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carrotmakar · 5 years ago

Text

Arrangement

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Word Count: 6.1k+ (I AM SO SORRY THAT IT’S SO LONG)

Summary: Tom gives you an offer you can’t refuse

Warning(s): It’s not edited, sorry.

A/N: This is my submission for the throwback writing challenge that @naturallytom is doing! I hope you enjoy!!

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Masterlist

How did I end up in this situation? You ask yourself as you stand arm in arm with the one and only Tom Holland. There were flashing lights all around you, temporarily blinding you. There was nothing that you could possibly focus on. Nothing at all, except for the way that he held you to keep you steady.

Oh, yeah, I’m crazy. You think as you begin to walk slightly farther down the red carpet in a dress that costs more than you make in an entire year at your job. But are you really crazy? Who in their right mind would turn down an offer like the one that he gave you? You couldn’t think of a single person, which made you feel slightly better about the situation.

It had started as a normal Saturday.

Your alarm went off at seven a.m. sharp. Your eyes snapped open, slightly disturbed by the blaring noise. There were broken rays of sunlight flowing into your room, making everything way brighter than it needed to be. You groaned to yourself, dreading the day you had ahead.

You groggily pulled yourself out of bed, almost tripping over your own feet a million times. You stumbled around your room, finding everything you needed to take a quick shower. Once you found all the necessities, you quickly went to the bathroom to clean yourself and try to get you looking presentable. You stepped out of the shower less than 15 minutes later, having washed your hair and your body in record time, while also remembering to shave since your uniform consisted of a short sleeve shirt and a skirt - since the weather had turned almost unbearably hot.

Your brain wasn’t even fully functioning yet, you were just going through the motions, doing what you do every morning when you have to go into work for an early shift.

With a cup of freshly brewed coffee and your keys in hand, you rushed out the door. You didn’t want to be caught in traffic, knowing that it would set you back by at least 30 minutes, which would in turn make you late for work. Traffic always ruined perfectly good mornings, and you wanted today to be a good day.

You got to the small, corner side cafe where you work almost twenty minutes before your shift was scheduled to start, so you sat down at a table and pulled out your laptop to get some writing done. You barely have any time to write, so when you did, you seized the opportunity. You had been working on the same piece for weeks, and you were beginning to lose hope in ever finishing it, so having this time to work on your piece made your day just that much better.

You had gotten almost four pages of the story done when your manager walked up in front of you, carrying herself like she was the best person in the world. Her face held her signature smirk, letting you know that the day was about to take a turn for the worse, at least until she left in a few hours.

“Time to clock in, y/n. Wouldn’t want to be late. You heard what the boss said if you’re late again.” You shut your laptop and put it away carefully in your bag.

You are completely aware of what he said to you. If you’re late one more time, whether it be because of traffic or not, you’re fired. He doesn’t care if you live forever away and the traffic sucks, he even went so far as to suggest that you find a job closer to home.

After you clocked in and laid your computer in the back room, you went to the schedule to see where they had you working for the day. You were assigned to man the cashier, which you normally wouldn’t complain about, but there were barely any customers. Within the first four hours that you were on the clock, maybe ten customers walked in and ordered something. And the last five were together. There were barely any orders, which meant that you spent the majority of your time at work wiping things down, making sure that everything was spotless, until a customer came in.

It’s going to be a really uneventful day, You thought to yourself. Days like these always were. They were the kinds of days that wore you down and made you feel even more tired after a shift than if you had been running around all day

Little did you know, this was not going to be one of those days.

Less than an hour before close, a man walked in. At first, you paid absolutely no attention to him. You were still wiping off a counter, waiting for him to come up to the register so that you could take his order. You had barely even looked up, just paying attention to how far away he was from the front counter.

But when you actually did look at him, the air was knocked out of your lungs.

Harrison Osterfield was standing right in front of you.

It took everything in your entire being to make your voice not shake when you asked, “What can I get for you today?”

He flashed you his award winning smile and rattled off his order. Surprisingly enough, it was quite simple. You quickly typed it into the register, assuming that the coffee would be the only thing he ordered seeing as he was alone. Before you could tell him his total however, he stopped you.

“One second, love. My mate, Tom is coming too. Just got the text, let me get a tea for him, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Will that be all for today?” There was a slight shake in your voice that time, you having no luck concealing it. Tom Holland? Thomas Stanley Holland was about to walk into the small cafe that you work in? What are the odds?

“Yeah, that’s all, love. Thank you.” He hands you a fifty dollar bill and says, “Keep the change. Buy yourself something that’s almost as lovely as you are.”

You couldn’t help but blush as he walked away. Usually, you would take this as an insult, but the way he worded it made it seem like less of one. Usually the guys that left you tips were old men that either took pity on you or waited around after one of your shifts to see if you’d sleep with him because he gave you an extra five bucks.

But this was Harrison Osterfield, he wasn’t that kind of guy. Or at least, he seemed to not be that kind of guy.

A few moments later, their drinks were ready and you carried them out to Harrison so he wouldn’t have to get up again. You didn’t usually do this, but come on, these drinks are for two of the best actors you had ever come across.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He says with a smile as you sit down the drinks.

“No problem.” You all but mumble as you turn around, slightly intimidated by his presence. You keep your eyes trained on the floor so that nobody can see how much you're blushing. Maybe it’s how he’s literally one of the most attractive guys on the planet, or maybe it’s because of the accent, but everything that he says seems to be getting to you today.

That wasn’t your brightest idea, however, looking at the floor in a cafe when you should be watching where you were going. Before you knew it, you bumped into something hard.

You look up, expecting it to be a wall, since it didn’t move one bit. You’re pretty clumsy.

As soon as your eyes lock with the chocolate colored ones attached to the brunette in front of you, you wish it was a wall that you had run into. That would have been a lot less embarrassing.

“Are you alright, darling?” Tom asks you, putting his, rather large, hands on your shoulders, ensuring that you’re steady and won’t trip in any way.

“Uh, yeah. Sorry, I should’ve been watching where I was going.” You look down at the floor, embarrassed that you were clumsy enough to foolishly run into someone as important as him.

He chuckles, making your eyes shoot back up to meet his. Great, now he’s laughing at you.

It seems almost idiotic of you to think that today was going to be a great day. Yeah, it had started out that way, but all great days can change in an instant.

“No, no, it’s all on me. I was blinded by how gorgeous you are. Should’ve been focusing on not running into you and ruining my first impression.” His cheeks immediately turn a slight shade of pink, making him look even cuter than he already is. For a moment, you find it hard to believe that someone as perfect as him could be blushing and calling someone like you gorgeous.

“Oh, please, you could never ruin your first impression. I mean, just look at you.” You compliment, hoping you’re not being too forward, not wanting to scare him off when you just met him.

“Why, thank you, darling. I’m Tom.” God, that accent will be the death of you.

“I’m y/n. It’s nice to see that you still introduce yourself to people.” Most famous people that walked into this cafe expected everyone to know exactly who they were, even if they had only been in two episodes of a TV show or one film.

“Of course I introduce myself, I can’t automatically expect you to know who I am. For all I know, you hate movies.” He has a shy smile on his face, kind of like he was hoping you did like movies.

“Well, Tom, I do, in fact, like movies. But it’s sweet that you’re so humble about your major role in the film industry.”

“It’s not that major, love. I’m just Spider-Man.” He talks about the role like it’s not that big of a deal, but you can see the way his eyes light up and the large smile that comes to his face.

“You are not just Spider-Man. Sorry if I’m being too direct here, but, in my opinion, Spider-Man will forever be the best superhero.” It’s your turn for your cheeks to tint pink. You can’t begin to process why you’re being this forward, this flirtatious. It’s the accent. Has to be.

“Is that so?” He smirks.

Oh what you would give to know what he was thinking at that exact moment. You may never know, however, because your boss interrupts the conversation you’re having.

“Y/N come back here, we have other customers than the Holland kid.” You roll your eyes at her and flash Tom an apologetic smile before reluctantly walking back to the counter.

There was not another customer in sight. There were barely any cars in the parking lot or on the street surrounding the cafe. Sounds about right, your manager had a long list of crazy rules for when she was the highest authority in the store. One of the biggest was that you’re not supposed to mingle with the customers for too long. She could have at least come up with a better excuse, though. Maybe Tom had liked your little cafe, and because of the rude comment, never wanted to come back.

The store is about five minutes from closing when Tom walks up to the register.

“When’s your shift over, darling?” He has a cheeky smile on his face. For a split second, you let yourself internally groan. You had hoped he was different, that he wasn’t like every other guy that tried to pick you up after shifts.

But then you realized, this was Tom Holland. There was no way in the world that he was like that.

“Try to be more subtle, Holland. The directness doesn’t look too good on you.” You joke, knowing full well that it looks great on him. And honestly, if that’s what he had been asking, you would have pushed aside the part of you that was internally groaning and went right with him. Because, come on, it would be crazy to say no.

“I don’t want to sleep with you, love. I want to talk to you about something.” He smirks, obviously amused that you assumed he wanted to take you home with him.

You blush at that, embarrassment setting in. “I get off in less than five minutes.”

“Alright, sweetheart, my mate and I will be waiting in the car.” He points to an Audi sitting out front. “Meet us there. I’ll make Harrison sit in the back.”

“Alrighty, Tom, I’ll see you in five.” You give him a sweet smile, although you were extremely confused as to why you would be meeting him in his car.

Was he going to kidnap you? Who cares? He’s hot.

He turns and walks out the door as you rush to get everything done.

When your area is cleaned, you all but sprint to the back to get your laptop bag.

“Bye, everyone. Have a good night!” You yell, making sure everyone hears you. You always tell everyone goodbye before you leave, it’s just something that you’ve grown accustomed to. You started it the day that you began working at the cafe, and everyone liked the idea of it. So, it just kinda stuck.

You walk out of the cafe and head to the sleek, obviously expensive, silver car awaiting your presence. You open the passenger door and slip into the seat.

“Hello, love.” Tom greets you at the same time as Harrison says, “Dang, I owe you.”

“Hello, Tom. Harrison, why do you owe Tom?” The confusion is written all over your face as you look between the boys for an answer.

Harrison visibly gulps before replying, “I bet Tom that he scared you away and that you weren’t going to show.”

“Well, he was quite forward, but what person in their right mind would be told to come meet you two and not show up to, at least, see what it was you needed to talk about?” You sure couldn’t imagine someone turning down the offer.

“Exactly, Harrison. But, love, we do need to talk to you.” Tom says, turning your attention back to the actual reason that you are sitting in a car that costs more than probably three years worth of paychecks, with two very handsome men.

“Alright, fire away. What is it?” You’re more curious than ever, wondering what could be so important.

“So, my management is pushing me to find someone that will attend events with me.” His face contorts in embarrassment, already seeming to regret his decision of asking you anything. “They say that ‘a young bachelor like me will draw more attention if I am seen with a pretty lady by my side.’” He doesn’t exactly look embarrassed anymore, it’s more of a look filled with disgust at how his management team worded their statement. “Something about being more desirable if I’m taken. I don’t know. However, I do want to please my management, no matter how stupid they sound. And when I was talking to you in the cafe, you seemed to be sweet. And you’re gorgeous. And I felt like our conversation just kind of flowed.” He hesitates for a second, as if to see if you were following along or if you were lost.

He continued after you nodded for him to do so. “So basically, y/n, what I’m asking is, for the proper compensation, would you be that girl for me?”

“Wait, wait, wait. You, Tom Holland, are asking me, y/f/n y/l/n, to be the girl you take to major events?” You’re trying your best to wrap your head around the situation.

“Well, not just that.” Harrison pipes up hesitantly.

“What else could there be?” Your voice is laced with confusion, and you know by the way that he places his arm on your leg to calm you, that Tom hears it.

“You would have to stay with me for a little while. Don’t worry though, if you say yes, we have guest rooms, so it wouldn’t be too invasive.” You can tell that he’s trying his best to make you as comfortable as possible with this. “You would need to go places with me, outside of these events. Nobody could know that the relationship is fake. Which means that our families and friends will have to be involved. Everyone, besides my management, and the three of us, would have to believe that it was real.” He avoids eye contact with you for a second, as if he was embarrassed to be asking something like this.

You understand, though. He’s 23, he shouldn’t have to be tied down by a woman just because of his management. He should have the ability to choose what he wants to do with his life, especially the romantic aspect of it.

“You can say no, of course.” Harrison says from behind you. “We wouldn’t want you to do anything that you don’t want to do.”

“Yeah, there’s no need for you to do this if you don’t wan-” Tom begins, reaching a hand behind him to scratch his neck.

“I’ll do it.” you interrupt, surprising both of the boys in the car.

“Wait, really. That easy?” Tom asks.

“You seem surprised, Holland.” It wasn’t like you had anything better to do. You worked at a corner side cafe for a manager that absolutely hated you, and you had no relationships, so you were completely free.

“Well, I kind of am, love. I didn’t expect for you to say yes that fast. If at all. I expected for you to have to think about it for a few days. And then ultimately say no. But, alright. I’ll set up a meeting with my management so we can go over a contract and what your payment should be.” He pulls out his phone to put everything in his calendar.

“There’s no need for payment. I don’t need your money. I’m just here to help.” In reality, you probably could use the money, but that wasn’t the kind of person that you are. You like to help people, and you never, ever ask for anything in return.

“You really know how to pick the perfect girl, don’t you mate?” Harrison says. You look back at him and he has a smile on his face. He doesn’t seem to be joking. That thought makes your stomach storm with butterflies and your cheeks instantly heat up.

“Seems like it. Everyone else would’ve wanted my money. You just seem like you’re doing this to benefit me. Nobody seems to be that genuine these days.” Tom says, his eyes never leaving yours. Of course you’re genuine. Just because he’s famous doesn’t mean that he’s any less of a human being. You would help anyone in a situation like this. If they needed you, you wouldn’t hesitate to be their fake girlfriend for a week or two.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. But would you really say yes to just anyone? Probably not. At this point, though, you’re just telling yourself whatever helps you sleep at night.

“Well, I just figured that you could find someone worse than me. And if you really need this, who am I to make this hard for you? Plus, I don’t need your money. I have a job that I really like and it pays the bills.” You’re surprised that they seem to think so highly of you already. They don’t even know you. It’s nice to have someone think of you as more than an employee to boss around. Although, with this whole thing, you’ll basically be working for Tom. Just with less money and more touching.

“You’re about to have more than enough money. You won’t be needing to pay rent if you’re staying with me. If you want, you can move the stuff that you really need or want with you to my house. And the rest, we can put in storage if you want, it’s up to you.”

“That sounds alright to me. I can start packing tomorrow if you’d like.”

“Yeah, yeah, if you send me your address, I can come help you. Harrison would probably come as well, if he isn’t busy.” Tom says, looking back at Harrison for confirmation.

“I have a meeting in the morning, but I can come after lunch.” The blonde says from the back seat.

“Tom?” You say, getting his attention again.

“Yes, love?” He looks at you instantly, his eyes trace your face over and over, looking for any sign that you changed your mind.

“I don’t have your number. I can’t send you my address without it.” You smile, and place your hand atop of his, which was still on your thigh.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Hand me your phone darling.” You do as he says and he enters his number. “Text me the address and then anytime that you need anything.”

“Sure thing, now if you two gentlemen don’t mind, I think I’m going to head home. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

“See you then, darling.” Tom says, watching you get out of the car.

“Goodbye, y/n.” you hear Harrison call before you shut the door.

You spend your drive home thinking about what in the world you just got yourself into.

Over the next few days, you had gotten closer to Tom. Your entire apartment had been packed up. You sent the things from your bedroom and other things that you wanted to make sure were with you to Tom’s house. The rest of your belongings went into a storage building that he wouldn’t stop pestering you until he got to pay for. That man was the most persistent person that you had ever met.

You refused to let him pay for anything else, however. You didn’t need his money. And you didn’t want him to think that you only took his offer for the financial aspect. You genuinely just wanted to help him.

You hadn’t started with your outings yet. You first had to have a meeting with his managers and some lawyers so that you could sign a nondisclosure agreement. Basically you just had to say that you wouldn’t tell anyone about this agreement with anyone. The whole thing would just end up blowing up in both of your faces.

You could see the headlines now if this were to ever leak.

‘Tom Holland, 23 Year Old Heartthrob has to PAY for his Girlfriends!’

‘Y/N, Just Another Golddigger’

There was no way in the entire world that you would ever tell someone about the fakeness of the whole thing. The consequences would be catastrophic. And you could not be the reason that Tom’s career fell apart.

A week later, the NDA had been signed and you were hanging out in Tom’s living room. You were talking about absolutely nothing,but the conversation still flowed as if you were talking about something important. He was giggling at something that was on his phone when you had an idea.

“Let’s go out. To lunch. You know, like a date.” You look down at your hands, embarrassed for some reason. It’s not like you were actually dating him. This shouldn’t be scary. But it is. This is Tom Holland.

What if you mess up? What if his fans hate the two of you together? What if his management regrets this decision? What if he regrets this decision?

That’s what’s running through your head as you wait for his answer. The silence that is radiating from him seems to be an uncomfortable one. The entire mood has shifted, and you hate the feeling of it.

“You-You’re asking me on a date?” You look up and he’s shocked. He’s looking at you like he can’t believe that you would ask him such a thing.

“Yeah, Tom. The public has to be introduced to me at some point. And it’s probably better to do some outings before the first event that you’re going to drag me to.” You try to explain, hoping that you thought right.

“Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll go on a date with you, love. Where do you want to go?” He questions.

“I’m not sure. Where will we get the most exposure?” You’re trying your best to get this out there without having to do something like him posting it on Instagram.

You’re just trying to help him get this moving so that his managers have absolutely no reason to gripe at him.

“Doesn’t matter. What’s your favorite place to get food?” He brushes the exposure idea aside, making it seem as if he really just wants this date to be just that, a date.

Now you’re thinking crazy y/n, you think to yourself.

“Well it’s not really a restaurant, but I’m kind of a sucker for the Gains Bowls from the Body Energy Club.”

“I have to say that I have never been there, or even really heard of it.”

“You wouldn’t have. It’s over in the states. California.”

“Is that where you’re from?” He seems genuinely interested in the answer, so you answer honestly.

“Yeah. Born and Raised. I moved out here to London so that I could stay with my best friend. He moved over here to go to college and I thought that was what I wanted too.”

“What do you mean, you thought?”

“I really just wanted to be a writer.”

“Do I get to meet this best friend of yours?”

“Oh, no, that won’t happen.” You want to leave it at that, as it is a sore subject for you, but you know that Tom’s going to ask why so you continue with, “We stopped being friends when he decided that my dreams were stupid. Told me that I would never make it as a writer.”

“Well, forget about him. You can be whatever you want to be. Don’t ever let anyone come in the way of what you want the most. I know the perfect place. But first, we need to get you into a dress.”

“Are we matching?” You ask, wanting to know if you should coordinate with what he was wearing or not.

“No, not on dates, that would seem too staged.”

“Alright.” With that, you leave to go find a dress.

When you signed the contract, you were also given a new wardrobe. Two, actually. One for dates that required dresses and one for non formal events that a dress should still be worn to.

The major events would have more extravagant dresses, of course.

So, you walk over to the rack in your room that holds all the ‘date dresses’ and you immediately pick the one that had been holding your eye since you got it.

It’s a blue high neck, lace cocktail dress. There’s a bow around the waist. It stops around mid thigh. You hope that Tom will like it. You remember him rambling about absolutely nothing in particular and accidentally telling you that his favorite color was blue.

You walk out of your room after fixing your hair and getting the rest of the things that you need.

Tom is standing in the living room in a white shirt, black blazer, and dress pants. Simple, yet perfect at the same time. How the hell can someone look that good? How the hell did you get so lucky? You know he isn’t really yours, but it’s a privilege just to be around him.

“You look ravishing, darling.” His voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“You look really, really handsome. Like, wow.” He chuckles at this, and your cheeks immediately heat up.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed, love. I’m not the best at taking compliments, that’s all. Now, would you like to get going?” Tom says, trying to calm the nerves he can not only sense, but see due to the tint that has made its way to your burning cheeks.

You walk outside with him and get in the car. The ride to the restaurant is pretty quiet, the nerves having silenced you.

“Darling, are you all right?” Tom asks, looking over to me when we came to a stop at a red light.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine Tom. Just nervous about it all.” You say, looking down at your hands.

“What are you nervous about, sweetheart?” He looks over at you, concern evident in his voice.

“What if someone sees us and then they take pictures? I mean, I know that’s the point and all,” you swallow the lump in your throat, “but what if your fans hate me? What if they hate us together?” You’re completely out of breath now, the nerves not allowing you to get the proper amount of oxygen into your lungs.

“My fans will be fine with you, love. You’re gorgeous. We look great together. Plus,” he reaches over for your hand and gives it a light squeeze, “we don’t have to look at what they’re saying. They’ll warm up to the idea if they don’t instantly love you.”

His words do little to soothe your insecurities that have made their way to the surface, but you give him a smile anyway.

He gives your hand another squeeze. He can tell that you’re still on edge.

“We can just go home if you want.” He suggests, just wanting you to be comfortable.

“No, no, it’s fine. I promise.” You assure him.

After that, the car ride goes back to being silent, but it’s no longer tense or awkward.

It’s comfortable.

When you arrive at the little restaurant he brought you to, you look over at him.

“I’m gonna get out and get your door, alright love? Just breathe, you’ve got this.” He says, trying to reassure you.

He does as he said he would. He opens his door and grabs your hand, bringing it to his lips and giving it a warm kiss.

“Such a gentleman.” You coo at him, causing him to give you a sweet smile.

“I try.” He smirks at you, letting you know that he knows exactly what he’s doing, making your heart flutter lie nobody has been able to do in a long time.

You make your way into the restaurant, being seated almost immediately and then having someone bring your drinks of choice.

“I miss moments like these.” Tom admits, although you don’t know what he means at first.

“Moments like what, Holland?” You question, wanting him to elaborate.

“Moments when I can be myself and not worry about saying the wrong thing because I know that someone is writing everything down.” This makes your heart swell, knowing that he feels this calm and open with you.

“Well, I’m not writing anything down, darling. You can tell me anything you want and nobody will ever hear a word about it.” This makes him genuinely smile, and you can tell how happy he is to know that.

“Well, what do you wanna know, love?”

“Hmm, what’s your story?”

“That is such a cliche question!” He giggles.

“I know, I know, but I’m genuinely curious. The whole world knows Tom Holland: Spider-Man, but I just want to know Tom Holland: the person.”

“Well, there’s not much to tell darling.”

“That’s nonsense-” You were in the middle of your thought when the waiter came back up to you to take your food orders.

After he leaves, Tom looks at you and begins, “That’s not nonsense, there’s nothing exciting about me that you probably don’t already know.”

“Hmm, well, because of the media, I know that you have three brothers, all younger. You have a dog named Tessa. Two loving parents. You used to dance and you play golf sometimes.” He gives you a look that radiates surprise that you even know anything about him in the slightest. “However, I do not know your birthday, your favorite color, what made you want to be an actor.

“I don’t know what your favorite pastime is - unless it’s golf of course. I don’t know the little things.” He’s giving you a look of pure adoration, and you let yourself wonder for a second what this would be like if it was real.

“Not a lot of people take the time to get to know me like that anymore.” He says, barely above a whisper. You know instantly that it wasn’t meant to be heard, so you say nothing and let him continue. “If you must know, my birthday is June 1, my favorite color is blue, I was born an actor, darling, there wasn’t a question of whether I wanted to or not.”

You giggled at that before motioning for him to continue.

“And, honestly, unless it’s just hanging with Haz, golf probably is my favorite pastime.”

“See? It wasn’t that hard to tell your story.”

“That’s not a story, y/n. That’s just details.”

“Details make the story, Holland.”

After you finish eating, he insists on paying, which you end up letting him do. But only because he brought up the fact that you were on a ‘date’ and no man in their right mind was going to make their girl pay, especially on the first date.

You’re on your way back out to his car, both laughing about nothing, when you get the sudden feeling that this may have been the best decision that you ever made.

A week later, you’re in a whirlwind of stylists, makeup artists, and managers. All getting you ready for some red carpet event that Tom was invited to.

They’ve picked out an extravagant dress for you, one to match Tom’s suit. It’s a maroon, flowy dress. Very modest, neckline not showing too much, legs completely covered. But you still look like a princess, at least that’s what you think.

“You look ravishing, darling.” Tom says from behind you, shamelessly looking you up and down.

You turn to look at him and all of the air is knocked from your lungs. “You look really handsome, Tommy.”

He smiles at that. The first time you called him by that nickname, he seemed hesitant, thought it was too childish, but the name on your lips made it perfect.

“Thank you, darling. Are you ready to head out?”

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go show the world how absolutely amazing that Mr. Holland looks tonight.”

“Don’t forget that we have to show them how I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

You cock your head to the side, wondering what he means by that.

“I get to have someone as stunning as you accompany me, I don’t know how I got so lucky.” You can’t stop the blush that appears on your cheeks.

You stand arm in arm with him. There were flashing lights all around you, temporarily blinding you. There was nothing that you could possibly focus on. Nothing at all, except for the way that he held you to keep you steady.

There’s something about the way that he’s holding on to you, his arm slightly tighter around your waist than it needs to be, that makes your heart flutter, even though you know that there’s nothing going on between the two of you.

Right?

You push the thought fro your mind, almost completely. Although you can’t stop yourself from wanting to do something. Something that you’ve been trying your best not to do since the night you met him.

When he puts his arm back around you, you put your hand on his shoulder and lean up, giving him a kiss on the cheek, letting it linger there for a second before pulling away.

He looks shocked, and you begin to wonder if you made a mistake, moved too fast.

“I-I’m sorry. Was that too much?” He’s blushing profusely, and you begin to see that he’s trying to suppress a smile.

He leans down to your ear and whispers, “No, no, not at all darling. Remember, we’re madly in love, so it’s alright to kiss me anytime you feel like it.”

And with that, all those little butterflies in your stomach multiply. And there’s no stopping them now.

Permanent Taglist: @spideygirl2003, @jackiehollanderr, @scarletsoldierrr, @thewayilookatbacon, @parker-barnes-af, @lost-in-the-stars03, @kisses-holland, @josiemara, @god-knows-what-am-i-doing, @fanficscuziranout, @babebenhardy, @akila-stilinski

Tom Holland Taglist: @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts, @averyfosterthoughts, @thorsangel,

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