I love this idea! I hope you like it
Thirsty
Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader
Warning: it’s thirsty tweets, so adult humor and crude comments
“Hi I’m Y/n L/n.” Tom said to the camera while sneaking at glance at you to see if you laughed.
“And I’m Tom Holland.” You bounced off his joke with a giggle. “And today, we’re going to be reading thirsty tweets.”
“The tweets aren’t thirsty, darling. It’s the people writing them.” Tom corrected you. He gave the camera a pointed look as you laughed at your mistake, already feeling giddy for the video.
“I’m sorry. Let’s start the video, shall we?” You asked as you picked a tweet out of the bucket. “I wonder how big Tom Holland’s- oh and this is Buzzfeed!” You suddenly remembered to credit the creators of the video. Everyone on set, including Tom burst out laughing. Tom plucked the tweet out of your hands.
“I think we’ve heard enough of the one.” Tom said as he tossed the paper over his shoulder.
“Take a two minute break. That’ll be our intro.” Someone from behind the camera called. You gave them a thumbs up and turned to Tom.
“Are you excited or nervous?” You asked him as your straighten the collar of his jacket. You’d made a habit of tidying up Tom since he had a habit of being disheveled.
“I try to always turn my nerves into excitement.” Tom told you. “But I’m a little nervous about what they’re going to say about you. You, being so hot and all.”
You laughed and tossed some of your straightened hair behind your shoulder.
“Oh, you know. I aim to please.” You replied. You were a little nervous yourself. You could only imagine what crazy things fans could’ve tweeted at your movie star boyfriend. He was definitely a fan favorite, and had a whole army of girls begging to be his. You’d just recently announced that you were together and this was your first video together as an official couple. So yeah, you were nervous.
Your break ended and you picked the first official tweet out of the bucket.
“Tom Holland is zaddy.” You read. It was a nice, calm way to start the video.
“That wasn’t bad.” Tom nodded. “Short and sweet.” He selected a tweet from the bucket.
“Y/n L/n looks a lot like my next girlfriend.” He read. He made a displeased face at the camera.
“I don’t know, mate. I heard she has a boyfriend. A really good looking one too.” Tom joked. You rolled your eyes as he took another tweet.
“Tom Holland is so fine. I think I rewatched the scene when Peters suit falls off a million times.” He read.
“Same girl.” You commented. You took the bucket from his hands and put your hand on the side of your mouth, whispering loudly, “it’s even better in person.”
“If I could only let one person bone me the rest of my life, it would be Y/n L/n.” You read out loud. Your eyes widened at the bold tweet.
“That escalated quickly.” You said. Tom didn’t look amused.
“She already has someone to do that, so.” Tom shrugged smugly and tossed the tweet aside.
“Thomas!” You smacked his arm and looked at the camera. “Do you see what I have to put up with? Let’s keep it PG, please.”
“@YOURNAMELASTNAME, girl, what you doing? Get your ass back in the Louvre where you belong.” You read.
“I liked that one.” Tom said with a nod of approval. “Because you are a work of art.”
You smiled at him and picked out another tweet.
“My sexuality is the veins in Tom Holland’s right arm.” You smacked your knee as you laughed. Tom just shook his head.
“I don’t even know what that means.” He remarked as he took a tweet.
“Y/n L/n, if you’re reading this, by all means, foreclose on my house. Destroy my credit score. Flood my basement. Ruin my life. I beg you.” He read dramatically. The lack of crudeness towards earned a chuckle from him.
“Aw that’s...sweet?” You said, sounding more like a question. You look a tweet from the bucket and cleared your throat.
“I would let 30-50 feral hogs trample over me if Tom Holland was the paramedic who transferred my corpse into the back of the ambulance.” Tom read. You burst out laughing until your stomach hurt.
“That was graphic.” You said between giggles. “And incredibly specific.”
“She wouldn’t really need an ambulance at that point though, would she?” Tom asked you, not ready to leave the topic yet.
“I’ve never been trampled by 30-50 wild hogs, so I wouldn’t know.” You replied. Tom gave you a cheeky grin.
“It’s feral hogs, love.” He teased. He had a way of forgetting cameras were there when you were around.
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You said sarcastically as you took a tweet.
“Tom Holland is the only man who deserves rights.” You read and nodded in agreement. Tom did as well which made you laugh.
“I want Y/n L/n to use my face as a trampoline.” Tom read. He looked at the paper in his hands for a long time. “Now, why are mine so tame and yours are borderline insane?” He was beginning to find the tweets less and less funny. He didn’t like people tweeting about you in such vulgar ways, especially when they didn’t even know you.
“I guess my fans just really like me.” You shrugged and picked up another tweet. “I want Tom Holland to drive over me with his private jet.”
“It’s actually Sonys jet, but I appreciate the gesture.” Tom answered as he took a tweet out of the bucket. “My ideal weight is Y/n L/n on top of me.” Tom clicked his tongue, feeling a little twinge of anger in the pit of his stomach. “That’s unfortunate, since she’s a little busy being on top of me.”
You looked at the camera with wide eyes and a dropped jaw.
“What did I say? PG!” You snatched the bucket from his hands and pretended to be angry. Tom knew he shouldn’t have said it, though be it true, but he just wanted to remind the people watching of your relationship. Tom took the bucket back from you and pressed a kiss to your cheek.
“I’m just letting the fans know who’s you are.” Tom replied with a cocky smile. “All mine.”
“I just wanna know how Y/n L/ns lips feel😔” He read. “And then they put a little sad face emoji.”
“Aw. You don’t have to be sad.” You told the camera.
“They feel amazing, by the way.” Tom quipped, giving the camera a cheeky wink. “But you’re never gonna know.”
“I want Tom Holland to use his jawline to cut me into fries.” You read. It made you chuckle again. You slid your finger across Toms jawline and smiled.
“Me too, baby, me too.” You said and picked out another one.
“This one is about you again. It says “Tom Holland walks into a room and his ass walks in 20 minutes later.” I have to agree.” You nodded. “Daddy thiccums.”
“Don’t start with that again, darling.” Tom groaned. Someone had commented that on his post the week prior and you wouldn’t let him live it down. You thought it was the funniest nickname in existence. Tom, of course, hated it, which is exactly why you snuck it into conversations every now and then.
“What? There’s nothing to be ashamed of, baby. If you got it, flaunt it.” You announced as you swiped some hair off his forehead. He felt a little hot to the touch. You noticed his jaw was clenched for the first time. If you weren’t being filmed, you’d have been all over him, asking if he was okay. You knew you had to bite your tongue until the interview was over.
“Y/n L/n can have it anytime she wants it.” You read off the paper.
“She doesn’t want it.” Tom deadpanned.
“Hey.” You laughed and took the tweet from his hand. “That’s mean.”
“Look at his profile picture. He looks like a foot.” Tom pointed to the tiny profile picture that could barley be seen on the paper.
“A foot?” You laughed and took another tweet from the bucket. There was definitely something off about Tom. You were sure of it now.
”Tom Holland’s ass is phat with a PH.” You read. You looked at the camera and wiggled your eyebrows.
“Again, completely true.” You agreed.
“Why are all of these about my butt?” Tom asked with a smile, but sounding genuinely confused.
“Maybe because you’re dummy thick.” You shrugged and took another tweet.
“Y/n in that dress at the Far From Home premiere? She walked in and said BAWDY. She said body-ody-ody.” You read from the paper.
“Stop.” You put your hand over your face in sudden embarrassment. “You’re too kind.”
“Are they wrong, though? I loved you in that black and red dress.” Tom commented and took one from the bucket.
“I had to show my man some support by wearing his colors. My man, being Spider-Man I mean. Not this loser.” You pointed you thumb at Tom.
“Hey.” He put his hand over his heart and pouted at you. “I am your man.”
“I know.” You presses a quick kiss to his still red cheeks. “I’m only teasing, lover.”
Tom looked satisfied with you answer and read his tweet.
“Not to be horny on main, but I want to hold Tom Holland’s hand.” He said. He immediately slipped his hand into yours and held them up for the camera.
“Sorry.” He said. “My hands are full.”
“@backseatL/N asks, has Y/n broken up with the Brit yet? I’m tryna know if I can shoot my shot or not.” You read. You wished you’d read it to yourself before reading it out loud. It was sure to get a rise out of Tom.
“She did not.” Tom looked directly into the camera. “So you can not.”
You could hear the tension in his voice. He was wavering from joking around to actually being serious. You squeezed his hand gently to let him know everything was alright. Tom seemed to appreciate the gesture and gave you a grateful smile.
“Sorry guys.” You said, your eyes never leaving Tom. “You know I love a London boy.”
Tom picked out a tweet that had a picture of himself at the Far From Home premiere attached.
“I would let Tom Holland break my legs. I don’t know why this photo made me realize that but it did.” He read. You took the paper in your own hands to examine the picture.
“Oh God.” You said. “Remember when you took me golfing for like our third date and you hit me in the leg with a golf ball?”
“I do.” Tom bit back a smile. “I can’t believe you let me take you on another date after that.”
He appeared to be in a better mood until you read the next tweet.
“Y/n is way too fine to be wasting her time with that toothpick. I could show her how a REAL man does it. Just wait, @YOURNAMELASTNAME, I’m coming for you. #tomhollandbetterprayup.”
You grimaced and crumpled the tweet up into a ball. Tom did not look happy and you were starting to see why.
“I think she’s been shown how a real man does it.” Tom said, trying to sound like he was kidding for the camera but not succeeding. You could tell he was throughly pissed off now and hoped the fans wouldn’t be able to tell.
“Yes I have.” You slammed your fist down like you were in court. “Real men hit you with golf balls and then laugh instead of getting you ice.”
Tom laughed at your joke so you kept going to pull him out of his sour mood. “Also, who are they calling toothpick?” You asked as you squeezed Toms bicep. “This thing feels like a ripe avocado.”
“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” Tom said in his sassy voice. You pinched his cheek before taking out another tweet.
“The sun shines for Y/n L/n. It only shines on the rest of us out of pity. It belongs to her and only her.” You read. “Aw. That was really cute.” You said. “Thank you, @fistmetonystark.”
The username caught you off guard. Tom let out a loud laugh as your face went red in embarrassment.
“Okay.” You dragged out the word. “Moving on.”
“I’m just trying to take a bubble bath and watch Home Alone with Tom Holland. Is that to much to ask?” Tom read off a paper.
“In my opinion, that is a lot to ask.” You kidded.
“I think the bath would get cold by the time the movie ended.” Tom said in an attempt to apply logic to the absurd tweet.
“But in my experience, bubble baths with Tom Holland are fun.” You saluted the camera and Tom smiled at you. Your attempt to calm him down wasn’t going unnoticed by him.
“They’re fun until Y/n gets soap in your eyes.” He said to the camera.
“Let the record show that I got soap in his eye once.” You emphasized. “And it was only because I happened to sneeze.”
Tom grabbed the leg of your stool and pulled your chair closer to his. You rested your head on his shoulder as he read the next one.
“@thatswhatmakesyoubootyful says, who said Tom Holland was allowed to have such a juicy dumper? I want answers.” Tom read and you bent over in a fit of laughter. “I can’t believe I had to read that with my own two eyes.”
“JUICY DUMPER.” You screamed. The crew laughed in the background. Tom just shook his head, stifling a laugh.
“@YOURNAMELASTNAME, I just want to put a ring on your pretty little finger. Lord knows Holland won’t do it.” You read once you caught your breath. You wiped a tear from your eye, still to fully recovering from the last tweet. Tom, who was fully recovered, took offense to this one.
“Holland will do it.” He snapped, almost sounding angry. “Holland will most definitely do it, and you can quote me on that, @chokemeharry2011.”
You giggled at the username and picked a paper out of the bucket.
“I want Tom Holland to chop me up and feed me to Tessa.” You raised your eyebrows. “Please don’t. She’s fat enough.”
“Hey!” Tom took the bucket from your hands. “Don’t make fun of my baby.”
“Your fat baby.” You said under your breath.
“Petition for Y/n L/n to win an Oscar for acting like she’s actually in love with Tom Holland.” Tom read, looking completely unamused.
“It’s not acting, but I would like an Oscar.” You poked Toms side but he was busy looking up at the ceiling with an annoyed expression. You gulped you picked up a tweet.
“I want Tom Holland to beat me with a sack of wet mice.” This got Tom laughing again, which made you relived. There were only a few left and you prayed they were tame.
“You know what Tom Holland has that I don’t have? Y/n L/n.” You began to read. “You know what I have that Tom Holland doesn’t have? Lips.”
You crumpled that one up too and gave a fake laugh.
“That one wasn’t even funny.” You said, mostly to Tom. His scowl was back on his face.
“I want to be baptized in Tom Holland’s sweat.” You tried to lighten the mood by reading one for him. He let a little air out and gave a small smile. You moved one of your legs to go over his and left it there. He wasn’t blind to what you were doing and rested his hand on your leg while taking a tweet.
“*pulls up to McDonalds window* can I get uhhhhhhh…Y/n L/n’s hand in marriage?” He read. He had to laugh at that one.
“Aw.” You looked up at the camera with a happy smile. “That’s actually wholesome. Thanks @babydollY/N.” You blew a kiss.
“That was the last one.” Tom looked inside the bucket and to his relief, didn’t see any more.
“Well that was us reading thirst tweets.” You said into the camera. “I feel like I need a shower. Or 12.”
“I feel like you need to block half the people who sent those in.” Tom half joked.
“Well, thank you so much Buzzfeed for having us.”
“And go see our movie, Spider-Man Far From Home.” Tom opened his arms out to the camera before wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders.
The camera man gave you the thumbs up, meaning he’d stopped filming. You and Tom went through the rest of your interviews for that day and didn’t get home until late. Luckily, you were doing press in London so you could stay at home and not a hotel. Tom was still acting a little off during the interviews. He kept his hand on your leg for all of them, and was a little more affectionate than usual. You were pretty sure he had kissed your cheek or lips in every single video you shot that day. Sure, that was the kind of stuff fans and shippers lived for, but Tom had never been one for PDA. When you finally got home, you asked him about his behavior.
“What’s up with you today? Is everything alright?” You asked him when you came out of the bathroom to find him lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling. You took a seat next to him as he sat up.
“I’m not gonna lie, those tweets made me kind of jealous.” Tom confessed. He insecurely toyed with your fingers and didn’t make eye contact.
“Why?” You asked him. You pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles, making him look at you.
“Because I feel like the whole world wants my girl.” He said sadly.
“But to your girl, you’re the whole world.” You assured him, cupping his face in your hands. He gave you a small smile at your corny words.
“You have a way with words, don’t you L/n?” He said, cheering up a little. “And thank you for what you did in the interview. I could tell you were trying to calm me down. I was just overwhelmed by all the people pinning for you. It made me afraid I was going to lose you.” Tom admitted. You shook you head and kissed him gently.
“Don’t worry, lover. You’re not gonna lose me to @fistmesteverogers or @babydollY/N. My heart is all yours.” You told him.
“It was @fistmetonystark.” Tom corrected, looking glum again. You couldn’t help but giggle at the stupid username.
“Whoever it was, it doesn’t matter. People can tweet me whatever they want. You’re the only one I have notifications on for, baby.” You said, trying to keep the conversation light to show Tom how he had nothing to worry about.
“Don’t you have notifications on for John Mulaney?” Tom asked, a smile finally poking through.
“Shhh.” You held a delicate finger to his lips and he laughed. “That’s not important. What’s important is I’m yours and you’re mine and no thirsty tweet could ever change that.”
“It’s not the tweets that are thirsty, it’s the people.” Tom reiterated.
“Well, let them be thirsty.” You declared, still in a joking manner. “The only thirst I’m ever gonna quench is yours.”
“Y/nnnn.” Tom whined and buried his face in your neck. You felt his hot breath on your collar bones. “I’m being serious. I don’t like people thinking about you that way. There are million of boys and girls out there who want to be run over with trucks or hit with a shovel just to be in the same room as you. How can I compete?” Tom asked, the bad feelings sinking in again.
“You can’t.” You shrugged, causing Tom to look at you quizzically. “Because there’s no competition.” You finished. Tom smiled a little as you used your pinky to tilt his face towards yours. “ Tommy, I love you. I’m never gonna love anybody else. So you can be jealous over those tweets but, it’s a waste of your time. Time that could be spent giving me love and affection.”
“You know I can’t resist love and affection.” Tom said with a happy smile. You’d finally pulled him out of his slump.
“Then stop thinking about those dumb tweets and kiss me.” You ordered.
Tom obeyed and pulled you in for a long and deep kiss. He held you close to him, even when you pulled away.
“Y/n?” Tom asked softly, sounding serious all of the sudden. You wonder if all the marriage talk in the video prompted him to ask you a certain question. You didn’t let your smile poke through and kept a calm look on your face.
“Yes?” You answered sweetly. Tom took your face in his hands and stared you deeply in your eyes. You peered back at his gentle brown eyes with all the love in the world. Tom took a deep breath, looked at the floor, and then at you.
“I want you to use my face as a trampoline.” He said finally, quoting the tweet from earlier. You smacked his hands off your face and punched him (with love) in the arm.
“You’re impossible.” You grumbled, feeling like an idiot for getting your hopes up. He, on the other hand, was dying with laughter.
“I am not impossible. I was in a movie called The Impossible, so that may be where you’re getting confused.” He teased. You’d had enough of his humor and got off the bed to walk away. “Come back! I need you to foreclose on my house.”
“Leave me alone, pervert.” You laughed, pushing him away as he tried to pull you back.
“Please? I just want you to flood my basement.” Tom continued to quote the tweets and pulled you into a hug, resting his chin on top of your head. Normally it’d be a sweet gesture, but he was pushing your buttons.
“No thanks.” You answered, giving in to the hug.
“Is it because I don’t have lips?” Tom asked. You groaned loudly and pulled yourself out of his embrace before he could see you smiling.
“I think I just heard a ribbit coming from your mouth.” You called as you walked away.
“Don’t go.” He grabbed your hands and pulled you back towards him. “I just want to know how your lips feel.”
“Two can play this game,” you lowered your voice to a grave tone, “daddy thiccums.”
“Okay.” Tom held up his hands in surrender. “I’ll stop. Just please, never say those words again.”
“I won’t.” You promised. You crossed your heart with your fingers. “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’re a baddie with a fatty.”
“If you keep that up, Holland won’t put a ring on it.” Tom wagged his finger at you, giving in to the joke that made him upset earlier in the day.
“Well I simply can’t have that.” You said in a much calmer tone as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Tom rested his thick arms around your waist and held you flushed against him, pulling a little gasp from your throat.
“I can’t have that either.” Tom said lowly, a gleam of adoration in his tired brown eyes. “Can we just put today behind us and go to sleep?”
Tom picked you up bridal style before you could give him and answer. He placed you gently on the bed, both of you already having brushed your teeth, and climbed in next to you.
“Goodnight, lover of mine.” Tom yawned. He pressed a kiss to your lips before flopping onto his pillow.
“Goodnight...” You said mischievously.
“Don’t say it.” Tom warned in a tired voice.
You were instantly hit with a pillow.
“I told you not to say it.” Tom said, unable to hide his laughter.
“You’re right.” You said sincerely. “I’m sorry.”
You cuddled into Toms side and laid your head on his heartbeat. He rubbed lazy circles into your back and leaned his chin into your hair.
“But @chokemeharry2011 would never treat me this way.” You said quickly.
And thus, you were hit with another pillow.
