THE HOLLAND BOYS AND HARRISON OSTERFIELD IMAGINES

Blow a kiss , Fire a gun 4

Summary: You're arranged to marry Tom Holland, Londons most feared mobster, but it's never easy. He doesn't seem to want you and you don't want anything to do with him.

Words: 3K

The days leading up the event were bland, they consisted of more exploring, playing with Tessa and picking out dresses. Tom had been busy with work, it was meeting after meeting and sometimes you wondered if he ever got overwhelmed. Sometimes people walked in and never walked out, but you never questioned that.

You had to admit, Tom had a good taste in clothing. He'd had a range of dresses sent to your room a day before the event, some shorter than others and some blatantly explicit. They were all either red, black or both and you had Harrison to help you pick out your outfit since he knew where the event was and you didn't. You tried time and time again to pry the venue out of him but he was under Tom's orders. Of course. But your company here was limited and Harrison was one of the only people that came to visit repeatedly, you saw him more then you saw Tom.

The two of you decided on a red dress, one that ended just above the knee and highlighted all of your best features. So slipping on the dress only hours before the event, simply made you feel amazing. And Tom must've thought so too by the way his eyes widened and filled with what could only be lust.

He was hooked, when he approved the dresses he knew they'd look good but this was beyond anything else, he almost didn't want to bring you with him. He felt something else, something he hadn't felt yet when it came to you and no, it wasn't love. He felt protective, maybe even need.

"We ready to go, dear husband?" You raised a brow. "My face is up here"

He trained his eyes on yours, not even trying to hide the fact that he'd been checking you out seconds before.

You'd admit that he looked good in his outfit too, the simple white t-shirt and black pants made him look good, amazing even but he didn't need to know that.

"I think we are"

"A brothel, you brought me to a fucking brothel!" You practically yelled, luckily for Tom the music was blasting through the speakers, your protests were quickly drowned by what only sounded like The Weeknd. "Tom, I'm not going in there, are you serious?"

You simply didn't like it. The loud music, flashing lights, and sexual music, not to mention the girls wearing next to nothing. It was derogatory and you felt exposed, like a snack in the other men's eyes so maybe that's why you stayed close to Tom, using him as your protection. In any other situation you would've wanted to stay far away from the man but now you wanted his presence.

Tom noticed it too, all of their eyes scanning you up and down as you walked into the room. They seemed to ignore the mobster at your side, practically keeping you under his arm.

For someone that'd been reasonably shielded from anything bad since childhood from the mobs to drugs and prostitution, this was next level. You didn't have to be a genius to know that this was wrong.

"It's my job to be serious. If you don't want to come in then I'm sure the driver wouldn't mind you sitting in the care for a few hours" Tom wouldn't make you sit in the car for hours, he could easily have the driver take you home but he wanted you here and what Tom wanted, he got.

"Here of all places?" You screwed up your face as the stench of alcohol and cigarettes became over powering.

"I have to make an appearance, Poppet" People started really noticing the two of you, pointing to Tom and whispering between each other. Harrison stood on the other side of the club already and you could only imagine how many weapons were in the building, despite the rule.