tom holland + peter parker

silver surprise T.H.

request: Hey I love your writing! Could you do the reader surprising Tom at a premiere after she told him she couldn't get time off work? Xx

sorry it's a lil short :(

—

Spider-man: No Way Home is probably one of Tom's most important movies yet, and while he longed for you to accompany him to the premiere, you just couldn't fly out in time.

Or so he thought.

Knowing this movie was the last of this contract saddened him, and he was constantly anxious about whether or not Sony would fight for a few more movies with Tom as Spider-man.

He was genuinely looking forward to, what could be his last Spider-man premiere, with you. He was counting on you being there, but knowing now that you couldn't make it because of your work had killed his mood to some degree.

He's still dressed well, though, after asking you for your opinion on what suit he should wear.

Currently, he's sitting in the backseats of the limousine, foot tapping anxiously, nervously. He keeps reaching over to grab your hand, only you're not there, and his pout grows wider. Harry pats his knee empathetically, camera around his neck despite him well-dressed, too.

"Sorry she couldn't be here, mate."

"'S alright. Just miss her."

They don't get to converse for any longer, because the chauffeur is informing them that they've arrived, and Tom is stepping out of the vehicle, right foot hitting the carpet first. There are dozens and dozens of balloons blown up and tied to the posts around the area, and a large, Spider-man is hanging in the air, just like at the Far From Home Premiere. There are hundreds of screaming fans, whose volume levels increase as Tom comes into view.

He's wearing a dark, forest green suit, and a few thick rings. He cleans up well, and his usually messy curls are slicked back, tidy like his dress shirt. Harry steps out of the car after a few beats, and the crowd of fans doesn't get quieter.

Tom smiles widely, waving to them all while he makes his way across the carpet and over to the group of cast members. He greets Zendaya first, who's fitted in a tight, sleek dress that's a deep color of red with Spider-man printed designs on it. Her hair is styled naturally, in kinks, and she has a slick necklace straight down the navel of her chest.

The two of them hug before talking. "Guess this could be the end of an era," She speaks quietly, smile still wide as ever. Tom nods along, his own smile never faltering.

"It's so surreal."

"I know. We've been doing this for over six years, now, and I'm still not used to it."
"Yeah. I can't believe how far we've gotten."
The two of them take in the sights around them, and suddenly, Zendaya is reminded of the absence of a close friend. "Are you still bummed about Y/N?" She pops the question randomly, and Tom is reminded all over again of you, and how much he misses you and longs to hold your hand for just five minutes.

"Yeah," Tom sighs, scratching the back of his neck while he waves to a group of girls who are recording him, cheering for him to sign papers and take a few selfies.

"Well, I wouldn't be too bummed anymore." She points to something behind him, and Tom hears the cheers and screams of fans before he sees who's just arrived.

You're thanking Harrison for opening the car door for you, and as you step out of the car, you spot Tom, eyes connecting while you smile sheepishly. You wave to the fans, picking up the front of your dress so you can walk easier.

You're fitted in a silver dress — it puffs out, and the lace sleeves are puffy and hang nicely. You're elegant and cultivating, and you take Tom's breath away.

The two of you meet in the middle, and as your hands connect behind his neck, his thick fingers find home on your waist. He's smiling endlessly, now, eyes crinkling while he almost tears up.

"What are you doing here?"

You smile sheepishly. "Had to support my best boy."

"I thought- I thought you couldn't... make it."

"Well then," You move in closer, his face spaces away from yours. The distance is so easy to close, and as the fans scream louder at the proximity of the two of you, you smile harder. Suddenly, you're whispering the words against his lips, the syllables barely getting out just as your lips connect, soft and sensually at first, but then deep and passionate, making a show of it. Hoots and hollers and claps and cheers go around, but neither of you listen to them, merely pulling each other closer, losing air.

"Surprise."