THE HOLLAND BOYS AND HARRISON OSTERFIELD IMAGINES

Blow a kiss , Fire a gun 11

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: 2.8k

-
A few mornings later you woke up beside Tom. You remembered going to sleep, him with an arm flung around your waist as his legs tangled with yours but somehow you'd now ended up on the right side of the bed, blankets pulled tightly around your shoulders while he lay on the left side, skin exposed.

After the night that he finally found it in him to open up, It was pretty safe to say that you'd unlocked a whole new side to Tom. Not only did he lighten up, but he found himself forming new habits.

He'd gotten into the habit of pulling you into his lap whenever he got a free moment and had time to sit and watch a tv show with you, or gripping your hand whenever you were with him in his office and one of his men happened to walk in to update him on a situation, Even pulling you into his arms in bed at night where it'd stay until ultimately one of you fell asleep.

And whenever you'd have to spend the day with Harrison, he'd check that things hadn't gone south that day, listening to you as you rambled on about the things you and Haz had done, even convincing Harrison to give you a couple self-defence lessons.

Of course, Tom wasn't always the best at explaining his feelings. These acts were all a sign of protection, it was Tom showing you that he had your back without actually having to say that as well as a sign of dominance and while you fell together well, there was a constant fight for power between the two you. You weren't willing to abide and listen and Tom had learned to respect that, just as you had to respect that he was a busy person and usually couldn't stick around for long periods of time and was often rushed off, or came home with an extra bruise or two.

It was almost like that day in the stall had unleashed something else, his feelings perhaps. But seeing you so scared, so vulnerable put a damper on his heart. Tom was always possessive of what was his, never overly possessive. But as a mafia boss, he liked control.

You almost completely forgot about his current mission, the one to find out who was threatening you. The key word in this sentence is almost, you almost forgot. Things seemed almost silent for a while, allowing you to settle into life with Tom and just be happy with him, despite the constant nagging in his gut, the one telling him that things aren't okay yet, his first priority was to find out who sent the note.

He never forgot, not for a second. Things may have been quiet for a few days, that didn't mean they'd stay that way.

You ran your fingers up and down his back softly, your fingertips only ever so gently caressing his skin. He didn't move, didn't even stir.

Tom was tough, he was ruthless. But he was also soft, kind-, to you at least.

He groaned into his pillow, tensing for a moment before rolling over onto his side, inching over so he was mere centimetres away from you and his body heat was enough to make you loosen the blanket that had just been tightly pulled around you.

"Goodmorning, angel" His voice was rough, husky and croaky from sleep and you found yourself melting into his arms. Toms' hair was sticking up in all directions, eyes still screwed shut and you found yourself pressing a light, feathery kiss to his chest.

Times like this you became vulnerable, allowing yourself to let your guard down and simply become someone else. His girl, per say.

"Morning" You mumble, breath tickling his bare chest.

"Sleep well?" He blinked a few times, eyes adjusting to the light and even though it was still dark in the room, Tom was able to make out your key features. The small glimmer in your eyes, curl of your lips.