THE HOLLAND BOYS AND HARRISON OSTERFIELD IMAGINES

Blow a kiss , Fire a gun 15

Written by: @/hollandroos

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: 3.8K

It was the night of the gala and Tom was frantically trying to get ready. Preparing everything from his outfit to security measures for you and Haz but now you sat in the dimly lit bedroom, him throwing his outfit on in a bit of a hurry and you'd giggle every time he tripped or stumbled whilst throwing his pants on, or his fingers stumbled over a t-shirt button.

"Why can't you just not go? Stay with me" You fell onto the large bed, the comforter making you bounce up and down lightly a couple times.

"You know I'd much rather stay here with you, Pretty girl" He tugged his socks up, the jet black blazer tightening around his biceps for a moment. It was true. He'd rather stay with you, wrapped up underneath the blankets or attempting to do make some homemade cookies like you'd done for the last day and a half. But work remained.

Tom looked good, amazing even. You just wished that you could go with him, taking in the high life by his side, have a few drinks and socialize.

"It's been a while since I've dressed up." You groaned, patting the white duvet with the palms of your hands. "Put on a pretty dress, done my hair and makeup."

Tom wrapped the tie around his neck, beginning to do the thing up. You could easily remember being a kid, watching your father get ready for events like these. He always went above and beyond, pulling out the fanciest, most expensive outfit from his wardrobe and dressing to the nines. He'd come home drunk off of his feet, boasting about a new deal he'd managed to snag.

But now you were watching Tom-, your husband get ready, every aspect of the outfit complimenting him perfectly, He looked intimidating and you knew that if anyone was going to be watched closely tonight it'd be him. All eyes would be on your man. Whether or not they were good eyes, you had no idea.

Tom wasn't a fan. "You don't need all of that, you already look fucking delicious in what you're wearing now."

You laughed at his choice of words, the sweater hanging off of you and leggings that clung to your legs could say otherwise.

He spoke again. "I'd love to have you on my arm tonight, showing you off to everyone there, princess, but it's too dangerous. If anything were to happen to you, this is the type of place it'd happen. There are too many people, not enough security."

Tom would of loved to have you there, arms wrapped tightly around your waist as others gushed and stared, taking in the mafia boss and his utterly beautiful lady, but it wasn't the place. He couldn't keep you beside him for the whole night, possibly having to run off to private meeting rooms to make deals and discuss private business with clients.

And while he trusted you alone with Harrison at home, he didn't know how he felt about leaving the two of you in that big hall, surrounded by dangerous people and the odd few-, or more, that could be holding a grudge on Tom. If someone got to you and he couldn't be there, he feared that Harrison wouldn't be able to protect you as well as him.

How would he cope? Losing two of his best friends.

"I understand." You got up, making your way over to Tom, bare feet padding against the fluffy carpet. "Sure you aren't going to come home with another girl on your arm?" you joked.

Tom grinned cheekily, when your hands made there way around his tie, straightening it out since he hadn't picked up the slight angle it hung on just yet.