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callunavulgari · 5 months

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Scrapbook 2023 | Pt IV

NGL, a little heated that Tumblr's new editing bullshit has made it so I can't save more than a month at a time, so I guess I'll have monthly ones from now on.

For anyone that’s new to this, this is how I keep track of all of the things that I enjoy and/or create throughout the year. I have literally been doing this since I had a livejournal.

It’s a nice little snippet of my life and helps to organize my brain.

A reminder:

Normal font - Indifferent/Neutral Italicized font - Enjoyed bold font - Loved with an asterisk* - All time favorite (bracketed titles) - Re-watches/Re-reads strikethough - Disliked

Goals are: read 65 books, finish 4 video games, write more than 20 fics or something larger than 20k, and expand on your original novel outline to the point that you START WRITING.

Past Years

MOVIES

November

(Interstellar)

(Lotr: Fellowship)

(The Birdcage)

December

No Hard Feelings

The Muppet Christmas Carol

(Love Actually)

(Lotr: Fellowship)

Saltburn

(Everything Everywhere All At Once)

TV SHOWS

November

Loki, s2

Scavengers Reign s1

All the Light We Cannot See

December

Yu Yu Hakusho - Live Action

One Piece - Live Action

Percy Jackson & the Olympians

What If, s2

YOUTUBE CHANNELS

November

Watcher: Ghost Files

Watcher: Ghost Files Debrief

Watcher Podcast

Watcher: Food Files

Claire Saffitz Cooks

Gino's Italian Escape

Top 5 Beatdown

Inga Lam

December

Beryl!

Watcher: Too Many Spirits

Kimi

Imamu Room

BOOKS

November

How to Sell a Haunted House by Grady Hendrix [Fin]

The Foxglove King by Hannah Whitten [Fin]

(A Darker Shade of Magic by VE Schwab)

A Power Unbound by Freya Marske [Fin]

Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros [Fin]

The Weaver and the Witch Queen by Genevieve Gornichec [Fin]

December

(A Darker Shade of Magic by VE Schwab) [Fin]

The Only One Left by Riley Sager [Fin]

(A Gathering of Shadows by VE Schwab) [Fin]

(A Conjuring of Light by VE Schwab) [Fin]

Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin [Fin]

All Systems Red by Martha Wells [Fin]

Artificial Condition by Martha Wells [Fin]

Rogue Protocol by Martha Wells [Fin]

Exit Strategy by Martha Wells [Fin]

Starling House by Alix Harrow [Fin]

Silver Nitrate by Silvia Moreno-Garcia [Fin]

Network Effect by Martha Wells [Fin]

PODCASTS

November

Watcher Podcast

December

Watcher Podcast

VIDEO GAMES

November

Baldur’s Gate 3

Hollow Knight

LoZ: Tears of the Kingdom

December

LoZ: Tears of the Kingdom

(Ghosts of Tsushima)

POSTED FIC

November

for years or for hours | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 1,677 words | “What the shit are you doing?” Mobius hisses, and Loki— Loki is tired.

touch-a, touch-a, touch-a, touch me | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 2220 words | “God,” Steve murmurs into Eddie’s mouth. “You look— I cannot deal with how you look right now.”

December

these, our bodies, possessed by light | Shades of Magic | Holland/Kell/Lila, Athos/Holland | 2,134 words | Holland tells her simply. “I want to go home.”

this house says your name like an elegy | The Untamed | Song Lan/Xiao Xingchen/Xue Yang | 6768 words | “Good night, ghost,” he says. “We can play tomorrow.”

WIPS | UNPUBLISHED | ORIGINAL

November

Eddie/Steve - Rocky Horror

Yuletide

December

N/A

Fanmixes/Spotify Playlists/Graphics

November

Holland Playlist - Lost

December

N/A

DELIGHTFUL FIC

November

The Water's Edge by entanglednow | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 2k | In which Steve takes a walk in the rain, sees something he's not supposed to and has some thoughts he didn't expect.

The Shortest Straw by entanglednow | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 4k | In which Steve gets to indulge in a bit of roughhousing with a friend and realizes how much he'd missed it.

Manacled by senlinyu | HP | Hermione/Draco | 370k | Harry Potter is dead.

Extra Fresh Cherry Flavor by entanglednow | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | The cold, dry weather is not kind to Eddie's mouth, if only someone could offer a little help.

Faith, Faith, Faith by avocadomoon | Teen Wolf | Derek/Stiles | 21k | "Is there literally anywhere in the world you haven't been? Jesus fuck," Stiles said.

Crocodile Jock by entanglednow | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 4k | When in doubt, Eddie figures you can never go wrong with a classic.

some version of you (that I might not have, but I did not lose) by PinkCanary | Loki | Loki/Sylvie | 4k | Mobius offers her the bedroom, but she insists on the couch.

come back. even as a shadow, even as a dream. by harleygirl2648 | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 6k | Dreams don’t happen in the TVA.

the earth from a distance by spqr | HP | Draco/Harry | 16k | “Really,” Malfoy drawled. “We’re stuck in the 16th century, with no idea how we got here or how we might go about getting back – pray tell, Potter, how could this situation possibly be worse?”

Five Stars by Dira Sudis (dsudis) | The Sandman | Dream/Hob | 3k | Robert G. who brings the groceries is one of the most-texted numbers in Dream's phone. This will surely never cause any problems.

A Sign of The Morning by ToEdenandBackAgain | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 86k | Vecna is dead. The Upside Down is cut off from Hawkins yet again. Steve is trying to go back to normal, whatever that is. He's also trying to figure out exactly how Eddie Munson has managed to fit so easily into his life.

(meet me tonight in atlantic city) by greatunironic | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 20k | Ten years on, in a town in Nova Scotia, on the edge of the Atlantic, Eddie finds Steve again, and also maybe himself.

Desperate Measures by Asidian | BG3 | Astarion/Karlach | 7k | "I think Scratch is coming down with something," says Karlach the next morning, and Astarion, who's in the midst of packing up for the day's travel, drops the pillow he's attempting to make space for.

Eye Of The Beholder by entanglednow | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 22k | Eddie works himself up to ask Steve if he can borrow his instant camera, because the type of pictures he wants to take are…not the kind he can get developed in town.

In Our Blood by secretsalex | HP | Harry/Draco | 38k | Draco is an accomplished pure-blood curse breaker, and Harry is tasked with accompanying him on his latest job—cleaning up the Van Boer mansion, which has been under a devastating fertility curse for seven generations.

Terminus by RC_McLachlan | Loki | Loki/Mobius | 4k | "Keep me here," he begs against Mobius's lips. "You must keep me here."

What Made Milwaukee Famous by synthetica | Danny Phantom | Danny/Vlad | 31k | Ten years after establishing a tenuous truce, Danny crash-lands at Vlad's Milwaukee lakehouse with a particularly nasty wound, three days recovery time, and absolutely nothing to do but talk to his long-lost archnemesis.

December

then now and always by raisesomehale | Teen Wolf | Stiles/Derek | 14k | Stiles is stuck in the fucking snow in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere at night with a broken down car three days before Christmas, and the nearest tow truck company—over fifty miles away—doesn’t open until morning.

many times, many ways by spqr | Suits | Mike/Harvey | 15k | Soulmates are something that other people worry about, normal people, the masses, like marriage and kids and mortgages in the suburbs, and besides, Harvey’s not the sort of person who wants a life partner.

Damage Control by entanglednow | Good Omens | Aziraphale/Crowley | 3k | When their meeting is unexpectedly interrupted by angels, Aziraphale and Crowley have very little time to do damage control.

the summer of '85 by ToEdenandBackAgain | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 20k | “Fuck The Man, Harrington. Gimme a taste.”

Handle Me with Care (I'm So Tired of Being Lonely) by thesurefireway | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 8k | “I’m a virgin.” Eddie figure’s he’ll just drop one unexpected revelation on Steve for now. He can only expose so many squishy, vulnerable parts of himself at a time.

Strawberry Fields by ParadimeShifts | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 19k | “No,” Steve had said three days prior. “Literally anyone else.”

i don't ask much (i just want you) by ToEdenandBackAgain | Stranger Things | Steve/Eddie | 8k | "The fuck are you doing, Harrington?"

Deadwinter Warmth by Asidian | BG3 | Astarion/Karlach/Wyll | 4k | In the noble houses, Midwinter is a time of alliances, and Astarion knows better than anyone what that means.

Blood in the Snow by linaerys | Crimson Peak | Lucille/Thomas | 5k | Before the house, there was the earth, and the blood.

you gave up all the golden factories by evewithanapple | Anastasia | Anya/Dimitri | 3k | Two Petersburg childhoods.

A Private Room by 20thcenturyvole | The Goblin Emperor | Csethiro/Maia | 5k | One morning in late summer, ten months into the reign of Edrehasivar VII and four months into his marriage, the Emperor was apprised of a scandal brewing in his court when his wife upended her teacup at breakfast.

unintended consequence by itsmylifekay | One Piece | Zoro/Sanji | 8k | Imagine person A making person B a friendship bracelet, expecting person B to never wear it, but when it’s given to them person B puts it on and is rarely seen with it off.

our lady of zapovednik by magneticwave | Shadow and Bone | Darkling/Alina | 24k | Alina Oretsev owns a bookshop in a neighborhood in Os Alta that is escaping gentrification by the skin of its teeth and the sweat of its most notorious occupants, the Dregs.

just me against the sky by magneticwave | DC | Tim/Jason | 49k | Tim Drake stops stalking Gotham’s nocturnal wildlife when she goes to college. Unfortunately, they don’t return the favor.

DELIGHTFUL FANVIDS

November

Loki | God of The Multiverse

THE LAST OF US | Ellie Williams

Loki & Sylvie || Running Up That Hill (+2x06)

Spider-Gwen

The Beginning of the end. [COLLAB]

Loki || Glorious Purpose (God of Stories)

December

LOKI & SYLVIE | DYNASTY

Loki | The God of Stories

MARVEL || Believe in Me ft. Armanni Reign

DELIGHTFUL MUSIC

November

Now and Then - The Beatles

What Happens Tomorrow - Duran Duran

Vois sur ton chemin - BENNETT

could have been me - the struts

freya - christian reindl

history is now - natalie holt

purpose is glorious - natalie holt

have yourself a merry little christmas - mother mother

ice storm - lindsey stirling

December

my goodbye - jorge rivera-herrans

thus always to the tyrants - the oh hellos

a child's shadow - jessica curry

the power - borislav slavov

i believe - christina perry

dj play a christmas song- cher

paint it black - wednesday addams

my sails are set - sonya belousova

#heather says what #scrapbook #2023 #heather writes #recommendations

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singeratlarge · 9 months

Video

youtube

HAPPY BIRTHDAY to singer-songwriter Kip Allert, Louis Armstrong, Richard Belzer, The Billboard Hot 100 (1958), Moya Brennan [Máire Ní Bhraonáin], Terri Lyne Carrington, Dick Cummings, Herb Ellis, Frankie Ford, Václav Matyáš Gurecký, Brett S. Harrison, Elsbeary Hobbs (The Drifters), Ben Holland, Joey Huffman (Soul Asylum), Larry Knechtel, Kishore Kumar, Harry Lauder, Kenny Malone, Max Middleton, Ricky Nelson’s 1960 “Poor Little Fool” single, Cliff Nobles, Jessie Owens’s Olympic leap (1936), Pink Floyd’s 1967 PIPER AT THE GATES OF DAWN album, Elvis Presley’s 1956 “Hound Dog” single, Prince’s 1984 PURPLE RAIN album, David Raksin, Paul Reynolds (A Flock of Seagulls), Klaus Schulze, Maureen Starkey, Mark Stock, Timi Yuro, and my friend, a songwriter and great gospel singer Monette Newsuan. In the late 90s/early 00s we performed together frequently and recorded a flurry of projects, including her phenomenal solo album DON’T LET A DAY GO BY. She also appeared on my recordings as well as on recordings with Don Hess, The Word2Soul Project, and Davy Jones (Monkees)—who said Monette was one of his favorite singers. There are many Monette recordings I could share—she’s featured prominently on Davy Jones’s take of “When All Else Fails” https://johnnyjblairsingeratlarge.bandcamp.com/track/when-all-else-fails (we had a group photo from this recording session, but I’ve regrettably lost it). Meanwhile, HB MN and God bless your ministry and lifting up your voice!

#monette #newsuan #birthday #johnfarnham #davyjones #monkees #johnnyjblair

#Monette #Newsuan #birthday #John Farnham #Davy Jones #Monkees #Johnny J Blair

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softholand · 2 years

Note

hey! idk if im doing this right and you dont have to do this but "I always said I'd die for you." "I didn't think you meant literally." imagine this with like mob haz and holland reader that were childhood best friends and lost closeness bc they didnt realize they were both in the mob. protective but not asshole tom please

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

⤷ mob!haz x holland!reader, childhood best friends to enemies to lovers au, angst, blood, guns, the usual mob shenanigans

prompt: “i always said i’d die for you.” “i didn’t think you meant literally.”

words: 2.5k

a/n: you’re doing this so right, anon !! in fact, i almost turned this into a whole one shot, that’s how much i loved writing it 🙈 ty so much for asking ♡

You laid with your head on Harrison’s lap, his fingers carefully massaging your scalp, the sound of the rain steady against the glass windows, while you watched a movie at his house, a bowl of popcorn being shared between you two.

When a specific scene about a guy getting the shot that was fired at the girl came on, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Now that’s some bullshit! C’mon, no one would do this in real life.” You grumbled as the guy now laid on the floor, blood seeping through his clothes. “I’d die for you.” Harrison simply let it out, as if what he had just said wasn’t serious at all.

Getting up, you stared stunned at your best friend's expression, rolling your eyes with a laugh. “No, you wouldn’t!” You scoffed, getting back to your previous position. “Yes, I would! You're my best friend, y/n!” He said, stopping his movements. “That doesn’t mean you should die for me, Harrison!” You declared, making your best friend let out a frustrated groan. “Well, I would.” Harrison stated, “Okay, fine! Sure you would.” You rolled your eyes once again, giving up.

Harrison could only smirk at your sudden change of attitude, “You know what, I changed my mind. You’re too stubborn, I’d happily let you die.” He said, making you laugh. “You’re such an asshole, Osterfield!” You playfully hit him, earning a chuckle from the blonde. “Yeah, yeah… you love me!” He said, staring down at you with his beautiful ocean eyes. “You wish, Harri!” At that, it was Harrison’s time to hit you, both of your laughs filling the room.

“Hey, you ready?” Tom’s voice startled you, abruptly taking you out of your daydreaming. “Huh?” You asked, shaking your head to try and get rid of the clear image of your once best friend. “I asked if you were ready to go?” Your older brother repeated, to which you nodded, getting out of your rather comfortable position in bed.

Taking a couple of steps inside your bedroom, Tom asked the same question he had been repeating like a mantra the whole day. “You sure you don’t wanna stay? It’s not going to be a big deal.” You chuckled, putting your leather jacket on top of your blouse. “Yes, Tom! I’m sure, let’s go!” You exclaimed, walking past him and into the living room where the rest of your brothers waited for you.

“Oi, the princess is finally ready?” Harry let it out in a mocking tone, making you flip him off, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by your older brother. “Hey, behave you two. God, I swear I must have a place in heaven for having to deal with these kids.” Tom sighed, and you refrained from rolling your eyes.

“Okay, first of all, you’re only a few years older than us. And second, you really think you’re going to heaven with all the shit you’ve done, Tommy?” You asked, standing in front of him with your arms crossed and a proud smirk on your face upon seeing your older brother’s angry expression.

If it was one thing Tom hated, it was being called Tommy, especially by you, since you first started when you heard a girl he had brought home call him that. “In the car, y/n! Or I’ll leave you home.” His voice was firm, but he held a playful smirk on his lips.

When everyone was inside Tom’s car, he drove off to the abandoned warehouse, where your older brother had agreed to meet with some of his buyers, the ones who hadn’t paid your family yet, to be specific. After turning the engine of his beloved Porsche off, Tom suddenly stopped his movements. “What is it?” Sam asked, to which Tom held his finger up, a sign for you to stay quiet.

Taking a closer look, Tom furrowed his brow, “There’s more cars than there should be.” He said, making you roll your eyes. “They could’ve bought it?” You tried to reason, but he quickly shut you up, “If they’re not paying us, why do you think they’d have the money to buy a new car?” Tom stated and even though you hated to admit that he was right, you had to give him that.

“Sam, Harry, you two check the back to see if the place is clear while I go in. y/n, you stay in the car.” Tom’s words were firm, and this time there wasn’t a playful smirk on his lips. “What?!!! Why?!!!” You protested, to your brother’s distaste. “Because I said so! There’s something off here and I don’t want you involved if things go south.” Tom snapped, but you weren’t one to go down easily, you were a Holland after all. “Oh, so I’m just supposed to stay here and watch my brothers get killed?” You tried once again, but your brother wasn’t having any of it.

“No one’s dying tonight, and you’re staying inside this fucking car, do you understand me?” Tom scolded you, getting even angrier when you refused to answer. “y/n, do you understand me?” He pressed, finally being able to convince you. “Fine, I’ll stay here, for fucks sake!” You grumbled, crossing your arms, tearing your gaze away from him.

With that, the three boys got their guns ready, finally stepping out of the car, “Hey, I love you, ok? That’s why I do this, to protect you!” Tom whispered but all you did was ignore him. “Just… stay here! We’ll be right back.” He then mumbled before signaling for your brothers to go to the back of the abandoned building, while he made his way inside.

“Yeah, like shit I’m gonna stay here.” You let it out as soon as your brother entered, taking his spare gun in the glove compartment, before exiting the vehicle. Taking cautious steps, you made your way to one of the parked cars, if Tom wouldn’t let you help, then at least you could try and get some information about who was there.

Taking a closer look inside the vehicle, you noticed a picture hanging from the rearview mirror, gasping as you saw the familiar faces in the polaroid. Harrison, his sister Charlotte and their dog Monty laid on the floor of their grandparent's house, a place you once used to visit all the time.

You felt your breath get caught in your throat, fear of what could happen with not only your brothers but now Harrison inside the warehouse. Making your way to the door, you listened carefully, trying to make out what they were saying. “Well, it seems like we’re not the only ones not getting our money.” You heard Tom’s voice said, followed by Harrison’s. “Just give us the damn money Dexter, and we’ll all be on our way.”

You knew how risky this was, but you also couldn’t help your emotions anymore so, with your gun in hand, you took a couple of steps inside the house, the old wooden floor creaking as you did, letting all of them aware of your presence. “Y/n?” Harrison was the first to acknowledge you, your older brother immediately turning around at the mention of your name. “What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay in the car.” Tom scolded, his expression a mixture of anger and confusion. “I’m not a child, Thomas!” You groaned, taking a couple more steps in.

Sam and Harry, upon hearing your voice, also entered from the back, making the guy who owed you money draw his gun, aiming it directly at you. “Hey, hey, drop the gun now!” Tom warned, “I don’t have your money, Holland! Neither yours, Osterfield! So it doesn’t matter what I do next, I know the only way I’m getting out of here is in a body bag.” He whimpered, the hand holding the gun shaking like an old branch in the wind.

Too much happened in the next couple of seconds, you heard a shot being fired, another three following, and suddenly you were on the floor, in Harrison’s arms, but you quickly realized what he had done when you saw blood starting to seep through his white shirt. “No, no, no! Harrison!!! Tom, Harrison’s hurt!!!” You yelled, not even caring about the armed stranger anymore, your brothers had most likely killed the bastard anyways.

“Oh shit!!! Here, take this and press the wound, we have to take him to the hospital.” Tom cursed, taking his suit jacket off, before passing it to you. You did as you were told, pressing hard on the blonde’s wound, blood quickly covering both your hands and the piece of clothing. “Hey, look at me! You have to stay with me, ok? Don’t close your eyes!” You cried, feeling your voice tremble. “y/n…” Harrison whimpered, trying to reach his hand to your face. “Stop, don’t move! We’re gonna get you to a hospital, Haz! You’re gonna be okay, please, stay with me!” You pleaded, crying as he kept drifting in and out of consciousness.

It wasn’t long before Tom had burst into the old warehouse doors with his car, helping you carefully lay Harrison’s body in the back seat, his head resting on your lap, while he sped to the nearest hospital. Once there, the nurses put him on a stretcher, rushing to the surgery room where they stayed for the next hour.

“If you had just listened to me none of this would’ve happened.” Tom scolded you, while you sat in one of the waiting room chairs, your hands, and clothes covered in Harrison’s blood, whimpers leaving your quivering lips. “How many times do I have to tell you that what we do is dangerous, y/n? This is not a fucking movie, this is real life!” He kept repeating, absolutely fuming with your childish behavior.

You didn’t have the strength to fight back though, all you could do was cry, looking at your bloodied hands, thinking about Harrison’s almost lifeless body on top of you, his once blue eyes now covered by a grey haze. It was then that Tom seemed to finally notice your state of shock, cursing himself internally, before joining your side. “Hey, hey, look at me, I’m sorry!” He whispered, opening his arms, “C’mere!”

You cried in Tom’s arms, the guilt eating you alive, I mean, what would you do if Harrison died? It was your fault after all. “It’s okay, y/n/n! He’s gonna be fine, he’s a tough one.” Your older brother kept reassuring you, even though it did little to help your nerves.

It was a couple of hours later when a doctor came out of the room, asking for Osterfield’s relatives, making you and your three brothers all stand up. “He’ll be fine! The bullet did not lodge so we were able to remove it. He just needs some rest to heal now.” Their words made a wave of relief rush over your body, happy tears now cascading down your face while you hugged each one of your brothers.

“He’s anesthetized now but he’ll probably wake up soon. Does anyone want to see him?” The doctor asked, making all eyes lay on you. “Go on, I’ll call his mother and let her know he’s okay,” Tom said, to your surprise, since you knew how much he disliked the fact that you and Harrison were once best friends, seeing as he was from another mob family. “Okay!” You nodded, before being led to the room where Harrison currently was.

Upon entering, you couldn’t help but let a few tears slip, it was hard seeing the state the blonde was in, since you still felt guilty. The machines plugged into his body let out a constant “beep”, letting you know he was okay, easing your guilty mind. “I’ll leave you two to it.” The doctor said, before closing the door behind them.

Once you were alone, you held Harrison’s pale hand, letting all of your emotions out, “I’m sorry, Haz! It was my fault!” You cried, staying like this for a few minutes until you felt his hand squeezing yours back. “y/n?” His voice was hoarse, probably because of the lack of moisture since he had been there for hours. “Hey, you’re awake. Here, take this!” You held the glass of water to his lips, watching him take a few small sips. “Thanks!” He said, this time more clearly.

“What happened?” He asked, finally noticing he was in a hospital. “You were shot!” You informed him, before adding, “For me!” in a small whisper. “I always said I’d die for you.” He plainly let it out, making you even more stunned. “I didn’t think you meant literally.” You protested, watching his face contour in pain when he tried to laugh. “Well, clearly, you should have.”

You smiled, shaking your head at the boy in front of you, “God, you’re such an idiot, Harrison! Do you even understand the seriousness of the situation?” You asked, “Of course I do, y/n! You are… were my best friend and… and I love you, I couldn’t let you die.” The blonde admitted, feeling his heart pounding in his chest.

Getting up from the chair you were previously sitting, you leaned into Harrison’s body, reaching his lips, depositing a quick but firm kiss on them. “Thank you for saving me, even though I didn’t ask you to.” You said, making the blonde roll his eyes with a smirk. “You’re still stubborn as hell, I see.” He said, his eyes shifting from your eyes to your lips. “Uh-hum, and for your information, I love you too. Always have.” You smiled, and this time it was Harrison who collided his lips to yours.

It was only when you heard the sound of the door opening that you and Harrison let go of each other, widening your eyes upon seeing Tom entering the room. “It’s fine! I’m not gonna kill you! It’s not like this wasn’t bound to happen anyway.” He shrugged, his lips fighting to hold back a smile.

“Thank you, Tom! I love you!” You hugged your brother, kissing his cheek, before letting him go. “Yeah, yeah, whatever! Now, you better treat my sister right, or else you’d end up in a much worse situation than this, got it Osterfield?” Your older brother lectured the blonde, making you roll your eyes. “Tom, c’mon, seriously?” You groaned, making your brother laugh.

“What? I’m just looking out for you.” The boy stated, “Don’t worry, Tom! I promise to take good care of her!” Harrison said, reaching his hand out, interviewing your fingers, before leaning in to kiss you. “Ok, this is gross! I’m gonna head out! I’m glad you’re okay, mate!” Tom exclaimed while making his way out of the room, leaving you and Harrison sharing laughs.

“So…” Harrison said once you were alone. “So…” you repeated, the smile not wanting to come off your mouth. “You know this ain’t gonna be easy, right? Our families will not accept this without a fight.” He breathes, “Yeah, I know!” You mumbled sadly, but upon looking into his beautiful blue eyes, the smile made its way back to your lips, and even though you didn’t know what the future held for the both of you, you felt like it was going to be fine, as long as you were together. “You’re worth the fight though.” You stated, Harrison’s smile mirroring yours, before reaching for your lips once more.

— don’t forget to reblog and leave your feedback ♡

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield blurb #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield fic #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield one shot #harrison osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield x fem!reader #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield x y/n #harrison osterfield x holland!reader #mob!harrison osterfield #mob!haz #my writing #gi’s 1k sleepover

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farfromharry · 3 years

Text

summary: you’re terrified of storms and need peter’s comfort to get through it, but he has an idea

peter parker x reader

w/c 674

Peter had been in love with you for years. But unfortunately for him, he’d never found the right time to tell you considering everything that had happened in his life over the past few years.

You were the first person he came to after the spiderbite and after everything with Ben, but your sweet and calming demeanor towards him in those moments had only made him fall deeper in love with you.

Just like you were his go to comfort person, he was also yours, hence the reason you texted him to come over asap during a terrifying storm that left you awake and trembling in the early hours of the morning.

Your mind hadn’t thought about how it was probably unsafe of Peter to swing over to your apartment as lightning struck from the sky and rain pelted the ground, but even if you had voiced your concerns he would’ve only brushed them off.

As soon as the message lit up his phone he was leaving his own apartment to make his way to yours. It didn’t take him long and before you knew it there was tapping on your window that indicated Peter had arrived.

Your window had been left slightly open specifically for Peter to enter without you having to move, even though it was making the sound of the horrifying thunder louder.

He changed out of the spiderman suit and into some spare clothes he’d brought so he didn’t track in any rain water into your bedroom.

“Hi, I got your text. Is everything okay?” he asked, bending down beside the bed to see your face clearer. You were bundled up in blankets, eyes squeezed shut tightly as the storm raged on just outside your window.

Your eyes fluttered open to the sound of the boy’s voice, nerves settling just slightly as his concerned face came into your view.

“What happened?” he asked, gently bringing his hand up to your cheek, his thumb rubbing over the skin lovingly. You whimpered, trying to curl in on yourself more as a crack of thunder sounded outside.

“The storm. I-I hate it,” you muttered, eyes locking with Peters so he could see the tears building in your eyes. He pouted. You shifted over in your bed, allowing him to climb in next to you. “What, um, do you want me to do?” he asked, laying his head down on the pillow, his puppy eyes boring into yours.

“Just hold me,” you said, sniffling quietly before tucking your head into his neck to try and fall asleep. “I-I can do that. Yeah, I can do that.”

His hand ran over your hair, trying to ignore the way his heart was racing out of his chest. You surprisingly didn’t notice, and Peter didn’t understand how but he was very glad you didn’t because he would’ve surely flushed a bright shade of red.

You were quick to fall asleep while in his embrace, he had a very calming demeanor about him and the fact that he was a superhero made you feel a hundred times more protected from any possible danger.

The boy hated the way you would still jump in your sleep every time you heard the booming thunder. He knew the idea lingering in the back of his mind was a longshot, but the boy thought it was at least worth a try considering how scared you were.

He tried to reach for his phone that had found its way to your nightstand, but unfortunately he couldn’t reach it without the possibility of waking you. So, the boy had to resort to using his web shooters to grab the device.

He messed around with it for a few times until he found the contact he was looking for, dialing the number until the God picked up on the other side.

“H-Hey, Mr Thor,” he whispered, trying to keep his voice as low as possible so he didn’t wake you up. “D-Do you think you could maybe stop the storm outside, i-it’s scaring my friend.”

peter parker taglist → @seutarose @theglitterymess @call-me-baby-gir1 @parkerlovebot @icyhollands @hopelessly-harry @sinisterspidey @siriuslyslyslytherin @musicalkeys-blog @itstaskeen @tpwk-grande @zspideyy @spideyssunshine @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @sonnydoesrandomshit @hopeless-romantic-baby @thehumanistsdiary @dummiesshort @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @bvttercupbby @mymilliefrommarketing @spideyspeaches @kujokura @jess-holland23 @celestialholland @moonlight-onyx @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @lou-la-lou @slutforsr @tayyx @bora-world @annathesillyfriend @paninipress @lovableparker @whoeveniskendall @hollandswife @sunwardsss @dhtomholland @bi-lmg @scarletspideyy @tomhollandismyhusband1996 @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @multixfandomwriter @magicalxdaydream @hallecarey1 @avengers-hamiltrash @writingrem @aayaissaa @jacksnoodles @mamaparker28 @edmundspevensea @n0eliii @lovehollandy12 @peterbenjiparker @tomshufflepuff @ifyouknewhowmiserylovedme @prancerrparkerr

#peter parker x y/n #peter parker imagines #peter parker imagine #peter parker #tom holland

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waitimcomingtoo · 4 years

Text

From Friends To This

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Synopsis: Tom gives you an intimate compliment that makes you question just how platonic your friendship is

Masterlist

Unable to sleep and growing bored with the episode of Grey’s Anatomy he was watching, Tom reached up and knocked the secret rhythm to on his wall. He tilted his chin up towards the wall, waiting for your response. Finally, you finished the knock, letting Tom know you were still awake. Ever since you moved in, you and Tom communicated at through knocking on the wall since your rooms were next to each other. It was reserved for late night messages, usually when one of you wanted a snack but didn’t want to go to the kitchen alone. Tonight, it was a matter of curiously.

“did I wake you?” Tom pulled out his phone to text you, not wanting to keep you up if you had been asleep.

“you know I’m always awake. what’s on your mind?” You texted back in a few short seconds, making Tom smile.

“I’m a few seasons into Grey’s Anatomy and I need to know who I can’t get attached to in case they die.”

“when I tell you you cannot get attached to ANYONE I mean it.” You answered. Toms thumbed danced over the keyboard, unsure of what to say next. He didn’t exactly have anything to talk about, he just wanted to talk to you. His eyes drifted back to his screen and he paid a little more attention, watching as Owen stood behind Christina and smiled for a minute before saying, “You should wear your hair up more. It shows off the back of your neck. I like the back of your neck.”

“Gross.” Tom mumbled as he shifted his eyes back to his phone. That was how he chose to flirt with the girl he liked? Tom continued texting you when what was intended to be background noise caught his eye. He thought Christina would find that comment as weird as he did, but she didn’t. She did the opposite.

She liked it.

Tom stared at his screen with furrowed eyebrows as Christina timidly brushed the back of her neck with her fingertips with a smile, making Tom wonder if that line actually worked on girls. His eyes shifted back to his phone, thumbs dancing over the keyboard as he thought of what to type. Finally, he decided to let Owen do the talking for him.

“you should wear your hair up more” He wrote, heart pounding in his ears as he waited for the bubble to come up.

“why 😳” Your text appeared on his screen and he blew out a nervous breath. No going back now if he was already halfway there.

“it shows off the back of your neck”

“yes and?” You wrote.

Tom twiddled his thumbs anxiously as he typed out the next part.

“I like the back of your neck.”

A bubble appeared almost immediately, then disappeared. Tom almost threw his phone across the room from anxiety as he waited for your response. The clock went up a minute before your answer came.

“aw, really?” came first.

Then, “what about the skin between my fingers?”

Followed by, “or my weenis?”

And then, “do you like the back of my knees too?”

Tom laughed to himself, his chest rising and falling repeatedly at your words.

“fine. I’ll just never compliment you again 😔” Tom texted you back. His plan didn’t end up with you admitted your long held love for him, but it didn’t completely backfire either. He was at a happy medium, and he was okay with that.

“ok, dork.” You sent. “what are you, a vampire? trying to get me to show off my neck I see 👀”

“you caught me. that’s why I’m so pale and moody. I’m tryna bite that neck”. Tom wrote you back. At least you weren’t making him feel bad for what he said, even if it fell a little flat.

“smh. you ain’t slick holland” You texted, making Tom chuckle again. You hadn’t reacted the way Christina had, but you also hadn’t reacted the way Tom had.

In Toms mind, that was a good thing.

Little did he know, that text would forever change the nature of your relation.

Monday

The conversation completely departed from Tom’s mind by the next morning as he put his dishes away in the sink and loaded them in the dishwasher. He rinsed his plate right as you walked by, your perfume wafting his way as you passed.

“Good morning.” You said over your shoulder as you opened the cabinet next to the sink. You began to move the various mugs out of your way until you found the one you were looking for, shaking your head a little back and forth to let your hair move. Tom snuck a glance at you and cocked a smile when he saw what you had done.

You had worn your hair in a ponytail.

“Great morning, actually.” Tom remarked, tilting his head to look at you as he shut the faucet off. “Nice hair.”

You gave him a poised look before ostentatiously shaking your head, letting your ponytail swish.

“Thanks.” You shrugged casually as you poured some hot water in your mug, a coy smile perched on your face.

“You’re welcome.” Tom told you as he leaned on the counter and picked up his own blue mug.

“No, Tom.” You said, looking in the mirror on the wall and adjusting your ponytail before looking at Tom and shooting him a wink. “You’re welcome.”

And then you walked away, your ponytail hitting him when you did.

Tom stared at you as you walked away with a dropped jaw, folding his arms as he thought about what he just witnessed.

“Ponytail.” He mumbled to himself. “She wore a ponytail.”

Later that day, Tom sat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers against his cheek as he edited his and Harry’s script when he felt your hair hitting his face. He looked up from his computer as you sat down beside him, a coy smile on your face.

“Oh, Sorry. Did I hit you with my ponytail?” You asked before hitting him with it again. “Sorry.”

And again.

“Sorry. So sorry.” You stifled a laugh as you opened your own laptop and began to type.

“So this is what I get for trying to be nice.” Tom said unenthusiastically. He couldn’t help his eyes from drifting to your ponytail as you typed, smiling a little at the way it bounced.

“No.” You told him. “This is what you get for telling me you like the back of my neck.”

“Is it that weird of a thing to say?” He asked, a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance ringing in his voice. You looked at him Tm out of the corner of your yes, smirking a little at he got riled up.

“Who said it was weird?” You shrugged as you flicked your hair in his face again. “Sorry.”

“I’m trying to work and you’re being incredibly distracting.” Tom grumbled as he tried to focus on his work. However, it was proving to be incredibly difficult since you decided to sit oh so close to him.

“Am I?” You played dumb and twirled your hair around your finger. “What’s distracting you?”

Tom stared at you for a moment, caught up in the way your hair twirled around your finger. He felt an ache in his chest as he fought the urge to replace your hands with his and run your fingers through your hair. He locked eyes with you and shook his head, laughing a little to himself as you teased him.

“You know.” He insisted, eyes going back to your hair.

“Could it be…”, you sassily flipped your ponytail and held you hand over your heart, “the back of my neck?”

You let out an ostentatious gasp as if you just revealed the killer in a murder mystery before letting out a laugh.

“Can you just forget I said that?” Tom whined as you snickered at your own joke. “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“You told me you liked the back of my neck, Tommy.” You reminded him. “How can that not mean anything?”

“It just doesn’t. It’s just something I said. No harm done.” Tom insisted, hoping you’d let him dismiss it.

“If there’s no harm done in what you said, then there’s no harm in my ponytail.” You shrugged, letting your ponytail sway as you moved. Tom looked at you for a long time and you stared right back, raising your eyebrows to challenge him.

“It was just a compliment.” Tom told you.

“And it’s just a ponytail.” You shot back. Tom squinted his eyes at you but you didn’t budge. Neither of you were gonna break, which meant Tom was getting zero work done, not that he minded.

“Tell me why you wore one.” He said, shitting his laptop to give you his full attention.

“Tell me why you like the back of my neck.” You answered, turned in your chair to face him. You puffed your chest out a little, trying to look tough as you set your focus on him.

“It was just a compliment.” He repeated, narrowing his eyes at you. You cracked a smile before leaning closer, close enough that your breath fanned his face.

“And it’s just a ponytail.” You said breathily. “Bye now.”

You waved flirtatiously at Tom as you sprung out of your seat, letting your ponytail flick him one last time before you left the room. He turned in his seat to watch you as he left, heart still skipping beats from how close you’d been.

“That damn ponytail.” Tom grumbled.

Tuesday

Tom thought the great back of the neck debate would end after one day, but when he watched you waltz into the kitchen the next morning with your hair pulled into a bun, he knew he was dead wrong. You weren’t the one to drop things, and he wasn’t the one to make the first move. As you took your place next to him at the kitchen counter, he knew this debate wasn’t going to end anytime soon.

“I like your hair today.” Tom said slowly as he stirred sugar into his tea. He handed you the sugar, knowing you liked your tea just as sweet as him, and you wordlessly accepted it.

“Thanks. It’s just so hot out, I wanted my hair off my face.” You said causally before looking at him out of the corner of your eye. “And neck.”

“It’s raining.” Tom smirked as he took a sip from his blue mug.

“Is it?” You asked, turning all the way around to look out the window and giving Tom a long look at the back of your neck. You turned back around, rubbing your hand on your shoulder to draw even more attention to that God forsaken part of your body. Tom knew exactly what you were doing, and evidently, so did you.

You looked back at him and shrugged before stirring sugar into your tea. “I guess it is.”

You took a step closer to Tom, taking a long sip of your tea as you held eye contact with Tom.

“I really like the bun, love.” Tom spoke softly in his morning voice. “Looks great.”

“You like it?” You raised your eyebrows seductively. “Tell me Tom, why do you like it?”

“I think we’ve been over this, darling.” He dished it right back, not letting you get the upper hand.

“I’m afraid I don’t remember.” You tilted your head. “Do you think you can back track for a second and remind me?”

Your chests were practically touching now, morning tea long forgotten.

“I like it when you wear your hair up.” Tom said without ever breaking eye contact. You stared back at him firmly until just for a moment, you quivered. You looked away quickly and insecurely touched your hair, letting your fingers slid to rest on the back of your neck.

“I have to go.” You picked up your mug and gave him a tight smile. “See you later.”

Tom furrowed his eyebrows once you left, feeling even more confused than the day before. If he didn’t know any better, you had gotten flustered from your little encounter. In the years Tom had known you and the months you’ve lived together, he was usually the one left with flushed cheeks and a racing heart after a shared moment went from platonic to flirtatious too quickly. He’d never seen something he did have such an effect on you. The memory of your flushed cheeks and wide eyes gave Tom the confidence to navigate the new territory you had entered. Something about his text from that night sparked something between the two of you, a battle that Tom was determined to win.

Wednesday

You had gone out to breakfast with old friends, so Tom hadn’t seen you all morning. It wasn’t until 2 pm that he found you at the kitchen table, leaning on your hand as your eyes lazily scanned your computer. He smirked and laughed to himself upon seeing that you had done it once again.

“Pigtails.” Tom said, alerting you to his presence. You didn’t look up from your computer but a cheeky smile tugged at your lips.

“Sorry, what was that?” You pretended not to hear him as you twirled a strand of hair from your pigtail around your fingers.

“I haven’t seen you in pigtails since Harrison tugged on them so hard you cried in Year 3.” Tom noted as he leaned on the table across from you.

“Well, this is my first step in getting over that tragic day.” You said as you looked at him through your eyelashes, letting it linger before looking back at your computer. Tom gripped the table in frustration, shaking the table a little but you still didn’t look up. Something about the combination of your hairstyle and you refusing to look at Tom was driving him up a wall. He walked around the table, stopping when he was stood behind your chair. He rested his hands on your shoulders, making your body freeze as whatever was on your computer screen completely left your mind.

“I see.” Tom said lowly as his rough hands began to knead your shoulders, paying extra attention to your neck. He cracked a smile when he heard you suck in a breath, swimming in glory at the effect he had on you. Always wanted to push his luck, Tom let his thumb slowly drag down the back of your, neck, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

“Beautiful.” He murmured, and a chill went down your spine.

“Hey Y/n. Ding dong!” Harrison came out of seemingly nowhere and grabbed onto your pigtail, yanking it twice like it was a bell. Tom jumped back and put his hands in his back pockets, feeling his heart about to beat out of his chest. You swatted Harrison’s hands away and stood up, shooting a glance at Tom before turning back to Harrison.

“Very funny. You know who rings bells like that? The hunchback of notre dame.” You shoved Harrison playfully before sneaking another glance at Tom. The tension that had built between you could be cut with a knife, and today that knife was named Harrison.

“Stop flirting with me, Y/n.” Harrison joked as he gave your hair one last tug. You made a face at him before he let the room, his laugh echoing. Your eyes slowly made their way back to Tom, a now awkward silence filling the room.

“I’m gonna…” You pointed to your hair and began to take out your pigtails, needing an excuse not to look at Tom.

“Yeah, good idea.” Tom walked to you and immediately got to work to take down the other pigtail. He was gentle, careful not to tug at your baby hairs as he took the hair tie out. You winced a little as a hair got caught but didn’t make a sound.

“Sorry.” Tom said quietly as held your hair tie out to you. You looked at him as your hand closed around it, blinking a few times as you collected yourself.

“It’s okay.” Your tone was even softer as the tension from before reclaimed its place between you.

“Why do you keep wearing your hair up?” He asked, fingering a strand of your hair as he kept his eyes down.

“Why did you tell me you like the back of my neck?” You asked back.

“I don’t know.” Tom answered, leaning in a little closer.

“Then I don’t know either.” You looked him right in the eyes before turning sharply and leaving, your hair hitting him as you went.

Thursday

“Beautiful day, isn’t it? Gosh, it’s a wonderful day. Why are you all sitting inside? We should go out and enjoy the fresh morning air. Come on guys, let’s get this joint jumping.” You entered the room where the rest of the boys were with a suspiciously chipper attitude. The boys exchanged looks as you stood in the center with a huge smile.

“Did you put crack in your tea instead of sugar this morning?” Harry asked you.

“Again?” Tuwaine added.

It was then that Tom glanced up from his phone only to see you staring right at him with yet another updo.

“Good morning Tom.” You nodded at him.

“Good morning to you too, Princess Leia.” Tom smiled at your hair today, two buns below each ear.

“Just trying something new.” You shrugged and sat down next to Harrison. Tom furrowed his eyebrows, well aware of the empty spot on the sofa next to him where you usually sat. He knew this was all apart of the little dance the two of you had been doing, but it bothered him nonetheless. His eyes burned holes in your like a lit cigarette on paper from across the room as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“Hey, Haz.” You said, purposefully loud enough for Tom to hear. He tried to go back to what he was looking at on his phone, but found it impossible to concentrate when you were practically on top of Harrison.

“Hey.” He greeted, having no clue what he was now apart of. “I like the buns. You look like you’re gonna churn some butter.”

You looked at Tom smugly when his best friend complimented you before returning your attention to Harrison. You began to twirl the ends of Harrison’s grown out curls between your fingers, making Toms chest tighten.

“That’s so funny, Haz.” You laughed loudly, too loud to be real. “You’re just so-“

“Y/n, can we talk in the other room for a second?” Tom snapped, practically springing out of his seat.

“Okay.” You looked at him strangely and got out of your seat. As soon as you were standing, Tom grabbed your hand and pulled you into the hallway.

“Your hair is up.” He pointed a finger at you as he whispered sharply.

“I’m well aware.” You scoffed and folded your arms.

“Why do you keep wearing it up?” He asked, losing his mind now. His blood was on fire now after nearly a week of cat and mouse.

“Why do you care?” You answered his question with a question, only making him more frustrated. Tom opened his mouth to speak but found himself with nothing to say. He ran his fingers through his hair, giving it a stressful tug as he fell speechless.

“That’s what I thought.” You laughed, almost sadly. “When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be ready to listen.”

“Y/n.” Tom began but you were already walking away.

“I gotta go.” You mumbled, barely audible as you turned the corner.

Friday

Braids.

You had two Dutch braids, parted down the middle to give Tom a perfect view of the back of your neck.

You didn’t know this, but Tom loved braids.

Like, really loved braids.

He stared at you for a moment, not sure what your reaction would be to him today. After the weird talk you had yesterday, he thought for sure you’d stop with the hairstyles. You had your back to him and of you knew he had entered the room, you didn’t show it. Tom passed you to get a mug from the cabinet. When you didn’t speak, he didn’t either. He slowly poured hot water into the mug and unwrapped a tea bag, wincing at how loud it sounded with all the awkward silence in the room.

“Good morning.” Your voice cut the silence like a pair of scissors, making Tom turn and look at you.

“Good morning.” He said softly, surprised you were the first one to speak. He timidly held his cup of tea, clutching like a child holding a blanket as he looked at you. You weren’t looking up, but it wasn’t like the day before. You weren’t teasing him this time.

You were upset with him.

The searing tension that had been following the two of you all week had been replaced with an ice that chilled the room.

“It’s gonna rain later.” Your voice was delicate and low as you kept your eyes on the newspaper. Tom knew you. You never read the newspaper.

You just didn’t want to look at him.

“Yeah. I heard.” Tom nodded slowly, aching to reach out and apologize to you. He wanted to tell you he was sorry, he just didn’t know what he was sorry for.

“We should probably put a cover over the chicken coop.” You said as you turned the page, eyes never coming his way.

“Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

The silence crept back in and Tom felt a twinge or pain in his heart. He needed you to look at him so he knew you were okay.

“I like your hair today.” Tom spoke again, his voice weak from not trusting it enough to speak at full volume.

“Thanks.” You said sharply, getting out of your seat and taking the newspaper with you.

“Y/n-“ Tom began, taking a step towards you.

“I’m gonna go feed the chickens.” You stated, leaving out the backdoor and not looking back.

A few hours later, you appeared in Toms doorway wearing one of his hoodies. It was too big on you, covering your body past the little black shorts you had on. You were holding a jar of pickles in your hands and had a sheepish look on your face.

“I can’t open this.” You said weakly as you held up the jar. Tom looked up at you from his desk with a small smile. He knew this was your way of apologizing and he doubted you knew what you were sorry for either.

“Come here.” Tom held his arm out and you walked towards him. He took the jar from you and opened it with ease while holding eye contact with you. After you refused to look at him that morning, he needed this.

“Thank you.” You smiled softly at him as you took the jar and set it on his desk.

“You’re welcome, darling.” Tom nodded, setting the lid down beside the jar. Your face contorted into a pained expression and you looked down, tugging at the strings of his hoodie to distract yourself.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. And this morning.” You spoke. “I don’t even know why I’m mad at you. I had no right to be.”

“That’s okay.” Tom told you. “I’m just glad you’re talking to me now.”

“I’m gonna go eat these now.” You took the jar of pickles and the lid and gave him an awkward smile.

“You don’t have to leave.” Tom said quickly when you were halfway out the door. You turned around and his face flushed, feeling embarrassed for sounding so desperate. “I just, um, I mean you could stay if you like.”

“Okay.” You nodded and took a seat on his bed, setting the jar down on his nightstand.

Tom spun around in his chair and rested his elbows on his knees to face you.

“You’re wearing my hoodie.” He noted, hoping that was a good sign that you were not longer mad at him.

“I was cold.” You shrugged and tugged at one of your braids. You began to play with the hair that came out of your hair tie as you looked around Tom’s room. You were avoiding eye contact once again and Tom was growing frustrated. If he had never given you that compliment, none of this would be happening. He worried he had permanently changed the nature of your relationship all because of some stupid statement.

“You’re being weird.” Tom said, speaking before thinking it through. You were both avoiding the conversation but he didn’t want to do it anymore. If he didn’t fix it now, he feared he never could.

“No I’m not.” You scoffed and took out your hair tie, undoing and redoing the bottom of your braid.

“Yes, you are.” Tom insisted, getting out of his chair to gain leverage.

“No, I’m not.” You stood up as well and looked at him sternly.

“Yes you are!” Tom snapped. “You keep touching your hair. You only do that when something’s on your mind.”

“Nope. No thoughts. Head empty.” You tapped the side of your head and laughed nervously.

“Fine. Then I’ll drop it.” Tom held up his hands in defense.

“Good.” You sighed in relief, taking your hand away from your braid and tucking them into the pocket of the hoodie. Tom looked you up and down, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he stared at your braids.

“You wore your hair up every day this week.” He blurted, making you let out a groan.

“Tom.” You whined. “You said you were dropping it.”

“I will drop it.” He promised. “Just as soon as you tell me why.”

“I don’t know why.” You raised your voice, frustrated with both him and yourself.

“I’m sure you can think of something.” Tom snapped back, not being able to take his eyes off those damn braids.

“Does it really matter?” You whined, rubbing the back of your neck as you looked out his window.

“Yes! It does matter. To me, it matters.”

“Why?” You were both yelling now, not even aware of what was making you angry.

“It just does.” Tom sighed, calming down a little. “It just does.”

“Well I don’t have an answer for you.” You shrugged helplessly. “I can’t help you.”

“Does you wearing your hair up have anything to do with me telling you I like the back of your neck?” Tom asked slowly, taking a sudden interest in the floor as he asked the question that had been weighing on his mind all week.

“Oh my God.” You covered your face with your hands and dragged them down.

“What?”

“Stop saying that!” You pointed an angry finger at him. “Stop telling me you like the back of my neck!”

“Why? It’s a great neck.” Tom defended himself and his compliment, unintentionally making the situation worse. Your eyes widened as you balled your hands into fists and looked at the ceiling.

“UGH.” You gripping the sides of your head and spun in a frustrated circle.

“What is your problem?” Tom asked in exasperation as he watched your freak out.

“You! You’re my problem.” You yelled. “I can’t get you or your stupid compliment out of my head.”

“So that’s what this is about? You’re being weird because I complimented you?” Tom asked, a little hurt but even more confused.

“It’s not that you complimented me, Tom.” You shook your head in defeat. “It’s that you gave me that compliment.”

“I don’t get it. I don’t get what the big deal is.” Tom sighed in frustration. He was at the end of his rope trying to figure out what he did wrong.

“There is no deal. Just drop it, okay? Can we please drop it?” You took his hands in yours as you begged him. Tom could see the desperation in his eyes and as much as he wanted to get to the bottom of why his comment set you off, he cared about your feelings more than his own.

“Fine.” Tom agreed, not wanting to push you if you didn’t want to be pushed. You gave him a appreciative smile, still holding his hands in yours. After squeezing his hands to show you were grateful to him for dropping the subject, you went to leave the room. In the few short paces to the door, you heard Tom sigh. You stopped in his doorway, resting your hand on the doorframe. Tom looked at you longingly as you stood there, eyes landing on the back of your neck. It occurred to you what he was doing, making a compromise for your sake. He wasn’t satiated with your answer but was willing to accept it to make you happy, and somehow, that made everything worse.

“I didn’t know how to react.” The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could consider the repercussions of this particular conversation. The very conversation you and Tom had carefully choreography your relationship to dance around.

The conversation where you admitted that you both wanted to be more than what you were.

“What?” Tom asked, not understanding your statement. You craned your neck slightly, looking at him over your shoulder as you sighed.

“I didn’t know how to react to your compliment.” You repeated. “That’s why I’ve been weird. And that’s why I’ve been wearing my hair up. I didn’t know how to react.”

Your eyes locked with Tom as you stood on opposite sides of the room, feeling every inch of the distance between you.

“Oh.” Tom spoke softly, eyes dropping to the floor.

“You can’t just tell me you like the back of my neck. You can’t.” You shook your head and shut your eyes, unable to look at him in your vulnerable state.

“Why?” Tom asked desperately, wishing you could just be honest with him, even if he wasn’t being entirely honest with you.

“I’m sorry.” You sighed and turned away again. “I can’t do this.”

“What’s wrong?” Tom pleaded. “We have not been able to act normal around each other ever since I sent you that stupid text. Why did it mess everything up? I can’t compliment my friend?”

“Not compliments like that.” You protested breathlessly. “You can tell me you like my ponytail but you can’t tell me you like the back of my neck.”

“Why? What am I missing?” Tom asked in a forlorn attempt to get some understanding. “Is there some compliment rule book I’m not following?”

“No. It’s just...” You shrugged and you trailed off. “Friends can like my hairstyle, okay? They can tell me my hair looks nice or cute or whatever and that’s fine.”

“Okay.” Tom tried to follow.

“Liking the back of my neck, Tom…”, your sentence tampered off as you nervously combed your fingers through the end of your braid.

“What?” Tom asked. “Please tell me.”

“That’s a boyfriend thing.” You finally admitted, and the air thickened in the room. “That’s something a boyfriend would notice. A really, really good one, at that.”

Just about every emotion hit Tom at once, making him stumble backwards a little as he processed your words. You had just cut the wire you had both been avoiding, and now the bomb had gone off. You would never be just friends again. Even if the conversation ended amicably, your relationship would never go back to what it was.

“Oh.” Tom said, squeezing his eyes shut as he regretted his pathetic answer.

“Look, Tommy.” You sighed and stepped further into his room. “I’ve always put my relationships in boxes. I have friends in one, crushes in the other. That’s how it’s always been. But you,” you shrugged helplessly and folded your arms, “you blur the line. You fall in both boxes. And when you tell me things like liking the back of my neck”, you looked at him in anguish, “you blur the line even more. You blur it so much that I can’t even tell where you fall. I don’t see any boxes. All I see is you.”

The corner of Tom’s mouth twitched, curving into a smile at you admission. He took a step closer to you, taking one of your braids between his fingers and toying with it.

“Have I ever told you I like the bridge of your nose?” Tom began. “I like the way it sits on your face. It’s like the bouquet of flowers in the middle of the table.”

“Tom.” You tried you stop him before he made irreparable damage to your friendship.

“Your collarbones look more prominent when you wear silver necklaces, but softer when you wear gold ones. You only wear gold ones if you’re wearing red or green, though.” He continued. “You love putting highlighter on your collarbones when your outfit leaves them exposed, but your absolute favorite thing to do is put blush on your nose. You never skip that. Even on days when you’re tired.”

“You don’t have to do this.” You shook your head, wordlessly begging with him to stop.

“Your pony tail is always lopsided because you lean on your hand when you write or type, and I think that’s wildly endearing. It also gives me a better view of the back of your neck, but we don’t have to talk about that.” He cracked a smile, and you did too. “You can’t tell jokes because you get too excited and give the punchline away. It annoys Harry but I think it’s adorable. Your socks never match and you can’t sleep unless your closet doors are closed. It makes you too nervous.”

“Please-“

“You pretend to scratch your nose when you’re uncomfortable in a conversation and need a break from making eye contact. You don’t do it with me but you do it with Harry sometimes when you can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic.” Tom recalled. “You always do it when you’re talking to our neighbor to the left because he makes you feel uneasy. Do you need me to go on?”

“No.” You said quickly. “What point are you trying to make here?”

“I’m trying to say that if these are boyfriend things, I’m okay with that. That’s just how I love you.” He said passionately. “I notice things. I notice everything that makes you up. So I’m sorry if that confuses things for you, but I’m also not sorry. You’re too good not to notice.”

Your eyebrows went up as your jaw slacked like your face was being pulled by a string. Your hand went to your necklace, a delicate gold chain with your initial hanging from it. It was a gift from Tom two Christmas’s ago, and you wore it every time you wore red or green. You didn’t have to say it, but both of you knew you were wearing green underneath Toms hoodie. Your mind was an ocean of words but none of them were making their way to your mouth. You stood there in silence and your hand moved to the back of your neck, finding a home there.

“Y/n, I’m sorry.” Tom sighed when he gaged your reaction. “I didn’t mean to overstep.”

“You always use the blue mug in the morning.” You said after a beat of silence. “You use it in the morning but never at any other time of the day. I don’t know why you do it but you do. I always thought you never let anyone else use the blue mug until you made me tea in it after my breakup with Brad. I swear, the tears stopped falling right then and I think you noticed that because you always give me that mug when I’m sad.” You laughed softly. “Your hair stylist combs your hair to the left but you like it all pushed back. You always leave two buttons unbuttoned on your shirts and you leave your closet doors open when you sleep. It drives me crazy but you do.”

Toms lips melted into a firm line as tears filled his eyes. He always felt like a book that only he could understand, but you had just interpreted the pages. He was rendered speechless as you revealed all the things you noticed about Tom but never spoke about.

“I notice too.” You said softly. “Maybe not the back of your neck, but I notice.”

Tom smiled brightly at you, feeling his heart swell just from the sight of you. He looked down bashfully and stepped closer to you, your chests touching once again.

“I, uh, I started leaving my closet doors open as a kid so Sully from Monsters Inc would have an easier time getting in my room.” Tom admitted. “I used to wait up to meet him and I never broke that habit.”

“Oh my God.” You chuckled and wiped a tear you hadn’t even realized had fallen. “You’re an adult.”

Tom laughed along with you, a comfortable silence replacing the sadness of the room with your highest hopes.

“You’re my best friend.” Tom said suddenly as his laughter died down.

“And you’re mine.” You told him.

“I don’t want you like a best friend.” He shook his head rapidly as he put his hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a kiss. You put your hands on either side of his face and pulled him impossibly closer, taking the chance to grip the curls on the back of his neck. Tom smiles against your lips and grabbed both your braid in one hand, tugging them firmly to deepen the kiss.

“These damn braids.” Tom groaned, making you laugh into the kiss.

“You should’ve told me you liked the back of my neck sooner.” You said between kisses.

“I hadn’t seen that episode of Grey’s Anatomy yet.” Tom spoke breathlessly as he pulled you in for another heated kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair before pulling away suddenly when you processed what he said.

“Wait, what?”

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poorcinderelly · 3 years

Text

Changing Minds

Sequel to "Perfectly Fine"

Author: poorcinderelly

Rating: PG13 (mentions of sex, swearing, and alcohol)

Pairing: Tom Holland/Reader

Disclaimer: This work is purely fiction and not-for-profit fan activity. It is not intended to infringe on any rights by and of the companies and/or individuals involved in the production of any series mentioned here.

Word Count: 7,582

Notes: So I did not expect "Perfectly Fine" to get as much attention as it did. Between here and AO3, it was read at least three hundred times! I know it's kind of small compared to what other fics get, but I'm pretty happy with it. More importantly, I'm happy that you guys seem to like it! Sorry, it took so long to get the second part out; I have been busy with RL and I also really wanted it to be the best it could be. Also, there will definitely be a third and final part to this, so be on the lookout for that. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy it!

Here's the AO3 link, too!

One year earlier

You plopped down on the left side of the bed, trying to catch your breath. Your chest felt hot and your limbs felt like they could be made out of pudding. A light layer of sweat covered your entire body and your long hair splayed out across the one pillow that somehow managed to stay on the bed. You turned over to look over at Tom, who was trying to catch his breath himself. His eyes were closed and his brown eyelashes rested perfectly on top of his cheekbones, his smooth chest rising and falling with every breath he took.

He turned over to look at you and gave you a weak smile. "You okay, babes?" he asked, his breath finally slowing back down to a normal pace. You nodded; you were more than okay. He reached over and pulled you into him, untangling the blanket from between your bare bodies as he did so. You rested your head on his chest, listening to the beat of his heart, making light circles across his body as he ran his fingers gently through your hair.

You both stayed like that for a while, enjoying the sounds of the other's breathing and the waves crashing outside the window. You were about to drift off to sleep when you heard Tom wearily ask, "Can I say something cheesy?"

You laughed and said, "Sure."

Tom stifled a yawn. "I wish we could stay like this forever."

It felt like Tom just unlocked a chest that contained every ounce of emotion you had felt for him deep inside you. Almost immediately, tears formed at the corner of your eyes and you did your best to stifle them so Tom would not notice. You quickly blinked them away and turned up to look at him. He was about to fall asleep; his brown eyes were halfway open and a tired smile formed on his face. You reached up, running your hand through his curly brown hair and planting a gentle kiss on his nose.

"I love you, Tom." You meant every word of it, down to the last syllable.

The yawn that Tom was fighting off appeared, but he still managed to utter an, "I love you, too," before drifting off to sleep. You resumed your previous position, your head on his chest and arm around his waist, letting sleep consume you.

==============================

Six months later

You laid awake in bed, staring at the alarm clock on your bedside table, its bright red letters spelling out 5:45 AM. It was as if it was mocking you.

You rolled over in bed, pulling the spare pillow over your face. Today was your last day at Jessica's apartment. Despite Jessica assuring you that you could continue to stay with her as long as you wanted, you knew it was time to move on. You had found a comfortable one-bedroom apartment in the Upper East Side and you were set to move in in just a couple of days. All of your new furniture was there, but you still had to move the five boxes of things you kept at Jessica's place to your new one, which is what you were planning to do today. That is if your brain allowed you to get some sleep.

It had been exactly six months since you saw Tom last. You did your best to avoid reading about him on social media, but even though you managed to cultivate a protective bubble around you, some news still managed to find its way through. The last thing you saw was that he was through filming his last Spider-Man movie and that he was doing a press tour for Cherry. You did not hear any news about his new girlfriend, though, for which you were grateful. You felt more at ease than you were a few months ago, but every once in a while, you found yourself deeply missing him. Especially on nights where you had trouble sleeping.

You tossed back over to the other side of the bed, reaching for your phone. You opened your messages and composed a new one, writing Tom's name in the "To:" box, but you stopped. "What the fuck am I doing?" you thought. You closed the message and put your phone back on the nightstand. Both you and Tom have moved on; you both made your peace with each other and apologized. It was time to let go of the past and just move forward.

"But I just can't," you thought. You curled yourself up into a fetal position, clasping your hands together to your chest, crying softly as you finally drifted off to sleep.

==============================

I do recall now the smell of the rain Fresh on the pavement I ran off the plane That July 9th The beat of your heart It jumps through your shirt I can still feel your arms

The wheels of the plane landing at Heathrow airport jolted you awake. You stretched, rubbed your eyes, and waited impatiently for the signal to stand up. You could not wait to get off of this plane. The trip had been a disaster from the start.

It began when an interview with Vogue magazine ran over, causing you to be late getting to the airport. Although you were able to get to your gate by the skin of your teeth, you realized you put your passport in the wrong pocket, causing you to take everything out of your carry-on bag to find it. Once you were able to get on the plane, you landed in Detroit without any issues. The layover there was only supposed to be an hour until you were forced to stay there for an extra two hours and switch flights because there was apparently engine trouble with the first plane.

By the time you landed in London, it was a little past ten o'clock at night. You made your way through the gate, with your carry-on bag over your shoulder. Your body felt so tired and all you wanted to do was shower and climb into bed. After getting your passport stamped, you continued to linger around the gate, hoping to see a glimpse of Tom. It was not as crowded as you expected it to be, which you hoped would make it easier to find him. You made your way to the sitting area by the gate and stopped when you saw a familiar blue and white tie-dye hoodie in one of the chairs. Tom was slouched in the chair, wearing sweats and looking at his phone in his hand. He pulled the hood of his hoodie over his head, but his brown curls were still sticking out all over the place. To the left and right of him, were his brothers Harry and Paddy, both sleeping in their chairs.

When you began making your way closer to them, Tom looked up from his phone, and a big smile burst on his face. "Y/N! YOU MADE IT!!!" he whooped, shooting from the chair and racing over to you. He immediately pulled you into his arms, wrapping both of his arms around your body and pulling you into him. You dropped your carry-on to the floor and returned his hug, burying your face in his chest. The familiar smell of citrus entered your nose and you could literally feel his heart beating through the cotton material of his hoodie. You were home.

You looked up when you felt him gently cup the side of your face and pull you in for a kiss. It felt like your body was going to melt right then and there. You had missed his kisses so damn much.

"God I missed you," he said quietly against your lips. It was as if he read your mind.

"I missed you too," you responded, gently yanking on his hoodie and pulling him closer.

It was by this time Paddy and Harry woke up and interrupted your embrace by yanking you from Tom's arms and hugging you tightly and bursting with excitement. Just being around them brought back all of the energy that the trip zapped from you. It had been a long time since you had seen both of them, and they were so eager to catch up with you right then and there. "Lads! Hey, lads! You'll have the next three weeks to catch up with Y/N," Tom chuckled. "And I don't think she wants to catch up with you in the middle of Heathrow!"

And with that, Tom took you by the hand and you both made your way over to baggage claim, with Harry and Paddy in tow. After picking up your suitcase, you followed Tom to the exit and immediately felt relief when you stepped outside. There was a light breeze in the air and you breathed in the smell of rain, letting it take over your senses. You heard the slushing sounds that the cars made as they drove through the puddles on the asphalt, causing the ground to shimmer under the street lamps. As you waited for the next cab to pull up, you gave Tom's hand a gentle squeeze and rested your head on his shoulder.

"You alright, love?" you heard him ask.

You smiled. "Yeah," you answered, "just glad to finally be home."

==============================

The next day was rough. As expected, you got a late start thanks to your lack of sleep. Still, with the help of coffee and Jessica, you managed to get all of the boxes out of Jessica's apartment, packed tightly in her car, and up into your new place.

It did not go unnoticed to Jessica that you were a little morose. Throughout the day she did little things to try to cheer you up, such as buying you lunch and trying to take your mind off things. She knew that this step - moving into a new place, living on your own for the first time in two and half years - was a big one and she did her best to try to make it go as smoothly as possible. "I definitely don't deserve a friend like her," you thought.

She also did not pass up on suggesting that you stay one more night at her place, which you refused. But she stayed with you all day, helping you unpack your things and re-arrange your furniture. You both split a pizza for dinner and watched a cheesy movie on Netflix. After Jessica left around ten, you took a shower and crawled into your queen size bed, basking in the smoothness of the sheets and pillows. You were grateful that sleep came quickly.

You spent the following weeks getting used to the place, trying to make it more like home. You had trouble sleeping one night - which had become the norm at this point - and decided to go through the last two boxes of things that you brought from Jessica's apartment that were stacked in the corner of the dining area. They mostly contained random items like colored pencils, a box of tea, random kitchen utensils, a few books, and some DVDs. You were just about to throw the last box out when you noticed another one in the corner. "Hm," you thought, "I guess I forgot this one."

You grabbed your scissors and sat down in front of it, ready to open the box. That was when you saw your name written in the familiar scrawl.

Your heart sank. You remembered what this box was now and what was inside of it.

You put your scissors back on the table and picked up the box. Just like that night six months ago, you tucked it under your arm and brought it to your bedroom. You slid open your closet door with your foot and dropped the box to the floor, sliding it to the back behind your coats and shoes.

You made a note to try to open it again later. Just not now.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe And I keep up with our old friends just to ask them how you are Hope it's nice where you are

Two months had come and gone; it was now October. You had now started to develop more of a routine that consisted of doing yoga in the mornings, painting in the afternoons, and trying new recipes for dinner. You also started to go to auditions more, which your agent and publicist were grateful for. You also started to receive more scripts to read, which was something that did not happen as much before. Your agent made a joke along the lines of, "At least something good came out of that relationship," which had stung a little. But you knew she did not mean it in a malicious way; in fact, part of you agreed with her. It was nice to be working again, but it was still a little annoying that you had just now started to get all of this attention just because you were in a relationship with Tom Holland for two and a half years. Still, you knew that this was part of the game.

You still had your protective bubble up when it came to him. It was fine if your team talked about him, but you made sure that he was off-limits in interviews. That was truly the only request you made. Although you were in a slightly better place than you were a couple of months ago, your heart still felt a little tender. Jessica still kept reminding you that it was okay to feel what you feel and that it was part of the process. But it still frustrated you. Part of you wondered that if you did talk about him more with other people, would it speed up the process? But you also did not want to invite people into your private life. You and Tom worked so hard to keep the details of your relationship out of the press and as far as you knew, he was not talking about you in interviews. The least you could do was return the gesture.

It was two Saturdays before Halloween and Jessica was sleeping over. You both got drunk off of a little too many Blackheart shots and ate too much pizza while watching scary movies on Netflix. Jessica, as always, drank more than you did and you did not want her to go home in the state she was in. It was getting close to midnight when Jessica blurted out an idea. "HEY! WE SHOULD HAVE A PARTY!!"

You groaned and put your face in one of the pillows on your couch. You did not like throwing parties; hell, you did not even like attending parties. They just made you feel anxious and small, and other than your friends, you never really knew what to say to people.

"Come onnnnnnnn Y/N," Jessica begged. "This will be good for you! I'll invite some of our friends we haven't seen in a while! It will be so much fun!" Her eyes went wide and she gasped. You knew she had just come up with another idea. "WE CAN MAKE IT A COSTUME PARTY AND HAVE IT ON HALLOWEEN!"

You sighed. "I really don't know, Jess," you said. "I'm just not in a party mood right now."

Jessica gave you the look. It was a look she always gave you when she felt that you were being ridiculous. "Y/N, you have been through more shit in these past few months than anyone else I know!!" she said. "You deserve to have this party! Plus we can have it at my place!!! That way you won't have to worry about doing anything - you can just show up!"

That was a good point. "Just attending a party wouldn't be so bad," you thought. "And she's right...I do deserve to have some fun..."

"Okay, let's do it!"

Jessica yelled with excitement and downed another shot of Blackheart.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You thought that fate was testing you when you realized that Halloween was on a Saturday this year. There was no way you were going to be able to dip out at the last minute, nor were your other friends that Jessica invited. Still, you worked up the courage to walk up to Jessica's apartment, wearing your costume. You decided to dress up as Wanda from WandaVision, only you went with her costume from the comics and not the one from the cinematic universe. After Jessica - who decided to dress up as Agatha Harkness from WandaVision - let you inside, you made your way to the kitchen for some of Jessica's infamous Halloween punch. You definitely were going to need some of this to help you get through the night.

Just as you expected, you spent most of the night standing in the corner by the television in the living room. You did catch up with some old friends, though, which was nice. They all went to Julliard with you and Jessica and had all managed to get jobs in the fields they majored in, whether it be theater, dance, or something else. There were some people there that you did not know though, but you figured they were probably other friends of Jessica's or friends of your classmates' that you also have not met before. You decided to keep your distance from them as much as you could; you really did not want to talk to anyone new tonight.

But the more the party continued on into the night, you found yourself starting to mingle a little more. You sang karaoke and even played Mario Kart on Jessica's Nintendo Switch. After losing another round of Mario Kart, you handed the controller to one of your Julliard friends and decided to return to the kitchen for a glass of water. The kitchen was already occupied by two other guests, whom you have never seen before. Both were in costume, one was dressed up as a cat and the other one was dressed up as a sexy sailor and they seemed to be debating something. Fortunately, they did not seem to notice you. Just as you were about to open the fridge for the Brita pitcher, you finally heard what they were talking about.

"GIRL NO WAY! Tom Holland is definitely the superior Spider-Man!" said the cat.

The sexy sailor scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Andrew Garfield is a thousand times better! At least he was able to make Peter more competent instead of a whiny idiot."

The cat groaned in frustration. "But Tom is so hot, though!" she said. "I wonder if he's still dating that other actress? The one that was in that Netflix show that one season?"

"Shit!" you thought. You quickly shut the fridge and exited the kitchen but lingered outside the doorway. Your curiosity was getting the better of you.

"Nah, they broke up a while ago," the sailor said matter-of-factly. You heard the cat girl gasp. "NO! They were so cute together! Wowww, they were really together for a long time then, huh? I wonder why they broke up..."

The sailor did not answer right away. "I'm not sure. He's apparently dating that model now, though. You know, the one that's always in those Gucci ads? I read that he cheated on that actress with her!"

It felt like your heart dropped in the pit of your stomach. It turned out your suspicions were true after all. Tom really did cheat on you with her.

You could not listen to the conversation anymore. You bolted from the entranceway, trying to make your way to the balcony. You heard Jessica ask what was wrong, but you did not stop to respond. After pushing through some of the party guests, you made your way to the sliding glass door, slid it open, and stepped outside. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that no one was out there. You could also hear the excuses that Jessica was telling some of the guests inside, but you honestly did not care how you looked right now. You just needed to catch your breath and process everything you just heard.

You pulled up one of the chairs and sat in it, putting your face in your hands, trying to hold back your tears. Everything you had suspected about Tom leading up to the breakup was true. It explained everything - the distance, him being short with you, all of it. You did not want to be right; you really hoped that it was something else - something, anything other than this.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "It's not fair!" you thought.

It truly felt like you were watching him move on without you. He was out in the world, prancing around with her, while you felt frozen in time. "Why couldn't he have just been honest with me?? Why did he keep this from me??? Why???" You hated that you had to find out the truth from two nobodies at a party eight months after everything ended. You were starting to feel angry now; you just wanted to punch something - anything. You wanted to scream. You wanted to just scream and cry.

Flashes of moments you had with him started appearing behind your eyes. The time he surprised you on the set of a photoshoot with a single daisy he had picked outside the studio. How whenever you both walked through crowds, he would grab your hand and gently squeeze it twice. Meeting each other at the airports - him at JFK and you at Heathrow. Every time he touched you, whether it was the way he put his hand on your waist whenever you went to an event, the way he held your hand whenever he could, the way his hugs felt especially after not seeing each other for a long time, and the way he held you in bed late at night. You also thought how you would sometimes lay awake at night and just watch him sleep, and as you listened to him breathe, your heart just swelled with love.

But those days were gone.

The sliding door to the balcony opening pulled you out of your thoughts. "I found her Jess!"

Your breath hitched in your throat. You had heard that voice before. You looked up and your eyes grew wide as saucers when you saw who was standing in front of you.

"Hey Y/N....been a while, hasn't it?" It was Harrison fucking Osterfield, Tom's best friend.

"Harrison???" you gasped, gaping at him as if he were from another planet. Despite being dressed up as an eighteenth-century nobleman that looked like got mauled to death by a monster, you knew it was him. Those piercing eyes gave it away.

He shrugged his shoulders and gave a gentle smirk. He offered you a bottle of cider, which you took. "Mind if sit down?" he asked, setting his bottle on the table. You nodded and gestured to the empty chair next to you. The overall shock wore off and now the air was beginning to feel tense. It had been a long time since you last saw him, even longer since you last saw Tom. Your mind began to race. "What do I say? Do I even say anything at all? What if he brings up Tom? Does he know what happened? What if he asks? What do I say if he does? What if -"

"How have you been?" he asked, awkwardly. You realized that he was beginning to feel the tension too. You shifted in your seat. "....Uh....okay, I guess," you answered. There was a moment of silence. "What brings you here? D-Did Jess invite you?" you stammered.

Harrison popped open his bottle of cider. "Yeah, she did," Harrison chuckled. "It was kind of out of the blue, but I haven't seen her in a while so I'd thought I'd come." You knew that Jess and Harrison hit it off after you invited her to your Fourth of July party with Tom almost a year ago. It surprised you a little that she would continue to talk to him after the breakup, but it did not make you angry. You knew they had a bond and honestly, the fact that your drama did not come between them made you feel relieved.

"It's okay that I'm here right? I don't want to make this awkward..."

"Fuck!" You decided that it was time to pop open the cider. "Say something, you idiot!" You shook your head and answered, "No...I'm glad you're here." You took a sip of the cider. "Like you said, it's been a long time."

That's when it dawned on you that if Harrison was in town, then that means there was a possibility that Tom was in town too. This caused you to grip the body of the cider bottle.

You both sat there in silence for a few moments. You took in the sounds of the commotion going down on the street below: the honking horns, the screeching tires, anything to distract you from the building pressure in your stomach. You thought that Harrison was feeling it too, but he definitely was not showing it. But he was always poised like that; it was one thing that you admired about him.

"You remember that night that all of us went and got hammered and we ended up back here on this balcony?"

You laughed. You immediately knew what Harrison was talking about. "Yeah, and Jessica kept doing her impression of Arnold Schwarzenegger from Predator?"

"GET TO THA CHOPPAH!"

You both burst out laughing. "Yeah, that's the one!" Harrison tossed his head back in the chair. "I thought Tom was going to piss himself," he laughed. You chuckled and thought back to that night. Tom laughed so hard that his face turned bright red and he started crying. His laughs had turned into squeaks as he gasped for air. Since then, he always brought up the "get to tha choppah!" line, especially during quiet moments between you two.

Harrison had noticed you had gone silent and he took another drink of the cider. "I hope I'm not out of line, but he does miss you, you know."

You did not give yourself time to process what Harrison just said; you just reacted. "What the fuck, Harrison?" you snapped. You shot up from your chair. All of the emotions you felt before Harrison sat down began to boil over. "Was this your plan the whole time??? T-To just come here and...and drop this bomb on me???" You could feel yourself wanting to cry but you did your best to hold back your tears. "Also, how dare you get involved! What makes you think you know the full story of everything that happened between us? Fuck, I didn't get the entire truth eight months ago! I HAD TO FIND OUT ABOUT IT TONIGHT! He didn't have the fucking balls to tell me to my face, I had to find out from strangers!" Your face suddenly felt cold and that was when you realized that the tears you were trying so hard to hold back were finally free. You glared at Harrison, who continued to sit in his chair, chewing on his lower lip. He never said a word as you screamed at him, just patiently waited. There were more thoughts that were racing through your mind, but you could not compel yourself to say them. They were not for Harrison; they were for Tom, and honestly, Harrison did not deserve to hear them. You clenched your fists and tried to catch your wavering breath. That was when Harrison got to his feet, still holding the bottle of cider.

"Look Y/N, I'm not going to pretend that I know every detail of what happened between you two. I only know what he told me -"

"And what did he tell you exactly? That he cheated on me??" you spat. "Because that's apparently what he did!"

Harrison sighed. "I just know he hasn't been the same since you guys broke up." His voice never wavered; it was still calm and leveled. "When you were together, it was the best I've ever seen him. Now...it's just different, believe me."

You sighed and reached up to wipe your tears away. "That's not my fault, Haz," you retorted. "From where I'm standing he did this to himself. He did this to us." You crossed your arms over your chest. "And honestly, I don't appreciate how you're trying to paint me as the bad person here."

Harrison let out another sigh and reached a hand to rub the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Y/N, truly," he admitted. "It's just Tom's my best mate..." Harrison's voice drifted off and he used his free hand to grab a folded piece of paper from his pocket.

"I know this is asking a lot. I know I'm being completely out of line...and I can't imagine what else you could be feeling right now," he said, reaching his hand out towards you, "but please take this."

There was a tinge of desperation in Harrison's voice that you have never heard before. Although you knew better, you took the piece of paper from Harrison's hand and opened it. It was a phone number written in a familiar scrawl. You recognized both right away.

"He didn't know if you had deleted it or not..." Harrison quickly explained, his voice drifting off near the end.

You shook your head. "I never did."

==============================

I do remember the swing of your step The life of the party, you're showing off again And I roll my eyes and then You pull me in I'm not much for dancing But for you I did

Even though you did not like parties, you loved going to them with Tom. He had known early on in your relationship that parties were not your favorite things in the world, which caused him to do everything he could to ease your anxieties.

It was New Year's Eve and you were standing in the corner of the reception hall, holding a glass of champagne. Tom had invited you to a party that was being thrown by a friend of his family at their home outside of London. It was a rather large gathering; you estimated that there were more than fifty people there. You had spent the first hour or so introducing yourself to the party guests, with Tom by your side. As you both moved around the room, his hand never left the small of your back. Feeling his fingertips touch your bare skin never failed to make you feel so at peace. It was like you had your own personal anchor.

You snapped out of your daze when Tom emerged from the crowd with two small plates of food from the buffet table, which you graciously accepted. Tom took you by lead you through the next room and out a side door, which lead into a massive garden that was covered in dim lights and full of bushes that you surely knew would be in full bloom in the warmer months. You continued to follow him down a stone path, past at a glorious Fiore stone fountain and some benches, until you finally reached the entrance to the sun porch. Tom flicked the light switch and you sat down on the couch. It was a pretty cozy sun porch; the room was covered with windows and in the corner was a small woodstove. On either side of the couch, were two chairs and there was a coffee table in the middle of the room.

"Be right back," Tom said as he hurried out the door. He was not gone for long though and when he returned, he had a couple of firewood logs in his hands. You watched as he tossed them inside the sun porch and picked up the little matchbox on the coffee table, striking it, and throwing it inside before closing the door. The smell of burned wood entered your nose and the room started to get warmer. "There we are!" he said proudly.

He went to join you on the couch. "Thought you could use a break," he said, picking up his own plate of food. "Thank you," you said, scooting closer to him, "you're just so wonderful." You know that was mostly the champagne talking, but you still meant every word of it.

Tom smirked. "Well, I do try hard darling." You giggled and picked up one of the sandwiches on your plate. God, you were starving.

The two of you sat there in silence as you ate. It was not awkward; rather it was comfortable. You could hear the ruckus of the party through the walls, but it was not bothersome. You were just happy sitting next to Tom on this comfortable couch, hearing the wood crack as it burned in the woodstove. When you were through with your food, you sat your plate on the table and snuggled closer to him, resting your head on his chest. You smiled when you felt his lips kiss the top of your head. You saw Tom glance at the time on his phone. It was eleven o'clock.

"Time to get started!" Tom announced getting to his feet. He turned around to face you, scrolling through his phone.

"What do you mean?" you asked.

"You'll seeeeee," Tom teased, grinning. He continued to scroll through his phone for a few moments, while you continued to eye him suspiciously. "Ah, here we are!" He put his phone behind his back, held out his hand, and said, "Y/N, may I have this dance?"

Your face immediately turned hot. You giggled nervously and bit your bottom lip cheekily. Tom knew that you were not much for dancing, but there was just something about the way he was standing before you in the dim light, his hand held out, his curly hair smooth and slicked back with a gentle smile on his face that made you change your mind. You took his hand and then began to hear Donna Lewis' I Love You Always and Forever start to play on his phone's speaker. This was one of your favorite songs.

Tom set the phone on the table and pulled you into him. His left hand rested on your lower back, while his right laced his fingers with yours. The two of you swayed to the slow melody that lasted for a few minutes at the beginning of the song but when the tempo changed and started getting faster, Tom surprised you by spinning you around and picking up the pace. You laughed as you danced along, holding onto Tom's hands as you both moved around the room.

You continued to stay in the sun porch the rest of the night, dancing along to every song that Tom had put on the playlist. Some were fast like Hooked On A Feeling by Blue Swede, The Power of Love by Huey Lewis & The News (from Back to the Future, one of Tom's favorite films), and Mad Love by The Neon Trees, and some were more slow and sweet like All Through The Night by Cyndi Lauper, Butterflies by Kacey Musgraves, and I Knew I Loved You by Savage Garden. Although you loved every moment when you danced with him, it was honestly a lot more fun watching Tom come up with his own dance moves to some of the songs.

Just as the last song was playing, Tom picked up his phone. Both of you noticed the time - it was one minute until midnight. You pushed the loose strands of hair out of your face; your bun was starting to come loose. Sometime during the dancing, you had kicked off your shoes and Tom had removed his blazer, wearing only his white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"We should get back to the party," you said, trying to fix your hair and find the blazer and your shoes. Tom pushed a few more buttons on his phone and set it back down on the table. "Let's just stay here," he suggested. You smiled and reached for his hand. As he pulled you back into your arms, you could hear the party guests counting down the last thirty seconds of the new year from inside.

"I had a lovely time tonight, Mr. Holland," you said coyly, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"Mmm, so did I Miss Y/L/N," he said, his hand rubbing your lower back.

"I look forward to seeing you again next year!" you teased. Tom threw his head back with laughter.

The countdown from inside the house grew louder and louder. "TEN...NINE...EIGHT...SEVEN..."

You and Tom gently swayed back and forth as it continued to get closer to midnight. You knew there was not enough time to express how much you loved him and how much you loved everything about tonight. As you took him in - his tired brown eyes, his messy dark hair, and the fading scent of his cologne - you mustered an, "I love you, Tom" under your breath.

"SIX...FIVE...FOUR...THREE..."

"I love you too, Y/N," he said. His voice was low and tired, but it was sincere. You could just feel it.

You kissed as the guests screamed, "Happy New Year!" from inside the house.

==============================

Not many of the party guests notice you return from the balcony, which you were grateful for. You quickly made your way to Jessica's bedroom to retrieve your coat, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. As you closed the door behind you with your coat in your hands, you were met with Jessica who was standing somberly at the end of the hall.

"Everything okay?" she asked, nervously, rubbing her fingers together.

You sighed. "Not really, but I'll find a way to deal."

"I...ugh, I'm so sorry for inviting Haz," she stammered. "I...I thought that" -

You cut Jessica off by pulling her into a hug. "I'm not mad about that, Jess, truly," you assured her.

"Okay," she said, sounding relieved, but still worried. "Call me later?"

"Yeah, I'll call you tomorrow," you said, pulling away. "I just want to get home right now."

You knew it was rude to leave without saying goodbye to anyone, especially your Julliard friends, but you truly wanted nothing more than to escape. You figured that Jessica would explain things to them anyway; maybe not the full story, but just enough to make up for it. You made your way to the lobby of Jessica's building, your shoes clacking against the concrete floor. You decided to take an Uber home and as you sat in the backseat, you reached into your pocket to make sure that the piece of paper with Tom's phone number on it was still there.

Even though you still had his number in your phone and did not really need it, it comforted you to feel the wrinkly texture of the folded paper against your fingers.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

You did not get much sleep that night. You tried to shut your eyes after you changed out of your costume and taking a shower, but your mind was still racing over everything that Harrison told you about an hour ago.

Something took hold of you around 2:30 AM and after tossing and turning, you threw the covers aside and got out of bed. After flicking on the bedroom light, you lightly stomped over to your closet and slid open the doors, tossing aside shoes and other items until you found the box of items that Tom had given you on the last day you saw each other.

You pushed the items you tossed aside and sat down on the floor, ripping open the top of the box. Your favorite tea mug was now cracked, which did not surprise you considering how you tossed it around. Tom had got you that mug when you first moved in together. It was white and round, with an image of a sleeping fox on the front of it. You took the ceramic pieces out and set them aside, making a mental note to glue them back together. You continued to go through the box, taking out the spare cell phone charger, the old pair of headphones, and the paintbrush set. You unwound the blue and grey plaid scarf and pulled it up to your nose, taking in the familiar scent. It still smelled like pine needles from that cabin trip you went on with Tom and his family that one Christmas and the familiar smell of the space that you and Tom shared together. You set the scarf next to the previous items and looked at the bottom of the box: the small, red photo album was still there.

You took a deep breath and picked up the album, tracing your fingers over the cover. The album itself was nothing special; you found it at a greeting card store one day and thought it would be a good gift for Tom. You turned the cover and slowly turned the pages, reliving the past - the life you had with Tom. Some of the photos you had taken, but there were some that he also took. Most of them were from the trips you had taken together - the cabin trip that one Christmas, Fourth of July in Malibu, Christmas and New Years with Tom and his family, and the trip to Hawaii you took for your one-year anniversary. There were some candid ones that were in there as well - the night that Harrison talked about at the party, a photo of you wrapped up in the duvet that was on the bed you shared sticking your tongue out, one you sneakily took of Tom sleeping on the couch, and another one Tom took of you reading a book on the balcony of your old apartment.

There were so many memories in this little album. Some moments you forgot happened, such as the random photoshoot you and Tom decided to throw in your living room and you swapped clothes and the first time you decided to cook a whole chicken for the two of you, only you ended up burning the entire bird and there was a photo of you upset over it in the kitchen to prove it.

Although you were not smiling in every photo, there was definitely joy and love. You thought back to the conversation you had with Harrison and wondered if what he said was true. Did Tom really miss these moments you shared together?

You got to your feet and returned to bed. You continued to look at the photos again before your eyes became too heavy and you finally fell asleep.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

And I hope the sun shines And it's a beautiful day And something reminds you You wish you had stayed You can plan for a change in weather and time But I never planned on you changing your mind

You woke the next morning with the sun blaring its rays through the window and kicked yourself for not closing the curtains last night. As you pulled your blanket over your head to shield your eyes, you heard the sound of a thump on the floor. It took you a few moments to remember that you opened the box the night before and went to sleep looking at the photo album.

You continued to drift in and out of sleep for the next few hours. Your head ached and you just felt so wiped out. You replayed the night's events over in your head: you went to Jessica's Halloween party, you overheard those two girls confirm your suspicion of Tom cheating on you, and Harrison showed up and decided to drop a bomb on you, which was that Tom apparently missed you. You still had no idea what you were going to do about that.

You rolled back over to the bedside table and picked up your phone. It was almost half-past noon; you could not believe that you slept in so late. Despite the fact that you were annoyed at the sun for waking you up, you could tell that it was going to be a beautiful autumn day. You began to scroll through your notifications and noticed a lot of text messages and a couple of missed calls from Jessica. You were just about to go through them all when the sound of the buzzer almost jolted you out of bed.

"Who the fuck could that be?" you thought. The buzzer rang again as you got out of bed and put your robe on. You scurried your way to the door and pressed the button. "Yes, who is it?" you asked, stifling a yawn.

You were not prepared for what was on the other end.

"Uh....hey, Y/N," a familiar English accent said through the speaker. You jumped back a little, your heart pounding in your throat. "Holy fuck!" you thought. "What is Tom doing here??" You clutched your robe tighter around you as Tom's voice came through again.

"It's me...c-can I come up?"

#tom holland #harrison osterfield #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #taylor swift #last kiss #fic: changing minds #fandom: rpf #rpf: tom holland #ch: ofc #ch: reader

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landothemuppet · 2 years

Text

let the rain pour on you | (t.h) chapter one

☽✧ chapter one ✧☾

synopsis ➼ Rain, sun, fertility. Three little words; a coveted title.

The feud of pride and combativeness for the title of God has rotted the existence of Tom and his brother since they were children. Only one condition is imposed on them to obtain the title they desire. And when Tom’s eyes linger on you. He is convinced that you are the one who will bring him into the light. And he’s willing to do anything for it.

word count ↳ 1.5k

warning ➼ SMUT (+18) MINOR PLEASE DON'T INTERACT

n/a ➼ hello everyone ! It's finally here! The first chapter of my new serie "let the rain pour on you". Don't forget English isn't my native language. I hope you will love reading this as much i loved writing it ! Thanks to the beautiful, the kindest person here, my sweet and lovely friend @justapurrcat, she proofread this chapter, she helped me with ideas, without her, this fic wouldn't be there.

☽✧ serie masterlist ✧☾

You’ve had this dream for whole nights. The same one, over and over again.

You were naked in this immense lake where only the nothingness resonated. The thick grey mist that surrounded you, letting anxiety hover, anticipation freezing your bones more than the water already did. Everything seemed heavy around you and although you could feel the ground beneath your feet, the atmosphere made you think that, at any moment, something, someone, would grab your ankle to draw you towards the abyss of water that was this dark lake. You were wrapped in the grey haze, blinded by the mist before the storm would break out.

And the second the lightning fell, when the flash of its light bursted, you were a spectator of your own torrid scene. You were watching yourself screaming with pleasure, at the edge of an orgasm. Your back leaning against a rock while this mysterious man pounded into you with ardor. Your legs were wrapped around your partner’s hips while your hands lacerated the skin of his back in an attempt to relieve the wave of ecstasy you felt, almost overstimulated. Your screams died in your own throat as your heart threatened to let go under the ferocity of his strokes. Under the powerful adrenaline you felt, your eyes were almost rolled back due to the desire that drove you. The rain was pouring on both your bodies, already sparkling with sweat.

The spectacle was not only passive, the fire of desire, the intoxicating sensations of that burning moment burned between your thighs like hell beneath your feet. Your throat was dry but your cunt was damp like an endless cloud of rain, ready to fall on a land of drought.

And every time, you would wake up sweating. This night was no exception to the rule. With a sense of frustration, you went through your nightstand drawer to pull out your vibrator. This feeling of fullness filled you again as the object buzzed against your clitoris, a happy sigh escaping from your lips. There was nothing like the feeling you’d had with that enigmatic lover during your dream. A partner more than excellent to the attention of the feminine pleasure. But the pressure on your pussy, along with the vibrations titillating your bundle of nerves brought some satisfaction. You again felt your walls contract intermittently, your humidity facilitating access to the object that would gradually bring you closer to the orgasm that your dreams refused you. Your head sank into the pillow with a small cry stifled by the intense feeling of pleasure that you repressed in spite of yourself. Your legs squeezed against the precious object to feel the most stimulation against your skin.

It was too much for Tom, sitting on his throne, his tight pants with his excitement, his eyes full of lust, burning with the flames of his desire for you. He bursted with rage, jealous and furious for not being able to touch the one he longed for. The one he had seen during an afternoon when his ruminations had again led him to the storm. That moment when his eyes had landed on your figure. You were everywhere in his thoughts since that day.

A lightning bolt bursted, roaring thunder not far from your room as a torrent of rain hit the windows of the room. You jumped to the noise, then moaned deeper. The gesture having stretched the vibrator to the right place. You first tried to shut up, placing one hand on your mouth, but your fingers instinctively slipped down on your throat and you applied a little pressure yourself. The God of Rain crossed his eyes, pushing his fingers into the armrest of his throne.

"By Odin," he whispered in his nonexistent beard.

Your fingers continued to squeeze your throat as you fired your toy into your pussy, deeper, faster still. Only the pressure on your neck prevented you from moaning loudly.

Tom was clenching his teeth, white knuckles tightening on his seat, constrained in his pants because of his obvious erection. You seemed so pure and vile at the same time. Oh you, mistress of his nights, dominatrix of his thoughts. You were the fiery demon who would sit on him at night and keep him awake, like a representation of Füssli’s painting, but you were divinely prettier. As he pressed his signet ring against his lips, clenching his teeth in front of this sight of lust for which he could not look away, his right hand detached the button from his pants by itself, sliding to the edge of his boxer.

He knew neither your name nor the sound of your voice, apart from the wonderful moans that came out of your mouth, he could only imagine the softness of your skin, its scent, the taste of your lips and more. He could only dream of the pressure of your fingers against his dick, replacing his own hand which was pumping to relieve the influx of blood in his hard limb full of desire for you.

The rumbling of his pleasure sounded almost as loud as the roaring thunder outside. The sounds you made were excitable, seeing you without touching you was a real torture. A loud moan escaped from your lips and he threw his head back, thinking that he was the reason for your sweet sound.

Tom followed your pace, his hand pumping his hard, red, venous dick as fast as the toy came in and out of your wet pussy. With light years separating you, your grunts echoed throughout the universe in perfect harmony. Your eyes began to roll back as your legs trembled with pleasure, your arousal at its peak.

Your orgasm hit you hard, like a feeling of being sucked into the abyss of a galaxy. And as your scream moved down your throat, the sound changed. At the barrier of your slightly parted lips, your pleasure materialized in a name.

“Oh, Freyr!”

The surprise sent a chill that went through all of Tom’s divine being, a shock wave that definitely upset him. His sperm gushed from his limb, splashing over his hand and staining his underwear. His whole body was shaking and burning for you. His orgasm reasoned all over the throne room and anyone passing by could not deny the activity of the God. But his mind was as foggy as the storm he’d caused several minutes ago.

“By Freya!” Tom said with astonishment.

She was killing him, he thought. A small burst of light burst into the room followed by the delicate movement of Freya’s dress.

"Did you call me?" She exclaimed cheerfully before her expression faded, her eyes widening with surprise and disgust. "Oh by Odin, keep your… thing away from my sight, brother!"

Tom jumped, taking off several centimeters from his throne, his expression just as horrified as the one of his sister. He quickly got dressed before his smirk appeared on his face, thinking of the irony of the situation.

"Aren’t you the goddess of love and sexuality, sister?"

"Still, I don’t want to see your penis. Don’t give Loki the opportunity to kick-start their nonsense!" She said, staring at Tom with a stern expression.

The god of rain smiled in a pinch, only being able to agree with his sister. Loki bore their title of god of malice and told anyone who wanted to hear it - even those who didn’t want to - that brother and sister Freyr and Freya shared much more than a name. Tom dismissed the words of his sister and invited - ordered - her to leave his throne room, which she did without asking questions, but decided not to let this scene fall into oblivion.

You woke up with a sense of lack, frustration eating away at your being. And that feeling exasperated you even more by the simple idea that only a man could satisfy your physical needs. You sat quietly on the stool in your kitchen while your best friend looked at you in an intrigued manner.

"In a bad mood? I thought I heard the sound of your vibrator last night." she said with a mocking smile.

You looked at her, angry at those way too thin walls and dissatisfied with last night’s event. The fact that Revna pointed out the situation made you even more bitter.

"Actually... I had to finish it myself. I had this dream last night..."

"The dream?" she asked, knowing exactly what you were talking about.

"That dream, yes. And again, I woke up at the worst time."

Your roommate and best friend gave you a compassionate look. You bit violently into the buttered bread you had just made.

"Shit, girl. With this violence, I understand that the man or woman of your dreams woke you up before the orgasm."

You threw your toast in her face with a growl, Revna avoided it with some difficulty, collecting a little butter in her hair with an expression of disgust.

"I’ll go get a better coffee than your sock juice, witch."

"That’s an idea, maybe you should look for a guy who’ll shove it down your throat to put you in a better mood, too!"

You showed her your middle finger by slamming the door just after. The rain began to fall as soon as you set foot outside.

"Fuck you too!"

☽✧ TAGLIST ✧☾

@namoreno @justapurrcat @harryhollandsgirlfriend @iluvjj @sleepyamaya @mayal0pez @just-lost-inbetween-worlds

ADD YOURSELF TO THE SERIE TAGLIST

#tshwritersnet #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland au #tom holland smut #harry holland #harry holland fic #harry holland x reader #God of Rain!Harry #god!Tom #god!Harry #norse mythology!au #tom holland fanfiction #harry holland fanfiction #Freyr!Tom #God of Rain!Tom #Freyr!Harry

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peeterparkr · 4 years

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perennial;tom holland|six.

chapter six: yellow iris

↳ flower meaning: passion

chapter summary: hand holding and borrowed clothes.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angsty, fluffy?... Smut??? (IS THERE SMUT? oh my god, I don’t know but if there was it would be under the * if you didn’t want to read it)

word count: 8.8k

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles five: in which James has something to say

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

Tags aren’t working so yeah. Anyway. I don’t know what this chapter is, enjoy. Leave comments, tell me what you think. Tell me if you catch details.. yeah. Send songs, ideas, yes. Be kind.

Y/N had let the question sit in the air long enough to make it awkward. ‘Do you want to stay the night?’

The question held a lot of meaning. It was her asking him to choose her. As if in her mind staying with her meant he chose her over Cherry. Of course that probably made no sense by it’s own but in y/n’s mind it probably did.

Her heart was beating fast, it was incomprehensible. Where had that question come from? Was it really the confirmations she needed from him? Because there was something in the back of her mind trying to scream that Tom really had moved on. That same voice was asking her to move on, too. One can never really let one's first love, but maybe it was her turn to do it.

Because how many nights had y/n not waited in that sofa near the door, hoping he’d come knocking with her more yellow flowers. Stupid of her to think that.

Because this time Tom wasn’t the one that should apologize. She’d never really truly said everything she wanted to tell him.

He didn’t answer. He had only squeezed the car wheel and stared at her.

Her heart had made the question, that was for sure. Had she been sane she wouldn’t have asked anything at all. She wouldn’t have dared to speak to him. Feelings and reason trying to find separate roads but sadly colliding into each other. That’s how it worked.

But there it was the question that had proved to him that it had lingered, that there was an open spot for him. That he had never left her heart, that she regretted ever leaving his side, and that she was asking him to stay.

Funny, she was the one asking him to stay when she had been the one to leave. But though y/n had left physically, Tom had been the first one to walk out.

“Oh my god, I’m so stupid, no, what am I doing?” y/n shook her head.

“I--” Tom coughed, nervously. “I—don’t think… Uh.”

Y/N felt rejected, stupid. An idiot. She was an idiot.

“Forget it, nothing.” Y/N opened the car door, Tom only tried to stop her by taking her hand.

“No, no don’t get me wrong I’m—”

“No.” Y/N gulped. “I’m an idiot.”

“No, no, no, no,” Tom took her hand in his. “You’re not. I’m—I want to say yes.”

His hands were sweating, and he was shaking. Y/N only looked down at his hands.

“But..I don’t know if that would—I mean y/n sleeping together-”

“You really think I’m going to go from holding your hand to having sex with you?” She sassed, and then rolled her eyes.

Tom was the one who was embarrassed now. “I mean last time we flirted for five minutes we ended up with a relationship,” he snapped.

She blushed, as she coughed. “That—that’s not how it happened.”

“It kind of did,” he smirked. He paused as he looked down at her hand. He didn’t want to leave either, but he knew that staying would compromise them in a way they were not ready for yet. He knew them both.

“Would that be too bad to wish for, though?” She wondered.

He stared at her. “No, not at all.”

“No, but I don’t want you to stay for that,” she admitted, embarrassed. She didn’t, for that matter.

He hadn’t let go of her hand, “What do you want me to stay for then?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I guess I just don’t want you to leave.”

That was it. There was no further invitation to stay up all night in between the sheets, but she wanted to have him around. In a sense that she wanted him to be close.

Tom gulped. “I don’t want to leave, either.”

Y/N could notice that, he wasn’t letting go of her hand. He really didn’t want to leave because he knew that if he did, their hand holding no matter how childish would be thrown out the window and the next morning he’d have to pretend they were strangers.

“But you don’t want to stay,” y/n pointed out. And she didn’t want him to, honestly. She was in misery, and confusion. But she did. What the hell was going through her mind? His eyes gazing upon hers, his hands holding hers.

“Do you really want me to stay?” He asked.

She took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“Then—“

“No, I do. I do know, and I do want you to stay,” she admitted. “If I spend more time with you it’ll give me time to figure out what the hell is going on with my heart.”

“Wouldn’t it complicate things?” He said.

“Having sex would,” she pointed out.

He chuckled. “So sex was still on the table?”

“Not on the table, on my bed,” she joked. “No, I—I meant—“

He laughed as he blushed. “What did you mean?”

“I’m not having sex with you,” she stated.

Tom grimaced. “I—“

“I meant,” she sighed. “If you stayed and if it happened—which it won’t, it would be complicated, but it wouldn’t if you don’t. And if you… didn’t stay it would complicate things because now it’s in the—“

“You’re making no sense,” Tom pointed out.

“Having sex would complicate things,” she said. “But I’m not asking you to… I’m asking you to stay.” She sighed. “I’m—I just don’t want you to leave.”

He let go off her hand. “Wouldn’t your roommates mind?”

And maybe that’s when y/n’s question was answered. This wasn’t about him not wanting to stay, it was about Tom not wanting to deal with Tim. Did Tom know about it? Had Harry told him?

Probably not. Tom would’ve lost it.

“One is partying with your brother and the other one is in San Francisco,” she answered.

“Hm.”

It almost never rains in Los Angeles. When it does, it’s scarce. Yet, the universe was playing on them, laughing right in their faces. Y/N thought she had imagined it, but Tom had looked out too. It was raining in L.A.

“Is it fucking raining?” Tom said, half amused.

She gulped. “Yeah,” she chuckled. It was ironic, funny.

“We weren’t even being that dramatic but the rain said why the fuck not, huh?” He laughed.

She chuckled. “You were being dramatic.”

“But I always am,” he sighed. “And you…” He sighed. “You started it.”

“That was stupid,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“I will see you tomorrow.” She finally walked out of the car and headed to her apartment, running under the rain.

Tom, frustrated, ran a hand through his head. He gave himself a minute to think about it before running after her. He caught her mid the stairs, taking her hand again to stop her, under the rain he was unsure of the words he could say.

“Y/N,” that’s the only thing that could come out.

“ I thought we had agreed it was stupid,” she snapped. Thankful the rain had covered the teardrops that had started to come out. Because she was angry. And sad, but her stupid heart wanted to kiss him. Her stupid heart was louder.

“No. But y/n we both know that it will end up happening if I walk through that door,” he said. The raindrops falling down his face.

She looked up at him. “You didn’t even hear what I wanted to offer.”

He approached her. He didn’t understand why he was so flustered and confused.

It was stupid, He only placed took her hands in his, she had softened at his touch.

“Y/N, but-”

She looked down at his hands again. “Maybe I’m just asking you to stay to hold hands all night.”

“I think we need to talk,” he declared again.

She nodded. “I know.”

“I really don’t want to fuck it up with you this time,” he admitted. “And look, maybe… you said it. We—We can’t really forget the past—but.”

“Forgetting the past is a terrible idea,” she interrupted.

“But I also—just want to say fuck everything and kiss you,” he admitted a she cupped her face.

He was hesitating. Y/N was, too. It was a very complicated feeling. To be angry at the love of her life but knowing that she’d probably run out of chances to love him if he didn’t stay. Standing there, shaking, with his hands on her cheeks, cold rain falling both their cheeks.. Why did this have to be so dramatic?

Though it really wasn’t, it was barely raining, just a few drops.

She laughed. Because it was so stupid. And ironic. And there’s a fine line, very thin line... Between doing something that you might regret in the morning and not doing it and regretting it all your life. Whatever she did, though, she would end up regretting. Whether he stayed or not.

Until you get to the top you’ll know if it was worth it. Until you live it you’ll know if it was actually love, or if you wasted your time. She didn’t have any more time to waste. She knew he probably…

But what if he had feelings for Cherry? What if he was dating her cousin? And that’s why he couldn’t stay. Or… Her thoughts were trying to make sense. Maybe they were gripping to something they could’ve had.

“Well, why don’t you?” She asked him.

“What?”

“Why don’t you kiss me?”

Because the rain was no coincidence. And he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t laugh. She kissed him.

She finally kissed him under the rain. Under the stupid cold rain, that was usually scarce. And it was bitter, but calm, contrasting warm lips to the cold rain that was streaming down their cheekbones. He was a song, a movie, a book. The story y/n wanted to keep forever, because she was an idiot.

He still owned every single thought she could ever have. The kiss wasn’t deep and dramatic, not movie scene like, not like y/n had probably imagined it. It was sweet, tender, and she didn’t let him pull away. If anyone saw them, they’d probably think they looked pathetic. Only one kiss and she was fooled again. Why did love have to be so cruel? Why did it have to hurt?

But it didn’t, not at that moment. Small kisses, both of them reading their very next movement. She’d forgotten how it felt, those butterflies each time he ever was around. So very esplendid.

You’d think she wouldn’t feel that way, how many times had they not kissed before. Yet it felt like a new one. But she felt lonely, each time her lips touched his. Not because he made her feel lonely, but because she hadn’t really truly realized how much she had missed his touch. She was helpless. Because suddenly she realized all the tears that she hadn’t wept had been dying to come out. How restless she had been, and terrified that she would never ever kiss him again. And she knew she was angry. Tired of being in the dark. Always waiting for him. Because her whole life had changed completely in just a few months, of course she’d missed him. Because the days with him, although they were counted they’d been so bright. And the sun had barely come out when they were apart.

And she knew that if he stayed she’d regret it, but if he didn’t, she’d be torn apart. She needed him that night to fall in love once again, all over. She didn’t care.

She missed him too much to care about anything. But he wanted to leave, he didn’t want to stay, and maybe that’s why she didn’t stop kissing him. She really needed him.

And he finally pulled away to catch his breath. She didn’t say anything, she only made her way to the apartment, leaving it to him. To stay or not to stay.

He did follow after her, but he didn’t walk in.

Why was this so... complicated?

Because if he stayed, it’d be hard. And if he didn’t, they would lose it all. She only watched him, he was debating it. Probably with that same thought in his head. Because she knew it, they were broken. Different reasons this time, maybe Tom hadn’t completely healed from the heartbreak… Or maybe he had pretended to move on. Or… She didn’t know where he was standing. What the hell was going through his mind?

“Fuck it,” he decalred walking in, draggin her close to him and kissing her again. This time the kiss was even deeper, now he was the one in control of it, one hand on the back of her neck and the other one on her waist. Her arms quickly wrapped around his neck and pushed the door close.

It was a bad idea.

But, honestly, when had they ever made any right decision when it came to each other?

She pushed him against the door, her hands skimming down his chest. She needed him that night, she knew that. In any way, possible. Not in the sense that she needed pleasure, or to run out of breath, but she needed to feel once again his skin against hers, with that feeling of never wanting to let go off his lips, needing to prove to herself that Tom still loved her. No one would ever make her feel the way he made her feel.

Though she knew she’d fall apart the moment she realized her mistake, but she pushed away that thought. Her hand went through his slightly wet hair, as he slightly moaned against her lips. His hands were around her waist trying to pull her even closer to his body.

She didn’t know if she should continue, because she knew that there possibly were too many other options of what they could be doing that she wouldn’t regret. She knew that she wanted to make a scene about Cherry, about her, about Tim, or apologize for what she’d done. But then she knew that if she didn’t continue kissing him, she’d probably regret it more. She needed him that night, because she knew she’d end up in a dark place anyway, at least she could feel sparks that night.

Her hands found the hem of his shirt and quickly ripped it off, throwing it away, her lips trailed their way down his neck, leaving wet spots all over it. She could feel his chest going up and down, as she took his hands in hers and pushed them against the wall.

“Y/N,” he breathed in as he tried to move. Y/N knew he was way stronger than her, yet he was letting her take the lead. Though she was taking control, her movements were soft.

She stopped pushing him against the wall, and dragged him to the couch, pushing him down. He was slightly impressed at first but he pulled her down with him, as she sat on his lap, lips glued to his. His fingertips ran down her sides, and then up under her green dress, his cold fingers blissed through her skin . The curtains, though closed, still let the moonlight peak in through the dark apartment.

She pulled away from his lips, opening her eyes to see him. He looked right into her , her cheeks flushed, as she leaned to rest her forehead against his, her chest was shrinking. Y/N knew she wsa being pathetic, idiotic, and probably even neurotic, but she couldn’t help the smile that formed in her face as his lips tried to reach out for hers again. She closed her eyes again as she peppered his face with soft small kisses, feeling like an actual dream, not the nightmare they probably were going through.

He sucked gently right under her chin, as y/n closed her eyes with pleasure, “Tom,” was the only word she wanted to say.

His name over, and over circling in her mind. She shifted and then pushed him to gently lay him down, he brushed his knuckles against her jawline before skimming his own lips through the same path.

“Y/N,” he whispered against her ear as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself, sending vibrations through her whole body. His hands gripping her thighs and going up her ass, as he tried to push her to him. She caged his hips in between her knees, before he sat back up to pull her down to him. Her lips found his collarbone, as she sucked on lightly and her hands traced down his chest down to his abs, thumbs rubbing circles.

His hands under her dress fiddled with her underwear and then caressed her legs, slowly and gently, as it built their way up to her core, she only fanned her breath against his neck. He only toyed with the hem of her silky panties.

Instead, he pulled his hands back and looked for the zipper in her dress.

Her own hands were toying with the muscles connecting his stomach with his legs. It travelled far enough to finally unbutton him, he helped her to strip himself down.

“I think this isn’t fair, I’m almost naked,” he commented before y/n shut him up with a kiss. But his hands kept working on her zipper and he finally slid it down.

“It’s completely fair,” she whispered.

Y/N chuckled as she finally took off her own dress.

He smirked “I thought we were going to hold hands,” he sassed before pressing firm kisses against the newly exposed skin, from both her breasts up to her neck.

Her hips bucked against his body, slowly, feeling his hard length growing against her throbbing core as his fingers were struggling in the back to unbuckle her bra. She drifted her hands once again against his chest before landing her lips back on his neck, placing firm kisses against it. She could smell the faint scent of his cologne, her very favorite one. He whimpered, making y/n feel the vibrations, his hands traveling down her back.

“This really isn’t holding hands,” he pointed out again.

She pulled away and took both his hands, intertwining their fingers and she pushed him against the backrest. He smirked as he only lifted his head to meet her lips, molded into one, as if every time they kissed they turned into two halves longing for the very next one.

“Y/N,” he said in between kisses.

“Tom,” she answered. As his lips traveled down to the middle of her breasts, he stopped holding her hands as he once again tried to get the bra off.

Before he could unhook it, he pulled away. “Wait,”he said.

There it was, y/n thought, he’s gonna be reasonable.

“I—don’t have a condom,” he admitted, a statement which somehow calmed y/n, knowing perfectly that around the time they dated, he’d always have condoms in his wallet.

She didn’t, either. She knew Emma probably had, though, since Emma had slipped one into her purse the night with Tim. One, that of course, she’d used.

We don’t want another pregnancy scare,” Tom joked.

“We—?” She chuckled. “You didn’t have it.”

“I certainly did,” Tom frowned. “When I opened that box, and it was there—I thought—“

“Oh, right, I—“she laughed nervously. “I gave it to you.”

He gulped. “Yeah, you gave me everything.”

They stayed quiet, for a bit. His hands on her waist, her fingers running through his hair. .

“Emma probably has some—“she said. “But—“

He took a deep breath. “Oh—then?” He coughed with a grin. “Why don’t you go and—?”

She didn’t move initially, she only gazed upon his lips and then back to his eyes, he kissed her before she finally walked away. But then she walked into Emma’s room.

‘If you ever decide to finally have one random hookup I’ll put them here.’ The words echoed through her mind as she opened the small box on top of her nightstand. She saw the flowers that Harry had given her. Y/N felt wrong and she wasn’t sure why.

She opened the small box anyway, now the excitement gone, completely.

Y/n fidgeted with the condom and then just watched

He sighed. Both of them knew the fire was probably put out, now.

She took a deep breath as she sat on the other side of the couch. He cleared his throat.

They weren’t ready. Because it hurt too much, and though her body probably desired him now, her heart had decided to finally get back into its senses, and it was aching. Now the only thoughts circling her mind was that he’d touched her differently, he had barely wanted to. He had been slow, and not like they were before, always too desperate to touch each other. He hadn’t smiled as they had pulled away from the first kiss like he usually did, and he hadn’t tried to kiss his way down to her stomach.

He hadn’t… he hadn’t.

Or had he? And was it all in her mind? Her fear that instead of her name he’d end up saying Cherry’s.

He didn’t say anything, he rubbed his face.

She only reached for her dress and lazily covered herself with it, not bothering to put it on, before walking away to her room.

He picked up his clothes and quickly followed after her. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he said, staying in the doorway.

She blinked as she had put on her dress back on, not wanting to turn around and see him. “What for?”

He sighed heavily. “I—I don’t know.”

She wanted to ask about Cherry.

She didn’t, though.

“We’re not ready.” That’s what she went with as she sat on her bed.

He gulped as he walked a step into her room. “Yeah.”

Her heart was killing her. “I—I’m… I never got to say how sorry I was,” she started. “I never wanted to hurt you,” she said.

Tom gulped, watching her.

“I can’t believe I—I hurt you that much and I can’t even think how I managed to make you believe that you were anything but the love of my life,” the words had come out so simply.

Tom stayed in the doorway, fidgeting with his shirt. She finally looked at him. He was nervous, she could tell. Or not nervous, but that unnamed horrible feeling when you feel anxious that you won’t be able to forgive. That’s the feeling he was showing.

“I—I’m sorry I wrote it,” she continued, her voice cracked. Why did it hurt so much to say it if she actually wanted to say it? “But if it changes anything, it was never a hoax,” she confessed. “I guess it was an excuse to me, to let myself feel something for you. And I—should’ve said something sooner or… I was just so afraid of losing you, and I ended up losing you anyway. I walked in with the idea that you’d hurt me first that I built up so many weapons and—We shouldn’t have. It was not war, we were in love, no one—Love is not war, but love isn’t supposed to hurt and yet…” she gulped. “I don’t know if we can get out of this one.”

He sat beside her. “History says we can,” he observed.

“History also tends to repeat itself,” she pointed out.

He nodded. “Yeah, if you don’t know it.”

“I’m sorry,” she pleaded again. “I really—never got to say it,” she continued. “I’m—“

“And I’m sorry, too,” he echoed, before placing a kiss on her temple.

She scoffed. “We’re a mess.”

He pressed his lips against her cheek, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, she leaned against him.

“How have you really been?” He asked.

She shrugged. “It was weird, at first. I’ve been missing everyone,” she admitted. “I missed Harry and Sam, James,” she nodded. “I’ve been missing you like hell which I couldn’t really explain.”

“Why?”

“We were used to being apart,” she pointed out. “I never really cared before if you went places, and if you did I would be angry, and now… I searched for your face in every corner, in every person.”

He smiled slightly. “I… tried to find you, too. I missed you too fucking much.”

Y/N didn’t really want to think more of that thought, but of course she knew he’d searched for her. She was upset again, yet that didn’t impede her lips from finding their way back to his neck, sloppy kissing against his exposed hot skin. He shivered, as he pulled her back to him.

Just like they were continuing what they’d left before. He laid down pulling her with him, his hands trailing up her legs as she continued to suck gently on his neck, kissing down his chest now.

“Fuck, y/n,” he muttered as he felt her lips kissing down his abdomen. His chest rising up, his hand was so close to her heat but he snapped it away, to grip her legs and turn them around, him on top of her now as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He kissed her as he tried to push his own body against her. Tongue slipping into her throat as her hands found his hair.

She rocked herself against him, as he groaned against her lips.

But she pulled away again. “No, wait, Tom,” she stopped him. “No, no… We can’t do this,” she stopped him.

“Fuck y/n, you can’t leave me like this,” he complained, burying his face on her neck, y/n wasn’t sure if she felt small pecks on it.

She bit her lip. “If we do this, it’ll be our doom.”

“I.. Fuck I know, but you can’t kiss me like that and then--” He couldn’t even finish. He was turning red and flustered as he tried to hide his hard-on with y/n’s pillow just as he sat up.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, as she reached for his hand.

He chuckled, “No, no, I get it,” he was embarrassed as he flicked her hand away. “I-” he cleared his throat. “I need to cool down.”

She blushed. “Yeah, me too.”

He covered his face. “This is really embarrassing.”

She gulped. “Do you…” She couldn’t even say it. “Do you want to take a shower?”

He laughed nervously. “What?”

“I don’t know,” she grinned. “Take a cold shower, maybe?”

“Are you serious?” His face couldn’t even possibly get redder, yet he was there. He picked up another pillow and covered his face.

“I… thought that helped,” she giggled.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious,” she snickered.

“I-- yeah,” His voice was muffled under the pillow. “I might take your offer.”

She hated herself because she really had wanted to continue it, and this was the second time. But it was like both of them knew that this mess would be even more of a mess if they went through with it. So they had to keep separate ways, hot and bothered. She knew it, she really wanted to go through with it, but she had to stop herself.

But she handed him a towel and showed him the way. He was still flushed, and they both avoided their glance when she walked out.

Y/N was trying to find a way to cool herself down, too. But her skin was still burning, trying to find its way back to him.

The bathroom was the door in front of her room, she had always hated that, but today she didn’t. She heard the water streaming down. Her chest was still going up and down as she stared at the wooden door, at her pillow, at his shirt on the floor.

Her mind was replaying the way he had said her name, over and over again. She wanted to hear him all night. If he said her name like that again she knew she’d give everything he asked for.

He hadn’t closed the door, not correctly, at least, a door that barely ever locked, it had its way, and so the door cracked open revealing him, under the steam and hot water. Not cold as she had aviced him, too. She was nervous, never done something like that before, she felt weird peaking in, but her titled head had tried to get a sneak. It was past midnight now, probably, and she didn’t want to waste any more time, and she knew she was risking being rejected, again, but a thought came to her head. The light from her bathroom barely showed anything, a fact that she’d always hated. The flickering lightbulb was never good enough for her to get ready in the morning, and that small stupid mirror, she hated it, now tarnished from the hot water. But the flickering light bulb that brightened Tom’s shadow, as the water was falling down seemed to add the perfect touch of sensuality she’d looked up for the whole night.

She thought she was a fool, and that it probably was incorrect.And it really was to be peaking,, then she heard him:

“Y/N,” he had moaned her name after two exhales.

She furrowed her eyebrows, not sure if she’d heard what she’d heard. Was he calling her? She gulped the thought, trying to ignore it. But she could hear her name again.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groaned. The way her name slipped from his mouth made y/n swoon.

Now she was sure she’d heard her name, and if her mind was not betraying her she knew exactly what the hell was going on. She knew it, the heavy breaths disclosed him.

His head thrown back with pleasure.

Y/N blushed as she cleared her throat. But he moaned slightly louder, making her stomach jolt. He whispered her name and her name only, over and over.

And that gave y/n a slight feeling of power. That probably was the last string hitting, and so, decisively, she walked into the bathroom, too. Now, making sure it was locked. Tom didn’t hear her, but she saw the shadow of his arm moving.

She took a deep breath to get more confidence before finally stripping down all of her clothes. Tom was too busy to notice as she stepped into the steamy shower, her toes burning with the water as she stepped right behind him.

She was nervous but that didn’t stop her. She slowly wrapped her arounds behind him, feeling the well defined muscles on his abdomen, he froze and shrivelled at her slight touch.

“Fuck--” He cursed. “Y/N, I’m sorry. You weren’t—“

“Sh,” she kissed his back. “Thought you could use some help.”

Her hands firmly pressed their way down, the hot water in her skin only turning her on even more. He was shaking.

He was breathing even more heavily than before. “Fuck, y/n.”

It was her name, not anyone else’s, it was her name. He threw his head back as she continued kissing his back. Hands traveling up and down, teasing him as she pressed her whole body against him.

“I thought—“he couldn’t even make out his thought.

“I changed my mind,” she whispered, her hand now traveling down his length, the other digging her nails into his chest.

He panted heavy breathes.

“I haven’t even touched you, darling,” she teased.

He whimpered, his legs kept shaking as her delicate fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Y/N—“he moaned brokenly, as his hands tried to reach behind him to touch her.

She was breathing against his back, as she let his length go.

“Fuck it y/n,” he was exasperated.

She chuckled, and then finally wrapped her hand around his shaft, beginning to pump him up and down.

“Fuck,” was all he could say.

“Say my name,” she ordered.

“Y/N,” he complied, as she kept pumping him.

His own hands tried to reach out to her but his hands found his own hair instead, his knuckles getting white from the pleasure, as he said her name over and over.

She gained confidence and quickened her pace, stroking him flawlessly as his groans became louder. He growled.

“Fuck, no, Y/N, I’m close—Stop“he said, and stopped her hand, she slowly withdrew it. “I need to be in you, fuck this,” he barked before turning around and smashing his lips against hers and pushing her against the wall. He quickly grabbed her leg and pulled it up, as he kissed his way down the valley of her breasts, his hands were dying to touch her as they explored every spot that he could reach, kissing her fervently.

The water was still running down both their skin now mixed with sweat, as his slick fingers travelled down to her core, as if to return the favor, y/n had to bite her lip as a wave of arousal hit her. His thumb pressing hard against her clit as he slid one finger in, making her whimper and moan his name out loud.

“Tom,” she breathed out, as his thumb rubbed circles sending a heat of pleasure, her fingers digging down to his back, crescent moons forming in his skin.

“Fuck, get inside me, Tom.”

He didn’t, he only brushed his length against her pulsing core.

“Hold my hands,” he ordered as he ripped her hands from his back and pushed them both against the wall, she locked her fingers with his, as she stared right into her eyes.

He finally pushed right into her, getting a coarse and raspy moan from her. He adjusted himself as she clenched against him. She pressed against his hips, he bit her bottom lip before pushing himself against her, roughly, the water letting him slide just smoothly.

But then he quickened to move with such speed that y/n thought she was losing her sight, clapping noises as he pulled in and out. She rolled her eyes and let out a soft moan with ecstasy. Both of them overwhelmed, as they keep crashing against each other. Y/N rocking her hips as she could while Tom thrusted into her, harder and deeper each time.

He kept moaning her name in between short breaths, and their hands kept held. Her legs were quivering but she managed to kept her other leg wrapped around his back, each and every movement getting sloppier as he thrusted into her.

The water was still burning against their skin, but it was getting colder, they didn’t notice since their skin was now covered with sweat that only helped you both move more.

He stopped moving, staying inside of her, deeply inside as he pushed his head back with pleasure. “Fuck, y/n, you’re so tight,” he said, as he was catching his breath, but then he continued to ram into her. Over and over, his movements brushing against her clit, already aroused as she was sure she was seeing stars.

He continued, as she was squeezing his hands so tight. Her back sliding up and down to the wall. His lips found trying to find her breasts, and her neck and collarbones, sucking and biting and licking. He managed to kiss some spots every now and then in between whimpers and short breaths, and slow whispers of her name.

“Tommy,” she whimpered, as she felt her orgasm beginning to wash her up. Ecstasy and pleasure filling her arousal, as the friction from each and every momevent rubbed against her pulsing core. Tom groaned when he heard her scream his name, his own movements were getting sloppier, he groaned as he reached his own climax, he tried to pull out but she didn’t let him. She growled as her knuckles were turning white from holding his hands as he filled her up. Trying to get some composure as he breathed against her, resting his forehead against her, both of them panting trying to catch their breath.

“You cooled down now?” She asked between respires.

He chuckled as he let her hands go to lift her chin so he could kiss her, sweetly this time.

They were laying down on y/n’s bed, drops still falling down their bodies, y/n laying down on top of him. Her head under his neck as his finger traced down her exposed spine. Her own fingers walking up his chest.

“So that was a new way of holding hands,” he pointed out, she chuckled against his neck before pecking it.

She reached out for his hand again, as she played with his fingers.

“Do you think we fucked up?” Y/N asked

“No,” he answered as he pulled her closer, placing a kiss on top of her head.

“Emma‘s gonna kill me,” she said.

“Harry, Sam, Haz and Tuwaine will kill me,” he laughed. “But I won’t tell them.”

She gulped. “We’re keeping it a secret again?”

He cleared his throat and licked his lips. “No—no, no, we are not making the same mistakes—But,” he cleared his throat. “I’m not one to kiss and tell, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, right—plus, this doesn’t have to mean anything,” she said.

He frowned. “Uh—“

“No, wait not—“she coughed. “Not what I meant—I—meant that we don’t have to—rush anything.”

He gulped, “it’s complicated.”

“But it would’ve been, anyway,” she commented.

He nodded. “See? That’s why I suggested going over the timeline.”

Y/N smiled. “So we don’t go over the same mistakes?”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “So I don’t end up breaking your heart again for what, the hundredth time?”

“Try thousandth,” she joked. But she wasn’t really joking, she only thought about the last time, just a few moments before.

He gulped, hands still fidgeting. “You actually—you broke my heart several times too,” he whispered.

“Really?” She looked up to him.

“Yes,”he chuckled. “Like that time you said I was the ugliest guy at school.”

She sat up just slightly just to shift to rest her chin on his chest so they’d be facing each other. “When did I say that?”

“With your friends, with Fabiola,” he said, pushing her head back from her face. “you were playing snog marry kill and you said you’d kill me because I was the ugliest guy at school.”

She snickered. “I had to keep our enemies reputation.”

“And I wasn’t even an option,” he added.

She laughed, embarrassed. “I’m sorry! I don’t remember saying that but you know I didn’t mean it,” she explained. “I had a crush on you,” she said before kissing him.

The lights were dimmed, the sheets covering them both. Though y/n was still trying to figure out her thoughts. Was she angry now?

She couldn’t be, not after their shower. Maybe she was just blinded, but that’s the thing about a love affair with the love of your life, you can’t help it. He took her breath away in every possible way. She’d forgotten about many things. Not all of them, and of course they still had too many things to talk about, and they probably couldn’t wait. But there were no poisonous thoughts in her mind. Yes, it still hurt and she was angry but her heart loved him too much to care… at least for now. Besides, she didn’t know if they were actually going anywhere with this.

Honestly, she probably wasn’t even thinking with her heart or mind at that moment. His touch had blinded her, feeling brand new, each time he brushed his fingers against her, she felt a bristled spark forming up.

“It hurt my feelings I didn’t know,” he grinned.

“I’m sorry,” she ran a hand through his hair. “I actually thought you were the cutest one…”

He grinned. “really?”

“Well second cutest one, Nicholas Johnson might have been the cutest one,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes and faked a laugh. “I knew you had a crush on him.”

“I did,” she admitted.

“Which brings me to another heartbreak,” he commented.

She frowned. “What?”

“When you kissed him,” he pointed out.

“Which time?”

He frowned. “Wait, there was more than one?” He faked to be hurt, she laughed.

“Yes,” she scoffed. “And please, I had to see each and every one of your girlfriends, and you barely saw mine.”

He gulped. “Yeah, okay but, I mean… The first time, yes I remember it was at some random tween party we had, in the treehouse… we were playing spin the bottle,” he recalled.

“Oh, I remember that,” she nodded.

“And you were dared to kiss your crush,” He commented. “And from what I had gathered before I thought I was your crush.”

“Wait I remember that!” She said.

“You do?”

“Yes I got angry! Because—wait!” She giggled. “You thought I would’ve kissed you when like two questions before that you said that I was the ugliest in the room.”

“It was payback,” he said.

“No it wasn’t, how would it be payback if I hadn’t even kissed Nick,” she pointed out.

“I… I was trying to...Don’t change the subject, you kissed Nick and I was so angry,” he cleared his throat.

She sat up, laughing, covering herself with her sheets. Tom chuckled to himself, amused by the fact she was covering just right after they had recklessly fucked in the shower.

“What the hell were you thinking?” She shook her head amused. “That I would run to you and kiss you after you called me ugly?”

“I was flirting with you y/n,” He smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “You were—”

He pulled her right back to him, missing her touch already. “Look I was dumb but then when they asked if you’d ever been kissed before that you said no!” He called her out. “And as long as I’m concerned you had kissed someone.”

“We had agreed on not telling anyone,” she claimed.

He shrugged. “Yes, but you hurt my pride.”

She nudged him playfully, tired of him. “You’re an idiot.”

He was going to say something, but he cupped her face to bring her down to kiss her again, his hands travelled down her back again.

“Tom!” She chirped as he turned her around.

“And then when you started dating Louis god, I hated him so much,” he rolled his eyes.

“But you hate every guy I dated,” she pointed out.

He laughed. “Only because you chose horrible people.”

She snickered. “Hm.”

“I hate Tim the most though,” he pointed out.

Her stomach jolted and she avoided his glance. Tim. Fuck, Tim. Just a few days before she had been in between those very same sheets with him. So different from what had gone around this time.

“You hated me the most,” she said. “And how did that turn out?”

“Huh?”

“I was your biggest enemy, now Tim’s your biggest enemy, why don’t you try it out with him? Maybe you guys end up being the perfect couple,” she sassed with a smirk.

He scowled, getting off of her, turning around avoiding to face her. “No.”

“Just saying,” she laughed, as she wrapped her arm around him, kissing his shoulder.

“Idiot,” he rolled his eyes.

He coughed. “Anyway, Louis.”

“He was an idiot,” y/n agreed.

“Yes, what’s up with you dating idiots?” He turned back to face her.

“Dunno, really loved the last one though,” she smiled before leaning over to kiss him.

He hummed against her lips but then pulled away. “But no, look, I hate Tim but the worst guy you ever dated was Louis.”

“He was not that—bad at the beginning,” she chuckled. “He was in a band and he was hot.”

“I hated him.”

She shrugged. “I actually started dating him to make you jealous because that’s when Sandra appeared.”

He thought about it. “And you told Sandra I used snail slime to comb my hair.”

She threw her head back laughing. “Yes I did.”

“Why?”

“To make you angry, we were sworn enemies back then remember?” She poked his chest.

“But Louis. Don’t change the subject.”

“What about him?”

“He was…” She thought about it. She’d never told anyone what had gone wrong with him. The real reason why they’d broken up and he had shown his true cards and how awful he was of a human being. “He was a bad guy and I was into that, plus I think he was somehow related to someone in the Harry Potter cast and that’s all I needed.”

“A bad guy,” he frowned.

“Yes, a bad guy,” she bit her lip. “I was into that,” she coughed. “I mean he basically dressed as John Bender from the Breakfast Club and-”

“Of fucking course,” Tom laughed. “Of course, now it all makes sense.”

“He was actually the one to introduce me to that world,” she laughed. “Okay, he was hot and I liked the way he dressed and he was manly.”

Tom scrunched his nose.

“And it made you jealous so my plan worked,” she pointed up.

“You never told me why you broke up,” he said. “I mean, I’m glad he did because I could take you to prom but why--”

She gulped. “He was an idiot.”

She tried to change the subject, and they went through different aspects of their relationship. Always the same damn story, Tom hurting y/n, Y/N hurting Tom. Both of them being idiots, very big idiots.

People come into our lives to teach us something, yet they didn’t quite know what they were supposed to learn from each other. Maybe there wasn’t much of a lesson to be learned, but they both knew that somehow it led them both there. It had to, otherwise why else would they be under the sheets as the moon sneaked into her room, with dried flowers hanging in her wall. Why else would they be tangled up with each other if they weren’t meant to be?

Y/N, no matter how angry she was, knew she had the deepest connection with him. No matter how stupid, she knew it. And though she knew they’d end up tearing each other apart one of those days because y/n wouldn’t resist calling him out for Cherry, that night she didn’t want to go through another fight. Not that night.

“You didn’t go to the Spiderman premier,” Tom said.

She bit her lip, avoiding his glance. She’d never told him why.

“I know I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“That broke my heart so much,” he gulped.

“But you were dating—”

“Yes, but it still meant so much to me you know?” He sighed. “And though I hated you or pretended to I wanted to share it with you-”

“You don’t know how much I regretted not going,” she admitted.

Tom brushed her hair with his fingers. “Why didn’t you—?”

“Because I thought that if before I didn’t have any chance with you, I’d have less of a chance then, and because I... I don’t know.”

“What?”

“It was weird, it was around a time when I still couldn’t get over that kiss after prom, I was thinking about it, day and night and then you started dating her and—I just..”

He stayed quiet.

“Dunno, I knew the whole world would finally see you and I… don’t know, I was planning to let you go and I was angry and I just couldn’t see you, and I just thought I would drag the happiness away from you? In a way,” she confessed. “Because I had been too blinded, I knew I was in love with you again, and I knew that I would… I would simply ruin the magic for you, and I was confused and I saw you and you were happy and I thought I’d end up ruining it for you, because I knew that we’d never be happy, not when we were around each other, and I had accepted it back then, for the first time, that I wouldn’t...be with you. I had accepted that it was a fantasy, and that we wouldn’t-” She coughed. “And I remember,” she chuckled dryly. “You know me, I was dramatic and I’d go out for long walks, staring into the rain, and… I was getting over you,” she nodded. “Or I thought I had gotten over you,” she sighed. “Because then…”

“Rome,” he let out a long sigh.

“Yeah.”

“We’ve never really talked about this huh,” he bit his lip.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Not even when we were dating huh—” He was out of breath. “No, we were too busy making out, huh.”

She grinned sadly.. “That was on you.”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t and I was not complaining,” he smirked, caressing her cheek.

Y/N hated herself because she had no willpower when it came to him. If she’d told this to the y/n from a few hours before she would’ve probably killed y/n. Because god, she shouldn’t be there with him. Had she forgotten all her days mourning over him? Had she thrown them all away? She was an idiot.

There was that thought in her mind, it would’ve been better if they’d never ever tried anything together. No first kiss, no first dance, no first flowers. But then if they’d never ever tried anything, she wouldn’t have known that he was the missing part of her. And she knew that fear and hate were strong, so, so, so strong but her beating heart was stronger and louder.

“How have we been so stupid?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“Like no offence but we literally are the most stupid couple ever,” he stated.

She snickered. “We are.”

“Like how many times did we not try to screw each other’s life because we were in love?” He wondered.

“We were young and stupid,” she nodded.

“But listening to it, the same story, it’s the same thing, over and over, and over,” he shook his head. “I don’t want it to be the same ending.”

He kissed her, deeply. Threading his light touch around her body, taking it easy this time. Gentle touch, and now slowly, he took his time now to look at her, as if it was the first time he’d seen her. He leaned over and over again to kiss her, lips, heart, and soul. Maybe that’s why y/n was always drawn to him, because he knew how to touch her soul. Anybody could touch her body, but barely anyone knew how to touch her heart, and nobody knew how to touch her soul. So kindly, and softly. Shimmering eyes that made her whole body butterfly.

And all they wanted to ask each other that night was not to let each other down. Funny thing, neither of them had said what they felt, out of fear, or maybe confusion. But they both knew it, they both felt it.

They drifted off together, holding each other. Y/N slept for the first time in months, so calmly, listening to the soft heartbeat in her chest.

Y/N was the first one to wake in the morning after she had heard some noise, she placed a soft kiss on his shoulder before putting on some underwear and his t-shirt. She’d always liked wearing her clothes.

When she walked out, she saw Emma near the door.

“Emma!” She gulped. She’d completely forgotten she had a roommate, now y/n was slightly embarrassed, not knowing what her friend had been able to hear from the night before, knowing damn well she hadn’t been quiet.

“Shh,” she closed her eyes. “Shh--- shh, I have a terrible headache,” she said before leaving her purse on the couch.

That’s when y/n realized it. “Wait--Did you just arrive?”

“Yes,” Emma scrunched her face. “Shit,” she opened her eyes and glanced at y/n. “Oh god, what are you wearing?”

Y/N took a step back and cleared her throat. “I… uh.”

“Did you sleep with him?” Emma asked.

“Sorta,” she lied.

Emma brought her hands to her surprised face. “Oh my God.”

“But wait, where were you?” Y/N tried to change the subject.

“Is he still here?” Emma asked as she walked near y/n’s room to get a peak, and there she saw the man laying down on y/n’s room.

Y/N rushed to close the door. “I know, I know…” Y/N bit her lip. “But… But wait, where were you? Were you partying? Or--” Y/N took a second glance at Emma’s outfit and realized the jacket she was wearing was definitely not hers.

It was Emma’s turn to blush. “It’s… It’s a funny story.”

“Emma?” Y/N’s eyes couldn’t believe it.

“Look, we were both stupid last night, okay?” Emma walked away, making her way to her room.

“Is that--That’s not your jacket,” Y/N pointed out.

“I know, I slept with Josh,” Emma admitted.

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certifiedmarkleetrash · 4 years

Text

songs that make me feel like a main character (includes kpop)

*I made this playlist on spotify, I know I could link it, but I know some of these songs do not tickle everyone’s fancy. ALSO, I listen to a wide range of music (kpop, pop, rock, etc., so its kind of everywhere*

*added the Spotify link*

Please feel free to suggest songs that make you feel like a main character, I would love to listen to them!

I may or may not get some of these songs off of tik tok and if you work at Aeropostale, you might recognize a lot of these songs

I will add new songs too!

Girls in Bikinis - Poppy

12345SEX- UPSAHL

Zombie (English Ver.) - DAY6

Afraid -DAY6

1 to 10 - DAY6

Love me or Leave me - DAY6

Day and Night - DAY6

Stay Tonight - Chungha

Lies - Will Jay

Cosmic Love - Florence + The Machine

Electric Love - BORNS (yes I know the dude is problematic but this song is a main character bop)

Dark Paradise (Parov Stelar Remix) - Lana Del Rey, Parov Stelar

Wildflower - 5SOS

No Shame - 5SOS

Role Model - Phoenix

On My Own - 3LAU, Nevve

In Degrees - Foals

No Going Back - Yuno

Fading Youth - Punctual

Maybe You’re the Reason - The Japanese House

The Hype - LEISURE

All For Us - Labrinth, Zendaya

Sundress - A$AP Rocky

Dang! - Mac Miller, Anderson .Paak

Ladders - Mac Miller

Best Friend - Sofi Tukker, NERVO, The Knocks, et al.

Swan Song - Dua Lipa

Rocket Girl - Lemaitre, Betty Who

Graffiti - CHVRCHES

I Think I’m OKAY - Machine Gun Kelly, YUNGBLUD, Travis Barker

So What - LOONA

Blinding Lights - The Weeknd

Sexy, Free & Single - Super Junior

The Chaser - INFINITE

Treat People With Kindness - Harry Styles

That’s The Way It Is - Daniel Lanois

She - Harry Styles

To Be So Lonely - Harry Styles

Falling - Harry Styles

Psycho - Red Velvet

Adore You - Harry Styles

Watermelon Sugar - Harry Styles

Golden - Harry Styles

But, Honestly - Foo Fighters

Spark - Taeyeon

365247 - DAY6

Deep In Love - DAY6

It’s Okay To Cry - SOPHIE

Lights Up - Harry Styles

My Body - Young the Giant

False God - Taylor Swift

I Forgot That You Existed - Taylor Swift

Miss Americana & The Heartbreak Prince - Taylor Swift

The Archer - Taylor Swift

WHO DO U LOVE? - Monsta X, French Montana

FACE - Woosung

Best Part - DAY6

Wanna Go Back - DAY6

Time of Our Life - DAY6

Awkward Silence - Stray Kids

Illusion - ATEEZ

CROOKED - GDRAGON

Don’t Need Your Love - NCT Dream, HRVY

ME - CLC

gogobebe - Mamamoo

Bon Bon Chocolat - EVERGLOW

Photograph - Def Leppard

Butterfly - LOONA

WANT - Taemin (bop of 2019, fight me)

We Must Love - ONF (stan ONF you cowards)

Youth of the Nation - P.O.D.

Don’t Blame Me - Taylor Swift

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

Sassy Me - Red Velvet

My My My! - Troye Sivan

Anybody Out There - Young Mister

Bloom - Troye Sivan

Shout - Tears For Fears

We Are The World - U.S.A. For Africa (can we do a reprise of this for the pandemic PLEASE)

Hysteria - Def Leppard

Livin’ On A Prayer - Bon Jovi

Don’t You (Forget About Me) - Simple Minds

Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic - The Police

Everybody Wants To Rule The World - Tears For Fears

Woman - BoA

Replay (PM 01:27) - NCT 127

1, 2. 3! - Seungri (I hate you seungri, rot in prison, I also hate you put a bop this good)

SEE SEA - Hyolyn

NANANA - IMFACT

I’m Not Afraid - Holland (stan Holland YOU COWARDS)

BLUE MOON - Kyeongri

1, 2, 3 - NCT Dream

Beautiful Feeling - DAY6

Naughty Boy - PENTAGON (okay but who else cried rtk ep 3)

Seesaw - Suga of BTS

Euphoria - Jungkook of BTS

HANN (Alone) - (G)-IDLE

Youngblood - 5SOS

Now or Never - SF9 (bop of 2018 I will fight you on this)

Taking Off - ONE OK ROCK

What’s Good - SVT Rap Unit

Take What You Want - ONE OK ROCK, 5SOS

SUNSET - Kim Donghan

Better Better - DAY6

Feeling Good - DAY6

We Are - ONE OK ROCK

Something New - Taeyeon

Forever Young - BLACKPINK

Take Me Higher - A.C.E.

Spotlight - Pristin V

Good Evening - SHINee

Needing/Getting - OK Go

This Too Shall Pass - OK Go

Call Your Name - JBJ

Trigger - VIXX

Shine - Pentagon (okay but also bop of 2018, and ptg should of gotten their first win with this song, ROBBED)

Egoist - Olivia Hye of LOONA, Jinsoul of LOONA

LIKEY - Twice

I Wait - DAY6

I Smile - DAY6

I Loved You - DAY6

INTRO: Neo Got My Back - NCT

BOSS - NCT U

THANKS - Seventeen

Bad Boy - Red Velvet

LOVE SCENARIO - iKON

Take The Dive - Jonghyun

Heroine - Sunmi

Greedy - Ariana Grande

She Is - Jonghyun

Born Hater - Epik High, Beenzino, Verbal Jint, et al.

Run Away With Me - Carly Rae Jepsen

new - Yves of LOONA

I Just - Red Velvet

Crazy Sexy Cool - ASTRO

Callin’ - A.C.E.

ON/OFF - ONF (stan [and I cannot emphasize this enough] ONF you cOwArDs)

I’M THE ONE - MXM

MOVE - Taemin

Sting - Stellar

You & I - One Direction

Ride - Lana Del Rey

Pied Piper - BTS

Like This - Pentagon

Don’t Know You - HEIZE

LOVE ME LOVE ME - WINNER

Story of My Life - One Direction

Act My Age - One Direction

Clouds - One Direction

Night Changes - One Direction

Girl Almighty - One Direction

Don’t Hold Me - DMEANOR, Swings

What U Do? - EXO

You Better Know - Red Velvet

View - SHINee

Singing In The Rain - Jinsoul of LOONA

Long Road to Ruin - Foo Fighters

My Hero - Foo Fighters

Will - Jeong Jinwoon, Tiger JK

Really Really - WINNER

I - Taeyeon, Verbal Jint

Why - Taeyeon

WAKE ME UP - B.A.P.

I Got Love - Taeyeon

Deepened - Brave Girls

Learn to Fly - Foo Fighters

Walk - Foo Fighters

Everlong - Foo Fighters

Into the New World - SNSD

Wheels - Foo Fighters

Come on Get Higher - Matt Nathanson

Wonderwall - Oasis

Alone - Heart

Home Sweet Home - Motley Crue

God is a woman - Ariana Grande

Maker - Big Wild

Me and Michael - MGMT

Are You Bored Yet? - Wallows, Clairo

God’s Menu - Stray Kids

fever dream - mxmtoon

Prom Queen - Beach Bunny

Close - Nick Jonas, Tove Lo

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greenorangevioletgrass · 3 years

Text

The Honey Pot (mob! Harry Holland mini-series) 3/3

"We're not who we used to be / we're just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me / trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat." - Harry Styles, Two Ghosts

Masterlist | Taglist | Ko-fi

Pairing: mob!Harry Holland x OFC

Summary: Harry deals with the messy aftermath of Bel's betrayal. Just as he moves on, the past comes back to haunt him. Maybe for good.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: angst, violence, mention of injuries, sssssizling sexual tension, SMUT! oral sex (m/f), protected sex, tender fluff, did i mention angst?

Notes: wow here we are y'all, the final chapter! or is it...? 😈

Part 1 | Part 2

The questioning goes by in a daze. Harry reckons he didn't say much anyway, which his lawyer seems relieved about. The whole night feels like a fever dream, which is ironic since he doesn't sleep a wink in his holding cell. He just goes through every scenario-- every single moment of weakness he'd inadvertently exposed himself to while he's with Bel. Every stupid time he'd turned a blind eye.

And even so, when Tom bails him out early in the morning and picks him up in his sleek Royce, he still has no answer to the big question,

"How could you let this happen?"

Harry says nothing. There is truthfully no reason that he could muster that would salvage this; he simply made a grave mistake.

"I expected better of you.” Tom admits. “You were always smarter than the rest of us. Quicker, when it comes to these things. I can’t believe--”

“Tom, I don’t need your lecture right now, alright?”

“I’m just saying--”

“Look, there’s nothing else we can do but assess the damage and control it. So please, just let me sleep a couple hours and we’ll see what we can do, yeah?” Harry cuts him off archly, hoping to God he’d at least have a peaceful ride home.

Tom stares at him, in a guarded kind of concern that they’ve always had with each other. Harry’s always been more of an older brother to the boys --Tom has the brilliant ideas, but he’s the one that makes them happen for him- but in this moment, he’s damn well stepping up to his role.

“I heard.” he averts his gaze down, as if giving Harry some semblance of privacy. Of dignity.

As if he had any dignity left after MI6 found him naked and tied up to the bed with nothing but a throw pillow to cover his modesty.

Tom stares out the window, the glass dotted with light rain. “Just say the word. I’ll take care of her.”

“No.” Harry answers, immediate and final. He doesn’t want anything to do with her anymore. Not even to end her. He doesn’t have the strength to. Right now, he just wants to stand in the shower until the water burns his skin and then crawl into bed because he’s so, so tired.

His brother doesn’t press on, thankfully. He just gives him a firm hug, with a firm pat on the back, ‘see you tonight’ murmured tight out of his jaw before he jumps right into the backseat once more.

Harry’s house feels hollow. It shouldn’t be; it looks just as he left it two days ago, although it certainly isn’t.

He tries not to note the absence of the washed denim jacket on his coat hanger. The pair of high heels kicked off haphazardly somewhere on the floor. He convinces himself that he’s not checking, but he is. He goes into his living room to see if her books are still there. If her makeup is still next to his bathroom sink --scattered on the counter and driving him crazy as always. He even looks into the drawer where she keeps her clothes. Another drawer where they keep their dirty toys.

Nothing.

Harry tries to wash away the grime, the shame, the sorrow, and when none of it washes off, takes a couple of sleeping pills. He spreads his arms open, surrendering himself to sleep. To take a break. Just for a moment.

He doesn’t rest for a whole month.

His mind is hard at work and it’s sharper than it’s ever been. Going back and forth between Tom and Harrison and their lawyer and MI6 for a negotiation. Working through the possibility of giving MI6 access to their network, in exchange for some personal and financial immunities. Somehow, quite miraculously, they manage to expand their business once again with the British Intelligence on their side.

His assistant had just dropped off the agreement draft from MI6, and he flips through it absently. The words blur together, and he barely remembers what he’s reading when he finds a piece of paper slipped in between the pages.

She didn’t sign her note-- not that she needed to. He’d recognize her handwriting anywhere. Every stroke of the pen, every loop she makes in her letters.

Harry stares at it for far too long. He has half a mind to tear it apart, or burn it. The galls she had for that scrapped, half-assed apology. For turning up again, even if only in writing. For that optimistic promise in the end which he knows is false. And worst of all, for allowing himself to be hurt again by that sliver of hope.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to throw the note away. No, it still stings too much. He decides to fold it up and tucks it away in the corner of his wallet. Maybe one day, when he’s ready, he wouldn’t have to think twice about tossing it.

It's difficult beyond his comprehension at first. He keeps searching for her face in crowds everywhere she goes. Turns and looks for the sound when he hears a vaguely similar laugh. Or when someone calls out some semblance of her name. Reaches out in the dead of night, desperately hoping she’s on the other side of his bed.

She’s never there, of course. He reckons she’d change her name and be halfway around the world on another top-secret mission, ruining another dumb fucker who fell for her charms like some twisted vigilante.

And after a while, he gets used to it. He scans the crowds to ensure himself that she’s not there --that way he can stop fretting. Throws himself in his work and amps up his security detail so he doesn’t need to eavesdrop on his surroundings. Parties hard like the rest of his brothers and friends. Goes home with pretty girls who throw themselves all over him far too easily (and wants him in charge) and dips first thing in the morning.

It doesn’t feel like himself at first. The first couple of months, he feels like a complete fraud. But do that for two years straight… it dulls out the pain enough for him to live with the ennui.

***

It's Harry's last night in New York, and after two weeks of back-to-back meetings, all he wants is to simply collapse in his bed. Nevermind that the night is young. Nevermind that his socialite friends want him to join them at their gentleman's club.

He walks into his townhouse, his two bodyguards in tow, and finds a fresh flower bouquet on his foyer table. Pretty little irises-- white with purplish tips, arranged intricately with dusky pink foxgloves in a fluted vase. It wasn’t there when he left this morning, he observes, and seeks a card among the shrubs. His confusion only grows when he sees a glimpse of his company logo on it.

His mind goes a million miles in just one second. He would recognize that handwriting anywhere. And if that's not enough, the flowers only pointed out to one person --her hair, her choice of color in her clothes. And with the card she used, not only is she in town, but it is very likely that she's here.

Harry snatches the gun from underneath his blazer and signals his bodyguards to sweep the area discreetly. He dashes towards the second level, while his two men take on the ground floor and the basement each.

The woman in question had seen this coming, of course. She waits patiently in a dark corner of Harry’s garage with a tranquilizer gun in hand, until one of his bodyguards steps right into her clear line of sight. Right next to Harry’s beloved vintage Corvette. With a pull of the trigger, the burly man finds a dart on his neck and falls on the floor.

She carefully moves up to the main floor, but comes across the other bodyguard just as he turns towards her direction. She skips three steps and shoots him in the neck, catching him mid-fall with a muted thud and leaving him on the bottom of the stairs. Out of sight and out of mind. It's a clear-cut kind of work and she takes great pride in her efficiency.

She scans the foyer, checking the powder room on her right, the opulent living area, and the sleek professional kitchen. Nothing. With careful steps, she returns to the main hallway towards the minimalist staircase.

"Harry?" she calls out, walking up one step at a time. "I'm not here to hurt you. I just wanna talk."

Harry's waiting for her at the top of the staircase, and as good it is to see his face again, she can't afford to let her guard down. Not while he's aiming a gun at her head.

"Bel." Harry nods curtly.

"Evening." Bel nods back, and for a moment, they just size each other up.

He has a different air about himself now, she observes. Same hairstyle, same suit cut. He’s all guarded, hardened now. Maybe it’s the time passed --it has been two years, although it certainly feels like longer. Or maybe because the Bel he knew is nothing like the Bel standing in front of him now. A threat. An enemy.

Her lavender blonde waves are gone now, replaced by chocolate brown hair cropped into a pixie cut. Her face is more gaunt, more angular. More tired. The shadows smooth around her eyes like a camouflage, but those dark brown eyes are unmistakably hers.

"I'm gonna put my gun down, and you're gonna do the same, alright?" she instructs carefully.

They don't take their eyes off of each other. They just mirror each other getting on their knees and placing their gun on the floor. But Harry's gaze shifts for a split second, and Bel couldn’t duck quick enough before he takes a swing with his left hook.

As the punch lands right on her jaw, her instincts kick in and she dodges him promptly. Counters his attacks with strategic blows, hitting him on the side of his head. This only sets him off even more, it seems, as he hurls himself right at her.

She's got herself pinned down, her upper body hanging off of the railings. The only thing keeping her in place is her legs around his waist and his hand grasping the lapels of her jacket.

"Why are you here?"

"I told you I'll be seeing you, didn't I?" Bel forces a smile breathlessly, and kicks down the back of his knees, sending him unsteady so she can regain her footing. She backs him up against the wall, holding his arms down. For a second amused by how reminiscent this position is.

Harry, on the other hand, feels differently, judging from how she gets a knee to her gut in response. That’s fair, she thinks, and strikes him in the ribs with her elbow and punching quick blows until he staggers down.

"I came to apologize!" she grunts. It feels counterproductive to do that while also beating the shit out of him, but then again, seeing Harry's reaction, she's running out of options.

What she doesn’t expect is how quick Harry reaches for his gun on the floor and fires at her.

"For the whole three months you were with me? Or just the end, where you handed me over to MI6 all tied up with a bow?"

She rolls down the stairs and hits the corner, the bullets breaking the wooden finish and picture frames over her head. She rolls back down to the foyer, feeling debris sticking and stinging on her skin, and backs up into the kitchen for cover. The island counter seems awfully convenient and secure now.

"I had no choice, you were about to blow up a fucking prison!" she hollers from behind the island.

His bullets run out just as he gets a clear shot, and he dumps the gun angrily.

"So just for being with me, then. That's… great." He spots a knife block within his reach and throws some random blade in her direction. And another.

And another.

Bel charges on with a cast-iron skillet as a shield, knocking his makeshift weapons off of his hand. She hits him right on the nose and knocks him down hard enough to topple to the ground.

With her arms and body weight pinning him down, she says, “Look, you were supposed to be just another job. It’s nothing personal. But then I got carried away and--”

She knows the words: she’s thought about it and said it out loud to herself enough. That's the truth and she's made peace with that, and she wants him to make peace with that, too.

But in that moment of weakness, Harry manages to grab a knife he'd dropped and pointed at her direction. Soon the position is reversed, and Harry's on top of her. Fighting tooth and nail to push the sharp end of the blade into her chest, just underneath her exposed collarbone.

"I… fucking fell for you, okay?”

His grip on the knife loosens and Bel manages to take it and push it away. Suddenly the sound of metal clanging against the stone floor is very loud. Very sharp.

“I’m sorry for screwing you over, kid.”

Harry pauses, damn his Pavlovian response to that damned nickname. He kicks her away, sending her keeling back as her head hits the microwave behind her, beeping as she accidentally hits a few buttons. She ducks as he throws the knife at her, the blade sticking into the display glass.

Bel hears crackles from the appliance and she knows she has to move. She tackles Harry to cover him just as she hears a loud bang behind her, the sound of the microwave door crashing against the island counter right next to her head.

Then the fire alarms go off. As the sprinklers rain down on them, it seems that they sober up a little. The kitchen is absolutely trashed, with bullet holes and burnt surfaces and broken glass everywhere.

Bel gets up and offers a hand. "Come on. Let's get out of here and I'll tell you everything."

Harry takes it, surprising her as much as himself. As much as he tried to kill her earlier, there’s much more that he wants to ask.

Bel leads him out to his backyard and jumps the wooden fence over to his neighbor, exiting through the patio door, and he follows suit. Then, as people start to come out and see what the commotion is about, Bel and Harry simply walk away like they're just passing through.

As soon as they turn a corner, Harry firmly grabs her arm to a stop. “Why now? Why not two years ago when it happened?”

"Because then the mission would be compromised," Bel explains patiently, “You wouldn’t have been able to cut a deal with MI6 and I’d go down for treason. I had to… wait until the coast is clear."

Truth be told, she would still get into a lot of trouble now, if they ever find out. But that's a worry for another time.

Right now, her main worry is to get home in one piece. So she tugs his hand off of her. Swift and distant. Harry walks by her side, every stride brisk and purposeful like a man on a mission. She hates the silence --hates that her heartbeat is too loud in her ears, that she has to consciously regulate her breaths to calm down. Twelve minutes, that’s the time it takes to walk from his place to hers. Twelve minutes. Twelve minutes until they’re safe.

Bel says nothing as she turns into an unassuming brownstone, charming and bay-windowed and maple tree-lined. They walk wordlessly up to the third floor where she unlocks another door marked 7C. She holds the door and closes it behind him. Locks it. Checks out the window to make sure nobody is following them. Routine.

Harry simply stands in the middle of the place as he takes it all in. It’s a little studio apartment, with a little dining area by the bay window, flanked by a kitchenette and a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf on either side. There’s a couch and a fireplace right across him, its mantelpiece adorned with paintings and photograph prints. And on the very back of the apartment, a sprawling king-sized bed, crisp white sheets with pistachio-green wooden planks extending high as a headboard. Two doors on either far corner, which he guesses are the closet and the bathroom. It seems… normal.

Bel doesn't budge as she runs her bruised knuckles under the kitchen sink. Like clockwork, she goes into the fridge for some ice packs, although she grabs an extra this time. He’s still there, quiet and observing, and she's almost amused by it.

“Harry,” she calls him, breaking the silence. “Make yourself at home.”

He snaps out of it and catches the ice pack she throws his way. He presses it on his bloodied nose, relieved that it’s at least not broken.

“There’s beer in the fridge. Gin and vodka on the top cabinet, second from the left,” she mindlessly announces as she goes milling about, from the left-corner door to the other. Kicking off her boots and taking off her black sweater and her hiking pants along the way.

As if they were still together and they’d just come home from a night out.

The door is left wide open, and she tries to convince herself that it’s a sign of trust. That she won’t escape. Not because she’s hoping he would come in. Upon hearing the quiet shuffling and water running and glasses clinking in the kitchen, she would assume he’s taking her up for that drink and steering clear from her.

But she hears light footsteps. Slow, as if hesitant, almost. And then his shadow approaches. Bel has to remind herself to act cool. Don’t wait around. Just go about her business, tending to her wounds as she would.

Harry gets to the doorway, but keeps his eyes averted in her state of undress. His suit jacket is nowhere to be seen; just his dirt and blood-stained white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A rocks glass in one hand and an ice pack in the other.

Bel musters a small half-smile through the mirror reflection. “You look pretty banged up.”

“You should see the other guy.” he snorts, downing his drink.

Their eyes meet for the briefest second and neither of them have any idea what to do with it. So they laugh wryly and break eye contact like a couple of teenagers.

“Sorry about the, uh…” Bel motions at the bruise on his left cheekbone, his split lower lip. His overall mess all thanks to her.

But he brushes it off. “It’s fine. Sorry about yours, too. I think it kinda came from a place of anger, more than anything else."

"You think?" she teases him, a grin easily blooms in again.

He blushes, looking away bashfully, and she finds it all too endearing. Until she sees a particularly ghastly-looking gash on the side of his head.

"Oof, I think I might have split your head open there." She grimaces apologetically.

"What?" he moves closer towards the mirror, and Bel tries not to think about his body being pressed against her back for the briefest second. "Fuck…"

"Allow me." she hops onto the counter and motions him to come closer.

He ends up standing between her legs while she cleans his wound from debris and closes it. Her other hand holds his face steady at his jaw, and she runs soothing little circles as she patches him up. She doesn't even realize she's doing it. It's all just awfully intimate and familiar, and it feels like they’ve done it a million times.

In retrospect, they both must have done this a million times.

Just not with each other.

"Feels strange," he murmurs.

"What, the wound?"

"No, this." he gestures at both of them. Occupational hazard to each their own. "I was always careful not to let you see this side of me."

"So was I."

He doesn't answer, but she can feel his gaze on her. Follows and scrutinizes her every move, probably noting every detail about what looks different and what looks the same about her and she finally caves.

"What is it?" she asks, her voice as soft as her hand motion, swiping out the blood and the dirt from his wound.

"I have so many questions…"

"I got time."

He pauses for a long beat, as if weighing in on which question to ask first.

Finally, he goes with, "Is Bel even your real name?"

She smiles, shaking her head. "Not really. They gave us a name when we got into the field, but it's been my name for… 6 years now? And frankly, I like it better than my real name."

"Yeah? What's your real name?"

Bel winces in distaste. "Margaret."

Harry makes a face.

"Go on, laugh it up,” she concedes, sighing oh so dramatically.

"I'm having a hard time imagining you as a Margaret." He has a glimpse of a playful smile, and Bel definitely feels the butterflies in her stomach.

"Ha. Try imagining me as a Peggy." she rolls her eyes.

They share a little laugh over that. Bel hates the name and every possible version of it. But Harry seems to find Peggy particularly amusing, and she briefly wonders if she'd consider letting him call her that, on random phone calls, good mornings over coffee, kisses goodbye before work...

She doesn't. Those scenarios are not an option.

“Next question, please.” she turns his head to the side as she finishes up a stitch. She’d never been so flustered, so eager for interrogation in her life, although this one is slightly different than what she’s used to.

"How'd you end up working for MI6?"

"They scouted me in drama school.”

"You were an actress?" his eyebrows shoot up in mild surprise.

“What were you expecting?”

He purses his lips. “I don’t know. Maybe you were a prodigy with a... troubled past or a penchant for stealing or something.”

“I wish I was that cool,” she mutters. "But it's not unheard of. Intelligence agencies have been doing that since World War II. And I learned half of the training in school already --creating disguises, adapting different mannerisms…"

"Becoming different people."

"Exactly." she cuts a suture thread as if making a point.

He nods, although the answer poses more questions in his head. “So how different are you from the people you become?”

“That depends,” she replies, “If it’s a one-off meeting or doesn’t require much close contact, I try to stay as far away as possible. Hair, clothes, voice, posture…”

She tells him about some of her disguises. It's like a funny little party trick, where she does a bunch of personas, from a tipsy clubgoer to a lost French tourist who barely speaks English. It feels nice to act just for laughs --and it’s even nicer knowing that it put Harry more at ease.

But as the characters run out and she finishes up the last of the stitches, the laughter dies down and Harry's curious and contemplative look returns to his features.

“What about the more-- you know… intense ones?”

She understands the question. He's trying to gauge how much he knows about her is true. And she doesn't answer right away. Instead, she braces herself as she opens a packet of bandage.

Bel takes a deep breath. “Well, I had to change some little details…”

“Like you being an interior designer?”

She nods with a wistful smile, reminiscent of simpler times, all while placing the bandage over his wound. “But the rest is just me.”

The air shifts, somehow subtle and sudden at the same time. It finally dawns on them how vulnerable this position, this conversation, this whole situation is. They're a breath away, and they've been yearning to touch each other again. And yet, they're so afraid to and they don't even know why.

Her hand smooths over the bandage and moves down to his cheek. “It’s still me, kid.”

"Don't--" he shuts his eye and tightens his jaw, but leans into her touch anyway.

He feels so naked, so exposed despite Bel being the one in her underwear. It reminds him of the night she left him, and he knows he should’ve backed off. Leave. Don’t turn back. At the same time, he finds himself unable to resist reaching out for her bare waist, eager to accept the fact that he'd lost.

Unbeknownst to him, she'd lost out the moment she offered to take him home.

She guides his face towards hers, nudging his nose with hers. But Harry's the one who closes the gap between them. And once their lips touch, it's like all the memories come rushing in and they move with each other as they always have. It's as easy as breathing.

His rough, calloused hands are tender against her soft skin and he pulls her in until their bodies are pressed together. Her legs wrap around his slim waist, wanting nothing but to get lost in his kiss. She can feel his heartbeat drumming from inside his chest, fast but steady, as if telling her, I'm here. I'm real.

And the more they indulge, the more they crave: they need to feel everything. Soon her fingers find their way to his shirt buttons and Bel wants to make him hers again. But once the shirt is discarded, she's faced with the fact that she doesn't have to. She's left enough cuts and bruises all over his body to not let him forget.

"Bel," his voice comes out so gentle, and his hand on the back of her neck even more so. "I'm okay."

She looks up at him and realizes how different everything is now. There's no more games, no more pretense. Just two people who have loved and lost so much.

Harry kisses her again. Harder this time. Like he's got something to prove. Like he's got something to ask.

"Please, I-- I need you," he murmurs as he laves needy kisses down her neck.

Her hand slithers down, rubbing his hardened cock through his pants, but he pushes it away.

"No. I need you." he gets on his knees and looks up at her with pleading eyes, hands toying at her waistband. “Please.”

She sighs, half in daze and half in relief, getting off of the counter to take off her underwear. She throws her sports bra on the floor while Harry slides her panties down her hips. His mouth thirsts for her and he couldn’t resist kissing her from the knee. Up the inner thigh. Along her soft nether lips, where he can finally reunite with the taste of her.

And oh, aren’t they glad to be reunited.

Harry has always been a great lover. He’s incredibly unselfish and eager to please, and he’d spend days between her legs if he had his way. But it’s different this time. His tongue spells out praises on her clit, and as he slides his fingers inside her, he reels her in closer and closer to heaven. She trembles, sways over him as she comes apart, praying to his name on her lips, her fingers buried in his curls. It’s not just sex anymore; it’s worship.

She helps him up and can’t wait to kiss him again, smiling at the mess --her mess down his chin. No matter; it’s a pleasure to clean it herself. He giggles lazily while she laps up her remaining juices off of his skin.

“You’re beautiful,” he grins into her kiss, his other hand smoothing over her new hair. “You look like Audrey Hepburn.”

“Stop it,” she blushes like a shy school girl, although the stroke over the bulge in his trousers is slow and scintillating.

Just as he leans in to her touch, she turns around, grabs a condom in her sink drawer. Watches in quiet intrigue as Harry gets out of his remaining clothes through the mirror.

She holds up the foil packet in his hand, and he immediately takes it. Ripping it with his teeth and rolling it over his cock, which she can't help but look back for. God, she nearly forgot how pretty he is --all naked and needy for her. She almost wants to turn around and fuck him like that.

But no. She wants to see him --see them as they are. So she faces the mirror again and bends over for him, wiggles her ass against his cock in teasing.

“Don’t--” he hisses as he tries to align himself to her opening.

This time, she stills. Allows him to slide into her the first time. And when he does, the rest of the world disappears. There’s only them. There’s only air that they share --a sigh of relief after holding their breath two years too long.

Harry fills her so blissfully well. With every draw, he aches her with such sweet sorrow of parting. But never too much, never too far. He’s got his hands on her waist and her breasts, his mouth warm and gentle on her neck. And with every thrust, floods her senses with the agonizing pleasure of reuniting. Again and again and again.

And the mirror shows it all. The red, black, and blue adorning their bodies. The scars are still fresh even though the pain had been inflicted for over two years. And despite the brutal violence they had subjected each other to earlier…

The sheer tenderness between them.

Bel has always enjoyed sex. She had always appreciated sex, be it for the dangerous advantage or the simple joy of having that kind of connection with other people. But she never understood the kind of sex that transcends time. Circumstance. Fault.

Until this. Until Harry.

Right now, he slips his smart hand between her legs, finds the button that sends her shaking underneath him. Her back arches as she comes, her arms propping herself up before she wobbles at how good he’s making her feel. He holds her flush against his chest, his face buried in her shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m so close…” he moans in her ear, “Can I come? Please, can I come...”

His sex-drunk drawl only spurs her on, and she feels she might just come again. He looks so beautiful like this --breathless and blushing and brazenly desperate for release.

“Come for me, baby,” she breathes out. Then, she holds his chin up and says, “Look at me while you come.”

Maybe it’s the way he convulses around her. How his cock spurts out his release until she’s dripping between her thighs. Or the way he whimpers out her name the way she longed for. How her name echoes on from his mouth. Or simply the raw intimacy of gazing into his beautiful eyes in their most vulnerable moment. Watching them flutter closed because he’s so swept away by her.

Bel leans back onto his shoulders as they ride out their orgasm. Their chests heave up and down in unison as they relish the silence. It’s no longer cold and distant anymore; it’s warm now. As it should be.

They don’t leave each other’s side. Not in the shower --Bel gets on her knees and takes him in her mouth to return his wonderful favor. Not in the kitchen --when late dinner turns into lazy fucking against the kitchen counter. And certainly not in her ever loving bed, with Bel riding his face and his cock in a way they’ve always known. They come together and come back to each other more times than they care to count.

As if to make up for lost time.

Or to forget what’s to come.

“So… what now?” Bel asks eventually, as they lie tangled up in each other in her bed.

The sky’s a shade of rich blue fading into violet, much like what Bel’s hair used to be. But the sunrise slowly creeps in, drowning the purple in light yellow. It’s like watching an hourglass run out and Bel can’t help the sinking feeling in her gut.

But sweet, sweet Harry so plainly looks at her and proposes, “What if we just disappear?”

She bursts out laughing. “Are you mad?”

“Not at all. I have more money than we’ll ever need--”

“Money they can trace,” she reminds him.

“You’re good at disappearing.” he reminds her in turn. “I think we stand a real chance.”

“What, we’re just gonna pop over to Grand Central, get a train ticket somewhere, and just… go from there?”

Harry smiles, hopeful. As if saying why not.

And oh, how Bel holds on to that image for dear life. It’s all she thinks about as she untangles herself from him to dress up. Pack up her essentials in a backpack. Drafts up a resignation letter in her head. Imagines a world where they leave behind all this mess.

There would be no more lies. No more watching over and looking over from afar and wanting so much to just reach out. There would be no need to; they would just be together. Maybe running from those they crossed. Maybe fighting within an inch of their lives. Maybe, by some strange miracle, living a quiet peaceful life in some unexpected corner of the earth.

But as they walk into Grand Central Station, they’re met with deafening echoes of footsteps. The rumbling hustle and bustle of the morning rush hour. The ringing announcements of trains coming and going.

The sound of reality setting in.

The ticket booth is right there. The departure board lays out all the possibilities. All they need is to just pick a place, buy in cash, and go. Instead, Bel turns to Harry and asks,

“So… what now?”

Harry looks at her for a moment, that hopeful glint that she desperately clung onto earlier still glimmers through. But the more she tries to hold on, the more she realizes it’s not possible. The more it breaks her heart.

He sees the tears in her eyes, the struggle in keeping it together, and the hope fades.

“I’m supposed to fly back to London today, you?”

“DC by noon.”

They don’t say anything else. They don’t have to. The tears slip out and their hands slip away, but neither goes addressed. Harry wants to say fuck it so bad, frantically searches for any possible escape in his head no matter how slight. How unlikely. But they both know it.

This is where they part.

He only has one last question to ask her.

“Will I see you again?”

Her lips quiver and she can’t hold back the tears and the sobs anymore, and it scares him. It scares him to know that that is enough of an answer. It scares him that this is the last they’ll see of each other --beaten and broken down in every which way.

“I’ll find you, alright? And I’ll tell you how to find me.”

But she says that and Harry nearly breaks down in relief. It’s not nearly enough, but it’ll do. And God, his chest is about to explode with what he feels for her right now. He just needs to come out and say it.

“Bel, I--”

“Don’t.” she surges forward and leans close to him, her hand cupping his face like the first time they kissed again last night. “Just… don’t.”

A stray tear rolls down between their cheeks as their lips meet and they don’t know who it belongs to. She just connects their lips together without a word– not that any of it’s necessary. They simply want to savor this kiss for as long as they can --they don’t know how long they need to hold onto it after all.

Harry pulls away first, leans his forehead against hers, moving up to kiss her nose. She huffs out a dry laugh, but kisses his nose back. It’s a meager little semblance of relief, but aren’t they glad for it.

“I’ll be seeing you, okay?” he smiles, willing that hopeful smile back even as the sadness bleeds in.

“I’ll be seeing you,” she repeats after him, slowly but steadily stepping away from him. Turning her back, even though she still looks over his shoulder for that old familiar face.

They don’t say goodbye. They refused to.

Because this isn’t it.

✨✨✨

Please please please tell me what you think and talk to me about this! I sprinkled so many lil easter eggs for you 💞 do like, comment, and reblog!!!!

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