#and i think tom would be pretty nervous about another big wedding

[prince--thomas]

In the Palm of My Hand ~~ [Self para]

One shot 2500 words. Tom on Levi’s wedding day

cw: brief, minor mentions of homophobia

“Knock, knock.”

“Da, you don’t have to say that if the door is open.” Levi turned on his heel towards Tom when he entered the room.

“Er, sorry. Right. Force of habit.” Tom chuckled dryly. It was something he’d always said before entering Levi’s room as a kid. At first, just because it was funny and made Levi laugh. Then, because he wanted to give his son some privacy. A heads up when his dad was about to enter his room.

There was a long pause.

Levi fiddled with his cufflinks. Tom fiddled with his. Neither of them spoke. That was probably Tom’s fault. He had never been someone who said a lot of things. Even when Levi was little. And, unfortunately, Levi took after Tom in this way. It wasn’t such a bad thing, Tom thought, except for in moments like this, when both of them were at a loss. The emotion in the room far too big for either of them to really…be able to acknowledge.

Tom shifted a little. From one foot to another.

Levi looked up at him expectantly.

“I was just—coming to see how you were doing,” Tom said, finally. He cleared his throat, ran a hand through his graying hair. The single streak had spread through the rest, leaving most of it the color of ash. His wife said it looked distinguished. Tom tried not to care.  

Levi’s lips twitched in a small smile. “Yeah, I figured.”

He didn’t say how he was. Tom wasn’t sure if he should ask. Maybe that would make things worse. Maybe it meant that he was fine and, therefore, had nothing to say.

Instead, Tom glanced around the room. It was a small chapel room, off the side of the Cathedral. It was small and a bit drafty. Cold and damp. Not exactly the place for festivities, in Tom’s opinion. Maybe it was good, though, to take a moment in a cold, drafty space before meeting the person who made you warm on the other side of the ceremony.

There was no one else there. Levi’s groomsmen had flocked off somewhere. Perhaps to join the bridesmaids before the walk up the aisle. Though, then again, they were doing some modern thing where everyone walked in on their own. Tom didn’t understand that, but there were also boys with the bridesmaids and girls with the groomsmen, not to mention everyone just sitting wherever they wanted in the crowd, so, at some point, he’d just stopped paying attention to what was going on. It was all too strange for him.

He didn’t mind, really. His son was his son. He was going to do what he wanted. That was something that Tom had given him. At least, it was something that he had tried to give him. The ability to speak his mind. And he’d certainly done so. On many colorful occasions as a teenager, specifically. But, ach, Tom could never be that mad at him, considering he wanted him to be the kind of person who stood up for what he believed in. Even if that meant saying no to Tom or Annie.

“Mama came by earlier.”

Tom’s gaze moved back to his son’s face. “Oh?”

“Yeah. She was blubbering. Talking about how when I was just a baby and stuff.” Levi twisted his ear. It was a nervous habit he’d picked up from Tom. Whenever he did it, Tom had a moment of remembering that his son was part of him. It sounded silly, but after all this time, it still felt like a little miracle to him.

“You want me to do that?”

Levi released his ear and straightened up some. He snorted. “No. Not really. Unless you have something about that to say?”

Tom thought about it. It was a good question. Was there anything from when Levi had been a baby that would prepare him for this moment? Or something that Tom had thought about…that would give Levi some comfort?

“I think it’s pretty fekkin weird,” Tom gruffed out eventually.

Levi laughed. “Yeah. Yeah, I can imagine.”

“You used to be so small,” Tom said, before he could stop himself. He didn’t usually talk about things like this. Even saying it felt odd to him now, made his throat tight. It was such a simple, true statement. Once, Levi had been so small.

Once, he had fit along Tom’s forearm, his head in his hand. Once, he’d been small enough to fall asleep on Tom’s chest. Had been small enough to sit on his shoulders. Tom had, over the years, tried to remember the last time he had done these things, but it was impossible to know. Moments in your life, he had learned a long time ago, slipped away before you were ready all the time. Half the time, you didn’t even know they were slipping away because they were so normal. You thought they’d never be over. And they always ended. People grew up. Or they died. Or they turned to hating you. Or they simply moved away, lost contact, became a ghost in practice.

Growing up, you learned these things. Tom didn’t want for Levi too. It was a kind of ache that everyone felt, though, he supposed. Part of living. Maybe, one day, Levi would stand in this position with his son. And he’d remember when he stood there with his father. Tom was glad to give him this memory. He didn’t have one from his own wedding. Another thing that Tom thought, and felt grateful for, that he was here on his son’s wedding day. The way his own father wasn’t for his.

“Can’t believe this is my first wedding and I’m the groom,” Levi said, shaking his shoulders as if a shiver had just run up his spine.

Tom’s brow furrowed. “Eh? That can’t be true.”

“It is. I wasn’t in Harlynne’s wedding. And none of my friends have gotten married.”

“You were in my wedding,” Tom protested.

“Da. I was a baby. I don’t remember that.”

“You were there,” Tom insisted. “You were the ring bearer.”

“Yeah, I know. I saw the pictures. Mummy likes to pull them out whenever she can.”

Tom chuckled. That was true enough. “I am just sayin’, you’ve done some version of this before. Though—" Tom paused; his brow furrowed. “This looks not a damn thing like my wedding.”

Levi laughed at that. “Yeah. Uh, vibes are very different.”

“Yeah. The vibes.” Tom raised his eyebrows slightly.

There was another pause. Levi looked away shyly, fiddling again with his cufflinks. Tom wondered if he had put them on right. If he wanted help, but wasn’t going to ask for it. Levi wasn’t very good at that. He was constantly making Tom guess what he wanted. Though, his mum said that Tom was like that too. Sometimes, he didn’t even realize something was bothering him until she pointed it out.

Tom had to do that with Levi…except he wasn’t as perceptive as his wife. He never knew what the bloody hell was going on in his son’s head. You would think raising someone would give you a pretty good idea, but they changed so much. From day to day, from week to week, from hour to hour, sometimes, it seemed. They were different people. And, because they were behind you, and you were growing too, those pieces never quite seemed to click together. At least, not for Tom and Levi.

It wasn’t like they didn’t try.

They were just different.

Tom still loved his boy. His first boy. His eldest, but his baby all the same. The person who had made Tom a father. The greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

“Aye.”

Levi looked up on command. It was instinct, probably. Knowing his dad had something to say with just a word. Sometimes, Tom wondered if Levi knew him better than he knew his son.

“You know I’m just taking the mickey, eh?”

“I know.” Levi’s gaze darted towards the window. It was gray outside. Rain was splashing lightly against the windowpane. “Mummy said it’s good luck for it to rain on a wedding.”

“Well, I don’t know about any of that, but if she said it, it’s probably true.”

“You think?”

“Rain ain’t great out on the water. Bad omen. Sailors are notoriously superstitious, you know. But on a wedding? Sure. I don’t see why not.”

Levi nodded. He still wasn’t looking at Tom. “You’re okay with this right?”

Tom blinked. “Okay with what?”

“This. Me. Getting married.”

“What? ‘Course I am. Did someone say I’m not?”

Levi shook his head. He still wasn’t look at his father, but now he was looking at the tops of his shiny black shoes. He fiddled with his cufflinks again.

“Ach. Give me your damn hand.”

“What?” Levi’s shoulders jumped and his head snapped up, giving his father a startled look.

“Gimme your hand, boy.”

Levi held out one of his hands. Tom flipped it over, not exactly gently. He’d learned a lot about gentleness over the last twenty-four years, but there were something things that were in your bones.

“You put ‘em on backwards.”

“Oh.”

Tom unclipped the cufflink, fiddling with the small object.

“I’ve never put them on before.”

“You could’ve asked.” Tom glanced at his son again, searching his face. His freckles were bright against his pale skin. Tom couldn’t tell if it was just because he was so close, or because he was nervous.

Levi didn’t say anything, properly reprimanded.

They were quiet as Tom fixed his cufflink and then gestured for his other hand. Tom fixed that one too. He turned the little stars around thoughtfully with a thumb, sliding it over the thin skin of Levi’s wrist before dropping his hand.

“I just meant,” Levi continued from earlier with a little sigh, “I know this is all…really different for you. And I know how you feel about different.”

“I don’t feel any way about different,” Tom grunted, his own cheeks heating slightly.

Levi actually looked at him to give him a doubtful glance.

“I don’t feel any way about you being different,” Tom said. “Hell, the way the world is going—everyone’s bound to be different these days.”

“Da, you can’t say that. It’s homophobic.”

“What? I’m not sayin’ there is anything wrong with that.” He snorted in amusement and shook his head. “Is this why you wanted to see me? I told you when you got engaged, I didn’t give a fuck. Actually, I told you when you started dating.”

That was true enough. Tom had grown a lot in the last years. Had learned a lot and seen a lot. He wasn’t perfect. He didn’t always say the right thing. But he’d always meant what he said. He meant that he loved his son, no matter what. He’d love him through magic and mistakes and this too. The idea that he wouldn’t was frankly too bizarre to him to put into words.

What kind of father just stopped loving his son?

Not the kind of father that Tom could ever be. He loved Levi too much. Loved him since he’d been big enough to fit his head in the palm of his hand. The only thing that could change that is if Levi hated him first. And even then, Tom would love him. He’d always wondered about his mother.

If she had still loved him. Even at her funeral a year ago, he’d wondered. She’d been sick. He’d tried to go see her in the hospital, but she wouldn’t see him. His name hadn’t been on the list.

Tom couldn’t ever imagine taking Levi off the list.

“Listen,” Tom said, reaching out to grab his son’s shoulder. Then, he dragged his hand up to clap him on the other shoulder.

“Since you were a wee bairn, before I ever even held you in my arms all I ever wanted was for you to be safe and happy. I have spent the last twenty-four years making sure you were safe. I dunno how well I did with the happy part.”

Levi frowned a little and his lips parted, just the slightest, as if he was going to say something, but Tom shook his head.

“If that bloke out there makes you happy, then God bless. That’s all that matters to me. I promise. And—I’m sorry if you felt any other way about it. If you thought I felt any other way about it. I am proud of you. I love you.” Tom didn’t say those words much. Not to Levi. Not to his kids. He said it to his wife more on instinct than anything, because she said it to him first.

But when Levi was a baby—when he was small enough that he fit along Tom’s forearm, his head in his hand—Tom had told him he loved him all the time. He’d made sure that he knew it. Sometimes, the love had been so big that there wasn’t anything else for Tom to do but say it, unless he had wanted to cry. And yeah, he’d done that too, sometimes. It had subsided over the years. That raw, painful ache in his chest whenever he thought about Levi—about any of his children—but in this moment, thinking about how Levi might not know the acute pain of that affection, his eyes watered. His hand moved from his son’s shoulder to grip the back of his head, bowing it forward so their foreheads touched.

He moved back, kissing Levi’s forehead. Tom couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that.

Maybe that was the problem. Over these years, that love had grown comfortable. The longer Levi was happy, was safe, the less Tom had to worry about him. He was a proper adult now. With a job. With a family. At his age, Tom had just been a few years off from becoming a father. Tom looked at Levi and he saw a job well done.

But maybe, there was still work to do.

Levi didn’t know how to button cufflinks. There were other things, too. Tom had come over the weekend before last to help him and his fiancé build a desk. They’d been absolutely useless. Tom had wound up doing most of the work. There were still things for them. There was, more than anything, still time.

“You ready?” Tom asked, clapping Levi’s shoulders again and squeezing.

“I think so.”

Yeah, Tom thought so too. For both of them.

“Good.” He dropped his hands from around Levi’s shoulders.

“Da?”

“Hm?”

“I love you, too.”

Tom smiled, just a little. He hoped it was true. He felt like it was. Despite their differences—and their similarities too—Levi was still one of Tom’s favourite people in the whole world. Ever since he had been a baby, small enough to fit along is forearm; his head in the palm of Tom’s hand.

[ezlebe]

Prompt (if you are still taking them): Greg actually does go over to Tom’s to get a watch

Greg takes a sip of his drink and catches Shiv staring across the room, as a smile crosses her face, and follows it only to find that guy from the wedding drifting toward her for the second time that night. He glances back and forth between them while something ugly builds in his chest, and he should go over there, do something, but instead his feet stay rooted, as usual, while they start to flirt.

He watches Shiv lean forward, offering her cheek for a whisper in her ear, and feels an abrupt wave of guilt break across his sternum. He finishes the rest of his champagne in a gulp, handing off his glass, and decides that holding his grudge about getting stuck in a stuffy not-office has reached a premature end, considering what’s going on in Tom’s particular corner.

He glances around and spies Kendall on the other side of the room. He’s avoiding Shiv now, after getting in between those two the first time to bomb whatever his pitch was, and Greg finds himself moving with a nervous sense of urgency. It looks like Kendall is still riding the high of his big speech, so he probably won’t be as much of a downer about Greg about to bail for no real reason.

“Hey, Ken,” Greg says, bending a little closer to Kendall while smoothing hair back over his forehead. “I – uh, I think I need to go?”

“What?” Kendall asks, shaking his head with a typically dramatic, affronted blink. “Where?”

“I – uh, I…” Greg says, know that he probably shouldn’t mention Tom, lest any… donut dots get connected; they had been pretty good though, and it sort of felt like, in a weird way, Tom got him breakfast. “I left my oven on?”

“All day,” Kendall mocks, then exhales a low scoff, gesturing with a dismissive turn of his hand. “Do you even know where the oven is in that place?”

“Yeah?” Greg says, as a little irked stab digs into the center of his chest. “It’s where I make, like… pizza rolls.”

Kendall stares for a beat, then snorts while rolling his eyes across the room. “Sure. Whatever, man.”

“So, uh…” Greg takes a step backward, throwing his hand up in an awkward wave. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Hey, wait –” Kendall says, reaching out with a wag of his finger at Greg’s wrist and the timepiece hanging off of it. “Give that back, if you’re not buying it.”

“If I’m not –” Greg repeats, then hastily tugs at the clasp and shakes off the watch, holding it out to Kendall with a firm, “No. Absolutely – n-no way. I thought you were buying –”

“Do I look like a fucking sugar daddy?” Kendall sneers, taking back the watch with a hook of his fingers around the band. “Jesus. Go check on your stove, dude, maybe it gives a shit.”

“Hah,” Greg says, digging a hand up through his hair a second time and scratching harder against his scalp. “Maybe.”

It takes a lot of time, getting another ride, then getting across town, but Greg eventually finds himself in front of Tom’s door. He thinks about sending a warning text, as he hovers outside the door, but then Tom probably would call him, so…

“What the fuck are you doing?” The door says in Tom’s tired voice.

Greg jumps about three meters backward, then feels his ears burn, but the embarrassment just cedes to awkwardness when Tom doesn’t even laugh. The door unlocks a few seconds later, so Greg pushes inside, glancing around to the living room side and waving at Tom hovering at the bar.

“You’re late,” Tom scolds, gesturing hard at Greg with a whiskey glass.

Greg flattens his mouth in an apology. “Sorry, I –”

“Oh, please, you’re not,” Tom mutters, throwing the glass back with a wince and a setting it down with a heavy smack onto the bar. “Why’re you here, Greg?”

“I felt bad,” Greg says, watching Tom pour another few fingers of liquor.

Tom rolls his eyes with a bursting scoff. “And here I thought I polished that out of you.”

Greg smiles, weakly, “Guess not.”

“Well, get comfy, buddy,” Tom says, drifting around the room with an aire of melancholy mania, sort of dancing in a big, lopsided circle.  “I didn’t mention you, specifically, to the guy, but I am no foreplay, no lube, capital-F fucked.”

“Are you sure?” Greg says, taking off his jacket and putting it onto the back of the plush chair. “Maybe he’s just paid to say that? Like, if he talks like that, you – uh, keep using him. He’s like not a lawyer, right?”

“It’s a big deal, Greg,” Tom says, slumping down into the sofa with a drop of his head against the cushions. “You know this. You blackmailed me about it.”

“Right, but – but I’m not a lawyer, either?” Greg says, shrugging and yanking on his bow tie with a grimace. He thinks he did it wrong – he’s stuck in it forever, or, at least, like during this totally not a bow-tie conversation. “I have like not even half of an English degree.”

“Jesus,” Tom mutters, then pulls himself right back up off the sofa with a groan. He reaches up, suddenly, yanking at Greg’s bow tie. “Stand still.”

Greg is glad that’s all Tom is asking, because he can’t really do anything else, eyes fixed over Tom’s ear while his breath goes so shallow it may as well stop. He does accidentally swallow, feeling his throat brush up against Tom’s yanking fingers, and refuses to examine any shivers or raised hairs too close.

“There we go,” Tom says, voice crooning, pulling the tie from Greg’s neck with a flick. “And look, your head even stayed on.”

Greg answers with a huff and raises a hand to the back of his neck, pretending to loosen his collar rather than rub out the heat.

“Keep that up. Shiv left out some clothes and Mondale ate them,” Tom says, sighing hard and glancing backward where Mondale’s sleeping in his pen.  “Poor guy’s been real down, I just didn’t know why – I thought he was getting old.”

“Oh, that’s not like great – is he okay?” Greg says, hastily shoving the bow tie deep in his pocket. “What was it?”

“Pantyhose,” Tom says, slumping back down onto the sofa with a wretched curve to his shoulders. “I can’t go to jail... she won’t take care of him, Greg? She’ll let him eat anything.”

“I – I don’t think you’re going to jail, but like – but I could help. My mom has had dogs like my whole life,” Greg says, exhaling a laugh and managing to force a grin. “They’re like all she ever took care of.”

Tom grunts a low mumble, taking another sip of his drink, and tilts his head one way, then the other. “Did I get you those suspenders?”

“Yeah,” Greg says, looking down and slipping a thumb through one, then realizes with a start that Tom has the same sort and color hanging off his waistband. “It’s – uh, mostly the same suit I wore to RECNY.”

Tom stares for a few beats, then snorts, “Fitting. Beginning of the end.”

Greg winces and glances toward the liquor cabinet, then decides he better not – he’s pretty sure Tom won’t care what he drinks, he never has, but… He still has Rava’s upset voice ringing in his ears.

“I think it’ll be fine, Tom,” Greg says, uselessly, because despite everything some part of him still likes to think that if he wants something hard enough that it can work out. “People like you don’t really go to jail for these things, you know? I – I think that guy just wants a – like, his fee.”

Tom is silent for a few seconds, then exhales a deep sigh. “Why did you pop in here tonight, Greg?”

“I did feel bad,” Greg says, which is, at least, honest, if still a half-truth.

“Thanks for the pity, I guess,” Tom said, taking another overlong sip from his drink. “I’ll take what I can take.”

“And like I can agree to whatever story you want, too, as long as it –” Greg winces, then shrugs, “I guess, isn’t a better deal for you, you know? And you don’t like ever testify again.”

Tom exhales a wheezy, humorless laugh. “Deal.”

“I’m kind of hungry,” Greg says, walking back across the room with his fingers twisting into his palms. He pauses, nearer the sofa, “Do you still have that fancy bread?”

“Probably,” Tom says, muted, staring hard out the window wall to his right.

“Are you? I’ll make you some, too,” Greg says, fumbling, feeling a flare of mortification against his ears. He doesn’t know what to do and – and he can’t even do what he does what to do, because it just makes everything even worse.

He finds the bread in its usual place carefully hidden inside a Mondale-proof box. He looks for honey, but the little container is gone, so he hesitantly grabs a bottle of agave syrup - it’s not that different, right? It’s not the same, either, like at all, but the sentiment matters.

He wishes Tom had a toaster, too, instead of only a toaster oven. He thinks it would be quicker, maybe, since the smell of fresh bread is all of a sudden making his stomach cramp.

He flinches when Tom greets Shiv in the main room, and his shoulders hunch in mostly reflex. He can just barely hear Tom starting to relay to Shiv the Mondale incident, then the prison-advisor, and tries to concentrate on the glowing heat in the box. He wraps his arms across his waist and swallows hard, thinking about the last time he brought it up, but also… but also.

“ – mean cooperate?” Shiv says, her voice lifting at the end.

Greg drifts closer to the door while furrowing his brow.

“No, not with the DOJ,” Tom says, “Your dad. I go to your dad and I… offer myself up.”

Greg blinks hard and shakes his head to himself, thinking of Tom’s anger and stolen chicken – it feels like forever ago, but it’s only been days. He doesn’t really want to believe Tom could now be willingly stepping onto Kendall’s death march path.

Shiv is quiet for a few tense seconds. “No, no honey, you can’t. You’re drunk.”

Greg feels his shoulders relax slightly, looking up and reaching for a plate from the floating shelf.

“…But it is smart.”

Greg fumbles the plate, slightly, swallowing hard, because she isn’t even… He thought, on the yacht, maybe she said that just for Logan, but – but Logan isn’t here, it’s just Tom, who’s super drunk and already feeling bad.

“It’s kind of a win from a no-win.”

Greg feels his eyes go wide toward the wall – a win for who?

“Yeah, it’s punchy,” Shiv continues, now halfway to actually eager, somehow, “It’s very likely that no one goes to prison, and, either way, you bank gold with my dad. The offer is… kinda genius.”

“What?” Greg mouths, silently, frowning at his own reflection in the kitchen cabinets.

Shiv offers a delayed, pitchy laugh. “But no, no you – ”

The toaster oven interrupts with a few small beeps, and Greg winces hard while hastily reaching out to grab the toast from the oven. He nearly drops the first piece, a burn stinging across his fingers.

“Is someone here?” Shiv says, interrupting herself with sharp surprise.

“Just Greg.”

Shiv raises her voice further, exhaling a pitchy, upset huff. “What – honey, why didn’t you say anything?”

Tom is quiet for a few seconds. “He’s here all the time.”

“Not usually when I’m here, though,” Shiv says, her voice getting louder, so she must be walking toward the kitchen.

Great.

Greg looks up when some chill somehow wafts through the kitchen, looking back over his shoulder to see Shiv in the entry. He nods in some greeting, trying not to feel too aware of his current appearance in comparison to her still-immaculate gala outfit.

“There he is – why the hell are you here?” Shiv asks, cocking her head while raising an incredulous brow. “Weren’t you playing jester to Kendall?”

“Yeah,” Greg shrugs, nodding his head a bit. He lowers his voice, barely above a mutter, but tries to keep it firm. “But then I saw you and, uh,” He shrugs, looking down while dolloping syrup onto the toast. “That guy.”

“Uh, okay? Cousin Greg?”

Greg picks up the knife, looking up while setting the syrup to the side. “The one who was at your wedding.”

Shiv narrows her eyes slightly, then shifts her jaw, now dropping her voice to match. “He told you about that?”

“I told him, really,” Greg says, looking down while gradually spreading the syrup in a thin layer across each slice of crusty toast, then gently setting the knife down with a quiet clink into the sink. “I was going to tonight, too, only he’s like… yeah. But, still, you know – uh, fuck you, I guess?”

Shiv scoffs hard and widens her eyes, taking a half steep forward while a sneer curls across her mouth. “You cannot talk to me that way.”

Greg stares back at her for another silent pair of moments. “I just did, so,” he says, slipping past her to go back toward Tom in the sitting room.

“Hey, here,” Greg says, offering Tom the plate between them, then catching Shiv all but stalking out of the kitchen. He meets her stare, when she pauses, and realizes he might actually do something, if she tries to kick him out.

“What’s on it?” Tom asks, peering down at the plate, thankfully missing the poisonous look that Shiv sends Greg, as she turns up the stairs to the next level.

“Oh, uh,” Greg says, looking over to Tom with a sharp clear of his throat, reaching behind his head with his free hand and scratching at his scalp. “You didn’t have like any honey, so it’s agave syrup.”

Tom barks out a loud laugh, clumsily taking the plate, as abruptly his face crumples. “Thank you, buddy.”

“So, um…” Greg squeezes at both his knees, leaning forward, then back, taking a deep, harsh breath. He takes the slice from the top of the plate. “Look, Tom, remember my – my grandpa took me to that anarchist lawyer?”

“What?” Tom says, blinking, his voice going a little flat. “Your grandpa - Anarchist, really?”

Greg nibbles at the edge of his piece, while he shrugs and pulls out his phone. “And uh, I can give you his number?”

“Greg…” Tom sighs, red eyes dropping toward the plate. “I’ve been thinking, and it’s probably just better, if I –”

“Tom,” Greg interrupts, he glances backward to where Shiv disappeared up toward the bedroom. “It isn’t, like better at all if you volunteer go to jail.”

“That afraid I’ll turn on you, buddy?” Tom says, blinking slow while offering a feeble smile.

“O-or me either, yeah,” Greg agrees, swallowing thickly, “But, no, like…?” He has that recording, yeah, but he – He probably shouldn’t mention that like right now with Tom already talking up a worse case scenario. “But this is sort of about you, right?”

“I don’t want to be on Kendall’s ‘side’,” Tom says, crunching into the toast with a twist at the corner of his mouth. “He’s so… Greg, he’s unwell. Existentially.”

“He gave me an apartment,” Greg says, taking off another edge of the crust.

“So you’re biased,” Tom says, eyes rolling drunkenly wide, as he settles Greg with a flat look. “He probably didn’t – I don’t think anyone in your family is doing stuff to be nice. Including me, including you…”

Greg shifts forward on the sofa, glancing toward the stairs while rubbing a circle at his temple. “…Probably not, yeah. It was after I told him I kept some of the papers at the wedding,”

“My wedding?” Tom clarifies, then laughs, taking another bite of the toast. “God, you’re so sly. Like a big ol’ musky polecat. Sneaky sneak.”

Greg shrugs, halfheartedly, and starts in for real on his own piece of toast.

“And you can’t even blame me for it,” Tom says, spraying crumbs on his lap through a seeming honest grin. “You’re just like that.”

Greg drops his head in a nod, thumbing through his phone with his free hand. “Yeah, you’re… uh, not really subtle.”

“Good lord,” Tom says, tone briefly gaining a pitchy rebuke “Someone’s getting full of himself.”

“Here,” Greg says, swiping on the contact and telling it to send to Tom, then looking for the picture that he took of the business card, too. “That’s the lawyer? You can, uh…” He shakes his head with an awkward shrug. “Think of it as my grandpa’s side?”

Tom stares at the text popping up on his phone. “He doesn’t like me. At all.”

“He doesn’t really like anyone, so,” Greg says, though he does wonder if this is him banking gold, trying to pull someone in like Tom, but, then again, Grandpa Ewan will probably just be annoyed by another fickle variable. “But I-I think… if you wanted to? You could blame Uncle Logan, o-or Gerri, or Kendall?”

Tom rolls his eyes hard, but he doesn’t do anything like make a show of erasing the number. He does drop the phone to his lap, where it slides across his thigh into the seam of the cushion. “Everyone who told me not to, but you, Greg?”

Greg feels his eyes go a bit wide, glancing away and then back to Tom.

Tom blinks placidly and raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t seem angry. “It became obvious after a point.”

“I-In my defense,” Greg says, sweeping hair behind his ears with both hands, “That was like…” He takes a deep breath, exhaling it slow through flat lips. “Way before I cared about you more than them?”

Tom coughs around the toast in his mouth.

“Tom?” Greg asks, wondering if he’s choked – the syrup was pretty tacky.

“Ah, hah – oh,” Tom says, stuffing the last bite between his lips with a hard shake of his head. He takes a particularly long time chewing, then reaches out and taps Greg’s arm while setting the plate to the side. “Weren’t you getting a watch, Gregaroo?”

“Um,” Greg intones, rolling his head to the side with a wince. “No, like I guess I – I would’ve been buying it.”

Tom exhales a low scoff. “See? What a jackass.”

“Yeah, like…” Greg looks down at his bare wrist, circling his fingers around it. “I don’t have $40k like just lying around? I mean, I sorta do, but I would like, uh – rather buy a car, or something, you know?”

Tom hums with a meandering sort of drunkenness. “How do you feel about Jaeger-LeCoultre?”

“I don’t actually like need a watch,” Greg says, ears warming while he shakes his head with a sink into his shoulders. “For coming here.”

“Oh, get over yourself,” Tom says, flopping back on the couch and grasping back for his phone with a furrowed brow. “Answer the question.”

“I mean…” Greg exhales hard through his nose. “I’m not sure what that is?”

Tom tuts harshly, sweeping up his phone screen in a wide gesture. “Oh, Gregory,” He says, as he starts tapping at the browser with his head lolling against a shoulder. “So many big words, so few definitions.”

“It’s not like a real word…” Greg leans forward to look at the picture that Tom offers, then raises his brows; it’s nothing like the one that Kendall’s watch guy brought out, instead it’s sort of normal and rectangular with gold, somewhat bubbly numbers. “It’s like an antique?”

Tom grunts, awfully and maybe melodramatically dejected about it. “You not an art deco guy?”

“No, it’s – I like it, actually?” Greg says, a little surprised that he really does, feeling drawn in by the simple, easy-to-read face and the design like he might see in an old movie. “But what if I broke it?”

“It’s lasted eighty years, bud, it can take you,” Tom says, as he swipes at the screen, showing a few more pictures, then revealing that the face apparently flips around to hide the clock. “See, it’s fiddly. You like fiddly.”

“Yeah,” Greg says, rolling his lips together, then leans in a bit closer to Tom until their shoulders are pressed hard together.

It’s not a screaming posse or a chartered limousine, there’s no man with a case offering up multiple thousands of dollars in a box; it’s somewhat tensely quiet, it smells a little like burnt toast, and none of these watches might ever leave the phone screen. The difference is nothing less than stark. Greg doesn’t exactly regret being part of one or the other, as catching a taste of Kendall’s mania is always exciting and Tom’s attention makes him feel like a – a person, but, sometimes, both are a little intense to the point of exhausting. He’s glad to have, at least, ended the night here, as he tilts his head when Tom angles the screen to share a pocket watch.

“I think you’re just weird enough to pull it off, Alice.”

Greg just huffs quietly and drops his chin, not quite brave enough to set it across Tom’s shoulder. Next time, maybe, if they’re really alone.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Adventures in Cat Sitting

Synopsis: Tom is not a cat person, but watches your cat anyway

Masterlist

“Hi baby.” You appeared in the doorway of the living room with a blanket wrapped around your shoulders and a nervous smile on your face. You had a big favor to ask of Tom and you already knew he wasn’t going to like it.

“Hi princess.” Tom sat up on the couch and noticed your face. “You look like you need something.”

“I might.” You shrugged as you sat down on his lap. He immediately wrapped his arms around you to keep you from falling off, clasping his hands together under your spine.

“Let me see if I can help you.” He chuckled as he tugged you closer by the blanket.

“So you know how I have to go away this week for my cousins wedding?” You began, slow as not to startle him.

“Yeah. I miss you already.” He pouted, making you laugh and kiss his lips.

“I miss you too, lover.” You ran your fingers though his hair. “So I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”

“Anything, Princess.” He smiled lazily at you. “What do you need?”

You tugged at his shirt for a moment and avoided eye contact, shrugging a little as if you hadn’t been planning this for days.

“Ineedyoutowatchmycat.” You said quickly.

“What?” Tom furrowed his eyebrows when he didn’t understand you.

“I need you to watch my cat?” You grimaced, finally looking at him. You knew how Tom felt about your cat from the many, many times he told you.

He wasn’t a cat person. Not at all. And your cat in particular seemed to be his sworn enemy. They never got along and you often had to hide him in another room when Tom was over.

“You mean he’s not going to be guarding the pits of hell?” Tom tilted his head in confusion, making you roll your eyes.

“He is not that bad.” You insisted. “You can survive a few days with him.”

“Uh Uh.” Tom shook his head firmly. “You know how I feel about cats. That’s my least favorite kind of pussy.”

Your jaw dropped as he laughed at his own joke, stopping when you smacked his arm.

“Don’t get fresh.” You scolded. “I just need you to watch my cat for a few days.”

“You don’t have a cat.” Tom disagreed. “You have whatever Pandora let out of her box.”

“Oatmeal is really sweet once he warms up to you.” You told him. “You haven’t spent enough time with him to do that.”

“Because every time I get close to him, he hisses at me.” Tom exclaimed.

“Not every time.” You said pointedly. “Just most times.”

“Can’t you put him in the kennel?” Tom whined, knowing he wasn’t going to get out of this.

“He’s not social and I haven’t found one I like.” You pouted, putting on puppy dog eyes to sway him.

“So drop it off in the forest for a few days and let it get some life experience.” Tom shrugged, earning himself another playful smack.

“Tom.” You groaned. “He’ll die out there.”

“We can only hope.” Tom mumbled under his breath.

“I think this will be good for you guys.” You ignored his comment. “You’re the two most important men in my life and I need you to get along.”

“How am I possibly on the same level as that heathen?” Tom held a hand over his chest like he was offended.

“I love you both so much and it kills me that you don’t get along.” You whined, stroking his cheek to pull him back.

“We’d get along just fine if he wasn’t such a bastard.” Tom snapped, making you gasp.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to call my cat a bastard?” You asked. This was a conversation you had had many times as it was Toms preferred nickname for you cat. Tom shrunk down on the couch and looked at the ceiling as he blew out an annoyed huff.

“Sorry.” He mumbled.

“This could be good for us too.” You assured him. “Watching a pet is an integral part in any relationship. I’m giving you all my trust.”

“You’re not giving me your trust.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’re giving me your fat ass demon cat.”

“Come on, please baby?” You jutted yourself bottom lip out. “Oatmeal might grow on you.”

“Aw. Like genital warts?” Tom smiled sarcastically.

“No.” You said flatly. “Not like genital warts.”

“Why do I have to watch him?” Tom complained like a child. “Why can’t you just leave him in a box with some food and water?”

“Would you like that if I did that to you?” You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

“If there was alcohol in the box, then yeah.” He shrugged. “I might just enjoy myself.”

You realized you weren’t getting anywhere and pulled away from him with a new approach ready.

“Fine.” You sighed and dramatically looked away. “If you don’t want to watch my cat, I’ll just have to find a boyfriend who will.”

You started to get up but Tom immediately pulled you back, making you giggle as he held on firmly. He had finally caved and you knew it.

“Woah woah wait.” He nuzzled into your neck and left kisses there before sighing. “I’ll watch your bastard child.”

“You’ll what?” You texted him.

“I’ll watch your precious fur baby.” He said through a fake smile. You twisted your body and wrapped your arms around him, kissing every inch of his face you could reach.

“Thank you.” You gushed. “You’re a life saver.”

“You’re welcome, darling.” He chuckled as he lovingly rubbed your back. “You better remember this if I ever need a kidney.”

“I don’t think the two things carry equal weight.” You tilted your head playfully and laughed.

“They don’t.” He agreed. “You’re welcome for letting you off easy.”

Rolling your eyes at your boyfriend, you decided not to fight back since he was doing you a favor. Instead, you opted for kissing him long and deep to show your appreciation.

“Thanks for doing this.” You mumbled against his lips. “I know you don’t like cats so I appreciate it. I owe you one.”

“Mind if I collect my toll now?” Tom smirked as he flipped you onto your back, making you laugh loudly.

“Not at all.”

Sunday

“This is his food.” You handed Tom a pink bag with whiskers stitched on. “He gets two cups a day, dry at morning and wet at night. He won’t eat unless you scratch him behind the ears after you put it in his bowl.”

“I’m not putting my hands anywhere near that thing.” Tom shook his head as he took the bag. “It has a bloodlust.”

Oatmeal was nestled in your arms, staring at Tom with a vengeance. Tom stared back with wide eyes, already feeling his pulse quicken.

“No he does not.” You cooed as you scratched Oatmeal behind the ears. “Make sure to keep an eye on his water bowl and never give him milk. It’s bad for his teeth.”

“Right. Wouldn’t want him losing his razor sharp little death traps.” Tom said sarcastically, seemingly speaking directly to the cat. “If he bites me, I’ll bite him right back.”

“Tom.” You sighed deeply. “I shouldn’t have to say this, but do not bite my cat.”

Oatmeal suddenly bared his teeth and hissed at Tom, making Tom gasp.

“Did you hear what he just said to me?” Tom exclaimed as he pointed to the cat.

“He’s just getting used to you, is all.” You shrugged as you set Oatmeal down on the ground. He took a careful step towards Tom before hissing again.

“He did it again!” Tom jumped into your arms in the style of Shaggy and Scooby. “He called me a slur.”

“No he didn’t.” You laughed as you set Tom down. “His treats are in the bag. Only one a day and none if he’s naughty.”

“I didn’t realize he had a setting other than naughty.” Tom sassed your cat, making him hiss once again. Tom looked at you for help and you sighed.

“Hey, behave.” You scolded Oatmeal as you stroked him. “His toys are in the bag too. He gets pretty feisty with the fish on a string so don’t go near him when he’s playing with it.”

Oatmeal jumped up on a chair and leaned towards Tom, peering at him as if extended an olive branch. Tom looked at you and you nodded, encouraging him to reach out towards the animal. Oatmeal leaned forward and sniffed Tom’s hand before snapping at him. Tom jerked his hand back and cradled it, though he wasn’t actually bitten.

“I don’t think I can do this.” Tom said suddenly. “He’s gonna put a hex on me.”

“Tom, please?” You whined when he went back on his offer. “I have to leave now and there’s no one else who can take him.”

“Give him to one of your friends.” Tom whimpered as he hid behind you. “What about Stacy? Don’t you hate her?”

“All my friends are either allergic or coming on the trip with me.” You pleaded with him.

“There has to be someone else who can watch this hell beast.” Tom spat as he shot daggers at Oatmeal. You chewed your bottom lip as you thought of way to keep him on board until something came to you.

“Well, my ex watched him a couple times.” You shrugged casually as you picked Oatmeal back up. “Maybe I can call him and-“

“I’ll watch the damn cat.” Tom cut you off, always the jealous type. “Come here baby.”

He cooed and walked towards Oatmeal, who swiped at him with his claws.

“Ah! Bitch!” He screamed and jumped away from

“Are you sure?” You innocently batted your eyelashes. “I’m sure he’d be more than happy to-“

“La la la la la.” Tom held his hands over his ears and sang loudly. “Enough about him. I’ll watch Oatmeal. It’s just two days right?”

“Four days.” You kept a smile on your face so you wouldn’t worry him.

“Four days?” He gasped. “How many people is she getting married to?”

“Just one. Who knows? If this goes well, maybe she’ll be flying out to my wedding soon.” You flirted as you held his chin between your fingers. This pulled a smile out of Tom, making him walk to you and wrap his arms around you. You fitted your face into the crook of his neck and left a kiss there, taking in your last few moments with him before you left.

“I’ll miss you, princess.” He mumbled as he rubbed soft circles onto your back.

“I’ll miss you too.” You sighed, resting your chin on his shoulder. You pulled away after a long time and kissed him, letting it linger until you couldn’t breath. You patted his cheek softly before bending down and petting Oatmeal.

“Amd I’ll miss you Mr. Fluffy Pants.” You cooed as you picked him up. “Who has the fluffiest pants?”

“I believe that’s his feline obesity.” Tom said sweetly as he narrowed his eyes at your cat.

“Funny.” You stuck your tongue out at him. “I’ll see you Wednesday.”

“Don’t be late.” He pouted, feeling his heart sink as you collected your things. You noticed his forlorn demeanor and hugged him again, taking in the scent of his cologne.

“How could I stay away from my baby?” You mumbled into his ear. You pulled away and jutted your bottom lip out before smiling wickedly.

“And I’ll miss you too.” You added as you pulled away. Tom rolled his eyes at you while you opened his door.

“Hilarious.” He replied sarcastically. “I’m laughing my-“

The door shut.

“-ass off.” He said weakly as silence settled into his home. He let out a sigh as he stared at the door, the smell of your perfume still lingering on his skin. He hated being apart from you, even if it was just for a few days. Tom’s reminiscing was cut short by a hatch meow from the floor. Tom jumped, having forgotten all about the cat he had promised to watch. Oatmeal stalked over to Tom and sat down in front of him as if to mock him.

“Listen you little whore.” Tom pointed an angry finger at the car. “I’m in charge. There will be no shenanigans this week, you hear me? Not one single shenanigan. That means no scratching the furniture, no shedding, and absolutely no napping in sunbeams. And I swear to God, if you piss on my rug, I’ll kill you. I will kill you with my bare hands. You hear me?”

The silence in the room was replaced with tension as Oatmeal silently stared at Tom with narrowed eyes. Finally, he let out a soft meow.

“Shut up.” Tom jumped again. “I’ll kill you.”

Oatmeal took another step towards Tom, making Tom take a step back. Oatmeal seemed to like this and sat down again.

“Why are you staring at me?” Tom snapped. “Do you want to fight?”

Oatmeal lifted his paw and put it back down, almost like he was stamping his foot. He let out a whine and took another step towards Tom, meowing towards the bag you had given him.

“Oh. It’s 6.” Tom realized. “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

Oatmeal meowed again, louder this time.

“Don’t use that tone with me.” Toms voice cracked. “My beloved just left and I’m very sensitive right now.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to stare at him, silently judging Tom as he wiped away a tear. Tom composed himself quickly and went over to the bag you’d left, taking out Oatmeal’s pink bowls and bag of food. Oatmeal jumped up on the counter to watch Tom as he prepared the food, both of them sneaking glances at each other every once in a while. Tom stuck his tongue out at the cat before setting his food on the ground.

“Here you go, fatass.” Tom snapped, taking a step back when Oatmeal walked over to the bowl. Oatmeal sniffed the food skeptically before looking up at Tom as if he was waiting for something.

“I’m not scratching you behind the ears.” Tom scoffed with hands on his hips. “You’re not royalty.”

Oatmeal let out a howl and pawed at the bowl, demanding his ear scratches.

“Starve, then.” Tom shrugged. “See if I care.”

Oatmeal hissed at Tom, who responded with the middle finger. He kept his middle finger up and directed at Oatmeal as he walked out of the room, going into his bed room to calm down. After five minutes of thinking, he went back to the kitchen.

“After care consideration I’ve realized Y/n will break up with me if I kill her cat, which is fair.” Tom announced as he walked to Oatmeal. “That is why I’m doing this. Not because I care about you or your well-being.”

Oatmeal meowed softly and pawed at the bowl again, making Tom roll his eyes as he crouched down.

“Here are your little bitch scratches behind your little bitch ears.” Tom grumbled as he scratched the cat. Oatmeal purred in satisfaction before eating the entirety of his bowl. Tom backed away and watched him, smiling a little at how docile he seemed. He quickly wiped the smile off his face as Oatmeal finished and looked up at him.

“I need to call my brother about a script we’re writing, not that it’s any of your business.” Tom said as he looked at the floor. “Don’t bother me while I’m on the phone.”

Oatmeal didn’t pay any attention to Tom, instead busying himself with cleaning his left paw. Tom narrowed his eyes at the cat and huffed out an angry breath.

“Whatever. I know you care You just won’t admit it because you’re jealous.” Tom laughed bitterly as he stared daggers at Oatmeal. Oatmeal continued to ignore Tom as he began licking his other paw.

“You’re jealous that I have abs and you have a flabby cat tummy that drags on the floor.” Tom continued, determined to get the cats attention. “And we both know which one Y/n prefers.”

Oatmeal flicked his eyes to Tom before lifting a leg and licking his nether regions. Tom gasped and touched a hand to his chest in offense.

“You’re disgusting.” Tom spat. “I’m leaving.”

Tom turned on his heel and heard a meow from behind him as he walked away, resembling a taunting laugh.

“Don’t follow me!” Tom called once he got to his office. He sat down at his desk and rubbed his tired eyes before dialing his brother.

Forty minutes later, Tom and Harry were knee deep in their script. They had gotten to standstill, unable to come to an agreement with where to take the story.

“Right, right.” Tom nodded as he rested his chin in his hands. “I was thinking for - - oh for Gods sake.”

Tom’s attention was claimed by Oatmeal slipping in through the crack in the door, letting out a meow to announce his presence. Harry saw Tom’s jaw clench as he stared at the cat offscreen, leaning closer to the camera to get a better look.

“Was that a cat?” Harry asked as he watched his brother swat at something to his left.

“Hey!” Tom bellowed as Oatmeal jumped up on the desk. “No feet on the table!”

“Mate, who are you yelling at?” Harry tapped the screen repeatedly to get his brothers attention.

“Oatmeal.” Tom grumbled, jerking his neck at the cat as if to challenge him to a fight.

“Y/n’s cat?” Harry chuckled, knowing all about his brothers hatred of cats. “Why is he at your place?”

“Shes at her cousins wedding this week.” Tom pouted. “I told her I’d watch the furry bastard.”

“How’s that going?” Harry smiled teasingly, already having an idea of how it was going. Before Tom could answer, Oatmeal walked in front of his phone and knocked it down with his tail. He let out a proud purr as Tom picked his phone back up.

“Shut up!” He shrieked. “I’m on the phone!”

“Tom! Stop yelling at the cat.” Harry snapped his fingers at Tom. “I asked you how it was going.”

Tom tore his eyes away from Oatmeal, who had made himself comfortable in one of Tom’s desk drawers.

“Not great, man.” Tom shook his head. “Not great.”

Monday

“I’m home.” Tom announced as he walked into his front door. “Did you kill any children and eat their souls while I was gone?”

Oatmeal didn’t come to the door right away like a dog would, making Tom worry briefly. He set his grocery bags down and knelt to the ground, patting his thighs the way he would do to call Tessa. It’s not that Tom was dying to see him, he just didn’t want to be the guy who lost his girlfriends cat. Much to his relief, Oatmeal appeared from around the corner, the bell around his neck jingling.

“There you are.” Tom sighed as he stood up. “You look like shit.”

Oatmeal hissed and pranced over to the couch, stretching out his limbs in a sunbeam before laying down. As his body his the couch, tufts of hair flew into the air. Tom’s eyes widened in surprise before running over to the couch to investigate. Even though it had been less than a day, Oatmeal had managed to get his fur all over the couch.

“Excuse me? What is this?” Tom demanded as he picked up some fur between his fingers. Oatmeal rolled onto his side and stared at Tom with unblinking eyes.

“What did I say about shedding? You think this is some brothel that you can defile with your fur? It’s not.” Tom snapped, stomping over to the hall closet to get the vacuum. He plugged it into the wall, shooting angry glared at Oatmeal every few seconds.

“Unbelievable.” Tom pretended to gag as he vacuumed up the hair. “You disgust me.”

Oatmeal flicked his tail back and forth, causing the fur Tom had missed to float into the air. Tom shook his fist at the cat before getting his food out and putting it in the bowl.

“I’m taking a shower.” He grumbled as he rinsed his hands. “Eat your damn food.”

Tuesday

“Oatmeal? Come in here.”

Tom stood with his hands on his hips, impatiently tapping his foot as he waited for the damned cat to come. When he didn’t show, Tom balled his fists in frustration and let out a silent scream.

“Oh my God. SPSPSPSPS.” Tom yelled, spit flying from his mouth as he called the cat once again. Oatmeal waltzed into the room, taking his sweet time to get to where Tom was.

“Do you want to explain to me what this is?” Tom asked angrily as he pointed to the surprise Oatmeal had left on the floor while he was working out. Oatmeal sat down and tilted his head at Tom, daring him to raise his voice.

“You’ve done it.” Tom nodded as he tightened his lips into a line. “You’ve shit on my floor.”

Oatmeal purred before turning his attention to his paw, loudly cleaning it to show Tom he had no shame.

“The disrespect you’ve shown for my hard wood is astounding.” Tom pointed a finger at him. “You’re a fiend. A sneaky, fatass little fiend.”

Oatmeal looked towards the kitchen table and meowed before looking back at Tom. He shook his body out, fur flying everywhere and settling in the air.

“Why must you insult me in this way? Why wouldn’t you go in your-“ Tom cut himself off when he looked at the litter box, still on the kitchen table where he left it. So that was what Oatmeal had been looking at.

“Oh. I told you not to put your feet on the table.” Tom realized the cat had listened to him after all. Oatmeal had pooped on the floor, but only because Tom failed to put the litter box down. Oatmeal let out a quiet meow and walked over to Tom, hitting his leg with his tail.

“No, I get it.” Tom sighed as he went to get cleaning supplies. “We were both at fault. I mean, I wasn’t the one who shit on the floor, but we both made a mistake.”

Oatmeal circled Tom’s body before taking a seat at his feet, peering up at him with wide eyes. Tom felt guilty as he looked at the animal, knowing he could never understand that he was sorry for yelling at him. He walked to the table and got the litter box, setting it down where Oatmeal could access it.

“Here.” He said softly. “Sorry about that.”

Oatmeal walked over to the box and looked up at Tom, giving Tom the impression that he was forgiven. But of course, Oatmeal still had a cold side. He hissed viciously at Tom before stepping into the littler box.

“Fine.” Tom scoffed. “I’m not sorry.”

Your cat and your boyfriend stared at each other for a long time, neither wanting to be the one to leave. That was a sign of weakness, and they were both determined to dominate the other.

“I’m getting frozen yogurt.” Tom said suddenly, unable to take the tension any longer. He grabbed his keys and left without another word.

Less than an hour later, Tom returned home with a ring of chocolate frozen yogurt around his mouth. He locked the front door and turned his light on, jumping when he saw Oatmeal sitting in the middle of the floor with a vacant stare.

“Jesus. Warn a guy, would you?” Tom rolled his eyes as he held a hand over his heart. “You could’ve given me a heart attack.”

Oatmeal stayed silent as Tom put his keys in the bowl by the door, his eyes following Tom’s every move.

“Yeah, you would’ve liked that, wouldn’t you?” Tom narrowed his eyes at Oatmeal before washing his hands in the kitchen sink. Oatmeal let out a loud hiss, making Tom jump out of his skin. He had crossed the room to get to Tom, all without making a sound, and sat himself at his feet. Tom stumbled back, only stopping when his back hit the wall. His heart pounded in his ears from the scare, and if he didn’t know any better, he could’ve sworn Oatmeal was laughing at him. Not wanting to show weakness, Tom quickly collected himself and stood up straight.

“Alright listen here you little bitch.” Tom snapped. “I don’t like you. And if I wasn’t seriously in love with your owner, I would microwave you. I would put you in the microwave and watch you rotate just like them damn rotisserie chickens until you blew up. And then I would set the microwave on fire.”

Oatmeal let out a long meow, sounding insulted by Tom’s words. His eyes softened upon hearing the hurt in the cats voice, fixing his body language to not look as menacing.

“Okay I wouldn’t do all that, but I would drive out to a really far place and leave you there. And that’s basically the same thing.” Tom shouted as he folded his arms. Oatmeal dragged his paw behind his ear and purred, taking no interest in Tom or his threats.

“Shut the fuck up.” Tom hissed. Oatmeal hissed back and swiped a paw at Tom.

“I’ll shave you.” Tom threaten as he backed away. “I will shave you bare.”

Oatmeal continued to advance on him, backing the actor into a corner.

“You don’t think I’d do it?” Tom asked with a shaky voice. “I’ll get the buzzer right now. Do you know how ugly you’ll look?”

Oatmeal stopped in his place and sat down, leaning back on his front paws to stretch.

“That’s right.” Tom laughed sharply. “You’ll look like an uncooked chicken breast. Fuck you.”

Oatmeal watched Tom curiously as he left the room, satisfied with how the conversation went.

Wednesday

Tom sat at his kitchen island, slowing sipping his fourth glass of wine. It had gotten to the point in the week where he missed you too much to do much of anything, which resulted him getting drunk early in the day. He had been locked in a staring contest with Oatmeal for quite some time, never breaking eye contact as he poured his next glass.

“What are you looking at?” Tom slurred as he brought the wine glass to his lips. Oatmeal said nothing, blinking slowly at Tom as he drank.

“So what?” Tom shrugged. “My girlfriend is gone. I can get drunk at 2 pm.”

Oatmeal tilted his head to the side, something Tom was growing to resent.

“How dare you judge me?” He spoke slowly, heavily intoxicated now. “You’re not even wearing clothes.”

Oatmeal let out a soft meow, making a smile tug at Toms lips.

“Heh heh.” He chuckled as he took another sip. “Imagine that? You’d look pretty stupid in clothes.”

Oatmeal took a few steps toward Tom, sweetly purring as he rubbed himself against Toms legs.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you stupid.” Tom said softly. “If anyone’s stupid, it’s me. I should’ve gone with Y/n. I miss her so much.”

Oatmeal peered up at Tom with kind eyes, the first docile interaction between them.

“Yeah.” Tom smiled as reached down to scratch his ears. “Me too.”

Oatmeal jumped onto the chair, and then into Toms lap, nuzzling himself against his neck. Tom happily stroked his soft fur, liking this newfound civility between them.

“This is gonna sound crazy, but what can I say? I’m a crazy guy.” Tom laughed heartily. “Do you want to drink with me? Do you just wanna go crazy and drink away the day?”

Oatmeal looked up at Tom and meowed, making Tom smile.

“Hell yeah!” He cheered. He picked Oatmeal up with one hand and grabbed the wine bottle with the other. After setting Oatmeal down on the ground, he poured wine into his water bowl.

“Wine is for cats! Wine is for people! Wine is for people and cats and people.” Tom sang happily. Oatmeal purred as he watched Tom, curious about the unknown liquid in his bowl.

“Thats right.” Tom agreed. “It’s also for church.”

Oatmeal sniffed the wine and pulled away, the sour smell sending a shiver through his body. He waltzed over to a sunbeam that was lighting up the floor and laid down, letting the sun warm his body. Tom stared at him for a moment before shrugging and laying down beside the cat.

“Do you believe in God?” Tom asked as he looked over at him. Oatmeal let out a small meow, to which Tom raised his eyebrows.

“You’re crazy, man.” Tom shook his head and patted his chest. “You’re a crazy dude.”

He laid in the sun with Oatmeal in silence for a moment, taking in the warmth from the floor.

“It’s so warm down here.” Tom sighed in content. “It’s like a hug from the sun.”

Oatmeal swatted his tail towards Tom, making Tom smile. Tom reaching over and rubbed Oatmeal’s tummy, his attention diverting to the bell on his collar. He took it between his fingers and saw your name and address engraved on it, sighing again as he was reminded about how much he missed you.

“I have to tell you man, I love her so much.” Tom pouted wistfully. “Y/n is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Tom smiled as Oatmeal purred in understanding.

“You want another drink you crazy bastard?” He asked the cat as he got off the floor. He poured some wine into his glass, and then some into Oatmeal’s already full bowl.

“Me too, man. Me too.” Tom said as he took another sip and got back on the floor.

“You know, Oatmeal isn’t that bad of a name. I can see why she named you that, though.” Tom thought out loud as he stroked the cats fur. “You’re the exact color of her favorite kind. The maple brown sugar one, you know? She gets so excited in the winter when it’s one sale. I’ve seen her clear a whole shelf into her shopping cart. And then she sits down at the table when her hair is still messy and lets it warm her up. She puts her little spoon in it and blows on it even though it’s never that hot. She’s so cute, man. I love her so much. I could watch her eat oatmeal everyday.”

Oatmeal purred as he rubbed his head against Toms hand.

“I know.” Tom chuckled. “We really are lucky.”

Tom situated himself into a more comfortable position on the floor and held his hand up, letting the sun rays shine through his fingers and illuminate the cat hair in the air.

“I gotta say, you’re really onto something with this whole napping in sunbeams deal.” Tom commented. “I’m quite enjoying this.”

Tom was too busy drinking on the floor to hear his front door open. You set your bags down and went into the living room, smiling in confusion when you saw your boyfriend and your cat on the ground.

“Tom?” You laughed at the sight. “I’m home.”

Toms eyes widened as he sprang off the floor, the wine in his glass sloshing around as he stood up.

“It was his idea!” He exclaimed, pointing an accusatory finger at your cat.

“Oh really?” You humored him. “What are you guys doing?”

“We…sunbeam.” Tom explained as he weakly pointed at the sunbeam, still too drunk to form a real sentence.

“I see.” You chuckled as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You placed a welcomed kiss to his lips, immediately tasting the bitter wine.

“Are you drunk?” You asked as you finally noticed the wine glass in his hand.

“Maybe.” Tom giggled as he struggled to stand up straight.

“Never mind that.” Your eyes shifted to Oatmeal and the vacant spot next to him that your boyfriend previously inhabited. “Were you just…cuddling my cat?”

“No.” Tom said quickly. “We were both laying there and you happened to walk in during the brief moment we touched. That’s all.”

“Why were you on the floor?” You questioned as you took the wine glass from his hand and took a sip. Tom opened his mouth but found no words coming out, opting to change the subject instead.

“Come here!” He smiled as he pulled you in for a long hug. “I missed you. Tell me all about your trip.”

“I picked up food from your favorite restaurant. Let’s eat and I’ll tell you everything.” You suggested as you pulled away.

“That sounds perfect.” He sighed, suddenly realizing how hungry he was. “I’m starved.”

You pulled him in for another kiss before bending down to greet your cat.

“Hello baby.” You cooed as you scratched behind Oatmeal’s ears. “Were you a good boy for Tom?”

“He was all right.” Tom shrugged, sending a wink to the cat. “Nothing to report.”

“You spend all that time whining about watching him but you have nothing to report?” You asked skeptically as you stood back up.

“It was pretty mellow.” Tom said dismissively, not wanting to get into the multiple fights they had. You squinted at Tom as if you didn’t believe him and folded your arms.

“Hm. Maybe he did put that hex on you after all.” You teased. “I’m gonna change real quick and move my bags.”

“Okay. I missed you.” Tom pulled you by the hand and kissed you again before you could leave the room.

“I missed you more.” You gave him another quick kiss and grimaced. “You taste like alcohol.”

“I’ll set the table, princess.” He called after you as you walked towards his bedroom.

“Thank you!” You called back.

Tom got to work setting the table and putting the bag of food near the place settings. You came back in no time in one of his large T-shirts and a pair of his boxers. Tom smiled softly, always happy to see you in his clothing.

“You look comfy.” He commented as he pulled you towards him by the waist.

“I am.” You hummed. “That was such a long flight. I don’t know why I wore jeans.”

“Well at least you’re home now. I couldn’t handle us being apart for another day.” He pouted while resting his forehead against yours.

“Me either.” You smiled at him until your eyes shifted to the wall behind him, noticing something strange right away.

“Tom?” You asked as you pulled your head back.

“Yes, love?” He answered, obviously to the concerned look on your face.

“Why is there wine in Oatmeal’s food bowl?”

Tag list 🏷

@awesomebooklover17​ @thebookwormlife​ @imanativeofswlondondahling​ @weirdr-artiest​ @serendipitous-amor​ @dummiesshort​ @foreverxholland​ @lavender-writer​ @captainmandeestudent17​ @whatareyouhidingpeter​ @takenbyheartstrings​ @ultrunning​ @imyourliquor-youremypoison​ @theolwebshooter​ @andreasworlsboring101​ @guksmyfav​ @waiting-to-be-myself​ @letsloveimagines​ @peterparkoure​ @a-villain-vying-for-attention​ @justcallmehitgirl​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @jackiehollanderr​ @tiny-friggin-human​ @mara-twins​ @iamaunicorn4704​  @maryjanee23​ @geeksareunique​ @emmamarshmellow​  @unbelievableholland​ @rebekkah4766​ @flixndchill​ @sovereignparker​ @thisisthebiplace​ @spideydobrik​ @every-marveler-ever​ @undiadeestos​ @caelestii-e​ @eridanuswave​​ @itscaminow​​ @fiantomartell​ @solarxmoonchild​ @where-art-thau-romeo​ @canyouevencauseicant​ @illwritetomorrow​ @thehappygrungelife​ @saysomethingspiderman​ @parkerboop​ @smilexcaptainx​ @quaksonhehe​ @kelieah​ @kickingn-ames​ @babeyspidey​ @seasidecrowbar​ @lovelessdagger​ @love-sick-blues​ @electraheart-3174​ @lou-la-lou​ @unbelievableholland​ @yourtypicalhotmess​ @spideyanakin​ @horanxholland​ @thesuitelifeofafangirl​ @anapocalypseinmymind​ @marshxx​ @heyheycharlatte​ @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie​ @tomshufflepuff​ @cookiemonstermusic258​ @maybemona​ @young-romanoff​ @alexxcorona113​ @spidey-reids-2003​ @lethal-wisdom​ @xo-spidey​ @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @big-galaxy-chaos​ @pandaxnienke​ @theincredibledeadlyviper​  @thestylestour​  @officialsimppage​ @mrvelscaptains​ @peterspideysstuff​ @reemusluupin​ @perspectiveparker @itstaskeen​ @itsemohours​

[lifenodaijobu]

Just a little list of my soft Draco obsession

For  @vemodalensx

Theres a few here but I’ve left some out since the list was getting a bit long. I might make another list with more.

The list separated between cute Draco and vulnerable Draco just so you can choose whether or not you want a bit of sadness with your softness ^3^

Oh and ofc it goes without saying that the whole list is Bottom Draco hehe

Cute Soft Draco

Flower Crowns (2.4k words)

It started with a single flower 🥀 Draco makes flower crowns for Harry and that is how the whole school finds out about them. A happy dose of Harry with flowers in his hair, and a smitten Draco.

Dreaming of you (21k words)

Harry has nightmares, he wishes for a night when he can sleep without nightmares. What happens when he starts dreaming of Draco Malfoy? Draco left the wizarding world after the war, he's a librarian and lives peacefully in muggle London, what happens when Harry fucking Potter shows up at his work place?

Honey (

Harry is sick of Draco's oh-so-adorable endearments.

The Care and Management of Volatile Veelas 

Harry adopts a Veela. He really didn’t mean to.

Quidditch Wife (Part 2)

Theres no real summary for this except for  It's got all my favourite guilty pleasures, like protective!Harry and vulnerable!Draco, with a side of jealous!Harry and SportyQuidditch!Harry (and I think the top!Harry rather goes without saying).

All our pieces....fall right into places series

The first story:  Draco had had a crush for a while and now that he had Harry in his bed...He was everything that Draco needed.

Trick or Treat

Harry had no idea that he was such a fetishist - a fact which he discovers on Halloween.

Pretty

Harry finds a pair of stockings in the back of their dresser.

The Sweater

After being forced to room together in 8th year, Draco and Harry become friends and decide to continue their living arrangements post Hogwarts. The only problem is, Draco can't seem to stop stealing Harry's clothes.

1095 Roses for a life time

Being woken up by the lips of your boyfriend is always a nice surprise, especially on the morning of yours third anniversary of dating, which leads to hot and passionate morning activity. But all this is just to indulge in themselves, Harry's surprise includes roses and a promise for a lifetime. Will they be the right choice?

Get your kinks out

Harry plays seeker for the Magpies, and he discovers that one of his teammates secretly wears lace panties. What begins as a sexual relationship becomes increasingly complicated by Harry’s fame, Draco’s family, and Harry’s ambivalent feelings about dominating Draco.

Can’t say no

Draco really has the worst friends. When they put a spell on him that he has to say no to everything Harry says.....things don't turn out well.

OR

That time when Harry proposes and gets turned down because of his horrible friends.

What Draco wants

Out of anything a petty fight with Harry Potter could have led to, Draco Malfoy least expected it to end with him bent over a table, questioning his relationship and feelings for Potter, and having the best sex of his life.

Criminal

Things were going just fine for Draco Malfoy. He successfully conned and counted cards across Europe and America, amassing a small fortune, along with a lengthy rap sheet. That was until he made the grave mistake of returning to England for a high stakes card game and got himself caught – by Harry Potter no less. Now, Draco is stuck in England under Auror Potter’s guard with no friends, no distractions, and no escape. How the hell will he pass the time? And since when did Potter get so bloody fit? 

Things Change

Harry and Draco's friends notice something different about them when they fight. See what they find out when they walk down an empty hallway. 

Whats a little veritasium between two sworn enemies?

Draco Malfoy has a nasty habit of always coming across such bad luck no matter where circumstance presents itself and unfortunately that doesn't seem to change when his bloody nemesis Harry Potter over hears him talking about Veritaserum potions in the hallways past curfew. ( It was Pansy fault really)

Harry wants to know what the Slytherin boy is up to, especially with how nervous Malfoy is, but is that ALL Harry wants to know?

Mr Right Now - side note: Cedric/Draco

What do you do when you're feeling down about your ex? Make him jealous! Story features Cedric Diggory and Draco Malfoy trying to win back their loves, but somehow end up falling into each other's arms

For the love a kitten 

With Voldemort Dead, life is not easy for Harry as Old friends become enemies and old enemies become friend. With the return of three Slytherins, Harry life is turned upside down.

How to prepare for a wedding night

I have a neighbour. He is stuck in a loveless relationship and an arranged marriage. He has zero experience in bed. He needs my help so that his love life won't suck for the next few decades. He needs a sex teacher. Oh... and the neighbour happens to be Draco freaking Malfoy. And I might be a little tiny bit in love with the git...

Draco's Scent

In which Harry can't be around Draco for long without the boy's stupid smell messing with his mind, and he really, really hates that.

Turn The Heat Up

Wonky Cooling Charms result in interesting revelations

Flirt

Draco and Hermione make a devastating duo at the Ministry as the respective Department Heads of Wizarding Culture Preservation and Muggle Relations. When Harry Potter gets involved in their latest joint project, Draco can’t seem to stop himself from constantly flirting with him even when it doesn’t seem to affect the golden boy at all. He’s wrong. Harry is most definitely affected. Includes Slytherin shenanigans, Draco sucking at quidditch, and Harry trying not to be charmed. Draco POV.

Angsty/Vulnerable Soft Draco

The Draco Malfoy incident - side note: I cried big time

Draco Malfoy is best friends with a Hufflepuff. A HUFFLEPUFF! He's also partnered with a redhead git, trying to hide from an obsessive green-eyed saviour and has become overly fond with sunrises. It's exhausting. Can't a man plan an assassination in peace around here?

I’m not in your dreams

Draco has dreamt with Harry's voice since he was fourteen, so there's no doubt for him about who his soulmate is. Now, in their Eighth Year, Harry has finally dreamt with his soulmate's voice too. The problem is that Draco was born mute.

Yours for the taking

Draco was raised to be the perfect Omega, but there are things even he cannot endure. When he discovers just what Tom Riddle's plans for him are once he's claimed him he is confronted with an impossible decision. Only one thing remains clear: he will never be able to go back home.

Luckily, Harry Potter is there to save the day

Rough on you - side note: Dark Harry. This is more vulnerable Draco than soft Draco so please read the tags before you start the story :) I was unsure whether I wanted to add this here but hey-ho

"I'm the only one that can give you want you really want." Harry spun Draco around and held his arms at his side and he pressed against his back, whispering against his throat. "That can force you, that can humiliate you… that can hurt you, and you want it. You want me."

Harry is having a bad day. Draco just cannot learn to keep his mouth shut. Neither of them would have predicted it would lead to this.

But who guards the dragon?

This is an expansion of my one-shot, It'll be Okay. You don't have to read it first, it will be in the story. Requested. DMHP Sub/Dom relationship. Slash. Don't like, don't read. Harry thinks a few thinks through, then comes into his creature inheritance. He finds out that he is the dominant mate to one Draco Malfoy. But things are never easy for the boy who lived

Taken For Granted

Having pined for Harry for long enough, Draco decided that it was time to give up and move on. What happens when Harry realizes too late what he's lost?

Mourning

Harry returns to school to complete his NEWTs. There he finds a much changed Draco Malfoy and surprisingly subdued Professor Snape.

In your arms, rests my world

Harry presses his mouth to Malfoy's forehead; he wants to tell him that he’ll never leave, that he wouldn’t dream of it.

“You make me feel safe, Potter” Malfoy whispers. “You keep me safe.”

Inside your mind

Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

"I'll Protect You," and you can seal that with an Unbreakable Vow

His friends may tease but Harry doesn't feel bad for keeping a close eye on the Slytherin boy of one Draco Malfoy, after all someone has to do it. So when Harry secretly follows the pure-blood boy out past the courtyard, there's nothing strange or unusual about it; nor is it wrong.

Unfortunately the same can not be said for the scenario Harry accidentally stumbles upon as he can't help but stare in horror. It's not just wrong. It's absolutely despicable and Harry, well, Harry just has to do something about it.

A Big Black Sky

Draco shifts his head as he turns to look at Scorpius, his cheek touching the pillow. "Did you know that…" He pauses, his throat convulsing, and it sounds audible in the silence, besides Michael's steady, even breathing from the other bedroom.

Scorpius is staring back at him, in wait of something new to learn, a beautiful and intelligent child. He has Draco's mind. He has Draco's eyes and nose and mouth and hair. He is his. All his. All he has of Michael are his wild curls and the green of his eyes, and sometimes he looks into them and imagines that they aren't Michael's, but someone else's.

Draco leans his head closer, biting the quiver out of his lips before he breathes a laden and shuddering exhale, and he whispers, "You are my star in a big black sky."

Song To Say Goodbye

Draco should have remembered that life doesn’t always turn out the way you want it to. Somewhere along the way he forgot to always be careful and was left with nothing. It was hard enough getting himself together the first time, can he do it again?

Small spoiler for Song to Say Goodbye below

Its not Drarry Endgame: he ends up with a OMC cuz Harrys a big dickhead

[mcwriting]

The Marriage Project (11)

I'm baaaaack :) Sorry it's been so long y'all but I'm finally on break so hopefully I can push out more content soon! Pls enjoy!

Masterlist

Word Count: 2130

Warnings: little bit of language, mild mentions of alcohol

% approximately the last weekend of October/first week of November %

Sunday, you went wedding dress shopping.

Kinda.

It was for homecoming court. Your school had a tradition where the ladies in the running for queen wore white wedding dresses, so your mom and you went out in search of one.

You’d already gotten your dress for the actual dance weeks prior, so you started at the same store.

It didn’t take long for you to stumble upon one you liked, a slim a-line that accentuated your muscles and curves. There was a draped neckline and a somewhat low back. The entire dress had a grecian feel with the small silver accents dusted across it.

The second you put it on you fell in love, so you made the purchase and set off for shoes, easily finding a pair of heels that would put you at a similar level with Tom.

The next day, you made your way to class for another round of praise and congratulations for the tournament that weekend. The trophy was already sitting in the school display case, the plaque yet to be made with your school’s name and the year.

It was spirit week, so everyone was dressed in clothes that fit the day’s theme.

All morning, people were coming up and asking you about the tournament and homecoming, many of them pledging to vote for you.

Things felt nice.

You and Tom didn’t talk much throughout the morning, but exchanged a few jabs and laughs here and there.

Later, you sat around the lunch table with your girlfriends as usual, this time discussing the homecoming nominations.

“Y/n, there’s literally no way you won’t be queen. I’ve talked to a ton of people and all of them are saying they’re gonna vote for you,” one of them said.

“Aw shucks, you’re making me blush. Obviously I’d like to win queen, but we’ll see. It’s whatever. If Harrison wins king I’ll drop out.”

“As if. No one even likes him. I’m pretty sure he was voted in as a meme. Everyone knows Tom is gonna win,” Alexis stated. “And if Tom wins, you’ll win too with everyone thinking you’re together.”

“Hmm. I honestly hope Tuwaine gets the vote. He’s so sweet and totally deserves it.”

“I think we all know you’d prefer Tom as your royal counterpart,” one friend suggested, causing you to roll your eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you guys! Nothing is going on! On another note, though, I got my white dress,” you mentioned, trying to steer the conversation away.

“Really? Let us see!” Caroline exclaimed.

“Ah, ah, ah. I’m saving it as a surprise for Friday. The only person who’s seen it is my mom, and it’s staying that way until the parade.”

You continued talking about the upcoming festivities and your excitement for the week, and the announcement of who would be crowned queen Friday at the pep rally.

That afternoon, you went to study hall with Alexis. Now that you were between sports, you had a free period to go do art, work out, or just “study,” so you chose the latter as a way to take a breather from everything that had been going on.

“So tell me everything about Johnny’s this weekend. Loved the costumes,” you started as you plopped down at two desks in the very back of the room.

“Not much to report. We mostly just hung out but I heard one dude had to go get his stomach pumped or something after the cops got there. We dipped out before it was busted because it was obvious they were coming. Now how was your weekend, since we’re finally alone?”

You thought about how much you’d actually tell her, especially considering that you hadn’t told her really anything about yours and Tom’s interactions in past weeks.

“Pretty good. It was mostly just volleyball.”

“Oh yeah? What all went down with Tom? Anna told me you seemed pretty close.”

Your face burned.

“We hugged after winning the tournament. Not a big deal. Oh and we maybe kinda pretended to be a couple Friday night.”

“What? You didn’t think to lead with that?!”

“It was for like a minute while we went up the elevator. This drunk couple was harassing us so we just played along for a little bit. Whatever,” you shrugged.

“Did you do anything couple-y? Don’t tell me you guys kissed.”

You tried not to cringe before somewhat telling a lie.

“I kissed him on the cheek and he put his arm around me. I swear it was nothing serious, Lex.”

“Hm. I still think you’ve gotta be hiding something, but I just don’t know what. And I’m gonna get to the bottom of it.”

Good luck with that. I’m not about to crack yet.

%

Spirit week continued with people coming up to let you know their votes had been cast for you. The voting ended Thursday so that votes could be counted before the pep rally.

When Friday did hit, you woke up early and tucked your volleyball jersey into some jeans and tossed on your letter jacket, as the day’s theme was school colors and jerseys.

You popped on some mascara and lip gloss, then headed to school, becoming more nervous as you got closer.

The pep rally would be right after lunch, but almost everyone was so excited for the weekend festivities that teachers basically gave everyone a free day so that the students in charge of the event could continue their planning and the athletes could prepare for the rally.

The pep rally was mostly for the football game, but they were also going to recognize the volleyball team’s accomplishments, so you prepared for that and the whole homecoming court thing.

In home ec, Mrs. Flynn let those that needed to help set up for the pep rally eat your lunches in class and then leave early.

You and Tom finished about the same time and went to your lockers to grab your things.

“Ready to win?” Tom asked as you walked towards the gym.

“Nope. You?”

“Yeah, actually. Maybe it’s just because I love winning so much.”

You gave him a little shove as you continued walking. Tom had his jersey on without the pads, so it fit big on him. You admired the way it draped over his thin, toned frame.

A bit later and the pep rally had begun with the dance team doing their routine, then came athlete recognitions.

They started with the volleyball team, calling you all out to the basketball court to wave as everyone cheered. After you all, the cheer squad hyped everyone up for the football team to come out.

You stood in a corner of the gym with Zendaya, as they would be announcing the homecoming court next. You both talked a little bit, but things were somewhat awkward.

Finally came the time to announce the winners. As with nominations, things went in order from freshman to senior, eventually reaching the king and queen announcement. The six of you stepped out onto the basketball court, the pit in your stomach bigger than before.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen, I know that this is the moment you have all been waiting so patiently for!” Mrs. Johnson looked around the bleachers at the cheering students, holding up her paper with everyone’s positions.

“We’re going to start with our third place, the duke and duchess of homecoming! May I have a drumroll please!”

Everyone stomped their feet and clapped.

“This year’s duke is Mr. Harrison Osterfield, and the duchess is Daisy Ridley!”

Cheers went up, not completely enthusiastic for the pair. You felt a little bit of satisfaction knowing the people you liked least had gotten third place.

“Now for our runners up, the prince and princess!” She paused for effect. “Tuwaine Barrett and Zendaya Coleman!”

More cheers rang out than before. Your jaw dropped as you looked at Tom.

“And that means that your senior king and queen are Tom Holland and y/n y/l/n! Congratulations to all of you. Can’t wait to see you at the parade, game, and dance!” Mrs. Johnson called out, dismissing everyone back to class.

Someone came and placed the crown on your head and slipped a silver sash which read “homecoming queen” over your body. You couldn’t help but slap a hand over your mouth.

“What did I tell you! I knew you’d win!” Tom exclaimed, holding out his hands. You so badly wanted to hug him, but decided not to in front of the whole school, at least not until tomorrow night.

Your friends rushed up and congratulated you, fawning over the crown and sash and laughing. Before you left, you had to return the two items to a teacher so you would have them for later that night.

As you left school that afternoon, you felt like you were floating on air.

%

You were back at the school later that evening, the game just over a couple hours away. There were families lining the street prepared to watch the parade make its way down.

Since leaving the school before, you’d put your hair in loose curls and done a full face of makeup. You tossed on some sweats and zipped up your varsity jacket, taking your dress and shoes along in the car to change there.

You waited until the last minute to slip on the outfit, causing people to fawn over you when you stepped outside to see everyone who was waiting.

Someone pinned the crown to your head and helped you slip on the sash, then led you to the convertible where Tom was waiting. You’d get to ride around sitting on the back waving like you’d always dreamed of doing.

Your heels clacked on the sidewalk as you confidently stepped. Sure, you didn’t wear heels much, but you sure knew how to work them.

It felt like slow motion when Tom turned around and you saw each other for the first time. He was wearing slacks and a sport coat and his curls were perfectly placed around his own crown. You both gasped a little.

“Y/n! You look… you look like-”

“Let me guess. A princess?” you smirked, raising a brow.

“I was gonna say queen.”

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, giving him a little shove. He helped you climb into the back of the car, and someone went to hand you his letter jacket.

“What’s this for?” you asked.

“Usually if it’s cold the queen wears her partners’ letterman over her shoulders if he has one.”

You thought about it. It was pretty chilly, after all.

“You don’t have to wear mine, y/n. Did you bring yours?” Tom asked, making you smile.

“Yeah, actually. I did. Would someone mind going and grabbing it from my stuff? It’s just inside.”

One girl ran and brought it back in a few minutes, and Tom helped drape it over just your shoulders.

“That’s more like it,” he said, giving you a smile as he fixed the neck.

A few minutes later, the cars and floats began moving and families cheered as you passed, waving with a smile on your face.

You and Tom talked to each other quietly as you looked around both sides of the street. When you reached the end, someone had you pose for a couple pictures in the daylight before the football players headed off to get ready for the game.

This was not only homecoming, but senior night, so they all wanted to be on their A-game.

Different people came up to congratulate you and you took pictures with friends, family, and even a few little kids. You were talking with the girls when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

You turned around to find the Holland family, including Nikki’s parents and a woman you assumed to be Dominic’s mom.

“Well I sure am glad to see that people have some decent sense around here,” Grandma said, giving you a warm smile. You gave her a hug then greeted the rest of the family.

“You look beautiful, dear. Congratulations,” said Nikki as she gave you a squeeze.

“Oh, y/n, this is my mother,” Dom explained, gesturing to another elderly woman.

“Just call me Nana, dear. I’ve heard a lot about you.” You smiled as she held your hands in hers.

“Thank you! Tom’s told me about you, too.”

Nikki shot some pictures of you with their family. It felt weird to be in their photos without Tom, but also comfortable, like you’d known them your whole life. You had to hold back a laugh when you took one kissing Paddy’s cheek and making him blush.

Eventually your parents also came over and talked to them, and everyone made their ways to the stadium.

%

A/N: omg it's been way too long since I updated TMP! I just wanted to pre-warn that next chapter will have the heaviest themes of this story. It will have adequate warnings but I want to make everyone aware!

Thanks for reading!

Send a message or ask if you’d like to be added to my permanent or series taglists so I can verify you’ve been added!

Story tag list: @jackiehollanderr, @one-big-fangirl, @l0lmk, @primadonnasdream, @bookworm06, @thenoddingbunny-blog, @agentnataliahofferson, @spider-babe, @stxfxniexreads, @justafangirlduh, @supraveng

[honey-dewey]

Here Comes the Bride (and the Boys)

Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/Reader

Word Count: 2,039

Warnings: None!

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

You’re is getting married! But, to get married, you need a dress. And instead of family at the dress appointment, the Reader brings some rather unusual guests. Her fiancé’s three weird best friends. 

“First of all, you’re wrong!”

You laughed, bent in half and gripping the dashboard for support as Benny and Will argued in the backseat. You were taking the boys dress shopping, and you hadn’t anticipated the disaster that would be the Miller brothers sitting in the car together.

“Fuck you, a single Twinkie is absolutely bite sized!” Benny said angrily, taking a Twinkie out of his pocket and ripping the package open. “See?” And then he stuffed it in his mouth, proving that it was, in fact, one bite.

Will laughed, punching his brother lightly. “You’re disgusting. We are on our way to a distinguished wedding dress appointment and you’re here stuffing your face with twinkies.”

Santiago, who had the misfortune of driving, sighed. “Lord help me,” he said, turning into the parking lot of the bridal place. “I am surrounded by morons.”

Still smiling, you texted Frankie, who was sitting at home and trying to decide what the wedding’s color scheme would be.

You: Your bffs are fucking idiots

Goldfish: I’m sorry?

You: Benny just ate a whole ass Twinkie in one bite

Goldfish: Wow. Tell him he’s disgusting

You: Will already did. Gtg, we’re there

Goldfish: love you

You: Love you too babe

Getting out of the car, you suddenly rethought your decision to bring the boys to help you choose a wedding dress. But you really didn’t want to do it alone and no one in your family could make it. So you’d grabbed what you hoped was the next best thing. Frankie’s friends.

But it was too late. You pulled the door to the place open and walked in, smiling at the receptionist. “Hello! I’m here for an appointment.”

The receptionist eyed your group and nodded. “Of course. Last name?”

“Morales.” Technically that wasn’t your last name yet, but you’d been engaged for almost a year now and using Frankie’s last name just felt natural.

Once you were checked in, you waited on a couch with the boys.

“So what kind of dress are you getting?” Benny asked, looking at a dress that looked, and this was the nice way of saying it, like an overly decorated pastry.

“Not that,” you said. “I dunno. Maybe A-line? The last fancy thing I wore was when Frankie and I went out to that restaurant last New Years, but that had no back, and I’m not going that slutty for my wedding day.”

Will snorted. “Okay. So the requirements are currently as follows. It must have a back, and it cannot be, in your words, slutty.”

“It has to be white,” you added. “And I want a floor length dress.”

“Well that’s not enough to work off of.”

You shrugged. “It’s what I got.”

Your consultant came in at that point. “Oh! Well, I guess I don’t have to ask who’s the bride!” She said. “I’m Zoe. Who’d you bring with you? Any family?”

“Nope!” You said, looking at the boys. “These are my fiancé’s three best friends, Santiago, Benny, and William.”

Zoe nodded. “Okay. How long have you been engaged?”

You shrugged. “A year, give or take. My fiancé, Frankie, was military until about four months ago, when he went on his last mission.” You could still remember how defeated he’d been coming home, the pain in his eyes as he told you about Tom and everything else. “We’re getting married in September.”

“Awesome!” Zoe said. “So, budget?”

“Frankie and I put aside about two thousand.”

Zoe nodded again. “And are we looking for any specific style of dress?”

You shook your head. “Nope. I just know I want it a bit more conservative, but not something that covers every inch of skin I’ve got.”

“Okay then,” Zoe said. “Let’s go look at some dresses!”

Unsurprisingly, the boys were apprehensive about this part. Benny was the first to recover, happily diving in and pulling a few dresses to ask you about them. Once he found his groove, Will and Santi quickly followed suit.

“What about this?” Santi asked, showing you a dress.

“Eh,” you said, looking over. “I don’t like that feathery bit on the bottom.”

It was interesting, shopping for a wedding dress. You’d only wear it once, but it was so damn important. You passed over dress after dress, dismissing most of them. Eventually, after a fair amount of searching, you and the boys had picked out a few dresses that were all decent contenders.

Trying the dresses on, that was a completely different story. The first dress Zoe brought you, which was one of Santi’s picks, was gorgeous, and actually made your tear up a bit.

“Oh dear, tears already?” Zoe asked, handing you a tissue.

“I just,” you said weakly, wiping your eyes. “I love Frankie so much, and I can’t believe after everything we’ve been through, I’m finally able to officially call him mine.”

Zoe rubbed your back. “I get it hon,” she consoled. “He must be one hell of a man.”

“Oh he definitely is.”

After a few more minutes of admiring the dress and composing yourself, you walked out to show the boys.

Immediately, they went quiet, admiring your dress. You stood on a small pedestal, turning and admiring the dress in the big mirror. “I like it.”

“But?” Santiago prompted.

“I don’t get that big wow feeling,” you finished, almost guilty. “Sorry Santi.”

Santiago shook his head. “It’s okay,” he promised. “But you do like it?”

You nodded, swishing the dress around. “Yeah. It’s got the right amount of pop.”

“Pop?” Benny asked.

“Details,” you elaborated, running a hand along the subtly flowered waistline. “Flair. Call it whatever. And the shape is nice.”

Will nodded. “The sleeves aren’t your thing, are they?”

“Yeah, absolutely not.” You put a finger under the short sleeve. “It’s tight across the shoulders and I feel like I can’t lift my arms.”

“So no short sleeves?” Santiago asked.

“We can eliminate short sleeves,” you decided.

The next few dresses were all like the first. Decent and very pretty, but not your dress. You managed to eliminate a few other things you weren’t too fond of, like the super tight mermaid dresses and the overly poofy princess dresses. Sleeveless was still on the table, but you were hesitant about that. The boys gave amazing criticism, and no one started any drama, which was nice. But still, you found yourself wishing Frankie were here. He’d know exactly what to recommend. You could almost hear him whispering in your ear as you examined yet another not right dress.

“I’m sure you’ll get it eventually, margarita.”

You sighed, deeming the dress a flop and heading back to try something else on.

And then you passed a dress on the way back to the changing room that made you stop in your tracks.

“What is it?” Zoe asked, stopping right behind you.

“What’s that?” You asked, pointing to the dress.

Zoe followed your finger. “Oh. That’s a dress we just got. It’s from a small designer who specializes in unique dresses.”

“Can I try it on?” You asked, still mesmerized.

“Sure.” Zoe grabbed the dress. “It’s not floor length though.”

You shrugged, still watching the dress with nothing short of awe. “I’m willing to bend for this dress.”

The dress fit you perfectly, and when you turned around to look at it for the first time, you were dead silent for a whole minute before starting to cry again.

“Still good tears?” Zoe asked hopefully, helping you step back into your white flats.

“This is my dress,” you said softly. “This is my dress.”

Zoe smiled. “It looks really good on you,” she said. “Shall we show the boys?”

You nodded, smoothing your hands down the textured fabric of the skirt.

Walking out to show the boys was the hardest thing you’d done in a while. The dress was perfect, it was definitely the one, but what if they didn’t agree?

You heard gasps from the group when you stepped onto the pedestal, back facing them.

“So?” Zoe prompted. “What do you think?”

“It’s my dress,” you said yet again. “It’s perfect.”

“It is,” Santiago agreed. “C’mon, turn for us, let us see.”

You turned, facing the boys.

Immediately, Benny, who was smiling, threw his hands up. “Okay, so we threw all the rules out for this dress.”

You laughed, feeling the skirt swish around your calves. “It’s perfect Benny. I had to break the rules for the daisies.”

“I don’t get it,” Benny said, leaning back. “Why daisies?”

“That’s what Frankie calls me,” you said softly. “I’m his margarita. It’s Spanish for daisy.”

You turned to examine the dress again. It was still white, which would placate your mother and gave you that bride feeling in the pit of your stomach. But the thing that sold you was the thin layer of sheer white fabric on top, the layer with the small daisies on it. The sleeves were nice, loose without being a hazard and tight without being too restricting. The V neck was modest enough for a wedding, and the smooth white ribbon around your natural waist really helped define the shape of the dress.

Zoe came out with a matching flower crown and placed it on your head, causing you to tear up when you faced yourself in the mirror again.

“Oh honey,” Santiago said, standing and wrapping you in a hug. “Is it group hug time?”

You nodded, feeling the warm embrace of the boys around you. “Thank you,” you said softly, surrounded by friends. “My mother would’ve had an aneurysm if I tried this on for her.”

Benny laughed, rubbing your back. “We get it,” he said. “And trust us, Fish is gonna adore it.”

Seven months later, you were freaking out, trying not to cry in your small tent, twenty minutes before you were supposed to walk down the aisle.

“What if he doesn’t show up?” You asked one of your bridesmaids, Luca. “What if he doesn’t wanna get married anymore?”

Luca put her hands on your shoulders. “Hey. I’m sure he’s just as nervous as you, and I’m absolutely positive he’s sticking around.”

You took a breath, anxiety spiking again as a knock echoed on the door.

“Can we come in? We have a gift for the bride.”

You eagerly accepted the boys in, embracing them each in turn.

“You look like a goddess,” Will complimented, holding you at arm’s length and smiling. “He’s so nervous.”

“Told you so!” Luca shouted.

Benny laughed. “He told us to give you this.”

You took the small box, opening it hesitantly and pressing a hand to your mouth before the tears bubbled over. It was a necklace, nothing seemingly expensive or fancy. It had a thin silver chain, and on the end of the chain was a circle of resin, no bigger than a quarter, with a beautiful pressed daisy in it.

Luca helped you slip the necklace over your head. The daisy pendant sat on your skin, just above the V neck, barely visible.

“Are you ready?” Santiago asked, placing the necklace box down.

You nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”

The next almost half hour of waiting was agony. You texted Frankie, both of you anxious and both of you very ready for the ceremony to be over. Then, Frankie stopped responding, and you heard the music. It was time.

You father took your arm and guided you out of the tent, into the park you’d picked for the venue. Plenty of people were waiting for you, but you only had eyes for one of them.

Frankie turned, his entire face lighting up as he saw you walking towards him. He looked amazing, all clean and neat in a suit with a small daisy tucked into his lapel. He wasn’t wearing his hat, but you almost wished he was. He’d shaved, but that tiny spot where he constantly complained about the lack of facial hair was still there and obvious.

You father smiled, placing your hands in Frankie’s. He squeezed them, and you felt pure joy humming through your veins. You were getting married.

“Ready?” Frankie asked you softly, so softly you almost didn’t hear him.

You didn’t even hesitate to answer. “I’m ready.”

[cali-holland]

Forever and Ever, Ch. 1: The Proposal

Tom Holland X Osterfield!Reader, Wedding Series

With the help of Harrison and Charlotte, Tom picks out the perfect ring for you, and now the time’s come for the perfect proposal.

Warnings: sexual themes, swearing, a lil bit of blood/violence and kind of an abusive ex? (it’s a flashback though)

Word Count: 4100

Series Masterlist

Masterlist   Tom Holland Masterlist

“We keep this love in a photograph

We made these memories for ourselves

Where our eyes are never closing

Hearts are never broken

And time's forever frozen still

So you can keep me inside the pocket of your ripped jeans

Holding me closer 'til our eyes meet

You won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home”

Photograph, Ed Sheeran

~~~

“How’s the online shopping coming?” Harrison asked, strolling into the living room when he knew you were away at work the next day. Tom let out a frustrated groan, throwing his head back on the couch.

“There’s too many choices! I don’t understand how there can be so many shapes.” Tom stated and Harrison sat beside him to look at the engagement ring website on Tom’s laptop.

“I believe they’re called cuts.” He laughed, looking over the categories and images. “God, you’re right. How are there so many options?”

“This makes no sense.” He sighed, “How do I know which one Y/N would like the most?”

“Might sound cheesy, but I think she’d say yes even if you gave her the shittiest ring.”

“Well, that’s helpful.” Tom rolled his eyes at his friend.

“Why not go in person tomorrow? Y/N will be at work anyway.” Harrison suggested, standing from the couch.

“I don’t really want paparazzi to find out, but I guess I have no choice.” He paused, “Do you think you could come with me?”

Harrison laughed, turning back to his friend. “You’re talking to the wrong sibling. I’ll call Charlotte and see if she can go with you.”

By the time you got home from work, Tom had cleared out his search history to make sure there was no evidence of his ring shopping. You had no clue anything was up, even when you saw that your younger sister texted him while you two got ready for bed that evening.

Spotting his phone light up on the bedside table just as you were about to get into bed, you asked, “Why did Charlotte text you?”

“Probably just asking if I’m back home. I think Harrison said something about your mum inviting me over for dinner this week.” He lied with a shrug as he climbed into bed on the opposite side. While his room (which was actually your room as well) was big, it still only had one night stand on your side of the bed. Any other night, Tom wouldn’t care about it, trusting you completely with his phone, but now he was worried you’d get curious and check Charlotte’s texts. It wasn’t that strange for Charlotte to text him when he got back into town, but he got lucky by remembering Harrison’s mention of family dinner plans, something he’s gotten accustomed to at the Osterfield household.

“Oh yeah, she did tell me that. Friday, right? I just assumed you’d be free.” You laughed, making yourself comfortable under the covers by snuggling into Tom’s warm embrace. “If you don’t want to-“

“No, of course I’d love to. Your family’s my family.” He reached up and knocked on the wall behind him, just for Harrison, whose bed was on the other side of the wall, to hit the wall back. “See?”

Through your fit of laughter, you managed to say, “God, he’s going to think we’re going at it.”

“Hm, well, why don’t we?” Tom winked at you, his trailing down your waist.

“As much as I missed you, I’ll pass. One of us actually went to work today.” You teased, nuzzling your face into his neck and pressing a chaste kiss to his sweet spot. “Besides, I’m still sore from last night.”

“That good, huh?” He smirked and you leaned up to kiss him.

“Watch it, Holland.” You joked, and he couldn’t help but think that one day you’d have that last name too. Tom pulled you closer to him, intertwining your left hand with his, as you laid down with your head on his chest. As you drifted off to sleep, he mindlessly traced over your ring finger, mind racing with what the perfect ring would look like right in that very spot.

The next day, you went away to work as usual, and Tom put on his most incognito outfit- dark hoodie, dark jeans, sunglasses (though it wasn’t actually too bright out), dark baseball cap. He was completely unrecognizable for the paparazzi.

“Why are you dressed like that?” Harrison asked as he and Tom got in the car because, while Harrison still felt that Charlotte was the better sibling to ask for help, he wanted to go as moral support for his best friend. You know, best man duties and all that. In his casual white t-shirt and jeans, he looked the exact opposite of Tom.

“I’m not having anyone recognize. Not today.” Tom insisted.

“Whatever you say.” He laughed.

The two of them met Charlotte at the ring shop, after they parked a little ways away (because Tom didn’t want his car to be parked right in front of the store- that’s too “obvious”, according to him). Charlotte, just as Harrison had, commented on his rather dull outfit, but yet again, he always wore black in some form. Despite their fashion remarks, Tom was glad to have your siblings with him, or rather his future in-laws, you just didn’t know that yet.

“What about this one?” Charlotte asked, pointing to yet another ring. She’d shown Tom nearly a dozen rings that she thought you’d like, meanwhile Tom was overwhelmed by the choices. They lost Harrison to the men’s section shortly after walking inside because he wanted more.

“I don’t know. This is all so much.” Tom sighed, looking at the pretty engagement ring in the glass case. It was delicate and beautiful, but he still didn’t know. He had been told that the ring will “speak” to him, that he’ll just know when he sees it. He wished it was as easy as knowing you were the one for him; all it took was one glance at you and he knew he wanted to be with you forever. You were his forever.

After what must have been the twentieth “what do you think of this one?” from Charlotte (which he did deeply appreciate her help), Tom was ready to give up hope on this store. Maybe this store didn’t have the perfect ring. Shoving his hands in his hoodie’s pocket, he scanned over the rings again, the shiny silver beginning to blur together.

“Check this out.” Harrison called to them from across the store.

“Haz, mate, I don’t want to look at one of your rings.” Tom answered, running a hand over his face.

“No, you div. I like this ring for Y/N.” He replied, and both Tom and Charlotte immediately came over to him. Sitting in front of Harrison, in the back corner of the case, was the most perfect ring Tom had ever seen. He was speechless, and he knew it was the one.

“Can we see that one please?” Charlotte asked the worker, reading Tom’s slacked jaw expression as one of pure amazement. The worker pulled out the ring from behind the glass, and Harrison and Charlotte both exchanged a look of ‘that’s it’ while Tom examined it.

“Yes. That’s the one.” Tom nodded, and the two siblings let out their bated breaths in relief. As Tom and the worker settled out the measurements and price, Harrison waited with his sister by the door.

“And now he just needs to propose.” Charlotte laughed.

“I bet he’s going to faint before he even gets the words out. Y/N will just have to piece it together.” Harrison joked.

“Do you know how he’s doing it?” She asked.

“Oh yeah, she’s so going to cry.” Harrison watched the cashier slide the pink ring box over to Tom, finalizing the deal, and he felt a wave of pride overcome him. His two favorite people in the world were getting married; he wasn’t sure if he’d make it through this without shedding a few happy tears himself.

~~~

Tom let out a sigh, taking a step back to examine his bedroom. From the Christmas lights strung around the room to the bed sheet hanging on the wall across from the projector, everything was perfect. There were even a few rose petals scattered on the floor. He ran a nervous hand through his hair, his other hand slipping into his pocket to fish out the little pink box. Opening the box, his heart started to beat impossibly faster. It had only been two days since he bought it, but he felt like he could stare at it forever, and, well, if you said yes, then he’d gladly stare at it forever.

“Y/N,” He mumbled under his breath, beginning to pace a little. Another deep breath escaped his lips as he continued quietly rehearsing, “Y/N Osterfield, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

Tom had never jumped so high in his life, but he eased up immediately when he realized it was just Harrison in the doorway, arms crossed as he took in the new look to Tom’s room.

“So? How does it look?” Tom asked, closing the box and pocketing it once more. His hand remained in his pocket, thumbing over the object, like he was worried the box would vanish into thin air. He felt his hands start to shake a little at the unimpressed look on Harrison’s face.

“Like you’re going to be engaged by the end of the night.” He said encouragingly, unable to hide his happy smile any longer. “Now, come on, lover boy, she’ll be here any minute.”

“Do you think she’ll be able to tell? I want to surprise her.”

Harrison looked at the room again and then at his nervous friend, who was a little too nicely dressed for a casual movie night in; yet again maybe Harrison just wasn’t used to Tom wearing anything but sweats and a hoodie around the house. It seemed obvious, but maybe you would be too tired from a day at work to notice. Before he could reply, Harry shouted from downstairs.

“She’s here!”

Quickly, Tom and Harrison rushed out of the room, closing the door softly behind them. They went to the kitchen, where Harry and Tuwaine also stood, all four of them trying to act casual as they waited for you to come inside.

“Ed Sheeran? Are you sure?” Tuwaine asked, questioning Tom’s choice of music for the night.

“Yes. What’s wrong with Ed Sheeran?” Tom refuted.

“It’s a little unoriginal.” Harry added, and his brother narrowed his eyes at him.

“Unoriginal?”

“I brought dinner!” You announced, walking into the house. Tom sent his brother and friends a quick look of “don’t say anything” before he went to greet you at the door. His smile widened as he saw you, kicking off your shoes beside the shoe bin, balancing two bags of takeout.

“How was work?” Tom asked as he took the bags from you.

“Boring. Wish I could’ve been here with you.” You replied with a smile, your arms wrapping around his neck to bring him in for a kiss. His hands found your waist, the takeout bags hanging from his wrist, as you kissed him like you hadn’t seen him in weeks, not that he was complaining though because there was plenty of lost time to make up for.

Just as your tongue brushed over his lips, making him smile into the kiss, Harrison walked in the room, scoffing, “Get a room.”

“Don’t worry. We will.” You stated, not stepping out of Tom’s embrace as you looked at your brother. Harrison just rolled his eyes at you. You let go of Tom to make your way to the kitchen with both boys following behind you.

“Remember when you hated Tom?” Harrison teased, his normal playful smile on his face as he eyed you cuddled up to his best friend across the dinner table.

You rolled your eyes at his attempt at a joke, “Hate is an overstatement. Besides, I obviously got over that ruined dress a long time ago.”

“What happened to change that?” Tuwaine asked innocently. All eyes fell on you and Tom, and you remained uncharacteristically quiet, opting to drink some water instead of responding.

“Just time, I guess.” Tom shrugged, doing his best to save you from the topic.

While you did spend the first year of knowing Tom completely ignoring his attempts at being nice to you (which ranged from him offering to help you with groceries when you and Harrison still lived at home together to him greeting you when you walked in a room), your hostility seemed to change over night for the bystanders that were your siblings, his brothers, and your mutual friends.

It was sometime in the fall of 2014; Tom didn’t really remember the day exactly, or rather the night. He just remembered that he wasn’t in the mood to go clubbing with Harrison in some no-name London nightclub, but he went nonetheless. He soon lost his friend to some girl in the crowd, and Tom found himself perched on a barstool, nursing a beer. He checked his phone with a sigh; it’d been only half an hour since he walked through the door. He scanned the crowd in front of him, looking for any sign of Harrison, when his eyes caught sight of you.

Out on the dancefloor with a carefree smile on your face, you still managed to take his breath away. It had been over a year since the incident, and you hadn’t backed down from your grudge against him. Meanwhile, for Tom, he wanted to keep trying because, maybe one day, you’d tolerate him enough that he could actually talk to you. All he heard from your mutual friends (not Harrison because he’d never speak highly of you to another guy, especially one that he already knew was crushing on you, even if Tom refused to admit it) was that you were incredibly sweet and kind and funny and smart and basically everything Tom was looking for. Sighing again, he took another drink of his beer and returned to his previous task of seeking out Harrison.

When he still came up empty handed looking for his friend, Tom’s eyes managed to find their way back to you, but this time that same smile wasn’t on your face. No, you actually looked pissed off, an expression that Tom was very used to seeing. It was then that Tom spotted a seemingly very drunk Richard beside you, Richard from the party, Richard who had been your boyfriend for the past few months, Richard who Tom absolutely loathed. He hadn’t heard much about your relationship, except for the fact that Harrison thought Richard was a “conceited, manipulative asshole” who wasn’t good for you at all. Curiously, Tom watched you interact with him as you crossed your arms, saying something that made Richard roll his eyes at you and grab your elbow forcefully. As Richard dragged you out to a hallway of the club, Tom immediately shot up to follow you two.

“Let me go. I told you, Richard, we’re done.” You said, trying to get out of his painful grip.

“No, we’re done when I say we’re done.” He barked back. Tom took that as his cue to step in, standing a bit taller as he did so.

“Hey, leave her alone.” Tom interjected, and you looked at him, surprised by his appearance.

“Tom, what the hell are you doing here?” You asked. It was Tom’s turn to be surprised; you’d spoken to him, and you’d used his name- up until this moment, he thought you didn’t even know that.

“Pool boy?” Richard scoffed, and you and Tom simultaneously rolled your eyes, “Run along. This is between me and my girlfriend.”

“Sounds like she isn’t your girlfriend anymore.” He hardly got his taunting comment out before Richard let go of you just to punch Tom square in the nose. Tom stumbled backwards a little and regained his footing to punch him right back. Richard staggered in surprise by the force of the blow, and you took the opportunity to grab Tom’s hand and run from the hallway back into the crowded club. He didn’t protest as he followed you through the swarm of people, allowing you to take him out of the club.

“Why did you do that?” You said quietly, once the two of you were outside in the cold night air. You let go of his hand and didn’t even turn to look at him, opting to pace the sidewalk a little while he leaned against the wall, clutching his nose.

“He was harassing you.” Tom stated. When you heard the slight nasaliness to his voice, you turned to look at him and your eyes grew wide as you realized his nose was bleeding.

“Oh god,” You winced.

“Dick packs a punch.” He tried to laugh, but the humor was lost from his grimace in pain.

“Come on, my place is around the corner.” At your offer, Tom furrowed his eyebrows at you in confusion. Playfully, you added, “I can’t leave my knight in shining armor to bleed out on the side of the road.”

“I doubt I’d bleed out from this.” Tom mused, and the two of you began to walk back to your apartment. 

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you until there was a particularly brisk gust of autumn wind, making you instinctively shiver. Your sleeveless dress did nothing to shield you from the chilly air, and Tom noticed. Ever so awkwardly, he started to try to shimmy out of his jacket, mindful of his bloody hand. You paused, looking over at him in confusion, “Are you trying to give me your jacket?”

“Shut up.” He mumbled, embarrassed but still trying to take off his jacket to offer it to you. Biting your lip to keep yourself from laughing at the humor of it all, you helped him.

“What is it with you and jackets?” You joked, slipping it on over your shoulders. Seeing as he was in a long sleeve shirt and jeans, and that your apartment was just ahead, you weren’t going to decline his offer.

“I don’t know.” Tom shrugged, laughing a little at the memory, “I’m just trying to be chivalrous.”

“Very chivalrous, indeed.” You nodded as a laugh escaped your lips.

“Maybe one day, I’ll get it right.”

Tom felt that maybe this lighthearted air between the two of you was a step in the right direction for the two of you, even if he was clutching his bloody nose the whole time. Back at your apartment, he propped himself up on the bathroom counter and you got a few rags together to clean him up. With his legs spread, you stood in between them, wiping the blood on his nose off with a wet rag.

“Thank you, by the way.” You mumbled, concentrated on your work.

“Anytime.” He answered, his eyes studying you closely, memorizing every detail of your face. This was the first, and hopefully not the last, time that you had been this close to him and, damn, did he enjoy it.

“Let’s not make this a regular thing.” You teased. “And can you, um, can you not tell Harrison? He tends to get overprotective.”

“Shit.” Tom groaned and you immediately stopped your actions, thinking you’d somehow managed to hurt him. “I forget Harrison.”

“At the club?” You asked, a small smile coming over your face, and he nodded sheepishly.

“He was off dancing with some girl.”

“So he forgot about you.” You joked, before seriously adding, “You should probably let him know you left, but-”

“I won’t tell him. This is our secret, I promise.”

And Tom still fully intended to keep that promise. Years down the road, Harrison still had no clue that your ex was the one who almost broke Tom’s nose, but it’s not like your brother remembered that night anyway. All he knew was that the very next day, when you came over for drinks with him and the boys, you and Tom spoke to each other. And, well, Harrison couldn’t help the small flicker of happiness that filled him to see his best friend and his twin sister getting along... finally.

“Yep, just time.” You nodded, sending Tom a small, grateful smile.

Dinner seemed to last forever for Tom; you just did not eat fast enough for him. He even started doing the dishes while you sat at the table and talked to Harry just to distract himself from the itching nerve to just drop down on one knee right in front of you. It didn’t help that Tom knew Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine were all anxiously wanting you to leave; they didn’t want to contain the secret any longer either. After nearly an hour of self-restraint on his part, he finally suggested you change out of your work clothes.

“So what movie tonight?” You asked as you made your way down the hall with Tom.

“I was thinking we could do something a little different tonight.” He said, a small smile playing on his lips. You eyed him skeptically before turning to open the bedroom door. You felt yourself choke up at the scene before you. Taking in the roses and lights as well as the room’s overall new romantic atmosphere, you were speechless.

“C’mon.” Tom slid past you in the doorway, holding out a hand for you. When you took it, he led you all the way inside the room, closing the door behind you.

“You did all of this for me?” You breathed out in disbelief, still processing the dramatic transformation.

“Of course.”

As you sat down beside him at the foot of the bed, in the perfect position to view the projected image, Tom quickly got out his phone to play the slideshow. Hearing the familiar tune of Ed Sheeran’s “Photograph”, you smiled, snuggling into Tom’s side. You watched in admiration as various pictures floated across the screen.

The very, very ugly first picture of the two of you together at 17 (with Dick cropped out and Harrison’s face replaced with a heart emoji). One of the many pictures the two of you took together when you went to Paris for your three year anniversary a few months ago. Goofy selfies you’ve taken together that should never be seen by anyone else. One taken by Harrison when Monty and Tessa’s leashes got tangled, trapping you and Tom together, before you were even actually together. A photo of you two in the world’s worst matching Christmas sweaters two years ago because Tom thought it’d be funny (and it was). Another photograph taken straight from a gossip magazine of the two of you at the Far From Home premiere (it was your favorite picture from the red carpet but also you couldn’t find it without the watermark); immediately following that one was Tom helping you remove your make up after the after party, make up wipe in hand (you two weren’t 100% sober when that was taken).

All of them were pictures of the happiest, most memorable days in your life, all moments that happened with the love of your life. As the song came to its bridge, Tom shifted out of your embrace to stand up, his hand deep in his pocket. When he turned to face you, his face dropped, realizing you were very teary-eyed.

“Darling, no, you’re not supposed to cry.” Worry was flowing through him now. What if you didn’t want this? What if you said no?

“Tom, yes.” You nodded, biting your lip to refrain from full on crying.

“Yes?” He repeated, suddenly confused.

“Are you going to ask me to marry you or not?” You teased. With a laugh, Tom got down on one knee in front of you, pulling out the ring box and opening it to present you with the most beautiful ring you could’ve imagined.

“Y/N Osterfield, the first time we met, you called me a dumbass, and I still am, but now I’m your dumbass that doesn’t know how to write one of those cheesy proposal speeches. You’re my best friend and my soulmate, and you know me better than anyone else. There’s no one else that I’d rather spend forever with, so will you spend forever with me and marry me?” Tom asked, hands shaking a little due to the nerves. Smiling and nodding, you leaned in to kiss him, despite the awkward angle from you still being on the bed and him still kneeling.

“Yes, yes, yes.” You mumbled happily between kisses. 

Laughing, Tom pulled away from you, “Don’t forget about the ring.” He took the ring out of the box and you held your left hand out to him for him to slide it onto your ring finger. You looked at the ring in awe for a moment.

“I love you, fiancé.” You said, eyes trailing for your ring to Tom.

“I love you, too, fiancée.” He replied and leaned in to kiss you. With his lips moving with yours, he brought himself up off the ground, blindly climbing onto the bed as you laid down on the blankets. Murmuring into your lips, Tom repeated his words happily, “My fiancée.”

~~~

Tag List: @viagracex @theamazingtomholland @Hellomoveonby @heyitsshrez @harrisonosterfieldhazmyheart @joyleenl @t-o-m-hollands @lonikje @sleepybesson @sunkisseddreamer @hollandsamor @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh @gorrillaglue23 @petersoftboyparker @musicalkeys @duskholland @biebsmylife95 @dummiesshort @perspectiveparker​ 

Tom Holland Tag List: @quaksonhehe @tomkindholland

Series Tag List: @thefallenbibliophilequote @wassup-peoples @thevelvetseries @greatpizzascissorstaco @tomhollandsotherpinkytoe

[theartofimagining13]

CHAPTER 4: THE CHEATER CHEETAH DRESS.

WRITTEN BY: A.Wölf.

BASED ON: Imagine: After a big discussion with your fiancé Tom…

PREVIOUS CHAPTERS: 1 DISENGAGEMENT | 2 THE TALE OF THE OFFENSE | 3 THE WEDDING GUEST

TEASER  |  POSTER    |   CHAPTER POSTER | CHAPTER TEASER

NOTES: First and foremost, I would like to thank @clockgirl94​ because if she hadn’t sent me that Javier gif, this chapter wouldn’t have been born.  ❤︎

I was reluctant to write spanish dialogue translations but then I remembered that spanish is my first language and maybe not everyone else’s lol. 

And also, there’s a subtle POV change.

Enjoy.

Funny how some humans’ defense mechanism works only in retrospect.

You get out of a messy situation, and it is only when you look back that things are crystal clear and you ask yourself why did I not see this before?

I was sitting on the floor, surrounded by boxes. After our honeymoon, Tom bought a bigger house in a quieter area of the city for us to move into. As I unpacked my clothes, I found a little summer dress that I hadn’t seen in months and I might as well have used as a noose because, as soon as I saw it, as soon as I touched it, I was out of breath and felt the biggest knot in my throat. There’s violence in the way some memories come back to us with an object or a smell; that seemingly insignificant piece of fabric unleashed in my mind a wild river of memories.

I chuckled at myself.

If I had truly wanted to forget, I would’ve burned the fucking dress but I had only managed to stash it at the bottom of a forgotten drawer, and now it was here. I got up and neatly placed it on the bed and stared at it. I suddenly felt a kiss on my left temple. Tom walked past me afterwards holding another heavy box and I saw the curious face he made once he left it on the floor and noticed the dress.

“You haven’t worn that in a long time.”  

“I know…”

He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

“You should.” He purred in my ear before planting kisses down my neck. “You drive me crazy in it.”

My heart raced when he held me tighter and spun me around. He caught my lips with his and I felt his hands going down my back. This was triggering for me, I had to stop him without being suspicious so I gently pulled away.

“Take me out on a date when we’re done here and I just might wear it.” I lied.

Tom let out a quiet pleasure groan in advance at the mental image perhaps.

“You got yourself a deal, baby.”

He gave me a quick peck on the lips and left to carry on with the move.

I sighed. See, the thing is, Tom wasn’t the only one who that dress drove crazy, and by now, I am pretty sure we’ve established that he and his former best friend, Pedro, liked the same things. As I stared at it again, I let myself go and revisited that particular memory in the forbidden recollections book.

Tom and I were hosting a summer cookout for a few friends and family in our old garden.

It was a beautiful, warm, sunny day in June, and I was wearing the now infamous cheetah print dress with combat boots. Tom had proposed a few days prior, and I hadn’t told Pedro. The thought alone made me nervous because how was I supposed to even form that sentence?

Hello, lover. I just got engaged.

Cringe. Of course not. Which is why I chose not to wear the ring for the occasion.

It didn’t get any easier when I saw Pedro as I walked out into the backyard. He was helping Tom with the grill and the charcoal, with a beer bottle in one hand but looked up at me and stared almost longer than politically correct. And the way he did it, slowly from head to toe and with slightly parted lips which made me feel things I shouldn’t have felt; but that ship had sailed. I kept my distance mingling with others at the party and he stayed there talking to Tom for a while.

I wish I had heard that conversation.

“I asked her to marry me.” Tom said with the biggest grin. “She said yes, mate.”

Pedro tensed up and stared at Tom, he swallowed and washed down a million sour words he could’ve said with the swig of beer he took.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tom chuckled. “I was… terrified.”

“Well, who in their right mind would ever do that?” Pedro half joked.

“You say that now…” Tom said. “But you just wait. I mean, look at her. Can you blame me?”

Pedro tightened his jaw as he glanced at her one more time and spoke through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I’ve told you a million times that you’re a lucky motherfucker.” He said causing Tom to laugh. “I gotta take a leak.” Pedro announced dryly. “Hey, you got anything stronger than this?” and immediately added, “We’re celebrating, aren’t we?”

“There’s whiskey inside.”

“I’ll get it.”

He started to walk away but stopped to look back at Tom, realizing that he had forgotten something.

“Congratulations, man.” He forced a smile.

When Pedro walked into the bathroom, he splashed his face with cold water and scowled at himself in the mirror.

I put a big pitcher of lemonade in the fridge before I went upstairs but I stopped midway when I heard the hallway bathroom door opening and closing, and instinctively looked over my shoulder only to find Pedro.

I couldn’t read his expression so I kept walking, hoping that he would follow me, and aching for a moment with just the two of us alone. I faced him when I reached mine and Tom’s bedroom door and leaned against it with my hands behind my back. He got closer and placed his right hand right next to my head, towering over me as he stared into my soul.

“You think you can just walk around in that little dress and get away with it?”

“You like it?” I teased.

He slowly looked down and up again, provokingly.

“It’s driving me crazy.” He confessed in almost a whisper.

I allowed my eyes to wander and make sure that we were completely alone before I leaned in to kiss him. The kiss was cold, empty, so unlike Pedro’s trademark passionate ones, and he was rarely in a bad mood which made it twice as scary when he actually was, but I had no idea if that was the case. I pulled away and furrowed my eyebrows with concern. He cleared his throat and sniffed loudly.

“Is there something you’d like to tell me?” He inquired with the most serious face and tone.

“What do you mean?”

But he just cocked his head with condescendence and, it took me a minute, but I figured out what he was talking about.

“He told you.” I sighed. “Pedro, I was going to tell you, I just-”

“When were you going to tell me?” He cut me off.

“I-I don’t know, I couldn’t find the right w-”

I ceased talking and flinched when he struck the door with the hand that had been resting next to my head.

“Fuck’s sake…” He cursed and roamed a little with his hands on his waist.

Back then, silly me thought he was jealous, hell, I even liked it a bit. But no. Pedro was worried.

“Now?” He asked with a much more collected tone. “He had to propose now?”

Looking back, this was the only moment Pedro felt a little remorse. He was worried because my engagement had just made things even more complicated. Ironically enough, our affair had only started when this happened; we had been meeting in secret for a few weeks. We could’ve stopped then while Tom hadn’t a clue, could’ve pretended that it never happened and move on. Pedro and Tom’s friendship would’ve remained intact.

Pedro was a hypocrite, we’ve also established that. Somehow, it was okay to fuck his best friend’s girlfriend but once I became his fiancée, Pedro looked like he had finally encountered a line he could not cross.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?” He wondered out loud while looking over my shoulder as if he could see Tom in the backyard, through the door and walls.

Truthfully, I was very happy with my diamond ring, so, I also started pondering on my future with Pedro. The fact that our affair had just started had a pro and a con in common; Pro, We had only just begun which would make it easier to cut ties right then and there. Con, we had only just begun which would make it ten times harder to quit right then and there.

I sighed with frustration when I had that moment of honest clarity.

“I guess we could… stop?” I hesitantly asked and hated it to no end.

Pedro’s face fell and he studied me briefly but carefully.

“I mean,” I added. “People might get hurt.”

Pedro blinked several times and slowly began to nod.

“You’re right. We don’t… we don’t want that. We’ve been lucky.”

But I swallowed hard because I could easily tell that he loathed this as much as I did.

“We should just… be friends.”

Again, his brown eyes traveled up and down my body and he gulped.

“Friends.” He echoed.

My heart was racing in the middle of the staring contest we seemed to be having, and I felt as if he could hear it over the silence we shared. He inched closer.

“Is…is that what you want?” He inquired.

At that point, that was the only right thing left to do, and to sort of mend things or prevent them from getting worse. But Pedro understood my silence when I just glued my eyes to his.

“Open the door.” He ordered.

As soon as I did, he followed me inside, closing it behind him and kissed me on the lips in the most urgent way, and I thought my heart would leap out of my chest. I could feel his hands going down my back as he kissed my neck and chest, and I turned around and faced the bed because I knew what we both wanted and needed. He pressed me against his body and cupped my breasts. I could feel him getting hard and it weakened my knees. His hands went underneath my dress and he pulled down my underwear before pulling the skirt up.

The sound of Pedro unbuckling his belt in a rush reverberated in my core. I desperately needed him inside of me, I wanted and needed him to fuck me till we both came. He licked his fingers and touched me, letting out a silent and proud chuckle because I was more than ready for him. Our foreplay had started from the moment he decided to eye fuck me as soon as I showed up in the garden, and our little conversation was the sugar on the rim. He lowered his pants enough to pull out his cock and caressed my entrance with the tip, using his free hand to gently and slightly bend me over the bed.

And he tortured me like this for a few seconds that felt much longer to me, inserting just the tip, slowly going out and in again until I felt like I couldn’t take it anymore and he finally quickened the pace. I wanted more. I needed more. I needed him, all of him, and I moaned when he finally granted me my wish.

“Fuck…” He breathed out and just stayed inside of me while I adjusted to him.

Pedro grabbed me by the hips with a tight grip and started fucking me like I had been silently begging him to; Hard and fast and just making me his. His low grunts and his ragged breath were turning me on even more. One of his hands slid up my back until his fingers got lost in my hair and he grabbed a fistful as he kept pounding into me, but it moved down to my neck, prompting me to stand up straight as he wrapped his arms around my waist and one greedy hand cupped one of my breasts.

“Te gusta? (You like it?)”

I groaned. I loved it when he whispered things in Spanish in my ear, and adding the fact that we had to be as quiet as possible was driving me over the edge.

“Dime. (Tell me).”

“Yes.” I breathed out. “Pedro…”

He chuckled again, knowing what I was implying and begging for, and he nibbled my neck before whispering once more.

“Te quieres venir? (You want to cum?)” He asked even though he knew I was dying to cum. I could even hear his mischievous grin. “Vente, mi amor. (Cum, my love).”

The rhythm of his thrusts increased again and he held me tighter. My whole body tensed up, I could feel it, the tingling sensation slowly taking over until it possessed me whole, mind and soul. Pedro had to cover my mouth as I came undone in his arms, he held onto me for dear life and buried his face in the crook of my neck as he poured himself into me and let out a suffocated moan against my skin.

With relief washing over us, our heart rates began to settle, and our foreheads were covered with a thin layer of sweat.

As I freshened up and washed my face, I stared at myself in the mirror and wondered if that had been the last time for Pedro and I.

Perhaps we had said goodbye in the only way we knew how.

I entered the kitchen and poured myself a much needed glass of ice cold lemonade before I was joined by my fiancé.

“I think we should tell them.” Tom said while taking out a few more meat packages from the fridge.

“What?” I asked in a blissful yet lethargic daze.

“About our engagement.” He placed them on the counter.

He stood in front of me, waiting as if he was asking for permission and looked at my glass of lemonade which he ended up stealing to take a sip.

But when he looked down at my hand, he frowned.

“Where’s your ring?” He asked.

“Oh, I… I took it off when I washed my hands and must’ve left it in the bathroom.” I lied.

“Put it on.” He said.

It was all the same now, Pedro knew. So, I did as I was told for Tom to make the announcement in the garden. I heard the three C’s of celebration; clamoring, cheering, and clapping, but all I could see was Pedro sitting in the back, and when his brown eyes found mine, he just showed a cynical smile and raised his glass of whiskey, at me, the cheeky bastard who had just fucked the fiancée in the cheetah dress.

Or the cheater in the dress.

I was sure that Pedro was just as addicted to me as I was to him. Engagement or not, we just weren’t ready to stop. If anything, he craved me more fiercely than before, and that ring on my finger just turned him on even more.

We had only just begun.

I blinked several times as the arousing memory dissolved and I became aware of my surroundings.

I bit my lip and wondered if Pedro still thought of these encounters of ours. I asked myself if he missed me, if he thought about me, if he touched himself while doing so, if he envisioned me while fucking someone else. Or the possibility of an ugly truth where he had just moved on and I meant nothing, but then I remembered my wedding day and his drunken honesty.

Of course he fucking thought of me.

[farfromharry]

always (part ten) | harry holland series

summary: 3 years later and things are looking perfect for you and harry. you’re engaged with a whole new surprise on the way to add to your family.

word count - 4.6k

warnings - language, mentions of giving birth

The day of your wedding felt like it was creeping up on you unexpectedly, even if it was still many months away. It still felt like yesterday that Harry was proposing to you in your bedroom in front of your daughter. Part of you couldn’t believe it had already been five months.

You had come home from spending some much needed time with friends at a local pub, to find your flat dark, and from the eerie silence, what you assumed to be empty. Confusion ran through you, Harry didn’t tell you he was taking Lily anywhere so you had expected them to be there when you got back.

“Harry?” you called, hoping to gain some form of an answer from your boyfriend, or even your daughter. You heard little footsteps running down the hall, a sudden flash of brightness lighting the room and taking you off guard as she stretched to turn on the light.

“Hi Lily, where’s your dad?” you asked, bending down to brush some curly hair from her face. She just giggled, taking your hand and pulling you in the direction of your bedroom. You followed her questionably, not having any idea what your menacing daughter was up to.

Gently, she pushed open the door to your room, leaving you to find your love standing there nervously, playing with the strings on his hoodie.

“Is there a pyjama party no one told me about?” you joked, motioning to Harry’s sleep wear and then your daughter’s adorable dumbo pyjamas. Which you could recall being her favourite. 

Harry laughed, shaking his head and taking your hands in his. He placed a greeting kiss on your knuckles, ignoring the noise of disgust that Lily made.

“I actually wanted to talk about something.” Your heart dropped, your mind automatically thinking you’d done something to upset him.

“Did I do something, I’m sorry if-“ he shook his head, squeezing your hands reassuringly.

“You didn’t do anything, you’re perfect.” You tried to ignore the feeling of heat in your body at the compliment, choosing to let Harry’s comment pass and let him continue talking.

“Well, here goes nothing,” he mumbled. You watched with wide eyes as he bent down on one knee, a nervous grin on his face as he glanced at Lily. She gave him a thumbs up, one which made you giggle.

Harry delved into a heartwarming speech about the memories you’d shared together, being best friends and then more. He told you about the time when he knew he was in love, and it turns out it was years before your relationship even became a possibility. 

“I also just, I want to thank you for giving me Lily, and letting me love her like she’s my own.” Tears were streaming down your cheeks at this point, only threatening to do the same to Harry. He finally pulled out the ring box, Lily squealing excitedly from the side.

“Y/N, will you marry me?” he asked, looking at you with those same big brown eyes you’d fallen in love with a long time ago.

“Yes, yes, of course I will.” The ring was slipped onto your finger and you couldn’t help your sudden urge to kiss your new fiancé. Your lips moulded together with his, Lily trying to pull you both apart so she didn’t have to see that.

The rest of the night after that was spent with the three of you watching Disney films in your bed, Harry’s lips basically refusing to leave your head. 

You smiled at the thought, your thumb subconsciously running over the beautiful engagement ring, while your eyes took your time to look at the dress in the mirror. Your nose scrunched up in dislike, already having decided this wasn’t the one for you.

“You okay in there Y/N?” your mum asked. You opened the door, taking her hand to help guide you into the middle of the room without falling over the trail of the dress. You noticed them try to pretend as if they liked it, complimenting random details just to make you happy. Frowning, you shook your head at them. 

“I hate it.” The two women let out relieved sighs and finally gave you their honest opinions. You were close to tears, you didn’t think you were ever going to find the perfect one at this rate, and with some more recent uncontrollable emotions you’d been having, you were all over the place about it.

You finally got to take a moment for yourself when Tom entered the shop with your angel on his hip, her happy smile widening when she saw her mum. 

She almost leaped out of her uncle’s arms, running to you and pretty much demanding that you pick her up. You giggled, cradling her against your chest as she buried her head in your neck. You asked for her opinion on the gown, knowing that the three year old would be brutally honest, which she was. 

“I hate it,” she said, pulling a face that made you crack up. Nikki announced the idea of a break, one that you felt you both needed and deserved after this mess. 

The break was taken up by small talk between the four adults among you, the little girl slowly falling asleep in your arms until she was out completely, almost drooling on your shoulder.

Sadly you had to hand her over to someone else, letting her sleep on Tom’s lap in one of the uncomfortable chairs as you took the dress off.

You ended up being at the dress shop for hours, and you still hadn’t found the right one. The women- and Tom, suggested you go home and then try somewhere else tomorrow, but you insisted on trying one last dress, just in case.

You were staring at how it looked, slightly mesmerized by the flowy, princess like gown draped across your body. Snapping you out of your daze, was a soft knock on the dressing room door, your quiet come in barely being heard through the wood.

“Hey, you seemed to be taking a while, so I came to check on you,” he said. “and I brought you something,” opening the door to the dressing room to let your little monster run in. Your heart swelled, bending down to scoop her up into your arms. You gave her some kisses on her head, letting her back down onto her feet so she could get a better look at your dress, this one she liked much more.

“Hello my gorgeous girl.” The girl’s grin was wide, looking at your dress in awe, “Did you have a good nap?” 

She nodded her head, not even really listening to what you were saying, reaching forward to gently touch the material of your dress.

“You look like a princess.” You smiled at her, bending down to her height. You lifted your hand and placed it on the back of her head, trying to tame her wild bedhead. You thanked her quietly, mumbling something about how she’d also get to look like a princess when the day came. Grinning, she told you she couldn’t wait.

“You look incredible Y/N.” 

Tom’s arms wrapped around you in a brotherly hug, showering you with a few more compliments. Glancing at the time, you knew Harry was meant to be here any minute. You’d all planned on going to a celebratory dinner after you found your dress, and up until now you weren’t sure there was any point.

“Alright, let’s show them,” you said, motioning to the door. Lily took Tom’s large hand, wanting to walk with him back to the main area.

Just as you opened it, you noticed your sneaky fiancé standing in the room. A shocked gasp escaped you and you quickly pulled it shut so he couldn’t notice your dress.

“What’s wrong?” Tom asked, trying to look around you.

“Harry’s here, he can’t see my dress,” you panicked, looking at Tom for some kind of help.

Tom rolled his eyes, shooing you away from the door. He whispered something to Lily, assuming he was using her as part of his plan.

“Are you using my daughter as a distraction?” you asked. Tom grinned nervously and ushered her out of the door, waving goodbye to you without another word. You laughed, shaking your head at the immature man.

“Daddy!” she yelled, running towards the curly haired man standing with his mum and your mum. Harry turned his head, grinning at the little girl. Harry’s heart still fluttered everytime she called him that, just like the first time it happened, right after her first birthday.

Ever since Lily had learned how to say the word no, she’d been using it as much as she could. When you told her something she didn’t like, no. When you asked her to put her toys away, no.

Even if you tried to put her to bed when she didn’t want to, all you’d receive was a stubborn no in response.

You were currently trying to get her off the couch and upstairs, where you’d simply bathe her, change her and then put her in her crib for the night. However that was not what she wanted to do. 

“Come on angel, need to get you ready for bed.” This was already your fourth attempt, but the girl just kept shaking her head and making it impossible for you to pick her up, flailing her limbs around awkwardly.

“Is everything okay in here?” You turned your head to your boyfriend and pouted, explaining the problem and then turning back to the baby expectantly. Lily gazed up at Harry with a lazy smile, you were glad that she still adored him as much as she did when she was first held by him.

You tried again, showing Harry the struggle you were having with her. Her gaze wasn’t even focused on you, but rather over your shoulder at the curly headed man smiling at her.

“No,” she whined, “Daddy.”

Your eyes widened, cheeks growing a deep red as you nervously glanced at Harry. He seemed frozen in his place, staring down at her as she made grabby hands.

She got more and more agitated when Harry didn’t make a move to pick her up, her face scrunching up in distress. “Daddy,” she tried again. A sense of stress in her tone. 

She let out a cry, causing Harry to jump into action. He carefully picked her up, cradling her to his chest. Beginning to rock her in order to calm her dad, shushing her quietly too.

“You’re okay,” he whispered, glancing up at you nervously, “Daddy’s here.” 

You let out a sigh of relief with a grin, happy that she didn’t make him uncomfortable and manage to scare him away.

“Come on, let’s let mummy have a break and i’ll put you to bed.” 

You thanked him silently, watching the two head down the hall. Your heart was still beating faster than normal, and you were unable to remove the grin from your mouth.

When Harry came back he was still utterly shocked at what he’d heard, taking a seat beside you and pulling you into his arms.

“Did that really just happen?” he asked. You nodded your head, burying your face in his chest with a happy laugh.

“Congrats dad.” Harry could feel himself tearing up, unable to wipe the grin from his face due to the utter happiness he felt.

“Hi precious.” He lifted her up onto his hip, kissing her cheek. The two mothers watched him interact with the girl with warm hearts. Even if she wasn’t biologically his, Harry was more than happy to treat her as his own. He’d loved the girl from the second he learned about your pregnancy, and nothing had changed.

“How does mummy look?” he whispered, trying to keep his volume to a minimum so his own mum wouldn’t scold him for trying to get the girl to say anything about the dress.

“She looks beautiful.” 

“Even more beautiful than normal?” he said, a tiny grin on his face. Lily nodded her head rapidly, making Harry laugh and kiss her head. 

Tom explained to his brother that he had to turn around and close his eyes while you showed everyone else the dress. He whined and protested, insisting like a child that it wasn’t fair. Nikki had obviously scolded him, telling him to stop being a baby, which had made Lily giggle.

He knew you’d stepped out when he heard gasps from the two women, he pouted, resting his head against his daughters.

“Oh wow.” Harry felt his heart sink. He wanted nothing more to turn around and gush about how gorgeous you looked along with everyone else.

To tease him even more, you shuffled over and placed a kiss to his cheek, greeting him sweetly, but making sure he could only see your face.

“I want to see you,” he frowned. You giggled quietly, kissing in between his clothed shoulder blades.

“You’ll see me on the day.” He rolled his eyes, throwing his head back to try and catch a glimpse, complaining about how far away it was.

You scoffed at him, quickly covering his eyes with your hands. “Stop peeking.” 

Harry let you keep your hands over his eyes, but turned his head and puckered his lips for you to kiss him. You rolled your eyes, granting his wish. 

“Let me just change and then we can go.” You heard Harry huff, ignoring his complaints and heading back to change into normal clothing. He got the chance to properly greet you with a hug once you were back in the clothes you’d put on that morning.

Your heart was racing as you bought the dress, hearing the two men behind you choking on their own breath at the price, neither one of the lads was aware that a wedding dress could cost anywhere near that much. It wasn’t long before you were ready to leave, slipping your hand into Harry’s while he happily carried your girl on his hip, listening to her innocent rambling.

Once you were in the restaurant and ordering, you got a few confused looks from the rest of the table when you didn’t order any alcohol, choosing to go with water instead. In their heads your mother and Nikki were also thinking about when you rejected the champagne at the dress shop when you’d arrived.

You tried to brush it off, gulping nervously and telling them you just weren’t in the mood. Harry was skeptical, he knew you better than you knew yourself and you seemed really nervous at the slight intrusion, you also hadn’t mentioned feeling off in any way to him.

He made a mental note to ask about it when you got home later, not wanting to bring it up in front of your families just in case.

When you got home that night, both you, Harry and Lily were exhausted. He offered to go and put her to bed, letting you do whatever you needed so you could get in bed.

Even after taking the time to read your angel a quick bedtime story, Harry still ended up in bed before you, ignoring your eye roll at how eager he was to sleep.

“I’m still sad I wasn’t allowed to see your dress,” he whined. You just giggled, pulling back the covers of your bed and climbing in next to him. You laid beside him, the two of you laying in a comfortable silence, just appreciating being near each other. You could tell just from the dazed expression on his face that he was picturing it.

“I can’t wait to marry you.” Your heart practically exploded in your chest, turning your head on the pillow so you could admire your fiancé.

“About that,” you winced. Harry’s eyes widened, snapping towards you out of fear. 

“Oh no, do you not-“ you cut him off instantly, shaking your head rapidly at his statement. You felt guilty for worrying him.

“It’s nothing like that, I promise.” His heart was still beating irregularly. You took a deep breath, smiling at him nervously, while blindly searching for his hand to hold.

“I think we need to push the wedding back a little,” you explained. His eyebrows furrowed, cocking his head like a confused puppy. He asked why, happily letting you take his hand in yours. You guided his hand to your stomach, trying to see if he would get the hint. It did take him a few minutes for it to sink in but he eventually gasped in surprise.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked, tears welling in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you cried, giggling to yourself as he practically tackled you in a hug. He let a few tears slip, not even bothering to wipe them away, “I wanted to tell you better than this but, here we are.”

“I had an idea, I noticed you weren’t drinking,'' you rolled your eyes. You hadn’t thought that would’ve been obvious. He shook his head, unable to tear his eyes away from you and your stomach. “I can’t believe it.” He refused to stop pressing kisses to different parts of your face, your laugh echoing around your shared room.

“I love you so much,” he whispered. You leaned forward and rested your forehead on his, smiling softly at him, while watching all the emotions swimming in those brown eyes. “Thank you for giving me the perfect family.”

This pregnancy was even better than your first one. Harry was much more attached this time and he barely ever let his hands leave your belly when he could.

In the beginning you would slap his hands away, telling him to stop so your families wouldn’t suspect anything. He would obviously take offense, just wanting to be close to his love and his growing child. But as it got harder and harder to hide, Harry would give you those puppy dog eyes that you couldn’t say no to.

This pregnancy felt different on some level, even though you had Harry the first time around too, this felt much more personal and you weren’t sure if it was because this time around, the baby was his.

He would often be encouraging Lily to talk to the baby with him, about anything and everything they could think of.

It had become one of Harry’s favourite things to do to talk to the baby. Anytime he could he’d be lifting up your shirts to just below your bra and pressing kisses to different spots on your protruding belly, telling the growing baby a story about his day.

That’s what was currently happening here. You were all ready to go to sleep when Lily had claimed she had a nightmare, tears running down her face, crawling into your bed for some comfort. Harry’s attempt at calming her down was by distracting her with talking to your five month pregnant belly.

He lifted up his old shirt you were wearing, placing a few greeting kisses on your stomach. He got comfortable on his elbows before motioning for Lily to follow, having her lay down on your other side.

“Come on angel, that’s your sibling in there.” Harry had been trying forever to get her to just talk to the baby, but she clearly didn’t grasp the concept of where the baby even was because she couldn’t see them.

“But there’s nothing there,” she pouted, laying her head on your chest. You ran your fingers through her tangled hair, just like your other hand was doing with Harry’s hair.

Lily watched as he began to tell the baby anything that popped into his head, rubbing his thumb over the skin gently. She shuffled down the bed, placing her tiny hand on your belly, trying to mimic her dad’s actions. She started to tell them a random story about her day with her uncle Tom, something about what had happened in the film they’d watched. The whole experience was actually quite soothing to you, giving you a chance to close your eyes and try to fall asleep while your two angels did their thing.

A sudden and slight flinch and your eyes snapping open alerted your fiancé, the man looking at you concerned. 

“They kicked,” you laughed, “I think they like their sisters' voices.” Lily’s eyes widened, letting you guide her hand to where the kick had been. You told her to keep talking, not having to wait long for another energetic kick from your bub.

“See, they like you already,” Harry smiled, nudging her shoulder gently.

“Can we talk to them everyday?” 

When you first told your angel she was over the moon, she was really excited at the idea of having a sibling and it warmed your heart to see. Nothing had changed from when you told her to know, the obvious baby bump being the centre of her constant giddy moods.

It eventually got to the point where there was no way you could hide it from family members any longer, and you had to tell your families about the pregnancy and postponing the wedding.

“So, we have some news,” you announced, gaining everyone around the table's attention. You squeezed Harry’s hand, running your hands over the material of your loose dress and pulling it tight against your belly.

There was a chorus of gasps, a few tears and lots of hugs from your families, hearing congratulations upon congratulations. You couldn’t help but glance at your fiancé while in a hug with his twin. You both sent each other lovesick smiles from the embraces you’d been dragged into, your hearts warm.

It felt like the last few months were over in seconds, and you were definitely going to miss it. The back rubs from Harry, the constant helping you and even the practically never leaving your side, you were surprisingly going to miss that too.

Your water breaking was nowhere near as chaotic as the first time, things were much calmer the second time around. Harry called one of his brothers, you couldn’t be sure which one in the moment, and asked them to meet you at the hospital so they could watch Lily. He then helped you into the car, making sure to give you a break when a contraction would hit, allowing you to squeeze the life out of his hand.

It was incredibly early for Lily, so she seemed to fall asleep as soon as she was settled in her car seat, a soft smile on Harry’s face just looking at her. He was about to be a dad again.

He tried to get there as quick as he could, finding Tom waiting outside in the early morning cold. You gathered that Tom was the brother he’d called earlier, but right now you didn’t really care. He greeted you politely, taking a sleeping Lily from her car seat while Harry helped you inside.

After you were given something for the pain, you seemed more concerned with if your family members were aware of the incoming new arrival, rather than actually being in labour. Something that Harry had to remind you was much more important.

“Did you call or-“ Harry cut you off, brushing some sweaty hair out of your face.

“I sent a text to everyone, okay, stop worrying.” you nodded your head, taking deep breaths to try and ease the pain that was still lingering. Harry didn’t let up playing with your hair, placing the occasional kiss on your hairline and always whispering words of encouragement to get you through.

You didn’t realise how much relief you’d get when the doctor told you it was time, a flood of thanks flowing through you as you were finally able to get this baby out.

This one took longer than the last, your new baby turning out to be a lot more stubborn than Lily was already, but you were eventually greeted with the cries of a newborn echoing around the room.

Harry choked back tears hearing that it was a boy, ignoring your teasing comment about the Holland curse as he got a look at his baby.

The boy was passed to you first, letting you get a good look at him. At first glance, he seemed to be a perfect mix of you and Harry, but when you really took the time to study him, you noticed all the features that were his dads. That button nose of his that you completely adored, those honey brown eyes that you’d spent hours staring into on some days. 

You could feel Harry watching you both from where he resided next to your bed. Snapping a quick picture that you’d be able to look back on whenever you wanted. You ran your hand over your boy's head, kissing his forehead and then glancing up to your fiance.

“He looks like you, he’s so beautiful.”

Harry’s heart swelled, itching to get the chance to hold his new son. Before Lily came in to be introduced to her new little brother, Harry got to cradle him, noting every one of his features to memory. Especially noticing the ones that he believed belonged to you.

“He’s perfect,” he whispered. Your heart fluttered a little, watching how he was so mesmerized with the new life in his arms. He placed gentle kisses on his chubby cheeks, choking up when his tiny hand wrapped around his finger. You let him have his moment, taking this chance for yourself to relax a little bit. A single tear rolled down his cheek and he didn’t even attempt to hide it, allowing you to get an insight on how truly happy he was right now. It felt like the first time he’d held Lily in his arms over three years ago. He remembered the moment where he stayed mesmerised with her for eyes, analysing every little mark on her face that resembled you. That was the day Harry properly fell in love with the tiny angel, and it was happening all over again right now.

You hated to interrupt his moment but you also wanted to let the tired, and probably very bored, girl in the waiting room have the chance to meet her brother. 

“Can you go get Lily, please?” you asked. He nodded slowly, hesitantly handing you the little angel wrapped in blue back. He pressed a long kiss to your forehead, partly thanking you for giving him his angel, well both of his angels, and also silently telling you how proud and amazed he was at what you’d just done.

You talked to your son quietly while Harry was gone, even if it was only for a few minutes and even if he didn’t understand what you were saying. Reaching his little hand up to grab you as if he recognised your voice from all the conversations you’d had with him while you were pregnant.

“There’s someone we want you to meet,” he whispered, guiding her sleepy frame into the hospital room. She seemed hesitant, her lack of sleep leaving her confused. She couldn’t see anyone else in the room but you and her dad.

“Lily, c’mere,” you cooed. Harry lifted her onto the hospital bed beside you, giving her the perfect view of the baby boy. “This is your little brother.”

Harry watched you introduce your new babe to Lily, the girl watching her new baby sibling in awe. She seemed to lose all traces of sleep the second she saw him, becoming completely obsessed with the tiny human in front of her.

It’d definitely taken you both time to get here, to become a family, arguably too long for that matter, but Harry felt like this was right, he felt complete, and he was sure that he now always would.

always taglist - @hopelessly-harry @iwearheadphones @thevelvetseries @minejungwoo @siriuslyslyslytherin @givebuckyhisplumsnow @itstaskeen @icyhollands @starkweasley @hollandcrush @zspideyy @hopeless-romantic-baby

[peaskyblonders]

Debt

GIF NOT MINE!!

Thomas Shelby x reader

Another surprise update from yours truly, once again applogies for my lack of writing, I hope everyone is keeping well x

“Reader being force to marru another man. To settle her fathers debts but Tommy saves the day”

Warnings: swearing, mentions of debt and gambling, terrible terrible writing

2.4k words 

You believed that you had a good life.

You had a steady job, a loving boyfriend and a supportive family, you couldn't possibly want anything more, you were content with your life and you didn't want anything to change. Unfortunately for you, you weren't lucky with that wish.

You knew that something was wrong when you walked into your shared house with your parents after a long shift, noticing both your mother and father sat around the kitchen table, refusing to look up towards you, a mere nod being sent your way when you greeted them at the door. You took off your coat before walking towards them and for the first time since arriving home, your father looked up towards you, motioning for you to sit on the empty chair that was positioned in front of your parents.

It was at that moment that worry and dread began to fill your whole body. You sat down after a moment of silence and looked up towards your parents, waiting patiently for them to explain what the problem was.

"What's wrong?" you asked and the moment your father opened his mouth and explained the situation at hand to you, you became numb. You didn't know what to say or do so instead, you just sat there staring at your parents with your eyes and mouth wide open.

You had always known about your father's debt to a rivalry gang in the city, you couldn't remember a time when your father wasn't in debt. You knew he obtained this debt when you were just a child. He had wanted you to have a good education and in doing so practically signed his death warrant, something you felt horribly guilty for even though you had no say in the matter.

Your father delved into detail about his problem, explaining to you how bad it truly was and what was needed to be done so that he could essentially live to see the light another day. You sat there with tears pouring down your cheeks while your father explained to you that the only way he could possibly survive, was if you married the leader of the gang.

He told you his name but you didn't process it as the only thing going through your mind was how you were going to tell your boyfriend, Thomas, that you were going to marry another man. You had never told Thomas about your fathers' debt as you knew that he would do anything in his power to get rid of it, and considering that said gang was a major rival of the Peaky Blinders, (the gang that your boyfriend had practically formed)you knew that telling him would do more bad than good.

You coincidently met Thomas later that night by in the local pub. You had been drinking your sorrows away, hoping to get drunk enough that you'd forget about the whole dilemma that you were in when he had entered the establishment with his brothers trailing behind him. He had immediately noticed you and beckoned for you to join his family in the private room located at the side of the pub. You had debated running out of the pub and into the safety of your own home but decided against it as you knew deep down this was the best time to confront him about your upcoming marriage.

You took a deep breath before opening the door to the private room, greetings immediately being thrown your way by his family, a family that you once wished to call yours. You forced a smile onto your face as you sat down next to Thomas, his hand immediately falling down to your waist, a small smirk planted on his face as he greeted you himself with a squeeze to your hip and a kiss to your cheek. You hoped that he wouldn't notice your foul mood, but Tommy, being Tommy, noticed almost immediately when he failed to see a smile on your pretty face. He pinched you so that you would look at him, his eyebrows furrowing upon seeing the worry in your eyes but before he could even attempt to ask what the matter was you had cut him off.

"We need to talk" you muttered quietly making sure not to attract any unwanted attention from the family around you. Thomas nodded his head and excused you both from the room, leading you out of the pub with his hand on the small of your back.

The moment the doors closed behind you, you took a step out of his grasp and took a deep breath. "We need to break up" you spoke, not daring to look at your boyfriend as you spoke the words that would haunt you forever.

"If this is about me missing date night I'm deeply sorry, Y/N, but some important things crept up that I couldn't just ignore," he gently grabbed your arm as he spoke to you, furrowing his eyebrows when you removed it out of his grip, "if it means that much to you, I'll make sure to never miss a date with you again" he continued.

"It's not about that Tommy" you sighed

He moved to stand in front of you and placed his hands on your face, forcing you to look him in his eyes. "Then what is it about? Tell me, so that I can fix it" he pleaded. Tommy had lost many things in his life and he was adamant that he wasn't going to lose you too, at least not without a fight.

You struggled in his grip but his hands remained on the sides of your face. He wore his usual serious expression on his face, one that you had grown so used to over the years that you had known him. You felt tears well up in your eyes and you didn't even realise you had told him until his face dropped and his grip had loosened. "I'm getting married" you had whispered.

At first, Tommy thought he had imagined the words that had just left your lips, but when he saw the pained expression on your face he immediately took a step away from you, as if touching you had burned his skin. "You fucking what?" he sneered, an accusing finger thrown in your direction as he shook his head.

"There nothing I can do about it, Tom!" you cried as you sank down the wall to sit on the floor, you placed your head in your hands as Thomas paced forwards and backwards in front of you, making you more nervous than you thought possible.

"What do you mean there's nothing that you can do? Don't fucking marry the guy!" Thomas practically shouted, waving his arms around in anger as he stepped towards you.

"I can't!"

"Give me one good reason why you can't"

"Because I didn't have a choice in the matter, Tommy" you shouted

You then spent the night explaining your situation to Tommy, telling him that there was nothing that he could do to stop the wedding from happening, he protested, of course, but you had cut him off with a passionate kiss. The minute you had pulled away Tommy looked at you with the most emotion he had ever shown you and you knew, at that moment, he was vulnerable and you were about to break his heart.

"Stay" he had whispered, you closed your eyes upon hearing those words, knowing that if you looked at him for a second too long, you would cave in. Instead, you whispered goodbye to him and walked away, not daring to look back at Thomas in fear that you would break down.

* * *

That was five days ago.

It had been five days since you had seen the man you were in love with.

A lot had happened in those five days.

The wedding had been arranged as soon as you said yes. Your family had raved about how fast the days flew by, but you didn't feel the same way.

You were busy, of course, with your mother bringing you dress shopping almost every day, even after you had said yes to all the dresses she had picked out for you and being asked about the smallest details for the ceremony such as the colour of the flowers and what you wanted to do with your hair. So yes, time might have flown for everyone else but for you, each second without Thomas went slower than the last and as you were sat in front of a mirror with your white dress clinging to your body, you knew that the next fifty minutes would go by even slower and then you would be married.

A part of you wanted it to be over and done with, to have the stress of your fathers' debt finally lifted off your parents' shoulders, but the other part of you wanted to run away and find Tommy and never leave his side again. You knew that wasn't possible though as you loved your father and you would do anything to make sure that he wasn't killed, even if it meant sacrificing your own happiness for as long as you lived.

Before you knew it your father had shown up in your dressing room and you knew that the time had come. He made a big deal of complimenting your appearance. You didn't know if he was being genuine or if he was just trying to cheer you up, either way, it had brought a smile to your face and you had found yourself thinking that married life might not be that bad.

You exited the room together and took a deep breath while you looked at the big wooden doors in front of you, you nodded at your father and he slowly opened them. You forced yourself to take a step, but your eyes remained on the red carpet on the floor, you only looked up when you were halfway down the aisle and noticed that there was nobody waiting for you, not even the priest.

Had you been stood up?

You feared for your fathers' life and when you heard the doors close behind you, your palms started to sweat, you looked up at your father, who had a big smile on his face.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked behind you, a gasp leaving your lips as you saw your three best friends stood in front of you. Tommy, Arthur and Ada.

You hadn't even noticed that Tommy was walking towards you until he had crashed his lips onto yours. You, under shock, had taken a few moments to respond but kissed his back with as much passionate as you could muster. You could hear cheering coming from your family behind you and although you felt a blush creep onto your cheek, you continued to kiss Tommy, savouring the moment as you didn't know how long it would last.

You eventually pulled away and smiled at the man in front of you, his eyes were still closed and his forehead was pressed against your own. You didn't dare to look away as you didn't want to be forced back into the reality that you were supposed to marry someone else.

You saw Thomas' eyes flutter open and once they did, his hands immediately came to your cheeks where he wiped away the tears that had made its way down your face. You hadn't even realised that you had started crying and couldn't help but let out a laugh upon seeing the residue of your mascara smudged all over Thomas' hands.

You saw the sides of his mouth perk upwards before he spoke to you in a low voice. "I missed that sound" he admitted, "I missed you" he continued.

"I missed you too, Tom, but I'm supposed to be getting married, like, right now-"

Thomas had cut you off before you could speak. "what do you think I'm doing here, huh?" he asked.

You could see your relatives sneaking past you and out of the door but you didn't pay attention to them. "What?" you asked, your brain unable to produce any other words.

"Its over. I dealt with it. You're not fucking getting married to that twat. And besides, did you really think someone would really just leaving you at the altar while you look like that?" he smirked, by then everyone had left the church, only you and Tommy were stood in the middle of the aisle.

"How did you do it?" you wondered.

"Don't worry about that, love" Tommy dismissed and when he saw your eyebrows shoot up in worry he scoffed "I didn't kill the lad, I'll admit I thought of it, but i didn't," he admitted.

"Then how?"

"I do own a legitimate business, Y/N"

"So you just stole money from Shelby Company Limited? I don't think your business partners would be too happy with that" you scolded, a playful smirk planted on your face.

"Fuck them"

"Tommy!"

"Y/N, i spent three days of my life thinking that I had lost you forever, i couldn't deal-"

"Three days? Did you just forget about me for the last two?"

"I spent the last two days executing my plan"

"Your plan?"

"Yes."

"And you just knew this plan would work?"

"Yes."

"Whys that?"

"You don't fuck with the Peaky Blinders, darling" he whispered before closing the gap between you both. You could feel his hand gripping your hair as he kissed you, his other hand gripping your thigh, pulling you towards him.

Your big white dress prevented you and Tommy from gaining any friction and Tommy made it clear that he wasn't pleased with it by letting out a grunt and moving his hand from your hair to the zip of your dress.

"Tommy" you moaned, you had wanted to tell him to stop, but having not kissed him in five days, your body didn't seem to be cooperating with your mind.

"Say that again" he demanded as he squeezed your thigh.

It was only when Tommy was halfway done zipping down your dress that you pulled away from him, but his mouth followed, desperate to return to your previous actions. "Tommy" you spoke breathlessly as you planted your other foot on the ground. He opened his eyes to look at you, his hair was a mess and his lips were swollen. It was surely a sight for sore eyes. "We can't do this. Not here." You clarified as you tried to catch your breath.

"We can't?" he asked with squinted eyes, you could see his chest rising and falling with every breath.

"Tommy we're in a bloody place of worship for crying out loud" you uttered.

Tommy nodded his head as if it was the first time he acknowledged where you were. You, in your flustered state, didn't know what else to say so you made your way towards your dressing room to get changed in your usual attire. You had just past Tommy when he had grabbed your arm and turned you to face him.

"The next time I see you in a white dress is gonna be the day you become Mrs Shelby

[sincerelymarinette]

A Recorded Life Sequel (8/10) - Miraculous Ladybug

Words: 1912 Summary: On this special day, Marinette and Adrien celebrate Alya and Nino along with a bunch of their friends and family with a nice video. Author’s Note: Ahhh this was fun. Sorry for such a long hiatus! School and writer's block has been killing me, but we're finishing off strong! Also, this is about Alya and Nino's wedding. I tried to stick to the research I found on French wedding traditions, but I'm sure I westernized some of it so I tried to leave out ~too many~ details about the actual wedding. 

Prev / Next / Masterlist

Alya and Nino’s Big Day

---

"Hi! I'm Marinette!" Marinette held her camera in front of her, and there was chaos all around the room. "I'm hoping you can hear me over all the chatter and excited squeals, but there's a good reason for them!" Marinette said and turned the camera to show her best girl-friends and some of Alya's family. "It's Alya's wedding day!" She shouted, to which all the other girls screamed in excitement.

She turned the camera back around to her face, and Alya rushed over to stand by her with a big smile on her face. "And Alya asked me to vlog it for all our fans, but mostly for herself to have in the future. I even equipped Adrien with his own camera to record the boys in their room."

"It's bright and early here in Paris in the Le Grand Paris Hotel, thanks to Chloé and her dad for letting us throw our wedding here!" Alya said. "Before we start getting ready, I think we should show off the whole bridal party," Alya suggested.

Around the room, girls were doing their hair and chatting, excited to all be back together and celebrating such a fun and important event. "Obviously, Mari is here and is my right-hand. I think American's call it maid-of-honor, and I think that's close enough to what she is," Alya tried to explain. There was, for good reason, a lot of French-speaking going on in this video, but also a good amount of English to make things easier for her viewers. However, Marinette didn't mind making the captions. Alya started to lead her around the room to make sure everyone had a moment to shine on the video. And she even asked Adrien to do the same for the boys and Nino, since she was sure Nino would probably forget.

Alya and Nino decided they wanted to have bridesmaids and groomsmen at their wedding, even if tradition went against that, but they really wanted to feature their friends. Not all the girls in the room were bridesmaids; she just wanted to celebrate with all her friends even if they aren't in the wedding entirely. They can still have a party!

Alya showed off her three sisters and mother and Nino's mother first, then started to get into her friends. She had two friends from work and University that she's known for a few years now, along with a ton of her friends from school.

Rose, Juleka, Alix, Myléne, and Sabrina got a few seconds to talk each, and they also weren't in the wedding, but were so excited to be attending and celebrating with her. They just enjoyed seeing Alya and getting ready for her big day with her, too.

After the events of Hawkmoth, Chloé and Alya got a lot closer, and Alya was happy to have Chloé with her on her wedding day. Every so often, they fight crime together, but they've kept up a friendship between Alya, Chloé, and Marinette that no one expected to go as far as it had. Especially since Alya gets to write articles and interview Chloé sometimes depending on what her career takes her to next. Marinette has even designed some exclusive outfits for her! And Chloé was so excited about the wedding she let Alya and Nino throw it at The Hotel at a pretty low price. Hell, even their Kwamis were out and talking to each other in the closet to celebrate.

After showing off all her friends, Alya pulled the camera back to her. "Now we have to get ready for the ceremony. I'm sure I'll steal the camera and take some b-roll, or I'll make Marinette take some," She promised. "And I told Marinette she could record at the ceremony a bit with a tri-pod, since she'll be standing next to me," Alya declared. "Or maybe I can give a camera to another person," She pondered, and started to walk away to her mother calling her over.

Marinette laughed a bit and signed off from this segment. "There will be a lot of footage; she has no need to worry," Marinette said, then Alya called for her. "I am being summoned. Here's where Adrien's footage should come in, then we'll see you at the ceremony!" Marinette said, and ended her recording for now.

For the boys, it was a bit more chaotic in their room. Adrien was trying to get some videos, but Nino was freaking out about his shoes. He was sure he was going to lose something, and when he first woke up, he thought his phone was missing. It was on the floor. Then it turned to him losing his jacket, which was just behind another almost identical jacket, and now it was his shoes. Adrien knew they would show up in a few minutes, but Nino was super nervous (for a good reason), and it was apparent his nervousness was hiding in losing some items.

Adrien was able to distract Nino for a few minutes for him to talk about the special day, then Adrien moved into showing off all their friends. Nino's brother and dad, Alya's dad, and their friends from school. Ivan, Kim, and Max said some nice things about Nino and Alya, and even Luka was there to celebrate with them.

As Adrien was talking to the group, Nino was in the background that he found his shoes. "What do you guys think he's going to lose next?" Adrien asked them, and they all agreed that it would be his tie.

They were right, and Adrien was back to trying to calm Nino down and that he had checked over everything hundreds of times, so how would Nino have lost things? Even Adrien and both Nino and Alya's dads double-checked everything for Nino, but he was still convinced he'd mess something up. Adrien ended his segment of the video pretty quickly because he needed to deal with calming Nino down and getting ready, but everyone got to talk to the camera at least a little bit.

---

For the record, Nino ended up not losing anything besides his mind when he saw Alya standing in front of him. Marinette and Adrien stood beside Alya and Nino, along with their siblings, as the ceremony went on. One of the cameras was set up on a tripod to catch a wide-angle, and the other was given to another friend to get some close-ups.

Alya and Nino forewent some traditions, but kept a lot of them, too. She had a grand entrance, but they all got ready at the hotel to make it easy. They also really wanted to have their best friends and siblings standing with them just to make things extra special. They had all their friends and family for the ceremony, and it was a pretty big wedding.

It had been such a long time coming for them to get married; they wanted to go all out. Alya and Nino live such busy lives; they deserve the big wedding and big party. And everyone was excited to see them get married after being engaged for so many years, but it was all worth it in the end.

A few hours after the ceremony, it was time for the party—lots of dancing, a big meal, and delicious desserts catered by Sabine and Tom. Nino put together some music for the party, though they also hired one of his DJ friends to round it all out so Nino wasn't constantly focusing on the music, and one of Alya's journalist friends was the photographer they hired. In addition to Marinette's video, there would be tons of photos to remember the day.

Alya made sure to talk to everyone there, thanking them for coming and catching up with people. Sam with Nino, but Alya was a bit more on top of it.

"This is perfect for them," Marinette said to Adrien as they got away from the crowd.

"They really deserve it," Adrien responded, so happy and so proud of his friends. "You should have seen how stressed Nino was this morning. I wasn't able to take much video because of it."

Marinette laughed. "Alya said he would be stressing over a lot of little things. But that's okay, as long as you got some, I think they'll be happy."

Before either of them could continue the conversation, they were cut off by a few of their friends coming over for a chat. They talked about the wedding and why no one has seen Adrien recently; he's been a bit busy rebranding his company.

As Marinette and Adrien mingled around, they ran into another familiar face. "When is your wedding?" Jagged Stone asked as he spotted the two. Marinette was both a bit surprised and yet not surprised that he was there; Nino and he developed a good friendship after going on tour together a few times.

"Jagged, you can't just ask that," Penny scolded.

"Oh, yes, I can," He said. "When's the wedding?"

Marinette shook her head at him. "We're a bit busy with our careers right now. And we like what we've got; we're not in a rush," Marinette explained.

"But don't worry, you'll be the first person we send an invite to," Adrien promised.

"I better be!" Jagged joked.

Marinette looked between Jagged and Penny. "Did you guys get your invitation to the Emilie's fashion show? I was going to follow up, but like I said, we've been super busy."

"We did! We're clearing my schedule to make sure I can be here for it, but we definitely will be," Jagged declared. "Just got a few things to move around."

"Great! We're excited for it, though a bit nervous," Adrien told him.

Jagged brushed off his nervousness and reminded him that he had no reason to be nervous; this fashion show was only going to make things better. It might've calmed Adrien down for a few minutes, but he was still stressing out.

After Jagged made his way out of the conversation to go talk to some other people, Marinette pulled her camera out to get some shots of the whole crowd. She got almost everyone to give Alya and Nino a small, few seconds, message each to put at the end of the video to make sure that Alya and Nino would see how excited everyone was for them.

Finally, to end out the video, she managed to catch Alya and Nino in a moment of peace. "Anything you would like to add to your video?" Marinette asked them.

"Yes," Alya said. "I know I said it earlier, but I'm so glad we've stuck together after all these years and all the ups and downs. It's been so worth it, and now it's going to be for the rest of our lives," Alya said and kissed Nino before he could respond to it.

Once they released, Nino turned back to the camera. "I totally agree. With us being so busy, it's been a little hard on our relationship, but I'm glad we've pushed through. I love you!" Nino ended it.

Marinette had both of them wave to the video, and it faded out of them talking to a video of them slow dancing in the middle of the room with a song Nino made for Alya. It was a perfect day for them, and all their friends were there to celebrate, and now it was saved forever in a video.

---

@lady-of-the-roses-and-lilies @bookishserendipity03 @avatheexceed @gkz10 @coccinellegirl @kat-thatoneweirdo @strawberryblondish @snow-swordswoman @lilgaga98 @evufries  @toodaloo-kangaroo

[zekroudon]

Dinner with the in-laws

Adrien's first dinner with Marinette's parents since they officially got together. A lot of puns ensues. As usual, you can read it on Ao3 here.

This was the fic I wrote for my application for the Totographs zine, but I didn't get picked, but I'm proud of myself for applying! Once again, beware, lots of puns ahead. 

P.S. I won't be writing fanfics during November since I'm attempting Nanowrimo for the first time! It might not have been the best idea since I still have my classes, but I'll manage.

Edit: Thanks @komorebirei for beta-ing and their insightful tips.

   As Adrien stands in front of the door to Marinette’s home, the bouquet he got for her feels heavy and useless. He has already given so many roses to her, but they feel meaningless compared to how grateful he is to still have her in his life. Her parents must know how amazing she is — they’ll be disappointed…

   He’s hit by flashbacks to the events that led to Tom being akumatized into Weredad. Coming to the bakery after a lonely breakfast. The grey gloomy sky. The awkward kissing Marinette on the cheeks. The pink rose. Admitting he loved Ladybug, Ladybug and not Marinette, an irony Plagg kept teasing him about now that he was fully aware of her identity. Marinette being too good of an actress at being hurt. The enormous tower of vines with the angry beast on top protecting his princess. Ladybug only appearing at the end when everything was crumbling…

   Even though Nino assured him it was casual enough, yet fancy, and that Marinette would like it—a light green buttoned shirt, with only the top two buttons undone, and dark jeans—Adrien feels like he’s underdressed. Plagg phases through his shirt and looks him in the eyes.

“Just press the doorbell! I’m starving and I can’t wait to see Sugarcube!”

“Plagg, what if I mess up again? What if they hate me?”

   Adrien starts fidgeting with the bouquet in his hands. He wipes his sweaty palms on his pants.

“How could they hate you? I’m pretty sure Pigtails couldn’t hate you.”

“But, what if…”

   The kwami presses the doorbell and returns to his warm pocket while dread fills Adrien. He hears the steps creak lightly as someone comes down to open the door. Is it Tom? No probably not—he’s heavier and the steps would creak more. Maybe Sabine? She can also be very scary when she wants to…

   The door opens and relief floods his body at the sight of his lady, princess, and girlfriend. Marinette is wearing a pink dress with a black jacket. He didn’t fail to notice the small cat paws and the kitty she embroidered on the jacket. The dress is fairly simple to the casual eye, but having been raised in the fashion industry for so long, he recognizes all the hard work she put into the hems and her trademark flower motif. Her black hair, free from the usual pigtails, cascades in waves over her right shoulder.  

“You look… beautiful,” are the only words that escape his lips.

“Thank you, you look great too!”

“So… These are for you!” he says, extending the flowers to her.

“Thank you! They’re pretty...” She leans her head into the bouquet, smelling its perfume. “They smell amazing too! Let’s go upstairs so I can put them in some water.”

   Adrien follows her as they enter the apartment over the bakery. Delicious scents hit him as they step inside. Except for the usual sweets from the bakery, he can smell a plethora of aromas he is not familiar with. An overly excited Tom practically bounces to him, followed by Sabine, who looks more calm and composed. Adrien swears the man is about to burst from how much he is shaking and buzzing with energy. He kisses Sabine’s cheek and extends his hand to shake Tom’s, who gladly accepts.

“Welcome, Adrien, we’re glad you could make it! We could not wait to meet the young man that stole our little daughter’s heart.”

“The pleasure’s all mine! Thank you for having me for dinner.”

   Once Tom let go of his hand, it instinctively went to rub the back of his neck, his usual tic when he’s nervous. Fear fills him as the man’s eyes grow big like saucers when a ray of light hits his ring, making it shine a little. Does he recognize him as Chat Noir? Marinette looks at him, unsure of what to make of her father’s reaction.

   He then turns and picks up Sabine. He whirls her before doing a pirouette himself.

“Our little daughter is engaged! She proposed to Adrien! We need to prepare the wedding cake, it’ll be the best Paris has ever seen!”

“Tom, dear…” Sabine says, trying to bring back her husband to Earth, with no success.

“What?” is the only word that escapes Adrien’s mouth.

   “Is it another case of Oblivio?” Adrien asks himself. ”Last time I checked, we were only dating…” He realizes at the same time as Marinette what gave Tom the idea, but she’s quicker to react. He thought that Adrien’s miraculous was an engagement ring. Though, it’s not on the correct hand…

“We’re not engaged, Papa!!” shouts Marinette, calming her father. “The ring’s, um…”

“It was from my mother, it’s not a wedding ring. Not that I would mind being engaged to Marinette, she’s amazing and any guy or girl would be crazy to turn her down. I mean, I’d gladly propose to her, but I don’t want to go too fast and I’d rather have your blessing before…”

   He is stopped by a hand on his arm. Sabine looks up sweetly at him, just like she did with Chat Noir all those years ago.

“It’s okay, dear, we know you love our daughter very much—it’s obvious in your eyes. Tom just tends to get ahead of things. That poor Chat Noir, I hope he wasn’t too traumatized.”

“I don’t think he is…” Adrien shyly replies.

   Since he arrived a bit early, Adrien offers to help make dinner. Considering his lack of ability in the kitchen, he gets vegetable duty, since it’s pretty straightforward and he won’t risk ruining the meal with a beginner’s mistake by putting in too much spice or causing a fire.

“You know, I can’t believe no one ever taught you to cook—but at the same time, knowing your father, it does make sense.”

“Yeah, I  carrot  believe it either. I guess he expected me to  stew  in the mansion and have a cook for my entire life.”

“Even for you, that was pretty bad,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Finish slicing them, it’s nearly ready...”

“I don’t know about that, young lady—there’s always  thyme  for puns,” replies Tom with a smirk, a fire lit in his eyes. “Once you’re done Adrien, I’ll  knead  some fruits for dessert

“Of course! Would you help me,  gourdgeous  princess? We make the perfect  pear , after all.”

“I think you’ll be  apple  to do it yourself, my prince.”

“Ah, you leave me  floured  ! You know I only have  pies  for you.”

“You’re such a weirdo…”

“Maybe, but I’m your  weirdough  and you  loaf  me.”

“See, Sabine, they were  baked  for each other. I’m sure  muffin  could break them apart.”

   A little bit later, once they are all sitting at the table, plates set and food served.

“This is so delicious! I don’t think my chef has ever made me something this good!”

“I doubt your chef would have cooked this—it’s not really suited for a model’s diet,” Sabine says. “But thank you. I could show you some recipes if you want.”

“I’d love that, Mrs. Cheng! Well, I’m  bacon  track now, I’m no longer following a diet as strict as before: no more drumsticks and crumbs.  Dough , I have to admit that I would have been  toasted  if my father had found me eating a meal like this.”

“You can call us Sabine and Tom, dear, no need to be so formal.”

“I’m glad to hear that! You sure could add more meat to those bones of yours,” Tom adds jokingly.

“The  yeast  he could have done was to let you see your friends more often,” Marinette replies drily.

“It’s okay, it’s all behind us now. The  bread  of akumas, the  pain …” He adds, giving Marinette a slice of bread. She shakes her head, but still takes it.

“Doughnut  worry, son, you’ll always be welcome here. I could show you the ropes of a baker’s job! I  croissant  your talent.”

   The rest of the main meal goes well—more puns, talking about their future and hopes. Adrien loved the fact that Tom and Sabine didn’t expect him to follow in his father’s footsteps and take the reins of Gabriel, unlike almost everyone else in his life. Instead, they encouraged him when he said that he would need some time to figure out what he really wants to do with his life, to forge his own path.

   As Marinette ices the cake, Adrien finishes slicing the fruits and placing them. His fingers are all sticky and stained from the juices, but he’s the happiest he’s ever been. He feels like he’s part of a family, in a house filled with love, warmth, and fun. He dips his finger in some cream that has fallen from Marinette’s pouch. She’s fully focussed on the task at hand, just like when she was figuring out an especially complicated lucky charm in a face-off with a strong akuma. He gets an idea. It’s a bit mischievous, but a good one.

   Smirking, he carefully sneaks behind her, channeling his inner Chat Noir. Once he’s close enough, he pokes her nose with his cream coated finger. She jerks back into his arms and squeezes the icing bag, making it explode. Their faces and clothes are covered with icing.

“Ch-Adrien!”

“See, m’ lady, I always told you that you’re  la crème de la crème  . Getting my miraculous was an  ameowzing  day in my life, but meeting you was the  icing on the cake ,” he whispers in her ear.

“Shh! They’ll hear you!”

   Her scolding expression lingers for a bit longer, but she soon bursts out laughing.

“I can’t believe you! All this for puns?”

“I felt like I needed to remind my girlfriend of how amazing she is...”

   Tom and Sabine turn the corner to the kitchen, taking in the mess the two made.

“What are you two  loafing  about… Oh, that’s quite the mess, isn’t it?” Tom asks, stopping in his tracks.

“Go change into your pyjamas, I’ll finish icing the cake in the meantime,”Sabine sweetly adds, opening the fridge to get more icing.

   As they walk past the counter to go change, Marinette picks a cherry and perches it on Adrien’s nose.

“You don’t need to remind me, Adrien, I’ll always  cherrysh  the  koalaty  time I get to spend with you.”

[ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes]

Blue Eyes Part 6

Summary: After the Garrison is shot up, the youngest Shelby daughter finds a new home in London. She strips herself of her last name and tries to live a peaceful life far away from her brothers’ chaos in Birmingham. But fate leads her right back into it after she runs into Alfie Solomons.

Part 6: Ella grieves the loss of what she once had. Tommy tries to burn any remnants of it.

          “She won’t eat.” Ada came downstairs and placed the untouched plate of food on the table. It had been three days since Tommy caught Ella and Alfie together. The Shelby girl refused to leave her old bedroom. “She won’t even open the door.”

           Her brothers were all sat in the kitchen, Polly putting on the kettle. Tommy was on his third cigarette of the morning and he hadn’t even eaten breakfast yet. “Are you pleased with yourself?” Their aunt put her hands on her hips and glared at Tommy.

           “Pol, not now.” He muttered and rubbed his eyes. He was still trying to get the image of Alfie kissing his sister out of his mind. Trying to forget the sound of her crying every night in the room next to his. It made him conflicted, pulling him in two different trains of thought. He wanted to apologize and yet he wanted to scold her for being so careless and lying.

           “You could’ve taken her aside and asked her about it.” His aunt ignored his weary request. "You didn't have to have her followed. I'm sure it would've gone better if you just asked about her in private.

           “So she could just lie to me again?” Tommy retorted sharply. "Pol, I gave her plenty of opportunities to admit it to me and she just looked me right in the eyes and lied."

           “I’m just upset you didn’t fucking shoot him,” Arthur spoke up. "Fucking deserves it didn't he?"

           Tommy wanted to say yes, he did deserve it, but there was a matter of policy. “He didn’t know. Was just as surprised as I was when he found out. If he does it again I will shoot him.” He promised.

           “What in the fucking world does she see in him?” John asked in disbelief. He’d nearly keeled over when he heard what happened from Arthur. Never in a million years did he expect it, even after what happened at Tommy's wedding. "I mean honestly? He's just a fucking psychopath, ain't he? She's not crazy enough to fall for someone like that."

           Ada leaned against the wall, crossing her arms over her chest. “Maybe you should all be a bit kinder to her. She was hysterical when she came home.” She scolded her brothers. “Maybe she knows him better than you lot do.”

           “Oh, pardon me, Ada, shall I tell you ‘bout the time he shot Billy Kitchen and had me nicked?” Arthur retorted. “’Cause the entire fucking time I was thinking, ‘what a nice bloke he is, yeah, wish he’d kiss me fucking baby sister!’.”

           “Don’t speak to me that way!” Ada snapped.

           Suddenly, Tommy held a hand out. “Sh, shut up!” He smacked his brother upside the head when he wouldn't hush. “Shut your fucking mouths and listen.” The kitchen went quiet and finally, everyone heard what he did. Footsteps on the roof. John and Arthur withdrew their guns, thinking it was an enemy or some intruder, but Tommy knew better. “She’s making a run for it.” He jumped up and rushed out of the apartment. “Ella!” He came out onto the street and caught his sister traversing across the top of Watery Lane. He cursed himself for teaching her how to escape via the roof. “Get down here now.”

           His sister ignored him, instead carefully picking her way over the shingles towards the back of the building. There, she had enough wires, balconies, and window ledges to safely make it down.

           Tommy cursed and went back inside, pushing past his family and running through the apartment out to the back alleyway. He caught sight of her disappearing through the narrow alley, hidden by clothes and sheets on laundry lines. “El!” He shouted and chased her.

           It was a pretty even match. Both of them knew Watery lane like the back of their hand, Tommy was fit but Ella was petite and could slip easily between the gaps of the cramped buildings. Still, Tommy was always a bit sharper and he took a shorter way to cut her off.

    ��      Ella screeched to a halt and faced off with him, breathing heavily from running. “Tommy, I’m going back to London.” She warned in a low voice. “You can’t keep me here against me will.”

           “You think I’m trying to punish you?” Tommy made sure he was close enough to grab her if she decided to take off again. “I’m doing this for your own fucking good, El.”

           “Really?” She scoffed. “Is that what you call it?”

           “You’re playing with fire, you don’t even know.” He cleared his throat to catch his breath. “Do you know what he would’ve done if he found out and I wasn’t there?” He demanded.

           Ella’s chest tightened when he even hinted at the idea. “He would never hurt me.”

           “You being so naïve tells me that you’re not ready to live alone in London. Now he could have people looking for you. You’re staying here. I'm making sure he doesn't get revenge for what you did to him.”

           “He would never hurt me!” She repeated herself louder. “You don’t know him like I do, he cares about me.”

           “Didn’t look like it to me!” Tommy raised his voice to meet her volume.

           “The only reason he left was because of my family. Because of you! The one thing in my life I can’t choose. But I’m going to make it up to him. I never want to see you again. Not after the shit you pulled.”

           “If you go back there, he’ll kill you.” Tommy was so sure of it. Someone who deceived Alfie Solomons didn’t have a good chance of survival. He'd only narrowly avoided such a fate so many times.

           “He’s not some monster.” Her hands curled into fists. “He was kind and sweet and for the first time in my fucking life I had someone listen to me.” Tears formed again in her ice-blue eyes. “He listened to me and he cared about me more than you lot ever did. A-And I lied to him, but I know he still cares for me.”

           Tommy could see in his sister’s eyes that she truly believed the words she spoke. The pain on her face was undeniable. She truly had fallen for that man. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

           “I’m not staying here.” Ella asserted again. “I have a life in London. And if Alfie never wants to see me again, then so be it. But I’m not rotting away in Birmingham. I’d rather be heartbroken in London.”

           He couldn’t imagine the weeks of hell he’d have to go through if he attempted to keep her there. Endless amounts of escape attempts crossed his mind. It sounded like a nightmare. His sister was an adult. Ada and Polly wouldn’t let him get away with locking her in her room for the rest of her life no matter how much he might want to. “Stay at Arrow House for a week.” He tried to bargain.

           “No.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

           “Just until I know that you’re safe.”

           “No.”

           “Ella…” He groaned and raised his head to the small sliver of gray sky poking out between the gaps in the buildings. “Just one week and I’ll pay your rent in London for the rest of your life.”

           She pursed her lips. “And I can have the dapple whenever I visit Warwickshire.”

           “Fine.”

~~~~~~~~~~

           Tommy was getting used to the stares he got when he walked through Camden Town. But this time, it was as if he’d grown three heads. Everyone stopped to watch him walk towards the bakery. He did his best to ignore it and went straight for Ollie who was by the heavy double doors.

           The curly-haired man looked up. A nervous look crossed his face. “Alfie’s not seeing anyone right now.”

           To say the Jewish gangster was in a foul mood was an understatement. After his heart was broken, Alfie raged through the bakery. He shouted at anyone who even remotely stepped in his path, threatened anyone slacking off, and knocked out at least five men. No one knew what had set the man off, but it had something to do with the Blinders because he kept mumbling about ‘fucking Shelbys’ under his breath.

           “I don’t care,” Tommy replied. He was angry with the man as well. Angry that he’d been so foolish with his sister, traipsing about London with her on his arm. Putting a target on her back for the Italians, the Titanic, anyone who decided Alfie Solomons needed to be knocked down a few pegs.

           Ollie chewed on the inside of his cheek and nodded slowly. “Let me ask, wait out here.”

           Alfie had barked out a laugh when his assistant said Tommy was waiting outside. A storm formed in his eyes when he allowed him to pass through. Ollie searched the Blinder and let him into the office.

           “Morning, Mr. Solomons.” Tommy took a seat across from the man’s desk.

           “Cut the shit, Tommy, whatdya want?” Alfie demanded. “M’very fucking busy.”

          He calmly took out a cigarette and lit it. “My sister lied to the both of us. I understand you’re upset. But I want to know that her life isn’t in danger.”

           “She’s a fucking Shelby innit she? Her life is always in danger.” Alfie didn’t want to even speak her name. He felt so scorned and yet, he couldn’t get the image of her out of his head. To think only her last name kept him away from her.

           “I was talking about you.”

           He scoffed. “Mate, you don’t hafta worry ‘bout me, right, ‘cause I never want to see her again. She ain’t worth the trouble, already wasted enough of me time on her.” He tried convincing himself that everything they shared was nothing more than a farce. It was meaningless. But he was tormented with the memories of her smiling at him, speaking tenderly to him, making him laugh, and touching him without flinching. How could she appear so genuine when she was keeping such a big lie?

           “Then we’re settled.” Tommy stood and took another drag of his cigarette. “As long as you stay away from her, we won’t have an issue.”

           Alfie stared off into space, his fingers grazing over his beard. “Just fuck off, Tom, I’ve had fucking enough of your gypsy family.” He snarled.

           Tommy lingered just to remind the man that he would return if so much as a finger was laid on Ella. “Don’t make me come back.”

           That was enough to make him snap. He rose with such a fury, his hands slamming down on the desk. “You fucking threatening me?” He shouted. “You’re lucky I don’t shoot you right now, mate!”

           “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you the other day,” Tommy replied coolly. “You’re lucky me brothers weren’t with me because they wouldn't have even let you get a word in.”

           Alfie’s eyes narrowed and he pulled out his gun from his waistband. With a click, he pointed it at the Blinder’s forehead.

           Tommy merely flicked his cigarette to the ground and calmly walked back over to the desk. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to the barrel of the gun. “Do it.” He prompted casually. “Then she’ll finally see what a fucking monster you are. She’ll never go back to you.”

           Fire raged in Alfie. He wanted so desperately to pull the trigger. His shoulders heaved and he glared right at the man. But then Ella’s touch returned to him. The way she clung to him, buried in the crook of his neck. What she said to him when they swayed together in the crowded club.

           I want my family to like you.

           Alfie’s hand shook as he slowly lowered the gun. No matter how angry he was with her, he could never do that to her. “Get out of me fucking office.” He growled.

           Tommy waited for a breath before turning and leaving without another word.

~~~~~~~~

           Ella returned to London after a week of staying at Warwickshire. She didn’t enjoy the little break from the city air. She was still thinking about how she’d hurt Alfie. How there was little to nothing she could do to make it up to him. She attempted calling him late at night when no one was awake in the large estate. But he never answered.

           When she returned to her apartment, she felt lost. The established life she had made for herself in the city was suddenly lacking the appeal it once had. She realized she didn’t have a place anywhere anymore. Not in Birmingham, not in Warwickshire, not in London. Alfie had made her feel so at home and so assured in herself as a person. But she had lied. Now she felt fake and undeserving of anything. Certainly, she didn’t deserve Alfie’s affection. He had trusted her and she had taken that trust and tossed it aside.

           It kept her up at night, her conscience admonishing her for being so cruel to a man that had treated her so well. But her heart still longed for him. She couldn’t stop thinking about him even if there was little to no chance that they would ever be together again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

          Alcohol was a vital medication for Shelbys. The cure for anything. Everything from general pain, headache, insomnia, to heartaches. Ella told herself she would never turn out to be the drunkard her father was. The angry man who she only had memories of how he always stunk of gin and whiskey. She never drank like her brothers did. Usually only accepting a glass or two when they were celebrating. The rest of them seemed to turn to liquor at every viable opportunity.

Now, she knew why. It alleviated so many of her pain. So every night after work, she kept a bottle of wine close. Every weekend she went out to the club with friends. Every morning, she woke up with a massive hangover that she was slowly growing used to. Every morning, she wanted to cry when she saw herself in the mirror. The face of a woman who had shattered the only man she loved.

To cope, she simply found comfort at the bottom of a bottle.

Ada became worried and called every night and every morning to check in with her, making sure she arrived safely home and hadn’t drunk herself to death. She voiced her concerns to her brothers but they couldn’t get close enough to talk with Ella. Polly tried showing up multiple times but her niece was always out.

~~~~~~~~~~~

It all came to a head one Saturday night, but no Shelby was there to save her from herself and the world around her.

“El, think you’ve had enough.” Even Amelia, who was used to partying, was growing uneasy from her friend’s reckless behavior.

Ella ignored her and took the glass of gin from the bartender. “Nonsense,” she giggled and shrugged her friend off. “It’s still so early, we've got the entire night ahead of us!”

Amelia’s forehead wrinkled. “El…”

She threw back the drink, hardly affected by the bitter taste anymore. “I’m going to go dance, don’t wait up.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Alcohol was a vital medication for Shelbys. The cure for anything. Everything from general pain, headache, insomnia, to heartaches. Ella told herself she would never turn out to be the drunkard her father was. The angry man who she only had memories of how he always stunk of gin and whiskey. She never drank like her brothers did. Usually only accepting a glass or two when they were celebrating. The rest of them seemed to turn to liquor at every viable opportunity. 

            Now, she knew why. It alleviated so many of her pain. So every night after work, she kept a bottle of wine close. Every weekend she went out to the club with friends. Every morning, she woke up with a massive hangover that she was slowly growing used to. Every morning, she wanted to cry when she saw herself in the mirror. The face of a woman who had shattered the only man she loved. 

            To cope, she simply found comfort at the bottom of a bottle. 

            Ada became worried and called every night and every morning to check in with her, making sure she arrived safely home and hadn’t drunk herself to death. She voiced her concerns to her brothers but they couldn’t get close enough to talk with Ella. Polly tried showing up multiple times but her niece was always out. 

~~~~~~~~~~~`

            It all came to a head one Saturday night, but no Shelby was there to save her. 

            “El, think you’ve had enough.” Even Amelia, who was used to partying, was growing uneasy from her friend’s reckless behavior. 

            Ella ignored her and took the glass of gin from the bartender. “Nonsense,” she giggled and shrugged her friend off. “It’s still so early!” 

            Amelia’s forehead wrinkled. “El…” 

            She threw back the drink. “I’m going to go dance, don’t wait up.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Alfie did not like going to clubs anymore. He’d gone back to despising the loud, crowded spaces. It reminded him of the times he would take Ella dancing. How they would have intimate conversations on the dance floor, the way she clung to him while they swayed. 

            He grumpily shoved his way through the crowds to get to the bar. He had debts that were owed by the owner. Now he was in a terrible mood that he had to be there himself instead of sending one of his men. The last time he’d done that, the owner threatened them. So Alfie had to go himself. 

            Ella was oblivious to the Jewish gangster’s entrance. She was dancing with a man who was a complete stranger to her, but simply the first open arms. She was having the time of her life, buzzed on the gin she’d consumed, and so happy to be distracted by her heartache. 

            But she wasn’t too keen on the man letting his hands wander. She was just clear-headed enough to push him away. 

            “Fuck off.” She slurred and tried to pull away from the man. 

            “C’mon, love.” He kept an iron grip on her and grabbed at her. 

            “Ow, stop!” She shouted and stomped down on his foot with her heel. “I said fuck off!”

            He cursed and raised a hand to backhand her across the face. 

            Unfortunately, his wrist was caught by Alfie Solomons. The gangster looked livid with the seedy man trying to assault the woman. 

            Ella froze and for a moment thought she had drunkenly conjured up an image of Alfie. 

            “Mate, I suggest you fucking step away from the lady.” 

            The man went a little pale at the sight of the notorious baker. “Mr. Solomons…I weren’t…she started it.” He stammered. 

            Not looking amused, Alfie laughed. “Oh fucking hell, you should be thanking me for stepping in when I did, mate. That girl right there was ‘bout to fucking gut you like a pig. Yeah, keeps a blade on her. Then, ‘course, I couldn’t help you after that, wouldn’t be Kosher, would it?” 

            “I-” The man backed away with wide eyes. “I’m sorry…” He spluttered before disappearing into the crowd of dancers. 

            Alfie and Ella stood face to face on the dance floor. She was swaying slightly from the alcohol. 

            “You need to be careful, love.” 

            “Oh fuck off.” She spat back at him. “Don’ pretend like you’re some knight in fuckin’ shinin’ armor.” Her accent became thicker and she was only another drink from being completely incomprehensible or reverting back to Shelta. 

            “You’ve been drinking too much.” He grabbed her by the upper arm but she fought him off. 

            “So what? Can do whatever I want.” She retorted and nearly fell backward when she tried to rip away from him. “M’just a fuckin’ Shelby to you anyway. You never cared ‘bout me.” 

            Alfie rolled his eyes. “C’mere, I’m taking you home.” He’d deal with the club owner and the bartender who had over-served Ella, later. 

            “I ain’t goin’ anywhere with you!” She ripped her arm away from him. “You stand there, thinkin’ you can boss me ‘round?”            

            “Not arguing with you here.” He asserted firmly and continued ushering her to the door, ignoring her attempts to shove him off. Eventually, he got her out of the club and onto the street. She scratched his hand a few times but he felt like she was going very easy on him. 

            Still, she got one more shove in, but it backfired. Ella leaned forward too far and toppled over. She caught herself before she face-planted into the curb but scraped up her hands. A drunken mess, she sat on the ground for a moment, holding her scratched up palms in front of her. 

            Alfie sighed and held out a hand to help her up. Yes, he was still upset but decided he’d feel worse if he left her there. 

            Tears sprung from Ella’s blue eyes as she slapped his hand away. “G’off.” She snapped and tried to get up by herself. “Don’t need you…don’t need my bloody family…don’t need any man.” She staggered to her feet and pointed at Alfie. “You. You just turned away from me like I weren’t worth anythin’ to you.” 

            His brow wrinkled at the accusation. “S’cuse me, but did you or did you not lie to me?” He retorted. 

            “What’d you want me to tell you, aye?” She held out her arms wide. “I’m a fuckin’ Shelby? I’m a gypsy girl? What difference does it make? Thought you liked me for me!” 

            Her words were like thin blades of ice, stabbing through Alfie’s chest and piercing right through the armor he’d formed over his heart. He stared at her and merely listened, taking on the verbal abuse without so much as flinching. But deep down he felt like he was being brought to his knees. 

            Ella wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Her makeup smudged and she looked to be in some state. Her dress was dirty from her tumble and a trickle of blood began to travel down the lines in her palms and drip from the tips of her fingers. She emulated the wild girl she once was. The Shelby girl who always was quick to roughhouse with her brothers to prove herself. Now she was proving her worth to Alfie. She was proving how hurt she was. 

            “Amelia told me all ‘bout you ‘fore we even spoke.” She continued on. Her voice thick with tears and words slurring from the gin. “But still I talked to you because I saw somethin’ different. I saw the man behind that fuckin’ reputation. Because I know people think me brothers are monsters. But I know that they aren’t. You’re the same fuckin’ way. You want people to fear you but deep down, you’re just as fuckin’ scared as the rest of us.” She approached him, invading his space, and getting right up to his face. Her blue eyes narrowed as she glared at him dead on.  “You’re afraid of dying just like everyone. ‘N you’re afraid of people forgettin’ the name, Alfie Fuckin’ Solomons.” 

            Alfie wondered if he’d forgotten how to breathe or Ella had somehow stolen the air right out of his lungs. For a split second, he wasn’t sure whether to be angry or to apologize. Apologize for being lied to? He scoffed at his own thoughts and shook his head. “Your brothers are monsters, love.” He sealed himself off from any feelings. Numbed himself up like an anesthetic and shoved away all the desperate thoughts he had for her. “And you’re their kin, ain’t ya? You lie just like them.” 

            Ella’s jaw clenched and she gritted her teeth. The alcohol in her system wasn’t doing her any favors and shut off any rational thoughts. She slapped him hard.  

            He should’ve been expecting it. After all, she’d been denied hitting the man in the club and Alfie was winding her up. But it was still another sharp blow to his ego and his heart. He couldn’t even react. 

            She spat at his feet and cursed at him in Shelta before storming away. 

            So he watched. Watched the only woman he ever loved walking away from him. Just like he had walked away from her. Her slap still stinging his cheek as she disappeared into the night. 

            Disgruntled, angry at the world, and possibly under some gypsy curse, Alfie decided it was a good time to go home. 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~

            Ada had the only spare key to Ella’s apartment. After the run-in with Alfie and Tommy, the Shelby woman had to use it much more often. She received a frantic call the next morning from Amelia saying she had no clue where Ella went the night before. 

            So, Ada walked over at the break of dawn and used the key to let herself in. She found a few dishes shattered across the kitchen floor and it caused her stomach to drop in fear. Had her sister been robbed? 

            She ran upstairs shouting for Ella. Down the hall, the door creaked open. Her younger sister stood in the doorway in a complete mess. 

            The rough night lingered on Ella like bad perfume. Her hair was still tangled in some pins, her hands were stained with dried blood that she hadn’t cared to tend to, and her entire face was blotchy from crying. Dark circles lingered under her bloodshot eyes and she still stunk of gin. 

            “El…” Ada sighed partly in relief. At least she knew her sister was somewhat okay, albeit a little worse for the wear. “What happened to you? Amelia called me in such a fright.” 

            “Sh, don’t talk so loud.” Ella closed her eyes and ushered her sister into the darker bedroom. She collapsed on her bed and moaned. “Ada, I feel like me whole life is falling apart.” 

            Ada frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. “What happened last night?” 

            “Alfie was at the club.” There was no use in lying anymore. She was too tired and didn’t care what her family knew anymore. It didn’t matter as far as she was concerned. 

            The mention of the Jewish gangster’s name was enough for Ada to need a seat. “Good God…” 

            “I got so angry.” Her younger sister continued, lying on her back and staring at the ceiling. “I just-I want to hate him but I can’t. I cared so much ‘bout him and I thought he felt the same way.” Fresh tears began to flow and she hiccupped helplessly. “Ada, it hurts so much.” She wailed. 

            Ada’s shoulders fell and she stood up to comfort her sister. “Sh, c’mon.” She sat on the bed and let Ella rest her head in her lap. “I know you’re hurting. I wish I could make it better for you.” 

            “I want him back.” It was a harsh realization to arrive at. 

            Her older sister gently stroked back Ella’s dark hair. She had said the exact same words when she lost Freddie. The world was falling apart around her as she gripped onto Polly for support. The fierce denial had driven her into a manic state. ‘I want him back! I want him back! Bring him back!’ She had screamed and cried for hours. 

            Heartbreak was the most painful emotion. Ada knew her sister was naïve when it came to love, but there was so much hurt in her eyes. What she was feeling wasn’t a little crush. Whatever she had with Alfie was something she hadn’t experienced before. 

            “I never asked to be born into this fucking family.” Ella closed her eyes. Her entire body was aching and exhausted from the night before. 

            “I know, none of us did.” Ada bit her lip. “Let’s get your hands cleaned up.” She suggested and prompted her to sit up. “I’ll put the kettle on too.” 

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~

            “Ada called this morning.” Polly walked into her nephew’s office with some documents to sign. 

            “About Ella?” Tommy knew about Ella’s downward spiral. But she wouldn’t speak to him about anything but day-to-day things. 

            How’s Charlie, Tom? 

            How’s the missus, Tom? 

            Get that new filly in, Tom? 

            Her words were detached over the phone, so much so that the pleasant conversation made him worry more. He would much rather her scream and rant at him about what he’d done. That way he’d know that it was still his sister on the other end of the telephone line. 

            Tommy wasn’t about to apologize for stepping in. He could forgive Ella for lying to him, but that didn’t mean he wanted her to go hopping on back to Alfie. 

            “She’s hurting,” Polly replied when she set down the papers in front of him. “But I think you know that.” 

            Tommy studied the contracts but the words didn’t register. “Not sure there’s anything I can do ‘bout that, Pol.” He reached for a cigarette, tossing the papers to the side to sign later. “She’s facing the consequences of her actions.” 

            His aunt raised an eyebrow and looked disappointed. “Do you think you would’ve reacted better if she came to you and told you the truth? Because I’m fairly certain you’d’ve done the same damn thing.” 

            His icy eyes flicked up to her. “Are you going to tell me I should allow her to see that man?” His voice was steady but challenging. 

            “That’s not what I said.” Polly was very good at squaring off with her nephews. They often liked to go toe to toe with her, stupidly forgetting how strong-willed she was. Out of all of them, Tommy probably pressed her the most. “But you can’t blame her for trying to find someone. I’m sure she feels lonely.” 

            Tommy cringed at the idea of Alfie keeping his sister company. “I’ve spoken to him and he doesn’t want to see her again. That’s the end of that.” He insisted firmly. “I’m done speaking about it.” 

            But Polly wasn’t done. “I’m well aware you think you know everything but I was put on this planet to remind you that you don’t. What has Alfie Solomons done that you haven’t?” 

            “Polly,” Tommy spoke in a warning tone and eyed her with a cold look. “I said I’m done speaking about it.” 

            She sighed in exasperation. “One of these days, you’re going to push that girl so far that she’ll never want to come back to this family. And I hope you’re happy when you’ve finally done it. This family needs to stay together, otherwise, we have nothing.” She jabbed a finger at him. “Don’t forget that you’re nothing without your family.” 

            Tommy allowed her to walk out with the last word. He knew she was right; he would never be where he was now without his family by his side. But that didn’t excuse Ella’s behavior. He just hoped she would get over Alfie soon and he would forget about it ever happening. 

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[mannien]

“You’re Shaking”

Pairing: Tom Holland x Millie Beaver (my own fictional character)

Summary: When Millie is supposed to be strong and emotionally ready to celebrate her sister’s wedding, the best friend arrives to the rescue. 

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, panic attacks, friends to lovers tropes, weddings 

Author’s Note: HEY! HI! I’m new at this! This is my attempt at the writing challenge made by the lovely @cunaeparker! I would post it on the deadline on the 30th, but it’s my birthday as well, so I’ll be probably busy eating chocolate then. Also, it’s a part of the fic that I’m currently writing, hence the specific characters here. If you have any questions about the plot, just ask! 

        When I first heard that my oldest sister was getting married, I knew I wanted to be a part of this. She may have not known that, but it’s been a very emotional ride for me, personally. Seeing her life roll out a red carpet in front of her, leading straight to the world of eternal love and happiness, it made me realize a lot of things about myself, too.

           First and foremost, it showed me what love should look like. Liz and David were the definition of true love for me, and I could not thank them enough for unknowingly telling me this. But months of preparation, more frequent family dinners, and a bunch of personal issues later, the reality hurt like a motherfucker. Since their eye-opening engagement, I’d been struggling with my own relationship and my own happiness.

           It’s not that I didn’t like my boyfriend Frank. If I didn’t, we wouldn’t have spent over 2 years together. He was kind, a little less thoughtful than I would like but still a decent amount, very handsome, and a tiny bit more intelligent than me in our common areas of expertise. In addition to it all, he was able to handle me, a very messy head, so there was really no reason for me not to be with him any longer.

Except, there actually was.

I never mean to point fingers either, because I don’t blame people for my feelings. But a number of conversations with my best friend also showed me that there are people caring more about me than Frank; people who are willing to sacrifice more and who pay a lot more attention to the details that make me, well, me. Although, perhaps I shouldn’t compare those two relationships; the guy who got to make out with me has known me since we took the same advanced journalism class at the university. But the one who actually knows the size of my shoe and what allergies I used to have, he’s known me forever. Of course, we had our better or worse times; months when I would be too busy writing essays to talk to him, and he would be lost in filming another blockbuster movie. But at the end of the day, he was like a brother to me. He took care of me. However, most importantly, he knew I was unhappy with Frank and he pointed it out to me a couple of times.

My sister’s happiness and my best friend’s care worked, though. They made me face the reality. They hit me in the face with it so hard that I’ve been feeling like shit for the past month. It’s been exactly a month since me and Frank broke up. To top it off, precisely two hours before the ceremony, at this gorgeous castle in the middle of nowhere in Scotland, my memory played me and told me: “Hey, Millie! It would’ve been your and Frank’s 3-year anniversary!”

This unbearable stream of thoughts hit me when I was watching Liz smile to the mirror at her glorious hairdo. It wasn’t too complicated, her hair was only curled and pinned up in a few right places, but her beaming expression was something to die for. She was ecstatic to marry the love of her life and I couldn’t blame her; it was her day, she was beautiful, and her fiancée was the nicest and most trustworthy man in the world. My torn apart heart envied her, but my face squeezed out the tiniest smile. She was happy, and nothing else was important.

“Come on Millie, let’s give her a breather.” Our middle sister pulled me out of trance. She already had her face full of a glittery, smoky makeup. Leaving Liz’s room meant we will see each other again during the ceremony, and that I needed to get my shit together.

We walked down the dark hall to where our rooms were, just a few doors apart. Our whole way from Liz’s she was on her phone and I stayed silent, patiently listening to her fingernails tapping against the screen, while I did all I could to hold back the disgustingly growing need to throw up from stress.

“Sam, could you stop for a minute?” She looked up at me, right when she was about to open the door to her room.

“What’s up?” She asked, her eyebrows narrowed in concern. I opened my mouth to say something, but I wasn’t even sure what would I allow myself to say. Should I say I’m nervous? Should I start rambling about how my heart is still aching, especially so because of the wedding? How I was supposed to have a peaceful relationship and an obvious choice of date for my sister’s big day but instead, I had to realize that I simply wasted 3 years of my life and emotional devotion?

“Do you…” I started, but nothing came out. I had to swallow down the terrible taste in my mouth. “…how do you turn off your emotions for an event like this?”

“Oh, sweetie…” She no longer had her pretty London accent. A few years in California made her tongue roll differently on each word, and I could barely feel the warmth of her voice. “I’m so sorry you have to go through this, especially now.” He hugged me, but not with all she had in her, because we both respected the effort put into her face. It saddened me, but that was the reality.

“I’m sorry, too.” I whispered.

“Hold on tight, okay? It’s gonna be alright. You’re a fierce one, Mills.”

“I wish I was.” I pity-laughed at myself, but soon regretted that. Sam’s hand slapped my arm quite harshly.

“Hey! Stop that right now. Go on, put that fancy dress you’ve got, make your eyes and lips pop, we’re the Beaver girls, right? Now chop-chop, move your arse.” She pushed me in the direction of my room with a grin. I tried to mirror her expression just for the sake of her attempt to be British again. To be homey, again.

When I was trying my hardest not to lose it emotionally, I focused on practical tasks. I mastered my makeup and sprayed myself with that setting spray the world was screaming about. My hair was a little unruly and I needed an extra bobby pin, if I wanted it to stay up and show off my dress. The self-conscious me didn’t want to, but Liz would want me to. And today was about Liz, so I fought with that high, slightly messy bun until my arms went numb.

My dress was the trickiest part. It required me to tie three bows and zip my whole back up to the neck. Maneuvering all that without messing up anything else in my appearance didn’t sound promising, and being harsh with the material wouldn’t work either. The dress was a work of art to me, so when me and Liz both looked at it one evening, she told me straight away she will ditch the sister dress code. She didn’t make us wear all similar colors, but rather encouraged me to pull the most ‘Millie Beaver’ look I was capable of. So, I ended up with a black tulle uneven material ending somewhere above my knees, going up to the waist in the tiniest folds in an A-line skirt. The see-through, sheer fabric was covered with draped embellishments made out of the tiniest sequins. They made a sort of brush-paint effect that covered my body from my bottom just above the round of my breasts. The neck and loose sleeves made of the thinnest black mesh which barely changed the color of my skin, ended with intense black stripes ready to be turned into the prettiest of bows. I don’t know if it complimented my body, but it definitely made me feel like the prettiest version of myself.

           As I was getting into the long sleeves and pulling the body above my boobs, I loud knocking noise interrupted my focus. Intuitively, I looked at the time and exhaled a calming breath, knowing I still have some time and I’m not running late. I held the top of my dress with my right hand, not wanting it to slid down when I open the door.

           Tom looked ready to knock again. His fist hovered in the air for a second, until he raised his eyes and noticed me. He smiled down at me with the warmest facial expression I was given today by anyone, or so did I think. I couldn’t help but give him a one good look over. He was dressed up in a very deep navy-blue suit; the kind of navy blue that makes each man look a hundred times more attractive. The way it clung nicely to his broad shoulders told me it was tailor made from a thick and rich material. His crispy white shirt had a few buttons unmade, so it didn’t hug his neck but rather made his throat more exposed in a way that I always tried to avoid. The smile reached his eyes and woke up the wrinkles around them, making his face look even prettier than before. His short brown locks were tucked away nicely with the tiniest amount of hair gel, and I knew right away he had done it on purpose; I’d used to make fun of the shiny look he so often went for at public events.

��          I could swear that all these details about his appearance my mind grasped within seconds. He didn’t make a funny comment about it, he just greeted me sweetly and nodded at me.

           “Hey, Mills.”

           “Hey!” I tried to return his smile in a way that would tell him how happy I was to see him. Or maybe how relieved? “Come in, just… avoid the preparation mess.” I laughed and let him in. I closed the door and unintentionally glanced at the way the suit nicely covered his muscular back and bottom. “Look at you, movie star!” I tried to whistle, but I failed and just blew into the air with a little swish to it. He turned to me with a raised brow and laughed at my poor attempt to be sassy.

           “I called you, I didn’t know if you were busy right now and I didn’t want to interrupt if you were with Liz.”

           “Oh, sorry,” I mumbled quickly, getting close to the phone that was peacefully left alone on the nightstand and charging. “I’m not feeling good, so I just wanted to get ready and face the world after.”

           “What’s wrong?” His face scrunched up in concern.

           “Just, you know…” My lips formed a tight smile. I shrugged and as it made the shoulders of my dress slide down my arms a little, I remembered that I still had to fix it and put on properly. I hugged the material tight to my chest and fought the terrible urge to bite my lips. “… a bit stressed out.” I mumbled, not willing to go into detail and break down. My mind worked really hard to change the subject as quick as possible, just because he knew I was overreacting and he would want me to be honest. It was a self-destructive behavior, really, but I couldn’t help it when the vomit was trying to make its way up my throat once again. I glanced at him fidgeting with his hands and only then noticed that he was holding two ties in his left hand. He opened his mouth to say something, but I didn’t let him. “So, spill the deal Thomas. You’ve never told me who’s your plus one?”

           He watched me carefully, as if he already knew what I was up to. I hated this about him, but he played well. A knowing smile spread across his lips as he held up the ties.

           “That’s actually one of the things I wanted to discuss with you. The last thing I want is to make you feel uncomfortable tonight, so I wanted your help with these.” He held both accessories in separate hands and put them close to his chest, comparing the way they looked with his suit.

           “You can’t choose your tie?” I asked with a chuckle, while pulling the dress completely over my shoulders and hoping it would stay in place, although unzipped and untied. “What happened to your fashion sense?”

           “Well, the fashion sense is still here, I mean…” He started cheekily, giving me a slow pirouette to show off of his outfit. “…it looks pretty good if I’m honest.” He laughed. “But no, I wanted to ask you because first of all, you know better,” the pure confidence in his voice made us both chuckle happily again. “and second of all, this option is for me going solo,” his hand holding a striped tie in different shades of blue moved to the middle. “and this one matches your dress, so that I could be your plus one.” He held up closer the burgundy one, with tiny golden embroidered elements. It was almost the exact shade that my dress had bursting out the most from the waist. We would match in a very delicate way, not overwhelming others with the similarity, but rather stating that we probably knew what we were doing.

           My heart was rapidly beating, making my insides warm up from this single gesture that he offered. I felt tears well up in my eyes. He knew I was hurting during my relationship, he saw me hurt when I fought for what I had with Frank, as well as he saw me in pain when we called it quits a month ago. My lower lip quivered, not sure if it wanted to let out a tiny sob, or spread wide in a smile. I felt confused emotionally, but the simplicity of Tom’s thought spread a fuzzy feeling across my body.

           I moved closer to him, forgetting about the lipstick and biting my lower lip. I took the dark red tie from him and straightened it up, before pulling it over his neck with a small smile. I started the first two moves that I had known from TV, but then absentmindedly started to play with the fabric, trying to look professional.

           “Do you even know how to do it?” He tried not to laugh too much at me, so his stifled joy ended up in a sucked in smile.

           “YouTube knows.” I smiled up at him. His eyes glistened in a joyful expression as he breathed out a giggle. He took out his phone from the jacket pocket and quickly searched for an easy tutorial for me.

           “Go on.” He encouraged me and held his phone up, so that I could see the instructions. I focused on the task and felt the nerves creeping away. My hands slowly relaxed and in swift motions I finished up a loose knot. He noticed my progress and threw his phone on my bed. His gaze was fixated on me; I could feel his brown eyes watching me carefully.

           “Can I finish this off?” I asked very quietly, not sparing a look at his face. My fingers hovered over the undone top buttons of his shirt and only when he didn’t reply, I looked up. He was already watching me with an expression I rarely saw on him. He was eyeing my face so closely and delicately, almost as if he tried to memorize that moment. He gently nodded his head and did so while locking our eyes. I swallowed heavily, trying to push away the nauseous feeling that crept back in as a nervous reaction. Very carefully I started working on the little buttons. Then I put his collar up to fit in the tie and gently pushed up the knot, focusing on not wrinkling anything. Then I smoothed out his shirt and smiled proudly to myself.

           “Well done!” He chuckled at my childish pride and touched up the knot himself.

           “Thank you for doing this.” I whispered, tapping lightly at his chest. I smiled up at him, feeling the tears threatening to escape again. I moved away from him; I didn’t want to become a mess shortly before such big and happy family event.

I started walking towards the bathroom and attempted to zip up my dress at the same time. Soon enough it turned into desperate fumbling with the material at the beginning of the zipper, because it sucked in a tiny piece of fabric. I couldn’t imagine taking it all off and then putting on again after a fight with the zip, my perfectly imperfect bun wouldn’t handle it well.

“Hey, could you give me a hand here?” I turned to him, as he was putting his phone back in the pocket. We used to see each other in many innocent, yet body revealing situations. Hence, we were usually comfortable with one another so that sleeping in the same bed only in our underwear was okay. We made fun of each other’s bodies and somehow, we knew them probably also for the sake of memories from our shared early childhood.

But it felt different this time. The fact that I was so emotionally exposed to him today was possibly one of the reasons why I felt nervous. I knew we were best friends, he was a brother I never had, but suddenly it felt intimate. I was conscious about the fact that I had no bra on, and although I made sure I wasn’t flashing him anything, he had to reach to my lower back to fix the zipper and then slide it across my bare skin.

“Please be gentle with it.” I added. His knuckles softly pushed against me, when he tried to slowly pull the zipper up.

“Exactly how gentle are we speaking?” He chuckled. Then he put one hand on my hip and led me slightly backwards, so that he could sit on my bed.

“Gentle as in I spent all my savings on the only dress I have for my sister’s wedding.” I turned a little to him, trying to steal a glance at what he’s doing. “It’s okay if you can’t do it, I’ll have to try…”

“Shut up, I’ve got it.” He shushed me and pushed me slightly forward again. I felt him stand up and take a light grip at the zipper, before gently pulling it up my spine. “Straighten up.” I stretched out my back as he asked, or maybe even a little too much. My hips moved backwards and made my butt hit his front. It made me feel nauseous again; I was definitely not ready for a wave of seemingly irrational feelings. It was just Tom, and yet I was scared of accidentally touching his crotch with my ass. “Alright, all pretty here.” He smoothed out the material on both my shoulders and I could feel him hesitate for a moment, before he let go of me completely.

“Thanks.” I smiled shyly at him and made my way to the mirror, before he could say I was nervous. I started working on the bow on my neckline.

“Oh, so you’re tying them all up?”

“Yeah, that’s how it’s supposed to look. So you better watch carefully, cause I can’t do the other two as pretty as this one.”

“Man, I thought I only came here to decide on a tie.” He moaned mockingly. I could see him in the mirror, he came up to stand next to me and watch my fingers in action.

“You’re free to go, I can always ask my mom to do it for me.” I shrugged, straightening up the loose ends of the bow.

“And leave my date for the night? No, thank you.” He winked at me cheekily, and I laughed at him. I pulled out my tongue at him and scrunched up my nose. “Don’t do it, your face will stay like this forever.”

“Wouldn’t you like that? At least you could laugh at me, if my jokes aren’t funny to you.” I challenged him, raising an eyebrow.

“Nah, at least one of us has to stay pretty.”

“I thought you said you were pretty?”

“The word is CUTE.” He emphasized. “And there are people who agree on this.” He added. I reached out with my hand to him, so he could try and make an even bow.

“Your granny?” And there it was. Making fun of him as a coping mechanism, whenever I was noticing the upside of his appearance and thinking about it longer than necessary.

“She’s my number one fan, so she counts.” I pointed at the longer end of the knot, so he started fixing it to make it even with the other.

“I thought she was Paddy’s number one fan. Or Sam’s for his abnormal cooking skills.” He smiled soundly at this. “But hey, don’t worry. Your best friend is your fan.”

“You mean Harrison? Yeah, he’s okay. But he’s got history of being more of an assistant, you know?” Tom snorted out a loud laugh at his word and I couldn’t stay silent at that.

“I thought you had another best friend?” He pretended to be deep in thought. I briefly checked on the ready bows and straightened up my sleeves.

“Can’t think of anyone else. Care to share?” He playfully scratched his chin like an old aristocrat. I moved around him to start gathering my things, keeping in mind that I should touch up my lipstick.

“For all I know, you’ve had one super fan ever since you met her as a wee nicked kid.”

“Wow, I must’ve had a very peculiar taste in choosing my best friends.” He laughed, and I only sent him a sideway smile. Although I was the one to encourage our fun exchange, I wasn’t sure if it made me feel comfortable. I wasn’t doubting his friendship, but sometimes I would get this nagging thought starting with ‘what if….’ I didn’t know how I felt anymore, and the sole fact that I was packing my small handbag to my sister’s wedding was near to give me a serious panic attack.

I sat down on a little chair next to the window and started doing up my deep red, velvet lace up pumps with four cross-straps that ended in tiny golden buttons. These were also way out of my every-day comfort zone, but figured as the prettiest pair of shoes I owned. Plus, they went well probably only with this dress. I actually had to spend a couple of days walking around the house in them, just so I could remember if I could walk in high heels.

I stood up, slowly moving around my feet to adjust the fit, and that’s when my mind became a complete mayhem.

“You look so foxy. You should wear heels to work, I bet they would take your ideas seriously in these.” Frank’s words kept on replaying in my head and I was ready to rip those shoes apart. I felt a terrible scrunch in my tummy and I couldn’t hold it anymore. As quickly as I could without tripping over, I made my way to the bathroom and knelt next to the open toilet, ready to empty my stomach any second. A loud sob escaped my lips when nothing would come out and I had to live through the worst wave of nausea. I started ugly-crying, letting go of every inch of calm that tried to keep my nerves under control. I leaned with my elbows on the toilet seat and just held myself there.

“Minnie, are you okay?” I felt Tom squat beside me, his hand gently laid on my back and started rubbing it in soothing circles. I just shook my head and kept on crying, unable to even talk to him. I tried taking deep breaths to calm my body down, but another loose thought about my ex-boyfriend clouded my head and I leaned over the toilet again, hoping this could end already in one way or another. Tom’s free hand went to the bow that started hanging in a risky zone and tucked it close to my chest. His other one went up, massaging slightly my neck to help me relax. “I will breathe with you, okay? It might get better if you follow.” He said in a hushed, yet stern voice. “Come on, one large in,” he inhaled loudly and I tried to mimic him. “now hold it for a second for me, let your body relax,” except that I couldn’t, and my face scrunched in misery. “It’s okay, try again Mills. It’s just a panic attack, you can get through this. Come on, breathe.”

He guided me through a few more deep cycles until my crying stopped. Somewhere during the second inhale I was breaking again, so he rested his forehead on the side of my head, right above my ear, where I could feel his breath on my skin and focus solely on it.

“That’s my girl. You’re safe with me, okay? I promise.” I only nodded rapidly. He slowly moved away to kiss my head in a protective gesture, as he used to whenever he was being affectionate with me.

“Fuck, I’m such a mess!” I groaned in frustration, still feeling the heavy beating of my heart. I sat down on the floor, trying to untangle my feet from under me and rest them somewhat comfortably, even if it meant resting my legs in the most revealing pose. I rested my back on the side of the bath and hid my face in my hands. I squeezed out a few more tears, until I felt a gentle tug on both my wrists.

“Look at me,” Tom asked sternly. He massaged my wrists and patiently waited for me to lift up my eyes to his concentrated gaze. “You’re a mess only if you let yourself feel like one. And I’m not here to see you miserable.”

“Easy for you to say! My sister’s about to get hitched and I keep on thinking about how… how I used to hope, that this would be me and Frank one day because my mind is so fucked up and… and I allowed him to treat my feelings like shit! Just because I wanted someone to fucking love me and want to have a life with me and be my fucking lover!” I let out loudly with a broken sob mid-sentence.

“For fuck’s sake, stop hurting yourself!” He raised his voice and I could feel my heart drop. “I understand it fucking hurts. And I’m so, so sorry, I know you were deeply invested in your relationship with Frank, I get it. But please, for just one moment, try to imagine how would it be if you stopped dwelling on this shit!” He took a frustrated breath and tried to remain composed. He stood up and leaned back on the sink with crossed arms. He closed his eyes, but then started watching me carefully, as if to see if I was going to snap again.

I just sat there motionlessly, too shocked to react in any way. My brain was tired from the panic attack, my body ached from the nerves, and my tongue got cut off by shame. I closed my eyes and tried to rethink my current situation, sort out my feelings. There was a part of me that wanted to reach out to hope, to reason, and to the right place in my heart. Right when I was imagining the right place for my heart, my eyes snapped open to check if Tom was still standing there. He was, eyes glued to me, posture flexed and ready to react. But his face so soft I wanted to burst out in tears again. He was this soft for me.

I reached out to him with my hands and he pulled me up from the floor.

“Exactly how many times should I fucking remind you that you’re better than this, that you actually are lovable, and that there are people who care about you more than that asshole, the one who actually called himself your boyfriend for three years but didn’t deserve it at all?” He asked gently, stepping closer to me. He swiped his thumb underneath my eye, where probably a mascara disaster was happening. Tom gave me a broken smile and it was that smile – the one that made my heart grow and get warm. And suddenly I got goosebumps across my whole body because he was the one to make my mind shut up. All that was left was pure admiration for his care, for his tender smile and for his sparkling brown eyes. This revelation made me feel incredibly exposed to him and almost made me feel shy.

“Could you tell me that one more time?” I replied quietly, still feeling the touch of his hand on my cheek. Curiosity led my voice and made me swallow hard. He smirked at me in a way that I knew made girls swoon over him. However, this time was different and I was the one over the moon.

“Millie, you are incredibly lovable and I fucking care about you. You can get through this and you will, just get your shit together.” He chuckled at the end and I mirrored his reaction, but still heard the first two most important phrases ring through my head. “You are too gorgeous to be still thinking about someone who didn’t make you happy, alright?”

“You promise?”

“Do I promise?” He asked dumbfoundedly and turned us both around, so that we were standing in front of a tall mirror. “Look at yourself, you’re a doll,” He wrapped his arm around my waist when he said that. It felt really warm and right. “you’re perfect in every inch, you look exquisite, hell I’m gonna say it…” he started before cracking a soft, almost nervous laugh. It was obvious he tried to stay composed and professional, but he broke. “you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen, that’s it. End of this discussion. Now fix your pretty face, get your fancy bag, and we’ll go see your sister at her happiest.”

I did as he asked but with the amount of warm words that kept replaying in my head, the fifteen minutes that it took me to freshen up felt like a mere second. I felt as if my body was just existing and my soul was floating beside me, intently watching my and Tom’s every move. My floating side kept pushing me into his side, knowing that it will be the best way to stay safe and content. Tom always was a gentleman, his parents raised him well. However, this time when we walked down the corridor to the stairs, and then to the foyer where some guests gathered before entering the main hall where the wedding was supposed to take place, I couldn’t stop thinking about these little gestures. Carefully keeping his hand on my lower back whenever we were turning or passing someone. Smiling down at me whenever I stole a glance at him. Letting me go everywhere first, but not before smoothly checking if there was anything I would possibly trip over. Staying by my side all the time and making sure I was okay. Of course, he was now my date to the wedding. But if any of his brothers were at his place, it wouldn’t be the same.

We were approaching more crowded groups of people and I slowed down. I started feeling incredibly self-conscious and uneasy, especially with the looks that people I knew gave me. Most probably, they looked because I was the bride’s sister, I was finally wearing heels, I had the most makeup since last Christmas, and Tom was side by side with me. Although I doubted it stunned our families that we could be seen together, there were a lot of Liz and Dave’s friends whom we didn’t know, or just old aunties who loved a good gossip. I became fully aware of all of the eyes pointed at us and I felt my insides tremble dangerously. I stopped abruptly and tried to mask my nervousness by fake-fixing my dress. Tom looked back at and raised his funky eyebrow at me, silently asking what’s up. He stepped closer to me and blocked the view of the most intense stares. I stared down at the bows at my sleeves and started anxiously rearranging the strings. I exhaled with an audible shake to my breath and closed my eyes. We stood face to face and I could feel him watching my movements.

“You’re shaking” He whispered, bringing his mouth to the side of my head. Then I felt his fingertips gently touch my hand, before he slowly slid his fingers through mine. Our hands molded together and it calmed me in a way I didn’t know was possible.

“I’m nervous.” I mumbled, so that only he could hear. He left a sweet kiss on my cheek and winked at me.

“No shit, Sherlock.” I let out a nervous laugh and he seemed pleased with my reaction. “Come on, head up, you’re gonna walk in hand in hand with Peter Parker.” He slowly maneuvered the hand he was holding so that I could easily take his arm in an elegant way

“I would rather walk in with Tom Holland.”

“You’re lucky he’s friends with Parker. You can have both.”

.

.

.

Tagging some of the people who I wish would read this bc I love their blogs even though not all of you probably love Tom but I LOVE YOU

@lauras-collection @peeterparkr @thirsttrapholland @fondlynarry @niallandtommo @heyhihellowhatsup0 @constellationsv @angel-spidey @starkissedholland

[peeterparkr]

limits of desire⤳t.h.||5

chapter 5: choose a venue

MADE OF HONOR|AU

story summary: you met Tom a night he was trying to sleep with you, it didn’t work and you became best of friends. Wedding bells might be ringing for when you both realize what you really feel.

summary: the one with the facetime and the instagram pictures

pairing: fuckboy!tom holland x best friend!reader

warnings: swearing,  angsty(a bit), tom is an idiot, alcohol mention, instagram, spanish

word count: 5.9k (whoops sorry)

As usual tell me what you think, the good shit is comiiing

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“True friendship comes when the silence between two people is comfortable.”– David Tyson  “The way to love anything is to realize that it may be lost.”G. K. Chesterton

Everybody talks about the thin line between hate and love, but nobody truly talks about how there is barely any line between friendships and love. We like to ignore it, really. 

Maybe it is because we think love is that white t-shirt and blue jeans that play the guitar in high school. Or that long hair and pink lips that are working on her project on the school library. When we don’t realize that it might be that sweater that is supporting you, all the time. 

We all have a different vision of love. It comes in all shapes, colours and languages. We imagine it perfectly, with background music and pretty words. And we expect it to come in a certain way. And we are so blinded by our vision that maybe we ignore when it finally comes. 

Tom was ignoring it, at least. He always had. Because for him, there was no vision. He simply believed that love… didn’t exist. So why expect something that simply won’t come? 

And if it were to come, Tom knew that it’d only end in tragedy. He had seen it, plays, movies, books. Always end up in tragedy. Because that was life, love, in reality, ended with the ugly breakup, the terrible argument, the cheating. 

And everything else was crap. It didn’t continue, no. Why bother? He was happy this way. He was controlling his happy endings. 

He even had controlled it with y/n. After their conversation on that bridge, he knew he had done the right thing. Because if that had been ugly any further relationship would’ve been a train wreck. And she didn’t deserve the trainwreck. 

Love ends, that’s the problem. And he didn’t want to end his future with y/n. 

Who believes in fairytales these days? Could he believe in hope? Hope relies on the simplicity of believing and expecting, based on nothing that he could base on real facts. 

He knew there was no line between his friendship and whatever love meant because there was nothing else. Still, it wasn’t a path he was willing to cross. 

Not that he could yet admit to himself, at least. But maybe the night had changed. 

“So I bumped into Andrew, he is back from his honeymoon,” Harrison commented as he was opening up a beer. Harry was opening a bag of crisps, while Sam and Tuwaine were looking at something on Sam’s phone. They were playing a round of poker, as they usually did. 

Tom wasn’t really there, not emotionally at least. 

“He is?” Asked Tom, without really caring as he stared down at his phone. He was expecting a text like he did every day. It had only been two weeks and Tom was already missing her. Y/N had never been a good texter and that had never seemed like a big problem before, until now. His fingers were caressing his phone, tapping anxiously. 

“Weren’t they gonna go out for a month?” Sam popped his head up, with a frown. 

“I don’t know, guess Mon finally got to her senses,” Harrison popped a chip into his mouth. “But honestly, can’t get why they got married, he didn’t even like her that much, Andrew was talking about divorce.” 

“I would’ve divorced as well with such a boring wedding,” Tom barged, faking a laugh. Andrew Jacobs and Monica’s wedding, funny, Tom thought. The wedding that had ruined his relationship with y/n.  It had been one night. Full of doubt and with a single thought that had remained on Tom’s head since a red dress. But one night couldn’t change him. 

“Disaster that wedding was,” Tuwaine agreed. 

They all stared at Tom, they probably all noticed how lost he seemed. Tom sipped his own beer. 

“Ah, c’mon,” Harry laughed, trying to defuse the clear tension they were all noticing. “He just married her because he was anxious that Tom could get her back on a bed. ” 

“And because he realized he’d never get y/n on one,” Sam chuckled. “Wasn’t it awkward? Did he get nervous when he saw her?” 

“I--” Tom paused. “Uh, he was just stiff when we talked to them.” 

“Well, you took away the love of his life, how would you feel then?” Harry pushed. 

Harrison laughed. “I mean, he still married her,” he pointed out. 

“Ah, I wasn’t talking about Mon,” Harry gushed. 

Tom rolled his eyes. 

Tuwaine raised his beer at Tom, laughing as Tom just shrugged. 

“That’s why I don’t believe in marriage,” Tom answered as he looked down at his cards and then eyed his phone again. 

“Marriage isn’t that bad,” commented Sam. 

“Yeah, it doesn’t sound as terrifying when you’re in love, Audrey’s shown me that,” Tuwaine agreed. “I mean, you guys wouldn’t know, you’re all single.” 

“Relationships require commitment, and I can only commit to my work,” Tom shrugged. 

“Please,” Tuwaine laughed. “Okay, you don’t understand how nice it is to have someone who’s gonna be there for you. Whom you want to have for the rest of your life.” 

“It’s nice,” Sam commented, earning a nudge from his twin.

“Shut up, we all know you both have a girlfriend,” Harry complained. Sam smirked as he drank from his beer. 

“Someone who’s there for me? Who’ll be there for the rest of my life...” Tom grinned. “I actually do know it, y/n’s there for me, no relationship required,” Tom pointed out. “You know what else is nice?” Tom stepped in. “Having a different girl every night,” Tom winked at them. 

“Tom’s got the life,” Tuwaine said. “Best of both worlds,  like Hannah Montana.” 

“It’s true, I have a different girl and then I’ve got y/n to hang out afterward,” Tom barged, smirking. “It’s perfect.” 

“Is it?” Haz asked. “I mean, y/n sure loves you and everything, but you really think that’s what she wants?” 

“It’s true, that’s partly why she left,” Harry added. “I mean, you can’t expect her to be there every day, huh?” 

“What do you mean?” Tom asked. He knew what they meant but he didn’t want to accept it. He couldn’t lose her, right? Tom stared at Harrison. “Did you tell them?” 

“Tom,” Sam started. “She is a woman, sure, she loves hanging out with you, but she told you, she wants to share her future with someone.” 

“Ah, c’mon but I’m her best friend,” Tom intruded. “It’s not like she likes me as anything else. We’re friends, and we value our friendship more than some stupid moment.” 

His friends just gave each other glances. How oblivious was he?

“Tom,” Sam snickered. “Remember the wedding.” 

“What?” Tom frowned. “Whatever happened on that wedding,that apparently you all know now,” He frowned. “Was because we were confused, she was leaving, of course we had all type of feelings, we weren’t going to see each other for months.” 

“You’ve been through that situation before,” commented Sam. “Not six months, but still.” 

“But it’s always me leaving, you know? We are aware that I’m coming back,” Tom defended himself. 

“So she’s not coming back?” Asked Harry. 

Tom coughed. “Yeah, she is, she is.” 

“Then?” asked Tuwaine. “Why did that happen?” 

“I mean, the song did all the job, it’s like we were blinded by the moment,” Tom mumbled.

Harrison shrugged. “Blinded, or more like you were an idiot.” 

Tom glared. “Whatever. But we agreed that we couldn’t kiss--or whatever because it’d be stupid, friends don’t kiss and if we had kissed, we would’ve had to grow apart and neither of us want that.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “Are you sure that it’s not only you who doesn’t want to grow apart?” 

“She doesn’t want to grow apart,” Tom defended himself. “We love each other, we’re friends.” 

“Then why did she leave?” Harry asked. 

Tom sighed. “Because it’s her dream! She is out there living her best life, that night has nothing to do with it, it was already decided.” 

Haz smiled sadly. Tom knew Harrison knew more than he did. For some reason, that bothered him because maybe Tom was well aware of it. He knew he was, but sometimes it’s better to stay ignorant. 

“Then that night?” Tuwaine asked.

Tom scowled. “It was stupid.” 

He didn’t know why his friends were suddenly turning against him.

“I mean,” Tuwaine sighed. “When she...when she was telling you her fake vows…” 

“She didn’t mean them,” Tom pushed, angrily. 

“Maybe not the actual words,” Haz agreed. “But… C’mon man. You told me everything that happened, didn’t you see what she was doing?” 

Tom looked away. “She--Where are you going with this?” 

“You really don’t see it?” Asked Sam. 

Tom knew it. Tom was well aware of what they were talking about, but if he had ignored his own poisonous thoughts, he could ignore theirs. 

“The thing you guys don’t understand,” Tom raised his voice, he finished his beer. “Is that whatever happened that night, confusion and all means nothing, we won’t let a stupid moment ruin us. We’ve been, we are and we will still be friends, and that’s why we won’t let any bullshit ruin us, alright? She’ll be there for me, and I’ll be there for her, that’s it.” He slammed his hand on the table. He stood up, shaking. He didn’t know why exactly he was sweating, but he had to walk to the nearby window. He opened it to get some fresh air. 

“Calm down, man,” Harrison walked over. “We know you guys are friends.”

Tom gulped. “Yeah, friends.” 

“Yeah,” Tuwaine said. “You’re there for each other.” 

Tom pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, we’ll keep on being friends, like we were before.

“But you really think that’s her idea of happily ever after? Coming home to you after you’ve got laid?” 

“No, I mean, we just hang out, you know?” He pushed. “Like we’ve done it. 

“It’s been easy because she’s been single, though,” Harry added, as he opened up another beer and handed it to Tom.

“Well, she hasn’t been single that much,” Tom cleared his throat, sitting back down. “Can we go back to playing?” 

“Ah, please, I just remember like 2 guys she dated, and none of them were serious,” Harry continued. “So, you haven’t really worried about that.” 

“And I wouldn’t, she’s my best friend, I would only worry if I saw they were assholes,” Tom said. “I mean, c’mon, she’s… She can date whoever she wants to, right?” 

“Eh,” Tuwaine tilted his head with a laugh. “She technically can, but bro, in all honesty, you scare them away.” 

“No, I don’t,” Tom laughed. “How could I?” 

“Well,” Haz popped in. “I mean, you go all protective, and whenever they see the one and only Tom Holland spoiling her and being around all the time, and hugging her and being all touchy.” 

“I’m just letting them know how they should treat her, I mean she deserves the best,” Tom shrugged with a smirk. “Look, if they’re scared it’s their fault, we’re only friends.” 

All of them laughed.

“So, okay, okay, what would you do if y/n came back with a boyfriend?” Sam asked. 

“Nothing, be happy for her, of course,” Tom shrugged. 

Harrison laughed, clapping his hands. “Dude, you can’t stand seeing her with somebody.” 

“I can.” Tom scowled. 

“You’re too afraid of losing her,” Harrison said, with a smirk. “Probably not only as a friend.” 

“Makes you think, huh,” Tuwaine said, glancing at Tom. 

“It’s different,” Tom defended himself. “We are friends.” Tom’s phone started to vibrate. “Sh!” He yelled to his friends and brothers who actually weren’t making any noise. They all rolled their eyes as Tom finally had a small smile back on his face.  “I have to take this.” 

He answered the call from his best friend. 

“Hey!” He answered with the biggest smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah, I’m with the boys, poker night! How are you?” 

“Makes you think,” Tuwaine repeated, as they all watched him walk around talking to her. 

Seemed like everyone was aware of the situation. Everyone except for, of course, Tom. 

-

Tom felt numb. As if the two weeks after the wedding had been just the trial and now he was paying for it. He was living the prime version of not living with y/n. True, they had been apart before. But it felt...different. 

He was busy, too, of course. Working out, learning his lines. But everything, he would have to pause. Sleepless nights, and cold sweat.                                      

Texts and FaceTime were doing him no better, he felt like with each time, he was feeling worse, he needed more. He considered visiting her but his schedules didn’t work. Tom missed her so much,  so as the Sunday passed by he was getting tired of having barely to none communication. 

Their conversations usually went so fast, and it took her a lot to text him back. But she’d tell her about her day, her new friends, her time there. It was fun, but it was too little, and with each text, he would miss her even more. so he decided it was time to get back to his routines, get his mind off of her for a bit. 

He constantly forgot about the time difference. As that time when he had facetimed her, and she had answered even if she was too tired. 

“Y/N!” 

“Tommy…” she had answered with a yawn and with a smile, putting on her earphones. 

“How’s it going? Have you drank too much tequila?” Tom asked, gosh she looked beautiful. “Were you about to sleep?” 

“Hmm…?” She rubbed her face as she was looking at him.

“Sorry, you didn’t answer my text and I was worried but you’re fine right?”

“Tommy it’s 3 am and I’m honestly super tired…” she sounded tired, and she looked even more tired. “But I’m fine, thank you for worrying.” 

“Needed to hear your voice,” Tom said, not knowing where that had come from. He needed to see her, too. He needed to hold her. 

“I miss you, too, Tommy,” she whispered before yawning. 

“You won’t believe this!” Tom said, there was a silence, as she closed her eyes. “Y/N?” 

“I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I’m listening, with my eyes closed.” 

“No, no, you go back to sleep, I’ll call you later, it’s okay,” Tom understood. 

“No, tell me,” y/n insisted, opening her eyes. 

“Well, you see, I…” And Tom didn’t know why he had called her. There was barely any reason to call her but to call her per se. The thought alone of just seeing her was the only necessary thing. “Sorry, honestly, I just.. Needed to talk to you.” 

“Can’t leave without me, huh, Thomas?” She joked and a gentle smile appeared on her face, she looked so cuddly, and Tom couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to brush his fingers against her hair. “Now you know how I feel whenever you leave to film.” 

“Yeah, now I do, I’m leaving in a few days, too,” he gulped. “This sucks, how do you do it?” Tom grinned, as she closed her eyes.

“I guess I always remember you come back?” She said, and then yawned again. “It’s easier being the one who leaves, now I see, I’m busy.” 

“Gosh, next time I’ll be sure to be more considerate,” Tom started, because he truly was understanding the pain she was going through. “No, but honestly, how’s it going? Is it sunny? It’s not sunny here, it’s been raining a lot,” Tom rambled. “I don’t know, the days have been so long, and it’s been what? A month? Almost 2? Gosh, y/n I haven’t been eating proper desserts, like seriously, and okay, you won’t believe this that sushi restaurant we like? The one besides the coffee shop we hate? It closed! And they opened a Pub, we should go there when you come back, right?” 

And she was silent. 

“Y/N?” Tom kept speaking, she jumped and opened back her eyes. 

“Sorry, Tommy, care to repeat that?” She tried to keep her eyes open, and Tom just felt his heart warming up. 

“No, go back to sleep, we’ll talk later, okay?” Tom wanted to hold her, to hug her. He suddenly had the urge to place small kisses all around her and to just be there for her. “Love you,” those words came so naturally when it came to her. 

 “Love you, too, Tom,” she said before hanging up. 

He was left dumbfounded and he was being irrational. He did what he did best, he hooked up with someone, but even then, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. 

Their facetimes would consist of three-minute calls, or her declining them, or Tom being busy. Yeah, it wasn’t working. She didn’t have time at all for him. But she’d make time to talk to him. Yet, still, it wasn’t enough for Tom. 

Sometimes he’d even get no texts at all because she’d be in places where there was no signal. Those days would be the worst. Tom was losing his mind, no other girl seemed to understand him. And it couldn’t be, he was missing y/n way too much. He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t concentrate. And he was noticing how whenever he got a text, his heart would skip a beat whenever his phone vibrated and he saw her name. 

So, he changed his rules a bit to start. Because he needed to change everything, not even sleeping around helped. Nothing was helping. He went out on dates and took them to the places where he used to hang out with y/n. 

Like that time he went to buy some clothes with a girl he had been hanging out -sleeping- with for more than 4 nights. He asked her to go shopping with him. So as he was trying on clothes, he was expecting the girl, Andrea was her name, to be his hype girl but when he walked out of the dressing room she was far away, checking stuff out for herself. 

He felt weird, he was used to y/n to stay outside to hype him up or judge his clothes.

Huh, it had been weird. 

Or that time he went to an arcade to play with Sandra and expected her to be super competitive and play with him, but she was rather on her phone, not paying attention. 

Also, the time he tried to get another girl, Julia, to play board games with him and some other friends, and she was just not having it. She had been rude, and objecting about how stupid it was to play board games. 

The dates kept getting worse and worse, like that time he went out with Lorraine, they were gonna go for a dessert. Tom’s and Y/N’s favourite bakery. 

“The waiting line is so long,” Lorraine had complained. “And I can’t have that much sugar.” 

“C’mon,” Tom said. “You’ll love it.” 

“But we have to wait,” Lorraine had pouted. 

“Let’s play a game!” Tom suggested. “Okay, uh, you have to guess what I wanna have!” 

“What for?” She had asked. 

“C’mon!” Tom insisted. 

“Uh, I don’t know, a cookie?” Lorraine asked, crossing her arms. 

“No, but you have to be more specific!” 

“Uh, a big cookie?” 

Or that other time, with Emma, while going out for lunch, while ordering dessert, she had ordered the same dessert as him, making him lose his balance. She didn’t complete him. 

There was a time Tom considered going to search for her. He had received some great news, but truly, they didn’t matter if she wasn’t okay. 

“Hey! y/n I just called you because I-”

“Tom?” She answered. 

“Hey!” His smile brightened up as soon as he listened to her. 

“Hi,” her voice was the music he needed to listen to. 

“So how’s it going?” Tom asked her. 

“Tom? I ----uh, it’s kind of…. Not a good---The signal- it’s not---I can’t---- Not good time, went to the nearby town and-” she answered, her voice was being cut.  

“Y/N?” He asked “Are you okay? Want me to go there? I mean I can take the next flight.” 

“Tom-it’s raining- I can’t hear you-shit, the truck-shit.” 

“y/n?” 

“I’m okay, I’m okay, shit-oh damn, Tom? Hey- Imma have to call you back.” 

“Love you-” She had hung up before he had finished the sentence. 

Sooner or later, the texts were ceasing. And her absence was making Tom anxious. And somehow, he knew what was up but admitting it wouldn’t help, not now. Because admitting it would be finally giving up to the whim he had kept for long. With illusions and kisses on cheeks hiding the truth.

Cold showers weren’t helping, her pictures on his house were also the constant reminder that she wasn’t there, their picture as his phone background was like a stab in his heart. And he didn’t want to be dramatic, oh but he was being dramatic. His thoughts were impeding him from having a normal life, and not even sleeping around was helping him. Everything had summed up to her. All his aspects. He couldn’t work, he couldn’t keep on living normally. 

His playboy life wasn’t helping him at all, he couldn’t get his head off her. It was like she’d just sneak into his thoughts every night. He almost said her name once, how awkward that would’ve been.

But he kept sleeping around, keeping it fresh and making it way too difficult to even make someone think he missed her. So he’d wake up in different beds, with different women with the agony that none of those women was her. 

Gosh, he even had lunch with her mother just to have something remotely close to her. But he kept denying it to himself because y/n was his best friend. Nothing else, he couldn’t ruin his entire relationship with her for some dumb feelings. 

And there it was, the word that was so difficult to say. And people were noticing Tom’s weird behaviour, too. 

His friends and brothers were pushing him about it, ‘you’re weird since she left’, but Tom would deny it. He’d keep giving him lame excuses, not losing his playboy vibe. He’d give excuses that he hadn’t slept all night, he had partied all night, that he was too focused on a new script, that he was thinking about anything else. And they wouldn’t keep on bothering. 

He tried to box it away, it didn’t work, he tried to sleep it away, it didn’t work. Nothing, nothing worked. 

He had left to film another movie, so at least for a while, he’d be able to get distracted. And he was gone for September and October.  And that didn’t help. Because if anything, it’d be worse, he didn’t have any communication with her.

But at least, he could blame his work, and he had done the only thing he knew, he had committed to his work. 

There were fewer calls, and then it stopped. They didn’t call each other anymore. He was actually quite nervous each time he texted her, conscious on every emoji, every word and being afraid to double text. Afraid to start conversation or afraid to lose it. 

 And suddenly, he started seeing pictures on her Instagram, and she wasn’t alone. 

Of course, he didn’t expect her to be alone. But of course, seeing her with new friends, new people, made Tom think. He was jealous, he couldn’t deny that. And oh god, of course, he wanted her to be happy, but her communication had reduced. So it made Tom quite the anxious mess he was. Maybe she had left him for good. 

There was a guy in those pictures, he was good looking. He was tall, handsome, tanned, handsome, hazel-eyed, handsome, bearded, handsome. He was perfect. Big muscles, amazing smile. He was the definition of a perfect guy. And they appeared together on way too many pictures. 

So Tom had asked her about it. 

“Oh, that’s Miguel! He’s the guy who saved me the day my truck broke down, he’s super nice, you’d love him.” That was her text. 

No, he wouldn’t love him. Because he had replaced him. No more pictures of y/n and Tom filling her Instagram. It was him. Whoever that idiot was. 

And of course, the guy had his account private and was not going to follow him. Most of the pictures were innocent, selfies. 

And then the not so innocent ones started. Kisses on cheeks, hand-holding, hugging. 

There was one that simply made Tom lose it. His lips were on hers. 

His skin was all cold when he had seen it. He had to pause. Everything went blur. His worst fear.  He threw his phone to his bed and pinched the bridge of his nose. It couldn’t be. He took a cold shower, it had been his imagination. 

Except it wasn’t. And he refreshed it once, and twice, and three times more. It was there. It was still there. With her lips on his, and his on hers and with the quote: 

““Yo ya era así antes de que tú llegaras, caminaba por las mismas calles y comía las mismas cosas. Incluso antes de que llegaras yo ya vivía enamorado de ti y a veces, no pocas, te extrañaba como si supiera que me hacías falta”- Julio Cortázar.”

He quickly had to copy and translate it: 

“I was like that even before you arrived, I walked the same streets and ate the same things. Even before you arrived I already lived in love with you and sometimes, not a few, I missed you as if I knew I needed you.”

Tom cursed under his breath. Why was this happening? He was in such a state of shock. It couldn’t be. 

He didn’t know what the hell he could do. So he read the comments on their pictures.  Some of them, he agreed with. 

“Where’s Tom? 👀👀👀👀” 

“I need to see you with Tom again 😫😫” 

“💔💔💔”

“Who’s that? I want my tom/yn content again 😭” 

“Did tom and her break up? I mean I think they weren’t dating, but???👀”

“I guess this confirms it tom+y/n=💀”  

“Nooo, you should be with Tom 💔”

Some of them, he despised them. 

“Who’s that hottie? You guys look so cuuuute! 💕💓” 

“Y/N living her best life💕” 

“My new ship 💗” 

Scrolling through the comments gave him a headache. He needed to go for a walk. He ended up walking in the park, and then sitting down, then walking, until he ended up watching old couples walk in there. 

He had received texts from all his friends, he even had missed calls from them. Tom guessed they were trying to know how he was doing. Because they weren’t oblivious to the situation. And Tom wasn’t either. 

He kept watching the couples, trying to understand why he had been hiding it. He was still trying to. A couple, in particular, caught his eye, an old couple laughing while eating ice cream. They were about 80 years old, with matching sweaters, they were adorable. Both were poking ice cream on each other’s faces and then licking from the other’s ice cream. They were having fun, and they looked so in love. 

Tom smiled, as the old man was tickling his wife, she laughed so much that accidentally dropped the cone. The old man tried to bend and clean it down, but Tom approached them and cleaned it himself. 

“Oh, thank you,” the woman said, as she offered a smile to Tom. “Thank you, sorry for making a mess.” 

“No problem, you guys are adorable,” Tom winked at them, and the old man nodded. “So in love, huh?” 

“After all these years, very much so,” the man agreed. “She is my best friend.” 

Tom had felt a stab again. It had made him think, they were in love and they were doing just fine. Maybe being in love wasn’t something he should be afraid of. 

The only text he sent to his friends was: poker night tonight. They were all on time. They had been careful since they had arrived. For the first time, they were playing quietly. 

Tom hadn’t addressed the elephant in the room. He was not focused on the game, one where he had already lost once, he kept thinking about it. Sam, Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine were staring at him, and he hadn’t even noticed. 

He was just looking down at his cards, biting his lip. He was drumming his foot, nervously. A ‘ding’ was heard and Tom was quick to glance at his phone, nothing important. It wasn’t her. 

“Tom,” Harrison finally broke the silence. 

Tom looked up with concern. “Yeah?” 

“Tom, it’s your turn, idiot,” Harry said. “Dude, we’ve been waiting for about 5 minutes.” 

“What-what?” Tom shook his head to get out of his trance. “Oh, right, eh, I double it,” Tom answered. 

“Thomas, we’re playing UNO,” Sam laughed. “What’s up?” 

“We… are what?” Tom was confused as he double-checked his cards, no, they weren’t UNO cards. 

“Oh god, you fell for that one?” Sam frowned and snorted. “What’s up?” 

“Yeah, what’s the matter?” Tuwaine pushed the question. 

“I don’t know,” Tom downed his beer. “I think. I don’t know.” 

They all gave each other glances. 

“Let’s...play something else,” Tom stood up. 

“Like...what?” Harry frowned. 

Tom walked around the table. They started to give him some options to play but he wasn’t listening. 

“Did you see her picture?” Tom finally wailed. 

Harry gave Sam a smug smirk. “Told you,” he mouthed. 

Tuwaine bit his lip. “Yeah, handsome lad.” 

“How long have they been dating?” Harry asked. “I mean, I’ve seen pictures of him since August, but I guess she just confirmed it.” 

“Has anyone followed him?” Sam asked. 

Tom clenched his jaw as he ran a hand through his hair. He took a deep breath. “Do you think it’s serious?” 

“No, it can’t be, she’s coming back, they’ll probably break up before she leaves” Haz assured him. “Have you asked her about it?” 

“No,” Tom answered. “I don’t...I…” 

“I facetimed her,” Haz continued. Tom felt his heart sink. He hadn’t factimed with her for a long time. “She told me about him.” 

“Really?” Tom gulped. “What did she say?” 

Haz shrugged. “Just that he’s nice, but, she didn’t say anything I haven’t heard about other guys.” 

“He--He--He can’t, he is--ugh,” Tom wanted to scream. “I haven’t talked to her.” 

“But why would she post a picture kissing him just as she’s about to leave?” Questioned Sam. 

“Say goodbye?” Tuwaine suggested. 

“Did you guys translate what it said?” Tom frowned. “It’s… ugh and then he just commented that he loved her and…” Tom started rumbling under his breath. “ I missed you as if I knew I needed you,” he said under a high mocking pitch. 

“Why does it bother you?” Haz teased.

 Tom ran a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, I thought you didn’t care if she dates,” Harry insisted. 

Tuwaine raised his eyebrow. “Yeah, man, weren’t you cool with it?” 

He stayed quiet and didn’t look at them. He turned around to try to come up with the right way to phrase it. 

“I think… I think I-- have feelings for y/n,” Tom finally stated. 

They all stared at each other and contained their laughter. Tom frowned. That was definitely not the reaction he expected. 

“Fina-fucking-lly!” Harry said. “Took you so long to realize.” The four of them laughed. 

“You don’t say,” Tuwaine bothered him with a smug smirk placed upon his face. 

“That’s brand new information!” Sam teased.  

Tom felt attacked as he walked away, rubbing his face to try and make himself get back on his senses. “Something is off without her and…”

They all stood up, still laughing. Harrison’s smirk was the widest as he watched him. 

“Took you quite a while to notice, huh?” Harrison asked Tom, playfully slapping him. 

Tom frowned. “I mean, I’ve been thinking, and I think there’s more to life than just sleeping around,” Tom continued. They all widened their eyes. 

“Woah, y/n’s got him bad, Tom, need another beer? I’ll bring another beer,” Harry left to the kitchen to bring him another beer, one which Tom accepted quickly. 

“I...think I’m not following,” Tuwaine said. “You’re serious? Is Tom Holland willing to give up his playboy life?” 

“I… can’t get her out of my mind,” Tom continued. “I mean, I’ve been hanging out with other women, and no, I just… keep thinking about her, and how I should’ve kissed her and fuck-it’s I can’t, she’s… Just… yeah.” 

“You’re so good with words,” Harrison commented, rolling his eyes.

Tom sipped of the beer as he leaned against the wall, cold sweat running down his face. His heart beating fast, almost popping out his chest. “I don’t know what to do,” Tom’s voice was breaking. “I don’t know how to feel, what to do.” 

“Tell her,” Sam suggested. 

Harry nodded. “Tell her,” Harry insisted. 

“Guys, I’m serious.” 

“We fuckin’ are, too!” Haz insisted. 

“What about the stupid tan, big and handsome boyfriend?” Tom said with disgust. 

“Man, really, it probably is nothing serious!” Haz assured him

Tuwaine nodded, nudging him. “Yeah, don’t sweat it, really.” 

Harry rolled his eyes. “And he’s not Spider-Man.” 

Tom laughed. “Yeah, right.” 

“Man, he’s not you, he doesn’t know her the way you do,” Sam told him. “Please! You guys are perfect for each other.” 

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way? I can’t lose her,” Tom explained. “I guess I know that having feelings for her and not being reciprocated… would end us.” 

“Look,” Haz started. “She basically told you she wanted something more, but she didn’t want to push it because she knew you’d leave her.” 

“I… I know, and I don’t want it right away, I wanna do it right, whole dating thing, you know?” Tom started. “I wanna be with her.” 

They all smiled. 

“Yes, chill,” Haz stood up in front of him, taking him by the shoulders. “Man, relax, she’ll be back in weeks.” 

“Right, so I’ll tell her,” Tom nodded. “What do I tell her?” 

.Harry slapped his brother. “Just how you feel dickhead.” 

Tom frowned. “I don’t… I”

Tuwaine chuckled. “Use some of her words, the whole ‘I’ve always thought that I was wrong’, that kinda shit, she’ll love it, ‘specially because you’d show her you care.” 

Tom nodded. “Right,” he cleared his throat. “I tell her, hey, y/n I’m in love with you, and I wanna be with you, not marriage, of course,” Tom cleared his throat. “Let’s date, let’s… be together, fuck-I’m in love with y/n.” 

They all went quiet, and their laughter had ceased. Suddenly, they had turned serious. 

“You’re in love?” Asked Sam. Tom turned red. 

“Since the day I met her.” 

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