tom holland + peter parker

boy of my dreams T.H.

requests: Can you write a blurb about Tom reacting to TS! Reader at the Grammy's and her performance and her winning AOTY pls pls pls

Hey! Could you write a Taylor!reader? Maybe one after the Grammy's and tom just being so proud of her and all?

Blurb about Tom after TS reader won her Grammy and her performance ugh I just love her sm and I feel like London boy would definitely be about him

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It's just another award show, another music event, another silly performance in front of your peers and fellow musicians and artists. Sure, you've won Grammys before, but to Tom, this is all new territory, and in his eyes, he couldn't be any prouder — not just of your nominations, but of you and all your work this year, your music and your light that you continue to shine.

Tom can't wait to see your performance; he knows you have something special in store — you've been teasing him for weeks, about your plans and what you're performing. Now, as you're ushered backstage with your fellow songwriters, his excitement only grows.

On the low roof of a cabin, you start with "cardigan," smiling at the audience and following the familiar rhythm of your song. You lock eyes with Tom, who's eyes shine a happy glint, and as you start the chorus, you see him lean over to Harry, who stands beside him backstage, at the end of the set. You don't know how, but you make out the words on his lips, "That's my girl."

Continuing with the song, you heave off of the slanted roof and make your way over to the inside of the woodsy and cozy cabin. The guitar chords of "august" ring through the air, and Tom feels an immeasurable amount of joy flood his veins. It's one of his favorite songs from the album, and he can't help feel happy about how you're sharing this song with the world, off all the things.

Jack and Aaron are seated beside you, stringing along to the music while the lyrics flow from your mouth, smoothly and emotionally. Again, even through your nerves, you make eye contact with Tom. His eyes crinkle and his lips turn up in a gentle smile.

Covid limits crowds, so you're performing for the camera to record you, for the ears to listen to the echo of your voice in the colossal studio.

Your last song of the night, "willow," starts in a happy huff, and you rock along to the music with Jack, smiling and swinging your arms a bit. When the song finishes, Tom's first to clap, to cheer, to whistle. He's loudest and he's hardest, and you can feel his radiating support with your entire heart.

Making your way off the stage, you part ways with the microphone and find Tom backstage. You let out a shaky breath just as Tom comes into your view, and he opens his arms widely. With a smile, your feet pick up and you engulf yourself in his embrace, revelling in the feeling of his arms around you.

"You did amazing, love," He says from the crook of your neck, where he's hidden away. "I'm so proud of you."

"Thank you, Tommy," you separate to hold his face in your arms, and you share a quick kiss before running down the hallway and finding your way back to your table where the awards ceremony will begin.

The night drags on, award after award called out and celebrated. Your hand is linked with Tom's under the table, and even though he has a mask on, you can tell he's smiling. Before you know it, your category for Album of the Year is called out, and "folklore,'s" nomination is rung through the air.

"And the winner is..." The envelope opens, "Folklore, by Y/N L/N."

You stand up immediately, fingers removing your mask just as your manager directed you to do. Tom does the same, engulfing you in another hug — this time, public — and you link hands and make your way to the stage. Aaron and Jack lead the way, and Tom's almost surprised that you're bringing him on stage with you. You can already hear twitter blowing up.

"Uhm," you smile, glancing down at the award, "This is so crazy. I'm so thankful, and grateful for all the people who helped me — Jack, who I play every song for, and Aaron, who wrote pretty much every song with me. And Tom, especially," You breath a chuckle into the microphone. "For supporting my creative flow during the crazy quarantined era." You turn to look at him, and he's blushing so much. His hand feels void of yours, but he's too proud to really do much but wait. "Thank you so much, I love you with my whole heart."

You hand the Grammy to Jack, and he continues on with his own park of the speech, and then Jack hands it off to Tom, who wasn't expecting to be a part of the public performance.

"Uhm," he giggles shyly, looking down at the Grammy which has your name engraved on it. He feels a burst of love and pride, and it urges him to continue. "I can't tell you all how much I know Y/N deserves this. I'm so honored to have been a part of the makings of this album, and I'm just so glad you all love it as much as I do. Thank you all, have a good night," he motions for you to step closer to him, and the two of you raise the award up in the air, sounds of laughter and joyous whispers getting lost in the audience's applause.

The cameras cut to commercial break, and you search for Tom's hand through the people on the stage. His nimble fingers find yours, and suddenly you've linked hands again. With the trophy in hand, you descend the stairs and find your way back to your table. Tom pulls out your chair for you, but before he lets you sit down, he pulls you into his chest, whispering an "I'm so fucking proud of you, love."

He didn't expect tears in your eyes when you separated, but they're there, and you can't help but love him even more.

"Thank you, Tommy," you mouth back, sitting in your seat, hand still in his.

"I love you," he kisses your cheek. "With or without a Grammy."

Later on, when you arrive home with your newest win for the collection, Tom sets the car keys into its designated bowl and helps you up the stairs.

"Unzip me?" you smile, motioning to your back. Tom mirrors your smile, striding over in his suit, fingers hitting the skin of your neck and dragging all the way down until the dress loosens on your body.

"I love you, y'know," he says while removing his rolex watch.

You smile again, sitting on the bed to take off your heels. "I know." It's gentle, the energy in the room. It's full of comfort, and that familiar love that lets you know that everything's secure, and all is okay.

"I'm so proud to be your boyfriend," he blushes when he admits this, sitting beside you on the mattress and placing his warm hand over yours.

Your heart practically bursts as he says this, and you can't help the overwhelming urge to cry. "Aww, Tom."

"I mean it," he squeezes your hands and breathes a laugh through his own tears — seeing you cry makes him start crying. "I'm so lucky. So, so lucky," he whispers, forehead against yours. You lick your lips with a smile, feeling his mint breath fan your face.

"You're a dream, Thomas." You giggle, lips finally molding against his. "The boy of my dreams."