#on the nose? maybe - but you could say greatly influential to his life

[miladylocksley]

Not Unless You Wish It, Ch. 8

As promised, this one is for you, @evilqueens. Thank you for the love you’ve shown this fic, it means so so much to me! 

Robin, still recovering from the death of his wife, mistakenly steals a lamp from the King and releases the genie trapped inside. A woman. A stunning, captivating, and heartbroken woman. He vows to help her escape her prison and find happiness, not knowing that his own is closer than he realizes.

Previous chapters

ff.net 

Securing a meeting with Robin’s parents had been no easy task. Their reaction being impossible to predict, Robin couldn’t risk simply showing up years after his disappearance and presumed death. Regina had taken it upon herself to send a letter first, announcing his return and petitioning for a family reunion. Robin had been reluctant to allow Regina to mention Roland in the letter.

“Won’t it seem like I’m only after their money for my son’s sake?”

“Of course it will. That’s the point. They’ll believe you desperate enough to reach out to them and will use that to bargain when it comes to Roland’s upbringing.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of,” he murmured.

“You shouldn’t be. We want them to think they have the upper hand. To be so confident in your need for their help. But once they see Roland and the potential to keep the Locksley name on top, they will desire it. And once they see that they’re simply an option, they’ll do anything.” She came closer and took both of his hands in hers. “Trust me,” she implored.

He sighed and tilted his head slightly, looking at her in disbelief. “I do. You know I do.”

Robin’s parents had made an effort not to show their curiosity in their response, but Regina saw through their intentions well enough. They were more enthusiastic to meet Roland than they were to see their son again. Regina was irritated by the fact, but not surprised.

She was well-versed in cold parenting. Or no parenting at all. She had witnessed it, if not been its victim. Still, sometimes she wished she’d been left to her own devices the way Robin had. His parents may have frowned upon his lifestyle and choice of bride, but at least both his men and Marian’s lives had been spared. Regina hadn’t been so lucky.

She wondered what it would have been like to have an indifferent mother rather than a controlling one. She wondered what it would have been like to have her sister’s mother. Her sister had loathed Cora’s carelessness, but maybe, like Robin, leaving had allowed her to find people who cared for her. Loved her. People who wouldn’t abandon her like she herself had done to Regina.

(Did anyone resent Robin for leaving? Had he left anyone behind?)

She was prepared for the dreaded meeting. She had used her magic to create an elaborate, yet elegant, dress to present herself as Robin’s patron, filthy rich and influential. She had dressed Robin in soft, lustrous fabrics and laces befitting his rank. Roland had the advantage of youth, which would forgive him a more simple attire. She had also transformed the Merry Men into clean and respectable soldiers and advisers of her retinue.  

The illusion was crafted to perfection. She had only to hope that Robin would play along for as long as necessary. After all, it was for their son’s future that they marched.

As she had anticipated, Robin’s parents’ manor and courtyard had been cleared of all courtiers so their arrival could be inconspicuous and their encounter kept secret in case an agreement wasn’t reached. The negotiations began with stiff remarks and little compromise on his parents’ side, but Regina had expected as much. They were however surprised by her appearance. No doubt, they had expected a young and foolish noble woman, head over heels for their son, and marching along to his every whim. Instead, they had been presented to an heiress who had offered her help to a strapping and handsome man, without much cost or inconvenience to her.

It seemed evident that she wasn’t doing Robin’s bidding, but rather that he’d put his fate into her hands. Regina had planned it that way. Robin’s parents responded more promptly to her status, at least the appearance of one, than to their son and grandson’s pleas. She knew well enough how people like these were to be handled; she had seen her mother do so with countless genies in the past. Strength responded to strength, and Regina outranked them.

If only they knew how.

She did most of the talking, which pleased Robin’s parents greatly. Robin only intervened when there came talk of Roland’s introduction as their heir.

“We cannot guarantee when it might happen before we see the boy’s progress,” his mother said. “He is but a child, and who knows what manner of reprehensible behaviour he might pick up from you.”

“Roland will be raised in my court,” Regina lied. “He will receive ever instruction that you deem necessary, I assure you.”

“Well then, once the boy reaches maturity, he can return and claim his title.”

“No,” Robin insisted. “We give our word now that your grandson will be raised to deserve the title. We need some show of good faith from you.”

“Good faith? You are lucky we even agreed to this much after you humiliated us,” his father shouted.

“How exactly did I do that? You were quick to fake my death.”

“We had the quick thinking to do so. You, however, didn’t extend that courtesy. You would have left us to explain to everyone how our only son and heir had run away to live in the woods like a peasant,” his mother spit. “Ungrateful is what you’ve always been and I’m not sure I can have faith that your son will be any different.”  

“Lady Locksley,” Regina said, as she put her hand on Robin’s arm. Don’t say a word, her eyes whispered. “Your son may be ungrateful, but I most certainly am not. Roland will hear what you have done for him today and I will make sure he knows his life will be all due to you.”

Robin’s mother was reluctant to argue further. Perhaps she also considered that Regina wouldn’t remain by her son’s side forever. She would grow bored soon enough and resent looking after someone else’s brat.  

“Very well. He will be presented when he reaches his tenth birthday.”

“Ten? That’s years away,” Robin angrily replied.

“That’s my offer,” she said calmly. “And, after he reaches his tenth birthday, he is to spend summers with us, cultivating relations here and at court.”

Regina stepped in before Robin could refuse his mother’s proposal. “That is a generous offer. I accept. As does Robin,” she added turning towards him. She tried to convey to him with one look that this was better than he could have hoped for.

Reluctantly, he nodded.  

.

.

.

Many a toast was made in Roland’s honor and ale drunk to his good health, though he couldn’t possibly understand the implications nor, Regina thought, did the men realize the role they would play in shaping their future lord. With Roland in charge, would they stop being outlaws? Did they know how to be anything other than criminals? Outcasts? They weren’t from noble stock like Robin. In fact, their departure had been delayed by loud laughter and teasing directed at their intrepid leader when they saw him in tights, soft velvet, and gold lace.

It had taken much convincing on her part for Robin to agree to such garments. She’d never seen him so uncomfortable, but to appease his parents was vital to the mission and to flatter their delicate sensibilities, necessary. Had Robin marched to the gates dressed like a bandit, he’d have been turned away.

The guards, new ones since his escape, hadn’t recognized him and his parents had faked just the right amount of shock at his miraculous return. With Robin’s grand entrance into the manor, in front of countless nobles, with a young child clinging to him, no one could deny the lawful heir. They’d planned it so. The nobles might have turned their noses up at Robin, who, all evidence pointed, had been rescued from his accident and raised in the woods by gods knew whom, but his son, who they had reason to believe would receive his grand parents’ attention, his son could be a remarkable lord indeed.

The nobles were placated by Roland’s quiet and polite demeanor and Robin’s parents had received assurances that his son would be taught all that was expected of one of their class and standing. After all, Robin may have turned his back on them, but there was no denying that their teachings had been numerous and not so easily forgotten. They had been pleased at that.

As they had been at meeting Regina, a princess from a faraway land with riches in abundance and the luxury of a youthful affair with a poor woodsman for no other inducements than fleeting love. Her manners and haughtiness, the likes of which would have made Cora proud, had spoken of her royal blood. Robin’s parents’ suspicions had been quieted when they had observed how Roland hung on her every word.

Who better to raise their grandson than a future sovereign? A sovereign with misguided affections towards their son, perhaps, but who at least had the good sense not to marry him. They were satisfied.

Roland’s education would be taken care of with no great exertion on their part. They were certain Robin wouldn’t interfere in Roland’s grooming if the lovesick way in which he kept glancing at the princess was any indication. Robin’s parents didn’t at all mind trespassing on Regina’s generosity. Her feelings for Robin would vanish in time and he would go back to being a nobody, but Roland will have already gained knowledge and poise that Robin surely couldn’t teach him.

Their whole party left after lengthy discussions and an agreement that Roland, once he reached his tenth year, wouldn’t be properly presented at court until his grandparents deemed him ready first. That meant lessons upon lessons ranging from table manners to military tactics.

Regina had assisted enough battle preparations during the war, with Cora and her second-in-command, Emma’s mother, to learn plenty about strategy. Of course, back then, the general’s ice magic combined with Cora’s proclivity for fire gave them an unfair advantage (and so it had been, before the gods meddled in affairs they shouldn’t have and sided with the weaker side, the one less threatening). Her own magic couldn’t help them now, as Regina well knew Roland wouldn’t have access to it forever.

The wish wouldn’t be complete until Robin’s parents named Roland as their heir. Officially. They still had years of preparation until he would be ready to be presented to the people. Years until Robin’s final wish. What then? She dreaded the thought.

But she knew Robin could teach Roland, maybe not as well as she, but decently enough. He must have learned how to behave among nobility for almost two decades. And he certainly knew the landscape of Locksley, and beyond, better than she did. He had tracking skills and a mind for deception, disinclined though he was to use it — dishonorable, he would say. Ironic for a thief — which would make him invaluable to Roland, despite what his parents thought.  

Robin may have shied away from the life his parents had wanted him to pursue, but he was a born leader, a fair leader. A leader who didn’t want the most coveted seat at the table and who was more than willing to hand over the reins to someone worthier, which made him all the more deserving of the title.

(Would she have been a worthy ruler? Had she been given the chance?)

As the day was winding down, the men kept their high spirits. Musical instruments were taken out and dances cried for. Roland was already jumping around when Robin, after a well-deserved wardrobe change, claimed a seat beside her.

“Why aren’t you celebrating?” she asked.

“Ten,” he said. “That’s too many years away.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you wanted time with Roland. That you didn’t want your parents’ influence. A few summers before he is of age is nothing compared to what you feared.”

“I know. But,” he sighed before looking at her, “it’s years that you have no choice but to remain here.”

She couldn’t respond. He had been thinking of her?

“But I’m not ungrateful,” he added. “It’s a better outcome than I imagined. Thank you.”

“I didn’t do much,” she said, still unable to meet his eyes.  

“Still more than you know. I’m glad Roland will have you to show him the grace of nobility,” he said with only slight teasing.

“You may regret that statement.”

Before he could ask, she requested a waltz be played. Tuck stroked his mandolin. Robin groaned.  

“Your parents will expect exemplary court etiquette,” she pointed out.

“I was never a role model for such things,” he responded.

“Luckily, I was. Lesson one, Sir Roland,” she said, calling out the boy who promptly came to her side, “dancing. Political alliances in quiet council chambers are boring; the best deals are made over lively music and champagne filled bellies. May I have this dance, my lord?”

“Certainly, m’lady,” Roland said, bowing a little too low.

Regina took his extended hand and showed him the proper posture. “One slow step forward, then two quick ones. Turn, and begin again. Like so, one, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three.”

Garland joined in with his flute, surprisingly following the steps along.

“You’ll make a posh gentleman out of him yet,” Robin said after three dances and the improvement of Roland’s skills.

“And you?” she asked Robin. “When your son throws elegant balls, will you embarrass him and hide in a corner or make an attempt on the dance floor and risk even further embarrassment?”

“I am an exceedingly gifted dancer. I will have you know that I’ve always been an excellent, albeit reluctant, student.”

“Is that so? Care to demonstrate?” she challenged, standing in the middle of their makeshift dance floor in the middle of the camp, surrounded by the men hollering and Roland eagerly clapping.

“I’d like nothing more, your majesty,” he bowed and kissed her hand. She rolled her eyes.

He came towards her and pulled her into the dance, one hand on her waist, the other on her shoulder, and his fingers playing with her hair.

The waltz slowed to a soothing melody. It reminded her of one of those romantic ones Daniel used to hum to her when they’d needed to be quiet, dreaming that one day they would dance like this in their own home away from prying eyes. That future she’d imagined never came to be and she’d stopped believing she could ever want it again. But now, swaying in Robin’s arms, his hands on her hips and his neck a tantalizing breath away, she wouldn’t be anywhere else.

The song began to crescendo and his arms linked behind her back to lift her up effortlessly. Her feet bumped gently against his legs and her eyes could see the top of his head, though not for long, as he glanced up and kept his eyes firmly on hers. His gaze was too full of words ready to burst, words she’d lose herself in, that she couldn’t stop herself from resting her forehead against his as she came back down and basking in the scent of sandalwood and smoke. He smelled like the forest he called home, yet she would know him anywhere even among the trees. He smelled like the rain-soaked earth, warm, yet invigorating, like grass and late summer apricots, and just a hint of whiskey. A smell so divine, to taste it would be to never desire anything else.

“You were right. You’re a marvellous dancer,” she said as they began a second, slower dance.

“So I’ve been told.” She huffed at this display of modesty. “But now I’m sure it must be so. I couldn’t imagine you lying about it to spare my feelings.”

“Not a chance,” she agreed. “Although I suppose you should get used to insincere praise now you’re re-entering the sophisticated world of the gentility.”

“Don’t remind me. At least I know my friends won’t inflate my ego just because of my bloody name.” He threw his head back in annoyance at the idea that this wouldn’t apply to his other acquaintances. But his eyes were calm and his smile back when he looked at her again. “And neither will you.”

Regina stayed silent a moment, contemplating his words.

“Aren’t we? Friends?” she asked.

“We can be anything you want us to be, milady,” he whispered with such longing the likes of which she hadn’t heard in the time she’d know him. Would that she may hear it again. “Is that what you want?”

What did she want? Oh Gods, Regina wasn’t sure she had ever allowed to ask herself that question. It had never been about her wants, her desires. No, she had been brought up to put those aside. Never think of yourself, her mother would say. All she had known was a life of servitude, of duty; first to her kingdom and her people, then to her masters. But it didn’t feel that way now. Being around Robin, she felt more like… a partner, rather than a slave. An equal. A friend. Yes, she liked that word.

(But what did she want?)

“It’s more than I could ask for,” Robin reassured before she could give an answer.

A small smile curved up Regina’s lips. What did she want?  

The dance was soon over. Too soon. The men were clapping their hands and moving away to refill their mugs. Robin and Regina still had their arms around each other and kept swaying to the rustling of the leaves rather than the music. Robin looked away for a moment, long enough to see Roland sitting beside Will and enjoying a riveting tale.

“The music stopped,” Regina said when he looked at her once more.

“Indeed,” he nodded.

“We should stop dancing.”

“We should.”

“Remove your hands then,” she suggested coyly with one raised eyebrow.

Robin did. But instead of joining his crew, he asked, “Perhaps I could persuade you to a walk in the moonlight?”

“Perhaps,” Regina smiled.

As Robin grinned, he led her deeper into the forest and beyond the tents and murmurs of their companions. They walked leisurely, no words needed between them when their hands met of their own accord and acknowledged all that needed to be said.

“Thank you,” Robin said, breaking the silence, “for being patient with Roland. I expect he’ll be looking forward to his lessons if you’re his instructor.”

“Yes,” Regina sighed. But for how long?

“I’m sorry,” he said surprisingly. “I know you must look forward to being released.”

“Look forward to going back inside the lamp? To serve another master? No.” Then, with far more courage than she expected, she confessed, “I’d rather be here than with anyone else.”

“But it isn’t your first choice.”

“I haven’t had the luxury of choice in a very long time. Not when it comes to the future, my future, any kind of future that I could want.” She hadn’t had the opportunity to know what she truly wanted for centuries. She wasn’t certain of anything. Except maybe one thing. “But some things I can still decide for myself,” she whispered as she rose on the tips of her toes and pressed her lips to his.

Shock at her own actions quickly evaporated when she felt Robin’s lips respond to her touch. Her hands moved up his arms, exploring the muscles she’d imagined at night, while his fingers trailed through her hair. But she still longed for more; she hadn’t had this since before the war, since before she became a woman disillusioned with the world.

Back when she had met Daniel, they had both been so eager to fall in love and lose themselves to one another, so innocent and blind to the trials that awaited them. They had only sought an escape.

With Robin, it was different. Robin wasn’t a reckless infatuation. Robin wasn’t innocent. She hadn’t wanted to fall for him. She certainly hadn’t encouraged him to fall for her. But they had been undeniable.

Robin tugged at her hair when her hands slid down to his lower back and further. That prompted his tongue to taste her bottom lip and plead for entrance, which she was most willing to grant. They explored in every way possible: tongues over teeth, hands on waists and more daring still, and lips on necks. Regina spared a thought to the camp and prayed the gods they’d walked far enough for their moans not to be heard.

“Regina,” Robin gasped, “we should stop.”

“Why?” she asked, the sound muffled when spoken against his jaw.

“Because, mmm, I have to get back for my son’s bedtime.”

“Oh.” She stopped kissing him.

“And I’d really like to take my time,” he murmured against her lips.

“Oh?” He grinned cheekily before biting her lip. “Perhaps you can show me later tonight,” she rasped once they pulled apart.

“Perhaps.”

.:.

They laid in bed, their fingers and legs entwined, after hours of languorous kisses and whispered affections. In no rush for anything more.

“Regina?” he tentatively asked, kissing her bare shoulder, where her garment had slid down in their yearning to touch as much skin as propriety would allow.

“Hmm.”

“You refused to answer me once before, but please reconsider. What would it take for you to no longer have to do a master’s bidding?”

She pulled away from him, her hair cascading down the length of her face and arm, shielding her features from his inquiring gaze.

“You can trust me,” he pleaded. “I would not hurt you.”

“I’ve heard that before,” she mumbled, still too far away, still hidden.

“Not from me.”

She turned her heard long enough for him to see a single tear slide down her cheek. “I’ve known masters who have pledged their love to me. Swore to free me only to change their minds once they set their eyes on a different prize.”

“Free you how?” he asked again.

“Only a master has the power to free me,” she said, punctuating every word as if the answer should have been obvious. Whatever it was, he was willing to give it to her.  

“Then, I will.”

“Robin… you can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you have to wish it.”

“I do wish it,” he said emphatically. “I will.” He never wanted the damned wishes in the first place. He would give up the last one without a second thought.

“You won’t,” she insisted.

“I’d wish it now if I could. If I’d known, I would have wished it when we first met and found another way to give Roland his inheritance.”

“You couldn’t have. Your son’s future is what you want most. My magic was only able to make your wishes come true because they were what your heart truly desired when you made them. Those few who tried to wish for my freedom weren’t able to call upon my magic to do it. It wasn’t what they wanted. Not really. Just like it isn’t what you want.” She put her hand on his chest when he hurried closer ready to deny it. “What you desire most is me.”

“What I desire most is for you to choose me,” he said as he took her hand from where it still touched his skin and held it in both of his. “To no longer be tied to that blasted lamp and all it entails, to be able to do and be whoever the damn hell you please.” He kissed her hand. “And still want to be with me. Just as I want to be with you.”  

“I—”

“Please, believe me,” he implored.  

She allowed him to come closer and lay his forehead on her shoulder, his hands around on her waist. He wanted her more than he thought possible. He wanted her to want him back.

“I do,” she said. “Believe you.”

He felt her hands in his hair, gently pulling his head up and his mouth on hers. The kiss began as frenzied and wet, but eventually turned soft. They had time.  

“Since it looks like you’re going to be staying with us for longer than anticipated, the least I could do is allow you to decide what comes next for you,” Robin said.  

“Seems like a fair trade,” she said lightly, though he could see her eyes ablaze with the possibilities.

He shook his head, putting his hand on her flushed cheek. “On the contrary.”

[killer-barnes]

Jealous, Much?

Tom Holland x Reader

Request: Yes

Summary: The reader is jealous of Tom and Zendaya’s relationship. However, Tom is there to reassure them.

Word Count: 2,580

Warnings: language, fluff, jealous!reader, reassuring!tom.

A/N: Sorry this took long to post. I’m not sure of this one and felt a little weird writing it tbh, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Enjoy!

In the beginning of the relationship, Tom and you were inseparable. He wasn’t overwhelmed with several acting gigs like he is now. You both were able to sit and enjoy each other’s company without too many stresses.

However, that time spent together soon started to disappear. Tom began his Spider-Man film, while you continued your everyday job, trying to fit in as many hours as you could. Yes, it was a lot you were putting on yourself, but you honestly wanted to distract yourself from not being able to have Tom with you.

You missed him.

Tom has left in the past for certain acting gigs, but since Spider-Man is such a huge part in both the movie and his career, he’s limited to the time he gets to spend. Plus, it’s not always realistic to fly back and forth from wherever he’s at. You both understood that.

Calling, skyping, and texting became the norm for you both. But with the time difference and Tom’s crazy schedule, your nightly calls soon became once every two days or so calls. You weren’t necessarily angry, you more just wanted to hear his voice and know he is enjoying himself and the experience.

Not going to lie, some days it’s hard. You return from a very disruptive day at work and just want to snuggle the life out of him, but he isn’t there to do so. You try calling, but he’s either filming, in interviews, or getting any amount of sleep he can.

You knew a relationship with someone like this would be the outcome, obviously. But what you didn’t realize entirely was how bad the press and the lies they may foster into the media.

 That’s where it leads to what you’re doing now.

You were aimlessly scrolling through twitter, checking up on some of your favorite celebrities, when you land on a tweet that links to an article about Tom and his fellow cast mates of Spider-Man. Something catches your eye while reading Zendaya’s portion. You’ve met Zendaya a few times. She’s an amazing, strong woman, but you know she’s better than you.

At least that’s what you think.

While reading the article, you came across the author discussing whether Tom and Zendaya’s relationship “may be more than it actually is.” Knowing Tom could never do something like that behind your back, you close the article and continue to scroll through your twitter feed.

You end up seeing several photos of Tom and Zendaya hanging out and according to the caption, “looking too close for comfort.” It didn’t only piss you off, but make you realize how much better off Tom would be with Zendaya. She’s beautiful, smart, famous, active, influential, the list could go on forever.

You knew you shouldn’t be comparing yourself to someone like her, but you couldn’t help yourself. That’s why you started to envy Tom and Zendaya’s relationship. She was with him more than you have been in the past couple of months.

Angrily locking your phone, you set it on your nightstand and decide to take a nap to rid yourself of these destructive thoughts.

I miss you.

Hearing a loud vibrate that pulls you out of your dreaming, you see Tom’s name appear on the screen. Hitting the decline, you take a sigh and rub at your tires eyes. You knew you shouldn’t do this to him right now, but you were frustrated and couldn’t think of another way to maturely handle the situation. You didn’t want to burden Tom with these ridiculous thoughts. He already has enough on his plate.

Mid-thought, you hear your phone ding, signaling a text. Glancing towards it, you see a message from your boyfriend.

Tom: To Y/N

Hey, babe! Tried calling… guess you’re snoozing. I miss you and wanna hear your lovely voice!!

Smiling slightly at his message, you wait a couple minutes before replying trying to figure out what to say. You weren’t in a mood to talk, honestly. You might burst into tears if you hear anything. Dramatic much?

Y/N: To Tom

I’m not really up for it right now. Maybe tomorrow?

Not even a few seconds later, you get a reply.

Tom: To Y/N

:( Are you okay, love? I’m sorry we haven’t been talking much. Filming has been insane recently!

Deciding not to reply, you head to the bathroom to get ready for bed, seeing as it was night as you woke up from your long nap. After you settled yourself in bed, you shut off the light. Before shutting your eyes, another ding erupts from your phone.

Sleepily taking a glance, you see Tom’s final message for the night.

Tom: To Y/N

Sweet dreams, beautiful. I love you with all my heart.

That night, you allowed a few tears to slip from the corner of your eyes.

I love you, too.

Groggily waking up from your slumber, you trudge towards the bathroom and take a steamy, hot shower. Even though you did fall asleep, you felt like it wasn’t enough. You were drained from last night and it was wearing off onto today. Stepping into the shower, you quickly wash last night’s tears away and scrub your skin raw.

After getting ready, you head towards the kitchen and grab a random fruit from the fruit bowl resting on the counter top. Making sure to grab your essentials, you head out the door to your daily job, a barista at your local coffee shop just down the road from your apartment.

Your shift is in the early morning, so you’ll get done at a decent time. You enjoy working early so you have the rest of the day to just relax and enjoy the weather around you. Plus, since you didn’t feel like going back to gloom at your apartment, you decided after your shift was done, to head over to the bookstore across the street and check out a few books.  Maybe even treat yourself to a little pastry? (Despite working at a coffee shop).

Pulling on your required apron, you get started by placing out different breakfast foods and pastries for customers that come in soon. You also begin to set out any ingredients or refill any that seem to be out. With all that finally done, the first customer comes through the door as well as a few coworkers. And before you know it, your shift is complete.

Off to the bookstore.

The weather today was breezy, but the sun was poking through the clouds, instantly warming you up as you cross the street towards the bookstore.

It’s a quaint looking store that definitely has character on both the inside and out. You love coming here to just pick a random book and read. It’s really relaxing and separates you from the outside world as well as your troubles. Plus, the employees are incredibly sweet and understanding anytime you walk through the door.

Entering, you are swarmed with the smell of books and pastries. Yes, it’s definitely a comforting scent. Waving with a slight smile at one of the familiar employees, they give you the same gesture as you head towards the back at your regular spot.

On your way there, you make sure to pick up a few books that caught your eye. Reaching your seat with several indents already present, you sigh as your body finally relaxes. You didn’t have to think of anything or anyone. No Tom, no Zendaya, no work, no nothing. This is your time. Your time to step outside of your head and explore the world of who you are reading. You enjoy every bit of it.

Grossly ingested in the book, you barely see one of the employees come towards you.

“Hey, Y/N! How’s it hanging back here?”

Startled, you lose the page you’re on as you glance up to the familiar face of Rosie, one of the employees who’s a little younger than you.

“Hey, Rosie! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there. I get a little out of it when I read. I’m good, though. How’re you?” You reply with a breathy laugh.

Smiling, she takes a seat next to you.

“I’m doing good, it’s not too busy, so I’d thought I’d check on you and bring you this!”

Glancing towards her hand, you see a delicious fruit danish.

“That’s so sweet of you! Here, how much do I owe?” You question, with a rumble of your stomach.

Rosie’s hand stops you from grabbing any money as she declines.

“No need, Y/N. It’s on the house! You deserve it,” she adds giggling.

“A-Are you sure? I ca-”

“Please, I insist. I just made them, so they’re warm, gooey, and delicious! I know you’ll love them,” she interrupts with a bright smile.

Sighing, you give in.

“Alright, but only if you have a bite!”

Two danishes and a cupcake later, Rosie returns back to work as you continue reading your engrossing book.

You had put your phone on silent, so you weren’t aware of Tom’s calls or texts, which worried him. He wanted to know where you were because he was going to surprise you with a visit. He knows how lonely you’ve been feeling and with everything going on, he needed a break.

Thinking through your schedule, Tom can’t remember exactly, so he decides to just check at your work first and then head to that bookstore you love oh, so much.

He can’t wait to see the look on your face. The only thing is, is that some of the cast wanted to join him so they could visit his home country and see you again. He wanted them to come, but at the same time, he wanted to be with you more.

Quickly crossing the street towards the cafe you work at, Tom tries to look through the windows to see if you’re there, but can’t get a good look. Moving inside, you are nowhere to be found. Tom decides to order a coffee from all his traveling and your favorite pastry, as he asks your coworkers if they have seen you. While Tom’s cast mates are ordering as well, one of the coworkers points out towards the bookstore across the street.

Smiling at the thought of you snuggled in a corner with your nose dived into a book, Tom grabs his order, his friends, and heads across the street towards the beloved bookstore.

You were about halfway through your third book as you heard a familiar voice, but were too entranced by your book to give them a notice.

Your reading was interrupted as you heard one of Tom’s friends.

“Hey, Tom! Check ou-”

Directing your attention to the voice, you see Tom already looking at you a few shelves behind with a bag and a coffee.

He quickly makes his way towards you, as you stumble to get up with furrowed brows.

As he embraces you with the warmest hug, you stutter, “wha- how, I- what are you doing here? I-I thought you still had a few months left of filming?”

Pulling away, but not letting go, Tom placed a loose piece of hair behind your ear while pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

“We all needed a break! I was starting to go crazy not seeing you, love.”

“We?” You question, blushing at his cheesy words.

Turning around, you see some of the Spider-Man cast talking with one another and picking up random books.

“Yeah! They wanted to see my world. Oh, and you, I guess,” Tom cheekily replies.

Rolling your eyes, you chuckle, “of course Tessa is your world.”

Giving you a wink, you look towards his friends. Except one person catches your eye.

Zendaya.

Sensing the sadness that filled the brightness in your eyes, Tom asks, “what would you like to do?”

Looking to your feet, you mumble, “oh, uh- I was just going to chill at the apartment.”

“Oh, w-would you mind if we came along? We don’t have anywhere to go,” he nervously chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

Feeling your heart rip, you quietly reply, “yeah, sure I guess.”

Smiling brightly at you, Tom grabs your hand as you and his friends walk out the store towards your apartment.

After picking up a few pizzas for dinner, you are all currently sprawled across your living room watching some random movies that are on TV and talking about each others lives.

You, however, still moping over Tom bringing Zendaya, lurked in the kitchen finding something to clean or put away.

Taking a glance at the group, you hear Zendaya tell a funny story while on set with Tom, making him laugh hysterically. Your heart crushes a little, and you know it’s ridiculous. It’s just a story? What more? But besides pushing it away, you let it get the best to you and head towards your room to silence your soon to be cries.

This is ridiculous!

Would Tom really-

I don’t want to think about it.

You ponder, furiously rubbing at your teary eyes as you gaze out the window in the bedroom.

Tom notices your sudden disappearance and knows something is up. He knew you probably just wanted to spend time with him, but if course he brought everyone else along. He couldn’t help it, he didn’t want to come off rude. But in the same sense, he was invading your space and privacy.

“Hey, guys. Would you want to explore around town a little? I don’t think Y/N’s feeling too well. I’ll meet up with you guys later. Sound good?” Tom asks his friends, laying across your living room.

“Of course! Betcha there are a few fun pubs to check out anyways.”

“Ooo! We should get ice cream. I’m hankering for some creamy goodness.”

“Yessss! Let’s do it. See you later Tom!”

Chuckling, he waits for them to exit to head towards where you are.

Cautiously knocking, Tom opens the bedroom door, revealing your scrunched up form sitting by the windowsill. Tom sighs.

“Y/N? Love, are you okay? I kicked them out to do some exploring.”

Not hearing a response, he slowly approaches you, soon hearing quiet sniffles coming from you.

Tom rushes to your side and engulfs you into a hug.

“Y/N, baby, what’s wrong? Please talk to me,” Tom pleads.

Not bothering to even look him in the eye, you sniffle out, “s-should I, should I be worried about y-you and Zendaya? I just- I know it’s ridiculous. I’ve been reading some things online and I just don’t know what to thi-”

You are cut off by Tom softly pressing his thin lips to your puffy ones due to your constant lip biting.

Placing his forehead to your own, he whispers, “don’t listen to the press. They’ll just add more stress, love. Please don’t worry about Z and I okay? We’re just friends. I promise. Filming brought us together and I’ve made some great friendships with them all. I know I’ve been busy lately and probably have been neglecting you and I’m so sorry, baby. I never wanted you to think I was avoiding or even cheating on you! You mean so, so fucking much to me. And I love you with all my fucking heart, god I do. You have no idea.”

Looking straight into your eyes, Tom grabs your cheeks with his lanky hands.

“You’re my one and only.”

You’re my one and only.

A/N: Please excuse this shitty piece of writing. Haven’t been feeling myself lately. Please let me know what you think.