tom holland oneshots

just like magic

warnings: mean friends, bit of a breakdown but no mentions of anxiety or depression

summary: reader writes "just like magic" about tom

word count: 600

(requested) love this song so fuckin much i love u

Losing friends let and right, I just send em love and light.

Good karma, my aesthetic

Keep my conscience clear, that's why I'm so magnetic

Manifest it, I finessed it

Take my pen and write some love letters to heaven. 

"Look Y/N, you're just not good for press not now. My manager is telling me to stay away but I don't need to hear it from him to do it," your friend, another celebrity, told you. You nodded at her, looking down and trying not to cry. 

The next day, several headlines come up with your name:  Miley Cyrus cuts ties with Y/N L/N for getting involved in petty drama. Is this the end of their collaboration after Don't Call Me Angel?" 

After that, things had spiraled downhill, a few of your other friends texting and calling to say they thought it best if you didn't interact. You were in your room, sitting on the bed, legs cross, your phone in your lap. Your fingers were encased around the device, which was off, and your head was down. 

"Hey, love I was thinking- what's wrong?" he stopped in his tracks, drinking in your appearance. Tom could read you better than anyone, and he especially knew when something was wrong. 

"Nothing," you mumbled, sniffling. 

"Now," he sat next to you, pulling your hands into his lap. "None of that. You know you can talk to me, right?" 

You nodded, and Tom's gaze on you didn't falter at all. 

"It's just- it feels like everyone's leaving me and it feels like it's all my fault because I'm not a good person or-"

"Hey, hey hey," Tom calmed you down, wiping away a fallen tear. "You are not a horrible person. No matter what anyone says or thinks, yourself included. You are amazing, and you're trying your best." 

You nodded, looking down, and one of Tom's hands went on the underside of your chin, moving your head up. 

"And look," he linked his hands with yours. "I'm still here, aren't I?"

You nodded, laughing through the tears, and Tom pulled you into his lap for a hug, holding you against his chest and kissing the top of his head. 

***

A few months later, you're in your home studio, tears falling one after another. You're writing in your journal, and message you never got to say to someone. 

You heard Tom knock on the door, and you allowed him to come in. 

"How're you doing, love?" he sits next to you, rubbing your back.

You sniffled, "just one of those days, I guess."

"Yeah," Tom rubs softly. "I get it." 

"Just miss him." 

Tom's heart breaks at the confession, and he pulls you into a hug, keeping you close for a few minutes. 

"What if we write a song about it, yeah? I know you love doing that; you're so happy and so good at it, too." 

"Yeah," you nodded softly. "I like that." 

**

Hours later and you're working on the melody, Tom sitting next to you and pitching ideas. When you're stuck on a verse, you hear Tom humming something out, and your heart stops. 

"Wait Tom, do that again." 

"What?" he looks up. "Middle finger to my thumb and then I snap it?" he sings out, and you start patting his arm repeatedly. 

"That's it!" 

"Yo- you're going to use that in the song?" he looks to you with wide eyes. 

"Yeah," you smile at him. "I really like it."