Imagines//Tom Holland\Peter Parker//Short Storys

Friends (&) Benefits

pairing: tom holland x fem!reader, uni AU

warnings: swearing, pure smut (18+ minors pls DNI! explicit warnings under the cut), mentions of bad past relationships, beginning of a panic attack.

"This was a bad idea,"

"You can't spend your entire finals week actually studying for finals," your best friend tells you as you walk up the path to the frat house, which looks like it's shaking from the thrumming beat.

"You only asked me to come because Nate will be there and you don't want it to seem like you came by yourself just to have sex, even though that's exactly why we're here,"

"Knew you'd understand," your friend tells you with a sweet smile, and your shake your head with a grudging smile.

"You're lucky I'm a good friend,"

"The best," she says with a laugh, slinging an arm over your shoulders as you get to the door. It's pen, and there are people standing around the doorway, having a smoke and talking to each other, except for one guy who's just sat looking like the sky is the most fascinating thing since sliced bread.

"Hey, Travis," you say, and the guy turns his head, staring right through you for a second, before they focus on you. A dopey smile spreads over his face.

"If it isn't my favorite genius!" he says, and his speech is slow as his hand does a lazy wave, "What's a good girl like you doing at a party like this?"

"Gotta take a break some days," you say with a shrug, and he chuckles.

"Aighht, makes sense," he says, "You be careful in there, 'lil G,"  

"I will," you say with a chuckle, "You be careful out here, get responsibly stoned. . . don't fall into the pool like last time,"

His face clouds over a bit as he shakes his head. "That was not fun,"

"See you around, Travis," you tell him as your best friend gives you an impatient look, foot halfway through the front door.

"See ya, Y/N,"

The house is packed. You take your friend's hand as you make your way through the throng of people, some dancing, some kissing, other singing. The music is so loud you can't hear anything else, and the beat thrums through the entire house, coming up through the floorboard to make your bones rattle. You've been in this house only a few times before, and you notice they've replaced the chandelier that used to hang from the entrance's ceiling. Probably for the best, given the last party you were at here, someone tried to swing from it.

"God, I hope Oliver isn't here," you say somberly, and your friend grimaces.

"Not going to lie, he might be," she says, and your eyes widen, "I thought Gia mentioned she'd invited the team," 

"Dude! Not cool," you groan, "What if I run into him?"

"Then you greet him with a nice beer over the head for cheating on you," your friend says gleefully, and you make a face at her. 

When you finally make it into a less crowded area of the house, your friend, whose eyes have been scanning the crowd since you came in, throws her hand up at someone across the room.

"Do you mind if I. . .?" she ask you, looking guilty, and you wave her off.

"We came here to get you dicked down, so go forth and get dicked down," you tell her.

"You're a fucking G, girl," she says, pressing a loud smooch to your cheek, before dissapearing into the crowd.

"Use protection!" you yell after her, before sighing and battling your way to the kitchen.