Light Pollution - Peter Parker

Spider-Man is always saving people, making sure people feel safe. But who makes sure Spider-Man feels safe?

Peter Parker was as stiff as a board.

His every muscle was tensed, flexed into stillness. Not even the rumble of the bus wheels against the road could shake him from his solid stance. Though, in his head, he cursed every pothole that threatened to jostle the peace he held still. In short, Peter was, to a silly degree, dedicated to not disturbing you or your slumber against his shoulder.

Your cheek was pressed to his arm, spreading a warmth that dulled the ache of a late-night ride home. If he let himself, Peter would lean in too, rest his head on top of yours and sleep away the end of the field trip. It would be so easy. It would be so warm and soft, and yet Peter was immovable. While his reluctance to shift in his spot was rooted in a fear of waking you, it was also rooted in the fear of and nervousness of a teenage boy in love.

“Hey P-wow, Y/N is zonked, huh?” Said nervous teenage boy flicked his eyes from you to Ned. His friend’s head popped up from behind the back of the seat situated in front of Peter.

“Y-Yeah,” Peter replied, “I don’t…I can’t move.”

“I’m sure Y/N wouldn’t mind if you scoot over.”

“No, it’s not that I-” as Peter began to explain, you shifted against him. Your face then sat closer into the crook of his neck. The new proximity immediately brought Peter’s focus to you. His breathing faltered and face pinked.

Ned let out a hushed, breathy chuckle and said, with far too much, sudden knowing, “good luck, man.”

Peter bit back a groan of alarm as his friend turned around, leaving the two of you terribly, wonderfully alone in your row of seating. As if, even sleeping, you could sense his distress, you pressed yourself closer to his side. Peter blamed the movement on whatever dream danced behind the dark of your eyelids. Blamed wasn’t entirely the right word for it though, Peter thankedthe dream that danced behind the dark of your eyelids as whatever it was lulled you to him. He could be grateful despite the nerves.

It was easy to be grateful, especially when it came to you. With you so close, Peter could readily admire the curves of your cheeks, the gentle fanning-out of your lashes, and the creaseless rest of your brow, relaxed in sleep. How rare it was to see you so at peace, with the stresses of the day invisible in your features. How rare it was to see you so close up!

At the thought, Peter was reminded of how your body fit against his and his nerves. He swallowed hard and averted his gaze, throwing his attention out the window. Peter tried to drown himself in the scattered lights that speckled the dark like large fireflies. Desperate to ignore the warmth of you, he even craned his neck up towards the sky. He saw the faintest of stars shining in the navy night. More stars than he would see in the city, anyway.

Light pollution stole the sight of constellations in Queens and while the class was by no means driving through the country, Peter found himself romanticizing the more open stretches of land. It was easy to do with the stars in the sky and you on his shoulder. And just like that, you consumed his thoughts again. Not even the window, the world outside, could grant him an escape from you. Escape was too cruel of a word.

Peter never wanted to escape you. You were the first person he ran to when things became too much. When he was beaten down, physically or emotionally, you somehow always managed to lift his spirits. Your smile eased any ache and did so faster than even his advanced healing.

But you also made things difficult. Like when you fell asleep on the way back home from a field trip, your head on Peter’s shoulder, looking as soft as ever. Or like when everything around him, from the stars shining through the window to the idle brushings of knees, reminded him of you. Peter saw you in everything, felt you too, partly due to his heightened senses. To him, you burned as brightly as any star, unhindered by any pollution, any darkness that swallowed everything, everyone, else up.

You burned even as you slept, shimmering under the streetlights as the bus passed and warming Peter through the chill of the AC.

So, when the bus drove over a large pothole and your eyes fluttered open, your closeness was overwhelming. Sleepily, your shifted, barely lifting your head from Peter’s shoulder to glance around. Peter’s eyes widened at the sight and he flicked his gaze quickly away from your face.

“Are we back?” Your voice was low, heavy with disuse.

“Uh, uh no. Not yet. Bumpy road, though,” Peter mumbled, tripping over his words. He looked at you with quick, panicked glances and saw you frown.

“Yeah,” you grumbled as you met his eyes. “Sorry for falling asleep on you.”

“Oh, no,” Peter shook his head, “it’s fine. It’s cool.” He swallowed hard before adding, nervously, “You can…you can go back to sleep, if you want.”

“I’m not hurting your shoulder?” Peter smiled at your concern, at how you were worried about him despite your half-open eyes and sleepy swaying.

“No, you’re not,” you could never hurt me.

“Okay,” you murmured, leaning your head back on Peter’s shoulder. “Wake me when we get back?”

“Of course, yeah,” Peter replied, his body untensing the second you rested back against him. While he kept his body taught, to ensure he wouldn’t wake you like the petulant pothole had, he let himself relax. He felt that he could, knowing that you wanted to be there, so close to him. Knowing that you knew he wanted you there, so close to him.

Peter even let himself fall back too, let his head rest on top of yours. Your warmth kissed his cheek and numbed any lingering nervousness. The thought of whatever worries waited for him in the city and the star-drowning skyscrapers were pushed away by your shine. In your light, Peter Parker felt safe enough to close his eyes.

Things have been different since you returned from Europe; since Peter told you his super-powered secret. The two of you had been distant. School and Peter’s ‘extracirruclar’ activities had taken over your lives. Luckily, you and Peter have a group project that brings you closer than ever before.

“How long have we been working on this?” Peter asked through a yawn.

“Stop it,” you said, waving at hand at him. Though, it was too late. A yawn forced its way to your face and you groaned through it. 

Peter, under the heat of your mildly amused glare,  let out a small laugh. “Sorry.”

“Sure you are,” you teased, reaching for your phone. Your eyes widened when you saw the time. “No, no that can’t be right.”

“I think it might be,” Peter said, his voice sounding far away. When you looked over to where he was sat, you saw only empty space. Quickly glancing around the room, you found him by his bedroom window. He pulled the curtains to the side and revealed the darkness of night that had settled over Queens. 

“We’re not even close to finished with this,” you said, running a hand through your hair. “Did we spend hours just talking?”

“Guess we lost track of time,” Peter agreed, moving to sit across from you once more.

On the floor before you were scattered papers; some riddled with nasty equations and others were scholarly articles lifted from the school’s database. You and Peter had barely begun to scratch the surface of the project assignment. Your eyes flicked over the rubric and your hands lifted to hold your head up as all your energy suddenly morphed into worry.

“Hey,” you felt Peter’s warm hand on your upper arm, anchoring you to reality. “It’s not due ‘til next week. We have time.”

You met Peter’s brown eyes and your hands fell from your face. Nerves that claimed you melted into the floor of Peter’s new bedroom, leaving only the two of you, staring at each other. The corner of his mouth was quirked up in that infuriatingly charming half-smile he favored around you. How you had missed that smile. How you had missed him.

At the thought, your worry resurfaced. “Will we though?”

Peter cocked his head to the side. “Will we…what?”

“Have time?”

“What do you mean?” Peter’s hand fell from your arm, leaving you to face the chill your questioning created. With a small sigh, you summoned the courage to reply.

“This is the longest we’ve hung out in….in a while. I know you’re busy with Spiderman things, I get it, I do, but since Europe it’s like become ghosts to each other. Does…does that make any sense? I mean, I,” you swallowed hard and you met Peter’s eyes, “I miss you.”

Peter’s furrowed brows relaxed at those last three words. His hand reached out again, gently taking your hand. You glanced down at his fingers as his rubbed his thumb along your knuckles. The relationship you had with Peter had always been friendly and full of friendly touches. Though something about the tenderness of his hand on yours made your stomach twist. Not with nerves but a tickling sort of excitement.  

“I-I’ve miss you too, Y/N. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” you said softly. Peter gave your hand a squeeze and gave you another one of his lopsided smiles. 

“We’ll make time for each other. And the uh, the project.”

“Okay,” you tried to match his smile. 

“Cool.”

A sweet silence filled the air. The ticklish twisting in your gut subsided, melted into the steady beating of your heart as you found yourself wholly entranced by the shine in Peter’s eyes. You had noticed it in Europe: the newness that surrounded Peter. He was braver than the boy you had grown up with before the Blip, but still himself. The time you had spent apart had made that all the more clear. That, and knowing his Spider-Man-sized secret.

“Y/N, there’s something that I’ve wanted to tel-”

Just as Peter was about to continue, his phone hummed with a loud alarm. The sound made you both jump, though Peter recovered quickly. He got to his feet and picked up the device from his bedside table.

“Oh crap,” he murmured. When he turned to face you, you were greeted with a frown and sorry eyes. Your heart sank at the sight.

“What is it?”

“I gotta patrol.”

“Oh,” you nodded sadly, looking around the room for your things; looking anywhere but at Peter. “Then I guess I better go.” 

A low, thoughtful hum filled your ears and coaxed you to peer back up at Peter. One of his hands scratched at the back of his neck, almost nervously. Despite his lips being pressed into a thin line, the glinting in his eyes told you there was something he wanted to say. 

“What?”

“I could…uh, give you a ride, kinda, sorta?” 

You raised your brows and widened your eyes. “You got a car?”

“What?! Oh! No, I mean,” Peter rushed over to his closet door and, with a quickness that was beyond human, pushed it open to reach inside. He pulled his arm back and revealed the device in his hands. “I got this. I could swing you home.”

“You…you mean…”

“Only if you want,” Peter raised his hands, “I know heights aren’t everyone’s favorite thing so-“

He was beginning to backpedal, to rescind his frightening yet exciting offer. Before he could, you swallowed the clot of fear that had caught in your throat and nodded. 

“Yes,” you gave him a smile, “yeah, a ride would be nice.”

“O-Okay! Great! Um, let me get ready.” 

Peter crouched suddenly and, in a flash, a white web shot out from the gadget in his hand. It reached under his bed and, when Peter pulled back on the sticky webbing, a suit of red and black landed in his grip. You blinked, your eyes flickering between the suit and Peter’s proud smile. His brown eyes seemed to shine under the light of your impressed expression.

“Wow. Now, you’re just showing off.”

 Peter let out a soft laugh and, with rosy cheeks, duck his head to hide his face. He nodded towards the floor and lifted his gaze to meet yours once more. Pink still dusted the peaks of his face. His fingers tightened around the material of his suit, a nervous squeeze that stole your attention away for a moment. When you looked back up at Peter, you saw that the shade of his blush had only deepened. 

“I need to…” he raised his suit in his hands and refused to hold your gaze. You had never seen Peter so bashful and– your mouth fell open with realization.

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ll just grab my stuff and wait outside,” you said, bending down to pick up your things. Folders and papers slid from your fingers and into your bag in a rushed mess. Heat gathered in your cheeks, the burning of an embarrassed blush; similar, you imagined, to Peter’s. You didn’t want to give him the chance to see.

“Alright,” Peter coughed roughly to clear his throat, ideally the room, of the new, heavy tension within. “It’ll only be a second.”

“Cool, good,” you straightened your posture and threw you bag over your shoulder. In two paces, your hand was within reach of the door. Rustling of fabric reached your ears; Peter must have already started to change. Your heart pounded at the thought and you quickly closed your fingers around the bronze door handle. Without thinking, you stepped to the side to open it.

With the shift, you caught a glimpse of Peter’s bare back. Shaded and sloping valleys of flesh and muscle flashed before you vision. Scattered freckles dotted the skin of his shoulders, something you had never noticed before. It was something you wished you hadn’t noticed because it froze you in place. Eventually, you were overwhelmed by a new wave of heat that thawed you out. You tore your eyes away and pushed yourself through the door, slamming it when you had meant to shut it softly. 

Shit! Your head fell back and knocked against the wood of the door with a dull thud. Trembling, a small breath passed over your lips. Like your every nerve ending, it hummed around you, filled the air until all you felt was the wild thunderstorm of your heartbeat. 

“Y/N?”

Wide-eyed, you tilted your head back upright and locked eyes with Peter’s Aunt May. Her surprise melted into a wide grin and she stepped towards you, arms open. 

“It’s been so long!”

“Y-Yeah,” you stammered out. You leaned into her embrace, taking long, slow breaths as you did. Silently, you hoped May couldn’t feel the jack-hammer that had started to work in your chest. Also silently, you forced the image of a half-naked Peter, dressing paces behind you, from your mind. Breathing steadily became an easy feat by comparison.

“Peter mentioned you were his project partner,” May said, pulling away to look into your face. “I haven’t seen him so happy! And I haven’t seen you since you went to Europe!”

A blush spread along your cheeks at the mention of Peter happy to be working with you. It eased the lingering worry that worked i your gut. He had missed you too, he had said as much, but it was another thing to hear it from May. She beamed at you, undoubtedly noting the rush of blood that stained your cheeks in a flush. 

“Yeah, like you said, it’s been too long.” 

May squeezed your shoulder. “You should come over for dinner, like you used to! We still have pizza on Friday nights!”

“I would love that.” An instinctual smile spread along your lips. Parker Pizza Nights was a custom that you had helped shape when you and Peter were just kids. Now, nearly graduated, and one of you a superhero, it persisted. “I would really love that.”

“Great! And I have a feeling that-” May phone chirped loudly, pulling her attention towards the glowing screen that shone through the denim of her jeans. “Oh, jeez, that’s…wow it’s late! You kids were working hard, huh?”

You nodded as May slipped her phone back into her pocket. She glanced over your shoulder at Peter’s closed, bedroom door. One of her dark brows quirked up in question and you felt your chest tighten at the sight.

“Uh, Peter’s gonna walk me home. He’s-”

“Walk?”

You couldn’t meet May’s dark eyes. Lying to her was impossible. How had Peter managed to do it: hide Spider-Man from her? The eggshells he must walk on, or swing over.

“Y-Yeah. Just to the bus stop. It’s so dark.” May’s eyebrow lifted impossibly higher. You curled your fingers into a fist, letting the tips of your nails dig into the flesh of your palm. “So, how have you been, May? Pete said something about a boyfriend?”

May laughed and started to reply in the same instant you felt a sudden draft. You spun on your heels and found that Peter’s door was open. Stood in the entrance to his room was Spider-Man, Peter, masked up and ready to give you a lift home. His window was open, curtains billowing ever-so slightly in the night’s breeze. 

Your mouth fell open and you turned your head grew heavy with all the possible excuses you could make to May to cover for Peter’s little show. Though, when you turned around, May was smiling. Her brows were relaxed and she looked…clearheaded.

“Oh, he’s giving you a lift. That makes sense. Walking, ha,” she shook her head. “Be safe, kiddos. Alright? Good to see you, Y/N.”

May gave your shoulder another squeeze before making her way to her own room. You watched her disappear down the hall before you turned back to Peter.

“She knows?!”

“Y-Yeah! I didn’t…I didn’t tell you, did I?” You groaned and stepped back into his bedroom. In relief, you reached a hand out and pushed Peter’s shoulder. He didn’t budge.

“No, you didn’t! I thought I was going to have to explain your,” you let your eyes trail over Peter’s form. The red and dark fabric was so form-fitted. You could see every muscle in his slim frame. The very same muscles you had caught only a tempting glimpse of minutes before. His shoulders appeared broader, stronger than you remembered. Or maybe this was just your first time seeing this side of Peter fully fleshed out.

“Y/N?” He waved a gloved hand in front of your face. You shook your head and felt a rush of heat towards your cheeks. How long had you been staring?

“Sorry, I was, I was worried I was going to have to explain your costume.”

“Oh,” the white eyes of Peter’s suit seemed to shrink, focus in on you. “Yeah, well, she’s known for a while. Sorry about that.”

“It’s alright,” you said, waving a hand at him. Warily, you stepped towards the open window and peered out into the dark that had fallen over Queens. “So, through the window?”

“Yup!”

“Won’t people see you come out of here and blow your cover?” Peter was silent and, for a moment, you thought he didn’t hear you. “Won’t it-”

“There’s no one around,” Peter clarified. He pointed a finger towards where his ears were tucked in his suit. “Spidey senses means spidey hearing.”

You raised a brow at him. “Spiders have good hearing?”

“I…actually, I don’t know,” he stepped past you and jumped to crouch on the window sill. He pushed the glass the rest of the way up and, in that moment, you saw that he had modified the window to be the perfect, and secret, gate-away spot. “You ready?”

A red hand reached out to you at Peter’s question. All at once, the disappointment of hearing Peter’s failure to mention you disappeared. Your heart lifted, swelled in your chest and, in a strange flood of bravery, you took his hand. With ease, he pulled you up on the window sill and to his chest. The close proximity knocked the air from your lungs.

“Alright so, uh, don’t let go.”

A breathy, near-silent laugh rumbled out of your throat. “Really? What do you take for, Parker? An idio-”

Gravity suddenly fell away and your stomach dropped out from under you like your window sill perch. The word died on your lips and morphed into a hit-pitched shriek as the sound of rushing wind filled your ears. Your hands curled into the fabric of Peter’s suit as you clung to him for dear life. To distract yourself from the coldness of air he was swinging you through, you focused on the warmth of Peter’s body.

“Just hold onto me!”

Every biting, mocking retort you had saved in your social memory bank lacked the nerve to be said. Vertigo and the awful thought of falling consumed you. Only Peter, despite being far from it spatially, was able to ground you. His right arm was wrapped around your waist like a flesh safety belt, anchoring you to him in such a way that, if you weren’t a few hundred feet above a busy street, would have made your stomach twist with excitement. 

“Scream louder if you want to land,” Peter shouted. 

Only his voice seemed to cut through the hollering air that whooshed by you. Air. You were basically flying. You screamed louder than when Peter first lept with you in his arms.

“Alright! Hold on! Hold on!”

Your scream shrank with the sound of the wind that roared in your ears. Aside from the warmth of Peter’s body pressed against yours, all you could feel was the rapid pace of your heart and, eventually, your toes hitting something solid. Even when the entire length and width of your sneaker rested against what you imagined was the ground, you kept yourself pressed into Peter. His arm remained around your waist, holding you close.

“You’re alright, I got you,” Peter murmured, his voice loud but soft in your ear. “I got you, I promise.”

Slowly, you lifted your head from Peter’s shoulder and peeled open your eyes. Tops of buildings were visible to you. Black in the darkness, the roofs of apartment glinted only in the changing colors of traffic signals. Red then green then yellow; multi-colored, urban fireflies.

Convenience store signs glowed bright, illuminating the streets that rested far below from where you stood. Neon signs flickered in the windows of a tattoo shop, nearly in-time with the drunken laughter that spilled out of the mouths of passersby on the sidewalk. From this high, the strangers looked small, like children. You glanced around and saw grey heating units, metal boxes fixed on cement around you. 

“Where are we?” Your voice felt small as you looked up at Peter. The white eyes of his mask were already focused on you. 

“Only a few blocks from your place,” the hand he had resting on your waist shifted, rubbing soothing circles into your side. “We can walk the rest of the way, if you want?”

“No,” you replied too quickly. You squeezed the material of Peter’s suit that your fingers still curled around. “I like this.”

“Yeah? It’s hard to tell with all the screaming,” Peter quipped. You shot him an unamused grimace and he laughed; the sound rumbled in his chest, vibrated against your own. “I like thistoo.”

Despite looking into the unreadable blankness of Peter’s mask, you felt a softness. When he didn’t move to continue swinging you home, you felt your chest tighten. The white material that covered his eyes grew larger then smaller, still trained on you. His hand stopped it’s comfort campaign against your back and instead opted to fall still.

“Are…are we talking about liking the same thing?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted and swallowed hard on the fear that was climbing up your throat. “I just know I’m happy that I don’t have to miss you anymore. That I know more about this guy,” you pinched the fabric of his suit. “Spider-Man.”

“Me too.” Peter’s voice was quiet as he replied. “I like being your partner.”

A small smile slipped onto your lips as you recalled what May had said. “Your project partner?”

“Yeah, your project partner, and well, I…” Peter trailed off, a few sounds of thoughtful filler floated around you as he struggled to find the words. His arms slipped from your waist as he gestured with his hands, explained to you that, after Europe, he was scared to put in harms way again. “I mean, it found me on vacation!”

“It?”

“Danger,” he sighed. “I don’t want to put my partner in danger like that again. I don’t want to put you at risk.”

“Partner?” You cocked your head slightly to the side. “You mean friend?” Peter stopped his pacing along the roof and lifted his still-masked face to your eyes. You didn’t have to ask him to lift his mask to know he was staring at you. His arms fell to his sides and the quiet balanced around you both was enough; though it confused you. “Peter?”

“My friend, yeah,” he started to close the gap that he had made between you, “but also, like…partner partner, if you’d want that? This, this isn’t how I imagined this going in my head.” Peter raised his hands and sandwiched his face between his palms. You couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of Spider-Man, the hero of Queens, embarrassed. “Great, you’re laughing.”

“Not at you,” you said quickly, reaching your hands out to him. They shook slightly as you held Peter’s shoulders. So did your voice as you asked, “how did you imagine this going?”

“Well, I wanted to tell you in Europe. Paris maybe or in Big Ben, somewhere tall and romantic. But then…I didn’t tell you that and I told you about this.” He poked the spider emblem inlaid in the fabric on his chest. “And then we got back and I…now we’re here and-”

“Peter,” you whispered, a smile spreading along your face. He stopped rambling and the white eyes focused in on you. Wordlessly, you stepped closer to him and reached a hand up towards his face. With a new bravery guiding you, your finger tips found the end of his mask and began to lift. Peter didn’t stop you as you exposed his neck, his chin, and then his lips.

A shuddering breath passed through parted lips and, suddenly, he was just Peter again; your Peter, again. He was the boy you missed, the hero you had known him to be a kid playing with chalk on the sidewalk. Peter was the boy you loved trying to tell you that he loved you too in the most Peter-way how: on some roof in Queen, highlighted by the romantic glow of the streets below. Not quite how he imagined it but it was perfect for you.

So perfect that you weren’t scared when you leaned up towards him. You didn’t tremble as you placed your lips to his or when his hands gripped your waist. He pulled you to him, anchored you, once more, to his body. It was as if he were trying to keep you from floating away. As if he thought the kiss was not enough to keep you in place.

The kiss was certainly enough to convince you to keep sharing your space with him. Even when you pulled away, you did not go far. Only far enough to see the lazy smile on his lips as he said, “wow. That’s…just how I imagined it.”

chaneajoyyy:

Hey y’all I wanted to make it easier for you to read fics/find some dope writers to follow.  This will be updated over time. 

Banner by the lovely @just-peachee​

***= TBD

Keep reading

pairing/AU: university AU – student!tom holland x female student!reader

summary: there’s this girl in tom’s class that he can’t seem to get out of his head. she’s pretty, funny and kind, and every time she looks at him, he gets weak in his knees. but he can’t seem to find the courage to ask her out. not until a friday night uni party turns into the best night of his life

warnings:lovesick tom (like super lovesick), fluff, mentions and drinking ofalcohol, swearing

word count:6.1k

a/n: this story is heavily inspired by the two songs powders by alt-j and don’t delete the kisses by wolf alice so i’d recommend giving them a listen if you haven’t heard them before. both songs are super soft and i wanted to capture that in my fic. this is also my first attempt at writing from tom’s perspective, so we’ll see how that’s gonna go. english is not my first language so if you see any spelling/grammar mistakes, no you didn’t (also i’m not a writer)

Tom’s backpack felt heavy on his back as he stepped inside Professor Larsen’s auditorium. He really didn’t want to be here at 8am on a Monday morning for a three-hour lecture, and he especially didn’t want to be here this Monday morning. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong today, and it was only 8am. He’d snoozed his alarm a few times too many this morning – leaving him short on time to get ready. He hadn’t had the chance to eat any breakfast either, since his roommate and best friend Harrison hadn’t done the food shop he’d promised to do during the weekend, leaving their shared kitchen snubbed of anything resembling breakfast food. They didn’t even have bread! To make matters worse, when Tom stepped foot outside his flat and into the rainy London air, his bus had driven passed, splashing and soaking him in puddle water, and making him late for class.

So here he was in Professor Larsen’s auditorium. Fifteen minutes late, stomach screaming out for food, and his clothes soaked through to the bone. He quietly made his way down the stairs, careful not to draw any attention to himself and interrupting the class. Half-way down the stairs he found the blond head of hair belonging to his best friend. He sat down with a huff at the end seat, giving Harrison an annoyed look.

“Whydid you leave without me? And why didn’t you do the food shop this weekend? It’s yourturn!”, Tom harshly whispered to his friend.

“Wow, someone clearly woke up on the wrong side of the bed today…”, Harrison’s whisper trailed off when he saw Tom’s soaked clothes. “Wait, what happened to you?”

“Whathappened to me!? A bus splashed puddle water all over me is what happened to me!”, Tom scream whispered back. Just as Harrison was about to answer Tom, a hush and a “Can you guys be quiet?” came from the row behind them.

Tom felt anger bubbling inside of him. It really wasn’t like him, what he was about to do, but this day was testing his patience. He quickly turned around, ready to curse this person out, but when he saw the girl sitting right behind him, all his anger simmered down.

He felt like he’d been punched in the gut. She was breathtakingly beautiful. Looking at this girl he felt like all air had left his lungs, like he’d run a marathon and now needed to catch his breath. When she locked eyes with him, one eyebrow raised waiting for an answer, Tom felt his cheeks warm up. “Yeah… ehm…sorry”, he softly whispered before he slowly turned around in his seat, ears burning. When did he get this shy?

The first hour of the lecture Tom had a hard time focusing on anything Professor Larsen said. His thoughts wandering to the girl behind him. Who was this girl? And why hadn’t he seen her before? He pondered.He was well over a month into the fall semester already, and he’d been an uncharacteristically good student these first four weeks, showing up for all his classes. He should have seen her in this class!

“Okay you guys! It’s 09.15 so I think it’s time to take a break. Be back here in 15 minutes!”, Professor Larsen’s voice brought Tom back to reality. He had been lost in his thoughts. Beside him Harrison stood to his feet. “I’m gonna go get a coffee in the canteen”, he said. “I’ll come with”, Tom mumbled as he quickly shut his laptop, where his blank word document had stared back at him for the past hour.

When Tom got up from his seat, he saw that you’d done the same. You had your back turned, chatting with another girl on the row behind you while you waited for your friend beside you to gather her things. When he passed you, while climbing the auditorium stairs, he quickly nodded his head in your direction asking Harrison: “Do you know who that girl is?”

Harrison turned his head following Tom’s eyes, “Who? Y/n?”

“Y/n?”, Tom questioned.

“Yeah, y/n! She was in Professor Stanley’s class last semester, and in Professor Nguyen’s class our first semester. She’s always hanging out with Amira and Sophie”

“Sophie? As in…”,

“Max’s girlfriend”, Harrison finished Tom’s sentence.

This new information puzzled Tom. How has he never seen this girl before? You had a lot of mutual friends. He’d done a group project with Amira in Professor Nguyen’s class, and he hangs out with Max all the time.

15 minutes later, back in the auditorium, Tom quickly gave up on listening to Professor Larsen. He couldn’t get you out of his head, constantly fighting the urge to turn around in his seat to steal a glance at you. When the class was over, he’d decided that he’s was going to talk to you. But when he turned around after gathering his things, you had looked at him while giving him a warm smile making his mind go blank. He stood paralyzed watching you quickly put your stuff away in your tote bag as he searched the depth of his mind for something to say to you. But before he could find something to say, Harrison nudged his arm, urging Tom get a move on.

The rest of the week you plagued Tom’s mind. He’d memorized how you’d looked that day, and the smile you’d sent him had replayed in his mind a million times. How awkwardly he had stood watching you, struggling to find something to say, had also replayed in his mind a million times, making him cringe at himself wishing the ground could have swallowed him up where he stood. He really wanted to get to know you. He really wanted to ask you out. There was just something about you that drew him in. Something he’s never felt before. You made him nervous – something he never got around girls. Tom had always been well aware of how a lot of girls wanted him. And ever since he started university two years ago, he’d had no problem finding a girl for a one-night stand after a drunken night. But this, you. The thought of talking to you, made him feel like an insecure twelve-year-old boy again.

When Monday rolled around again Tom strutted confidently into the auditorium for Professor Larsen’s 8am class. He had a plan. He was going to talk to you today. When he saw you seated in the same spot where you’d sat last Monday, next to Sophie, he quickly snagged the seat behind you. When the first break rolled around it was go time! The plan was to be set in motion. He was going to say hi to Sophie, hoping she would introduce him to you, and then ask if they wanted to join him in buying a cup of coffee in the canteen. Sophie was his way in. It was a solid plan! What could go wrong?

He spoke too soon… he chickened out is what could go wrong! The kind smile you sent him as you stood from your seat turned his brain to mush and he couldn’t do anything other than send you a lovestruck smile back. He was sure that if someone asked him what his name was in that moment, he wouldn’t be able to tell them. So… his plan had failed – but next Monday, that’s when he’ll talk to you!

But…

Hedidn’t. He chickened out, again! After chickening out the fifth week in a row – Tom thought to himself that this was getting ridiculous. What was going on with him? He had never been this shy when it came to a girl. Harrison had caught on three weeks in when Tom had asked a little too many of what Tom had thought was subtle questions about you.

“Why don’t you just get her number from the class group chat and send her a text if you’re such a coward?”, he’d teasingly posed. “Ask her if she wants to study together or something? God knows you need it if you’re gonna pass Professor Larsen’s class. You’re too busy staring at her like a creep to hear a single thing of what Larsen’s talking about”

“I don’t stare at her!”, Tom said defensibly, “…and I’m not a creep!”

“No, you’re right! You’re not a creep, you’re a weirdo”, a teasing smile danced over Harrison’s lips.

“Fuck you!”, Tom shoved Harrison’s shoulder as he mumbled “and stop quoting Radiohead you pretentious fuck”. But maybe Harrison had a point? He could just text you, right? But what would he say?

“hi, this is tom. i sit behind you in professor larsen’s class. i got your number from the class group chat and i was wondering if you wanted to hang out sometime? xxx”

He reread the message he’d typed out in the notes app. Did he come off to strong? Maybe it’s the kisses at the end? He deleted them. Then he typed and retyped the massage a hundred times, but he knew in the end, he would never send it. Instead, he continued showing up to Professor Larsen’s class to sit behind the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, hoping that this was the Monday he’d grow some balls and finally talk to you.

The strong scent of the perfumery hit him like a brick wall, making him feel a little light-headed as he stepped inside the store. It was late November, but the perfumery had already put up their Christmas decorations and signs advertising their holiday sales. Tom adjusted his beanie and unbuttoned his winter jacket before he fished out his phone from his pocket. He searched through his messages until he found the one from his mother telling him what to buy for his little brother Paddy’s birthday. He wanted a cologne apparently. Why his fourteen-year-old brother wished for cologne for his birthday he did not understand, but Tom trusted his mother’s intuition.

“Hi welcome, do you want some help?”, a sweet voice asked. He was about to tell the voice that he’d be fine without any help, but when he looked up from his phone, he was met with your kind eyes.

“Oh… ehm… yes! I’m looking for this co-co-cologne?”, he stuttered out as he held up his phone showing a picture his mother had sent him of the cologne his brother wanted. He could feel a flush of warmth travel to his cheeks as you leaned in a little to get a better look at his phone.

“Oh, yes of course! We have that cologne over here”, you took off – walking deeper into the store. Tom followed you, taking big steps to keep up with your fast pace.

“Here it is!”, you smiled as you gestured to the cologne on the shelf. “We have it in two sizes: one that’s 50ml and the other that’s 100ml”, you pointed to the different sizes as you talked.

“Oh… ehm… I think I’ll buy the 100ml one?”, Tom questioned. His mum hadn’t said anything about if he should buy the 50ml or the 100ml one. But… the bigger the better, right? Tom thought.

“Excellent choice– ”, you chirped as you took the cologne of the shelf, “this fragrance should elevate your handsomeness”, you looked up from the packaging giving Tom your signature kind smile. That smile Tom had come to love over these past weeks.

“Then I’ll take a pallet”, Tom joked earning him a giggle from you. He could feel his chest fill with warmth at the sound. He made you laugh like that!

“Anything else you were looking for?”, you asked while looking around the store.

“Ehm no, nothing else”, he shook his head.

“Okay, then”, you said as you guided him to the register.

While you signed into the register you asked, “Would you like this gift wrapped?”

Tom fished out his wallet from his jacket. “No, no thank you”. Why did he say that?It’s a gift!

Tom watched your hand as you worked the register. “Okay, that’ll be £49.95”

£49.95!! This gift was going to be a lot more expensive than he’d anticipated. Does his mother think he’s made of money? He’s a broke uni student – he can’t spend this much money on something like this. But he couldn’t back out now with you waiting for him. With your eyes on him, he hesitated a little before he reluctantly swiped his card.

“Can I ask you something?”, you said as you handed him his bag and receipt. He could feel a jolt of electricity travel through his body as you accidently bumped into his hand.

A little startled he cleared his throat before he answered, “Yeah, sure”

“You’re Tom, right? Harrison’s roommate? You sit behind me in Professor Larsen’s class?”, your finger unsurely pointing at him as you asked your question. Your nose scrunched up like you were afraid you were mistaking him for someone else.

“Yeah, that’s me”, he confirmed with a nod, “and you’re y/n right? You’re friends with Amira and Sophie?”.

“Yeah, that’s me”, you parroted with a nod. A smile spread across his lips. He was actually talking to you! And you knew his name!

“What do you think of Professor Larson? Have you noticed how he always takes those weird breaths at the end of his sentences? You know like…”, you tried to mimic Professor Larsen’s annoying breaths, making Tom chuckle.

“I have noticed that! I actually find it hard to pay attention in his class”, Tom chuckled. But not because of Professor Larson’s weird breaths, he thought. “Yeah, me too! I get so caught up in his weird breathing- I’m always thinking he’s choking or something”, you laughed. You both talked for a little bit about the class and the last lecture until you asked him if he was going to Max’s party this Friday.

“Yeah! I’m gonna be there”, he nodded his head while he swung the bag with the cologne back and forth. “Me too!”, his heart skipped a beat at the smile you sent him. Then the bell by the door rang, announcing the arrival of a new customer. Your eyes left his for a moment as you greeted the old women that had arrived.

When you looked back at him he asked, “I’ll see you there then?”.

“Yes!”, your smile widened.

Tom was two beers deep when he saw you walking into Max’s flat with Amira and Sophie in tow. Harrison’s voice vanished into the background as a big smile blossomed on Tom’s face. He watched you from across the room, as you greeted some of your classmates. He couldn’t take his eyes off you. He thought you looked so beautiful in your emerald dress. Then you turned your head, locking eyes with him in between the crowd of partygoers. It was like the entire world reduced to just the two of you. Just the two of you in this room, while the rest of the world faded away.

“Tom?”

The nudge he felt in his side, as Harrison called his name, brought him back to reality.

“Hm?”, he tore his eyes away from you, joining the conversation with his friends again.

“What do you think of that?”, Harrison asked, “Think of what?”, Tom questioned as his eyes trailed back to you, hoping to lock eyes with you again. He felt a wave of disappointment wash over him when he saw you’d turned your back, having a lively conversation with your friends.

Harrison followed Tom’s gaze and rolled his eyes, “Mate, are you seriously stillpining over y/n? It’s been like almost three months!”. Just as Tom was about to answer his best friend, he saw you excusing yourself from your friend group, making your way through the sweaty bodies, and into the kitchen.

“I’m gonna get another beer”, Tom didn’t answer his friend. “You still have half of your beer left?”, Harrison pointed out with a raised eyebrow. Giving Harrison a shrug, Tom chugged what was left of his beer, before shoving the empty bottle into the hands of a baffled Harrison, and slipping away towards the kitchen.

Your head cocked up from the concoction you were making, as you heard the creaking of the floorboard under Tom’s feet as he entered the kitchen.

“Fancy seeing you here”, Tom joked as he made his way over to where you stood by the kitchen island.

“Yeah, because I didn’t tell you I’d be here at all”, you quipped back flashing him a cheeky smile. His heart skip a beat again, like it always did when you smiled at him. It couldn’t be good for his health, but he’d take his chances at a heart attack any day over not seeing you smile again.

“Soo… whatcha making?”, he leaned in a little closer trying to get a better look at what you were pouring into your cup. You scrunched up your nose, oh my god Tom thought it was so cute, before you held up the bottle of tequila you had found in midst of the sea of bottles on the kitchen island.

“Tequila?”, you chuckled, “not sure what to mix it with though”, you said as you rummaged through the makeshift bar.

“Hmm…”, Tom hummed as he leaned over the island “what about… pineapple juice?”, he proposed picking up the carton of juice and presenting it like a waiter in a restaurant would present a fancy and expensive bottle of wine. The gesture earned him a small giggle – a giggle that made his already wide grin even wider.

“Pineapple juice? That’s what the chef’s recommending this evening?”, you asked as your fingers found your chin, stroking it like you were deep in thought, mulling this decision over in your head.

“Oh yes!”, he held the carton up to get a better look at the carton of juice. “This fine carton of Sainsbury’s 100% pure squeezed pineapple juice, not from concentrate, is the best of the best we have to offer this evening Miss y/n! You can’t make a better choice for your drink than this!”, he said confidently.

You nodded your head with a serious look on your face, fingers still stroking your chin. You were playing along to his silly bit. “Okay, you’ve sold me on the pineapple juice”, you decided, pushing your cup towards Tom.

“Excellent choice Miss! Say when”, he said as he started pouring your drink. “When”. You grabbed your cup, swirling the liquid around, before your brought it to your lips.

“So?”, he asked after you took your first sip.

“Honestly? Not bad at all”, you giggled.

“Oh thank god! Because suggesting pineapple juice was purely a shot in the dark”, Tom said as his right hand traveled to his forehead pretending to wipe the sweat of it, “no pun intended”. He earned himself another one of your cute giggles which prompted a proud feeling of accomplishment to settle in his stomach. He wanted to make you laugh like that for the rest of the night.

“What are you having then?”, you asked peeking over your cup at him.

“Would you find me boring if I told you I wanted to grab another beer?”, Tom asked.

“No, not at all!”, you answered back. “I just thought you weren’t like other girls”, you said with faked disappointment. “I thought maybe you were gonna make the weirdest drink I’d ever seen that would look super distrusting, but taste delicious or something”, you cheekily said.

“So sorry to disappoint”, Tom laughed as he grabbed a beer from the six pack on the kitchen counter. “I guess I’m just like other girls”, he shrugged as he took a sip of his beer. It was a little warm, but right now he couldn’t care less.

“Bummer…”, you sighed, “here I though you were more than just a pretty face”. Just as the words left your mouth you took a sip of your drink. As if the words you’d just uttered weren’t supposed to be said out loud and instead could be taken back and swallowed down, mixed with tequila and pineapple juice.

“A pretty face huh? Are you flirting with me y/n?”, Tom teasingly bumped his shoulder against yours.

“Oh, that’s classified information I’m afraid. So, I can neither confirm nor deny those claims”, you giggled.

“Ah man… classified information huh?”, Tom sighed, “that’s a bummer because if you were flirting with me y/n, then I would tell you how beautiful I think you look right now in your dress, and how I haven’t been able to take my eyes off you ever since you walked in here”. Your eyes widened at Tom’s words while a shy smile appeared on your face. “That is, if you were flirting with me of course”, Tom added. Your smile grew wider as you answered him back, “Of course”.

The rest of the party you two never left the kitchen – staying there talking the whole time. Tom didn’t see his friends for the rest of the night, and neither did you. You were so easy to talk to. You laughed at all his stupid jokes, and you played along to his silly bits. When he was talking to you it was like time stood still – it was just the two of you in this world. The two of you illuminated by the dim yellow kitchen light. A light that maybe would be harsh and unflattering under normal circumstances, but right now cast a soft glow over your face – making you look so pretty that Tom was thinking that his knees surely would buck under from his weight any minute now.

“Oh my god! Is that really the time?”, you suddenly said cutting yourself off mid-sentence. You were in the middle of telling him about the plot to your favourite film just as your eyes had flickered to the oven behind him showing the time. Your sudden new interest in the oven behind him made Tom turn his head too. How could it be past 2am already?It felt like you’ve only been talking for an hour at most!

“Maybe I should start to head home?”, you said. “I could walk you home if you want?”, Tom posed – not ready to say goodbye to you just yet.

You nodded your head as a shy smile ghosted over your lips, “I would really like that”.

With your hand in his you dragged Tom towards the hall and the door. Trainers, boots, and high heels haphazardly covered the floor of the hall – flooding it with shoes. You giggled as you carefully tried to step over the shoes, making your way towards the door while looking for your own shoes. Tom followed your steps, treading carefully in the gaps you’d made. Suddenly, you tripped over a pair of docs. Tom reacted quickly, clutching your hand tighter as he pulled you towards his body, catching your fall. Being so close to you, he caught a whiff of your perfume and floral notes filled the air with sweetness.

“Thanks”, you looked up at him as you let out a shy giggle. Your hand came to rest on his chest – steadying yourself. Inside Tom beamed at the touch, while he hoped you couldn’t feel how quick his heart was beating through his chest from being this close to you.

“No problem, darling”, his tongue grazed the front of his teeth as he teasingly added, “I just didn’t think you would fall for me this quickly”. You rolled your eyes at his words as you let out another one of your cute giggles.

“That’s a smooth one–“, you said with a hint of teasing sarcasm in your voice, “almost sounds like you rehearsed it”, you raised a questioning eyebrow as you patted his chest.

“Maybe I did?”, Tom nonchalantly shrugged, “Or maybe I’m serving you the best of the best pick-up lines this drunk nogging can produce at 2am?”, he pointed a finger at his head while a cheeky grin was spread on his face.

“The best of the best, huh?”, you played along. Tom nodded his head, the grin never leaving his face, “It doesn’t get any better than this, darling!”. You giggled again as you shook your head at his attempt at flirting with you. Then you stepped away from him, your eyes searching for your shoes. You both put your shoes and coats on in silence, only the voices from the other partygoers speaking over the music filled the space between you.

“Ready?”, Tom asked after he’d watched you twist your scarf twice around your head. You looked at him with soft eyes as you nodded your head, “Yes”. Then you two were swiftly out the door, walking together into the December night. A French exit. An Irish goodbye.

When Tom woke up the morning after a grin was permanently glued to his lips. Like a supercut, images of the night before, of you, flooded his mind. How his heart had skipped a beat the first time he laid his eyes on you. How pretty he thought you’d looked in your emerald dress. How your eyes would shine as you giggled at his stupid jokes. And how your eyes would glimmer when you talked about the things you loved. Oh, how he wanted to be something you loved.

When he walked home to his and Harrison’s flat, after walking you home, he’d felt like he was walking on pink clouds. You had been everything he wished you’d be and more. Was it too soon to think that he loved you? Of course it is! What’s going on with him? Who are you turning him into? He didn’t even know you – but he felt like he did. He felt like you’d known each other for years, you were so easy to talk to. Maybe he did love you. What he did know for sure though, was that he was falling for you fast. He was falling for you embarrassinglyfast!

“What happened to you yesterday man? I didn’t see you at all at the party”, Harrison’s voice brought Tom out of his daydream and back to reality. Standing from their sofa, where he’d spent the majority of his Saturday morning, he followed Harrison into their kitchen, pondering over what to tell his best friend.

Harrison was in the middle of making himself a cup of tea as Tom blurted out: “Ehm… I kind of ended up talking to y/n the whole night”, a hand came up to rub the back of his neck, “and then I walked her home”, Tom had a hard time fighting the smile tugging on his lips.

Stopping mid tea making, Harrison turned around with a cheeky grin on his face. “Walked her home you say? Spill!”, he said – one eyebrow raised.

“Mate, it wasn’t like that… I didn’t hook up with her. We talked, we flirted, and then I walked her home and came back here”

Harrison was confused now. His eyebrows were knotted together, and his thoughts spinning around in his head. “Wait? You didn’thook up with her? I though you liked her? You literally haven’t shut up about her for months!”

“Ido really like her! And that’s why I didn’t hook up with her– I didn’t want it to be just a one night stand… I want there to be more– and especially after talking to her last night”, and then Tom launched into one of his many speeches Harrison’s had already heard about you.

“Oh god… please make it stop!”, Harrison groaned. “You’re so whipped for this girl! You’re like a teenage girl, you know that mate? Do you write about how she rocks your world in your diary too now?”, he teases.

“Fuck off, you div!”, Tom flips him off, “I thought you’d be happy for me man!”

Tom’s reaction and grumpy face earned him a full belly laugh from Harrison. After calming down a little, Harrison says, “Of course I’m happy for you mate! But mostly I’m happy for myself, because I really can’t listen to any more of your speeches about how much you like her, or I’ll jump off the roof!”

He hated to admit that Harrison was right – he did sound like a teenage girl. You had taken over his mind, turned his life upside down, made him lose his self-control. He wanted to tell the world about you. He wanted to tell everyone that’ll listen how breathtakingly amazing you really are.

He couldn’t wait to see you again in class come Monday.

Tom felt light as a feather as he stepped inside Professor Larsen’s auditorium 15 minutes early. He’d woken up to a clear blue sky with the promise of a rare sunny day in December. His body was buzzing with energy – never having been this excited for Professor Larsen’s three-hour lecture. Slowly making his way down the auditorium stairs he was searching for only one head of hair – yours. But to his disappointment he couldn’t find you. As he sat down in his regular seat behind where you used to sit, he tried to tell himself that you would be here. He was just early. Fishing out his phone from his winter jacket he started mindlessly scrolling – trying to take his mind of his nerves and the butterflies fluttering in his tummy.

“This seat taken?”, a voice said pulling him from his phone. He knew it was you, even before he teared his eyes from his phone, and meeting your kind gaze.

“No, not at all!”, Tom beamed, removing his jacket from the seat beside him.

“Thanks”, you mumbled as you sat down. He watched you in silence as you took of your winter coat and fished your laptop out of your tote bag. When you were settled you turned towards him. God, you looked so pretty.

“Hi”, you smiled.

“Hi”, Tom parroted.

“How are you?”, you asked him as you leaned back in your seat.

“Great, now that you’re here”, Tom answered. Playfully you rolled your eyes at his response.

“What?”, he teased.

“You’re such a flirt– do you know that?”, you giggled.

“Only to pretty ladies who helps me buy cologne and sits beside me in class”, Tom said as he placed his hand on the back of your auditorium chair. You rolled your eyes again while Tom tried to keep his cool as he watched you shift a little closer to him in your chair.

“So… how was your weekend?”, you asked – a hint of a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Oh, you know… I went to this party on Friday where I met this beautiful girl. She was wearing this emerald coloured dress and I couldn’t take my eyes off her the entire night. What about you? How was your weekend?”, he winked. Just as you opened your mouth to give him an answer, Professor Larson’s voice boomed throughout the auditorium: “Good Monday morning– let’s get started on our second to last lecture”.

As usual Tom had a hard time paying attention during Professor Larson’s lecturers – and especially today with how close you were sitting to him. He did try to pay attention – he really did. But every time he tried; his eyes would have a mind of their own wandering to you. He studied you from his seat. How you’d scrunch up your nose as you tried to keep up with what Professor Larson’s was saying, while writing out your notes in your spiral notebook. How you’d nod along every now and then to something your he said. And how you would press the end of your pen to your lips as you were deep in thought. Oh, howhe wished he was that pen–… okay, maybe Harrison was right. He waswhipped.

“Okay, that’s it for today everyone! I’ll see you all back here next Monday for our last class before the exam”, Professor Larson’s voice brought Tom back to reality.

“Do you want to go get a coffee?”, your soft voice asked him as you both packed away your stuff.

“I would love to go get a coffee!”, Tom beamed, standing from his seat throwing his backpack over his shoulder.

It was crazy how time flew when Tom was together with you. You had both agreed that the coffee they served in your uni’s canteen was, although cheap, painfully bad. And instead opted for a cute café a few minutes walk from campus. Tom had never been there before, but you insisted on it having the best coffee you’ve ever had, and how you thought it was the best place to study because of how quiet it was. And he had to admit: it was the best coffee he’s ever had, and if he ever needed a quiet place to study – he would probably want to go here.

One coffee turned to two coffees, and then two coffees turned to cups of tea while the short and sunny December day turned to evening. Sitting at a table by the window your conversation had died down a little, and a comfortable silence had wrapped itself around you like a warm blanket, as you watched stressed Londoner’s hurrying past the café window, carrying bags of Christmas shopping.

“Want to go for a walk?”, you asked when you’d both finished your cups of tea. You’d occupied the same table by the window for hours now.

Out on the street, outside the café, you had a bounce in your step. Above both your heads the street was illuminated by Christmas lights. They glowed like stars on a clear night sky, and the warm and soft light transformed Tom’s world into a glowing vignette, with you in the centre. Reaching out your hand and intertwining them with Tom’s, you dragged him through the streets of London. Together you walked around aimlessly for hours hand in hand – talking and messing around. But eventually all good things must come to an end.

Standing outside the door to your flat Tom thinks back to the last time he had stood right where he was standing right now. Back to Friday night when he’d walked you home. You’d been leaning your side against the door just like you were doing now. And your hands had been interlocked just like they were now. And Tom, he really hadn’t wanted to leave you – just like he didn’t want to leave you now.

“I had a really good time with you today y/n!”, Tom said shyly – breaking the silence. Your eyes were following his thumb rubbing softly over the back of your hand, as a smile tugged at your lips at his words. You looked up at him under fluttering eyelashes.

“I had a really good time with you today too Tom!”, you voice barely a whisper as you moved a little closer. The closer you got the louder and faster Tom felt his heart beating.

“Maybe we could do this again then?”, Tom asked as his eyes fell to your lips. He wanted to kiss you so bad. To feel your soft lips against his. To make you his, and for you to make him yours. He wanted to be yourman.

“I would really like that!”, you breathed out – your eyes flicking from his eyes to his mouth. Tom leaned in a little closer to your face, his lips hovering over yours. When you made no sign of moving away, he looked into your kind eyes and boldly asked, “can I kiss you?”.

Your signature wide smile blossomed on your face at his words and when you nodded your head your nose, cold from the December air, softly bumped into his. With your consent, Tom closed the space between you, and his lips touched yours. You leaned into his kiss and kissed him back, making his stomach burst with fluttering butterflies. Your lips tasted like green tea and Tom found himself craving more of your touch. His hand travelled to your waist, while his other cupped your cheek bringing you even closer to his body.

Running out of air, you both reluctantly broke the kiss. Your hands had found their way to his face, cupping it, while your forehead rested against his. “That was– “, Tom started before you cut him off.

“Kiss me again”, you whispered as you leaned in closer. There was nothing in this world he wanted to do more than to kiss you again. So, he did. He closed the space between you and captured your soft lips in another breathtaking kiss.

tagging:@mayal0pez​,@userholland​,@kissholland,@justapurrcat​​ (tagging you guys since you interacted with my other post about this)

It was times like these when you blamed your dad for your high standard in boys. Being the daughter of Tony Stark came with some pretty high standards, and even higher ones for any boy you decided to bring home. So when the cute nerd in your chemistry class catches your eye, you’re determined to get him to like you back.

y/n (reader) x peter parker (love interest) x tony stark (dad) // fluff & angst

masterlist

study hall - part one

an apartment in queens - part two

the homecoming dance - part three

in his arms - part four

*not my gif*

word count: 872

TW: weight insecurity

MASTERLIST

-

“How can he look at me and tell me I’m beautiful?” you asked yourself in the mirror. Your fingers shakily lifted up to your face, trailing the tips of your fingers across your flawed skin. In your mind, you made a list of every single imperfection. Blemished skin. Your crooked discolored teeth. The bundle of skin underneath your chin that always makes you lift your phone slightly higher than usual in photographs. When he looked at you, it was almost as if he was staring at the most beautiful painting in a gallery. It made no sense to you because what was in the mirror was nothing short of disgusting.

“You’re doing it again, aren’t you?” Peter asked from the doorway of the bathroom. Your hands dropped from your face, ashamed that he caught you berating yourself once more.

“Sorry,” you whispered, looking away from the creature in the mirror.

He sighed, knowing that you couldn’t help it. He did it too. It was only natural.

“I thought you were still asleep,” you admitted, reaching for your makeup to attempt to hide your blemishes. Before you could reach them, his arms wrapped around your waist and tugged you backwards into him. He hated it when you did this to yourself.

“I was cold,” he mumbled into your shoulder, “Will you come back to bed with me?”

“I was going to-”

“I know. You can do it later.”

You didn’t have the strength to tell him no. So when he grabbed onto your hand and pulled you away from the mirror, you retreated with him. He took you to the bed, sitting down on the edge and placing you onto his lap. It always made you self-conscious to sit on his lap, no matter how many times he told you that you fit perfectly against his body.

“Hey,” he whispered to you, taking your attention away from your insecurities with just the sound of his gentle tone. You felt his soft hand reach up and caress your cheek, directing your eyes to look into his, “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” you smiled sadly, nuzzling your cheek into his warm palm, “I love you.”

“I love every last thing about you,” he said in a sterner tone, “I love the dimples in your thighs, the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile, the sound of your laugh… those cute little snores that leave your lips when you’re asleep.”

“I snore?” you asked in semi-horror.

Peter laughed, “Just when you’re sick.”

“So that’s how you can tell,” you noted with a tiny laugh. Whenever you got sick, you would keep it to yourself. You didn’t want to worry Peter, he had enough on his plate without having to worry about you. However, he always knew and you never knew how. You’d wake up to see little gift bags by the bed with all your favorite snacks and drinks. On particularly bad days he would surprise you with brand new stuffed animals, he knew they were your favorite.

“Now you know my secret,” he chuckled as he pressed a sweet kiss to your temple. Your eyes close softly as he stays with his lips against your skin for just a secondmore, bringing bright blue butterflies to life inside your stomach. As Peter pulled away, he guided your chin between his thumb and index finger to face him, “It breaks my heart that you forget how much I love you sometimes.”

His thumb gently brushed against your bottom lip, a soft smile gracing his lips. You were speechless under his gaze. You were sure that the midnight sky would cry at how much it dulled in comparison to the speckles of light in Peter’s eyes as he looked at you.

“I know you love me,” you whispered, tears beginning to glisten in your eyes, “I just don’t understand how or why you do.”

Peter let out a heartbroken sigh, his lip quivering slightly at your confession. It tears him apart to hear the way you talk about yourself. In his eyes, the two of you were made for each other. He knew from the moment that he met you. He knew that there was no one else that could fit so perfectly beside him. It was you. It was always going to be you. “Because you are everything I’ve ever wanted and more. You’re my person,” Peter said with so much passion in his voice that every ounce of doubt you had shattered in the air. The tears broke from their cages, racing down your flushed cheeks. Peter’s hands moved to cup your face, wiping the flowing tears with his thumbs.

“You’re so cheesy,” you said, crying to calm yourself from the tears. He chuckled, just nodded to show that he agreed. You begrudgingly removed yourself from his hands, wiping your face free of tears, “I’m sorry I act like this.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Peter said with a joking eye roll as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back into him, “Can we kiss now?”

You laughed at his childishness before pressing a kiss to his lips, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

-

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Warning: Peter does some bad things and creepy things. Depends on how you look at it. The title is self explanatory. 

-

It wasn’t like he was a stalker or anything.

That’s exactly what a stalker would say.

Shut up, Ned! Ahem. Anyway, he’s not a stalker.

Peter just liked you, a lot, and since he didn’t have the guts to ask you out, he turned to…other measures. Ones that would be less noticeable. Yes, he had the notifications on for all of your social media. Yes, he saved some of your pictures because he just wanted to look at it forever and ever. Yes, he had memorised your bio by heart. Yes, he took screenshots of the sort text messages that you shared which were mostly you asking about the Physics homework or the whereabouts of your teacher. Well, that didn’t change the fact the his heart skipped a beat whenever a ‘thanks Pete!’ popped up next to your profile picture.

So…you do know that they call those an online stalker.

Yes! Yes, I know, Ned! But these are different from a real stalker! Real stalkers are really bad. They’re threatening and those are the kind of people that Spider-man has to take care of to keep the city safe. I’m…not like that. Am I? I’m not. He’s not. He wasn’t like that at all.

Sure, Peter.

I’m not! Ok. Anyway. 

Stalker or not, he was going to keep it a secret to his grave. He could never risk you finding out. You would despise him until he graduated. You would never even want to talk to him again. That’s why he couldn’t tell anyone. Not even his best friend.

At least, that’s what you planned until…

Until today.

-

When Peter thought back to it, it was kind of Mr. Bail’s fault.

“Listen up, Class! Just to juggle things around a bit, we’re going to have new seating plans today! Everybody, pick up your bags, come to the front, pick a stick and go sit in your new groups!”

Peter slowly slid his laptop and notebook into his bag as everybody else groaned. He didn’t really get why teachers thought that “mixing up” the students would automatically end up in making more friends. He liked where he was sitting right now. It was at the corner, his group didn’t really care that much about him, he could secretly work on web fluids from time to time. Peter let out a short sigh before walking towards the front of the class to pick his new seat. It didn’t really matter anyway. It wasn’t as if he-

Peter looked at the piece of unfolded paper on his hand.

As if he-

He looked back at his seat. 

“What are you staring at, Dickhead!”

…As if he minded seating next to anybody.

Anybody except for one.

Peter regretfully slumped his backpack over his shoulder and walked towards the one person he wished to avoid. Flash returned the look with a frown when he realised the reason for the young boy’s stare.

“You? You’re sittinghere?”

Peter didn’t answer, but instead, just sat down next to Flash, turning his head the other way. This was going to be a hard month for him.

“Oh, no way. Your lameness is going to rub off me! I can already feel myself getting infected by dollar store germs!”

When Peter continued to ignore him, Flash soon got tired of mocking and turned his attention back to class. Hmm, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. This is just like Flash on normal days. I just have to wait until he forgets about me.

Or that’s what he thought.

“Ok, class. That will be it for today. Oh, and I hope you like your new partners because you will be working with them on the final project for this semester! Class dismissed!”

Peter turned to Flash with horrified eyes.

Without a word, Flash just scowled and stormed out of the room, leaving Peter behind. Alone.

-

“I don’t know, Ned. I don’t think I can ever work with him. Or, more importantly, I don’t think he will ever work with me.”

3 hours had past since the incident in Chemistry, and Peter had already filled his best friend, Ned, on the details. Now, they had PE together and Peter still couldn’t get over his thoughts about Flash. Ned however, was less concerned.

“It’s not really that big of a deal, Peter. You had plenty of partners who left you to do all the work. Flash is just going to be one of them.”

Peter wrinkled his eyebrows.

“Dude, that’s not a good thing.”

Ned just shrugged.

“Well, yeah, technically. But you shouldn’t be so worried about it.”

Peter was just about to reject him when a voice above them interrupted their conversation.

“Parker. Get up.”

Peter looked up to see none other than Flash standing next to his mat and scurried to his feet. What was he doing here? Did he hear what he had said?

“Yeah, w-what’s up?”

“Give me your phone.”

“My what now?”

Flash let out an exasperated sigh and looked at Peter as if he was a moron.

“I’m going to need your phone to put in my number so you can call me for the chem project. Remember?”

Of course he remembered.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Sure.”

Peter fumbled through his gym shorts pockets until he found his phone and handed it to Flash who stared at it with a disgusted look on his face.

“An iphone 4? Are you serious?”

Peter scowled and sat back down, facing Ned. Just when he had almost convinced himself that Flash may not be that bad. Of course he was that bad. Peter was thinking that maybe it would actually be better to do the project himself rather than have Flash help him when-

“WHAT THE FUCK do you have on your PHONE?!”

Peter snapped his head around, a sudden chill running down his spine, to see Flash holding up his phone with the photos app open.

“Why is your phone filled with pictures of y/n? God, Penis Parker, I knew there was something weird about you but not this weird! I’m going to have to call you Pervert Parker now!”

Peter stood up to stop flash from exposing his little secrets but it was too late. The whole gym had their heads turned towards them now. Including you.

“Where do you even get all of these? Isn’t this from a story? You took a screenshot? Parker, do you jerk off to these or something? Eww, gross!”

Flash ran over to you, handing you the phone. Peter’s mind went blank. Now he just wished this was all a dream. A really bad dream. It all seemed like slow motion. How you stared at Flash with a confused look on your face as he made his way towards you, how you took the phone and looked down at it, how your eyebrows morphed into a frown. And that’s when Peter ran.

He ran outside the gym, into the nearest bathroom, got into a stall, locked the door and slid down onto the seat.

He covered his face with his hands.

What was he going to do now.

-

And that was also when he realised that he had left you with his phone. With everything.

Everything.

-

AN: I’m sorry I didn’t post anything for a long time. I was just busy for a while and also my region is seriously effected by the coronavirus so things are kinda off balance for me. I really hope I can continue to post more things once it settles down. Also, I’m kind of trying out stuff for this one. Hope it was ok! 

Taglist: @thewayilookatbacon​ 

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Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

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It was a rough night for Peter. Honestly, every night was rough ever since he left his little spot on your bed but tonight was especially worse. He never remembered it being this bad. Because it never was. Yes, he didn’t really like lightening. Yes, they bothered him. But it was never this bad.

Turning his head from the window, Peter hid himself underneath the covers. Why was it so hard for him? Everybody went through it, right? Every gunshot, every explosion, every weird alien technology they faced, they all got over it and he should too. He was an avenger now. It was about time he person-up a little. ‘Come on, Peter.’ He thought to himself as he rolled over to the side. ‘It can’t be that bad. You’re imagining it. See? It’s not even that loud when you don’t think about it…’

Well, maybe one day Spider-man will become a mature, experienced hero inside and outside of he battlefield. One day. But today, Peter found himself standing in front of a door he was way too familiar with. He sighed as he brought his hand up to knock, instantly regretting it.

What was he even doing here? He should go back. This was a mistake in the first place. He’ll just give up sleeping. Yeah, that wasn’t so bad. Tony slept like, what? 40 minutes a day? He was fine. 

Peter weighed out his options. Confronting you vs. not getting any sleep tonight? He could take a restless night. But how about next time? And the time after? And the time after that? He couldn’t keep avoiding you like this. He had to tell you.

He took one last deep breath and knocked. 

Peter’s heart sank when the door opened and he was met with your tired eyes. 

“Oh, hey. It’s you.”

His mind suddenly went blank. What was he supposed to say? ‘Yeah, hey, it’s me. I don’t know if you remember but I have this thing with thunderstorms so I was wondering if you could hug me to sleep like when I was small and furry. Oh, yeah, and by the way, I’m in love with you.’? 

He just stood there, staring at you blankly through the door frame.

“So… Uh, anything you wanted to say?”

“I, I mean, there was a really, really…loud…thunder. And I- It was just-”

When he finally gathered the courage to open his mouth, words just tumbled out, tripping all over each other and Peter knew that this wasn’t going to work. He must sound stupid. And even if he didn’t, the contents of his words definitely did. This is never going to work. He would always just be this rambling idiot in front of you. Peter quietly murmured an ‘I’m sorry’ under his breath. He was about to turn around and go back to his room when you took his hand and gently tugged it towards you. When he looked up at you, he saw those soft, understanding eyes that he knew so well. A sudden rush of relief washed over him, standing in that dark hallway, the single stray of light coming out from your room.

“Honey, It’s ok.”

What Peter did next, well, he wasn’t very proud of it. If there was a line in this messed up relationship, he definitely crossed it. But in that moment, he needed you. Only you. His world was tumbling down on top of him and yet, he just needed you. 

When his lips interlocked with yours, it was like finally breathing for the first time in a very long time. He sucked you in, all of you, until every last inch of his body, the very last blood in his veins was filled with you. You, who he had so wished for. 

It wasn’t until he was sure that he had died and went to heaven that Peter finally let go.

“I-I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I know I shouldn’t-”

But you cut him off by reaching out and gently caressing his cheek.

“How about you sleep in my bed tonight, and we keep it a secret.”

“Does that mean-?”

“Yes.”

“Just to be clear, I didn’t mean-”

“Yes, Peter.”

“Ok.”

-

“I was cuter.”

“Yeah, but you’re not here anymore.”

Four months had flown by ever since Peter had showed up at your door and now, you two were looking inside a fence filled with a litter of six golden brown puppies.

Lots of changes had been made around the Avengers compound since then. The biggest one being that you had your own office now. Tony had emptied out a computer lab and redesigned it so that you could focus on your cases. Although you did miss being out on the field, you were happy that you could help in your own way. Especially when it involved Spider-man. 

Speaking of Spider-man, that was another big change for you. You hadn’t had a boyfriend ever since…ever because you joined the Avengers way too early to get a chance at any of that and it took some getting used to. 

Peter frowned. 

“I’m still here!”

“You know what I mean.”

You gave the pouty boy a little kiss before turning to the owner.

“We’ll take this one.”

But above all that, this was about to be the biggest change yet. Tony, after the sixth time, finally said yes to making the compound pet friendly. (He also tried argue that an alpaca would make such a better pet but got denied by everybody else.) So there you and Peter was, ready to take home the newest member of the family.

“What are you going to name him, by the way?”

Peter asked as he opened the door for you at the passengers side of the car.

You smiled and looked into the black, round eyes of the little animal in your arms.

“His name is Ohana.”

Peter let out a laugh.

“Ohana means family?”

You nodded.

“And family means nobody gets left behind.”

-

AN:Hey guys! Thanks for reading and I’m sorry for being so late. I had a terrible cold (it wasn’t the coronavirus it’s ok I’m fine) and I just had 0 energy for the past few days. But here it is! The end of our Puppy-sitting series! I know it’s a bit cheesy but I found the ending satisfying. I didn’t give that much backstory for the reader but the Avengers is like family for her and she was feeling uncertain because of all the changes that they were going through and she felt like she was losing her place in it but as she looked after Peter she kind of realised that the Avengers is not just about saving the world but a group of people making each other better people. And Peter didn’t feel like he belonged in the Avengers because to him, he is still the little kid who doesn’t know what he’s doing instead of this great almighty hero but he also realises that becoming a part of the Avengers is not just about having cool skills and kicking ass but also being a team and a family and he learns that through reader because through her, he found that love. Ok just wanted to say that in case I forgot bye and thanks again for reading!

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Tag list: @crumpets-are-better-with-jam@spideylovin@clara-licht @thewayilookatbacon@rogue-of-sound@deadlyaffairs@enjoymyloves @himarisolace

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mj’s baddassery with her words such as “therefore i have value?” inspires me daily and i think about it often

i just want the optimism that scott lang has