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somewannabez-lister · 1 year

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this might be my favorite concept of tom that i have ever read. it is SO CUTE <3

attraction needs no translation

Uni!Tom x ESL!reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: moving to London to attend university was difficult, but the language barrier was proving to be more difficult. All seemed bleak until your cute RA made your experience a million times better

Warnings: insecurity with speaking English (yet reader has good conversational skills), reader understands (and prefers) American English rather than British English sorry not sorry

Everyone can agree that English is a shitshow of a language to learn. Many, if not most, of the words were not pronounced the way they’re written; and don’t even get me started on all of the irregularities.

Your journey learning the English language was rocky, but you knew that the hard work would pay off one day, so that you could travel and watch shows without translations—even if the language looked and sounded like it was created from smashing the keys on a computer keyboard. Yet, English, for all its weirdness, could be fascinating.

Eventually, you would say that you were confident in your abilities to speak and understand English—that is, until you arrived in London to attend university.

“Would you like me to put your luggage in the boot?” Your taxi driver asked you as you walked up to the car. The syllables strung together in a very rapid sentence, and it was hard to distinguish what he actually asked you.

“I’m sorry, could you repeat that slower?” You asked politely, your voice soft.

“Your luggage, in the boot?” He did speak a bit slower, but it still didn’t make much sense to you.

You looked at the car quizzically. There were no feet on the car, so why would it need boots? Maybe English isn’t his first language either.

The driver looked at you annoyed before opening the back of the car. “Would you like your luggage back here?” He repeated the sentence so slowly that you felt as though he was making fun of you.

“Oh!” You exclaimed, “yes, please. Thank you for repeating it slower.”

The man placed your luggage in the trunk, no wait, the boot of the car, rolling his eyes as he did so. It made for a less-than-ideal car ride to the university, but it was only a small bump in the road, you figured.

The taxi driver dropped you off on campus. On the flight here, you studied the map of the university so you wouldn’t be lost. However, it was getting dark out, which made it more difficult to point out the landmarks that you had memorized. People whizzed past you on their bikes, couples sauntered close to the walking trail, whereas you were standing in the middle of the sidewalk in your sweats and oversized sweatshirt, confused.

A girl with headphones began to walk past you. “Excuse me,” your voice came out timid. The girl didn’t hear you and continued to walk past you. Another student began to walk past, too engrossed in their own world to look up from their phone. Finally, what looked like a Professor rushed past you. He would definitely know where your student apartment would be located.

“Excuse me, where are the student apartments at?” The professor stopped in his tracks.

“Which ones are you asking about?” He, too, spoke with his words spaced so close together, it was hard to tell where one word started and where one word stopped. You had to pause to think about what he asked you, but you didn’t want to repeat yourself. Instead, you answered the question you think he asked you.

“Um, the Dover ones?”

“Oh,” the guy exhaled, “you’re on the wrong campus. Those flats are near the Guy’s campus, and right now we’re in Waterloo campus.”

You remembered seeing those locations on the map. It seemed close, or at least it did on paper. “Is it far to get there?” You inquired.

“I wouldn’t walk there if I were you. It would be wise to take the tube or a bus, especially with your luggage.”

What in the world is a tube? And why would you ride on it?

“Is the bus stop nearby, or?” You trailed off. He would’ve looked at you funny if you asked him what the tube was, so you decided against doing so.

“It’s just right over there.” The man pointed off in the distance. You had to squint to see what he was looking at, but it did look like there was a bus stop nearby. “There’s also a student shuttle that’ll take you to the flat, it’s probably a safer bet.” He looked down at his watch before looking back at you. “I have a night class to teach, but good luck getting to your flat.”

I’m guessing a shuttle must be another word for a bus. “Thank you!” You called out to him, watching as he sped off. The bus stop was a few minutes away, but it felt longer than it was, due to dragging your luggage behind you. By the time you made it to the stop, a small bus arrived. On the side read “student shuttle”, and when it stopped, the doors flung open. You walked up to the driver, who looked less than thrilled to see you.

“Would this, um, shuttle take me to the Dover apartments?” You asked politely as the bus driver nodded.

“Only if you have your student card.”

“Oh,” you replied, “let me grab it.” The card was stuffed away in your luggage, but you knew you had it. The bus driver looked annoyed as you rummaged around, even huffing when it took a minute.

“Found it.” You stated as you held it up to the driver. He sighed and motioned for you to take a seat. When you were about to sit down, he began to drive, which made you stumble into the seat.

Maybe going to uni here wasn’t the best idea…

15 minutes later, the driver pulled up to the student apartment. “Have a nice night.” He stated with no enthusiasm.

“You too.”

He drove off in a hurry, the fumes making you cough. When you craned your neck to look at the building, you noticed that it looked cute. There were a lot of students walking in and out of the apartment, even though it was late.

Someone held open the door for you while you dragged your luggage in, and even offered to help you carry it to your room.

“I’ve got it, thank you.” You smiled, “I need to check in at the reception.”

The student pointed towards the desk, and walked away. The receptionist was on the phone when you walked up to the desk, but when she was done with her call, she glanced at you.

“You must be new,” she stated while looking at your luggage, “are you here to check into your room that you let?”

Let? Does she mean “rent?” Maybe she did say that, but it could be muddled due to her accent, or it could be the fact that I’m jet lagged and heard her wrong.

“Huh?” You paused, “I’m here to check into my apartment that I rented online.” When you replied, the receptionist looked at you funny.

“We don’t call it an apartment here.” She rolled her eyes, “we call it a flat. And we ‘let’ out the flat, not rent’”. Her tone was exasperated, but you had no idea why. “You’re not in America anymore.”

Way to assume I’m from America, you thought to yourself.

The lady handed you the key to your ‘flat’, before pointing to the stairwell. “Right now, we are on the ground floor, not the first floor like you Americans call it. You’re on the fourth floor, which means you need to go up 4 flights of stairs, and not just 3.” That was probably the only thing she’s said that has made some sense. “You have no idea how many Americans get mixed up and complain that their keys don’t work, so don’t be one of them.” You didn’t have the heart to correct her, so you just nodded. She went back to her desk and waved at you. You waved back, stared at the stairs, and began lugging your bags up four flights of stairs.

The door to your flat was difficult to open, but when you got it open, you trudged through the door. The flat was small, cold, and the walls were painted an oddly vibrant yellow colour, but it was yours.

—

A knock at the door woke you up from your jet lagged sleep. The soft rays of light shone through the thin curtains, casting its light over you, who was sprawled out on the couch. It’s funny, you didn’t even notice you fell asleep last night.

The knocks escalated, so you shuffled faster to the door. Your hair was probably a tangled mess, and your clothes wrinkled, but you proceeded to answer the knock anyway. As you opened it, a boy with chocolate coloured curls smiled at you. When your eyes met, blush creeped onto his cheeks.

“Oh, hi.” His voice was soft, and his accent sounded nice. Not thick like the other accents you’ve heard since arriving.

“Hi,” you replied with a soft smile.

His gaze turned to the ground, his face still pink. “I heard you were a new student, so I wanted to introduce myself. I’m Tom, the RA for this floor.”

You gave him a polite smile when you introduced yourself. When Tom heard your name, he commented on how pretty it was.

“Thank you,” you smiled, gaze meeting Tom’s. When your eyes met, he looked away hurriedly.

“If there’s anything you need, I’m just down the hall.” He pointed to a room about 4 doors down— it would be hard to miss, since his door had decorations adorning it. “I look forward to seeing you around.”

“Yes,” was your response as you slowly closed the door. When you latched it, you let out a squeal. He was seriously the best looking guy you’ve seen in your whole life, with his chocolate coloured curls, his perfect jawline, and his beautiful smile.

You could get used to seeing him around.

—

The first day of classes were exhausting in more ways than one. The material went over your head, but most importantly, the professors' accents were so strong, you could hardly understand what any of them were saying.

Attending classes made you feel as though you were underwater, their voices jumbled, the words almost unintelligible.

Dejected, you dragged yourself to your last class of the day, Elizabethan Literature. When you opened the heavy door to the lecture hall, an American accent filled the room.

“Alright class, welcome to Elizabethan Literature. My name is Professor Johnson, and yes, this is really the way I talk.” She chuckled at her own joke, her eyes crinkling as she laughed. “I am from New York, so I have already heard every joke—and bad rendition—of my accent, so please don’t embarrass yourself by trying to mimic my speech.”

Her joking response brought the class to laughter. She seems really nice so far, this might just be my favorite class. Plus, her accent is clear.

“Please open to the first page of King Lear. We’re starting off strong here with a ‘lesser known’ classic from the Bard himself.”

The room became filled with the shuffling of books being opened, the paper creasing with movement. “I’ll begin reading, but feel free to pick up where I leave off.”

The entirety of the lecture was filled with conversation, and general confusion, over what was being read.

“I can hardly understand what any of this means.” Your classmate uttered under his breath, “I might just drop out.”

Me too, you thought. The language is far too complicated for me. I’ll fail the class for sure.

After class, you went up to your professor at her desk. She smiled as she began to put away her laptop.

“Hi professor, I just have a quick question.” Your heart was pounding as you anticipated what her response might be. “I’m thinking of dropping this course, but I wanted to let you know first.”

Professor Johnson gave you a confused look, but before she could answer, you continued speaking, “English is not my first language, and the reading material is hard for me to understand.” Your fingers were shaking, so you placed them in your pockets.

“Trust me, Shakespeare is too complicated for everyone, native English speaker or not.” She laughed, “and I’m speaking from experience. Can you believe Shakespearean English is considered modern?” She paused, glancing at you, giving you a soft smile. “But I completely understand if you’d like to drop my course.”

She was so nice, and understanding. “Maybe I’ll give it a chance after all. It made me feel better to hear that you struggled with it too.” You tapped the edge of the desk with your shoe. “I’m new to the country, and it’s been hard to understand what everyone is saying.”

Professor Johnson laughed heartily, “the British accent is hard to understand, but once you get used to it, it’s not so bad.” She gave you an encouraging smile, her eyes crinkling at the corners, “if you ever come across words you don’t understand, either ask me after class or please email me and I’ll do my best to explain it.”

You nodded politely, “thank you professor. I’ll see you next class.” Turning on your heels, you waved goodbye before leaving the lecture hall.

The walk back to your flat was calming. It was a warm august day, the birds were chirping, the sun beaming down. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

Before you knew it, you had been in school for almost a month. As you got into the rhythm of your classes, it seemed as though everything became easier. The language barrier was becoming smaller, but there were still times where you felt like you were back at square one—progress isn’t always linear, after all.

The weather was shifting towards autumnal temperatures, the crisp air making everyone’s cheeks tinged pink. On your way back to your flat after your literature class, you heard music coming from down the hall. When you peeked around, you noticed it was coming from Tom’s room. You hadn’t seen him since he introduced himself, so you walked over to his door and knocked softly.

“Come in.” He called out over the music. The smell of chocolate chip cookies lingered in the air, the heat from the oven warming the room.

“Hi,” you said. When Tom heard your voice, he dropped an egg shell into the batter.

“Hi,” he choked while he picked the egg shell out, “it’s nice to see you.” He dried his hand on a tea towel. “How have classes been? Are they going well?”

Leaning against the counter, you sighed softly. “Yeah, it’s getting better. At first it was hard because I hardly understood anyone, but it’s not so bad anymore.”

Tom titled his head to the right, giving you a confused look. “If you don’t mind me asking, why was it hard to understand people?”

“Oh,” you breathed, “English is not my first language.”

Tom took a step back in disbelief as he audibly gasped. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I would’ve never guessed,” his eyes were still wide with disbelief, “your English is better than mine, and I’m a native speaker.”

Now it was your turn to be in disbelief. “Seriously? Is it that good?”

Tom nodded profusely.

“But I must have an accent, and half the time I cannot think of the right words to say.”

“Trust me,” Tom took a step closer to you, “your English is excellent, and it’s better than you realise. It must not be easy to be in a place where they don’t speak the same language you grew up speaking, but you’re killing it.” Tom rested his right hand on the counter, almost exactly mirroring your stance. “I’m incredibly proud of you.”

His words of encouragement were about to bring tears to your eyes. Here it seemed like you were drowning in a foreign language while being immersed in a foreign culture, but here he was being kind. You knew there was sincerity behind what he was saying. “Thank you Tom, I needed to hear that.”

“And I’ll be here to tell you that anytime you need to.” After that sentence, there was a shift in the air. Tom smiled again before turning back to the batter. “I’ve gotta make like a million biscuits for a bake sale tomorrow, so would you like to help me?” His eyes twinkled as he asked for your help, and you nodded your head yes. He squealed cutely at your response, causing you to laugh.

“On one condition,” you held up a finger, “you let me eat a cookie right now.”

“Deal.” He answered confidently. He watched as you lingered over the cookies that were spread out to cool, choosing one that was soft with plenty of chocolate chunks.

When you bit into the cookie, your mouth upturned into a smile. Your eyes crinkled, and Tom clapped when he saw your reaction.

“I don’t even need to ask if you like it.” He replied confidently, “it’s my mum’s recipe. It’s been in the family forever.”

“Please tell her I love them.” You replied happily, “I’m gonna need to eat like 15 more of them right now.” You reached out for another cookie, but Tom playfully slapped your hand away.

“You can have another one after you help me, you know, like you said you would.” His voice was teasing, playful, maybe even flirty.

“Maybe I’ll sit here and eat the cookies, seems like you’ve got it under control.” You smirked playfully as you quickly snatched another cookie off of the baking sheet.

“Hey!” Tom exclaimed, “I’m gonna revoke your title of beginning apprentice!”

You had learned the word ‘apprentice’ from tv, so you didn’t need to ask him for a translation. “Never!” You gasped dramatically. Tom tilted his head back as he laughed, his laughter lighting up the room. It was a sound you could get used to hearing.

“Alright then, hand me the flour.” He instructed.

It was easy to get in a rhythm while you helped Tom bake. He had a habit of sticking his tongue out while he concentrated, and it took everything in you to not laugh at how cute he looked. He also managed to get some flour dusted onto his chiseled cheek. It was tempting to reach over and wipe it away with your thumb, but you decided against it.

“So,” Tom broke the silence, “may I ask what your native language is?” The way he asked the question, with such carefulness, made heat rise to your already warm cheeks. As you told him, his face lit up.

“That’s so cool!” He exclaimed, “can you please teach me something?”

“That depends, what would you like to learn?”

“Could you point to all of the ingredients and say them?”

You chuckled, “of course.” Pointing at the various items, you slowly and concisely stated what each item was called. Tom intently watched you, even mimicking what you said. Sometimes he got the pronunciation correct, and other times he was way off, but it was so cute to hear him try.

“I think the way you said the eggs was funny.” He commented.

“Well I think the word ‘egg’ is funny. What’s even funnier is that people describe their heads that way. When I first learned that, I couldn’t stop laughing.” The memory brought a laughter that escaped your mouth.

“It must be so fun to learn all the silly little things in a new language.” Tom commented as he shifted his weight to his right leg. He was leaning over the bowl of mixed ingredients. “Could you teach me a funny phrase?”

It took a second to think of one, but when you told Tom one of your favourite ones, and what it meant, he guffawed. “I love it, I’m gonna use it all the time.”

Hearing Tom say that made your cheeks burn. You touched your face softly, “I can’t wait to teach you more things.”

“And I can’t wait to learn.”

—

A few hours later, both you and Tom were sprawled out on the touch. You felt as though you did an intense workout with the way your arms and shoulders felt. Tom groaned as he shifted in his seat. “I swear I never want to see another biscuit as long as I live.”

“Me either.” You remarked flatly.

“I’m kinda thirsty,” Tom thought aloud, “would you like some hot chocolate?”

“Yes please.” You grinned as you watched Tom walk over to the stove. He poured milk into a saucepan, turned on the heat, and began to stir the milk. Through his shirt, you could see his back muscles move as he stirred slowly. It was hard to look away, but friends don’t stare at the other longingly. Minutes passed quickly, and before you knew it, the drink was ready.

“Would you like some squirty cream on it?” Tom asked as he walked over to the fridge.

“Would I like what?” You answered shockingly, “Tom, I think that’s a bit suggestive.”

Tom snapped his head to the right, his eyes bugged out. “What did I do?”

“You asked if I wanted something squirted onto the chocolate!” It was uncontrolled laughter on your end as you kicked your feet. “That’s the grossest thing I’ve heard!”

“How so?” Tom’s face was beet red, and his demeanour flustered. Once he realised what he said, he let out an awkward giggle. “Oh! I see how that can sound weird. Squirty cream is what we Brits call whipped cream.”

“You’ve gotta be joking.”

“I’m not.” He held the can in his hand, holding it out so it’s pointing towards you. “Come read the label for yourself.”

You padded over to where Tom was standing. He held the can up for you to read—the ‘squirty cream’ was clearly written on the label. “I don’t like that term.”

“I can’t blame you,” he nodded, “it does sound bizarre and borderline gross.” Tom held the nozzle to the mugs and watched as the cream filled the brim of the mug. “Do you mind if I ask you a question?”

“Go for it.” You replied as you reached around Tom to grab your mug. The warmth brought comfort to you.

“How did you learn English?”

Before answering, you took a drink of the cocoa. “Through classes, and by watching a lot of American television.”

“Ah, I hope that wasn’t a rude question.”

“Not at all.” You quickly replied.

“Did English come easy to you?” Tom’s voice was soft, “and have you studied for a long time?”

Taking another drink of your hot chocolate, you paused before answering. “For the first question, no.” You shook your head as you remembered your journey with learning the language. “Instead of playing with my friends at recess, my teacher made me stay inside to work on my English homework. I used to sit there and cry because it was so hard, and my teachers were mean about it.” The humiliating memory made your eyes well up with tears. Blinking them away, you continued, “my teacher would ask me why I couldn’t do it, but I didn’t know why. They made me feel dumb, and it made me almost hate English.”

“They shouldn’t have treated you that way.” Tom added sympathetically, “you were trying as hard as you could, so they shouldn’t have been so mean.”

Gosh, he’s so caring.

“We also used to have these, um, exams, where we would have to write out a conversation in English, memorise it, and say it in front of everyone in the class.”

When you paused, Tom spoke up. “That sounds like my worst nightmare, but it would make sense why your conversation skills are so good.”

“You really think so?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.”

His response made your heart soar. “It was way more fun to watch American tv shows, such as Friends, and to listen to music, to learn new words.”

“Oh, I bet. Textbook learning is no fun.” He smiled before taking a sip of his cocoa. “You know,” Tom clicked his tongue, “I’m really glad you still decided to learn English, even though it was hard. I don’t want to imagine not being able to talk to you at all.”

Heat bloomed in your cheeks, “I’m glad I learned English too, because I like talking to you.” When you looked at Tom, you noticed his cheeks were pink.

“I like talking to you too.” He drank from his cup, took a moment, and continued speaking. “It now makes sense why you say some words in an American accent, because you learned them that way.”

“Wait, really?” You met Tom’s soft gaze.

“Yeah.”

“That makes sense.” You replied, “I had such a hard time when I came here. I thought English was the same everywhere, but after coming here, I realised that the vocabulary was different.” You set your now empty cup down gently on the counter, and Tom did the same.

At your response, Tom smiled sympathetically. “Americans have weird words for things.”

“Not true.” You refuted, “their words make more sense. I feel like I’m not even speaking the same language as you guys.”

Your comment made Tom laugh in disbelief.

“I’m serious! And don’t get me started on some of the accents I’ve heard here…” you trailed off.

Tom gasped dramatically. “Be careful what you say about our accents!”

“Some of them are so thick that I feel like I need subtitles to understand what they’re saying.” Both you and Tom laughed simultaneously at your comments.

“I will actually give you that one, some people have accents that even I can hardly understand.”

“See!” You playfully poked Tom in the chest. “It’s not just me.”

Tom looked down at your pointer finger where it touched his chest. His face turned pink at the innocent touch. “You’re right, except for the vocabulary thing. I will disagree with you on that until the day I die.”

“Wow.” You exhaled. “It’s like the expression I heard once, about them dying on a mountain, I think.”

“You mean, ‘die on that hill’.” Tom politely corrected as he took a step closer to you. “It means to never stop defending your statement.”

“Exactly, thank you for telling me what it was.”

“Anytime.” Tom brushed his fingers along his forehead to move a loose curl that had landed near his eye. “Hey,” he added, “do you find my accent hard to understand?”

You shook your head no. “Your accent is very easy to understand.”

“What about my speech…am I speaking too fast for you?” Tom glanced down at the bowl of batter on the counter. “I don’t want you to feel like you can’t understand me, you know?” He paused, “but I don’t want to make you feel like a kid who can’t understand what I’m saying. Am I making sense?”

It was heartwarming to see Tom being so considerate of you, and your speaking abilities. In fact, his kindness made your heart skip a beat. “You speak at just the right pace, not too fast or too slow.”

“So just right?” He glanced back at you, making eye contact. His eyes were soft, yet you knew he needed reassurance.

“Yes, just right.”

The space between you and Tom had gotten smaller than you realised. He was so close that you could smell his cologne, and you were so close that he could smell the chocolate from the cookies you ate. “So,” Tom spoke in a hushed tone, “thank you for popping by to help me make biscuits, or as you say, cookies.”

“Anytime,” you whispered back, “I enjoyed myself.”

“Me too.” He replied. You glanced at his soft pink lips as he glanced at yours. His gaze flicked upwards to meet yours, to which you smiled up at him. “I, um, was wondering if… you would—”

A knock at the door caused the both of you to flinch.

“Oi!” A guy shouted while he knocked again on the door. “I finished making the brownies you asked for, have you finished the biscuits?”

“Shit.” Tom muttered under his voice. You watched as he sauntered over to the guy who interrupted you both. “Yeah, I finished them. Give me like a minute.”

“Why?” The guy peeked his head in. When he saw you, he whooped and hollered. “Damn Holland, you have a girl over?”

Tom groaned in response. “You can see her too?” He faked a gasp as he began to close the door on the guy, “now if you’ll excuse me, I was in the middle of something.”

“But I wanna—” Tom shut the door on the guy and locked it swiftly behind him. He leaned against the door, his eyes rolling in response.

“I can hardly stand him, but he’s the other RA on this floor, so I have to collaborate with him quite a bit.”

“I see.” You quietly responded. It makes sense why Tom can’t stand him—neither could you, and you barely met the guy. The atmosphere in the room that had once felt warm now felt awkward. You felt as though you had probably overstayed your welcome.

Tom took a few steps towards you. Once he was standing a foot apart, he rubbed the nape of his neck awkwardly. He opened his mouth to talk, but you beat him to it.

“Thank you for letting me spend time with you.”

“Of course.” He meekly responded.

“I’ll get going now.” As you brushed past Tom, you could smell his cologne, the scent irresistible.

“Sure, yeah.” It took every ounce of restraint to not reach out to grab your arm, hoping that you’d stay longer. His hand twitched at the thought, so he stuffed it into his back pocket. “I appreciated the help.”

You hummed in response. “If you ever need help again, or would like more language lessons, you know where to find me.” You raised your arm towards the general direction of your flat.

Tom’s face lit up at the invitation, “and you know where to find me.” He placed his hand on the door handle while you stood in the hallway. “The bake sale is tomorrow at 3pm in the student union, if you’d like to come by and you know, actually pay for the cookies you ate along the way.” His intonation was playful, and he clicked his tongue after he finished speaking.

“Maybe I will, maybe I won’t.” You winked while shrugging your shoulders.

“I want you to.” Tom blurted out, his voice laced with hope, desperation even.

His response made your heart pound as your stomach filled with butterflies. You leaned against the wall in an attempt to not fall from being weak in the knees. “I’ll definitely be there, so save me a chocolate chip cookie.”

a/n; learning and being immersed in an entirely different language than the one you grow up speaking has so many challenges, but can also be so rewarding when you find yourself being able to communicate with others and enjoy films/music from that culture. I know everyone has a different journey, and different experiences, when it comes to learning a language, so I tried to use as many personal experiences—as well as my friend’s experiences—to write this piece. I chose to use American English as the standard that the reader understood because American culture really is everywhere. I didn’t want it to be clichéd, but I also wanted it to be as authentic as possible, so I really hope you not only enjoyed it but resonated with it :)

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somewannabez-lister · 1 year

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Hiding the Truth

Summary: Y/N was dating Tom Holland until all of the hate comments starting causing a drift which led to their very public break up. Soon after their break up Y/N started writing music, thinking of it as an outlet. She released her music faceless as ‘Ella Raine’ not wanting people to judge her based on her relationship with Tom. What she didn’t expect was for her music to connect to people all over the world. After working on herself over the next two years she is finally ready to reveal her face to the world, but what will happen when she gets an unexpected text from Tom?

Pairing: Tom Holland x Female Reader (famous!reader)

Warnings: References to Lexi Jayde’s ‘closer to closure’ album (does this count as a warning?), slight angst- not really though, fluffy ending

Word count: 2.2k

“Welcome back from the break everyone!” you heard Jimmy Fallon say through your macbook before he announces the next guest. “Tonight we have a very special guest, who just released her debut album ‘closer to closure’, please welcome Ella Raine through zoom!” Jimmy had finally announced you as the next guest as you were laying in bed waiting to say hello.

“Hey Jimmy! Thanks so much for having me on the show.” Being a popular singer, but having nobody know the face behind the music definitely has its perks. For example, you are easily being able to have a meeting with Jimmy Fallon while in you pajamas while laying in bed.

“Ella it is so wonderful having you on the show! Even though we aren’t able to see the face behind all of our favorite songs, we are so grateful that you were willing to be on the show virtually tonight.” Jimmy was being extremely kind and thoughtful of your wishes not to show your face until you were ready. “Thank you Jimmy, that honestly means so much more than you could ever know.” “Yes of course! Well you have obviously accomplished so much in the two years that you have been creating music for us and you have gained so many fans over such little time. How has that process really been for you?”

You thought about this question and what the best way to answer it would be. “It has been quite overwhelming to be honest. When I started releasing my music I was very insecure because people made me feel like I wasn’t good enough, but over these last two years I have been really working on myself and my confidence and I feel the best I have ever felt in my life and it is all from the support of my fans.” You had never been so vulnerable with anyone other than close friends and family so this was a really big step for you.

“Thank you so much for sharing that Ella. We all appreciate you opening up. As you have revealed on your Instagram, you are revealing your face after two years behind closed doors. What helped you decide that it was time to take this huge step in your career?” This was a big question and you were going to be very honest with all of your fans because you think it is time that you share bigger details about your personal life. “I used to be in the eyes of the media a lot believe it or not. I used to date someone that is in the public eye pretty much everyday. I started getting a lot of hate from his fans saying I was “too skinny” or that “I wasn’t good enough for him”. That obviously didn’t make me feel good about myself. Over these two years I have learned that you shouldn’t care what other people think about you because they aren’t even major players in your game. If they don’t make you happy, then what is the point of wasting any time and energy on them. I have truly found my confidence and so I am completely ready to show my face to the world.”

“Wow, that is incredible. You have just revealed that people already know what you look like, but they haven’t put your face to you name.” “Yes, although I have been using a fake name for all of my music so that people wouldn’t judge me off of who they think I am. I also look very different than I did two years ago from working out, to experimenting with different hairstyles. I feel a lot better about myself now though. I really don’t think anybody will be able to tell who I am once I show my face unless I tell everyone my actual name.”

“You are really giving us a lot of information right now and I don’t know how much more I can take!” Everyone began laughing. “Yes, well I am done sharing my personal details until I do my face reveal which will be happening on Friday!”

This news shocked everyone. You had told everyone that you would be face revealing sometime within the next week, but nobody knew that it was on Friday. “That is two days from now!” You laughed at Jimmy’s exclamation. “Yes, but I really can’t put it off any longer! Until then though, you guys can stream my album ‘closer to closure’ on all streaming platforms!”

“Wow, well thank you so much for coming on the show Ella. Ella Raine everybody!” After saying your goodbyes, you shut you macbook and checked the time. It was almost 10 pm so you decided to get a snack and get ready for bed.

Just as you were about to get up, you got a text message from your ex boyfriend. You haven’t talked to him in over two years, since the break up. You were extremely confused as to why he would be texting you this late on a Wednesday after not speaking for over two years.

Tom

Hey, I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I was listening to Ella Raine today and this song reminded me of you. Song: Drunk Text Me

This was the last thing you expected from Tom. He just sent you a song that you wrote about him, but he didn’t know that. Suddenly, your snack seemed significantly irrelevant. You decided that you wanted to respond, but you didn’t know what to say. You obviously missed Tom. He wasn’t the reason your relationship crashed and burned. Should you just tell him the truth? “Hey Tom, yea that song reminds me of you too- oh why? Because I wrote it! About you! Isn’t that just so hilarious! Like the Charlie Puth song! hahaha”

Yea no- you couldn’t tell him. You will just respond as if you’ve never heard the song before! Yea, that’s it!

Y/N

Hey Tom, it has been a while since we’ve talked. I’ve never heard of that song or artist before, but I will be sure to listen to the song. :)

Oh no, was the smiley face to much? Should you have sent that? Are you freaking out over nothing? Probably- right?

Tom

...

He’s typing again? He wants to have a conversation? Does that mean he misses me? That’s great!- well now super great, but good, yea good.

I can’t believe you haven’t heard of her. She’s as big as Taylor Swift now!

Wait- that’s not why i’m texting you. I’m texting you because I wanted to know if we could meet up sometime soon.

Did he really just ask you to hang out?

Only because I want that one hoodie that you kept of mine of course!

You knew it was too good to be true.

Y/N

Yea, of course you can have your hoodie back. Do you want to come over and get it tomorrow? I still live in the same apartment.

You. Just. Invited. Your. Ex. Over. What were you thinking?! You obviously weren’t.

Tom

Yea! That sounds great. See you then. :)

Okay Tom was coming to your apartment tomorrow. What’s the worst that could- oh. Oh no. He doesn’t know that you changed your look. You wanted a clean slate and now your ex boyfriend was going to know that Y/N L/N is Ella Raine after Friday.

What did you do Y/N?

------------------------

It was now Thursday afternoon and you were waiting for Tom to show up at your apartment. You had no idea what was about to happen, but you had to prepare yourself for every scenario possible.

Before you got to practice even one scenario, he was here. Yippee! No time to study. Just like a pop quiz!

You opened your door to let Tom in. He was facing the other way so all you saw was the back of his head. Once he heard the door open, he swung around quickly and saw your face.

“Y/N? Is that you?”

You were surprised that even Tom barely recognized you.

“In the flesh.” Tom just continued staring at you in astonishment. He didn’t know how to react with you standing in front of him. You had definitely changed since he’d seen you last and for the better. Tom thought you were stunning before and he did not think you could look better, but you proved him wrong.

“uh- Tom?” He was suddenly knocked out of his stunned state.

“Oh- yes, uhm sorry. Hi.” he stated shyly.

“Hi”, you said with a slight smile. “Uhm come on in!”

“Yea, thanks.” You both walked into your kitchen where Tom’s hoodie was sitting on the counter. You both stood there in awkward silence not knowing what to say or do.

“So, uh- here is your hoodie back. Sorry for keeping it for so long. I didn’t know you wanted it back since you gave it to me.”

“No, Y/N. I’m sorry, I don’t really want the hoodie back. I texted you because I miss you and I haven’t been able to move on since we’ve broken up. I simply can’t get over you. I keep going on all of these dates, but they never work out because I always compare all of those girls to you. You have set the bar so high in my mind that there is literally nobody that could be my girlfriend better than you could. I know that with our relationship being so public and all of my fans attacking you for being with me it was really difficult, but I think we can make it work this time.”

You were honestly speechless. You obviously wanted to get back together with him, but with you being Ella Raine and him not knowing that made things a lot more difficult. Your face reveal was tomorrow, so if you just told him who you were now and got back together, everyone would just think that Ella Raine and Tom Holland were dating right? Nobody would draw the connection between Y/N L/N and Ella Raine- right?

“Sorry, I know this is a lot and I shouldn’t have just word vomitted all of me feelings up right now, but I really just needed to tell you.”

“I have something going on right now that is making us get back together really difficult right now.”

“Uhm okay well what is it? Maybe we could work around it.”

You really didn’t want to confuse things with him right now. You really want to get back together, but he needs to know the truth before you do that.

“Do you think you could come back tomorrow at 4?”

Tom looked as if he was thinking very hard.

“Well Ella Raine is doing her face reveal at 3 and I don’t know how long that is going to take-” he murmurs to himself under his breath. “I think so- I will try my best.” He softly smiles at me.

-------------------------------------

It was finally Friday. The day of the reveal. You were very excited, overwhelmed, and worried all at the same time. What would Tom think once he knows that you are Ella Raine?

You’re doing a live stream at 3 to do your face reveal, so that left you just under 2 hours to get ready. So, you headed to the bathroom to get your hair, makeup, and outfit done.

It was 10 ‘till 3 and you were setting everything up. You had no idea how many people were going to join this stream, or if it was even going to work.

It was now time to start and everything was in place, so you were just going to go for it.

*ellaraine has started a live stream*

Your face was now officially out there for the world to see. “Hey everyone! Welcome into my first livestream as a non-faceless singer.” You giggled.

Comments instantly started flooding in.

+ Wait-- why is she actually stunning

+ Guys... I did not expect her to be this pretty...

Suddenly... *tomholland2013 has joined*

This is it. This is the moment Tom finds out you’re Ella Raine.

Tom’s POV

It was finally 3.00 on Friday afternoon, meaning I get to see what Ella Raine looks like. When I tried joining the live it was connecting for a few minutes before I was finally let in.

I covered my eyes because I wasn’t ready to see what my favorite singer looks like. Once I uncovered them I saw the best thing that I could have possibly seen. I saw Y/N on the other side of the screen. Now I understand why she wanted to wait until today to talk. It all makes sense now.

Narrator’s POV

You received very positive comments from your live stream and you were very happy with the results. The moment you shut off your live, you heard a banging at your door. Once the door opened and revealed Tom standing on the other side, he immediately stepped towards you and kissed you gently. You were startled at first, but then began kissing back.

Once the both of you pulled away, Tom said, “I’m ready to get back together with you and people don’t have to know that you’re Y/N until you’re ready, but I want you back in my life, as my girlfriend that is. You laughed at his forwardness, but then pulled him back into a kiss to show him that you agree.

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