softie

Pairing: Tom Holland x Fem Reader 

Warnings: fluff, soft tom and reader, drunk reader, lil bit ‘o language, slight mention of anxiety

Summary: based off the prompts “you take my breath away” and “your hands are so much bigger than mine”

Word Count: 1.7K

Note: Soo this imagine is based off of prompts from @madmadmilk 5K celebration!! You should definitely read all their stories they’re my favourites and you can catch other writers participating in the 5K celebration as well! enjoy 

You weren’t one to get drunk often, and Tom knew that for a fact. Over the years that he had known you, Tom had always been the one to have a sip too many and he usually had you to drive him home and baby him the whole time until he fell asleep. The two of you had a trust in each other that you couldn’t seem to find in anyone else, a mutual dependency on one another that most people believed breached what you would find in a friendship. And tonight proved that dependency to be more true than ever.

There wasn’t any particular reason as to why it happened. Nothing tragic or angering occurred for you to drink that much other than the fact that you just wanted to let the responsibility you always felt the need to hold loose for the night. But, that responsibility you held on to for so long only came to a disadvantage when you realized that it didn’t take much to dull out your instincts. In your defense, if you had gone with Tom instead of a handful of coworkers, someone would have known better than let you have as much as you did. Even with being your friends, your coworkers didn’t know you as well as Tom did, no one really seemed to know you as well as Tom did to be fair. And boy did that bite you in the ass tonight.

You don’t really know what drink you were on when you called Tom, all you knew was that you weren’t in much control of yourself and in the back of your mind, you hated it. As your awareness began to decrease, you felt a spike of anxiety and before you knew it, you were frantically searching for your phone. Even with the world around you being in a hectic blur, it wasn’t hard for you to find Tom’s name in your contacts, he seemed to be the only instinct you had left in you to reach for. 

As you were listening to the dull tone of the phone ringing, you couldn’t help but anxiously chew on your fingernails, a habit you thought you got rid of long ago but you needed a distraction from waiting for what felt like an eternity for Tom to answer. Just as you were about to give up trying to call him, Tom answered with a groggy, “Hello?”, that exhausted greeting forcing you realize how late it had become. 

“Hey Tommy” you almost whispered, your new guilt for waking him up making you shy away from speaking out more. “Did I…did I wake you? I’m sorry, let me try to call someone else-” 

“Y/N, are you drunk?” Tom cuts off what you now realized was a barely coherent ramble. You only hum in response, not wanting to embarrass yourself more with your messy speech. “Are you alright?” 

You feel yourself softly smile at the concern held in his voice, and how that concern seemed to wake him up. Without answering, you begin to think about all the times your roles had been reversed, when you’d get those drunken calls from the boy who only seemed to find comfort in you in that state of mind. You giggle drunkenly at the seemingly hilarious irony before you hear Tom call your name over the phone.

“Y/N, come on, are you alright?“ This time, he seems more stern in his question, and this works in finally getting you to answer. 

“I’m alright, Tom, I just-” You pause, trying to think of a way to voice what you were feeling but your inebriated mind made it more difficult than usual. “I just want to be with you right now. I want you Tom.” The softness in your voice made a gasp escape Tom’s lips, hearing what he usually said to you being said back to him being more than surprising, and everything he never knew he needed. 

“Okay pretty girl, tell me where you are and I’ll be with you soon.” After a few minutes of you trying to figure out where you even were, you told him, and you felt as if he couldn’t get to you soon enough. But after a short ten minutes, which to you felt like a lifetime, Tom was there with you and the mere sight of him eased the anxiety you had been feeling just minutes before. 

It took a bit of shoving and squeezing between bodies for Tom to reach you, but you kept your eyes on him the entire time, making sure you never lost your source of tranquility. Once he finally got to you, Tom reached out his tan hand to you and you immediately wrapped your own around it. It took no effort for Tom to lift you up from the chair you were sitting on, and once you stood up you relaxed into his side, all the nerves you had felt becoming a distant memory. 

Tom wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to his side, keeping a firm yet comforting grip on you to make sure you didn’t fall. Without looking, your hand searches for his own and you lace your fingers half halfheartedly with his. 

As the two of you slowly make your way out of the bar, you play with Tom’s fingers, looking only at the laced pair of hands and nothing else. After you stumble a few times, Tom looks down at you to make sure you’re alright, to see that your attention is only fixated on the soft touches you lay on his hands. Without even knowing, Tom stares adoringly at you before looking back up to make sure at least one of you is aware of where you’re walking.

Before you know it, Tom is softly buckling you into your seat belt, seeing as you’d been too lost in your own sweet world to care too much about it. You look up at Tom as he finishes and he pauses, still leaning through the car door, to look back at you. You smile sweetly at him, as if to give him a small thanks for taking care of you. He smiles back just as sweetly before whispering, “Got precious cargo in here. Gotta keep it safe.” 

You barely get to process his statement before he closes your door and trails to the other side of the car and before you know it, the car was moving along to the soft music playing on the radio. 

You leaned your head on the window, the cool class feeling good against your clammy skin. You stare at the passing buildings and lamp posts before turning to the boy next to you. You look at his unkempt fluff of chocolate brown hair, his beautifully sharp jawline and the lights reflecting on his pale face. You smile softly to yourself before reaching out for his hand once again, him happily obliging, but obviously keeping a strong attention on the road in front of him.

Once again you find yourself staring at his hands, tracing the lines in his palms before placing your own hand flat on top of his. You hum to yourself, feeling the strangely comforting calloused skin, before saying softly, “Your hands are so much bigger than mine.” 

Just as the statement mindlessly leaves your lips, the car comes to a slow stop at a red light, and Tom takes this chance to really look at you. He lets out a soft laugh at your stupidly sweet sentiment, and he can’t help but fall more in love with you by the second. You continue your soft touches to his hands as he turns back to the road, continuing the journey to his apartment. 

Much to your dismay, you’re pulled away from your enchantment with Tom’s hands once you reach his apartment. The two of you make the journey to his door in a comfortable silence, him making sure he’s close enough to you just in case you were to lose your balance, though the short trip in his car seemed to sober you up significantly, and you couldn’t help but feel completely content.

Once you’re inside his apartment he walks you over to the bathroom, one hand softly placed on your back and the other holding a sweatshirt of his and a pair of your own shorts that you must have left there before. You softly take the clothing from his hands and before you close the door to change you can’t help but look up at him, catching yourself in a short staring contest of unspoken feelings and adoration with the pair of dark brown eyes that you’ve come to love. Once again, you smile softly at him, before closing the door and changing.

You walk out of the bathroom, now wearing Tom’s sweatshirt, finding yourself engulfed in his scent, and you can’t help but feel yourself being so utterly fulfilled with comfort from it. You hear the small hum of the T.V and see the soft flashes of light from the living room, and your bare feet patter against the soft floor as you walk over to the couch. 

Tom feels the couch dip under your weight as you join him in aimlessly staring at whatever late-night movie was playing. After a few short moments, Tom turns to look over at you and feels himself at awe at how beautiful you look. He can’t help but look over your face, at how your long lashes lay softly at your cheeks, and how the colors from the TV hit your smooth skin. 

Tom doesn’t even try to resist as he reaches over and tucks a small piece of hair behind your ear before brushing a finger softly on your cheek. You turn your attention from the TV to Tom and yet again you find yourselves looking into the others eyes, nothing but a pure love for each other being held inside them. 

“You take my breath away.” Tom whispers to you, still leaving soft strokes against your cheek. He feels your cheek rise under his hand as you smile happily at him. You scoot yourself as close to him as you possibly can, laying your head on his chest, over his beating heart, and the two of you sit there together, basking in the comfort you bring each other and in the love that soon enough would no longer be unspoken.

natasha: no that’s your mission

steve: 

You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.

Here is a link on how to help and what the current situations are, and here is a direct link to the fundraiser.

i know tumblr doesn’t give a SHIT when things happen in countries outside the “most popular ones” (such as the usa & england). it’s true, don’t lie to me. y’all don’t give A FUCK. not every issue and problem in said countries gets the appropriate exposure but in general shit shows up on the news WORLD FREAKING  WIDE. you set up donations, you help out, your spread the word, you say “pray for x”……

southern europe is burning. 

my country is burning.

people are dying - at home, on the road, trying to run away, in their cars.

yesterday my country had 300 active fires.

people are losing EVERYTHING they own.

i have a friend that is on a train right now passing through places that have been burnt to the ground and she says the smoke is so intense it’s getting inside the train and she can barely breathe.

and yet, even though several people (myself included) have been trying to bring awareness to what has been happening in southern europe… what we get from most of you, those not part of the countries suffering, is silence. we don’t ask for money, we don’t ask for shit other than a reblog to spread awareness… something you can delete in 24/48hrs if you wish. 

i don’t know what to tell you. i’m angry. i’m frustrated. i’m disappointed. i feel like i’m screaming into the void. “a reblog does nothing” - you know that’s a damn lie, you know exposure always helps, you know people start paying attention when posts on social media become popular. my country in particular is a small one, we get ZERO exposure. y’all are only starting to figure out we even fucking exist bc of the shit we’ve been winning lately. 

but hell, if the EU doesn’t give a shit, why should some user on tumblr dot com?

again, i don’t know what to tell you so i’ll let the images speak for themselves: 

An image captured by a Nasa satellite shows a thick plume of smoke blowing southward from the Greek island of Chios over the island of Crete

Torneros de Jamuz, Spain

Duca, Croatia

A helicopter from Italy’s civil protection service drops water on a fire near the railway between Venice and Trieste

Residents take refuge on the beach as a wildfire burns on the mountain next to the village of Lithi, on the Greek island of Chios

Men gather cattle during a forest fire in Vieira de Leiria, Marinha Grande, Portugal.

Charred trees are seen on the hills above the Cloister of Thivaidas on Mount Athos, a World Heritage Site in Greece

Portugal