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jodilin65 · 31 years

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WEDNESDAY, JUNE 30, 1993 I am at my new job now where there’s way more money, yet plenty of time to write. I now work at Favors a half-hour away from where I live, but it’s a million times better than a bar. I have so much updating to do and you’d never believe all that’s happened. It’s amazing. Counting me, 8 girls work here. My name here is Shauna. There is also Sarah, Alyssa, Amber, Monique (I haven’t met Kayla yet), and another girl who was hired. Lea and her husband Ron are the owners. Lea dances here and there and Ron’s the photographer.

FRIDAY, JUNE 25, 1993 I have quite a bit to discuss and some of it isn’t cool.

The Candy Store hired me on the 12th. Up front, they promised me I could work nights. Friday night I made $141! Then these idiots had the nerve to tell me I couldn’t come back but was welcomed to their club in Bullhead City. That’s 4 hours away! They offered to drive me and pay for my food and hotel, but I’d be gone for weeks at a time. Away from all my stuff. No thanks. This is legit, though, as other dancers said they’ve done it before, too. Bullhead City is deader than dead. Finally, they told me I could stay with them if I’d work days. Fuck that!

Last night I called Centerfolds, only to not be told what I should’ve been told over the phone. Instead, Andy came all the way over here, I got all decked out only to go there and be told they had too many night shift girls. I told them over the phone I’d only work nights. There were a lot of girls in there, too. Of all different types. Some were bigger, some were smaller. They also own Band-Aids and they told me I’d be hired there, but it’s too far away.

Then, Andy checked the New Times. Everything was so far away, but I called a place called Favors that does private room dancing. The girl there said they usually make $500 - $900 a week, but it’s 25 minutes away. I called the cab company and asked how much the fare would be and I was told $15. You have to work 5 days a week, so both ways would be $150 a week in cab fare! This is crazy.

I also called an ad for a model, but the guy said it’d be only once a week for two hours and only $10 an hour.

My last choice and only choice is to return to the Mile High. However, with the way everyone’s been going back on their word with me, I’m afraid they’ll do that too, even though I’ve been told I could return if I wanted or needed to. While I was talking to Tammy, I was talking to Mark and he said to call him tomorrow. This tells me something scary. Where the fuck do I go if he contradicts me too? I’ll just have to call tomorrow and hope for the best. I’ll pray to God, but don’t know if I believe in that or if it’ll work.

I just called the Mile High and now fucking Mark’s going back on his word, too! That motherfucker!

I just paged Steve and he’s checking into the name of a possible nearby escort service, but he doesn’t know if it’s still open. He also may know in a week if he’s gonna be running some other escort service. If I were to try Favors, he said he’ll cut 1/3 of the fare and have his day driver take me in and he’d take me home. The last possibility is Highlighters. I called them and they’re accepting applications. So, it’ll be either Favors, an escort service Steve will run, Highlighters, or this other one that’s closer if it’s open.

I’m really fucking pissed at the Candy Store and the Mile High. Every time I get something set up that’s good for me as far as money and schedules, someone just has to come and fuck it all up. I would’ve done really well working nights at the candy store, but it’s their loss, too. They’re losing someone good.

There are other possibilities, but they’re way in the future if they ever happen. It has to do with Tom and his computers and maybe my music and or edits. He’s been working these 12-hour killer shifts and he wants to change jobs. Computers are his thing. He mentioned something about how he designs the instructions for Nintendo games and would need to use my ear for certain pitches. We’ll see, but in the meantime, he has a computer hooked up to a keyboard, so what music you play is printed out so you don’t have to write it. He’s also checking into my getting my songs sold once and for all. If he can figure out how to get that started, I’ll take it from there.

Andy asked why in the world I want to sell my songs and get so little while someone else could make millions. Well, I’m never gonna be rich and famous and singing my own songs, so why not let someone else do it? Little money’s better than no money.

I just went to call Andy, but he’s either on the phone or has it off the hook as it only rang once.

Tom took me to see my new doctor last Monday. She was nice, but some time before I go back I must have blood work done. Fun, huh?

I also have to make an appointment at Montgomery/Ward to have my picture taken, but these things aren’t my top priority now.

I haven’t edited Stacey’s message yet to put on the machine over there, but on the 16th, Judy left a message. She only said that if this were still my number, please call her back. She never left a reason. It’s probably over the rent they say I owe that I don’t owe. It could also be to question me about Bob’s letter, but how could they tie that to me? All they can do is suspect me.

Speaking of the VV, well, there were two guys shot over there a few days ago. They arrested a guy I don’t know. In fact, Andy called up Judy to ask about it. She said the people who were shot don’t even live there, and no residents were involved.

I edited Tom the other day and he sure got a kick out of it. He and I get along so great (for now). He does seem understanding of how hard it is for me to trust people and why, but right now, at this moment, we have a great friendship. He’s very sensitive and even though we’re complete opposites, we don’t try to change one another. Opposites almost never get along. So far he’s kept his word on things and he says he’s treating me to a trip to Vegas in about 4 weeks, but I still have to see it to believe it as much as I think he’s telling the truth. He said, “Ok, I understand. I like to prove myself anyway.”

DES sent a letter for an appointment for food stamps. Then, they turned around and sent a change report form and I said could do it by mail. I’ll try, but it’ll be hit or miss.

I still have to see Andy and Tom’s new place. Andy says he likes it where he is, but the guy above him stomps 24 hours a day. Well, I can’t say I pity him as whoever lives below him is hearing the same thing from him.

Andy’s gonna rent a camcorder one of these days soon, so we can film our apartments and surroundings for our families. We’ll split the cost.

A few days ago Andy was here, and guess who he ran into as he was driving out? Driving in front of him was none other than Conman himself. They ended up talking for an hour and a half. Andy began to follow him and so they pulled over to talk right by my old apartment.

He swears up and down that he’s gonna give Andy his stuff back this Saturday, but we know he’s full of shit. He’s a head player. He likes to promise shit he’s never gonna do and he obviously loves to go to court. The head player swears he never had any intentions of conning me, but I know that’s BS too. He said he has canceled plane tickets as proof. He bitched that I was supposed to have trusted him to take me on the 7th, and cuz I called Steve twice, he canceled it. Yeah, right. Great excuse. He mentioned me calling his father, but I didn’t do that till after the 7th. He said I called Pepsi but that’s BS cuz I don’t even know who to call. I know they’re not listed as Pepsi. Probably some kind of machine repair service, but there are so many. Andy said that we both know he never intended to take me to L.A. And that he doesn’t know Bill. Naturally, he denied it as well as the letter I got in the mail two days ago.

It was addressed to “Slut” O and it said: Dear Jodi: You sick, ugly, dancing whore. We all know where you live. Your Caller ID won’t save you. The police will be by to escort you back to Mass. where you belong, love???

Very few people know I have Caller ID and what happened in MA. Of everyone I know, this is Scott’s style and perfect timing. It could’ve been Steve too, as they’re tight together. They’re an “item.” It could’ve been someone at the VV, but I highly doubt it and I’ll get into why I doubt it in a moment. The thing of it is, though, they addressed it to the other apartment. I’ll bet Scott couldn’t remember the new apartment number off the top of his head, so he wrote the old one knowing it’d be forwarded here. He was probably too terrified to chance running into me if he came by here. I doubt Scott wrote it as it’s too neat for a male to have written. I’ll bet he had Crystal write it.

I doubt Stacey had anything to do with it, but there’s a slim possibility. She could’ve gotten my forwarding address, suspected me on Bob’s letter and done it. She never liked me, especially in the beginning, and she’s very serious, old-fashioned and very narrow-minded. She would be the type to hate dancers, she knows I have Caller ID and she knows about MA.

The only other possibilities are Donna and Andi over there, but they don’t have the info about MA or caller ID.

It’s definitely Scott and Steve, but the difference between Stacey and Keri over here is the difference between black and white. Scott and Steve are great for each other and they can have a happy life together, but it’s only a matter of time before they both fuck each other over.

Scott said he could’ve sent the tape to MA and gotten me in big trouble.

Bull. He wouldn’t even know who to contact and where. I also spoke to a cop for info as far as the tapes go and he says they’re not admissible in court. Who the fuck knows, but I am far from worried. It’d kill his ego to go to the cops anyway. Scott’s got 3 major problems. 1. He lies. 2. He never does what he says he’s gonna do. 3. He contradicts himself and or denies things that he or others said or did.

Andy said several times he wanted to come fuck me up, but Crystal stopped him. Yeah, right. A girl who hates me and is totally on his side is gonna stop him? The truth is, he’s fucking terrified of me and we all know it.

He said, why should he help me? What’s he get in return? Andy told him the truth and that’s that he would’ve had a grateful friend and I would’ve helped him in any way possible.

I can sense, and have been told by Scott himself, how fucked up Crystal is. Well, they can both fuck each other over. They deserve each other.

Now here’s the best of the Scott news as far as the tape’s concerned. He is fucking terrified, according to Andy! Great. I don’t feel one bit guilty after all he’s done to me. Andy could see how the tape had him all stressed out and scared shitless. Scott also says he’s terrified I’m gonna fuck up his cars. He also says he’s still having problems with Eric and the office here as far as his apartment goes. Good. He deserves it. He can feel many of the things he’s made me feel. He’s always gonna have enemies till he learns how to treat people.

In other news, I just called the Candy Store and asked for Russ. He’s the owner and Omar’s cousin. I told him again I can’t work days, but does he have anything open for nights yet? He told me to call him Monday but I can’t buy anything anyone says till I see it work out. I really do want to return if nothing else comes up. The money’s great there and the girls were nice.

There’s this gorgeous girl there who says she’s bi. I know she’ll never call me, but I gave her my number anyway. There are a few girls working there that I know. Sativa (who goes by Chanelle), Rena, and none other than the gorgeous Marcella herself.

At the pool today I met this very pretty and nice girl named Susan who’s visiting from Flagstaff. She’s had gay friends but I think she’s straight.

Two days ago I met a really nice couple and their 10-year-old son at the pool.

As far as Alicia, well, I met her a couple of weeks ago and there’s no way I want to be her friend. She’s more of a wacko than Ellie was. She didn’t do anything to me, but I have a feeling she may if I don’t avoid her. I’m surprised that she hasn’t called. Anyway, we met at the pool where she lives and she reminds me so much of K.D. Lang. K.D. Lang’s ugly, butchy and she’s very plain. Very tall and skinny and she’s bi. She’s addicted to a million different medications due to anxiety, stress, depression, anger, you name it. She talks frantically non-stop and I can’t get a word in edgewise. She flips from one very emotional subject to another, and no, I was never that bad myself.

WEDNESDAY, JUNE 16, 1993 I just got through talking to Andy who was very depressed. He hates his job and most of his coworkers.

Before talking to Andy, I spoke with Tom. He says he’s trying to think of something marketable for my edits with a possibility of money being made, too. Sometime I gotta go check his new house out and all his different computers.

Next Monday at 1:45 I have to see Dr. Wilcox. Tom’s taking me.

I’m gonna edit Tom soon as well as Stacey. In 10 minutes the office closes at the VV. I’ll record her outgoing message, edit it, then put it on the office machine.

Andy called her Monday cuz they ripped off part of his deposit money, which figures. I listened silently as typical Stacey had her mind made up and wouldn’t budge. Then I called and said she was a bitch. She giggled and said, “Jodi, I’ve already turned your name over to collections.”

I said fine and laughed, then she hung up. No mention of Bob’s letter I sent her. Sarah’s to be getting Bob’s next letter. Sarah’s given Andy and I her VM code, so we call here and there and pick up her messages.

US West really pissed me off last week. I mean, this fucking phone company is so fucked up. I never ordered the removal of my Caller ID blocks (it blocks my name and number from others with caller ID). They did anyway, cuz I got a call from a Steven P. I called the number back and there were 3 or 4 kids. A girl named Robin was trying to call her friend Meagan and her number is one digit off mine. So I crossed them a few times, then I heard the boy say (the girl’s brother), “I have her name and number.” So naturally, I’m thinking, the hell you do. But then he said my name and I was like, fuck you, US West! I bitched the damn company out and now I’m re-blocked.

Still no word or call from asshole Scott, but I left the tape by his door. Hope he enjoys it.

I’m working the next 3 nights and I can’t wait to see how the money is. A girl named Alicia I met who lives here says she’ll drive me in. I’ll write more about her later.

I need to give Tom $20 and the office $97.35.

TUESDAY, JUNE 15, 1993 Lots to update… Last Sunday I worked at the Candy Store from noon-5 PM and made $39, even though it was dead due to the basketball finals. There were things I liked and disliked. The Mile High is definitely the nicest-looking club. It’s nice and roomy and so was the dressing room and bathroom. The dressing room at the Candy Store’s too damn small. Even smaller than Sha Na Na’s.

Last Saturday I called Mark at the Mile High and told him what happened with Scott and L.A. He was very understanding about it. He told me John and some of his friends were in looking for me. Wait till I tell John, who’s gonna want to kill Scott as much as I do. His pager’s been disconnected so I can’t contact him. I told Steve and Mark and Pete to tell him to call me if they see him.

I told Meagan to give Tiffany my number. She’s having a costume altered for me.

Steve’s gonna pick me up from work, and Alicia, a neighbor, may bring me in. I’ll get to her later, but Pete was encouraging me to come back and was bashing the Candy Store. He said anytime I wanted to return, I could. That’s cool to know.

I want to give the Candy Store a chance and see how money is there. I really do think it’ll be better. I’ll be working every other Sunday. Then from 6 PM - 1 AM and every Thursday, Friday and Saturday from 6 PM - 1 AM.

The Candy Store does look nice, though. It’s all mirrors and lights and so far the girls seem ok. There are two stages. You do two sets per stage and that sucks, but oh well. If I make more money there, it’ll be worth it.

Tom took me to both places, but he said he’d stay in the car since he’s straight and attracted to me.

He and I tried to fix my typewriter and we couldn’t. It’s getting worse too, and I believe very soon I’ll need to go to another pawnshop.

There are several things I need and want.

Tammy told the 3 different credit card companies for who she owes thousands that she moved here. She gave them my name, number and address, and I keep telling them she’s sending money soon when they call. She got a job as a security guard and says she’ll send them money soon.

Andy moved and he loves his apartment but says his neighbors can be noisy. I had a bad feeling about that.

He came over yesterday and brought over the straightening iron from Velma. I like it and it’s even easier to use than the crimping iron. It’s quicker, I mean.

I gave him a new spare key.

Sometime soon I have to make another appointment with Montgomery/Ward. Andy says it’ll be no problem taking me there cuz he lives right near there.

I also have a new female doctor (Dr. Wilcox) and I have to see her. I must get my teeth cleaned, too.

I must start saving money for various things. A bedroom set and a fan on a stand. Maybe an entertainment center someday. New swimsuits, new sneakers, new blank videos, CDs and I’m sure there’s some other stuff I’m forgetting.

I spoke with both my parents a while ago and it was ok, but I know soon enough they’ll be back to their same old shit. My mother did shock me, though, by admitting she did fuck up as a mother.

I never sent Ma a birthday card, but I sent Dad a Father’s Day card.

A few weeks ago I was listening to this radio station with two male DJs and one female named Jamie. The guys were picking on her saying she had PMS, so they set up a hotline. Naturally, the guy callers took the guy’s side and the women sided with Jamie. Jamie asked one female caller if she had a husband or a boyfriend and she said, “No, but I have a wife and a girlfriend.”

I turned around and called and asked Jamie if she had a husband or boyfriend. She said yes. I said she oughta consider dating a woman cuz they’re more sensitive.

Can you believe 20 minutes later they put that on the air, too?

SUNDAY, JUNE 13, 1993 Tom will be here any minute. I don’t have time to write about everything right now. But I can say this - I was hired at the Candy Store yesterday with no audition! Neat, huh? I’m on my way over there till 6:00, then I’ll be working Thursday - Saturday.

SATURDAY, JUNE 12, 1993 Continuing with Scott - well - he’s gonna get a tape, but not till Andy gets his stuff back (his VCR & tape recorder). Keri left a note on his door to bring his stuff to the office and he hasn’t. Andy’s gonna take legal action since Scott’s continuing to play his favorite game of never doing anything he says he’s gonna do.

My friendship is his loss. As I said, he knew exactly what he was doing. With all the things he told me about his life and himself, who knows what was really true and what was bullshit. He and Steve (the guard who turned out to be a complaining, whining asshole) would make great lovers if they were gay. They’re both so unstable and insecure and Steve goes from sweet and kind one minute to flipping out the next. They’re great for each other. They can’t impress people with the truth, they’ve got to lie to feel as if they’ve impressed you.

I know this wasn’t an issue of sex for Scott as he’s happy with Chris, so he says. Andy called her to tell her to tell him to leave his stuff in the office and she blew a fuse. She denied any relationship with Scott, but I think she was just covering him.

The tape speaks my mind as well as lets him know that I’m a firm believer in what goes around comes around. That I’d love for him to come face me. If he’s so tough and not a wimp, why won’t he face me? The guy’s never home and the few times I knocked when there were lights on and I knew he was home, he was too chicken to open the door.

I left a message with his father which was, “All in due time.”

I just left Andy a message that I know my VCR’s a piece of shit, but he could have it if he wants it.

Now, there are certain things I don’t think are Scott’s style, but I also didn’t think it was his style to be a con artist, so I changed my locks. Maintenance did it for $25. I’m 99% sure he’d never enter while I was here and 98% sure he wouldn’t while I was gone, but why take any chances? He could come in to take back the TV, but for what he’s put me through, he owes me this much. Along with the couch. Believe me, though, I wish he would come in with me here. He’s too chicken to even call, let alone face me in person.

I also was sure to put lots of lies on the tape; exactly what I got from him.

So far Tom’s been a great friend. It looks as if he’s gonna stay that way, but who knows? Who knows what the future holds? This is what Tammy said too, who is just as pissed at Scott as I am. No, I never thought I’d live here and find a job I liked, but my dream is 100% hopeless. Why waste my money on a demo like Andy says? The same con games will happen.

Later…

I haven’t been to work in a week cuz Scott fucked my schedule up with his games. Also, I’ve been wanting to get out of the Mile High cuz it’s so dead. Tom’s gonna take me to audition at the Candy Store. At 3:00, when the Mile High opens, I’ve got to go clean out my locker. My latex, heels and several costumes are there. The guy at the Candy Store said I could come in any time and easily cut $100 a night. Let’s hope so. Many have said it’s good money there and it’s the same distance away. They have the same long killer shifts Sha Na Na’s did from 11 AM-6 PM & 6 PM-1 AM. You don’t have to work a minimum of 4 days or nights, though, which is cool. I’d like to hopefully get Thursday, Friday and Saturday from 6 PM-1AM. I do have a good vibe about money there.

The name Mystery has got to go. I wanted a unique name, but it’s too far out. I’m sick of, “What’s your name?” “History?” “Misery?” “Are you a mystery?”

I think I may go by Shaunee.

I only owe $97.35 for this month on rent. All my other bills are paid.

Jamie (Gail) called while I was at the pool. She wanted to know where I’ve been.

I’ll write more later.

THURSDAY, JUNE 10, 1993 As of yesterday, I’ve been here for a year. I feel as if I’ve accomplished so much as well as nothing at the same time.

Well, L.A. was all one big fucking con. Just one big fucking joke. I’m right back where I’ve always been with my singing - nowhere. I’m both shocked and not shocked. I’m not shocked cuz I really believe God doesn’t want me to have my dream or anything else that really matters to me. I’m shocked cuz Scott’s the last person I ever thought would be a con artist.

Well, I hope Scott’s real fucking happy. I rearranged my whole fucking schedule and got all psyched up over nothing. He knew exactly what he was doing and intended this from day one. The anger, frustration, anxiety and depression over this are gonna last quite a while. I’m not gonna ever let myself lose this bitterness for the sake of protecting myself. I hope he knows he’s made just as much an ass of himself as he has of me. You don’t know how it’s been one hell of an ordeal to restrain myself from going over there and bashing his head. He obviously knows this as he’s not called or come over. He’s chicken shit and no doubt very embarrassed.

He’ll get his, though, and I’ll write more about it later.

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joecial-distancing · 2 years

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Captain’s (album) logs

Marty Robbins Gunfighter Ballads And Trail Songs (1959): Alright, this is country-adjacent music I like: Really pleasant voice singing about old west & cowboy things

Adam & The Ants Kings Of The Wild Frontier (1980): I’m an easy mark for new wave, even if on paper this particular one's mediocre. There’s interesting drumming on some of the songs, and a couple tracks on here feel like a direct antecedent to something like Vampire Weekend

Jimi Hendrix Axis: Bold As Love (1967): It’s Jimi Hendrix, you know his stuff! I liked this less than “Are You Experienced”, but still a great time

John Mayall & The Bluesbreakers (ft. Eric Clapton) Bluesbreakers (1966): Blues w/ Jazz organ doesn’t impress me the same way it might’ve before I started this albums project, found this kind of grating after a full album of it

Leonard Cohen Songs of Love and Hate (1971): I think I really like how distinctive Cohen’s voice is, but that alone didn’t really sell me on this. Honestly has me reconsidering the reasons I like Tom Waits so much, like it’s clearly not just about being won over by interesting vocals, the music backing Cohen’s voice was just kind of boring to me

ABBA Arrival (1976): I’ve grown to appreciate ABBA over the years, even if they’re often not my taste. Arrival has some classics on it, but overall I kinda found it less interesting than The Visitors had been

Emmylou Harris Pieces Of The Sky (1975): Definitely not my preferred kind of country/folk music

Janis Joplin Pearl (1971): Not really my thing

Joy Division Unknown Pleasures (1979): I’ve liked all the Joy Division that’s come across my radar for this project, but haven’t been able to access, like, true enthusiasm for them yet. They are a definite, definite influence point for a lot of great acts that came after!

Metallica S&M (1999): On paper, live metallica + full backing orchestra is a hilarious idea, but also symphonic metal is absolutely a guilty pleasure of mine, so I was excited to hit play on this. Even though the runtime on this one’s over 2 hours, it’s pretty fun overall. I stand by my original complaint with metallica, though--every individual song slightly overstays its welcome

Roxy Music Roxy Music (1972): This one kicks ass! Some research reveals Brian Eno was involved in making this, which makes a ton of sense in hindsight.

Band/album name & especially album cover had me nervous this was going to bore me, but instead it kind of re-sold me on the 1k1 albums project after what had kind of felt like some doldrums

GZA Liquid Swords (1995): This was a lot of fun, though after two albums from their members on here, I’m suspecting the generator’s not a good way to get oriented with Wu-Tang stuff.

Aerosmith Pump (1989): Hard Rock Cafe

New York Dolls New York Dolls (1973): Really interesting kinda pre-punk thing, lots of the reception to this seems to indicate it was very influential to genres I’m not otherwise super checked into

Solange A Seat at the Table (2016): Bit too slow for my taste, most of the songs felt dull to me

Missy Elliott Under Construction (2002): Never spent much time with Missy Elliott before, turns out her stuff’s incredibly fun!

Baaba Maal, Mansour Seck Djam Leelii (1989): The kind of music I could pretty easily spend all day with, but on the scale of things, I kind of wish it had more texture to it

Kool Keith Dr. Octagon Dr. Octagonecologyst (1996): The arrangements were often interesting. Extremely stupid concept.

B.B. King Live At The Regal (1965): Extremely pleasant blues

Harry Nilsson Nilsson Schmilsson (1971): I spent about half this album wondering why I recognized his name until I got to the lime & coconunt song (simply called “Coconut”, apparently!), which was like somebody slapped me. What’s crazy is the rest of the thing sounds nothing like that! Most of the rest of the album sounds like the halfway point between Beatles and Elton John, it’s great!

Seriously, I wish I could explain better what it is about this that’s like, similar to Beatles and other late-60s brit acts like Kinks, Monkees etc, but different in a way that I liked way more. Like it incorporates blues a lot more, maybe?

#1001 albums

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megslovesbooks · 2 years

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Dreamin’ of the West Coast (aka the Piano Player Eddie AU!)

1/1

10k

rating: T

art by the wonderful @benjaminrussell

a MiniBang for @buddiebigbang 2022

pairings/sidepairings: Eddie Diaz/Evan Buckley (pre relationship, don’t worry, this is endgame), Eddie Diaz/Shannon Diaz, Hen Wilson/Karen Wilson, Chimney Han/Maddie Buckley

triggers/warnings: some alcohol consumption, discussion of a failing marriage, one of the songs linked ‘Wild Turkey’ deals with the death of a loved one via suicide.

summary: When Eddie moved his struggling family to LA he wasn’t looking for a perfect Hollywood ending, he’d just wanted a fresh start. Two years later things are anything but easy, teaching high school music while trying to repair his failing marriage is taking its toll. When the chance to play with one of LA’s hottest up and coming bands lands on his door step it feels too good to be true. And if Eddie’s learned anything it’s that things that seem too good to be true are usually worse.

“Eddie! Eddie, hey wait up!”

It takes a minute for the sound of his name to register past the usual din of post school ruckus. The fact that it's Friday makes the halls of Central High even more chaotic than usual and by the time Lena Bosko, Marching Band instructor by day, rock band drummer by night, catches up with him the air is so full of the sound of high school kids making their weekend escape Eddie can barely hear her. Rolling her eyes, Lena snags him by the arm and drags him into the nearest open classroom.

“Lena what—“ he begins then tacks on “Hey Tom.” as the geometry teacher looks up in surprise from behind his desk at the intrusion. Lena ignores both Eddie’s question and the fact that there’s someone else in the room.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asks, and doesn’t wait for an answer. “It's a trick question. I’m going to tell you. You know my old friend Coop?” Eddie does, it's hard to forget the man who was one of LA’s most renown piano players until he lost an arm in that 7.2 earthquake a few years back. Eddie had just moved to LA with his wife and son; they hadn’t even found permanent housing yet. While Eddie had been trying to navigate getting his family somewhere with power and running water, Coop had been in surgery, losing his left arm at the elbow. He’d been caught under a flipped car and had amputated his own arm to save his life when it became clear help wasn’t going to arrive on time. He still plays with Lena’s band sometimes and he’s one of the most impressive people Eddie’s ever met. Lena doesn’t wait for an answer this time either.

“Well, he’s working as a sound tech down at the Orpheum this month, he and the manager go way back, and he called me last night asking if I knew any good piano players who were available for a super high profile gig tomorrow night. Obviously I thought of you.” She’s talking so fast now Eddie has to throw up his hands to slow her down.

“Lena, hold up, what are you talking about?”

“A job dummy.” Lena says, sighing as if she hasn’t been incomprehensible for the last fifteen minutes. “A BIG job. Coop only got asked about it because he used to fill in at the Orpheum sometimes back in the day, never something this big though. Apparently its so last minute the band doesn’t have time to fly one of their own people in. It's really good money, and it could be a huge break. Think of how badass your resume will look with something like this on it.”

“My resume? Am I job hunting?”

“Come on.” Lena says, flipping the long braid of her hair over one shoulder in exasperation. “Do you really love substitute teaching kids finger scales so much you want to be here forever.”

“Uh,” Eddie says, suddenly painfully away that Tom the Geometry Teacher is still in the room, not even trying to hide the fact that he’s listening to every word of this conversation. “Yeah, kinda.”

It's not a lie, he really does love teaching. he likes working with the kids, showing them how music can be more than just entertainment, how it can be a thread that weaves through their lives, the good and the bad. God knows it’s certainly saved his life a time or two. He’s even been considering going back to school to get his teacher’s license —subbing and private lessons only pay so many bills. That said, it’s hard to deny that part of him that’s always hoped for just a little bit more. But when does Eddie ever get what he wants? He stopped asking for things a long time ago.

“Fine.” Lena says, her smirk too knowing. “Then it can just be good money and a fun story to tell at parties. You know, assuming you ever turn into the kind of guy who goes to parties.”

“I go to parties.” Eddie insists, trying to ignore the way Tom snorts under his breath. “Ok. Back up. So you want me to—what exactly?”

“Ok.” Lena says, pulling out her phone and beginning to tap madly, “I’m sending you all the info Coop sent me. You’ll meet him at the venue at 9am tomorrow. The band’s manager wants to talk to you. If you get along, Coop says they’ll probably have you play for the group, so maybe practice something tonight, then assuming you get the gig they’ve got a rehearsal blocked out in the afternoon and the show in the evening.” She’s speaking so calmly Eddie can almost believe it isn’t the most insane thing he’s ever heard in his life.

“So I just need to call Coop and confirm?”

“Nope. Did that for you already.” Lena grins at the face he makes. “I wasn’t going to let you not take advantage of this opportunity.” Eddie’s phone vibrates and when he glances down he sees all the info as promised spelled out in black and white.

“You already told him yes? What if I had plans?”

“Do you?” She asks, and then when he can’t come up with an answer has the audacity to share a smirk with Tom. “I didn’t think so.”

“Lena—“ He begins, then falters.

He could fight her on this. It’s a bonkers plan and honestly, if anyone else had thrown him this kind of curveball he’d be pretty pissed about it. On the one hand it’s Lena, who always manages to keep him guessing while having his back at the same time. Mostly anyway. he can’t deny the way his heartbeat is picking up at the thought of getting to play in a group again. He hasn’t really been on stage in years. But on the other hand, he hasn’t really been on stage in years. There’s no guarantee he even gets the job, that he can keep up with whatever it is that they want him to do, and he has less than 24 hours to prepare. He should say no. That would be the sane thing to do.

“Fine.” He says, part resignation and part exhilaration. “But if this goes south you owe me many beers.”

“Trust me, Diaz,” she says, the wide smile on her face so bright he has no choice but to reluctantly grin back. “You’re going to be bringing me the beers.” She looks at him for a moment then says,“Well? Why are you still here? Go on, you’ve got work to do!”

She’s hustling him halfway out the door when he spins back to face her.

“Wait a minute.” he says, “You never told me the name of the band. Do I know them?”

“Normally I’d say yes, but you live under a rock so…?” She lets the sentence hang, but then relents at the sight of whatever his face is doing. “Sorry. Yeah, you ever hear of Station 118?”

Behind them, Tom the Geometry Teacher chokes on his coffee.

#911 on fox #911 fic #buddie big bang 2022 #eddie diaz #evan buckley #firefam #piano player eddie au #benjaminrussell #holy shit guys it’s finally here #this AU has been rattling around in my head for months #and even though this is just the first bit #it feels absolutely incredible to have it up #thanks to all the buddie big bang mods and organizers #this was my first bang and it was really fun

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spidernerdsblog · 3 years

Note

Can you do MMIH blurb where the reader and Tom try and have alone time but the twins keep interrupting and tom gets frustrated and sends them to Nikki's nd Dom's place so they can have alone time?

Got a couple of requests on this concept so here it is the well deserved date night for them. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.

Match made in Hell (series)

DATE NIGHT

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings : 18+, SMUT, minors DNI, soft passionate, bathtub sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Running a business was never easy be it the mob or his new real estate business Tom always found paperwork grating. The constant signing of his initials after scrutinizing the legal documents line by line stacked in those manila folders on the table was strenuous. And on top of that when you walked into his office in the middle of the day dressed in that sundress that drove him insane didn’t help much either. He was quick to put all the work aside and pull you in his lap.

With the kids and a business to run you could barely spare some time for each other. So whenever you managed a little alone time you were all over each other like some horny teenagers all desperate and needy. Your dress was bunched up to your waist, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your ass as you grinded on his growing bulge. Tom’s breath was hot on your neck as he kissed the sweet spot behind your ear that made your knees go weak. You let out a whimper when he slipped a hand between your legs rubbing your clit through your panties feeling your wetness.

“Fuck baby you’re soaked” he grunted hastily undoing his belt and fly. He was about to pull out his throbbing length when you were interrupted by Leah’s sharp voice.

“Mommy! Look, Nate ate my chocolates!”

“No mommy I did not!” Nate retorted as you stopped everything you were doing. Sighing against his mouth you pulled away from Tom.

“Mmmmph don’t go please” he whined, chasing your lips as his grip tightened on your waist in an attempt to keep you close.

“I have to” you kissed his nose and pressed your foreheads together with a smile.

“You know I love them with my life but they are being serious cockblocks lately” he mumbled.

“Don't say like that, they are small and they need me” you snickered.

“What about me? I need you too” he pouted, giving you his best puppy eyes.

“Yeah that is the reason they are here in the first place so now deal with it” you got off his lap standing up and fixing your dress while Tom sat on his chair with a scowl on his face. He knew he was being selfish but you both deserve some alone time together. He can’t remember the last time you cuddled together and poured your hearts out, drifting off to sleep listening to each other's heartbeat. And then suddenly an idea went across his mind.

“By the way, are you going to the diner today?” he asked.

“Yeah, some deliveries will be arriving. I need to check them myself. Why?”

“Try to come home early”

“For what?” you glanced at him questioningly.

“Just be back by six. You’ll get to know” he insisted.

“Ok I’ll try” you left, pressing a gentle kiss on his cheek.

After solving the huge mystery of the stolen chocolates, it turned out that Nate indeed had eaten all of his sister’s chocolates. You made him say sorry to her and then went to your diner. As promised you returned home early and were a little surprised to find the house oddly quieter than normal days.

“Good evening darling. How was your day?” Tom’s voice startled you as he walked in from the backdoor of the mansion. You also noticed how he was dressed differently tonight in a blue turtleneck and trousers, hair gelled back as his rolex glimmered on his wrist.

“It was good but why is it so quiet in here? Where are the kids?” you asked, taking off your overcoat and handing it to Tom who took it from you and hung it on the coat hanger.

“At their grandma's” he informed nonchalantly.

“Thomas Holland, you just did not send our kids to your parents house to have sex with me did you?!” you raise an eyebrow questioningly.

“That’s preposterous! I would never do that!” he gasped dramatically “it had been a long time since they visited their grandparents and mum was missing them too so I dropped them off at my parent’s for tonight” he explained.

“Okay I believe you. So why did you ask me to come home early?”

“Well I thought it has also been a long time we spent time together just the two of us so I arranged a little date night for us” he revealed, smiling with glee.

“Aww that's very sweet of you. So where are we going?” you asked curiously.

“You'll see. Shall we Mrs. Holland?” he held out his hand for you.

“Sure Mr. Holland” you slipped your arm into his with a smile.

Stepping out of the mansion you strolled through the blue stoned walkway hand in hand as he took you to the gazebo built in the middle of your huge lawn. As you neared it your eyes went wide in awe. The gazebo was decorated with fairy lights, a table for two was set with flowers and candles on it and a mix of your favorite songs playing.

“You like it?” he asked softly.

“Oh my god Tom I love it!” you gasped, taking his face between your hands and giving his lips a warm rather long kiss.

“My lady,” Tom pulled out a chair for you.

“Thank you kind sir” you snickered sitting down as Tom took the seat opposite to you. He opens the bottle of wine and pours you both a glass. Raising your glasses in the air for a toast he admires your beautiful face glowing in the soft yellow light emanating from the candles. After you are finished having your dinner which, not to mention was delicious. You reached out your hands, taking his hands in yours gently.

“This was perfect Tom, I really missed spending time with just the two of us” you said, mindlessly tracing his wedding band with your thumb.

“I’m glad you liked Y/N” he gave a warm smile, squeezing your hands lightly.

“Thank you so much Tom for...”

“Ah ah not yet darling” he cuts you off.

“What else did you plan?” you gave him a puzzled look.

“For that we have to go back inside the house”

“I think I already know what the surprise is” you narrowed your gaze, giving him a knowing smirk.

“Oh c’mon you’ll love it I promise” he said with an impish glee.

“We’ll see,” you laughed as you got up from your seats and slowly made your way back into the house and then headed to your room.

“You might wanna change” he whispered into your ears as you felt butterflies in your stomach in anticipation at what he had planned for you “and don’t come in before I say” he added before disappearing inside the bathroom. You unzipped your dress, taking it off as you decided to just put on your satin robe and sat on the edge of the bed wondering what he was doing inside for so long.

“Y/N you can come in now” you heard him call out after sometime. The lights were off as you padded your way inside to have your jaws dropped. Tom had drawn a bubble bath for both of you. The room was lit with your favorite scented candles, the sweet scent looming in the air and rose petals scattered everywhere.

“So what do you think?” Tom asked, sitting inside the bathtub.

“Well you got me speechless Holland”

“I thought what’s better than a relaxing bubble bath at the end of the day”

“Can’t argue with that” you snickered.

“Now come on in before the water gets cold” he invited you.

You untied the knot of your robe and slipped it off your shoulders letting it fall on the floor. Tom’s eyes were on you watching every slight movement of yours mesmerized. He can never get enough of you and your beautiful body. You stepped inside the tub as Tom spread his legs a bit to accommodate you. You sat down between his legs leaning back on his chest instantly relaxing at the feeling of the warm water hugging every inch of your skin as you breath in the aroma of the bubble bath. Tom’s warm chest brushing against your back adds to the feeling as you melt into him soaking in the heat radiating off his body. It was like heaven and this is exactly what you needed.

“Comfortable?” he asked as you nodded in a yes. Tom brought his hands up to your shoulders, gently pushing his thumbs into them, massaging your tired muscles. He rubs his hands all over your shoulders and upper back relieving the knots. A little moan escaped your lips whenever he hit a spot.

“You really need to give serious thought to taking up the job of a masseur” you snickered.

“Well as I told you before it’s only for a special person” he said continuing to massage at the base of your neck.

“It feels good” you sighed in content.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mmhmm” you hummed.

“I have another way to make you feel better” he murmured against the shell of your ear and your breath hitched.

“How’s that?”

Tom wrapped his right arm around you, cupping one of your breasts. He places his other hand on your knee, running it across the expanse of your thigh before dragging them along your inner thigh. The cold wedding band on his ring finger a sharp contrast against your warm skin sending shivers down your body.

He spread your delicate folds with his long fingers and dragged them slowly up and down taking his own time. He littered your neck and shoulder with bites and kisses as his fingers explored you and little waves of pleasure coursed through your body. He switched between pinching your nipple and squeezing your breast as you grind your ass against his cock.

“Want my fingers inside you love?” he purred.

“Yes... yes please Tom” your voice came out shaky yet desperate.

He bites on your shoulder gently as he inserted his pointer and middle finger into you in one swift motion. The feeling of his knuckles pressed deep against you felt so overwhelming makes you clench involuntarily. His fingers massaged your velvety walls pushing in and out of you drawing out delicate moans of his name from you. His thumb soon found your bundle of nerves drawing slow circles around it. You grinded your ass back against him harder as he picks up his pace.

“Needy for my fingers, aren’t ya?” he chuckled as you mewled in response. Your head tilted to the side as he trailed kisses back up your neck, nipping at your earlobe while his fingers worked on your wetness. He whispered praises into your ear as you clenched around his fingers, legs threatening to close. Tom placed a hand on your thigh to keep your legs apart. He could tell you were close as your body grew heavier in his grasp.

“You gonna cum for me darling?” he curled his fingers inside you hitting your spot.

“Yes...fuck Tom... right there” your body fell back against him. Tom knelt down, capturing your lips in a sloppy, passionate kiss as he rubbed at your clit faster. Your body convulsed as your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave. Tom held you against him as you came down from your high you felt his hard cock pressing against your ass.

You turned around in your post orgasmic haze placing your hands on his chest straddling his waist. You captured his lips in a heated kiss, his tongue slipped past your lips dominating you as he ran his hand down your bare back. Your wet bodies rubbing against each other as you moaned into each other's mouths.

“Ride me baby. Wanna feel every inch of you” he said pulling away, the deep baritone of his voice making your pussy throb with need.

You lifted yourself up gripping on his shoulders tightly as Tom grabbed his dick and lined it to your hot, wet and welcoming entrance. You slowly sunk down on him, your eyes rolling in the back of your head as he filled you up. You can never get used to him always stretching you in the most incredible and delicious ways. Tom groaned loudly, bottoming out.

You started to ride him, gradually gyrating your hips in a slow motion. His hands falling to your hips guiding you up and down his length. Your hips meet with each and every thrust, water splashing out of the tub which you could care less about right now. He knelt down peppering your chest with kisses and love bites, your fingers knotted in his hair tugging on the roots as you bounced on his cock.

Tom’s hands slid down to your ass, spreading your cheeks as he took control. You gasped when he picked up the pace, plunging deeper inside you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, clinging onto him as he thrusted up into you mercilessly. You hid your face in the crook of his neck sucking a mark into his skin. Tom felt your body tremble, your walls squeezing him like a vice and he knew you were almost there.

He wrapped an arm around you holding you securely while his other hand reached down between your wet bodies. He began rubbing your oversensitive clit in fast circular motion that sent you tipping off the edge. You wrapped your arms around him trying to keep him as close as possible as you slowly rode out your high. Your walls spasmed around him which sets him off too. His whole body shudders and he spills his seed inside you.

Both of your chests were heaving as you came down for the high. He leaned back against the edge of the tub with you in his embrace. You sit back to find a goofy smile on his face .

“I love you” your hand traces his jaw and you lean in to kiss him “you always take care of me so well” you murmured against his lips. Tom tugged on your bottom lip, a grin forming at the corner of his lips.

“We are just getting started, darling”

..................................................................................

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland imagines #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland fluff #mob! tom #mob! tom holland

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babybluebex · 4 years

Text

of pubs and profs [tom holland smut]

➽ pairing: prof!tom holland x fem!reader (y/n) ➽ word count: 4.7k ➽ summary: you have what you consider the best night of your life, but discover that it was with the worst person possible. ➽ warnings: NSFW/MDNI. smut, explicit language, fingering/oral (f recieving), unprotected sex (i am begging yall to wear a condom irl) ➽ a/n: alright so... don’t fool around with your teacher pls. live vicariously thru y/n :)

He seemed so out of place here. For one thing, a bar like this was hardly known for much good happening, and this man exuded good. He seemed fit, even as he sat at the bar, his face sharp, full of angles that would have been glorious to sketch, and he had caramel-amber hair that curled around his ears and the nape of his neck. He wore a dark blue turtleneck and slacks, a watch with a leather band around his left wrist.

“You’re staring.”

I jumped. I had forgotten that I was mid-conversation. “Huh?”

Zendaya scoffed. “You’re staring at that guy,” she said. “Like, staring super hard. Do you know him?”

“No,” I mumbled. “He’s just…” I trailed off for a moment, then attempted to save face by taking a sip of my drink. “I like the look of him. Ya know?”

Zendaya scoffed at me. “I like the look of him too, but you’re on something else here.” There was a pause between the two of us, and Zen’s mouth split into a smile. “Five bucks.”

“For what?” I asked.

“You can’t get his number,” Zen said. “I’ll give you five whole dollars if you get his phone number.”

“You don’t have five dollars,” I said playfully, with narrowed eyes. “You don’t even have two coins to rub together.”

“Right, and who bought your drink?” Zen asked. “C’mon, you need to put yourself out there. Ever since you and Jacob broke up, it’s been nothing but… Sad. Your room’s a cave, Y/N. Will you do this for me?”

I cast a glance at the guy once more, and I sighed. “Why not?” I mumbled under my breath. “But I had better get that fucking money, or I’ll take away your apartment privileges.”

“I pay half of the rent, fuck you,” Zen laughed. “Go. Go!”

“I am!” I giggled, and I slid myself out of the booth. The pub was bustling with nightly business, and I edged my way past a group of girls to find a place at the bar. My plan of attack was to order a drink and strike up a conversation with this guy, and grab his phone number before I left. Lucky for me, there was an empty space next to him, and I leaned against the bar with my forearms.

“Oh, hey, good lookin’!” the bartender, Jake, exclaimed. He was a close friend of mine, hence why I always chose to drink at this particular bar. Our freshman year, he lived in the room across the hall from me, and we frequented each other for screwdrivers (of both varieties) all year. Since then, we continued to grow close. “What’s cooking?”

“Not a lot, Gyllenhaal,” I replied, and our hands met in a quick dap. “Lemme get a rum and Coke.”

“Sure thing,” Jake said. “Gimme two minutes. We’ve got a bachelorette party in the back.”

“No problem,” I replied, and I watched Jake slide to the other side of the bar.

The game was now on. I looked over my shoulder to Zendaya briefly, just for long enough to gauge that she was laughing at me, and I cast her a look before turning back. Then, I looked back over my other shoulder, the one closest to the guy, and I caught sight of a book he had. “What’re you reading there?”

He looked up at me with big brown eyes, and my breath caught in my chest. From far away, he was hot but, up close, he was totally something else. He had strands of ginger in his dark hair, and his fingers closed the book in order to look at the cover, like he himself wasn’t sure of what he was reading. “Chaos Walking,” he answered, and my eyes widened. His voice was gorgeous, pitched low, accented with a London attitude. “My mate told me I’d like it.”

“Don’t think I’ve read that,” I said, narrowing my eyes. “What’s it about?”

“Well,” he began and laughed lightly. “A lot. Basically, though, it follows a boy who lives in a world with no girls, where you can hear others thoughts, and he meets a girl. It’s sci-fi and… I dunno.”

“Is it a good read?” I asked. “You seem like you enjoy it.” The book was battered, the paper cover torn and creased, with the spine broken. It was a book that was well-loved, and I liked how his entire being seemed to reflect the book.

“Oh, I love it,” he said with a smile. “It’s so fun, ya know? The entirety of the story is incredible.” Then, a beat passed, and he added, “I’m Tom.”

“Well, hi,” I said and gave him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N. No offense, but this sorta place doesn’t seem like your vibe.”

Tom gave the front of the book a firm pat. “It’s not,” he said. “I was waiting on a friend but he doesn’t seem like he’ll be joining me tonight.”

“I didn’t think so,” I said, wrinkling my nose. “You seem like a coffee shop kinda guy.”

“You don’t quite seem like the sort to be here either,” Tom told me.

“How do you mean?”

“You don’t belong in a pub like this, I just know it,” Tom told me. “You’d be better suited somewhere else.”

I shrugged. “I usually don’t leave my apartment to drink,” I said. “But I’m friends with the bartender and I visit every so often just to say hi.” A moment passed. “Wait, back up. Where would I be better suited?”

Tom smiled, but it seemed more hesitant than before. “At the risk of being bold,” he started. “My flat.”

“Jesus!” I breathed, and my face went hot.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “That was-- I’m so sorry--”

“No, no!” I said quickly. “No, it’s not a problem, I promise. That was bold, Tom, but I don’t mind it. As a matter of fact, I think you might be right.”

“Glad we agree,” Tom said. “D’you wanna get out of here now?”

“Sure thing,” I said. My skin prickled at the thought of him against me, and I laid a gentle hand on his arm. “Let me get my bag.”

When I approached the booth, Zendaya stuck her tongue at me. “You lost,” she said.

“Did I?” I asked, pulling my bag onto my shoulder. “Or am I going home with him?”

“Shut up,” Zen laughed. “That was quick as hell.”

“That tends to happen,” I shrugged. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting with Tom.”

“I hate you,” I heard Zen mutter as I turned away from her.

Tom’s apartment--his flat, as he called it--was just a short cab ride from the bar, and I had hardly passed through the front door before his hands were pressing into my waist and his mouth was on mine. In an instant, I had melted into him, and my hands tangled in the bottom of his shirt. His mouth tasted like whiskey, which felt totally in-character for him, and he carefully nipped at my bottom lip.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Tom whispered, and he pushed my hair from my neck in order to brush his lips against my throat. No guys in my past had ever told me that in such clear terms, and my entire body ran hot at his words. A shiver ran down my spine, and he huffed a laugh into my neck. “Do you like when I say that?”

“I just like the way you talk,” I admitted. “Could listen forever.”

“That’s an awfully long time,” Tom told me warmly. His slender fingers inched under my shirt to touch my bare skin, and he slid his hands to lay flat against the small of my back. His kisses lingered on my neck, and the feeling of his soft skin was so lovely. “Let’s start with tonight.”

“I can manage that,” I laughed. “Bed?”

As soon as I was down in his bed, Tom was working my shirt off. His hands were so strong and sure against me, and I had no hesitations in letting him do whatever he pleased. His kisses trailed down to my stomach and chest once they were bare to him, and the feel of his mouth on my hip made me take a fistful of those pretty brown waves of his. He just laughed and continued his pursuit downwards, and he rid me of my jeans and panties before pausing and looking up at me. “Is this alright?” He asked.

“Yeah,” I said. “Just… Yeah.”

“Good girl,” Tom whispered, and I swore I died right there. He took my leg in his strong grip and kissed my inner thigh, and he placed the softest kiss to my quivering cunt. I immediately knew that I was in good hands, and I let my body relax and submit to Tom. His shoulders nudged my legs open further as he pressed his warm tongue to my wetness, and I bit back a moan as I tried to keep my legs from closing. I was already shaking, which was honestly embarrassing, but Tom didn’t seem to mind. In fact, it seemed to encourage him, because he placed a series of sloppy kisses to my throbbing clit that made me squeal. Then, his mouth went straight to where I was leaking, and an obscene slurping filled the air. Fuck, he was good.

“Oh my God,” I whispered, and his fingers quickly joined his tongue. First one, then two, then his thumb met my clit, and I whimpered. “Oh, fuck, oh my God.”

“No need to call me that,” Tom whispered. His breath was hot against my wet cunt, his voice raspy, and I couldn’t help the fluttering that enveloped his fingers. “Just my name will do for now.”

The combination of his fingers and mouth made my stomach quiver, and I knew that it wouldn’t be long before I came. I had never come just from being eaten out, and my heart raged against my ribcage when I dared to imagine what came next. His thumb moved slowly around my clit, and his mouth replaced it as his fingers moved in me deliciously. His tongue, so skilled and quick, took up his thumb’s previous job, and he took the throbbing bud into his mouth and quickly nipped it with his teeth at the same moment that his fingertips found home inside me.

There was no hope of obscuring my moan. “Fuck!” I yelped, writhing in his grip. “T-Tom, fuck.”

“Do you wanna come?” Tom whispered, looking at me through his eyelashes. “Use your words, my darling, please.”

“Please, please,” I gasped. My head fell back to expose my neck, and I squeezed my eyes shut. My breathing was ragged, and a shock of electricity raced through my whole body when he laughed into my cunt.

“Such a needy girl,” Tom chuckled. “You don’t have to ask. Whenever you’re ready, just let me know.”

He lapped at my wet cunt, tasting me like he had dreamt of this, and my hand went from his hair to his shoulder. His waves and curls fell into his eyes, but he kept at his work, even when I pushed at his shoulder. “Tommy,” I whimpered out helplessly. “I-I’m gonna-- You--”

“My darling,” Tom said. “I want you to come on my tongue. Let me taste you, babygirl. Come for me.”

My bottom lip was bitten nearly raw, and it only became worse when he said that. I nearly tasted blood as he gave my cunt one last kiss, so much more gentle than what he had been doing before, and my hips stuttered as hot pleasure pulsed through every part of me. I grabbed handfuls of his shirt and tugged him close, and he came to lay with his hips between my legs. My vision was blurry with tears as I studied him, oh so close to me now, and I felt a tiny pride at his pink cheeks and glistening lips. That was all me. “Oh, thank you,” I whispered, and he sweetly kissed each of my cheeks. “That was so good.”

“I’m glad,” Tom said. “Secretly, I pride myself in being able to do that.”

“You should be proud of that,” I huffed. “Also… ‘my god’?”

“That was in jest,” Tom began with a light laugh.

“I know,” I said. My hands trailed up his back, hiking his shirt up to his shoulders, and he helped me in tugging it off. He shook his hair out once it passed his head, and I added, “It’s a fitting name, though.”

“Really?” He asked, bracing himself above me. “Am I a god, Y/N?”

“Close to it,” I told him. I noticed the way that my hands were trembling as I went to his belt, and he must have noticed as well, because his hands went to my wrists. His hands fit all the way around my wrists easily. It wasn’t rough or dominating by any means; his hands slid up from my wrists to grasp my hands, fingers interlocking with mine as he pressed my hands down beside my head.

“Take a deep breath, my darling,” Tom told me gently. His thumb made comforting circles on my hand, and my stomach went all fluttery at how serene it was. “You’re shaking so hard. Do we need to stop?”

“No,” I told him. “I’m alright. I promise.”

“Alright,” Tom said. “Let me know if we need to stop.”

I nodded quickly, reaching for a handful of his hair, and I tugged him down to kiss me. I could taste myself on his mouth and, normally, that would have irked me, but with Tom, it only made my thighs tense and warmth spread through my body. My skin rippled at each touch of his fingers, and I let out little mumblings of his name as he kissed my neck and shoulders.

A surge of boldness ran up my spine, and I moved my hands from where he had placed them back down to his belt. As it seemed was the norm, he was two steps ahead of me, because he was already in the process of leaning back and pulling off his pants. The bedroom was cast only in the soft light of the lamp beside the bed, but I still captured every freckle, hair, and ridge on Tom’s firm chest and stomach. He was the definition of the skinny white guy that had good dick. Or, at least, he gave good head. But someone that good at giving head had to be as skilled elsewhere, right?

He was back on me in an instant, kissing my neck and making little marks on my skin as I shoved his pants down his thighs. Tom’s hands captured my legs and drew them around his naked waist, and I gasped aloud when I felt his hard cock brush against my cunt, already throbbing once more. In fear of seeming dumb, I didn’t intentionally look, but I could feel the weight of his cock against my body, and I stuttered, “God, Tommy..”

“That impressive, huh?” Tom laughed.

“Of course,” I remarked. “What, have you never been told you have a big cock before?”

Tom lifted his head from my neck, and I let out a giggle at his blown-wide pupils and red cheeks. “Where the hell have you been all my life?” He asked with a smile. He laughed, and I noticed the way that wrinkles formed right by his eyes with the extremity of his smile. That was adorable as hell. “You’re gorgeous and so funny, and you’re complimenting me like this? You’re perfect.”

“I’ve just been waiting for you, I guess,” I shrugged and ran my hands over his built arms, rock solid like a statue.

“Sorry it took me so long to find you,” Tom smiled. “Traffic was a bitch.”

I laughed, my head falling back onto the pillows, and Tom situated the head of his cock at my folds. At the feel of it, I gasped, and he swallowed my gasp with a kiss. “Let me know if we need to stop,” he reminded me, kissing my chin gently.

“I’m fine,” I told him, even though I was shaking so fiercely. Tom sank himself into me, and the deep rumble of his moan made my back arch up against him. “Fuck, darling,” he mumbled. “Cunt’s so tight… Squeezing the hell outta me.” His fingers dug into my hip, surely leaving bruises to later admire, and he snapped his hips forward so that he was fully in me.

“More,” I whispered. I wasn’t sure what I wanted more of; I just knew that I wanted more of whatever he ended up giving me.

My whole body thrummed with blood and life as he fucked me, pausing to pant into my neck and kiss my mouth. His back was taut with hard muscles and I raked my fingers down to his waist and back up to his hair. A curl had escaped the rest of his hair and bounced against my forehead with each thrust, and Tom and I each huffed out a laugh at it. Silently, I reached up and twisted the perfect curl around my finger, and Tom gave me another eye-wrinkling smile.

“F-Fuck, darling,” Tom muttered, and I could tell by his stuttering that he was close. The rhythm of his hips had slowed, but his grip on my waist and legs was as tight as ever. “So fuckin good for me, God.”

“I’m getting close again, Tommy,” I told him, my voice shaking. I’m sure he already knew, what with the way my chest was hot and my breathing was erratic, but I still wanted to see the look on his face when I said it.

“Oh, me too, my darling,” Tom whispered. His hand fell from its place at my hip and came to rest on my stomach, just above the point where he had himself buried inside me, and his thumb-- that damned thumb of his-- slid down until he was playing with my clit once more. There was an urgency this time, though, his movements quicker and messier. With each thrust, his own belly quivered, and I desperately pulled at his hair. I needed him to come first. I needed to feel him spill himself inside of me. I needed to feel his cum leak out of me, to hear him laugh at the mess we made like I knew he would. I needed so much. I just needed him.

“Tommy,” I whimpered, keening into his touch. “Fuck, Tom--”

His lips crashed into mine, and that was all it took. My legs shook around his waist, and my vision went white-hot for a moment. His thrusts were messy, his waves and curls completely undone and hanging in his eyes, and he watched with a greedy gaze as I writhed under him. I pulled his head down into my neck and he resumed his work of nipping my skin and soothing the sting with his tongue, and I kissed the shell of his ear. “Oh, Tom,” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear over the sounds of our shared gasps. “Please, for me?”

He pulled himself from me and was spilling in an instant, covering my waist and stomach in his warm cum. He settled himself on his elbows above me once again, and I took care to brush those waves off of his forehead. His hair had gone super curly with the little bit of sweat on his forehead, and I bit the tip of my tongue. “Yeah?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Tom agreed. “Let me get you a towel. Stay right there.”

“Wasn’t really planning on going anywhere, honestly,” I laughed.

When he returned, he was wearing a pair of boxers and a t-shirt that hugged his muscled frame. He sat beside me and carefully wiped me clean with the wet corner of a towel, and he placed a sweet kiss on my forehead. “Are you feeling alright?” Tom asked. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’m fine,” I told him. “Thanks, though.”

“No worries,” Tom told me. “You’re welcome to stay the night, if you’d like. I must warn you, though, that I like to cuddle.”

“I would have expected nothing less,” I told him. I sat up, testing my legs for a moment, and my cheeks went hot. “Umm… I don’t think I can walk.”

Tom’s eyes went big for a moment, and he reached for me with a hesitant hand. “Are you kidding?” He asked.

“My legs are shaking too hard,” I whispered and bit my lip.

“Oh, my darling, I’m so sorry,” Tom told me, his eyebrows pitching up. “I truly didn’t mean to hurt you--”

“You didn’t,” I said quickly. “It’s… This is a good thing. I promise.”

There was a brief exchange that ended with Tom giving me a shirt to sleep in and me promising him that I won’t try to walk until my legs quit shaking. We found each other again once in bed, my head fitting snugly under his chin, and his fingernails lightly scratched up and down my back. The feel of his strong arms around me, holding me in such a protective way, lulled me to sleep.

The night passed under a thin veil of dreams. All too soon, an alarm began to blare, scaring me fully awake in a second. From the darkness, there was a groan of displeasure, and a grunt as the bed squeaked and shifted, and the alarm was turned off with a solid stab of a finger. “Sorry, darling,” Tom whispered. “I forgot I have an early morning today.”

“You’re fine,” I whispered. The lamp turned on, and I was met with Tom, his hair messy and frizzy, his face flushed with good sleep. I stretched my arms above my head, allowing a quick squeal, and I said, “I should probably be heading out soon too. I have an eight AM.”

“Ugh,” Tom groaned. “I hate those.”

“Right,” I agreed. “Who wants to learn at eight in the morning?”

“The poor instructor,” Tom laughed. His voice was lower than before, scratchy as well, and my chest warmed at the sound. He fixed his hair out of his face, and he turned to see me, still wrapped up in his shirt and blankets. “You look cozy.”

“I am,” I said softly. “Wish I could stay for just a little longer.”

“Pursuit of knowledge is an honorable one, though, darling,” Tom told me. “Would you like to shower first?”

“No,” I said. “I have to go by my apartment to get my stuff and change clothes anyway, I’ll just shower there.”

“Alright,” Tom nodded. He reached for me and I met him halfway, brushing my lips to his in a soft kiss, and he gave me a light laugh. “I need to get your phone number. I’d love to do this again.”

“I’d like that too,” I said. I gave him a parting kiss, then worked myself from the bed. I stretched once more, feeling my back pop, and I found my bag by the door to the bedroom. I gave Tom my phone, open to a new contact listing, and he gave a mischievous smile before plugging in his information. “What’s that smile all about?”

At the top of my screen, it read Big Dick Tom.

“Oh, God,” I laughed. “That’s really gone to your head, hasn’t it?”

“You’re the one who told me that,” Tom argued. “And, if someone tells you that you have a big dick, you take that shit to heart.”

“Sure, sure,” I said quickly. “I’ll text you; maybe we can get dinner this weekend?”

Tom gave me a smile that was fit for a king. “Of course, my darling girl.”

Tom ended up sending me home with the shirt I had slept in. It was for some carpentry school in Wales, but it was soft and smelled like Tom, so I didn’t really mind the odd reference. Just before I left, he had swept me up in his arms and kissed me, and he pressed his forehead to mine. “This might be premature,” he whispered. “But do you wanna be my girlfriend?”

Zendaya slapped a five dollar bill in my hand when I entered the apartment. “Did you have a good time?” she asked.

“The best,” I told her. “He’s super sweet and a great time, and he asked me to be his girlfriend.”

“You said yes, right?” Zen asked.

“Duh,” I scoffed. “A hot Brit who likes me? I’m not letting that go.”

“Right,” Zen said, and the smile dropped from her face. “Well, while you were off getting dick from your new man, our literature professor dipped.”

“What?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Zen said, spinning her laptop to face me. She had an email pulled up from the head of the department, declaring that our professor, our beloved Dr. Osterfield, would not be teaching the course any longer. Buried in the text of the email, it said the name of the replacement professor: Dr. Holland. “I tried to look this guy up, but he’s not on Rate My Professor or anything.”

“It’s halfway through the fuckin’ semester,” I groaned. “This blows.”

“I just hope this new guy’s easy,” Zen groaned. “I can’t deal with a hard class right now.”

The class was still held in the same room as before, and the general air was worse than a normal eight AM. At least, with Dr. O, he had an infectious energy that woke us all up. Nobody knew what to expect with this new guy. I hoped that, for my sake, he was cool.

The door to the classroom opened, and a man said, “I apologize for the wait. It’s just my luck that I’d be late today…”

My whole body went cold and my heart stopped. Tom. My boyfriend, my fucking Tom stood at the front of the small lecture hall, wearing the jeans and white buttoned shirt that I had helped pick out. “Well, this is a strange thing, isn’t it?” Tom chuckled, clasping his hands together. “I’ll explain, don’t worry. But first, I think maybe an introduction is in order.”

He unwound his bag from his shoulder and opened it for a moment, and a whole new wave of dread washed over me. While he was in the shower, I had written him a quick note and stuck it in his bag. It was nothing more than “thanks, love. hope to see you soon xx”, but a smile split his face wide. “Sorry,” he mumbled. “Apparently, my girlfriend left me a little note. Hmm! Anyway, I’m Dr. Holland. Call me that, or Tom, or any variation of the above. I promise you, I’ve heard it all.”

Tom settled himself on the edge of his desk and he fluffed up his hair a bit. It was then that a quiet wave of titters passed through every girl in the hall; a hickey. It was small, but it was there, right under his ear. “I went to school in London, where I’m from, before I got a degree in English literature from Cambridge. Then, I came to the States and managed to get my doctorate in it, and, who’d have guessed it, this is my first teaching job. Go easy on me, huh?.” My little note, written on a sticky note, was clasped in his hand, and I seriously wanted to die right then and there. My professor. I was stupid. Of course the stars had aligned (or misaligned?) to allow this to happen. And just when I thought I found the right guy, too.

“Right,” Tom said. “Let’s look at the attendance, see what we’re working with, and I’ll let you guys fill me in on what Dr. Osterfield was covering.”

The closer he got to my name, the colder my face went. I hated every single moment of it. “And… Y/L/N? Y/N?”

I quietly raised my hand, then managed a meek, “Here.”

His eyes trained on me, and I watched the same recognition flood his eyes. Quickly, though, Dr. Tom Holland averted his gaze back down to his computer, and he said, “There you are, Y/N… Can I see you after class?”

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #smut fanfiction #prof!tom #i'm so excited for this yall #u don't get it

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parkers-gal · 4 years

Note

maybe a cute little blurb about tom and the reader announcing they’re engaged to their parents/families?

enjoyyy :)

requests are open

wc: 1.5k (sorry, went overboard with this)

—

Tom gave you no option, really. You had no choice but to love him, to fall for him as hard as you did. Oftentimes, you thought about how inevitable it was, how inevitable he was. You knew his trap was inescapable, but you were too exhilarated, too thrilled with the idea of being his, that you let him trip you. You let him, let him trip you until you fell hard.

If Tom had fallen any harder, he was positive he’d break his nose for the fourth time in five years. But no, he definitely fell, but he didn’t hit rock bottom. He’d fallen for you, and that was the scariest thing in the entire world to him — losing you, falling so hard and fearing if you’d leave. He knew if you did leave, he’d never recover, never truly live the same way.

So he’s asking for you to be his, for forever. Granted, forever is a long time, and that’s almost what Tom loves most about it. He loves calling you his, knowing you’re connected at the hip, in the mind, with your hearts. But he also loves having the security of everyone else knowing it, too.

You love it too — you love what the ring symbolizes. Your Tiffany & Co. ring, a dashing 1.27 carats. You love Tom, and the way his mind works — he didn’t go the traditional route in getting your parents’ blessing and buying a ring. Instead, he’d asked you casually.

“Hey, love.” Tom walks into the kitchen, sitting on the counter beside the stove where you’re heating the kettle for some tea.

“What’s up, baby?”

“Do you… wanna go shopping today?”

“For what?”

“A ring.”

You freeze, glancing up at him with shocked eyes, eyes full with pleasant surprise.

“A ring?”

“For… you. For us- for… marriage?”

“Tommy…” You lean back, mouth open slightly. You can feel tears starting to form, starting to wet your eyes. It’s love — you can feel it — it’s love that’s wetting your eyes, your cheeks, your face. It’s love that causes these happy tears. “What’re you saying?”

“I’m saying…” He jumps off the counter, grabbing both of your hands after coming closer to you, filling up the space between you and him. “That I want you to be mine for… the rest of my life.”

“Tom,” You pout. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That you’ll let me?” His eyes are more hopeful than they’ve ever been in his entire life. Even more so than when he’d auditioned for Spider-man. He’s practically on his knees for you, sacrificing his heart in return for yours. “That you’ll let me be yours?”

You break into a smile, arms wrapping around his neck, lips by his ear as you whisper your response, feverishly and softly and passionately. “Of course, I’ll let you. You’ve always been mine.”

That day, the two of you went into Tiffany & Co. together, pointing at the jewels and bands and accessories with smiles wider than the Grand Canyon. You had a feeling, later on, that perhaps every store worker was watching the two of you, watching your love bounce off the walls of the fancy shop. They were watching you with jealous eyes, with proud eyes, that you were taking this large step together, and decided to include them in just a small piece of your journey together.

It’s been a month since then, and for the first time ever, you’re wearing your ring out in public. You’re having dinner with Tom’s family and your own family. It’s your parents’ anniversary — at least, last week it was, but they decided to celebrate with connected family later on — which means close family is gathering for a small dinner party.

“Don’t get cold feet on me.” Tom’s chin rests in the crook of your neck as he hugs you from behind. You’re looking in the full-length body mirror, adjusting your clothes as you slip the engagement ring on your finger like you’ve done so many times when you’re alone.

“Never, Tommy.” You return his smile, turning around in his arms and leaning to give him a soft kiss. It’s not a peck, but it’s not messy — it’s passionate and intimate and everything you’ve ever wanted. It’s what you’ve dreamed of, fantasized, read in every romance novel you could get your hands on.

It’s easy, being in love with Tom. It’s the easiest thing you’ve ever done and the most difficult thing in the world. It’s hard when everybody wants to be in your place, when everybody wants to be his. But it’s easy, knowing that he’d never trade his place for anything in the universe. If he’s not by your side, then he’s betrayed everything he’s ever told himself.

He’s complete by your side. That’s cliche, and even he knows it, but nothing has ever felt so true to him. Nothing has ever felt so right.

You lock the front door, holding your potato quiche with two hands as you make your way to the car. Tom sets the gift bag in the backseat before opening the passenger for you. You smile, thanking him, and he steals a cheek kiss before closing the door. You chuckle, setting the quiche on your lap as you buckle your seat belt. He does the same, buckling his seatbelt and shifting the gear, leaving the driveway before offering you his hand.

You accept it, interlocking your fingers. He blushes at the gesture, giddy inside. There’s something so intimate about affection in an act as simple as driving or even cleaning the dishes. There’s something so knee weakening about needing to feel someone against your skin in the simplest of acts. Against your skin in a raw way that isn’t animalistic, passionate yet not feverishly or greedy. There’s something so butterfly-provoking about displays of love in settings that aren’t even romantic.

It’s suffocating yet addicting at the same time. He’s addicting, but not as much as you.

As you get closer to the front door of the Holland household, you find yourself covering your hands with the sleeves of your hoodie. As you enter the house, you’re too caught up in greetings and hugs and food and people to realize you haven’t let the piece of jewelry show.

Dinner hasn’t even been served yet and you’re already growing hot and sweaty. You’re sipping wine, leaning against the fireplace with Tom’s arm around your waist. He’s calmly sipping beer, fingers ever present on your skin. As he leaves yet another kiss against the underside of your ear, you feel urged to ask to make the announcement now, rather than during dessert.

“Can we… tell them now?”

“Really?” He pauses his latest kiss against your neck, whispering back to you. When you nod, he smiles and mirrors your headshake. “May I take your jacket then, kind lady?” He puts on a Victorian accent and you giggle.

“If you insist.”

As your arms are stripped of the hoodie, you hand it off to him for safekeeping in the coat closet. When he returns to your side, your hands are behind your back, waiting for Tom to gather everyone’s attention.

“Hey, everyone, there’s uh- there’s something we’d like to talk about with everyone.”

As Harry raises a brow, he makes eye contact with his twin who hollers for Nikki to come in from the kitchen for a moment. Your parents are bewildered, as is your sister and Harrison.

With a final look at Tom, you smile as Nikki settles onto the arm of a chair Dominic is sitting in. You hold up your left hand, proudly showing off the newest ring to your collection. Your mom gasps first, and Nikki stands up quickly when she realizes what she’s seeing.

Paddy looks at Tom for positivity on what this means, and he can only smirk with a blush brighter than the star he named after you. All in a matter of seconds, your mothers are running towards you, Harrison and Sam and Harry screaming in excitement, in congratulations. Tom is hugging your father, shaking his hand nervously.

Your sister is next to see you, pulling you into her embrace with a teary smile and happy eyes. “You’re… gonna be married.”

You laugh, nodding as you try not to cry too. “Yeah.”

“So he’s the one, huh?”

“Yeah,” You eye Tom, who’s talking to your mother and your sister’s husband. “He’s… the only one.”

When you turn your head back in your sister’s direction, she’s looking at you with soft eyes and an adoring smile. You try not to get flustered, but when you look at Tom again, he’s looking at you already, all the way from across the living room.

He’s smiling in a way he never has before, looking at you as if you’re the only person he’s ever laid eyes on. Goosebumps raise on your skin, a chill sent straight up your spine, and suddenly, you know you’re meant to do this for the rest of your life.

#husband!tom hollland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland blurb #tom holland fluff #tom holland fluffy #tom holland angst #tom holland #tom holland x y/n

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piratewithvigor · 3 years

Text

How I listen to each of my favourite bands (a bullet point piece)

Aerosmith: They're on the radio. It's the fifth time today. Somehow never the same song. Until tomorrow, anyway. One will make you homesick. One will make you sit in slack-jawed awe of Joe Perry. One will make you curse the day he was born. They all make you love him. In the back of your mind, your thumbs hurt.

The Beatles: You have all the studio albums on your iPod nano with the scroll wheel. It has 2GB of space, so there's nothing else. You sing along to the songs with your best friend in 7th grade during school. The teacher tells you to keep it French or to shut up. You switch to "Michelle" because you're 12 and a smartass.

Bon Jovi: You're on the bus home from a long day of fifth grade. When you get home, the same old, same old. You don't know it yet but this is the beginning of your depression. As you graduate from Crossroads to a 2-Disc Best Of, everything feels worse. You work on a puzzle in the basement and even though maybe no one will ever love you, Bon Jovi understands.

Buddy Holly: For the first time since high school started, you have a friend. She's wonderful and she understands you. Maybe there's 3 time zones between you, but it doesn't stop you from digging a hole deep into a fantasy world that you live in for months with her. Buddy's music is simple and the records are bright yellow. Maybe everything will be okay.

David Bowie: You didn't care when he died. You didn't know better. You got a CD of greatest hits for your birthday two months later. You still didn't understand the fuss all too well. A few tracks pop out at you and you get the album that features them. Dad insists you listen to the album in the dark on the floor (he doesn't say while smoking weed, but if it were the 70s, you would have). Finally you understand: David understands you.

Def Leppard: You're 13 and trying to find your place in the world. Trying to make a name, so you write. As the characters who make no sense are fleshed out in 1667 words every single day, the drum loop that finished Pyromania follows you around.

The Doors: You don't know how Jim Morrison came into your life. Maybe it was by an experiment gone wrong or a curiosity. Your classmates question why you're reading a book with a shirtless man posed as if being crucified. You don't know how to answer that you think you might be him. You hadn't believed in reincarnation, but he sparked something inside you. You can feel consciousness slip away when he plays his game called 'Go Insane'. You hold a Celebration Of The Lizard for a poetry slam and the adrenaline pushes you through your fear. You feel Jim's words in your actions for years. He watches you when you sleep.

GNR: You send your siblings out of the basement. They aren't old enough to hear swear words in music and you want to listen to Appetite in the dark. You want to jump on top of the couch and punch the floor. You can feel Axl's anger and it courses through you.

Journey: You've been told you look like Steve Perry. You aren't sure if it's a compliment or an insult. You think you sound like him. You know all the words to Don't Stop Believing at the school dance. Your first memory of your boyfriend was him singing it at the talent show. Your last memory of him is singing I'll Be Alright Without You, severing the final tie. Wheel In The Sky opens your next day. Things don't feel okay anymore.

KISS: You're 4 years old and your Dad is watching the scariest freaks you've ever seen on the TV. In the next scene, the scariest one is sitting and talking to people who look like your grandparents. You forget about them for 7 years. They show up again in your newest hyperfixation and you give them a chance. The freaks who once scared you strip away your fears and set you free.

Led Zeppelin: Your imagination was just opened to the possibilities of stories beyond the realms of reality. What you thought you never knew opened you to a new layer of your past that you didn't understand. The tendrils of influence wrap around every part of your future.

Motley Crue: The writings paint them as the villains. In many ways, they are. In just as many ways, they're the same scared kids you are. For better or for worse, they bring you into a community. There, you experiment hurting yourself in ways therapists don't look for. The greatest friend you could ever want.

Ninja Sex Party: They're a rock band for kids who don't understand rock bands. You have no physical media for them and it feels like you may never get the chance. Copies are limited. So your spotify is thick with every song they've ever recorded. They're fleeting and they're your rock.

Queen: You know just a little too much about them. They're bigger characters than the radio lets them be. You love Bohemian Rhapsody before you begin to hate it before you learn to love it once more.

Rammstein: As they bleed for their art, so you bleed for yours. Perhaps out of spite, perhaps out of desperation, but plague cuts your work short. It cuts you from the glory you could have had. The first album you've ever waited for the release of by a band.

Reckless Love: Never before has a band felt so attainable and yet so far away. Your family doesn't understand them, so you hide them away. The only recklessness was falling in love.

Rolling Stones: Angie helped you through more than you know. The lips are on your tapestry for a reason. You were blind for so much for so long. You never gave them a chance. They're using their chance now.

Rush: Once shrugged-off nobodies. You gave them a chance out of curiosity and desperation. Now you can't understand the possibility of never having liked them. They brought you your first great grief and your first proof of miracles. The red star of the solar federation burns bright. Assume control.

Styx: You're standing in the snow. The bus is an hour late. You can't contact your parents because they took your one method of contact as a punishment for not making your bed. You're listening to a Greatest Hits on your iPod. Crystal Ball. It's an hour. Blue Collar Man. You get home and no one noticed you were late. They're eating without you. Suite Madam Blue.

Tom Petty: The news hits you. Your throat is blocked and you don't say anything. You listen to I Won't Back Down before telling your Dad. He was the first you experienced while being a fan. He wasn't the last. You torture yourself artistically in his honour. You attend a tribute concert and scream yourself hoarse.

Tuff: You want to leave home and block out all the memories as best you can. Stevie makes it impossible. But he's also one of the only ones there as all your best friends who aren't online forget your birthday. He acknowledges you.

Van Halen: The grief is insurmountable. For weeks afterwards, Eruption makes your heart sink. 5150 makes you cry instead of imagine pleasant nonsense as it once did. There is no comfort. If he can go, what's stopping anyone else?

The Who: Maybe they got to your head a little. You were sitting in a room in school for hours each day, completely alone except for Tommy playing on your tiny laptop. No supervision. No classmates. Just your monstrosity of a project and Tommy.

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

Always Mine-John Shelby x Reader

(GIF credit to @tommyshhelby)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Can you please do a imagine where y/n and John were childhood sweethearts (no Martha) and she has known the peaky blinders her whole life and they love her too but then John has to marry esme and even though tommy does feel bad he does it anyway.Y/n works in the betting house so they see eachother every day she acts like it doesn’t bother her but is obviously a bit distant with John who is still inlove with her but she is respectful of the marriage so when Michael comes in he has a crush on y/n and kinda flirts with her and John gets jealous not sure if it’s a John or Micheal imagine your choice’

Characters: John Shelby x Reader, Thomas Shelby x Reader (platonic), Michael Gray x Reader (platonic), Polly Gray x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name (Y/L/N)=Your last name

Warnings: Heartbreak, swearing, mentions/intentions of sex, arguing, violence, slight fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Heartbreak, many people went through it, many people wanted to avoid it. Although your heart wasn’t physically damaged, it felt like it was. Humans often forget how strong their emotions are. Emotions are part of our survival, they determine how we live, it controls our day, what decisions we make. Unfortunately to live, we had to experience sadness. You could turn it around and say that the bad times made the good times stronger, more enjoyable. But it’s hard to think positively when you’re stuck in a terrible situation.

“He....He’s getting married?” I whispered out, clutching onto my dressing gown as the cold air blew into the house.

Tommy was stood outside, I had invited him inside, but I was glad I hadn’t now.“Today/ I’m sorry (Y/N), it has to be done.”

“Why? Why wouldn’t he tell me?”

“John doesn’t know. And you can’t tell him.”

“Why are you telling me this? I could easily run to him now and tell him.”

“If you do that, you’ll put us all in danger.”

I was growing more angry by the second.“Aren’t you always in danger?”

“This is different. It will benefit the whole family, the Peaky Blinders. He has to do this (Y/N).”

I shook my head at him, crossing my arms over my chest. What with it being so early in the morning, no one else was out in the street, it was slightly dark, with a low fog roaming the streets.“You know I love him. You know how we feel about each other. I’m just confused. Why would you tell me this before they get married? I could go tell him, we could run away together like we said we would since we were fifteen.”

“Because I love you (Y/N). You’re basically family. It felt wrong not to. But I can’t lose you at work either. You need to stay.”

I scoffed.“I can’t believe this! You really think I’m going to stay and see the man I love everyday with a wedding ring on his finger? I can write up my resignation now if you want-”

“(Y/N)-”

“Honestly Tommy, this is taking the piss. You get away with a lot of shit, but this is just fantastic-”

“(Y/N)!”

“Wait here, I’ll get a pen and some paper-”

“(Y/N) would you just listen for a second!?” he yelled, silencing me.“You would be as equally angry with me if I told you after. Just be happy that I mentioned it at all.”

That had been the longest day of my life. Knowing that my worst fear had come true, the man I loved was marrying someone else, made time move at an incredibly slow pace. Part of me pondered crashing the wedding, if I knew where it was or who he was marrying, but I knew that Tommy was partly right. He had a huge responsibility to keep control of his power, but the way he manipulated his family infuriated me.

“John, are you sure you want to marry me?” I said to him as we laid down in a field.

“You’re really asking that after what we just did?” he asked, doing up his trousers.

“Well, Susanne and Jack do the same as us, and he hasn’t asked her.” my (not so) innocent seventeen year old self pointed out.

“Believe me, I would not be suggesting that sort of thing if I didn’t mean it.”

“So you don’t ask every girl you fuck to marry you?” I teased.

He leaned over me.“I haven’t slept with that many.”

I rolled my eyes.“I don’t care how many girls you fucked before me. As long as I’m the one who gets this sort of treatment for the rest of your life, I’m happy.”

He smirked, kissing me.“You’ve been the best out of all of them.”

“Because I do anything you want.”

He leaned down to my ear, whispering,“Because you feel fucking amazing.”

I blushed, wishing I was able to tease him more.“I’m serious John, that’s a serious commitment.”

Although we were being flirty, I knew when he was being truthful.“(Y/N), I don’t want anything else. I want you beside me. My family loves you, you’re already a Shelby in their eyes, and mine. I know they say we’re young, but these feelings I have for you re strong. I wake up thinking about you, I see other women and think, my (Y/N) is so much prettier than you. And yes, thinking about you writhing and moaning beneath me is pleasurable,” I playfully punched his shoulder, which he laughed at,“but imagining you at home with the kids, waiting for me to come back and embracing me as soon as I step foot in our house, that’s all I could ever ask for in life.”

I sobbed as I thought about that memory. We were so happy back then. We were carefree, easily daydreaming about what could have been. Then harsh reality hit us in the face. He was being forced into an arrangement with some wild gypsy girl. We were supposed to be married, I was the one whose last name should have been Shelby.

I didn’t want to hear about the wedding day. I knew that Pol, Ada or any other woman in that betting shop wouldn’t mention it in front of me.Though how was I ever to stop thinking about how the man I loved was married to someone else when I worked with him? And his new wife? Esme also had no say in this, she had been unruly and apparently the only way to sort that was to marry her off. But why did she have to work here too? She hated it here, she could never sit still. It was in her nature to be outside all the time, to run free and wildly along with the horses. Not cramped up in a betting shop counting money, surrounded by the lowest of men. Having to sit across from her as I worked was torture, seeing the wedding band made my stomach turn.

"(Y/N)?" John called me, standing in the doorway of his office.

I caught Esme glancing towards me, though I didn't care. It wasn't as if anything was about to happen, John hadn't even spoken to me since they married, not properly anyway. I had been civil towards his wife, but only speaking to her when I absolutely had to. Quietly sighing, I closed the book I had been writing in, picking up a smaller notebook and pen before entering his office. Some workers were peeking at us, they knew the drama, and it didn't help that his office was basically made of windows, meaning everyone could see us.

"You can sit down, you know you can." John gestured to the chair across from his desk, though he didn't sit.

I said nothing back.He groaned.

"Come on (Y/N), you know I hated when you gave me the silent treatment."

"Is there something you needed from me Mr Shelby?"

"You know, that only sounded nice coming from you when we were in a different environment." he smirked, thinking I would break. He was absolutely wrong.

"I have a lot of work to be getting on with-"

"I don't love her."

My eyes widened, and I kept my voice low."For fucks sake John, we shouldn't be talking about this here."

"You know I don't!" he stood in front of me, but I quickly backed away, not wanting to draw attention to ourselves."She's some random gypsy Tommy picked up on the side of the road. Esme isn't you."

"And yet you're stuck with her. So let bygones be bygones. Did you actually need me?"

"I always need you, and I will always want you."

"Right, thank you for wasting my time sir."

I promptly left, feeling my throat get tight as I pushed back my tears. If I spoke another word, my voice would crack, giving away how I truly felt. Instead of returning to where I was originally sat, I headed to the kitchen, not wanting to see Esme. It was obvious her gaze was on me as I brushed past, though I took no notice. Once there, I made myself busy filling the kettle with water and beginning to make tea, just to distract myself. As it boiled, I gripped onto the edge of the counter, painfully holding back my sobs. I couldn’t do this for the rest of my life, it was emotionally exhausting, it was torturous.

“You can’t keep up this act forever.” Polly appeared.

I didn’t bother facing her.“I know. I already told Tom I would hand him my resignation letter, he refused.”

“No, we can’t lose you, even if we had enough staff. I want you to know that I had nothing to do with that. You know what Tommy is like with his ‘big ideas’.”

I finally looked at her.“My worst fear came true. He’s with someone else. He’s married, but not to me. It’s been in our heads for so long, it was all too good to be true.”

Before Polly could speak, I saw her glance behind me. Turning around, I saw Esme standing in the doorway, her usual scowl on her face as she grabbed a mug from a cupboard.

“I’m assuming you brewed a full pot?” she asked.

“Yes.” I replied.

She put her mug beside mine, making sure it thudded against the counter. When she left, I ran my hands down my face, seriously considering walking out. Polly decided to not add anything. We would just go in circles, trying to cheer me up, reassure me, convince me to stay etc.

Managing to get through the rest of the day, I sighed in relief and tiredness as everyone started to pack their things. Putting on my coat, I smiled at one my colleagues who was approaching me.

“John has asked for you.” they warily said.

I rolled my eyes.“Did he say what he wants?”

He shook his head.“Sorry, wants you in there soon as.”

I thanked him as he left, along with everyone else. Esme held back, obviously glaring at me. She disappeared into John’s office for less than a minute before walking out again, leaving without her husband. I watched the door shut, leaving just John and I. My stomach twisted, heart beating incredibly loudly in my ears as I took my first few steps to his office. I stood in the doorway, hating that he was already looking at me, I was incredibly nervous.

He stood from his chair.“(Y/N)-”

“Please tell me this is about work.”

“I need to speak to you.”

“John, I can’t do this. We’re finished now-”

I started to walk away, not surprised when he followed, but shocked when he grabbed me, turning me around to face him.

“I know you feel the same as me. I can’t fucking stand it! I don’t want to be married to her. I don’t want to fuck her in our bed. I’ve only ever imagined coming home to see you there, not her!”

“Well that won’t happen now, will it?!” I snapped back, trying to make him let go of my arms.

As I struggled, John was able to keep a grasp on me.“It can! We’ll figure out a way! But I need to kiss you. I need to be able to hold you in my arms, to really feel you. I want to keep planning our future together.”

“Tommy has made his decision, and with this family, anything he says goes! You really think we could change any of this? Even if we did, imagine the trouble you would all be in.”

“I don’t care. I would take ten bullets to the chest if it meant being with you.”

“You can’t be saying things like that.”

His eyes were crazy, staring into my soul, fingers pressing into my skin. I felt him pull me closer, it was ever so slow, and I could have stopped it. But I didn’t. We cautiously leaned in for a kiss, making memories and feelings flood back. His hands relaxed, moving up to cup my face. The passion didn’t last long, because before I knew it, I was being pushed back against a desk, clumsily lying on my back. John wasted no time to touch my breasts, continuing to kiss me as it slid down my body, disappearing up my skirt. Although it was extremely tempting to carry on, the weighing guilt made me stop him.

“John.” I breathed out, giving him the wrong idea as he kept going, sucking on my neck. I pushed against him.“John, stop.”

He pulled away.“What? What’s wrong?” he went straight back down to my neck, trying to unbutton my blouse.

“Stop!” I said a little louder, managing to sit up and push him away.

“(Y/N), I know it’s been a while but-”

“It’s not that, you idiot! You’re married!”

“To a woman I don’t love!”

I let out a frustrated scream, buttoning up my blouse again as I stood.“I’m not going to be that woman sleeping with married men, I’m not a whore!”

“Why are you denying your feelings? We were supposed to get married.”

“We were kids back then.”

He pointed an accusing finger at me.“I said that to you every year, we were always waiting for the right time!”

“Life doesn’t always work out John!” I yelled.“This is just as agonising to me as it is to you! But if we ruin this, the Lee’s are going to come for you all, and there’s already enough on your plates to deal with them.”

“I don’t give a fuck about them-”

“But I give a fuck about you living!” I snatched up my coat and handbag, pushing past him towards the door. With my hand on the handle, I calmed down before speaking again.“Obviously we weren’t meant to be. Though at least we didn’t take our time together for granted. Don’t try any of that again John, I mean it.”

For the next week, I didn’t utter a word to John, I didn’t even glance in his direction. I considered sending in my resignation. But after thinking about it, I knew I couldn’t bring myself to do it. These people were my family, I grew up in this business. If I left, I had a slim chance of finding a normal job, because everyone knew who I was associated with. Why would anyone risk taking on someone who was involved with the Peaky Blinders? I was paid more than I should have been for my position, and they trusted me with anything; it would be stupid of me to throw that away and lose everything I worked so hard for.

Surprisingly, Esme hadn’t piped up towards me in that time. I thought she might say something, even if she wasn’t triggered, due to her fiery personality. However, John had been relentless with his attempts to make me speak to him, even trying to trap me in the vault with him. I couldn’t break, I couldn’t let him get to me again. As much as my heart ached for him, as much as I wanted him to grab my face and kiss me again, I would never break a marriage. The guilt that would live with me fr the rest of my life was too much to bear.

At the beginning of another day, I had just breezed into the shop when Lizzie approached me.“(Y/N), Tommy wants to see you.”

I sighed.“Did he say why?”

She shook her head.“You know what he’s like. But he’s asking for you now.”

I didn’t bother taking off my coat or setting my bag down, following Lizzie to his office. She knocked before opening the door, letting me walk in before closing it behind me, and I was left with Tommy, who was hunched over his desk as he looked through papers; however, there was also another man, a younger man.

“Come in (Y/N), let me introduce you to someone.” Tommy stood, setting the papers aside.

My steps were slower than they usually would be as I analysed the stranger. He looked younger than me, but not by that many years. His hat was in his hands, and although he wore a suit, it wasn’t like the ones the Shelby boys wore. His hair was slightly curly, not slicked back or short like most men around Small Heath, and he seemed shy, maybe more reclusive.

“I’m Michael.” he offered his hand out which I shook.

“I’m (Y/N).” I politely smiled.

“(Y/N) is basically family and has worked with us from the beginning.” Tommy explained.“This boy here, (Y/N), is Polly’s son.”

My eyes widened at Tommy as I let go of Michael’s hand.“Wait, you mean...the children she was always talking about...?”

“I’ve come back to find out about my real family. And to start working here too.” Michael added.

“So I need you to keep a close eye on him, help him with whatever he needs. (Y/N) knows the ins and outs of this place, she’ll teach you everything you need to know.”

For the rest of the day, Michael shadowed one of the workers that dealt with the winnings, counting money and figuring out how to run the shop floor. I would occasionally pop up when I thought he needed someone kinder and quiet to help, or just to check on him. He was sweet, but that wouldn’t help him in this environment. Luckily, Michael made it hard for John to bother me, he didn’t have the usual opportunities to bombard me with questions about why I didn’t want to fight for what we had. My shift finished quickly, it seemed like I had only been there an hour and we were already leaving.

“Come on Michael, let me take you for a drink. You deserve it after today.” I offered as we walked out of the shop.

He was hesitant before smiling.“Alright then. Where should we go?”

“We’ll go to the Garrison, your cousins are basically royalty there, meaning we are too. And don’t worry about your mum, she would rather you be with me than with the boys.”

Happily greeting Harry as we walked into the pub, he nudged the other bartender to get my usual drink. After asking Michael what he wanted, I called it out to Harry before disappearing into the private room.

“We’re allowed in here?” Michael asked.

“Yeah, don’t worry. Like Tommy said, I’m family.” the window opened, a bartender passing us our drinks.“So, how did you end up in a place like this?”

We indulged in a conversation about Michael’s life growing up. It wasn’t a good upbringing, he had been through a lot of hardships as a child, and now being thrown into a completely different life was only adding to the confusion he had growing up, but he wanted to be independent. Get away from the boring country and work in an interesting job.

Michael glanced down at his drink, seeming hesitant to speak.“I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is there something between you and John? I thought he was married to Esme.”

I scoffed.“He is. Seems to keep forgetting that.”

“Sorry, I shouldn't have asked-”

“It’s fine. You’re family, you should know what’s going on. We...wow, I’ve never actually spoken about this. John and I developed feelings for each other as we grew up, we became a couple. We always said we would get married, anyone could see we were deeply in love. However, Tommy arranged a marriage between John and Esme, it was to form a truce between the Shelby’s and the Lee family, Esme’s family.”

“That’s horrible. Tommy still did that even though he knew you two were together?”

“Yep.” I downed the rest of my drink.“Welcome to the family business.”

“I understand the need for a truce but...”

“I know what you’re thinking. Although it was heartbreaking, I know nothing can be done about it. And I am not a home wrecker!”

He was shocked by my snappy tone.“I-I didn’t say you were.”

“I know, force of habit.”

The door opened, the Shelby brothers walking in, and only three of them smiled at us, it was obvious who didn’t. They greeted us as they sat, the window opening instantly with their drinks on the tray. Michael and I were still tense from our talk, though tried not to show it as Arthur began rambling on about something stupid Finn had done that day. I tried my hardest to listen, though it was hard to when I could feel John’s eyes on me, and he was angry. Everyone else could tell as well, but they didn’t want to deal with John’s attitude right now. After Arthur finished his story, I excused myself to the ladies room, needing to relax. Unfortunately, I couldn’t even go to the loo without any disruption.

“Why the fuck are you here with him?” John demanded to know as he followed me in.

“John! You can’t be in here!” I snapped.

“There’s no other women here yet! Answer me.”

“He’s a new colleague, someone Tommy told me to look after today. Not to mention he’s your cousin. I was being nice to him.”

“You say you still love me yet here you are with another man.” the rage in his eyes was growing more intense by the second.

“Oh for fucks sake John.” I rolled my eyes.“Why on Earth why I be so stupid to move on with another Shelby?”

“The fuck are you saying?”

“I’ve been battling with myself whether to leave this job because of you! It was terrible enough to be in the same room as you and your wife, but trying to avoid you all day is exhausting. You have to stop trying to make us work.”

His breathing was getting faster, and he hastily grabbed my hands.“But why can’t we just hide it? Maybe after a while I’ll be able to divorce her.”

“I can’t sit around and wait for you! I’ll always love you John, but you can’t expect me to not go on living my life whilst I wait for something that may never happen. And you’re telling me that in that time, you won’t have sex with her, you won’t give her the children she wants? Because I’m not fucking you behind her back.”

He groaned, pulling away from me and turning around, suddenly hitting a stall door, causing me to flinch at the movement and sound. Instinctively, I started backing away, scared that he might flip and accidentally hurt me in his rage.

“It’s not fucking fair!” he yelled.

“John, calm down!” I said, trying not to shout back, needing him to be calm.

“Why was I the one that had to get married?! Why wasn’t it Arthur or even Finn? They know we’re in love! I wanted you to be my fucking wife! And now you’re not even fighting for us!”

I scowled at him, screaming just as loud at him now.“How dare you?! John, there is nothing to fight for anymore! Yes, we still love each other, and I would give anything to be with you again! I would kill for you, you know that. But we need to move on from this. I’m staying at work for now, just until I’ve got enough to move somewhere else, and then I’m gone. I’m not staying where I got my heart broken.”

“You can’t leave.”

“I will. This feels like someone is punishing me for something terrible that I’ve done, but for the life of me I can not think what that could be. I’m done with this John. I don’t want to wake up every morning dreading to go to the shop, being distracted from my work because I’m dreading that you’ll corner me and we’ll get caught doing something we shouldn’t be. I feel like I’ve aged since the day you married, just from the stress.”

“(Y/N), please, just give it more time, we can work something out-”

“No! John just shut the fuck up and listen to what I’m saying! Leave me alone, leave what we had in the past. You’re married now, and I don’t want to have an affair, not just because of the Lee’s but because of the moral of it all. I...I just need to go home.”

“You’re not leaving-”

He grabbed my arm forcefully, and in defence I slapped him around the face. He recoiled his hand as he went into shock, giving me a chance to escape. However, he kept calling my name as I rushed off, seeing the boys standing at the bar, obviously having heard everything. I pushed past them, bursting into the private room to grab my things before leaving the pub. The others were also telling me to come back, wondering what was wrong.

“Don’t follow me! Leave me alone!” I screeched before turning away from them.

I felt light headed as I stormed home. There was so much to take in, too much had been said in such a short amount of time. Though I knew I had spoken my truth, even if it was the hardest thing I had ever admitted. John and I couldn’t be. Perhaps it was never meant to happen, and we needed to grow up, move on from our childhood dreams of us being together. I couldn’t dwell on it, I was right when I said I couldn’t put my life on pause to wait for him, which I knew would never happen. Until I knew what I could do to move on and away from everyone, I hoped that our argument had sent a message to John, and I wouldn’t have to suffer as much as I had been. Not for much longer, I am going to be happy.

#john shelby #john shelby imagine #john shelby imagines #john shelby one shot #john shelby x reader #peaky blinders #peaky blinders bbc #bbc peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fan fic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fan fiction

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ethanesimp · 3 years

Text

WHEN YOU’RE GONE // D.D.

Pairing: Mob Boss! Damiano David x Mob GN! Reader (it was originally written with a fem! reader so please let me know if you spot any slip ups on my part)

Summary: Soulmates are already a difficult concept to grasp and things don’t seem to get any easier when you like a person who already has a soulmate.

Word Count: 9.8k (it’s so long lakjd)

Warnings: Swearing, death and mentions of it, injuries, angst -lots of it-, it’s a mob fic so violence, smoking, Damiano being kind of an asshole? Me probably using swear words in italian wrong... Just read with caution pls

Masterlist // Taglist link in bio

A/N: If you’ve seen this before, it’s probably because this has been written and posted on my other blog @pparkersbitch as a Tom Holland fanfiction at the beginning of the year (which has now been deleted). It’s the same person and I’m not stealing anyone’s work :) I just like it and wanted to bring it back. I did add/modify some tiny details though. The idea is probably dumb, but I’m sharing anyways.

Taglist: @gretavanfleetlove @superchrystaldrug @reputationdamiano

“This isn’t how I wanted to start my morning,” Your best friend mumbled in a tired voice. You could barely hear him from where you were standing over the sounds the old -and surely broken- coffee machine kept making and the music playing from his phone.

“Well, sucks to be us, huh?” You chuckled and poured coffee on both of your cups as you did a small dance to try and shake the tiredness off your body. You handed Damiano his cup after preparing his coffee the way he liked it, a teaspoon of sugar with a splash of milk, and walked with him to the large office down the hall, “I don’t get why Ethan and Thomas can’t do this instead of us.”

The room was always cold and you seemed to forget about it most of the time since it still slipped your mind to wear a sweater or hoodie over your thin pajama shirt. You grabbed one of the blankets from the small black couch on the corner of the room and wrapped it around your body as best as you could with your free hand.

You sat down on the chair next to him to have a better look at all the papers and files he had spread out on the desk, “What exactly are we looking for?” You asked with furrowed eyebrows. All those documents were enough to keep you occupied for the whole day if you didn’t work fast enough.

“We are looking for any leads to the drug cartel or its leader. Really anything that can help us find them,” Damiano explained and took a sip of his coffee as he opened the first file.

You had been trying to track a drug cartel ever since they infiltrated your warehouse and stole some of your products. Damiano’s father had been at both of your necks ever since it happened as if it had been your fault instead of the incompetent guards that were supposed to be guarding the entrance at all times, “I’m sure these are people we’ve made deals with in the past, they wouldn’t have been able to break in otherwise. We’ve always been far too careful for this to be a mere coincidence.”

He removed the gold ring from his ring finger and left it on the jewelry bowl you had placed on his desk. You had known Damiano David and his family for years. For as long as you had known him, the band on his ring finger had been gold, and you hated it.

That stupid little gold band was a silent reminder that he had met his soulmate and there was nothing to be done about it. For months you had silently hoped and prayed for Damiano to be your soulmate, but any illusion or wish you had of it happening, had vanished the moment you saw the gold ring on his finger for the first time. You later discovered he avoided wearing it on his hand because it put his soulmate at risk of being found, but he still kept it close to him at all times by using it as a necklace.

You avoided wearing yours for an entirely different reason. The black ring and all the stares and words of pity that came with it were saddening and something you didn’t need. While gold was a reminder of love and good luck, black was a reminder that your soulmate was no longer alive and you were doomed to spend the rest of your life alone. You were sure the band had been black for most of your life, or at least that’s how you remembered it.

It was safe to say you were jealous of Damiano’s soulmate, Marlee. Not only was she one of the most beautiful women you had ever met, but she got to have perhaps the most amazing man by her side until her dying day, something you could never have in any way that wasn’t platonic.

You successfully ignored it most days, which wasn’t so hard to do since you had better things to think about most of the time, but nights were always the hardest. In your loud and chaotic life, there was a speck in time where everything quieted and calmed down. During those few hours was when you’d break down and grieve for the person whose name you didn’t even get to know. You’d cry for being stupid enough to fall for someone who wasn’t only your best friend, but who also had a girlfriend.

“Damiano, Y/N?” Marlee’s sweet voice interrupted your train of thoughts. You had been reading the files consciously enough to notice anything unusual, but you had paid no mind to anything else until she walked into the room. You smiled politely at her and waved.

She walked up to Damiano and he immediately closed all files with any sort of photo that might be too graphic for her to look at. Marlee cupped his face and pressed her lips to his for a few moments that felt like an eternity to you, watching everything from the side as a feeling of jealousy invaded your senses. You did nothing but look at the painting on the wall until they stopped locking lips, which took a bit longer than you would’ve liked.

“Did you two find anything?” Marlee asked once she pulled away from Damiano. He gave her a look you knew as ‘I cannot tell you anything about the mob to keep you safe’. She had been involved with the mob’s administration for most of her life, only after she met Damiano and her father united his mob with Damiano’s did she stop working.

You had been brought in as a replacement of sorts once Marlee stopped doing any mob business per Damiano’s request. His parents had saved yours from a legal accident, which left you in debt with his family, so you didn’t have much say on whether you’d join the mob or not.

Something you were grateful for was that Damiano always kept your hands clean. No matter what business it was, he made sure to keep you out of any sort of situation in which you’d have to hurt or get hurt by another member of the mob. Most people that worked for Damiano didn’t have the pleasure of knowing him as the lenient and caring individual he was around you.

You excused yourself after spending a few more minutes flipping through the files in search of something but ultimately found nothing. It was supposed to be your free day, or at least that was what Damiano had promised. Apart from that impromptu search for information at 5 am, he promised he’d have Ethan, Vic, or Thomas help with anything he needed.

That was why you took the liberty to lock yourself inside your room and put your phone on silent. You desperately wanted to catch up on all the hours of sleep you had lost in between those early morning duty calls and coffee runs. No matter how much you enjoyed spending time with Damiano, you still missed your normal sleep schedule.

When you woke up a few hours later, the house was completely silent. The usual chatter coming from the kitchen wasn’t there, neither was the noise of Vic repeatedly firing bullets at the targets in the garden to practice her aim like she did every morning or the soft sound of Thomas softly strumming his guitar as he tried to piece an unplanned melody together with the assistance of Ethan’s drumming.

It wasn’t a Sunday, which meant they weren’t away visiting their families. They were all supposed to be home. That last thought made you nervous and you couldn’t help but wonder if something had happened while you were asleep. Being in the mob, you knew a lot of unexpected things happened all the time and you had to be prepared for them all.

You walked to the door, determined to investigate what was wrong. Your hand was already firmly grasping the doorknob and you were about to undo the lock when someone knocked harshly on the door, startling you.

Without hesitation, you jumped back and reached for the gun stuffed in one of the drawers nearby, “Y/N? You awake?”

You let go of the drawer’s handle and your tense body relaxed at the sound of Victoria’s raspy voice, “Fuck, Vic, you scared me,” You spoke as you opened the door to be met with her panicked blue eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed at her worried expression, but before you could ask, she grabbed you by the arm softly and dragged you out of the room.

Once you were in the hallway, you finally heard everything with a lot more clarity. The faint sound of glass clinking before falling to the floor, Thomas’s exasperated shouts, and Damiano’s complaints. You looked at Victoria, expecting an explanation.

“I don’t know what happened,” She began, “One second he was alright, then at like 9 AM Ethan and I heard them fighting. She’s gone and Damiano’s locked in his room, won’t let anyone in. Thomas is trying to get him to talk while Ethan looks for the keys.”

You walked past Victoria and ran up the stairs. Damiano’s room was right above yours. Upon walking up to the third floor of the house, you saw Thomas repeatedly knocking on Damiano’s door. Once he heard footsteps and spotted you, it was like relief washed all over him at the sight of you.

“Do you mind trying?” He asked, “He’s been asking for you,” Thomas added with a sigh as he brushed his messy hair out of his forehead. You nodded and got closer to the door once he got out of the way.

With hesitation, you knocked on the door and patiently waited for a response, which arrived only after you knocked once again, “Vaffanculo, Thomas! Which part of your tiny fucking brain cannot understand that I want to be left alone?”

You flinched at his words and took a long breath as you gathered the confidence to speak up, “I-It’s Y/N, Dami,” You said, loud enough for him to hear you from where he was. You were expecting rejection; if Damiano didn’t want to talk to people who were as close to him as siblings, why would he talk to you? Sure, you were one of his best friends, but he’d known Thomas for longer than he—

Your thoughts were interrupted when Damiano opened the door and quickly dragged you in before slamming it shut once more. For the first few minutes, you stood in silence while Damiano faced the door. You couldn’t see his face or his eyes, so you had no idea what could be going through his mind, so you focused on your surroundings instead.

The room was a mess, but not more than it usually was. What alarmed you was the shattered glass on the floor as well as the drops of blood that stained the white floor. You looked back at your best friend and noticed that it was dripping from his hand.

“Damiano,” You called, “Amore, your hand,” He turned to look at you and that’s when you finally saw his red and swollen eyes as well his tear-stained cheeks. His gaze softened once his eyes fell on yours. He choked back a sob and turned away from you once again.

If his hand hadn’t been bleeding, you wouldn’t have hesitated on wrapping your arms around his neck and trying to comfort him. Instead, you ran to his bathroom to grab the first-aid kit. After years of being in the business, treating Damiano’s cuts and injuries wasn’t anything new to you, but you were oblivious as to why he was in such a state in the first place.

Being the person he was, Damiano had learned to conceal his emotions incredibly well to protect himself, even around the people he trusted the most. You had only seen him that shaken once when something had gone terribly wrong. The fact that Marlee was gone too only gave you a worse feeling. The fact that her clothes were all gone from the closet didn’t ease your worried mind either.

Damiano was sitting on the bed patiently waiting for you to return. Once you did, he avoided your gaze and said nothing as you examined his hand. The cuts were all superficial and would surely cure on their own in a few days, which was why you only focused on removing the tiny shards of glass that had stuck to his skin with a pair of tweezers.

Once that was done and you had cleaned the cuts, you wrapped a bandage around his hand once and secured it with a small piece of tape. You sat in silence for a while, you didn’t comment on the sobs that would escape his lips every once in a while or the tears that had started falling down his cheeks.

Instead, you waited until he was ready to say something, “I don’t even know how to tell you this,” Damiano mumbled. His eyes stayed glued to the floor. He seemed… embarrassed to look you in the eye.

“I was finally going to do it this morning, N/N,” He said as a sigh escaped past his lips and he took a small velvet box out of his pocket. He didn’t have to say what was inside the box because you knew exactly what it was. Damiano had been planning on proposing for months, but there was always something that managed to get in the way of completing his goal.

“She went to the bathroom and had left her phone on my bedside table. I was going to get the ring and Y/N… I-I swear to God I didn’t want to look but the messages kept coming, one after the other, the fucking phone wouldn’t stop making noise. Cazzo, she was the one feeding information to the drug cartel and Lord knows to who else,” He said those words in one breath and you had barely been able to catch them all. Damiano threw the box at the wall angrily and from the noise, you didn’t doubt there’d be an indent there.

“I asked her about it and you have no idea how much I wished she’d deny it, but she didn’t even try,” Damiano cried. Unexpectedly, Damiano turned his body around to face yours and wrapped his arms around your waist while he buried his face on your neck.

It took you by surprise, but you said nothing. Instead, you focused on rubbing circles on his back and whispering soothing words into his ear. Part of you knew there was something else going on, even if you didn’t ask. You hadn’t seen Damiano cry in a long time and even then you saw nothing more than just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. What happened with Marlee had truly driven him right to the edge and he couldn’t keep in everything he had been trying so hard to hide.

In the four months that followed, you didn’t see Marlee once. She never had the guts to return after Damiano found out about everything she had been doing behind his back. At first, he had been utterly destroyed by her absence, it pained you to see him shut everything and everyone out with the lame excuse that he had work to do. Every single time he did so, you’d quietly sit down and help him despite his complaints.

He got better though. Once enough time passed, he healed, but all that love he had once felt for her was now nothing more than pure hatred every single time her name was mentioned. You knew better than anyone that it wasn’t the healthiest thing to do, but it didn’t matter how many times you told him so because it never truly changed much.

As for the mob, things seemed to calm down once Damiano and Ethan were able to track down the leader of the drug cartel and get the stolen products back. Everything was too good and too quiet. While your four friends enjoyed all that peace, you couldn’t help but worry about something being wrong. It was a silly thing anyway, there was nothing that gave you even the slightest confirmation that your worry wasn’t just fueled by paranoia, not a single thing.

You should’ve been grateful instead. Your sleep schedule had gotten acceptably regular and there was no more working from 5 am to 10 pm every single day. You also had time to finally sit down and read the books that had been sitting on your untouched shelf ever since the start of the year, just like you were doing at that very moment while the boys were playing poker in the basement and Vic was on a date.

Damiano walked into your room eventually, still smelling like the cigarette he had just been smoking minutes back. He couldn’t help but scrunch up his nose as the smell of lemon incense burning hit his nostrils.

You looked up and giggled at his disgusted expression, “You cannot be disgusted when you were the one who walked into my room smelling like cigar and beer,” Damiano rolled his eyes and plopped down on the bed next to you.

“Incense is bad for you,” You shot Damiano a killer look and closed your book. He gave you a funny look back and then put his attention on your book, “What are you reading anyway?”

You hummed and showed him the cover. It had a beautiful yet simple design, which accurately represented the story hidden in between those pages, “Okay so, it’s the story of these people that all get invited to this island. They’re all summoned there for different reasons but it turns out they all have this common enemy. It’s terrifying because they get killed off one by one when a children’s lullaby plays. I truly cannot explain it enough to do justice to how intense this book is.”

“Oh and before that I got to read the most wonderful romance book! It was apparently the first book written where soulmates weren’t a thing and it was just a piece of art. Beautifully written, made me cry for hours too.”

Damiano smiled and you could almost see all the gears turning inside his brain, “Wouldn’t it be amazing?”

“What would?”

He shrugged and propped himself up on his elbows to get a better look at you, “A world without soulmates, where you’re not bound to someone since birth.”

You sighed and turned to look at him, “It’s our own fault… being bound, I mean. No angel from the heavens came down to tell us we have to love our soulmate as anything more than a close friend, you know? It can be purely platonic, we’re just stupid.”

“Were you ever able to fall in love with your soulmate or was it just platonic?” Damiano asked. You never talked much about soulmates with him. He still didn’t know your soulmate had been dead for as long as you could remember.

“I never got to know them,” You smiled sadly and showed him the black ring you had gotten used to wearing around your neck, carefully tucked under your shirt to stay unseen. His mouth fell open as he grabbed the ring and inspected it closely. It was the first time he had seen a black ring.

“I didn’t know… I’m sorry,” Damiano let the ring go. You shrugged and waved your hand to silently show it wasn’t too important, “I thought you guys were separated or something.”

You shook your head, “Mom says the ring turned black when I was six, but I don’t really remember so I just like to pretend I never had one in the first place… I don’t know.”

There was a question on the tip of your tongue, but you didn’t want to ask it, as intrigued as you were to know the answer. You hadn’t talked about her ever since she left and he’d most likely avoid the question because he truly wanted to keep her name out of his mouth. Nonetheless, he noticed your hesitance because you suddenly got too silent.

“You can ask, you know? I know I just touched on a sensitive topic, so…” You nodded. Both of you were lying on your backs, looking up at the ceiling which had some of those glow-in-the-dark stars and planets you had glued when you first moved in to feel less lonely.

You hummed softly as you tried to find the right words. You didn’t want to be too straightforward with your question in fear of upsetting your best friend even though he had asked you the same question minutes earlier, “Did-did you ever… you know, fall in love with her?”

Damiano thought about it in silence, you had probably caught him off-guard with your question, “No, not really. Not in the way I was expecting at least. You know truth be told, I was a bit disappointed. Don’t get me wrong, she had this angelic look to her, she was a stunning girl. I just- there was nothing we had in common other than being soulmates. For years I had seen my parents act like they shared one mind and just thought the same things. I always imagined it’d be like that for me too.

“My expectations couldn’t have been further from what it truly was like. Honestly, I’m not even sure which part of our relationship was true anymore. Now that I look back on it, I’ve realized most of the things she did or said were just to get information out of me.”

It was weird to hear him say all that. As a person who always got to look at the way Marlee and Damiano interacted with one another, you would’ve never expected Damiano to feel that way, “And,” He continued, “I was expecting it to be someone else.”

His last confession made you turn around to look at him. It was the first time he had admitted that, probably because of the beer he had been drinking while playing with his friends.

“I know it sounds terrible but… I met her and this other person on the same day, almost at the same time. I didn’t notice my ring had turned gold until much later. I had only been with them both and people I already knew. I thought it had been the other person until she told me her ring had changed too. Meanwhile, the other one said nothing. Now I realize it would’ve been impossible for them to be my soulmate.”

It might’ve been because he was telling you all those things and you felt safe to admit what you felt, or maybe because you were tired of bottling it up for so long. Either way, you spoke up, not caring if you’d regret it later, “It’s not as terrible as you might think.”

“Look, I’m not bound to anyone. The black ring gives me the freedom of loving someone else. I never met my soulmate so there’s no guilt in being with someone else. It’s supposed to be a perfect thing, Dami, only it isn’t. I know a lot of people who’re also blacksouled,” You hated using the word. It was usually how people would refer to those who didn’t have a soulmate anymore, “And I fell in love.”

“T-that’s great!” Damiano replied, “Why didn’t you tell me? I mean, not like you’re obliged to tell me anything just because we’re friends but I-”

You interrupted his rant, “I fell in love with someone whose soulmate’s still alive.”

“So what? You said it yourself. Are they together?” He asked. You told him they weren’t. If only he knew you were talking about him… He’d probably run away and never speak to you again, “Then fuck it. Fuck the rules and everything else society has to say.”

“It’s not that simple, Dami. I truly wish it was, but it isn’t,” You wanted nothing more than for the conversation to be over. If it went any further, you knew you’d spill every single thing. It had gotten far too hard to conceal your feelings when you were close to him. Now that you were talking about them, it’d be even harder.

You got up and walked to your bookshelf, where you started accommodating your books as an excuse to avoid being so close to him, to avoid his curious gaze. Even if they weren’t together anymore, you knew Damiano would reject you, that was far too obvious. Even if he felt the same, after what happened, it’d take Damiano a lot of effort to ever trust someone in such an intimate way, even if that someone was you, his best friend.

“Why? It is that simple. If they’re not together, what’s stopping you? You’ll never know what could happen if you don’t try,” You turned around to look at him, fists clenched by your sides, “Listen Y/N, I know you’re scared of relationships and everything they involve but you cannot let that sto—”

“Fine then, I’m in love with you! I can barely breathe when I’m around you because my love for you is so suffocatingly strong, and I can’t think straight either! You and your stupidly handsome face drive me insane. How’s that?” You admitted, interrupting his small speech midway, too irritated to process what you had just said. Once you did, your hand flew to your mouth and you shook your head. You wanted to say it wasn’t true, no, it was nothing more than a lie to get him to stop poking his nose into your love life. Except it wasn’t and, if you were being honest, no part of you wanted to hide it anymore.

Just like you expected, he said nothing. Damiano stayed silent for a few seconds before getting up and walking out without another word. He slammed the door on the way out so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if the door separated from its hinges.

For the weeks that followed, Damiano avoided you as much as possible. You were still his right-hand person and needed to be present at every meeting and would have to discuss any type of business with him. It used to be your favorite part of the day when you got to sit in the meeting room with Damiano and discuss plans to make the mob prosper, now it was nothing but uncomfortable because you’d do all the talking while he looked at you as if his biggest desire was to carve your heart out with his pocket knife.

While you understood that he was still mad at Marlee and wanted nothing to do with her, you didn’t understand why he was treating you that way when you had nothing to do with it and weren’t to blame for the stupid shit his ex had tried to pull. You thought he knew that you loved him far too much to ever do anything to jeopardize his safety. Yet again, he might’ve assumed the same thing about Marlee.

You walked out of yet another unsuccessful meeting with Damiano and slammed the door as hard as you could to let him know how much his childish behavior annoyed you. Ethan was standing close to the door and you could see the shadow of a smile that was threatening to break out and illuminate his face, “Don’t you dare,” He raised his hands in defense and bit his lip to try and hide the smile that would just annoy you further.

“You two are starting to act like two teenagers and it’s fucking pathetic,” Thomas chimed in from where he was sitting on one of the couches.

“Yeah? Tell that to your friend who is giving me the silent treatment like a fucking toddler! I just want- I need to have a serious conversation with him,” You admitted and sighed as you fell on the couch right next to Thomas, head in your hands to try and cover up the tears that were threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Both men stayed silent as they watched you, Even though you could feel their stares, you decided to focus on not crying instead. The truth was, the longer Damiano spent ignoring you, the more you regretted telling him what you had been bottling up for years, it had been a mistake there was no coming back from. Unless he decided to stop acting like a kindergartener, things would never go back to the way they were.

It was frustrating to think that your friendship would go to shit just because of your confession. Being rejected by him wouldn’t have been a big deal if he had actually stayed in your room and spoken like the adult he was.

“For the record, I think he’s acting like an idiot because he’s scared,” Sighed Victoria, who had just walked into the room with an ice pack placed over her hand, “I know it’s been a while but, give him time. He’ll come around or I’ll make him, I promise.”

You gave Victoria a tight-lipped smile and nodded. You hoped more than anything that it wouldn’t have to come to getting locked up in the same room as Damiano to get him to speak to you.

Except… as more days passed, you feared it would most likely have to be that way because he was still saying nothing to you. He had only spoken once and it had been to call you out for being doing everything wrong while looking through some important documents when you were, in fact, doing everything just like he had initially requested. Now, not only had he been giving you the cold shoulder, but he had started acting like a complete jerk around you too.

You tried to distract yourself by focusing on all the work you had pending, but it wasn’t working. Every single day, no matter what you were doing, your mind still wandered back to the brown-eyed man and his stupid face, his stupid hair, and stupid smile.

Even as you stood in the middle of the kitchen, your thoughts made it difficult to bake the cookies you had been craving all week. You had started to work on the second batch after the first one came out disgustingly salty because somewhere along the process you had mistaken the salt for the sugar.

You hated how bothered you were by the whole situation. It had affected you way more than you would’ve liked to admit. Truth be told, you had never felt sad about his rejection because it was something you had expected ever since that attraction for him first settled on your brain. It was the way he was treating you that got on your nerves.

That was mainly the reason why you were so thankful for being alone in the house at that very moment. Apart from a few security guards here and there, you were completely alone. You allowed yourself to relax for a split second and connected your phone to the speaker system in the kitchen. You started playing one of your favorite playlists before getting back to making cookies the right way this time.

You softly swayed your body along to the music as you dumped all the ingredients on the large bowl in front of you. As you poured the flour in the bowl and mixed it with your hands, you noticed Damiano standing by the door. For some unknown reason, he scared you so bad you accidentally tipped the bowl and made a mess of the counter.

A frustrated sigh escaped past your lips and you threw your head back, feeling defeated and irritated, “I’m sorry,” Damiano spoke up hesitantly, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

You shook your head and wiped your hands on the apron you had tied around your waist, “It’s fine,” You turned around so your back was to him and started wiping the counter with a damp towel.

“You deserve so much better…” You heard him speak up over the music. His words caught you by surprise. You turned around to look at him but said nothing. You could tell he was nervous by the way his hands trembled by his sides and the way his jaw was firmly clenched.

After a few minutes of hesitation, Damiano started walking to where you were. He placed his hands on the counter by your sides, leaving you trapped in between the counter and his body. You looked into his dark eyes to maybe try and guess what was going through his mind.

You breathed in so deeply your chest hit his. You gulped at that and tried to control your trembling hands without looking away.

“What you said the other day, did you mean it?” Damiano asked, without hesitation this time around. Your eyes widened.

“I-I… What?”

“Just answer me Y/N, please,” Damiano pleaded. He looked so desperate to know the answer, which only made your blood boil. After weeks of silence, of glares and being a jerk, he dared to just show up and demand answers?

You shook your head and pointed your finger at his chest, “How dare you?” You took a step towards him, which made Damiano take a step back, “You have no right to show up like this and ask me to give you answers after how much of an asshole you’ve been.”

He seemed taken aback by your truthful words, but you didn’t care. If he wanted to know how much truth had been behind your words that night, he’d have to hear it all, “You know I’m your best friend and you also know I’d keep up with anything you do because that’s how much I care about you, but can you stop it? I know I was stupid for telling you because of what you just went through and I’m sorry, but please don’t keep giving me the cold shoulder. I just want to fix this.”

After a few minutes of silence, you shrugged and, like it was the simplest thing in the world, spoke up, “And yeah, I meant every word.”

Your expression softened as you waited for any sort of reaction from Damiano. You expected something similar to what had happened the day you first told him. No part of you expected him to cup your face with his warm, calloused palms to bring your face closer to him once again.

Neither did you expect to feel his soft lips pressed against yours, or the feeling of his soft hair as you brushed it back with your fingers and your eyes slowly closing as you basked on the joy and pleasure his soft touches caused.

Damiano was gentle as he held your face in between his hands, almost as if you were made of glass and he was afraid of breaking you into pieces if he didn’t hold you delicately enough. That kiss felt so intimate, like nothing you had ever felt before. Everything from the way he held you to his slow movements and touches was so much better than you could’ve ever imagined.

When he pulled away, he left you completely breathless, wordless. There was nothing you could possibly say after the way he had kissed you, so you waited for him to find the right words instead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” Damiano mumbled. He still hadn’t let go of your face, “You truly deserve better. You are so beautiful, so perfect. I’m so sorry for being such an idiot and hurting you, ignoring you. I just- I know I cannot love you as you deserve. Believe me, I want nothing more than to have you close to me all the time, to kiss your lips until you grow sick of me, but I can’t,” His voice was starting to crack as he said those words to you and you knew it was because of how he saw your face fall.

“No, no, shut up and listen to me,” You pleaded and placed your hands on top of his. You gave them a soft squeeze and let your forehead rest against his, “I know it’s hard for you to trust after what happened with her and I know it’s not going to be easy, but believe me, I’m willing to try if you are, Damiano.”

“You were that other person,” He confessed and got closer to kiss you once more, with as much passion as the last time. You were too concentrated on the smell of his musky cologne and the faint taste of vanilla chapstick he had surely stolen from your room to respond to his comment.

His hands fell from your face and comfortably rested on your hips as his lips attacked yours. Damiano pushed you against the counter and kept savoring the moment as if it were the first and last time he’d kiss you like that. You hoped for your sake it wouldn’t be the last.

Damiano pulled away reluctantly and unexpectedly lifted you up so you’d sit on the counter. He stood in between your legs and intertwined his fingers with yours.

“Remember when I told you about the person I met the day I met Marlee?” You nodded, “That was you... Ever since I met you I’ve felt this inexplicable attraction towards you and it’s been driving me insane. I couldn’t believe it when you told me you loved me because I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”

“You’ve done so much to deserve it, so so much,” You mumbled and brought him close to you to kiss him for the third time. It was such an addicting feeling and both your heart and mind were screaming to feel it again.

That time around, Damiano didn’t hesitate to lift you up once more, he carried you to his room and locked the door.

—

It had been a few weeks since your conversation in the kitchen. Things returned back to normal after that night. Other than your relationship with Damiano, things were the same again. You had to go back to working at ungodly hours of the morning thanks to some suspicious activity Ethan had noticed. Apparently, one of the oldest members of Damiano’s mob had tried to establish a deal with an unknown subject but had been caught before he could accomplish it.

This put you both on edge because there was someone out there desperate to break into the mob and finish it for good. At first, you thought it wasn’t more serious than whatever had happened with Marlee, but Damiano’s father proved you wrong the moment he brought you, their most loyal employee, in for questioning.

It had been nothing too serious, at least not in comparison to what you had heard others say. In your case, it had been done mostly as a standardized protocol, to stop others from thinking there was some sort of preference or special treatment towards you just because you worked so close to Damiano. You knew almost everything Damiano did, so you were possibly the greatest source of information outside the David family and their small circle of friends.

“Amore?” Damiano asked softly as his hand caressed the exposed skin of your waist. You had been cuddling in bed for almost two hours with the excuse that you needed a break after all the hard work you’d done, “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You turned around to be face to face with him and pressed a kiss to his freckled nose, “Not much. I was just remembering I need to get my ring resized again. I tried putting it on a few days ago and it didn’t fit anymore.

Damiano frowned at your words, “Your soulmate ring?”

“Mhm,” You responded simply and let your head rest on his chest. You enjoyed the feeling of warmth his body irradiated, it was soothing and the soft sound of his rhythmic heartbeat never failed to make you feel calmer.

“Soulmate rings don’t need to be resized, ever. Not that I know of, at least,” Now it was your turn to frown because, as far as you remembered, you had always gone to get your ring resized by a family friend who didn’t live too far away. No one had ever told you it wasn’t necessary.

You pulled away from his embrace and reached for the bedside table where you had been keeping the ring for the past few days. Once you turned back around, Damiano looked confused and almost scared, “Just, out of curiosity, tesoro. Have you ever taken off the ring and left it like far away for longer than a few hours?”

A giggle escaped past your lips at his silly question, “It’s just a piece of jewelry, Dami. Of course, I have, several times.”

You laughed nervously once you saw his horrified expression. Damiano was starting to scare you, but you knew better than to say something because you’d end up looking like a fool if he started laughing and told you it was all a joke. Except, it didn’t seem like one.

“Please get dressed and meet me in room five, okay? I might be going insane but I just need to make sure I’m not,” Before you could ask any questions, Damiano had already grabbed a pair of pants and a t-shirt and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

You tried not to think much about his weird questions and got dressed quickly instead. You grabbed your cup of tea, which had already gone cold, and walked to meeting room five.

You opened the door and were surprised to see all your friends already sitting around the small table you’d use for informal meetings. Thomas and Victoria looked tired and Ethan’s long hair was tangled and messy. That gave you the impression that Damiano had most likely woken them all up for your impromptu meeting.

They all looked just as confused as you felt. There were a lot of questions you wanted to ask, but Ethan beat you to it, “Okay, now that we’re all here can you fucking explain why you had to wake me up? Please.”

“Have any of you three—,” Started Damiano, referring to Thomas, Victoria and Ethan, “—tried to take off your ring for a while but have started feeling sick and weird?”

Thomas and Victoria looked at each other, confused, but nodded. Ethan did after a few seconds of thinking about it, “Yeah, there was actually this one time I went on a date and I didn’t want the girl to see the ring had turned gold, so I left it at home. Thirty minutes later I was puking everywhere. I didn’t really understand why but someone at the Soulmate Centre explained rings are an extension of the soul and they need to be close to us at all times and there are actually records of people dying after losing their rings. Why?”

Damiano looked at you and raised his eyebrows to silently ask if he could share the information with the other three guys. Once you nodded, Damiano spoke up, “Y/N doesn’t need to have it close to them and they need to get it resized every once in a while.”

Ethan shrugged his shoulders, “That’s as far as my knowledge goes. I don’t know. I think the best thing you can do is go to the SC.”

You sighed but nodded. Ethan’s explanation had started to freak you out. What if there was something terribly wrong with you? What if you were born without a ring and your parents lied to you all your life?

—

After having a short conversation with Damiano in private, you decided to follow Ethan’s advice and go to the Soulmate Centre that was only a few minutes away from your house. He wanted to go with you or send someone to watch over you but had accepted your petition to go alone after you told him it was a private matter and you'd tell him all about it once you got back.

So there you were, on the reception of the SC, with your sweaty hands intertwined together as you tried to ignore all the dirty looks people were giving you. Everyone around knew exactly who you were and most weren't one bit pleased to see you there. While some didn't hesitate to look at you like they wanted to kill you, others were afraid to do so.

Those few minutes that passed until the lady at the desk called your name were some of the most uncomfortable of your life. Some part of you hated having the mobster title because that usually gave people the wrong idea and drove them to hate you even if you could proudly say you had done nothing illegal or violent in your whole life. You had to admit the mob wasn’t an ideal job to have morally wise, but you had found a family inside those four walls others doomed to be cursed.

You walked up to the lady. She had what you could interpret as a nervous smile as she stood behind the desk, patiently waiting for you to tell her what had brought you there in the first place. You were hesitant to communicate your issue because you were mortified of finding out a truth that should probably stay hidden.

You reached back and unclasped the chain the ring was looped through. You left it on the counter and smiled softly as you shyly spoke, “So uh, good morning, ma’am. I was hoping you could take a look at my ring, I’m slightly concerned there was something wrong with it.”

The lady nodded and removed the ring from the chain. She inspected it closely for a few minutes before nodding her head towards one of the rooms that said ‘only employees allowed’. She started walking towards it with a quick step and you saw no other choice but to follow right behind her.

She opened the door and quickly closed it with a lock once she verified you were inside, “Listen, the only reason I’m not turning you over to the authorities is because you don’t strike me as someone stupid enough to walk into an SC with a soulmate ring like this.”

Your jaw dropped in surprise at how direct she was being. For a second, you noticed her face fall before she realized it was best to keep a face that communicated seriousness instead of begging for your forgiveness or whatever people did when they pissed Damiano off.

“I don’t know who gave this to you or in which illegal market you bought this but if a higher authority sees you with this, not even Damiano David could save you from the consequences of sporting a fake ring,” She said. You honestly didn’t know how to respond because panic had started to drown out any coherent thought that tried to form on your mind.

You didn’t even try to disguise your panicked expression that time around. Instead, you focused on regulating your breathing and trying to keep all your emotions at bay before you lost control and began to hyperventilate. The other woman noticed your distress almost immediately and led you to sit down on one of the couches.

After you took a few deep breaths, you looked back at her, eager to ask thousands of questions, “How can you know they are fake?”

She sat down next to you and put the ring on your palm, “Look at the inside,” She demanded while pointing her finger to a spot on the inside edge of the ring, “They usually have something engraved inside, a code that only repeats itself twice. Whenever one loses their soulmate, this code vanishes. Your code is still there. I also used a detector to confirm my suspicions and it detected nothing.”

“And with… with that code, can you tell me if my soulmate’s still alive? Or who they are?” The older lady looked at you with pity in her green eyes and shook her head.

“Unless this is the original code engraved on the real ring, there’s not much I can do for you other than telling you how your soulmate is. I need so much more information to ever give you a name,” You nodded in understanding. All you needed to know was if they were alive, that’s all you wanted.

She took your nod as a sign of approval and disappeared into another room. While you waited, you couldn’t help but secretly hope they were dead. You wanted all those weeks of bliss you had spent with Damiano to last a lifetime. He knew everything about you, from the number of scars scattered around your body to what book you had read the most times. No soulmate could learn that about you until years after meeting each other. Besides, it wouldn’t feel right. The Gods had already been too cruel for not making him your soulmate, but now that he wasn’t with Marlee and you knew he loved you just as much as you loved him…

She walked out of the room and cleared her throat to catch your attention. You were thankful for her interruption because you were mere seconds away from bursting into tears of distress. She looked nervous to tell you what she had found out, but the way you looked at her made her spill the truth without any warning.

“Your soulmate is still somewhere out there, alive.”

—

Damiano clutched his side with his hands as every type of curse word spilled from his mouth, “Thomas! Dammit Thomas, where the fuck are you?” He screamed and pushed the ache in his throat and side to the back of his mind as he limped towards the table where his loaded gun was placed, ready to be grabbed and shot.

Things had been perfectly fine just ten minutes back. He had been drinking and playing pool with the boys in the basement. They were all laughing and messing around when Victoria heard the first gunshot. Thomas had been quick to dismiss it as one of the guards practicing his accuracy like they did every once in a while, so they went back to playing the game.

Then they heard it again and again and again. In that time it took the four men to walk up the stairs, people had already successfully broken into the house and they were shooting at anything that moved. The blood-red snake symbol all these people had on the masks that were covering their faces was one he had grown far too familiar with. These were the people Marlee had been conspiring with and they had managed to overthrow every single line of defense in between them and the front door.

Damiano had been in his room fetching a gun when a smoke bomb was thrown into the room. It had stopped him from seeing the person who shot him. Thankfully enough, their vision wasn’t much better either, because the bullet only grazed his side. It was still painful as hell and blood was pouring out of the wound, but it wasn’t going to be anything deadly.

He finally got ahold of his gun after minutes of feeling around the table to try and spot it with the low amount of vision he still had. Once Damiano had it in his hands, he raised the scarf he was wearing to cover the lower part of his face to try and lower the quantity of smoke he inhaled.

He walked out of his room and into the hallway, still holding the gun firmly ready to shoot it at the first person he saw with that red symbol. Damiano opened the door to every room on the third floor. He had to shoot at one or two people before walking down to the floor below. The first room he opened was yours. His eyes went wide as he remembered you were still supposed to be at the SC. Damiano cursed under his breath. He needed to warn you not to come back but to go to your parents’ instead. Damiano opened the tracking app first, a precaution he had been insistent on taking just to make sure you both knew the other was safe.

“Fucking hell,” Damiano mumbled as he saw that blue dot with your name above it was right on the same spot as his. You were back home.

Every thought of investigating each and every room to make sure there was no intruder flew out the window and instead he focused on trying to find you. Everything had turned chaotic on those few minutes he had been in your room, which was why it had gotten harder to get around without finding someone waiting on almost every corner for him to appear.

Damiano heard a piercing scream that made his blood go cold. You were in danger somewhere inside the large home and he desperately needed to get to you, to make sure you were safe from any danger. He knew his friends would be perfectly fine, they had their guns and several types of weaponry close-by, but he knew you didn’t. You always refused to take a gun or dagger with you whenever you went out and if they had caught you right when you had just gotten back… you’d most likely have nothing to defend yourself with.

There was no doubt in his mind that you were witty and incredibly smart, not to mention agile and great at coming up with plans on the spot, but he still needed to make sure you were alright.

He got down on the first floor and his eyes met with a pair of blue ones he knew far too well. He let his eyes trail down to her carmine-tinted shirt. Marlee smiled at him and trailed her thumb along her jawline. That’s when he noticed her hands were also red and she had also left a trail of bloody footsteps from his office to where she was standing. His office.

Damiano didn’t hesitate to point the gun at her leg and pull the trigger. He then aimed for her other leg and shot it. She fell to the floor as an agonizing scream fell from her parted lips. Damiano was satisfied now that her stupid smile had been wiped right off her face.

He quickly ran to the office and opened the door. What he saw inside made time stop. It made all those sounds go silent. It made him feel like there was no floor beneath him to stand on. You were lying on the floor, a dagger piercing your chest.

You looked panicked, sad, like you wanted to do nothing but scream and cry, which you had started doing the moment you saw Damiano walked into the room. He didn’t know if your reaction was out of relief or if there was something else that concerned you, apart from the obvious.

“Damiano,” You spoke up weakly, The sound of your raspy voice was like a slap back into reality. He didn’t waste a second to fall to his knees right by your side. Damiano cupped your face with his trembling hands and brushed your cheek with his thumb.

“Shh. I’m here amore, I’m here,” He responded voice barely above a whisper, “I just need to find something to press against this wound I— something…” He stood up, ready to look for a rag, bandages, anything to stop the blood from rushing out of your body so quickly, but you stopped him.

You wrapped your hand around his arm and with all the strength you had brought him back down, “No hey, stop,” You mumbled, “Unless she happened to study every major artery, vein or has awfully perfect aim, I’ll be dead in minutes.”

He shook his head and wiped the tears that were starting to fall with the back of his hand. He was not giving up. Damiano was not going to let you die, “Wait, no, no. I can do this,” Damiano took his sweater and scarf off. With the help of his scarf, he applied pressure to the wound, careful not to move or dig the dagger further with his movements.

You shook your head and Damiano couldn’t help but cry harder at the desperation and panic in your eyes, “Please, Dami. Stop it, there’s no use. I-I just want you to hold me, please.”

He wiped his runny nose with the back of his hand and nodded repeatedly as he careful cradled you in his arms and moved your head to rest on his lap, “Everything’s going to be okay,” Damiano mumbled and left a long kiss on your forehead, then another one on your cheek and a last one on your lips.

You cupped his face with one of your hands and wiped the tears with your thumb. There wasn’t much left to say, not like you’d be able to talk even if you tried. Instead, you offered him one last sincere smile with all the energy you had left.

He watched in horror as life slowly started to drain out of you as his ring simultaneously turned black. Damiano sat there for minutes after you were gone. He cried and let every frustration, confusion, and pain escape his body with a loud scream.

Damiano didn’t let go of your body until Victoria and Thomas had to forcefully pull him away and let someone else take care of you.

—

Ethan didn’t walk into the room until he made sure every single intruder had been killed, except for Marlee, because Damiano had asked to keep her alive. When he did walk in, all he saw was Damiano with a folder in his hand and multiple pieces of paper scattered around the desk in his room. He looked pale, mortified by everything he was reading. The long-haired man didn’t understand what had gotten his friend in such a state of shock until he walked closer and looked at what seemed to be a contract.

You were Damiano’s soulmate. All your lives you had been tricked into believing you weren’t meant for each other. Your parents had made you believe you had no soulmate and Damiano had been fooled into thinking Marlee was his. You had gotten right to the bottom of it all and the secret would’ve gone to the grave with you if you hadn’t left the papers lying on his desk and if he had left his ring on the pocket of his jeans like he usually would. But now it was far too late to do anything about it.

#damiano david x reader #damiano david x y/n #damiano david x you #damiano david fanfiction #maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction

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peeterparkr · 3 years

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memories & misconceptions|tom holland

prologue: the summer flashback

song: enough for you-olivia rodrigo

↳ read Kat’s version here and Tom’s conversation with Kat. (Harry fic)

So, it’s here. Finally. I’m beyond excited for this. We’ve been working on this for so ong but we are super excited to shared this with you! This is a 2 fics in one, meaning I’ll write Tom’s fic and @erodasghosts will write a Harry Styles fic. It’s a choose your y/n, let’s say. The y/n for Tom will be named Thea on Harry’s fic, and Harry’s y/n is named Kat in this one. The stories are connected, it’s a group of friends living in an old town. This is all a flashback.

Feedback and reblogs are very appreciated.

STORY SUMMARY: Not every relationship can last forever, but what decides when it ends? Is it the memories of when things were, or is it the misconceptions of the present. What is stronger in matters of the heart when love and friendship becomes a choice? Does pride dim our devotion enough for it to be forsaken? And is obstinacy strong enough to erase the memory of a hopeful summer night? When a group of friends are reunited after years of unspoken truths and turbulent grudges, old arguments and fights might ricochet, and though their history might be dense enough to drown them, it might be the one thing to keep them afloat.

chapter summary: The heartbreak of a teenage unrequited lover or when one summer confession led to a disaster. pairing: band member! tom holland x y/n friends to enemies to strangers to lovers idiots to lovers

warnings: mentions of cigarettes, angsty, ish. word count: 9.3k

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Summer is known for romances, romances that spark and shoot like stars, romances that might start on an uneventful afternoon and end with the morning, giving you a night of memories, with innocent evenings full of wonder and hope. Secrets are hidden, songs are written but they say summer romances end for a reason or other. It’s no wonder, summer comes and goes, and the starry nights just flash upon your eyes. It is rare for a summer romance to ever achieve more than spilled bottles of wine or scattered empty packs of cigarettes. Summer romances are but for one’s memory.

Summer romances don’t last.

Summer romances are known to end in the blink of an eye as the sun fades. Or as the last star leaves in the morning. They go so easily.

Luckily, this isn’t a summer romance story. Though, we might want to agree, that there was one particular summer that could've been one.

Summer was usually the best time to open your heart. And you had tried to open it. And to your eyes, it could’ve been something more. Yet. Maybe the heartbreak was necessary, and you would know years later that it was all worth it. But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.

You usually loved summers, it was the perfect time to spend time with your friends, Kat, Harry, Andrew… and Tom.

Friends who will remain friends for more than a summer, who have been friends for even more.

This is the story of memories that were built in misconceptions, of a friend group that fell apart when they needed each other the most. Of a friend group that spoke too much or didn’t speak at all.

One could argue it all started in one particular summer, only with one conversation that led to the chaos that happened years later.

Yet, that summer felt special. The one that had built the most memories that would be ingrained in your heart.

It’s fair to point out now, a summer fling might be easily perceived as a romance. The misconception of the concept often comes as a mistake. You, fair to point out as well, were a victim of misconceptions.

Yet, maybe you had been inspired by your own very friends. Seeing them falling in love with each other had been an inspiration. Harry and Kat. A summer romance that could be presumed to be something else. Something for a lifetime, perchance.

Maybe the secret for a summer romance to last is not to have the romance in summer, but the buildup. What Harry and Kat were doing.

Your own faulty thinking had led you to believe you could experience a summer romance like theirs. It wasn’t even a summer fling.

Yet, it was summer, and nothing more.

Good, however, because summer romances end with it. It wasn’t even a summer romance, yet Tom had ended it with one single sentence.

Harry and Kat were upstairs, in Harry’s room, Tom and you had decided to stay downstairs, while you finished your own cup of tea.

You hadn’t given an answer to the statement that had just shattered your heart minutes ago. You had thanked yourself for not being holding the teacup, for you might have dropped it. But you had dropped his hand, hand you were playing with just as he stated the ending to your fantasy. You felt like you’d never been more at loss to try and make your feelings be what they were not. Though, you were not sure why your heart had shattered. You were meant to smile, even if you were about to cry.

He was your friend. First and foremost. That’s what you were meant to do, support him.

You gripped your teacup as you only waited for an explanation. Not from him, but from your own heart. Why was it aching?

Why was Tom’s statement bothering you? And why had you remained quiet?

It was no secret that his smile caused yours, or that his laughter easily merged with yours. Maybe hearing the sentence he had just said had proven to you how wrong you were, perchance it was only one sided. But Tom was a friend, he’d been your friend for a long, long, long time now.

He only watched you. Expecting you to say anything, anything.

Not every day you hear… a friend saying he has feelings for your best friend. Tom had feelings for Kat. That had come as a big surprise for you, given the summer you had had with him.

“I have feelings for Kat,” he had said. He had dared to say.

Not every day, you hear the person you’d been willing to give up all your dreams for say he is interested on your own best friend. Not after the summer you had had.

Not that it was… interesting enough. Apparently.

How had the conversation led there? Only a few minutes before you had been begging him to play Dreams by The Cranberries that night at Grandma’s, and he had said he would only if you sang it, the song that had defined that summer for you both.

Yet he had stopped your fantasy.

They had been hanging out together, for sure, Kat and Tom. But so had you and Harry. And you and Andrew.

But you and Tom. Maybe you had been foolish for thinking about it.

You were friends, but—

“Oh?” you had finally said, you only took a sip from your tea. You offered him a warm smile trying to erase whatever expression you had before. “Really? You… You… You have feelings for Kat? That’s… new.”

He had feelings for your best friend when you’d been making a fool of yourself for him. This had been your fault. And you weren’t even sure why it was your fault. Why were you feeling this way?

Tom seemed to be confused with your reaction. “Yeah… I… I think we’re really alike.”

You tried not to actually feed on your real emotions. “Right.” You gave him another smile.

He eyed down the teacup. “You always leave lipstick stains everywhere,” he pointed out as your lips were pressed against the cup. “Red here—Red there.“

You bit your lip, and glanced at the teacup. “Yeah,” you were trying not to be hurt about this all. “So,” you kept watching him, more curiously now. “Kat? Hm, makes sense. You’ve been spending a lot of time with her.”

Tom glued his eyes back to yours, “yeah, okay,” he scratched his head. “Yeah, she—she understands me. And I don’t have to—“

“But what about Harry?” You whispered then. Knowing his very best friend would be upstairs with Kat. Being cute or whatever they did when they were alone.

Tom coughed, “Yeah, that’s the issue. But…” Tom raised his own empty cup, letting it hang from his finger. “Do you… I mean, think about it, they are so different, eh?”

“Yeah, well different is good,” you said. “I mean, we are so different, and we get along just fine. We are ...very good friends.” Though there was a hidden meaning behind that sentence.

Tom took a deep breath, avoiding your glance. “But, look, I have... You and Harry, you guys get along well, because you both are so alike, alright?”

“Ew, no, are you suggesting—“

“No, I… I know you and Harry are just friends… and Kat might…” Tom was nervous. “But, in the long run,” he took a deep breath. “I mean—Look, we get along fine but—Those two—“

“Harry’s your best friend,” you stated before he could continue. “Tom—Thomas you know how Harry feels about Kat. And I’m sure Kat… feels the same.”

Harry and Tom were just like you and Kat. Best friends. So it came as a surprise Tom was saying this, letting past the summer you had had with him, with you both smoking from the same cigarette, your head on his shoulder every time you needed to rest it, your lips leaving red marks in his own cups, or sometimes on his cheek. Driving with windows down to talk about anything and nothing. Watching movies to memorize the lines, and memorizing the melody of his smile. Blushing every time he looked into your eyes or brushing your hand against his any time you could.

Watching Kat and Harry fall in love, slowly as they kept sneaking around, clearly trying to make the friendship try and become something else. With Harry stating the obvious and Kat growing past the need of hiding her own sentiments.

Why was Tom standing there saying he liked Kat? When his own very best friend had opened his heart so abruptly to her. Did he dismiss it? Was he so selfish?

And did this summer when you both planned your dreams meant absolutely nothing?

And his best friend. His very best friend was in love with Kat.

Tom sighed. “But what if… I just…” He rubbed his temple. “I dunno.”

You waited for him to keep talking. You needed him to walk you through this. Had he not played songs to you all summer? Or held you tight when the five friends watched a horror movie? Had you not lied to your dad to sneak out at nights with him? Had you not laughed until you ran out of breath? Had you not written so many songs for and about him? Or talked with him about everything and nothing having those talks that seem to go forever?

Did he not know your deepest fears now? And what for?

Had that not… been enough? How blinded had you been for this?

And why did that even matter? You couldn’t care less about him. Or… rather, you only cared for him as a friend. So it made no sense why you were so heartbroken. Why was your chest crushing your heart?

You decided to speak again, “Harry’s asking her out today, Thomas.”

Because although Harry didn’t hide his feelings he had finally earned the courage to try and make it official. Or rather… he finally thought Kat was ready.

“Is that all you’re saying?” He questioned.

Tom and Kat were very similar, they were quiet and reserved. Scared of showing any emotion. Tom loved living in his own world where remorse and melancholy were the only two acceptable emotions. It was hard for him to show anything, and you had accepted that, knowing that he was such a mysterious person. It was fun trying to discover him, as if you were unlocking layers.

With Kat, you had been used to it, already. Your best friend loved pushing her feelings aside. So of course, you had learned not to make them push it.

Perhaps that had led you not to push Tom, knowing he’d—be bothered. And now this was another confirmation as to why, for the first time, you would push your feelings aside.

Harry and you, on the other hand, were loud and sharing. For both of you, life was pink and everything had to be a show. Everything. You both believed in feelings being showcased. Harry and you both often fought for the spotlight.

It was funny, how mirroring Harry and Tom were to you and Kat. And how ironic it was Harry fell for the female version of his best friend.

And how you… would deny everything for the first time.

You shrugged, “what else would I, Thomas? Are you a complete moron? That’s your best friend upstairs and my best friend!”

“Which is why—don’t you think—Kat would be happier with someone like me?” Tom questioned.

You waited for him to elaborate, eyes glued on him.

He cleared his throat. “I—someone who won’t push her to—show her feelings, someone who understands that—Someone who isn’t too much.”

Too much. You swallowed those words. Too much. Tom often said you and Harry were so, so similar. He acknowledged it, too. His best friend and you probably were, that’s why you and Harry got perfectly fine. But too much? What was that supposed to mean? You were too much? Was he trying to say that?

“Aren’t you best friends with Harry? Am I not best friends with Kat?” You pushed. “Kat brings the best in me, and Harry brings the best in you.”

“But it’s a friendship,” Tom said. “What if—Kat gets overwhelmed with Harry? Or what if Harry gets bored of Kat? How bad of a heartbreak would that be for her?”

You only stared at him, once again. Fidgeting with your cup.

“You don’t support this,” Tom said.

“Yeah, um.. you can like whoever you want, there’s nothing wrong in liking someone, I actually encourage you to have some feelings,” you said, with venom. “And I understand why you like Kat, she is very beautiful, she’s got a great personality and you are both very similar. Too similar.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tom said, looking away. Did he feel guilty? “But also,” he continued. “I—Well.”

“You’re a moron, he is your best friend, besides this summer-” you cut off the sentence and shook your head. “Why are you telling me this?” You asked.

Tom Pressed his lips, and took a deep breath. “Because—“Tom shrugged. “I dunno, I trust you, you’re my friend, you—we have gotten closer right? I mean we’ve—I— and you—Maybe you can help me out with Kat.”

You wanted to scream. “Help you out with my best friend who I know who she has feelings for? When that guy happens to be your very best friend? When that guy happens to be upstairs? When that guy happens to be my friend, too? And he likes her back? You’d have to be a proper idiot.”

“I— really like Kat, and Harry, I know him, he probably will do something big, you know? Just to ask her out, and—He makes a big deal of everything-”

“Because he is in love with her!” You stated. “He wants the best for her, and you should know that. Your love language might be non-existent, but Harry’s is…showing affection in big romantic gestures, and that’s the thing, y’know? Yes, he goes big but because he thinks that’s what Kat deserves, and she does!”

“I know she does but—He hasn’t taken the time to know her, and I have—Look, it’s complicated.”

You had crossed your arms upstairs. “Your best friend—“

“I know,” he answered. “But—I—look, this summer—“

“This summer?”

You heard a car honk outside. Andrew, the fifth member to the friend group, often a savior to this kind of situation, was here already. You did not want to speak to Tom right now, he was being selfish and an idiot. Did he not notice how heartbroken you were?

And you didn’t even care about your own heart, if he didn’t… No, if the summer that you had spent meant nothing to him, then there was nothing you could do. Maybe in another life, or in another time, something would’ve gone differently.

Maybe it had never been meant to be at all, and you had built in an idea from an illusion and it was easier to live in your own fantasy.

You avoided him, and went to the door, with your whole body shrinking, your head spinning. How was he so selfish? His own best friend loved Kat. How dare he?

You needed to avoid your own heavy heart hanging from your chest, so broken.

“Y/N,” Tom tried following after you.

You had seen Andrew slam the door after getting out of his step brother’s car, Nicholas. Someone who you didn’t care about at all. But—right now you needed an escape and there was Nicholas, in that old car he drove.

Andrew seemed pissed yet you still decided to approach Nick. Knowing damn well it would piss off Tom.

Andrew gave you a funny look. You decided to kiss Andrew’s cheek before turning to his step brother's car. Wondering if Tom was watching you.

Seemed that your sole goal was to enrage him.

“Hey, thanks for dropping Andrew,” you said as you leaned over to the window.

Nick chuckled. “I was forced to.”,

“I know,” you gave him an apologetic smile. “but still thanks.”

Nicholas had always been of mostly everyone’s interest. Typical blue eyed brown haired boy with pretty features. He was… popular, which meant he was only bothered by his brother and his lack of popularity. Or different popularity he was offered.

Your friend group had never been of interest to become popular, you rather enjoyed being left alone to your own shenanigans. You had more fun than them, that is. You knew, however, that there was some sort of popularity involved in your group, probably because of Harry.

Nicholas watched you, unaware of what exactly were your intentions on approaching him. “Nice to see you—y/n.”

“yeah,” you said carelessly. “You too, Nicholas.”

“You’re the only decent one in his group of friends, huh?” He dedicated a smile to you.

“Y/N,” you heard Tom call.

You ignored him and a very weird thought came to your mind, as you were leaning on the window, maybe you could hop in and escape from Tom, ask Nick to drive you away from the heartache. How dramatic would it be to escape from your heartbreak on a car. “Well, we are not that bad,” you said. “and—Well, the reason why I’m approaching you…” you reminded yourself again. “I don’t know if Andrew told you, my friends—Harry and Tom, they’re playing tonight at my grandma's cafe, they’ve got a band.”

Nick seemed confused about your statement. “ah, and you want me there?”

You smiled warmly. “Yeah, would be cool if you came, I’m inviting everyone, the more the merrier, you can bring your friends… I just want everyone to see them they’re really good.”

“Are they?” Nick rolled his eyes.

You beamed nodding, “Yeah, Tom’s great with the guitar, and Harry’s a really good singer, plus they’re singing a few songs I wrote,” you explained, kindly even if the guy was probably dying to mock you.

“Are you seriously inviting me?” Nick asked. “Don’t you hate me?”

“Yeah, I am inviting you,” you insisted with a smile. “And I don’t hate anybody.”

Maybe Tom. Momentarily.

His sight changed, and his smirk turned into a genuine smile followed by an eye roll. “I—might drop by with some friends then. But, since you invited me, I might need to spend some time with you there.”

“We’ll see, see you.”

You turned on your feet. Tom was staring at you, incredulous. Just as Andrew, who was confused by the matters of it. You ignored them both and walked back into the house.

“Y/N,” Tom called.

“Andrew, darling, would you mind helping me clean up?” You called.

Tom walked to you. “You didn’t seriously just invite Dickolas?” Tom questioned you.

You didn’t bother looking at him. “Yeah, why not?

Andrew scoffed, “You’re really asking?” Andrew hissed.

“Because he’s a dickhead,” Tom snapped.

Tom was probably the one to hate Nick the most, probably because he saw Andrew as his own brother.

“I’m sure he will behave,” you said. “Besides, your band, Thomas, needs to have a younger audience, not a bunch of old farts and your families.” You then remembered your friend. “Does it bother you, Andrew?” You asked.

“Yes,” Tom answered.

“Andrew?” you emphasized.

Andrew took a deep breath. “No, I guess, you’re right.”

Tom watched you. “Whatever. I don’t think he’s coming anyway.”

Andrew stared at Tom. “Please, y/n invited him, of course he’s coming,” he said, annoyed.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked.

Andrew smirked and then glanced at Tom. “It means hurry the fuck up,” he warned him.

Tom flipped Andrew off.

“Where’s Kat and Harry?” Andrew asked.

“Upstairs, being adorable and such,” you said as you took the teacups to the sink.

Tom was still watching you. “You are literally betraying Andrew by inviting Dickolas, that’s being a shitty friend.”

You spun on your feet and made your way to him. “Oh,” you poked him repeatedly, accusingly. “so you do understand the concept of friendship.”

Tom avoided your gaze, “Y/N. That is different.”

“You’re right, your betrayal is worse!” But you were not sure who he was a traitor to.

Andrew frowned. “What betrayal?”

“She’s being overdramatic,” Tom snapped.

You could not believe him. “Am I?” You crossed your arms, but then pushed him away as he was trying to grab your arms to calm down. “You’ve got to be pissing me—You realize you’re being completely stupid—“

“Tom’s always stupid,” Andrew commented.

Maybe you were overreacting. “After all this summer, after—“But then again you had a reason. “You are literally betraying your very best friend—“

Tom grabbed your hand and pulled you close to him as he shushed you, “Hey, sh, sh, please!”

You only glared at him, snatching your hand from him. Did he— really not see all of this?

Andrew stared between you both, confused. “Yeah, I’m not gonna go through this whole mommy and daddy are fighting, I’m gonna go upstairs and interrupt the other two, hope they’re not making out.” He stated before leaving.

Tom frowned and turned to you the second Andrew had left, “so you were willing to spill my secret—“

“Andrew’s your friend.”

“I don’t want him to know,” Tom snapped. He had never snapped at you.

“Why? Because you know he will call you out for being a dick?” And you had never snapped back, and you had never called him that.

Tom was as surprised as you were. “did you—just call me a dick?”

“Yes.” But you would stand by it.

He was puzzled. Probably was confused as to how you’d gone from giggling and blushing while making the tea to—this. “why? You never—“

“because you are one!” You stated. Did he understand what you were feeling? And did he not understand how big of a jerk and a prick he was for dismissing his best friend?

“Yes, well you’re being a bigger dick for inviting Dickolas,” he hissed. “you literally know he has been such an asshole to Andrew lately.”

You avoided his glance. He had never spoken to you that way. “They’ve been getting better.”

They hadn’t .

“They haven’t and you know that,” Tom snarked.

You didn’t answer. Yes, it was wrong. But if you were honest. You already believed Nick was… misunderstood and often pushed around by his mother. Andrew had always agreed with you that his mother was the true enemy. Andrew’s father and Nicholas mother had decided to marry, only a few months back so Andrew was adjusting to the new life with his step brother. That wasn’t going well.

“You shouldn’t have invited him,” Tom pushed.

“But he’s popular,” you said.

“So are you and Harry! And I—I don’t really need anyone else there,” Tom said.

Nana, your grandmother, had given them the chance to play at her café. Probably your second favorite place to hang out after the treehouse.

“You do! Besides, I… This isn’t for you, okay?” You said.

He blinked. “What?”

“I need… My dad told me nobody cared so by inviting more people I am showing him I can-” You sighed.

Tom closed his eyes, “Is this what that’s about? Y/N--You can’t keep”

“My dad thinks Nick is a good person,” you sighed. “He has been working this summer with him and-”

“That's got to be bullshit. He thinks Dickolas is a good person and yet he--doesn’t believe I’m a good influence” Tom questioned.

Well, to be fair, your dad believed Tom to be a bad boy. He wasn’t. He tried to seem like one, with his leather jackets and cigarettes and his band and everything… edgy. Yet, Tom was sweet, or at least he was sweet to you. Your dad believed the guy to only be playing with your heart, which was ironic now, since… Well. He had spent a whole summer with you and ended up liking someone else. Your dad wasn’t fond of him. And you weren’t either, in this particular moment.

You’d grown up with this life ahead of you, this picture perfect future you wanted. A happy family, not like the one you had. You wanted to have what you didn’t, so your dad believed that Tom was ruining that dream for you.

“You’re ruining his perfect daughter,” you rolled your eyes. “You smoke.”

Tom rolled his eyes, “so do you!” He scrunched his nose and rolled his eyes. “And you’re changing the subject. I know you didn’t invite Nick for that.”

Tom probably knew you were doing to piss him off. “You need more people, Tom!”

“Well not Nick!” Tom snapped, again.

“Why not?” You questioned.

“Because it’s Dickolas, y/n, he… he is a dick,” Tom explained.

You looked up with poison, “and you aren’t?” You snapped.

“I mean, they both are,” a third voice came to the room. Kat. “Why would we want to put up with two dicks?”

Your heart stopped as you turned to see your best friend coming into the room. You looked between her and Tom with fear. Tom had gone stiff, too. He swallowed hard, and you were glaring at him. But you needed to go past your own emotions. Kat perfectly knew how to read you and you didn’t want her reading you right now. You needed to hide your heartbreak and anger.

You cleared your throat in an attempt to shift your posture. “Oh, haven’t thought about that, then Tom doesn’t have to come,” you snaked.

Tom scrunched his nose. “it’s literally my band?”

Kat walked over to you, “Maybe so but y/n makes a point, seems like an even trade with them,” she grinned at you.

You smirked, thankful your best friend had taken your side without even thinking about it. “See?” You crossed your arms. “Besides, I really do think that more people seeing you guys would be better, I don’t think a bunch of old farts is a great audience for your wanna be farty band.” You were really just throwing shots at Tom right now, knowing it would hurt him. He did look somehow hurt at you. You avoided his gaze. “Anyway, I need to… go talk to Harry.”

You started to walk away

Tom feared. “about what, exactly?” He clenched his jaw.

You raised your brows, and shrugged before poisoning, looking over your shoulder. “The power of friendship.”

Tom glared.

You yanked.

“Are you two… okay?” Asked Kat, watching between the both of you. Probably sensing the tension.

“No,” you sincered but then dedicated her a smile. “Thanks for asking, see you there my great friend and…” you eyed Tom up and down. “Tom.”

You left but heard Kat ask him. “What the fuck did you say to her?”

You were determined to run upstairs but Kat followed after, so you had to keep on with the facade.

“Wait, Thea, what’s going on?” Kat asked, because you knew no matter how much you tried to hide it from her, Kat would know.

“What? Nothing, he's just being an idiot…” You said, still trying to hide it. “Wait what’s…” You also could read your friend’s expression. Her flushed cheeks, her eyes shining. She probably had the best of news. Had Harry finally told her how he felt? “What happened with Harry? Why are you blushing?” You gushed. “Did you kiss?” you grinned, and for a moment your heartbreak was fone.

“Wait, what? I’m… “ She cleared her throat, and tried to hide the big smile. “No, we didn’t kiss, but…”

You smirked. “But?”

She rolled her eyes, still trying to mask her excitement. “You’re just avoiding whatever happened with Tom.”

You were. “Nothing happened.” Untrue. “But you’re the one avoiding whatever happened with Harry, please!” You pushed her jokingly. “You guys were there for about…an eternity, what happened? You’re smiling like an idiot!” You teased your friend.

“I am not avoiding it, I’m actually happy to share but I’m just concerned for you…”She watched you. “Was I really blushing, though?”

You gave her a cheeky grin. “Well, what happened?”

“I’m expecting to hear about Tom later, but… “ She couldn’t stop smiling. “Harry wrote this new song, and he was playing it for me… he seemed pretty nervous to share, and I guess it… I mean, it seemed to… be about me?”

You screamed, because what else is there to do when your friend tells her her crush wrote a song about her?

A song which you knew the existence of already, might be good to point out now. Harry had told you everything he had planned for Kat, and it was absolutely romantic. After the summer they had had, it was bound to come. Harry was completely mesmerized with her, and you knew Kat had feelings for him too.

Maybe you’d grown too deep into their reality that you confused it with your fantasy with Tom, which apparently was merely that. Your own stupid imagination. But you’d deal with the heartbreak later.

“And? What did you do?” You smiled at her.

“I… I mean, we were close to kissing before Andrew had interrupted…”She dropped the news like it was nothing. “And then on my way out I gave him my lipstick, like he had mentioned in the song.”

You chirped, and tried to hide your giggles. At least she was getting somewhere with this stupid summer. “Shut up, you should’ve bloody kissed him in the moment you twit!” You pushed her jokingly.

Kat’s eyes shined with hope. “I know, and we had been so close!

There was some sort of jealousy growing inside you. Not that you blamed Kat, or Harry. You blamed Tom for making you so foolishly believe anything. But that didn’t matter. Your friend was getting somewhere. And you were so happy for her. You wouldn’t dare to bring down her excitement. “And how do you feel about this? Are you finally admitting it? That you fancy his stupid ass?” You teased her, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

She clenched her jaw with a hidden smirk. “Well I never said that, did I? And I could’ve chosen much worse, like Tom or something.”

Kat didn’t know. There was no possible way for her to know what was going on. But she probably was trying to dig up whatever happened with him. Kat often didn’t have to ask what you felt and she knew. Just one look. This was her way to crack you.

And she did. “Fuck him,” you stated, proudly.

Kat widened her eyes with surprise, but nodded in acceptance. “So you’re cussing now, what happened?”

You cussed only when it was needed. “What happened is that you almost kissed Harry and you’re being stupid and avoiding it. So, what’s up with that?” You were the one avoiding your situation.

But what would you even say? To admit anything would mean finally saying out how how you...felt for Tom, and that would make it real, and then what else? That he liked her? And what would that mean to you? Were you being selfish.

Kat didn’t buy it. “Hmm, sure, that’s all,” she watched skeptically. “But I don’t mean to avoid it, for once, it’s just that Andrew came in. After the show, though, maybe I can get my lipstick back from him, you know?”

You licked your lips. “I’m pretty sure he wanted the lipstick, so then, how about when he gives it back, you use it so he can actually taste it,” you puckered your lips to make fun of her, then proceeded to make annoying kissing noises.

Kat tried to ignore them, rolling her eyes, but you could see she was trying to hold a laugh. “Anyway, I’ll tell you how that goes!” She looked away. “You’re sure you don’t want to ride with Tom and I?”

“I’d rather jump off a cliff,” you stated quickly, without even thinking about it. “No… I’m joking, I… I just need to talk to Harry about one of the songs… But I’ll see you guys there.” You didn’t mean to shut her off but you really didn’t feel okay.

She seemed slightly hurt. “Uhm, yeah, alright.”

“Yeah, and if you get the chance, please break his neck,” you smiled.

She looked you in the eyes, she was worried. How broke did you actually look. But she gave in, “I’d take any excuse to do that, but I do expect an explanation once I’ve done it.”

“It’s nothing, Katherine,” yet it came off slightly rude. You were hurting. “See you in a bit.”

You turned around, more determined. You knew Kat was probably upset. But you kept walking.

You had to stop right outside Harry’s closed door. You took a deep breath as soon as you knew nobody could see you.

To deal with the heartbreak you were denying to have was not simple. To fall in love with someone you’re so different from might be one of the foolish ways to ruin your own heart. It is jumping into the abyss without a parachute just for a view that’ll only last for a few seconds. It’s crossing the street with your eyes closed. Walking into the woods knowing you are going to get lost, never knowing if you’ll ever make it to the clear. It’s ruining yourself a million times. Yet it’s worth it, for some time at least.

But to fall in love with someone who will never love you back. It’s simply stupid.

You swallowed your words, your pride and your hurt. You knew you’d probably end up crying later that night. Hoping it would rain so your tears rhymed to the storm. Your chest hurt, as you tried to breathe in, leaning against the door to gain back your balance. With a hand to your heart, and the other one covering your mouth. You tried not to let it hurt but it simply did.

You’d keep it for yourself and you would never admit it out loud, that you had dared to open your heart just slightly. Why would you ever admit to anyone that you were ruined by him?

You’d get over it, eventually. You’d be happy. Just not today, and that was okay. And you wished he was happy, too. That wasn’t true. You didn’t wish that for him.

You’d resist the temptation to ever cease the wonder if you’d done something wrong, or maybe you just hadn’t been enough even when you’d tried to be the one perfect for him. Vain it had been all your stupid attempts to listen to the music he did, or coming up with little lies to your dad, or hiding that sparkle in your eyes when he walked into the room. Too stupid to think you deserved his love. Too stupid to try and prove you were worthy of his love. He was fire, and skies and wind and that you could be too, if he wanted you to be.

But it didn’t matter now, he liked Kat. Tom avoided showing any feelings, so for him to be stating he liked Kat, it was a big step. You were proud, you guessed. He finally gave in to feelings.

So you had to save your broken heart and put it in a drawer and smile. You cleaned up the single tear that had gone down your cheek and then pinched your cheeks just slightly to get that usual blush on your face. You decided not to knock on the door and simply walk in, as if you hadn’t just been on the verge of tears before.

But he wore jeans and t-shirts, so you’d get over his stupid ass and his stupid guitar. Even if that meant breaking his guitar, you know, for fun… But as an accident. No. You wouldn’t. But it would be fun. To break it like he broke your heart.

“Hey, losers,” you said, seeing as Harry stopped pacing around his room to stare at you. His eyes had a spark, he was blushing.

Fuck, was everyone in love and loved? Well, at least not Tom. He’d be broken hearted because Kat had brain cells and loved Harry.

“What are you doing here?” He questioned. Though he was confused, you noticed it, the bright eyes, the blushed cheeks.

“I’ll ride with you.”

Harry took a deep breath, but then chuckled. “Why did you suddenly decide to stay, princess?” Harry frowned.

“I’d rather drive with you, Tom always plays weird music, and I hate him,” you answered Harry.

Harry watched you, “That makes… two of us but, princess, there’s no need to hate, we all shall love, because love? Is a very splendid thing y/n, why do you think there are so many love songs? Love is like flying, and like-”

“Love sucks,” you snapped, plopping on Harry’s bed beside Andrew. Andrew watched you. “And love songs suck more. Everything is stupid. I hate you all,” you said and then picked up Harry’s pillow to hide your face under it. “No, I mean,” you shook your head, muffled. “Sorry, I’m tired, I… talked to Kat and she seemed to… Love the song.”

Harry giggled. Giggled? Seriously. “Of course she did, everything was going… perfect but then Andrew decided to ruin it. But it’s still perfect, because everything is butterflies and it feels like a summer breeze but princess, you’re ruining it, too! Y/N! You were supposed to distract Kat!”

You were. Harry had asked his best friend and you to keep Kat busy so she wouldn’t suspect whatever he was planning.

But you clearly didn’t want to be with Tom. His presence would wound your own heart and your heart was very delicate. “Yes, uh, Tom will… Tom will take care of that,” you sassed. “Oh yes he will,” you hissed.

Was it wrong? Maybe you should’ve gone. Tom was stupid enough to try something with Kat. But Kat wasn’t stupid. She’d probably throw him off a cliff and you’d be perfectly fine with that. You could push him yourself. Were there any cliffs around?

Harry seemed nervous and he never usually was. “Are-are-you sure? I don’t want Kat suspecting—“

“Suspect? The song gave it away, idiot, you should’ve asked already! Besides, if I spend two minutes more with him I’m going to scream..”

Andrew cleared his throat. “See? Told you.”

You eyed Andrew before hitting him with the pillow, you stood and decided to sit in front of Harry’s keyboard. Writing a song about a heartbreak was the best option, but this wasn’t the time so you just tickled some notes. “But I’m here to help Harry get ready.”

“So you’re staying to help Harry out with his outfit? Is that why you’re staying?” Andrew asked.

“I need to scream, and yell at someone and Harry was my choice,” you admitted to Andrew.

“Fair enough, I think that’s proper, yelling at Harry,” Andrew commented.

“I’m kind of trying to get ready,” Harry stated. “Mind leaving the yelling for another time?”

You stared at the keyboard, knowing damn well that music might be the one savior you needed to get through it, but the lack of courage you were facing right now was only intriguing. You were hurting.

“So, she liked the song.” You grinned instead. Even if you already knew what had happened.

Harry grinned, “Well, of course she did, it was… Fuck, everything is going perfect right now, it’s just all coming together, I’ve got to admit I was kind of... Nervous. But,” Harry smirked, pulling a lipstick from his pocket. “I now have this, and luckily I’ll get to know how it tastes tonight.”

Of course Harry would come up with the same stupid joke as you.

Andrew blinked, confused. “Are you going to put it on?”

“He means he wants to kiss her, idiot,” You cleared out to your friend, and turned to Harry. “So, she seemed to like this straightforward thing.”

Harry smirked, “I was surprised by that, but guess someone in the relationship had to step in. I thought she didn’t… know.”

“I reckon she knows it’s about her,” you admitted.

“I made it pretty obvious, and then she gave me her lipstick and I…we almost kissed.” Harry was swooning.

“Oh, so that’s why she was blushing,” you chuckled. Hearing the whole thing again just made you feel even more lonely. “Splendid, I’m so happy for you both!”

Even when you were against love and romance at the moment, that didn’t mean you weren’t happy for your best friend. And for Harry. Because they made sense. The fact that Tom had completely erased the fact that Harry and Kat were perfect angered you more than the fact he had completely dismissed your own attempts to… get somewhere with him.

How casually cruel, though, you’d been very obvious with your sentiments, and to have Tom walk all over your heart. He was so incredibly selfish.

Harry was all over the moon, you could tell, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled. The subtle pink on his cheeks. You didn’t blame him. Kat was spectacular. Very main character vibes. The kind of girl that was not… typical. Kat was caring, and kind. And Kat was probably too curious to learn about Harry, which probably was Harry’s favorite subject to talk about.

Kat was the kind of girl people often took a second glance at, too intriguing. Too mysterious. With a smile that was hard to get but brightened the whole room when it came around. Smart, funny. She was… the whole deal.

Of course Harry was in love with her, and of course Tom would be driven to her, as well. The girl deserved any kind of attention directed her way. You guessed you should’ve seen it coming.

But that didn’t mean Tom wasn’t an idiot and that you’d be completely unreasonable. You had to be. You were broken hearted. He had given you a summer full of illusion just to break it right now. He deserved to be pushed off a cliff.

Harry beamed, as his eyes brightened even more. “I just want to kiss her already,” he commented as he walked to his bathroom, singing loudly to himself.

Andrew approached you, “So, what happened with Tom?”

Another one asking. You were so at a loss at trying to seem alright. “Nothing,” you snapped.

“Y/N, yesterday you were being adorable and shit, you guys were fucking clearly flirting, trying to kiss his bloody cheek just to be petty about his comment on leaving red lips everywhere, and today I come here and you are glaring and yelling? Something had to bloody happen!” Andrew pointed out. “So don’t try to fuckin’ trick me.”

That was the thing. Yesterday you could’ve sworn you were—getting to be friendlier. Maybe something even more, yet today he dropped the stupid bomb.

“Well.” You couldn’t phrase it. “I was not flirting.”

Andrew scoffed.

“He is my friend. We are only friends. And that’s all we'll ever be,” you continued.

Andrew raised his brows. “Oh sure, as friends as Harry and Kat are, Y/N you guys are also—“

“You seem to confuse whatever is going on with Kat and Harry with Tom and I. Harry and Kat—they are, of course, getting somewhere, because they are clearly more than friends,” your tone was cold and serious. “And I’m very happy for them, and I’m sure—It’s something that could last forever, they are clearly meant to be, so I’m happy,” because you were, but your heart still ached. “But that’s them. Tom and I are friends, and only that.” Seemed that the statement was not… necessary, but you needed to hear it yourself. “Though it might have seemed as—“you cleared your throat, because there was nothing else. “As it could be the perfect set up, two pairs of best friends dating two other best friends—it is nothing like that. Someone like Tom and I are meant to be only friends, and at times it seems like even our friendship is—forced. I don’t like Tom as anything else, and Tom doesn’t like me as anything more.”

Andrew seemed skeptical. He kept watching you. Maybe he didn’t sense that you were in fact, not saying it to him, but stating it for yourself, trying to convince yourself of it.

“Don’t push it, don’t try pursuing a fantasy that will never be, and it’s better to get it over now, just so we are clear. Besides, things are not what they seem and whatever happened with him I clearly don’t want to talk about it, alright?” It came out with more poison than planned.

Andrew squinted his eyes. “Well, I hope you talk about it with Kat later because it clearly is bothering you.”

“It is not.”

Andrew only offered you a hug, which you kindly accepted. “And Nick?” Andrew questioned. “Why did you invite Nick?”

“Yeah, why Dickolas?” Harry had walked back into the room, spraying cologne on him.

You shrugged, “He will bring friends. Thought you’d be more excited about having a bigger audience. And,” you waved your hand in front of your face. “Isn’t that too much cologne? You’re supposed to smell good, not kill the audience.”

Harry shrugged, “I’m good with Kat only watching, don’t need a large audience” Harry grinned.

“Ew, romance,” Andrew said and you both mimicked throwing up noises to which Harry ignored.

“And, I need to smell good, princess, I’ll be standing next to fetid Thomas, I shall remind you,” Harry said and wiggled his eyebrow.

You got stiff at his remark, sudden change of subject. “Yeah, right. Especially now that Dickolas is also coming, the place will be infested.”

“Yeah, but not even Dickolas will ruin my night,” Harry stated, still his gaze going everywhere. “I-” He grinned.

“Just an advice,” you said suddenly, remembering how Harry was. “I know you’re going straightforward or whatever,” you nodded. “But, maybe don’t ask Kat out in front of everyone.”

Harry clapped his hands. “No,” he said sheepishly. “I know, I know, I know, I’ve--” He chuckled “I would’ve already sang in front of the whole school, y’know? All rom com-”

“No,” Andrew stepped in. “Or maybe do, so we can see her killing you.”

You laughed at the input. “No, we don’t want that, but really,” you smirked. “I am serious-I know her-”

“Yes, y/n, princess, I know you know Kat, but I’ve also got to learn a lot about her this summer,” Harry rushed in. “And she… She really,” Harry could barely speak, as his smile was impeding him to, as if instead he wanted to only laugh out of embarrassment, the wide grin. The unique and singular joy you feel when you’re in love and loved. “Look, I won’t fuck it up, alright?”

You knew he wouldn’t. Harry and Kat had been flowing nicely, oh so nicely. Though you knew you could be secretly thanked for that, Harry often came for advice, but genuinely, you knew that Harry didn’t need much help, often he only needed reassurance, because Kat could… easily shut off her feelings and you’d need to remind Harry to keep on track.

“I know,” you rolled your eyes. “Now, let’s go, we might be late.”

Harry still had to change his outfit about 4 more times, having also Andrew and you yell at him each time he did. Andrew tried asking about Tom just once more. But you ignored him.

Although now you had decided you’d live vicariously through Harry and Kat’s romance. You had seen him playing with the lipstick she’d given him. You remembered when he initially told you he liked her, although there was no need for it. Harry had been obvious enough about his feelings for her. He would often talk about her as if she was like a spring melody, or as if she was like a nice summer morning, with the sun creeping out just gently to warm him, with the birds chirping in the background.

The way Harry talked about Kat or the way he stared at her would inspire anyone to be in love. It came as a blessing and as a curse. Maybe you had forced yourself into thinking you could have something like that. Love blinds. Especially when you think you are in love, but aren’t.

You had to ignore the heartbreak because it was irrational to have one. Though, Andrew was right, it was bothering you. But nobody had to know about this. Not even Kat, she was being happy with her progress with Harry. You would not impede her happiness.

So you’d have to do what Tom had taught you to, shut down every emotion you had. Push away any possible feeling. And pretend like nothing had happened, forget this whole summer. And never bring it up again, because it would be selfish. So you’d focus on Harry and Kat.

Harry had kept on rambling over the song, and how it had gone. How magical it had been and how he was filled with hope. How a summer romance had been like a sweet melody. From days into nights, the sun cascading every time he was with her. Butterflies, butterflies, butterflies.

When you arrived at the cafe, you had initially ignored Tom, for your own sake. Although you had wanted to speak to him, you couldn’t bring yourself to it. But for everyone else, you were still happy. No one could see the pain you were going through. No one had to know.

Seemed like Kat was busy enough, though. The moment she saw Harry, everything turned into pink butterflies, apparently. As if the sun had suddenly come out after a storm. They way their smiles synchronized warmed your own heart. Even made you smile. Harry and Kat’s hearts were glowing.

You talked to your grandmother, she did notice even though you had tried hiding it.

You were applying lipstick as Tom approached you. You decided to ignore him as you were setting tables, getting the place ready for their… show, if you could call it like that. Tom looked… hurt. Or… just shut down. The exact opposite of Harry. It felt so cold when he approached you.

It made you think of Andrew’s remark. How only the day before maybe you had been flirting. Now you didn’t even want to look him in the eye, to protect yourself.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You didn’t even look up. “Have you finished setting up the guitar?”

“Yeah… yeah,” Tom gulped down his pride and spoke up, “Hey, eh-”

“I hope you didn’t do anything stupid,” you glared at him before he could say anything else. He was taken aback.

“Like what?”

“I dunno, telling her,” you were serious. “She really likes Harry and she just had a great moment with him. They’re both happy Tom and I don’t want you messing up with her happiness. Don’t ruin this for them.”

Tom avoided your glare, he seemed very conflicted. “Yeah, I…” He licked his lips. “I have a talent for messing up.”

You felt guilty, though. You knew you were being selfish. So you swallowed your pride and turned to him. “You can have feelings, they’re valid,” you stated, because even when this was the worst to ever happen to you, you knew Tom. And after all, he was a friend. And accepting he had feelings was probably a huge step. “But sometimes you just have to accept that it can’t be and that some feelings you’ve got to keep it to yourself, love someone from a distance and eventually get over it because you know they won’t be happy with you. Or that it’s not possible to be reciprocated.”

Tom fiddled with a napkin, quietly.

“It sucks,” you shrugged. “Unrequited love is possibly the slowest way to die,” you said to him, he was trying to avoid your glance, and then it was the most Tom he had ever been in a while, hiding whatever he was thinking. “Especially when it involves your best friend's happiness,” you stated.

He only looked up then clenched his jaw, “You’re still angry at me?”

You shrugged. “'I'm not sure if I want to be friends with someone who can easily betray his best friend,” you said with poison.

Tom rolled his eyes. “You’re being-”

“Overdramatic? Maybe,” you said. “But… We will talk about it later, alright? And I really…” You shook your head. “We might as well… Pretend we are okay, alright?”

Tom just stared into your eyes. “Pretend—”

“I don’t want them thinking we had a fight, or anything so I’ll go back to acting like I usually do, alright?”

Tom seemed confused by your statement. “But-”

“So let’s just pretend we are still friends and—” You couldn’t even begin to understand what you were telling him.

“But we are?” Tom frowned.

“Yeah, no I mean… I just don’t want them to...think we had a fight so I’ll start acting normal, okay?” You turned to him with a smile, the fakest smile you could pull. “So, go on stage and good luck, alright?” You pinched his cheek, jokingly.

Tom didn’t move. He frowned. “So you can easily just bullshit this all through?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “We can’t let them know we are not-”

“Well why-”

“Just pretend, Thomas, it’s not that difficult, besides, you said it, we are friends, aren’t we?” You didn’t mean to be rude but it seemed that today it was the only thing you could be.

Tom sighed.

“But I mean it, good luck, you’re gonna kill them,” you placed a hand on his shoulder.

Tom didn’t give you any reaction.

“Come on, now, chop chop!” You clapped your hands. “Go on stage! It’s time,” you grinned, you took his hand and dragged him to the small stage your nana, Andrew, Kat and you had set up for them. Harry and Kat were staring into each other’s eyes or whatever adorable shit they always came up with. Tom gave them a second glance. You saw it. He was hurt.

What the hell were you supposed to do? Support him in his stupid heartbreak when his feelings were so stupidly and arrogantly selfish? Support him when you were broken-hearted yourself?

You had to, because…He was a friend. First and foremost. “No, no, now smile,” you made him look at you. “Go on, good luck, break a leg,” you said before kissing his cheek, leaving your lips tattooed on bright red. Tom was confused by the matters of it but before he could question you, you pushed him up the stage and went to take your seat with Andrew.

Kat joined you shortly after. You only smiled at her. Hoping both Andrew and Kat would buy the con you’d try to pull. To pretend you’re friends with Tom as if he hadn’t broken your heart merely moments ago.

And before you knew it, they had started playing. This had probably not been how you had expected summer to end, not with an ache growing in your chest and your eyes fighting not to cry. But Pandora’s Sign was officially playing for people. Actual people, and that was good enough to forget your heartbreak. For a bit, at least. Tom and Harry had a band that people who weren’t Kat Andrew or you were listening to and it held a promise that would be fulfilled.

Nick had come, he’d brought in some friends as he said he would. He had smiled at you, with a smile that also seemed to hold a promise, but you ignored it.

At least their music had managed to bring the happiness back to the friend group, a happiness that you were sure nothing would be able to break. Even when the music ended, it seemed that the applause had been just eager enough. You even went past the need of ignoring Tom, and for a moment you didn’t pretend and ran to hug him.

Everything was going perfect. Besides, Kat had made the band t-shirts with the logo she’d designed. Pandora holding a hawkshead flower. So delicately designed for them. It was perfect. Picture perfect. And so a picture was taken, to capture the happiness that the five of you never wanted to let go off.

And your heartbreak had been pushed aside, and you’d hugged Andrew, and Tom and Harry and Kat. Knowing that the happiness would preserve. Because you knew that although the summer wasn’t made for romance, maybe it had been for a friendship. And, although the summer was ending, your story was barely beginning.

↳ read Kat’s version here and Tom’s conversation with Kat. (Harry fic)

@rayofsunshine-28 @millennial-teenybopper @spideyspeaches @spideyspeaches @sleepingdancer @sippin-on-tea @countingstarsmylove i’ll tag everyone from perennial

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liberty-barnes · 4 years

Text

The Swear Jar

Part 1 of The Jar Series

Mob Boss!Tom Holland x Single Mom!Reader

Prompt: “I've never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life”

Warnings: swearing obviously, Tom’s a mob boss so there’s that, there’s like, one sexual innuendo but also ??? not really??? idk

Word Count: 4k (i really need to learn to write short things)

Estimated Reading Time: 16 minutes

A/N: It’s the pic guys, I can’t help it.

Edit: Wow, you guys actually liked this! So since many of you asked, a part will be coming out soon, maybe more, we’ll see. So if you wanna be added to my “The Swear Jar” Taglist, just ask me or add yourself directly through the link in my bio!

Main Masterlist || Series Masterlist

The bell above the door to the diner chimed and you perked up, smiling brightly at the young teenage couple.

“Gracie! Stella! It’s so good to see you again!”

The girls greeted you with the same amount of enthusiasm and proceeded to order their usual meal.

“Your hair’s really pretty Stella! You look like a mermaid now!”

“Thanks, Millie! I took your advice and went with blue instead of purple.”

The young girl smiled and captured the couple’s attention by showcasing her current work in progress.

Millicent Rose (Y/l/n) was your five-year-old daughter. She had brown hair, falling on her shoulders in nice large curls, and big (y/e/c) eyes, a perfect match to yours. She loved drawing (the diner walls were crawling with her masterpieces) and pretty hair, especially if it was soft.

Her bubbly and fearless personality sometimes frightened you, but you mostly came to terms with the fact that your daughter was a social butterfly and took full advantage of the small diner to interact with as many people as she could.

You watched with a fond smile as Millie explained what she had been drawing to the girls, mentioning every little detail while they praised her good work. The young brunette had a gift to make anyone love her.

Soon enough, their large milkshake to share was finished and Lou, the owner and cook, was all done with the food so the girls sat down at a booth and Millie went back to drawing, little feet dangling off the chair and little brows furrowed in concentration.

As you were refiling Mr and Mrs Lee’s drinks, the bell chimed once more and four men walked in dressed in stylish suits, much too fancy for this place. They sat down at a booth and started talking while you took a deep calming breath.

Oh, fuck me.

You took your notepad and walked over to them, a much too fake smile on your face.

“Good morning gentlemen, what can I get you?”

The table quieted down and you made eye contact with who you knew to be the leader.

“I’ll have a burger with fries and a strawberry milkshake.”

One of the twins said.

“I’ll have the same but with a chocolate milkshake instead.”

The other one added.

“Vegi burger and a coke, please.”

At least the blonde one had some manners.

Your eyes lifted from the notepad to the leader once again.

“And for you?”

You did your best to ignore the slight tremble in your voice.

“Bacon cheeseburger, fries and a coke, darling.”

“Right away.”

You got out of there as soon as possible, sparing a glance at your daughter to make sure she was still sitting at the counter before entering the kitchen with a panicked expression on your face.

“Lou…”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“You’ve got an order… for the Hollands…”

“Well, shit.”

The Holland family was the oldest and most successful mob in London, extremely rich, dangerous, and seemingly untouchable.

Harry and Sam Holland, the twins, were rumoured to have been behind the Burtons’ death, another famous family known for drug trafficking and other crimes.

Harrison Osterfield, the second in command, was a close family friend, accused of drug trafficking, illegal weapons selling, and other such crimes, though the charges all dropped before the first hearing even took place.

And finally, Thomas Holland, the leader. Arrested for multiple murders, arson, extortion, and a long list of other felonies, but never convicted.

Everyone was scared of them, and the fact that they were eating here was not good for business.

You ignored the tightness in your chest in favour of helping Lou prepare their food, hoping to do it as fast as possible so the group could leave.

Meanwhile, at the booth, Tom was rolling his eyes at his brothers and friend’s stupidity.

“Okay, we get it, she’s hot, but you don’t have to talk about it all the fucking time.”

Millie turned her head in their direction and scowled. She stretched a bit to the other side of the counter to take the transparent jar and got down from her chair, making her way to their booth, stomping a bit, which made her Sketchers light up.

The diner watched with curious (and slightly frightened, for the Lees) eyes as the little girl climbed onto the booth next to Harrison, one leg after the other, and kneeled next to the blonde, setting her elbow on the table and stretching so the transparent jar was now sitting in front of Tom.

He looked at it: a lid-less mason jar with a pink bow and right in the front, in a child’s handwriting and pink glittery letters were the words 'Swear Jar’.

“You owe a pound.”

He lifted his head to look at the girl.

“I beg your pardon?”

“When someone says a bad word they have to put a pound in the jar. You said a bad word so you owe a pound.”

“I’ve never said a single fucking swear word in my whole damn life!”

“That’s two more so you have to put three pounds in.”

“Yeah, Tom, put the money in.”

Harrison had his arms around the girl and a smug smile on his face, evidently taking a liking to the young brunette.

“Shut the fuck up Haz, you curse more than I do!”

“Four.”

“Shit.”

That one was not on purpose.

“Five.”

“Okay, okay, jeez, hold on.”

He took out his wallet and took his only five-dollar bill amid all the hundreds.

“Just gonna put the money in this stupid jar.”

“Six.”

“Wha- stupid’s not a swear word!”

“I’m not allowed to say it so yes, it is.”

Tom rummaged around his wallet for a stray pound, reluctantly putting a hundred in after finding nothing.

“Does that mean I’m allowed to say ninety-nine swear words?”

“No paying in advance, everything that’s not the money you owe is a donation.”

“To what foundation?”

“The ‘get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation”

She answered with a smirk and everyone -bar Tom- was pretty much crying at seeing their boss be told what to do by a five-year-old.

“Man, you are so screwed!”

“That’s one pound for you, Mister!”

“Oh shit, right!”

“Two…”

Harry took out his wallet (still laughing his arse off, mind you) and didn’t even try to look for the two pounds, simply putting in a hundred.

Millie’s eyes were focused solely on Tom’s hair. She climbed on top of Harrison, her pink tulle skirt flying behind her and stood on the seat next to the brunette, her hands immediately flying to his hair.

“You have very pretty hair. It’s really soft.”

“Thank you, darling.”

She hummed and kept playing with the soft strands.

“My name’s Tom, and these are my twin brothers Harry and Sam, and my best friend, Haz.”

She looked around for a while, not answering, seemingly lost in thought until she looked back at him and her sparkling (y/e/c) eyes focused on his brown ones.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy. I’m Millie.”

“T-Tommy?”

Sam stuttered out between peels of laughter.

“I don’t like Tom, Tommy’s better. Why are you so shocked Twin Nice?”

Harry looked appalled.

“Why's he Twin Nice?”

“Because you said a bad word and he didn’t, so he’s Twin Nice and you’re Twin Naughty.”

Sam did a little victory dance, bragging about his new nickname to his twin.

The little girl sat down on Tom’s lap and started to play with the black ring on his finger.

“What am I, then?”

She looked up to Harrison from in between Tom’s fingers, still playing with the thick band.

“You’re Thor cause you have pretty eyes and you look really strong.”

To say that the blonde was pleased would be an understatement.

“You, little lady, are my new best friend. We need to come here more often.”

Millie smiled and went back to observing the ring.

“Does this mean you’re married?”

Tom chuckled and shook his head slightly.

“No, it means that I’m a part of the Holland family, like them.”

Everyone around the table showed theirs, a symbol of their high status in the mob.

“So you don’t have a girlfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Do you live with your mommy?”

“No, I live with these dumbasses in a big house.”

She pushed the swear jar towards him and gave him what could only be described as the 'Disappointed Mom’ look.

“Do you like it?”

“Kind of, sometimes they get on my nerves and I wish they’d rot in Hell, but yeah, it’s not too bad.”

She slapped his hand in reprimand and he internally cursed himself.

“Don’t you miss your mommy?”

“A little, but I see my parents every Sunday for family dinner.”

He answered after placing yet another bill in the jar.

“Parents?”

“Yeah, my mum and dad.”

She hummed.

“I wish I had a dad.”

The boys all stiffened.

Well, that escalated quickly.

Tom cleared his throat, measuring his words before speaking, for once in his life.

“Do you know what happened to your dad?”

“Mommy says he left cause he wasn’t good like her. She says it’s okay, though, cause we only need each other but my friend Lilly has a mommy and a daddy and she told me that sometimes when her mommy’s sad or tired he’ll do all the grown-up stuff like cook and read her a story while her mommy rests and she’s happier that way. I want my mommy to be happy like that too.”

For Tom, it felt like his cold, dead heart was starting to beat again. This little angel sitting on his lap was asking for something most children already had, not for herself, but for her mother.

“You’re a really good person, Millie.”

“If you stopped saying so many bad words you’d be one too, Tommy.”

The boys laughed yet again and they continued talking for a little while, refraining from any work-related issues for the sake of their newest addition, choosing instead to discuss sports and fighting over who’d be on cleaning duty that Sunday. Three more bills made their way to the jar during that particular discussion, one from each boy (bar Sam because he was on cooking duty, as always), and for once they allowed themselves to relax and simply be, instead of always worrying.

You got out of the kitchen with the men’s orders ready and looked at the end of the counter, planning to check on Millie before walking over to the mobsters’ table. Your brows furrowed when you didn’t find her and you immediately looked towards the girls’ table or the Lees’, finding she wasn’t there either.

“Mommy, over here!”

You followed your child’s voice and your eyes widened once you saw her sitting on the leader’s lap. The smiling leader’s lap.

You quickly made your way to their booth, placing their orders in front of them without even taking your eyes off your daughter.

“Millicent Rose! What have I told you about bothering people when they’re in their booths?”

She looked guilty for half a second but immediately perked up again, ready to defend herself.

“Not to, but Mommy, he said a bad word so I had to take the swear jar to him.”

“And why, pray tell, are you sitting in the gentleman’s lap?”

“His name’s Tommy and he said he didn’t mind and this way I can talk to Thor, Twin Nice and Twin Naughty better.”

Tommy, Thor, Twin Nice, and Twin Naughty?

“Oh, fuck me.”

Millie’s jaw dropped open. She’d never heard you swear before.

“You owe a pound, Mommy.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

You pulled a pound from your pocket and put it in, eyes widening at the amount of money in the jar.

“How in the world?”

“I didn’t have singles so I just put hundreds in. Apparently, it’s a donation to the 'Get Millie new glitter pens’ foundation.”

You set the jar down and shook your head in disbelief.

“I am never letting Harley babysit you ever again.”

She pouted and slumped down, arms crossed adorably in front of her.

“Now come on, let the gentlemen eat their lunch in peace and come get yours.”

She cuddled up to Tom more than before, burying her head in his chest and fisting his shirt, and shaking her head in protest.

“Millie, come on, let’s go. I’m so sorry for the bother sir.”

“It’s no problem, she’s welcome to say for however long she wants.”

The brunette smiled at your daughter and then at you, before the man on his right interrupted.

“Besides, she’s very entertaining. It’s nice to see someone else call Tom out on his bullshit.”

You and Millie threw the blonde matching glares while Tom just pushed the jar towards him.

“You owe a pound, Haz”

“Excuse you Tommy, my name’s Thor.”

He then turned to you with a smug smile and attitude.

“Cause I have pretty eyes like him and look very strong. Don’t you agree with your daughter… (Y/n)?”

He read your name tag and smiled charmingly while you pursed your lips, looking him up and down. You then looked at your little girl.

“You sure?”

“Well, who else has pretty blue eyes?”

“Captain America.”

She light up right away and straightened herself.

“Right! And he looks like Captain America when he was tiny! Thanks, Mommy!”

She then turned to Harrison with a gigantic smile on her face.

“You’re Tiny America now.”

The whole table -bar Haz- laughed and you had to bite your lip not to laugh too, instead linking your hands and looking at the clock.

“Come on Millie, it’s time to eat.”

“Can I eat here with Tommy, please?”

“If you eat here with Tommy I won’t be able to make sure you eat your veggies.”

The man’s heart stuttered when you used his nickname, a strange sense of happiness overcoming him.

“Tommy can check.”

“Mm… I’m not sure if he can check you ate them. He’s not used to your sneakiness.”

“What if I pinky promise to eat my veggies and eat a banana for dessert instead of ice cream?”

It was a struggle to get her to eat fruits and veggies. You usually had to settle for one or the other, so when she spontaneously decided to eat both, you jumped at the opportunity, mob be damned.

“Deal! But no annoying the boys.”

She smiled and nodded, settling comfortably on Tom’s lap, waiting for her food. You took out her plate of chicken nuggets, fries, and green beans, chocolate milkshake to wash it down.

You tried not to let the butterflies in your stomach distract you from your job but the way Tom smiled at your daughter and praised her when she ate all her veggies in a row, wanting to get it over with, made your heart ache, the longing for someone still very much present.

“Have a nice meal.”

You made eye contact with the brunette and blushed at the smile he sent you before waving goodbye at the Lees. The teenage couple had left a bit earlier so the mobsters were now your last customers of the day.

You wiped the kitchen counters and said goodbye to Lou, assuring him that you’d close up by yourself. As soon as he left, you took a deep breath and sighed, unable to stop your smile when you heard your daughter’s laugh carrying through the wall separating you from the group.

“Mommy, we’re done!”

You straightened up and schooled your features before walking over to them, taking away their plates while asking if Millie behaved and if they wanted dessert. The answer to both questions was a yes and so you came back a little while later with chocolate pudding for the twins, caramel ice cream for Harrison, a banana split for Tom, and a miniature one for Millie.

“Since you behaved so nicely you get a little sweetness with your banana.”

Her eyes sparkled and she smiled brightly at you.

“You’re the best mommy ever! I love you!”

“Love you too, baby.”

You turned around, ready to leave, when a voice stopped you.

“Why don’t you sit down with us for a bit? I’m pretty sure that if you wipe that table down one more time you’ll remove the paint.”

You blushed but complied, sitting down next to Harrison and watching as your daughter ate her dessert quickly and quietly, wincing from time to time because of brain freezes. As soon as she was done, she reached for Tom’s right hand. He switched the hand that held the spoon, eating with his left so that Millie could play with the ring on his finger.

Unfortunately for him, he had a bit of trouble eating with his non-dominant hand while holding a child on his lap, leading to a bit of ice cream falling on his shirt.

“Ah, fu-”

You shot him a glare that made him change courses immediately.

“-dge. Fudge.”

Millie clapped and gave him a big, approving smile.

“See, Mommy? He’s making progress!”

“Indeed he is, darling.”

“Oh, this is fucking hilarious!”

The young girl gasped, mouth open comically wide and utter betrayal swimming in her eyes.

“I thought you were nice.”

Sam realized his mistake as soon as she spoke, covering his mouth with his hand as if to stop any more of the offending words from leaving it.

“You owe five pounds.”

“What? Why? I only said one swear word!”

She shook her head in disapproval, arms crossed in front of her chest, and pushed the jar towards him.

“You made me believe you were nice so your trickster-y will cost you four extra pounds.”

You shook your head, smile firmly plastered on your face as you watched Sam pull out a hundred dollar bill with a pout on his lips. It was quite endearing, really.

“So, (Y/n), tell us about you.”

You locked eyes with the brunette once again, piercing gaze seemingly looking through you.

“I’m afraid there’s not much to tell, Mr Holland. I’m not a very interesting person.”

Your voice was soft, your words calculated. You knew that these men could kill you in the blink of an eye.

“No uninteresting person could have raised such a perfect little angel.”

He smirked and Millie looked at you with a smug smile.

“See, he said I was an angel.”

Life be damned, it’s not worth living if your daughter has an ego the size of Russia. That would most definitely come back to bite you in the ass.

“Yeah, that’s cause he hasn’t had to deal with you in all your nightly glory.”

She put her tongue out and snuggled deeper into Tom’s chest.

“Well, for one, how did you find yourself working here?”

He got the conversation back on you and you felt slightly intimidated with the whole table’s eyes on little old you.

“Customers are nice, I earn enough money for us to get by, owner’s nice, the school’s at the end of the street, and Millie gets to stay with me when she’s not there.”

Even though he was focused on you, you noticed the way he held your daughter close to his chest, his bigger frame completely enveloping her smaller one. She still hadn’t let go of his hand and kept playing with the ring on his finger. Seeing how calm and caring he was being with your daughter calmed you down and the more questions you answered, the more comfortable you became.

“How can you work at a dinner and not like vanilla milkshakes?”

Sam looked horrified at that, and you just shrugged dismissively.

“I never really liked when vanilla was too present. Like, if you used it to just enhance everything else you know, make it taste better, then sure, but just vanilla isn’t really my style.”

Tom took a sharp breath in and tried to stop his mind from wandering at the possible double meaning of your words. Instead, he chose to focus on the little girl on his lap.

Until he noticed she was asleep, that is.

He smiled a little and shifted her so she was resting more comfortably on his lap. Unfortunately for him, that caught your attention.

“Oh my, is she asleep? I’m really sorry.”

“No worries, though we should probably get her to bed so she doesn’t wake up with a stiff neck.”

For the umpteenth time, you pushed down the butterflies upon hearing him say 'we’ and being so careful with your daughter.

You took the remaining dishes and went to the kitchen, putting them in the wash and turning on the machine, leaving it to run so tomorrow morning you’d be able to put everything away. You went back in to clean the booth and Tom practically shoved a hundred dollar bill in your hand, ignoring your protests.

He waited for you by the door while you finished closing up, and you extended your arms towards him when you finished.

“Thank you for everything today, but you must be getting tired, I can take her from here.”

He gently pushed your arms down.

“Let me take you home, please, I don’t like the idea of you having to carry her all on your own.”

You hesitantly nodded and he guided you to his car. It’s only then that you noticed the other three had left. You settled on the passenger side of his black Audi and he handed you Millie, closing the door softly as to not startle her. He then entered the driver’s side and started the car. You gave him directions to your apartment building and within five minutes, he parked the car right out front.

Ever the gentleman, he insisted on carrying the little girl. Knowing by now that there wasn’t much you could do to protest, you agreed and led him up the four flights of stairs to your door.

“Sorry 'bout the mess.”

“It’s no problem, darling, I quite like it.”

You turned your head for a brief second, as if asking him to elaborate while still leading him to your daughter’s room.

“The fact that it’s messy means that someone lives here, that this isn’t just some house, it’s a home. My house is always pristine but that’s because no one’s ever there to actually use it as something other than a glorified B&B.”

He laid Millie down on the bed and you pulled the covers over her. You both stood side to side for a little while, just watching her breathe.

“That sounds really lonely.”

“Yeah…”

Another minute passed by with no words coming from either of you.

“You raised an amazing daughter, (Y/n).”

“You’re a good man, Tom.”

Hearing those unfamiliar words coming out of your mouth almost brought tears to his eyes. He was always used to being called a ruthless mobster, cold-blooded killer, or many other names that all meant the same thing: monster. But you called him a good man, and the sincerity in your voice was almost overwhelming.

He cleared his throat and straightened up, making you turn towards him.

“I should probably go… You should get some rest as well.”

You nodded and walked him to the door. In a split-second decision, you leaned up and kissed his cheek, locking eyes with him afterwards.

“If you ever need an escape, or just wanna hang out somewhere different, our door’s always open.”

That made a smile take over his face and he kissed your forehead.

“Thank you, darling.”

And as you watched him round the corner, only your back visible to you, you couldn’t help but feel like this wouldn’t be the last time you ever saw Tom Holland.

i have mixed feelings concerning this story but at least i have ideas for a part two (if i ever decide to make one)

don’t forget to reblog, comment or like if you feel like it <3

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