Tom Holland tumblr imagines and smuts

Polaroids (roommate!PP)

Author: devotion

Warnings: fluff, boobs and a sprinkle of suggestiveness and swears

if there's one thing that peter can't do apart from saving the whole of queens, despite that taking more effort than anything, it's simply not following instructions on a wardrobe manual.

"half of this doesn't even make any sense," he exasperates, finally giving up and throwing the sheet onto the bed, "place the stick in the hole and twist until you hear the click. i'll fucking shove my stick in─"

"─peter!" you scold him, still finding it amusing him getting frustrated, "you're not putting any stick anywhere! give me that thing."

his frown turns into a smirk, "my stick?"

"we're not going to start calling it that, are we?" you grimace, "now give me the manual. let me do it myself, you big baby."

"your big baby."

as you turn around towards the many pieces laying on the floor, sheet in hand, you smile, shaking your head. just as peter begins to think on what to busy himself with, he picks up your heartbeat without realising - slightly higher than usual he's noticed - and it makes him chuckle.

this summer, just like every other since you've been in university together, you've decided that it was time to sweeten up the look in your apartment. what solely was going through old stuff last night, eventually lead you to find quite a few special photos of yours and peter's friends. it was the smart idea of your boyfriend to frame them and hang them all around the house, to which you approved of─with much excitement.

the hum of the printer runs in the background, having scanned the polaroids beforehand on your phone in the morning. there are pictures that hold many memories of your journey together─from friends to best friends, which you still are now even as a couple. the selfie of you together in venice: the place you both shared your first kiss; the photo secretly taken, courtesy of mj, when peter proposed to you; the image of you, mj, ned and peter at graduation with their parents and aunt may -- all within the collection that you're choosing to put up on the walls of your humble abode.

however, the one that moves you the most is the one that was taken by him─it was way past midnight when peter had come barging in your room, sweaty, groaning, but most of all, hurt. he could never forget the way you aided him─far more gentle than any other time he'd ever seen you. he already loved you then, he said. it was when you had just began to sleep, head on his lap, exhausted after stitching up his wounds, that he knew he'd always count on you. he vowed to do the same, and even more to do anything to protect you. and peter being peter, snapped a picture of you both then, capturing the sweet moment that he said he cherished the most.

that was when he fell for you deeply. and he's never regretted doing so till the very day.

an hour later, you find yourself pushing the wardrobe with peter to its rightful place. it's done as quick as you thought it would have given the strength that he's granted with.

"love?" peter breathes out, catching your attention, "i've put one in the kitchen."

you furrow your eyebrows. turning to the door, peter beckons you to follow him out the room and downstairs. once you're in the kitchen, you see peter motioning towards the polaroid, framed and stuck onto the wall above the marble bar.

the picture is of your second date where peter decided to teach you to cook spaghetti. something you never imagined you would do but it happily ended up being one of the best dishes of your life.

"decided to put this in the kitchen," he explains, "since our first date was in may's kitchen, i thought why not?"

you're lost for words, really. perhaps you could add this day to your mental list of sentimental moments because your eyes are beginning to water. "you already did it?" you ask quietly.

peter panics, "wait, was i not meant to? you were just busy with─"

"─no, no," you interrupt him, "it just looks, well... pretty. like you."

his gaze melts, walking towards you to wrap his arms round your shoulders, warm and earnest. peter then kisses your temple before pecking your lips lightly.

later, he shows you another photograph displayed near the door to the apartment, which would have made you sob by now since it's your favourite picture of you together. and as endearing as it looks, with peter on your left and his arm slung over your shoulder, you couldn't help but laugh at where his arm is placed.

you look over to him, and he's already squeezing his eyes shut to stop himself himself from laughing.

"peter," you mention, "stop grabbing my boob."

peter opens his eyes, tutting, "babe, i'm not grabbing your boob. i'm grabbing your heart."

"that's my right boob though."

"babe."