summary:When you come back to your small hometown in order to help your brother keeping your now dead parents diner alive, business degree in hand. Tensions rise between you and someone you’ve had a crush on all your life, who you didn’t think felt the same.
pairing: best friend’s brother!tom holland x fem!reader
There was never a time where you could remember not having a crush on him, on Tom. You’ve always been drawn to him. You’ve always had this schoolgirl crush for him. But it was always so difficult since you were one year younger than him, and he was your brother’s best friend.
You’d spend your days as a younger girl writing about him in your diary, wishing that he would kiss you like you had seen in the movies. It was your one true desire in life. To be with Tom. Your best friend Zendaya always made fun of you for liking an older boy even if it was only by a year.
You’d spend your days ogling over him across the school, the only time the two of you ever overlapped was when your brother, Ethan, had Tom over for sleepovers and study sessions, even just for fun. They were so close – tight as a knot.
But as you grew up, you found yourself doubting this. Doubting your silly crush. Doubting your feelings – they would never happen. You attempted to move on but for your whole life it became apparent that you were stuck on Tom. You were stuck in this lifetime where Tom was your only thought, was the reason you woke up every day, even though you never saw him and Zendaya called it an obsession… and it wasn’t. Because you wouldn’t constantly check his socials. You wouldn’t ask your brother about him. For a few years there you hadn’t even talked to him. You didn’t even know if Ethan and Tom were still close. It rattled you. What you would do without Tom in your life. Sure, there were a few moments that Tom had been there for you because Ethan couldn’t be – but it’s not like he saw you as anything other than his best friend’s little sister.
summary:you and tom both found yourself stealing stolen glances when the other wasn’t looking. his eyes would follow you as you left his class, and you couldn’t help but imagine all the things he could do to you as he teaches. one day, you decide to ask for help… which leads to a meal and something more.
pairing: professor! tom holland x fem!reader
warnings: SMUTTY SMUT SMUT (extended warnings under the cut!), fluff and angst(??), DIDN’T PROOFREAD LOL
word count: 11.3k (2.7k is smut <3)
authors note:lowkey inspired by a tiktok i saw where her boyfriend made her tell him she was beautiful or else he would stop
❧ synopsis: after the collapsing of an unhealthy relationship, each side begins to improve and thrive, one for the other, one for themselves. coincidentally, they meet at the same dreaded party that led to the breaking of their relationship. will this unfortunate series of events lead them to opportunity?
❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader
❧ genre: fluff
❧ warnings: mild angst, fluffy-ish ending, exes to friends to lovers, one or two curse words, lil bit of crying, mentions of alcohol
❧ a/n: it’s finally over. thank goodness. this also is so long it can be considered a second part fuck. i know i took a whole month to write this, but i barely have free time to write nowadays and the times i do, i don’t have much inspiration. anyways this came out better than i expected so hope you guys enjoy.
In the first month you spent broken up with Tom, you, for once, felt at peace, with no burden of hiding relationships and denying feelings. You had forgotten how free living singly was. Within that month, you were able to reshape your life. Your grades began to improve, and your mental health had phenomenally developed for he better. Your friends had even gone out of their ways to help you with a “glow up.”
Tom, on the other hand, had tried to shape him into a better person in hopes of salvaging your crumbling, if you could even call it that, relationship. He worked harder in class, and every time he saw you sitting in the lecture hall, you were surrounded by other classmates, giving him no place to fit in. He also started to distance himself from his old group of friends, looking for a better, influential group.
Tom couldn’t help but feel a tug at his heart when he saw you walking with one other friend to class, laughing at something they said. He saw how your under eye-bags turned bright and how you shoulders straightened up after the breakup. It broke his heart to know the negative impact he had on you, which you never complained or spoke out about.
The brunette wanted to improve for you andhimself.
How you ended up in a pair of high-waisted, black, denim shorts and a black bandeau with a sheer, cropped, long-sleeved shirt overtop you didn’t know. After much begging and bothering, your friend had convinced you to go to the afterparty of the football game. You tried your best to deny their attempts but failed when they baited you with money.
This would be your first time attending a party, for you were always driven home and away from them. You couldn’t deny, though, the chills that snaked down your spine at the mention of it.
Stepping into the house, you noticed how similar it looked to a fraternity. People were dancing, pushing their bodies against others and grinding their hips onto drunk partners. Other students were playing beer pong, stripping on tables, or resting on couches with a red, plastic cup in their hands. It smelled terribly of sweat and oversaturated body spray, making you gag on your breath.
“How do so many people like this?” You shouted over the pounding music and loud voices.
“How do you not?” You friend giggled, dragging you through the crowd.
Dodging and pushing people off of you, you gripped your friend’s hand tightly, afraid of losing them.
“Where are we going?” You asked, eyes darting all over the place in uncertainty.
“Before we party, we’ve got to get drinks,” they pushed the door of the kitchen open, revealing the alcohol infested space.
Scrambling over to the bulky cooler, they grabbed a can of beer, popping it open and downing it.
Flinching in disgust, you commented, “Don’t you want to wash that, first?”
“What d'you mean? It looks perfectly clean to me,” they shrugged, throwing you a can.
You clumsily captured the condensated drink, before putting it on the counter behind you, “I don’t drink.”
They groaned, “Why are you such a doormat? Come on,” they nudged your shoulder, “Live a little.”
You laughed, “I can "live a little” just fine with water.“
"Ugh, fine. I’m guessing you also want to sit in a corner and become a hermit,” they spoke, sarcastically.
“Actually,” your eyes lit up, “I do.”
“You,” they pointed at you unsteadily, “annoy me, but since I already brought you along,” their finger moved to point at an idle seat in the corner of a calmer room, “There.”
You nodded, eyeing the isolated spot with glee. However, before your friend could escape into the crowd, you told them to stay safe and slipped away to occupy said seat.
Although Tom no longer associated himself with his old group of friends, he couldn’t avoid them forever, as they were his teammates. Also, as the captain of the football team, it was practically an obligation for him to attend the after parties.
Honestly, ever since you had broken up with Tom, he had developed a small fear of being whisked away by his fangirls and teammates, constantly thinking you were waiting in his car for him. His guilt had piled on top of his conscious, leaving him an insecure wreck.
Nevertheless, he stepped into the filled building, nodding and waving at familiar faces. One face he wasn’t expecting to see sat in the corner of the room was yours.
He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, he murmured to himself, “She’s not there, you idiot.”
“Tom, buddy,” a familiar voice hollered.
Through your peripheral vision, you swore that you saw his chocolate curls, but when you looked up from your phone, he had disappeared. Your eyes began to dart through the crowd of people, looking for the man you supposedly had gotten over.
Quickly realizing your mistake, you shunned yourself for willingly wrapping yourself around his little finger. You returned to scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself with the illuminated screen.
Tom watched as his teammate, and former friend, grabbed at a girl swaying her hips, pushing her ass against his friend’s crotch, into a grind. Suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable where he stood, he moved into the kitchen to grab a drink.
The room let in muffled sounds but ultimately was the quietest room in the building. The white LED lights left the room bright and easy to navigate, albeit the clusters of finished drinks and used cups littered on the counters and in the sink and overflowing out of the trashcan.
The brunette drifted over to the fridge, locating the fresh water bottles hidden from other partygoers.
Feeling quenched, you stood up from your seat, unwillingly. You looked for a quick and precise path to the kitchen, though you failed to do so. Deciding to extemporize it, you awkwardly squished your way through the crowd, mumbling “excuse me” and “sorry” periodically.
Pushing the white-paint clad, wooden door open, you stumbled your way into the room, glaring at the sudden brightness engulfing your vision.
Hearing the music and sound of people cheering grow louder, Tom turned around to see the oh-so familiar girl he had fallen infatuated with many months ago.
You stood, blinking your eyes as they tried to adapt to the sudden change of lighting. Groaning, your hands began massaging and harassing the poor skin of your eyelids.
Your unnoticed ex, still stood in front of the fridge with a cool bottle of water in his hand, smiled at your adorable behaviour — widely contrasting your provocative outfit — watching as your cheeks puffed out in frustration.
Feeling the haze leave your eyes, you looked ahead of you to see a silhouette emerging. Embarrassed, you blushed, looking down at your shoes.
You felt a cool presence resting beside your cheek, and quickly looked at the item.
Water?You thought, confused.
Eyes trailing up the arm holding the bottle, your met with the sight of your former boyfriend smiling at you.
“Tom,” you breathed.
After avoiding and ignoring the boy for so many weeks, you already had forgotten how sweet he looked with a smile and soft blush grazing his cheeks. Maybe you hadn’t forgotten; you were just rarely, if ever, given the opportunity to admire it.
“Hey,” he responded, shyly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
You glanced at the bottle then back to Tom, silently asking what he was doing with it.
“O-Oh, I just thought you’d want a bottle of water, since you don’t drink, but if you do now, that’s totally cool too,” he rambled nervously, like a little boy talking to his crush on the playground.
Although you had only broken up with him a bit over a month ago, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust taking the drink from him.
“Thanks, but I can get one myself. I’m sure you wanted to drink that too.”
You gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile before walking past him to the fridge. Reaching into the cool container, you pulled out a frosted water bottle.
The situation was strange. Everything felt so familiar but so different. It didn’t feel right to talk to each other like you knew how they slept in bed at night or how they loved warm cuddles on the couch as they binged shows and movies.
“Look, Y/N,” Tom spoke up, breaking the tension with a breath, “I know that I was a jerk we were together. I also know that I neglected you. I shouldn’t have cared about what everyone else thought about our relationship.
“Looking back, I understand why you were so frustrated with me, and you had every right to break up with me. I was a wuss that used protecting you as an excuse to keep you under covers. I reveled in the popularity and attention I got, back then.
“I’m different, now, though. I’m not saying you have to take me back. You don’t even have to consider it. All I want to do, right here, right now, is to apologize to you, so, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the anguish and sadness I caused. I’m sorry you had to waste your tears on me. I’m so fucking sorry, and if I have the slightest chance to even be your friend again, please let me take it.”
You felt a churning in your core, and tears prickled the corner of your eyes. You didn’t understand where your emotions arose from. You thought that you had moved on from Tom. You thought you had left him behind, left him in the shadows of your life.
You turned around, hand reaching up to quickly wipe your tears away. That is, until a calloused hand grabbed your wrist.
“Don’t,” the accented voice choked, “It hurts me as much as it does you.”
Your words were caught in your throat. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing but sobs slipped your lips.
Everything became a blur. You could only feel warmth enveloping you.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling,” Tom murmured into your hair.
After the encounter at the party, you and Tom went on with your life as normal.
Although, nothing that happened that night could be considered normal. You cried while he held you tightly in his arms. He apologized for his faults and asked for a second chance, as a friend or more. You forgave him and gave him the chance.
Will you ever want to have the same relationship you had with Tom as before? No.
You and Tom are working on building a better, healthier relationship for the both of you: an open and honest relationship that won’t be hidden from anyone, especially not his “fangirls.”
“Don’t ever hide your tears again,” Tom whispered into your hair, “Let them flow.” His pointer finger gently lifts your chin, locking his eyes with your tear-filled ones. He brings his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the shining streaks of pain, sadness, desperation.
“Let them flow because I’ll be here. I’ll be here to wipe them away every and any time.”
❧prompt: you and tom grew up together but always as enemies — nothing more, nothing less. as you grow older, you must realize it’s time to be mature. you either must throw tom out of your life or take him in as an ally. which will you choose?
❧pairing: prince!tom holland x princess!reader x prince!park jimin
❧genre: angst, barely any fluff, e2l
❧warnings: light swearing, slight verbal abuse (nothing too heavy, only degradation), heartbreak ?
❧a/n: lmao there are so many hidden symbols in this fic except some are revealed so i’ll explain the color symbols in this fic: orange is the change of attraction, pink is romance, and purple is the two characters coming to peace with each other. also this is a bit longer than what i usually write so ;P hopefully the second part makes up for the shitty first chapter lmao. shit, i was originally not going to write a third part but umm… shit. ok see you in the third chapter lmao smh
In your white organza, you let your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the gorgeously growing gardenias. Your dress flows with your movement as you step forward, observing the chrysanthemums. Looking as perfect as usual, you moved ahead to observe your candytufts. All flowers were white, like your dress.
Truthfully, how you obtained these enchanting flowers still puzzles you. They just suddenly appeared one day when you were considering doing something with the empty space the flowers had suddenly occupied in the garden. However, you don’t care. The flowers are perfect.
Life has become quiescent ever since Tom has left you alone, almost to the point you regret pushing him away. Of course, there was a reason to why you acted the way you did. It was time for you to mature, and Tom wasn’t helping that growth whatsoever. Although the more you think about it, the more you realize that you could’ve taken him in as an ally. You couldn’t avoid him forever, and neither could he. Eventually the two of you would grow to rule your kingdoms as king and queen.
Shaking off the growing feelings of regret, you twirl back to the kingdom, hair whipping around with you. Taking one last breath of the fresh air surrounding you, you drag your heavy body back into the same, old, stodgy castle you’ve been living in for years.
To your surprise, a handmaiden is waiting for you, instructing you to follow her on behalf of the king, your father. Leading you to the doors of the dining hall, she adjusts and cleans off your dress, combing your hair until it neatly falls onto your shoulders.
“She’s ready,” you hear the handmaiden whisper to the tall standing butler before quickly rushing off.
“Madam,” he says sticking his arm out as the door opens, “Her royal highness, Princess Y/N L/N.”
Awkwardly curtsying in your dress, you look up to see unfamiliar faces sat across your parents’. The first face to draw in your attention is a man that looks young — a bit older than you but almost your age. Suddenly standing, the man bowed, no words spoken. You smile awkwardly before moving to take the seat beside your mother and across from the man.
“Ah,” the woman sitting across from your mother spoke, “how nice it is to finally meet you.”
You smiled warmly, though forcibly. Your hands rest in your lap, each finger toying with the other. You look down at your manicured hands, taking a moment to put together the pieces, but nothing came to mind. Looking up in frustration, your eyes meet the man across from you. He looks angelic.
His silver hair and pale skin made him look soft. Not only that but his eyes are enchanting. They are a beautiful crystal blue color, reeling you in like you are under a spell. He has plump, pink lips, glistening every time he licks them.
You hear someone clear their throat, “May I introduce King Park and Queen Park of South Korea and their son, Prince Park Jimin.”
Looking around expectedly, waiting for your father or mother to speak up, you are only met with eyes staring at you.
“O-Oh,” you cough gingerly, “It’s a honor to meet you, King Park and Queen Park.” Looking over at the silver-haired boy, you shyly smile, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Park.”
He smiles, and you feel your heart clench at the sight, “And I, you, Princess L/N.”
He stands as you do, bowing to you before stretching a hand out for yours. Hesitantly, you place your hand gently in his and watch as he lightly kisses the back of your hand. Sitting back down, you feel heat rising to your cheeks as your thumb strokes the tingling sensation on the back of your hand.
“Great,” your father quips, “Now that we’ve familiarized ourselves, let’s talk about the marriage.”
At the word, your head snaps up to look at your father. Your gaze seems to be searching for something, a sign that tells you that your ears are deceiving you. Sadly, nothing suggests that your ears are wrong.
For the rest of the discussion, you’re not in your body, soul floating about and out of the kingdom. What pulls you back to reality is the sensation of the chair attempting to be pulled out from underneath you.
Abruptly, you stand up, curtseying the Park Royalty goodbye.
“See you soon, princess,” Jimin says, exchanging the title for a cheeky nickname, before kissing the back of your hand once more but letting his lips linger longer.
You blush away from his touch and give him a shy smile as you watch his slim figure slip out of the large doors.
Once the family is no longer in your sight, you burst at your parents, “Marriage? Seriously?”
You are infuriated. You never expected to be married off to some stranger, nonetheless at such a young age. You had just turned 21, for fucks sake. Moreover, they didn’t even consider discussing the situation beforehand.
“Look, darling,” your mother places a delicate hand on your cheek, “We’re growing old and soon we won’t be able to protect this kingdom. We need to pass it on to someone more reliable and trustworthy.”
“Yeah, then pass it on to me. Just me,” you clarify.
“As much as I’d love to do that, you know it’s not possible. You’re not possibly strong enough on your own,” she gives you sympathetic eyes.
“I’m- Excuse me? Not only are you stripping away my freedom of choosing my own significant other, but you’re now degrading me?” You snap, seeing red.
“You know that’s not what I mean-” your father cuts your mother off.
“Enough! We gave you a chance already,” he huffs, anger rising as well.
“What chance? Vincent? If I had known that-”
“Vincent? That silly boy? No, that was show enough that you can’t choose the right people to help rule this kingdom, but albeit that wasn’t your chance. There’s someone else that’s been beside you all your life. It’s been planned for ages, and you just had to go off and ruin it,” your father roars.
“Who else is there? My handmaidens?” You laugh sarcastically, tears filling your eyes.
“Think, you foolish child! If you can’t even figure out who it is, you definitely won’t be able to rule a kingdom alone,” you shake angrily at your father’s debasing words.
Thinking as hard as you can through your sorrowful rage, a face pops into your head.
Tom.
“Has it finally clicked yet?” Your father’s voice breaks your trance.
“Tom,” you whisper, weakly.
Without any other words, he nods, escorting your mother and himself out of the room, leaving you to think to yourself.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” a handmaiden spoke up, “would you like us to prepare anything? Like a bath or supper?”
Shaking your head, you dismissed her, thoughts racing in your head.
It suddenly got all too stuffy to be staying in the kingdom. You had to get out. You had to breathe in the fresh air of the wet grass, old, growing trees, and your precious flower garden.
Moving as fast as your heel-clad feet could take you, you rush out and towards your white flowers when you notice a silhouette standing above them, watering them.
His brunette locks shine in the golden light of the setting sun. As you move closer, you can see his well-constructed body through his garments. What he wore wasn’t anything special, just a white button down and grey trousers.
“Did you know?” You ask, voice wavering.
“Of course I knew,” he replies, quietly, voice soft to soothe you.
“Why didn’t you-” you felt yourself choke on your words, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I didn’t want to force you into falling for me,” he simply shrugs, hands playing with your flowers. “Although, seeing where we are now, I can’t say that what I did has encouraged us towards marriage.”
Standing in silence together, the pair of your stare at the flowers, the white of the petals turning orange, then pink, and then purple, following the shifting colors of the sky.
“I’ve missed you,” you suddenly blurt out.
Tom turns his head to face you, “I’ve missed you as well, darling.”
Tears erupt from your eyes, and you fall into Tom’s chest, arms wrapping around his torso.
“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I didn’t mean what I said at the ball. I don’t know what got into me.”
You felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.
“It’s alright, darling,” he sighs, hand rubbing the arch of your back.
“It’s not. What I said was wrong. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” you shake your head, hair sticking onto your wet skin.
“I forgive you, darling. Please stop crying,” he says sweetly before pulling back to wipe away your tears.
You look at him with glistening, doe eyes. Your hair is a wild mess, and the minimal makeup you wore had smudged off, revealing your natural beauty.
“Do you want to know something about your flowers?” Tom asks, trying to change the subject and cheer you up.
Nodding, you give him a silent answer.
“These,” he points at your chrysanthemums, “mean truth,” next, the candytufts, “indifference, and finally, my favorite,” the gardenias, “secret love.” He looks over to see your sparkling eyes of fascination, “Ever wonder how you got these?”
“Yes, I wonder every time I see them. Do you know who or how?” You ask, completely oblivious to the fact that he knows you didn’t personally request for the flowers to be planted.
He chuckles, “It was I, darling.”
You turn to face him in shock, “You?”
“Let me explain,” he smiles, “I first sent these to you when I realized my feelings for you. The gardenias represented my hidden love for you, the white chrysanthemums represented that I was going to tell you soon, and the candytufts represented you and your indifference for my feelings. You were perfect. You are perfect,” he corrects himself, “Then, when you started Vincent, I became jealous, and I was mad that you chose the man that you had barely known over me. I was beside you all of your life, yet you chose him,” Tom’s face contorts in jealousy. “I became bitter, and whenever I saw you, I saw him. He was always beside you. I treated you more harshly because of him, but when I heard news of your breakup, I immediately regretted the way I treated you. I should’ve protected you, rather than ignoring you.”
With eyes of awe, you whisper to yourself, “Tom likes me?”
“I’d say ‘love,’ but if you’re more comfortable with ‘like’ then I happy that you’re happy,” he chuckles.
You warm smile drops, “I’m sorry I treated you with such dislike. If I’d known, I would’ve respected you.”
The smug look on his face drops as well, “Does this mean you don’t feel the same way about me?”
“Well, to be honest, Tom, up until a couple weeks ago, I thought we had a mutual hate, but I do think that I have potential feelings for you that are slowly but surely arising. Although, even if we wanted to be together, it would be impossible,” you look down at your hands, tears developing in your quivering eyes at the mention of the arranged marriage.
He smiles lamentably, “I know.”
The two of you stand in silence, heads hanging in despair. None of you have anything else to say, only there to enjoy being in each others presence. You only move when you hear sniffles that don’t belong to you.
“Tom?” You say his name, hopelessly. Not receiving a response from him, you look up to see his shaking figure. “Oh, Tommy,” you coo, taking him into your arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rub his back, face snuggled in the crook of his neck.
You let Tom sob in your arms until he ran out of tears to cry. When he finally collects himself and is in the right state of mind, again, he places a gentle kiss to your cheek before running off and leaving you to yourself in your dark garden.
You look up at the sky. The sun is already long gone, and the stars have come out to play with the moon. A tear falls down your cheek, left with confused feelings and a broken heart.
Jimin sits on the marble seat of his balcony, staring up at the dark sky, wondering what you were up to at the moment. He was infatuated with you at first glance; your beauty lures and traps him.
Jimin smiles at the twinkling stars, a sense of thrill flowing through him.
There were three stars that shone especially brightly that night. One of said stars twinkled its last day, falling unannounced, leaving the one star sad and confused and the other excited and ready.
