THE HOLLAND BOYS AND HARRISON OSTERFIELD IMAGINES

Blow a kiss , Fire a gun 9

Summary: You're arranged to married 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: 3.5k

Warnings: Light mentions of sexual assault and abuse

When Tom had told you that you had to head out to run some errands with him for the day, You hadn't expected any less then the black, tinted car was sitting ready outside his place. You'd already expected him to have fancy cars and you'd gotten a glimpse at that the night he took you to one of his events.

Tom Holland was always going above and beyond, throwing around dollar bills where he could.

But after hours of running between shops, waiting in the car and trying to come up with small talk that didn't involve flirting or put-downs you were hungry and possibly dehydrated. You were at that stage of hunger where anything sounded good as long as it was edible and Tom hadn't been helping in that situation.

You were starting to feel like a child from the amount of 'Can we go home now?' and 'Can you get me food?'s that were starting to fall from your lips and while Tom found it humorous the first few times, he was now sitting beside you with a firm glare.

"Can we grab some lunch? I'm hungry" You asked once again, staring longingly at the small cafe across from the car. You'd even be satisfied with a little caffeine to get you through, but Tom seemed to be taking his pleasure from watching you suffer in the passenger seat.

"I'll get Mark to cook you something when we get back" Mark was his chef, someone that a twenty-two-year-old relied on for all of his meals. "It's not safe"

Of course, you'd been on edge since the note arrived, but refusing to let that get you down you were hiding your fear, keeping it deep down inside where you refused to believe it even existed. Tom was more on edge then you were, watching your every move as well as every step his men took.

"You've said that five times now." You rolled your eyes. "C'mon, Tom. When will it ever be safe?"

"Exactly, so until whoever is threatening you is dead or restrained we're not going out into the open like that" He folded his arms, tugging a pair of black sunglasses on and you couldn't help but notice how his muscles tensed beneath his white shirt. "I'm not paranoid, sweetheart, just looking out for you"

"That surely does sound like something a paranoid person would say" You joke.

"I'm not paranoid, I'm careful. That's exactly how I got where I am today." He grips the steering wheel, getting ready to flick the car into drive.

"You know what? That's okay, you don't have to but I'm sure as heck going in"

"With what money?" He smirked, thinking he was sly before you flash him a note.

"The money I found stashed in your glove department when you ran into the Tailors" With that you climbed out of the expensive vehicle, shutting the door and giving Tom a tight wave.

You knew what you were doing, without a single doubt you knew that Tom was going to follow you. You were just shocked that he hadn't locked the door or done more to stop you when you reached for the handle.

Of course he did exactly as you'd suspected, jumping straight out of the car the moment you reached the road and was beside you in seconds. You smirked and began crossing, Tom kept one step ahead of you the whole time, watching wildly to make sure any cars came out of nowhere, knocking the two of you out or suddenly pulled out a gun.

The cafe was adorable on the outside, definitely not Toms style judging by the array of colourful flowers outside and the small groan that escaped his lips when you walked inside, a bell going off above your heads.