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snlhostharry · 3 years

Text

try try again

harry x reader

2.2k words

summary: harry wants to propose, but life keeps getting in the way

a/n: first off... I suck at titles... why am I like this.... second off this is my secret santa gift for @jambrosemc ! happy holidays em! hope you like this, you are a super talented writer I just binged all your pieces and I am obsessed. and thank you to @peeterparkr for hosting

The first time he tries is after the first concert he does for Fine Line.

Fine Line at the Forum is a success in all the ways that matter, and Harry is so happy coming off the stage that he almost forgets about his plan to propose all together. When you barge into his dressing room after the show is over, smiling and ecstatic for him he suddenly sees the ring box on the counter and rushes to shove it in his pocket before you can see it.

“That was insane, love,” You say wrapping him into a hug. “I think they really liked it.”

He gives you a cheeky smile, “You think?” You roll your eyes in response, “What gave it away?” He asks, “The frantic screaming or the bra’s that were thrown onto the stage?”

“You should’ve kept a couple,” You tease, “They could’ve been my size.”

He laughs, “If you want one that bad I will buy it for you.”

“I’m holding you to that,” You say, taking a seat on top of the counter. He runs a hand through his hair, knowing that this would be the perfect moment to just get down on one knee. He can see himself doing it, simply bending down and saying the words he’s wanted to say for what feels like forever. “You okay?” You ask him, seeing the look on his face and supposing that he’s thinking about something that happened during the concert. “You did a great job out there, seriously. Everyone really loved it H, the album is spectacular.”

He shakes himself back into the moment, “I know, I know.” He says, and it comes off a little sharper than he means it too, he’s just very much in his own head about this whole thing now. What felt like it would be the perfect moment now feels wrong, like doing it now would cheapen the entire thing. He sighs, “Sorry,” He says, planting himself down on the floor dramatically, “Thank you.”

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to,” You tell him, guessing that he’s just tired from a long night. “Let’s get takeout and go home, or go home and get takeout whichever order.”

He smiles, “You ate before the show.”

“That was like three hours ago, and it was a snack, I always planned on eating again, and you were too nervous to eat before the show.”

He hugs his knees to his chest, “Watching you eat an entire kids meal in under five minutes actually helped with the nerves.”

You shrug, “What can I say? I have my moments.”

He stands and presses a kiss to your forehead as you swing your legs over the side of the counter. “You have a lot of moments, I love you.”

“Love you too,” You wait a second before asking, “So home then?”

He thinks about it for a minute, “Yeah.”

“When you call in the food order make sure you put it under my name,” You tell him and he collects his things from the room, “People are beginning to get suspicious when I go into the restaurant to pick up an order for Harry.”

He nods, and gently grabs your hand as the two of you leave. Maybe he’s not going to do it tonight, but he’s more resolved to actually pop the question than ever. He’s just so in love with you that he wants the whole thing to be perfect, and for some reason he has it all in his head that it needs to be a story that the two of you can tell in the future, something meaningful, he just has absolutely no idea what that is.

The second planned attempt is a lot more off the cuff.

You insist on throwing him a birthday party at the house, saying something about wanting to one up your sister who threw a very tasteful christmas party that the two of you went to. Not that your sister was invited seeing as the party was in London, but you knew that there would be enough pictures that she would see that you’re just as good as she is. Harry doesn’t understand it at all, but he decides that he doesn't even want to know how a rivalry like that can develop and leaves it alone.

Objectively, you throw a very nice party. Of course Harry makes it a point to tell you this as often as possible without seeming overly invested in it, because he loves you and he wants you to be proud of your own work just like you want him to be proud of his. It’s hard for him to leave your side at all because he loves to see you talk to his friends and family and seem so happy to do it. You fit right in with everyone and he’s so grateful for that, and it’s as he’s standing there watching you talk to people that it hits him that this could be his moment.

Not in front of everyone because that would be so much more pressure than he needs, but he thinks that after when everyone has finally left the house that he could catch you in the middle of cleaning or something and gently ask you to marry him. He decides that tonight, that’s the plan and he spends the rest of the night just thinking about that. It really is a great party, full of all his favorite things and people, it’s one of those nights where he feels like he loves you so much that his heart might just burst out of his chest.

When finally every last guest has left the house, and things are a bit messy, he can’t seem to find you anywhere. He locks the door behind him, and starts walking through the house calling your name. He checks upstairs, in the kitchen, in all the bathrooms, and nothing. Until finally he walks into the living room and finds you sound asleep on the couch, snoring loudly enough that he’s surprised he didn’t hear it while he was looking. He looks at you and just smiles, suddenly completely fine with the fact that another plan has been ruined. He simply picks you up and takes you to bed, well aware he’s going to have to move onto plan C if he ever wants to get this done.

The next time he tries, you end up surprising him.

Plan C is a nice candlelight dinner at the house, which Harry tried to cook but ended up burning so eventually he relented and ordered food before putting it all together. Of all the plans he had come up with thus far, this one seemed the most foolproof. Everything was already planned: he knew you were going to come home from work at a certain time, he knew that there wouldn't be any distractions, and he had psyched himself up enough that he wasn’t just going to forget about the whole thing like he did the first time.

When the entire table is set up and the ring is in his pocket, he sits waiting for you to come home. He thinks about getting up to change some of the place settings just a little, but when he does he hears the clicking sound of your key in the door and sits back in his seat. After you walk into the house and set your stuff down in the entryway, Harry hears the sound of your shoes on the floor as you excitedly run into the kitchen. When you make it to where he can see you, he sees that you have a megawatt smile on your face and a large box in your hands.

“I have a surprise,” You say, keeping a firm hold of the box.

“I suppose it’s in that box,” He says, leaning over the chair so that he can see.

You roll your eyes but keep smiling, “Yeah, obviously.”

“Do you want me to guess?”

“God no,” You say, “That would take way too long. Basically I was at work today, and Mark has been producing this piece about a no kill animal shelter for a new segment about everyday heroes or whatever which is gross because puff pieces but when the woman came in to do the interview she brought in all these cats, no dogs for some reason, but anyway so we were all playing with the cats because our job is stressful and cats, and then she was like ‘you guys seem so good with these cats, they are looking for homes and-”

He looks at you with a wide eyed expression, “You didn’t.”

You ceremoniously walk over to the table, open the box and pull a small orange cat into your arms, “You bet your ass I did.” You gently pet the cat, which mews quietly from your arms, “She does not have a name mostly because I couldn’t think of any.”

“We talked about pets like a week ago, briefly.”

You give a guilty smile, “Yeah but I felt like I really needed this cat. I live here now, we live here, and I finally feel like I’m settled-” You sit down at the table and sigh, “I think I might be nesting, which is kind of gross but I don't know. I love you, and I love being here and I finally feel stable enough to get a freaking cat so that’s the explanation I have.”

He can’t stop himself from breaking into a smile, even though he knows his plans have been thwarted again. (He thinks later, after the moment has already passed that he very well could’ve done it right then and there after you’d given a whole speech about the two of you being stable). He shakes his head after looking at you making funny faces at the cat like it’s a child, “Okay hand her over.”

You hand her over and say, “I will not accept any names that have to go with the fact that she’s a ginger, because that’s just lame.”

“Well seeing as those were my only ideas-”

You sigh, “We will think of something, just not now because you got dinner and I’m starving.”

“What’s she going to eat?”

“I got food and a bowl, and a bunch more things being delivered within the next week or two.”

“Did you go out and buy a box just for the dramatic reveal?”

“Yes, I did and it was totally worth it.”

The cat’s name ends up being Hillary, after you discover an affinity for pet names that are usually person names. Something about the way you’ll end up talking about Hillary in polite conversation and someone will have to ask you who that is makes you want to choose it overall. Even though Harry is not sure about the sudden change at first, he soon becomes best friends with Hillary, and you often find the two of them cuddled up together on the couch. She likes to listen to him play music just as much as you do as it turns out.

Harry is still trying to think of a way to propose. So much time has passed since he bought the ring, and the first time that he planned to pop the question that he wonders if he’ll ever find the right time to do it or if you’ll just end up asking him one day because it’s all gone too far. One afternoon when the two of you are relishing a rare shared day off, he watches you cook lunch in the kitchen and decides that now is the time to do it. No more excuses, no more surprises, just him and you and the question on the tip of his tongue for too long.

When you put all of the food on plates, and set them out on the counter he walks over and just looks at you. It weirds you out at first so you ask, “What? Is there something on my face?”

He gets down on one knee and you still are very confused about what he’s doing. You open your mouth to ask him, but the realization suddenly hits you and you cover your mouth with your hands.

“y/n,” He says, “I have been waiting to ask you this for what feels like forever. And everytime that the plan fell through you somehow managed to make me want to marry you even more. I love you so much, I love everything about you, how excited you get about your work, how much you love Hillary and how supportive you are whenever I do anything. I love our life here, and I want to be with you forever. Will you marry me?”

You don’t say anything for a second, still shocked, “Yes of course.” He stands and kisses you, slipping the ring onto your finger. “I was wondering when you would ask me.”

“You knew?”

“I saw it that night after the forum,” You say, “I figured you got nervous.”

“And you just let me flounder here for almost six months?”

“Yes,” You smile, “I figured you wanted to do it on your own terms.”

“Next time just call me out love, because I sat on this for too long.”

#peetersanta #why am I posting this so late? because Im ~impatient~#I need feedback NOW #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #my writing

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peeterparkr · 3 years

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invisible string;tom holland.

summary: life has a way of pulling you and Tom close to each other, then it pulls you apart.

“It is like an invisible red cord or thread which connects you to that one person you’re destined to meet, your true love.”

soulmate au

word count: 6.4k

pairing: tom holland x reader

warnings: breakup mention, fluff, angst. fluffy angst.

LOOK I TRIED TO WRITE FLUFF BUT I’M NOT GOOD AT IT SO ANGST CAME BUT I TRIED BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

heavily inspired by folklore and evermore by taylor

thanks @jambrosemc for helping me you’re amazing

So, this is for one of my best friends here, @badhollandfluff, Delaney I’m sorry this took so long but I wanted it to be perfect for you, surprise!!! I’m your secret Santa! Love you, hope you had an amazing Christmas and I wish you a happy new year, I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Thanks to everyone who joined, happy holidays!!

No one ever has time. We’re always running and rushing and trying to save a little, it’s always like we have it counted and we never truly realize time is passing by. The clock keeps ticking. You were a victim of that, sometimes, always running, never knowing why. Time always going faster than you wanted it to be.

Until it stopped, it had stopped since last year.

There you were now. A white mug. These days you don’t really see that. Everyone has the paper cups with the coffee collar. Their names scribbled on black that probably still smells like sharpie. But you were holding a white mug, that now was just slightly stained by your pink lipstick.

The mug was stained inside too, with the leftover foam of your capuchino. You were letting it set cold, watching as the people would walk in. Waiting.

You trailed your gaze around the room, there are some couples around you.

You liked the idea of this café, with people gathering around just for the simple fact of drinking a hot coffee out of a mug. You like to come here, to sit out your thoughts, sometimes you’ll find some time to work, read. But you’d be alone. You’ve been lonely lately.

It didn’t matter, it’s fair to point that out. But today, you were going to meet him. Again.

But you didn’t know that yet.

You had once read about soul connections, interested if you’d ever find your own, seemed like most people around had met them. You hadn't. Not the one you were longing to find, that is.

Bizarre.

Honestly, you didn’t believe in them. Or you liked to say that to yourself, sad enough to admit you hadn’t found any type of strong connection.

Or maybe you had.

But it made absolutely remotely no sense, at all.

How could you? There was absolutely no scientific proof that there were soulmates, and though everyone said you could feel them, that you’d sense it, and though the extinguished sadness on your friends could be proof enough, you were still sceptic. Maybe just doubting if you’d find yours. Or maybe you didn’t want to accept who was yours.

Because Tom had left.

Your friends had assured you that when they’d found it the world had turned idyllic, a pink life.

Yeah, it had felt like that when you’d found Tom, but now everything was gray.

However, you knew more about them than anyone else. You had researched about them, you had read about them and you were so informed that you sometimes didn’t even believe it.

Though you liked to ignore that sometimes there was a song stuck in your head without reason or there was a sudden joy, that had no possible explanation.

“It’s your soulmate,” someone would point out.

It wasn’t, it’s just Tom’s favorite song.

There was also a sense of pain, sometimes you didn’t understand why you felt such a heartbreak, how bad had they hurt them? If they did exist, that is.

They didn’t, though.

You’d read about that heart connection, that feelings connect trying to understand how it comes and goes.

There are three types of connections. Karmic partnership, soulmates and twin flames. Different types of connections.

First ones, karmic partnership, and it is as bad as it sounds. They’re often confused as soulmates and people like to cling to them. They’re… awful, being the one heartache that is there to teach a lesson, the one person that is there to show you something about yourself, the one person who is strictly there for character development, let’s say. The one person you fall in love with and keep falling in love, but it’s not love, no matter how many times they hurt each other they go back. It’s not love, though. Or maybe it is, but there reason they exist is strictly to make you reason. It becomes….Cyclic. Until you finally decide to break the cycle. Intense transformation, the one person that makes you see yourself from a different perspective and change. There is, however, no compatibility.

Probably what you had with Tom. But… no, it wasn’t… There was too much compatibility.

You’ve had your fair share of them, maybe you’ve had

Then there are the soulmates. The perfect compatibility.

The one connection that is beautiful, a person that you just… feel it. The one person you feel like you’ve waited for them your whole life. Strong compatibility, there are more than one soulmate, that is to say, it could be friends, it could be family. It doesn’t have to be a romantic partner. There are soulmates that you wonder how they can be such an incredible connection.

Everyone has soulmates. You knew you’d met some of them, the friends one that is. None of them a connection strong enough to be your partner. Not that you didn’t want to, though.

Or maybe you didn’t want to acknowledge it.

You’ve read somewhere in the internet that there are connections that go beyond your wildest imagination. Go beyond soulmates. The… twin flames, the one your soul is so attached to, you can feel their pain, their joy.

Journeys end when lovers meet.

It’s fair to say, you’ve never believed in that information. Less after a heartbreak.

You had a million thoughts over your head, oozing you with stress and feeding your not long enough sleep schedule. You were slightly angry, you’d say. You didn’t like him anymore.

There are two kinds of people when it comes to liking someone. The ones who go forward it, fighting for it, hinting on it. Flirting as if there was no tomorrow. People like Tom.

And then there’s people who run away from feelings and try to pretend to act natural around their crushes. People who definitely don’t want to overstep boundaries and are afraid of ruining friendships. People like you.

But there was nothing to ruin now, was there?

Because there’s also people who give up. People like him. And people who never dare to forget. People like you.

It was never even.

But you keep daydreaming about him and can’t help that tinge of red spreading across your cheekbones every time he was near you. You shouldn’t have given in. You should’ve fought, but you were reckless. A sunrise dropping by again, and you wondered what had gone wrong.

Tom wanted to talk, you didn’t. You loved him, he didn’t love you.

Tom was gone. For good.

An unstoppable force meets an immovable object.

It’s the kind of love that you’d probably want to avoid. You at least, avoided all kinds. After him, who’d want to love anyone else? He was the only one who could tell if you dared to smile with your eyes only.

How stupid were you to believe he was your soulmate.

But no, this wasn’t right. Because feelings make everything blurry and it’s something not exact. If it wasn’t for science and numbers you didn’t like to believe anything. If you don’t know how it’ll turn out then you’ll probably avoid it. And when it comes to relationships, you never truly know. Or sometimes you do, but it’s usually... not pretty. You’d learned that with him.

Relationships end, and while you don’t want them to. You’ve sensed it, from the beginning. And you just hope that they’ll remember you in a nice way. Did he? Or had he just passed the page.

You still felt stuck in a chapter. He had stopped reading. So hard to be on different books now.

But with him, He was an exception. He was pushy and wasn’t giving up at the beginning until he did. You had seen him fall out of love, and that’s the worst kind of thing you get to face, when you see them slowly trailing far from you.

Plans? Dreams? The willow tree in that park when you had first kissed was still crying over your breakup. Your head had been low since you’d last kissed him. Had you known it was your last, you’d probably would’ve made it last longer, you would’ve held him for more time. You wouldn’t have let him leave.

But you had had your moment with him. It had been the last time you saw him. The one moment when you realized that his fake smile was just that, how convenient and cliche. But you didn’t want to give you in, just yet. No, you wouldn’t. He’d changed, and you didn’t like who he was now. Too changed, too built up, too busy, too whatever you could come up with.

You got tired of begging, and then he was easy to forget, you hadn’t forgotten. Just two years ago you thought he’d made a decision, you had made it. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with him. But he didn’t. And you couldn’t stop him, he was growing and growing and simply he escaped from your touch.

Then it had been a goodbye, and nobody had seen it coming. You had, you’d known it for a long time. And it was weird, you were so in love with him that you knew that it was the best for you both, to get away because though you loved him, you knew he wouldn’t be happy with you. It’s difficult to let go of what makes you happy.

You remembered it, how both of you would only smile at each other, like damn strangers, say a few hellos, and a fews how’s the weather, as if you hadn’t spent countless nights in between the sheets, as if you hadn’t danced in the middle of the night, as if you hadn’t given him each of the stars in the night sky, as if you hadn’t shared enough drinks together. Or as if you hadn’t fought for your love. You with that red jacket of his. How every path led to him. How every stupid weekend belonged to him, but now you wished they’d pass by sooner.

Maybe that’s why you were always rushing, so you wouldn’t feel it. You didn’t like the weekends anymore.

And now, she looked at him the way you were supposed to look at him. At first, it had hurt just a little, you hadn’t believed it. You knew it, everybody wanted to love him, but nobody knew what it felt, the crushing feeling that was loving him. How much it hurt, to watch him paddling with a precious smile, and those pair of angelic eyes, so pure and then turn into a devil just for you.

Nobody knew how it felt. Anticipating a heartbreak every time he walked in, and to pretend that you didn’t feel that anymore.

Last time only you thought you’d give him your heart, and he had pushed you away because his heart belonged to someone else. Then it was forbidden, to think about him, to dream about him, to still smell his scent on your pillows. It wasn’t right.

How could his heart ever belong to someone else but you?

And you had to smile, to say you were happy for him. Because you were, and that new girl was a fool because anyone who dares to fall for him is a fool, tangled in between lies. She who dares to love him is willing to have her heart crushed by him. And who but a fool is willing to let your heart be crushed by him.

Last time you’d seen him had been a friday night, 10pm on that one pub he liked going to. You had gone out with your friends, and he was there, with her against his shoulder, her with the long hair and the perfect smile, perfect laugh.

To think that had been your place once. You had avoided his gaze, ignored he was there. Pretending he hadn’t seen you. But he had. Pretending you hadn’t seen him. But you had.

Someone had said there is life after love, but there is not love after him. It’s like you’d thrown everything to the fire, and he had watched it burn. Everyone said it: you’ll be happy.

When?

Sure, it’d come, eventually. But it had been a year.

You’d heard he had broken up with her, a while ago. Then it was that hope again, probably why you were recurring to that café.

It’s funny to think you’ll love someone forever, and then it just… disappears. Every promise eventually breaks, every kiss eventually fades, and love is eventually gone.

Then why wasn’t it?

Time was your biggest enemy.

Your story with him, from the moment you’d first seen him, he was just—perfect, you thought about it, how everyone said it was your soulmate. And you believed it. From the moment you’d met him, you had finally believed in soulmates, because it made sense. How your story had been built up to him, and how many times of sudden joy had you had before meeting him because of how close you were.

Life had been so reckless. You were supposed to meet him several times before you actually met. It was stupid to think, how you were always thinking about it, now that you were apart.

The first time you’d ever crossed paths had been when you had been very, very young. You didn’t know he had been there, not aware, at a park. And there had been this sudden joy. You remembered feeling it, you’d said it, felt a spark.

Just children unaware of a flame burning too deep inside of you.

That other time, at the supermarket when both of you had gone with each other’s mothers and both of you had been playing with the toys.

You’d never forgotten that one very time, first time your hands ever touched, and it had felt like electricity. Two kids very confused by that spark, when both of them had reached to that one toy, confused.

Or that one time at the café when he had walked in, you were sure he had walked in, you’d felt it, how your heart had started to beat so fast, but before you could even glance at him he had walked out. Lost in the crowds, always.

How both of you had had a broken heart at the same time. First kiss had been almost at the same time, just blocks away, actually.

Or how you’d both been at that one party, but didn’t know about it. It made no sense how life had been so desperate to get you together but both your surroundings pulled you away. That night had been so close, both dancing behind each other, singing on top of your lungs to the same stupid song.

Or that one time when someone had pointed him to you when you were at that one pub, “look, that guy is cute.”

You had looked at him, he was. Shy smiles had only been directed in each other’s direction.

You’d later learned he’d sent you a drink but the waiter had mistaken the table.

That one time when you had run out of cash at that sandwich place because their card machine had stopped working, you were rushing, and you were missing only cents, and Tom had come to your rescue.

Or how he worked near you and his dad had been friends with your mom at some point. How his favorite song was the same as yours, and how often you’d be at the same park, him on his phone, you reading a book.

How you’d once met his dog that had run over to you. A dog that would learn to love you and did miss you from time to time.

How Tom had randomly found that one book you’d lost at the park once, under that willow tree and he’d read it. Loved it and then lost it again at that same park, with a random paper note that read: “Jerry’s 8pm, wine.” he’d used as a book separator.

Who was Jerry? What would happen at 8pm? Wine? What type? Red? Rose? White? Why were you so intrigued by that note?

You’d kept it to this day. Still didn’t know what it was. You knew Jerry now, though, he was a friend. And now you knew that he liked wine but preferred beer.

You’d given him a pretty book separator. He still had kept it to this day, never used it, he always used random notes or napkins or whatever he found. At first it stressed you, how many book separators did you not have and he’d use napkins or those fortune papers that come with fortune cookies. So you had transformed into a better habit, you would write notes so he’d used them. You’d order chinese food more often, too.

He said he’d always remember that, your little notes, the way you always stained your cup of coffee with lipstick, your two left feet when you danced, or the fact that your laugh would be heard across a room. He’d always recognize your laugh.

What a Whimsical thing love is when it’s not the right time.

How many times have you not felt like there was something missing? Until he appeared, at that one park near the cafe where you are sitting right now. The first time you’d ever officially met. Nothing out of a book, something very casual. Both of you at that café, it had been crowded that one day and the only chair available was the one in front of you.

“I’m sorry, hello,” he had said, making you look up from your book. “May—I sit here?” He asked. “There’s no other chair left in the room and—“

“Yeah, yeah, hi, you can sit,” you had said, without really looking at him, but the moment you had, the moment your eyes had met his, you had…. felt like the whole surrounding had disappeared and you were the only people in the room, it seemed he had also noticed something.

A cold november evening, both of you had a reason to go home yet neither of you had gone home. Both of you had found a way to that café, with coffees in a mug. The leaves falling outside.

He had sat right in front of you, you couldn’t help but blush when noticing he was attractive, very attractive. But there was something else about him, maybe it had been the way he couldn’t sit still. He had stared at you, and smiled.

From the very first time you’d ever seen his smile, you knew three things,

His smile was the prettiest thing you’d ever laid your eyes on

His smile was so familiar

His smile would eventually break your heart.

The third one wasn’t as cheerful but you could tell, he was one of those guys who could easily break someone’s heart in a blink.

It didn’t take him a blink to break yours. You’d need a lifetime to break his.

“I’m Tom.”

“Y/N.”

Both of you liked to debate over who’d talk to who first, it didn’t matter honestly. You both remembered how both of you had ordered the same drink, a cappuccino. Neither of you liked it, but apparently both of you had wanted to ask for something new.

You’d always do that. Taste new drinks.

And it had been… as if you’d met before. You had, multiple times before, but neither one knew, of course. Not at that point, but like you were meant to find him. The sun had gone down and it had been hours and hours of you talking to each other, like old friends who knew their deepest secrets and were catching up, laughs becoming one melody, and both of you had soon realized the cafe hadn’t been that crowded. Maybe it had been the damn destiny pulling you together. To that cafe near the park with that willow tree.

He had asked questions you didn’t have the answers to back then. You did now.

Before you knew it, you were walking with a stranger through the London night, seeing people walk by and not looking at them, because somehow you’d both walked to that one park. Both of you had discovered you both liked to sit on that one bench near the willow tree. How many times had you missed the other jusy by a matter of minutes.

“You’re kidding, I love this place, I’m always here,” he had said.

“I am, too, weird we’d never met before,” you had chuckled.

You honestly didn’t remember how or why it had happened. A kiss. You’d kissed a stranger who didn’t feel like a stranger at all.

“I’m sorry, I-” He had started.

“No, it’s--”

And then kissed again. Your stomach had dropped and had been replaced with butterflies. How had a simple cappuccino led to this?

He’d given you a smile and a promise. You’d met him the next day, and the other one, and the next one. With that stupid smile of his.

You missed that smile, or how he flirted with you, make you giggle with a stupid joke, or how he’d open his arms to you and kiss you, tumbling down to the couch. The way he’d make you listen to him ramble about his latest discovery. How he always found a way to make you smile in the crowds, always holding your hand, new dates in different places.

“What do you mean you’ve never gone paintball?”

Weekends only for him, going for breakfast, for dinner, for lunch, for tea, for this, for that. . Then it was the weeknights too, always finding time for you, traditions you created and that you got rid off. Laying down on the grass, looking at stars, kissing in bars, dancing in his living room, your head on his shoulder in movie theatres, his scent on your pillow, his favorite movies next to your dvd, your perfume in his closet and your toothbrush in his bathroom. Notes he’d written to remember things all around your place. Birthdays, new year, parties.

Endless nights of laugh, of wine and of nothing at all. Kissing. Video Games you didn’t understand, failed attempts to bake, watching sport games he loved and you… tolerated. Him finally agreeing to watch that movie with Ryan Gosling.

“Why Ryan Gosling?”

Building plans together, nights of both of you debating on something stupid. Singing on top of your lungs without knowing the lyrics. Getting lost together, that one roadtrip where neither of you knew the way and ended up at that one hotel in the middle of the road. Kissing. Learning to read every emotion, and being each other’s blankets. Hearing each other’s ugly laughs, and crying in front of the other. Being each other’s confort. Hugging him when you were scared at the movie. Meeting the parents.

“They loved you, don't worry.”

Always holding each other’s hands. Fights under the rain. Making up hours later and cuddling to let go of it. Being friends with each other’s friends. Seeing friends getting engaged, going to the weddings. Talking about a wedding. Learning, becoming their best selves.

Then…. Cold.

He’d left you when you had been the most in love with him. When you thought he’d shows up with a ring. But he had said goodbye instead. With his picture on your phone and your hand cold with no one to hold. He’d changed your life, completely.

You’d learned so, so, so much. And at some point you…. Realized it.

You should’ve known, he was not your soulmate.

You’d read somewhere about twin flames. Yeah… you had, about the one soul that changes your life.

You’d learned about the importance of the sunrise and the sunset, how beautiful both of them are, and how dizzy you can get when you get to see both because you didn’t get to sleep because you had laughed and kissed all night.

They say time is wise, yet you still were hurting and you still loved him. Because it was like his love was a thread still engraved to your own very soul. And though when you were with him it was timeless, you’d learned to give more minutes to the hours you were with him so you spend just a little bit more time staring into his eyes. How you’d learned about the importance of one’s sight, and how the eyes are the doors to the soul, he’d opened his soul completely to yours. And it was so beautiful and so easy to read.

You’d learned a lot of things, like how to throw pebbles in the ‘right way’ to the river. You’d learned how to lie to your friends so you could go see him, late at night when the moon is the only light shining above yours. You’d learned that mistakes aren’t the end of the world and that you actually are very good at baseball.

Tom had shown you how to distinguish between a guitar and a bass, not sure why you’d always confused them. And that it’s okay to sometimes leave the clothes on the floor if you’re rushing to get somewhere. Or that sometimes the clothes end up on the floor because you’re both… rushing. That it’s okay to have breakfast for dinner and that you can have dessert before the actual main course. He’d also taught you that facetime isn’t as good as being together but it’s enough to listen to each other’s voice. He had shown you that it’s okay to laugh at sex and that sometimes it’s not as romantic as it should be, that sometimes it is silly and other times it’s passionate. That it’s okay sometimes to say what you want to say before thinking.

And you’d shown him how to enjoy a bad movie, or how to tie his shoes this other way, and that though the night kept changing, and you both kept growing and learning, you were still the same. You taught him that it’s okay not to know the lyrics and still sing the song, and that if you add a pinch of salt to the cookies you’re baking it’d make it sweeter.

You’d taught him that Chinese legend. The red thread.

“It is like an invisible red cord or thread which connects you to that one person you’re destined to meet, your true love,” you had told him. “In China it’s around your ankle, I believe… In Japan, male’s thumb and the female's little fingers, and in Korea are both little fingers.”

He’d once, jokingly but not really wrapped around both of your pinkies a red thread.

“I made it visible, see?” He had said.

“You’re an idiot,” you had chuckled.

“What happens if you’re apart?” He had wondered.

“It’s supposed to bring you back together, it…”

“Can I pull it, if I ever need you?”

“I guess,” you chuckled. “I’m not sure.”

“Can it break?” He asked.

“I… don’t know,” you had confessed with fear.

Because you didn’t know. Maybe yours had been broken.

But you kept teaching him things, and he kept teaching you other things. You’d also taught him not to never mistake salt for sugar to add to your tea.

“They’re both a white powder I thought-”

“Yeah I can think of more white powders that would’ve also gotten us in trouble.”

You’d taught him that as long as you were his and he was yours, you’d shine as bright as stars. He’d shown you how to say ‘I love you’ to someone for the first time. Because you had, when you least had expected it, just about a weeks after you’d first dated.

You wanted to order something for dinner, that one night, he was on his laptop ordering food, you were cuddled against him reading who knows what.

“Is it weird I want more fortune cookies? Would you be weirded out if someone was asking for more fortune cookies?” He had asked.

You chuckled. “To get more fortune?”

“To get more cookies, darling,” he had grinned. “Can’t be more fortunate than this, I am dating you, ain’t I?”

“Very fortunate” you chuckled as he was ordering.

“How much food would I have to order for them to send us like ten cookies?” He asked, mostly to himself.

You laughed, “why don’t you bake them yourself?”

“We both know we suck at baking, baby,” he reminded you as he kept adding food to the cart. “Besides we wouldn’t get the fortune paper thing, I like those as book separators.”

He did use them as book separators and liked to randomly leave them on your nightstand

“Why do you want them? We could buy them next week at the supermarket

“They’re so good, darling and it’s not the same, they’re not fate then.”

You only smiled, watching him.

“Why don’t they sell like… the cookies?” He asked again.

“They do—“

“No, not but like at the restaurants because they choose which ones to give you, that is fate,” he continued. “Or like… Okay is this enough food so they think we are like ten people here? Like if I order enough food they’ll send it to us, right?” He kept rambling to himself. “Like okay, we’d have to eat this for a while but baby look at the bright side we’d have more cookies and that would make me happy because I like the cookies, plus I wouldn’t steal your notes to use as a book separator and we could have like enough fortune things to… I don’t know wrap presents with.”

And it had come out, so easily, “I love you,” you’d said without thinking about it, interrupting his rambling. You’d felt it for long enough, first time you’d ever kissed him but somehow you’d never said it.

And he had stopped worrying for the cookies suddenly, as he only looked at you, he hadn’t been prepared. He had only opened his mouth with surprise. He wasn’t as hungry anymore.

“I--” he hadn’t said it back.

“No, I’m sorry, no, no I’m sorry,” you gulped and sat up to get away. “No I didn’t--No, I don’t… I mean, no, yeah I do, I’m… Look you don’t have to… say it…I don’t love—No, I do, I do—“

He had smiled and took a deep breath, with surprise.

You walked away. “No, baby, sorry—Tom, I’m sorry you don’t have to say anything I’ll just—Yeah.”

You had tried to walk away but he had tackled you from behind, and turned you around to kiss you in his very way. “I love you, too.”

And the food had eventually arrived after kissing for god knows how long and you remembered opening that one fortune cookie.

“Love, because is the only true adventure.”

And it had been. The greatest adventure of your life, and it hadn’t been one of those crazy adventures. It had been small, but great. Good enough He’d forgotten one thing, he’d never shown you how to get over him. How to live without him.

And you had said it, how it would never be too late for him to come back. He wouldn’t, you know. But he knew it, you’d always have each other.

You had read about twin flames. How the compatibility and energy is so strong, so, so strong, so meant to be. An intense soul connection, sometimes called a "mirror soul," thought to be a person's other half. A same soul. And at times it did feel like it.

But it doesn’t have to be forever.

It should’ve been, though.

But Tom was easily scared, and maybe he’d felt like his life with you would be forever, and you didn’t blame him for being scared. Finding the love of your life doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll have to spend your whole life with them.

“I’m always going to love you,” he had said. You knew he wouldn’t.

But he’d never leave your heart or your mind, no matter what, day, noon, midnight. He was always there, but he had moved on. Or had he, really?

He hadn’t. But both of you had a very different version of the relationship. He had waited for you at that willow tree, you’d waited for him at that café. And it had been like that for a while, both of you waiting at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

He did miss you, very, very much and he also couldn’t get over you. You didn’t know, but even when he was dating this other girl he kept going back to you. He had kept his promise, he would always love you. With every cell, with every bone on his body. With his entire soul, because it felt like it was missing its other half.

He had stopped burning when he was apart from you. No light, no nothing.

Because everything led back to you, everything was about you. And he had bumped into you several more times, you hadn’t seen him, but he’d seen you walking in the rain, and he’d seen you when he stared at himself in the mirror. He saw you in every fortune cookie he ate, or in every book separator he found. He had felt incomplete when he wasn’t with you.

And after you’d broken up, Tom had felt incredibly numb and sad, your pain combined with his. He’d always wondered why that happened how he knew how you were feeling, a hunch he’d say.

He’d always have a song stuck in his head, and he’d be thinking of you at the most random times. He’d always expect to find your lipstick stain on his mugs

He always wanted to call, he never did though. But he was there, even if you didn’t notice. Like how he’d randomly send you a coffee with your friends, asking them not to tell you it came from him, or how if he ever walked by your place, he’d clean the dust from the mailbox because he knew how much you hated when it got dirty. How he had become friends with that guy from the Chinese place you liked to order from and he’d told him to always give you extra fortune cookies.

Tom wasn’t the same when he was apart from you, he hadn’t slept, he hadn’t smiled. But he did see one bright thing because it felt like he was being pulled back to you.

He regretted breaking up because he’d been too scared to admit you were on the other side of the string. He feared it could break. But he was also scared that he would become the person he was before you, and how you probably wouldn’t like who he was before that.

He also didn’t believe in soulmates, until you came. Because he thought And he thought your connection was too strong to be a simple soulmate. His soul and yours were one.

But he’d left because he had to learn the last lesson, the one lesson you couldn’t technically teach him, and that lesson could only be taught by missing you. And damn, did he miss you.

Because no one was you, no one knew his smile like you did and no one could read him like you. Your perfume still lingered and he missed your toothbrush in his bathroom. He missed having to get your hair out of his face when you were asleep. He missed the way you’d leave your books around his house or the way that he heard you sing the wrong lyrics. Tom missed the way you’d kiss his temple when you woke up earlier than him and how you always covered him with blankets. Tom missed looking into your eyes and making you laugh by making a stupid joke, knowing you’d be the only one laughing.

He missed having you around at parties, when all of his friends were talking about things he didn’t like and he looked for you to give you that one knowing look but you weren’t there. He missed you when he got drunk, he missed you when you he woke up, when he wanted to run to you and kiss your cheek from behind. When he wanted to watch a bad movie and laugh at it, he’d miss you all the time.

Tom was gone, yes. But Tom was gone because he wasn’t with you, and he couldn’t be himself again. How could he after you?

Was there life after love?

And eventually he’d seen you, always running into you but not letting you see him because he knew it would hurt you, it hurt him too. But how many times had his shoulder not bumped into yours without you noticing because your head was low. Or how many times had he not heard your laugh across the room and seen you. You were everywhere.

And he didn’t know why he couldn’t get the courage like that one first time when he’d first asked to sit with you, that one time when he’d first kissed you. No other pair of lips deserved to be kissed after he had kissed you.

And life was pulling him back to you but he didn’t know if you’d take him. He was scared that you had moved on, but something told him you couldn’t. He somehow knew that you still loved him because he loved you too.

So he’d sit there, under that willow tree waiting for you to come back. But he was always running out of time, always having elsewhere to be. Because no one ever has time.

You did, too, always rushing and that’s why you never saw him. Until today, with that mug in your hands, watching people, couples. Soulmates. And there you were, at that cafe, waiting for him to come, near that one park with the willow tree where you’d first kissed.

Wishing he would come.

But life is a strange thing, and maybe it had been the fact that the foam on your cappuccino had spoken to you, or the fact that you’d still kept that one fortune paper on the back of your phone, hidden underneath the case, or the fact that you had almost poured salt into your coffee instead of sugar, or maybe it had been that thread around your finger or maybe a coincidence by itself, but somehow you’d left that café that day, willing to go to that willow tree for the first time.

Because no one ever truly has time, but he had pulled the string.

tagging some other people who might like this: tag list @spidxrparkxr @mukesnugget @anxiousdesignerdancerbandlover @happywolves81 @happywolves81 @applenter @silver-winter-wolf @applenter @claredolphinbear24 @bookgirlunicorn @tomshufflepuff @avengersgirllorianna @nevertoofarfromivar @saintlavrents @herofiennestiffinashardinscott. @tomzfrog @dark-infernal-instruments @awkwardfangirl2014 @spideysimpossiblegirl @tomzfrog @xapham @awkwardfangirl2014 @xapham @tomhollandisagod @xapham @laurfangirl424 @vintageroses1014516 @cinnamon-roll-peter @the-lost-fairy-tale @the-lost-fairy-tale @lala-florez @lala-florez @ilcveyou3000 @xxtomxo @socorroann @muffinmari25 @cassindeansass @rogers-obsessed-barnes-curious @southsidespideyy @southsidespideyy @nathaliabakes @nathaliabakes @embrace-themagic @embrace-themagic @sanniegirl1214 @sanniegirl1214 @softholand @fairytaleparker @underooling @griff1ndor @griff1ndor @thatweirdomimic @avengersgirllorianna @reginalaufeyson-holmes @better-daisy @yeahimcrying @allmonstersxarehuman @spider-manholland @better-daisy @itstaskeen @georiaang @sebxstianbarnes @kissingtrutharchives @snoopy3000 @prettymessygurl @spideyparkerstark @fanfic-4-you @lexshead @officiallyunofficialperson @mannien @whitewolfandthefox @melodiclovesong @bizzlepotter @bizzlepotter @localfangirlx @acceptance07 @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @swaggyspiderman @localfangirlx @queengemsworld @liberty0123 @stiles-banshees @itsjusttor @stretchkingblog97 @annathesillyfriend @itsjusttor @tomshufflepuff @thewayilookatbacon @petersdiaries @emjaywrites @emjaywrites @thewayilookatbacon @jungeunave @emjaywrites @ispiderdudei @ispiderdudei @literalfsngirltrash @quacksonhq @it-is-rebel-owl-ma-dudes @desir-ae @desir-ae @desir-ae @peterporkpie @peterporkpie @smolpeachees @thenoddingbunny-blog @quackeroos @quackeroos @spideyyeet @astoldbydanid @astoldbydanid @hollandcreep @hollandcreep @astoldbydanid @hollandcreep @rebekkah4766 @farfromtommy @rubberducky-jrr @oh-whatabeautiful-parker @coveredinthemessimade @shameless-self-promo-of-a-shrub @sweetiesangster @thatdamjoke @annathesillyfriend @annathesillyfriend @witchythingscore @witchythingscore @bookworm06 @bookworm06 @lala-florez @lala-florez @chaoticpete @bookworm06 @peeterparkr @chaoticpete @shezzalocked @cosmichollands-blog @frenchfrostpudding @badbitchydecisions @w4ybefor3nir4na jj @saintlavrents @americaswritings @ilovepeterparker13 @lukesbabylon @lukesbabylon @iamaunicorn4704 @simple-things @simple-things @sip-portteam @herondale-snow-carstairs @tony-starks-ego @quaksonhehe0 @stargazerholland @marvelslut-musicalnerd @hotrubycrab @sovereignparker @peter-parker-tony-stank-trash @belleknows @mysticalinsomniac @nycparkers @nycparkers @anythingthaticareabout @spn-assemble-seven @tanyalooovesyou @somethingchaotic @heartofholland @peachybloomss @youcompletemesk @emyla3305 @emyla3305–butt @hollandstanevans @farfromtommy @farfromtommy @southbeachfeeling @eridanuswave @tonguetiedholland @wolvesofthewinter @quacksonobrien @dcnerd98 @ifntelyinspirit @electraheart-3174 @julialucena5 @itsmilamawson @harryssuckz @harryssuckz @xstarbae @xstarbae @xstarbae @peterbparkerrwrites @averyfosterthoughts @darethedragonknights @hannahholland1811 @justanamesstuff @emyla3305 @abbiefangirls247 @onewithnomightypowers @itscaminow @youllbmineandillbeyoursbabelove @hotrubycrab @spidey-holland-96 @awkwardnesshabitat @geminiparkers@primadonnasdream @slytherinambitious @maybecharming @where-art-thau-romeo @viagracex @viagracex @sspidermanss @pcterparxer @whatevshollandarchive @aleyabee @aleyabee @lovewolfspirit @viagracex @xallyouneedislovexx @panicattheeverywherekid @pcterparxer @thehauntingofmymind @redhoodparker @redhoodparker @cakepopcriss @allthisfortommy @aleyabee @perspectiveparker @let-me-luve-you @xxpeachyxo @m-a-r-i-n-t-p @superstarchick @notjustpenandpaper @morbiddanvers @runaway3 @runaway3 @runaway3 @lu-morningstar @th0ttie4tommy @riasaurusrex @riasaurusrex @frustratingpaperclip @readheadwriter @geesquariid @noxceleste @noxceleste @peterparker-rickybowen-mybabies @witchything @peterporkpie @bookworm06 @panicattheeverywherekid @imthefloor @ohmyquackson @seaveyheartful @wangtan-boys @obiwanownsmyass @sadisticfries @not-some-docile-teenager @galaxystern08 @lovemarvelousfics @tomzfrog @calsthomas @thearchersupremacy @nikitajackson @dayazenn @the-fandom-life-forever @just-kickin-ass @quaksonhehe @dummiesshort @samaratheweirdo @fr3akingphantrash @i-love-superhero @mandeeleebeebee @captainamirica @dramaticdiva @halparkebitch @uglypastels

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softholand · 3 years

Text

snowed in - t.h

pairing: tom holland x reader

summary: you and tom are neighbors but you don’t get along very well, what happens when you’re forced to spend christmas with him?

warnings: some curses

words: 3.3k

a/n: this is my gift to @uglypastels as part of @peeterparkr ‘s secret santa 🤍 Z, i’m sorry this took so long but as you can see, i got a little carried away with the story lmao anyway, you’re actually one of my favorite writers so i’m kinda nervous to post this but i really hope you like it!! merry christmas ✨

You hated snow, that was a fact. But, since it was Christmas you were willing to face it, for the sake of your sister, that was hosting her first Christmas dinner at her and her husband’s new house.

Before you faced the snow though, you had to wash some of your clothes since your laundry basket was full. So, taking your dirty clothes, you made your way to the laundry room, which thankfully, was empty.

You were putting the detergent in when your phone rang and of course, it was your sister, already asking where you were. Just as you were about to answer, you heard the sound of the door opening, before your neighbor, the one you didn't like very much, entered the laundry room.

As always, you tried your best to ignore him and answered your still ringing phone. “Hello?” You said, already listening to the sound of chatting on the other end of the call. “Yes, I’m coming, I just had to do something first.” You told your sister, closing the machine and pressing start. “No, Maya! I’m not bringing anyone, you already know that!” That phrase caught the attention of your neighbor, which made you roll your eyes, both at him and your sister.

“Okay, I’ll see you later, bye!” You ended the call, stuffing your phone back into your purse, before taking your keys off. Then, just as you turned to leave, Tom’s body came crashing right into yours, knocking you off your feet.

“I’m so sorry!” He said, quickly helping you get up. “Fuck! You don’t look at where you’re walking?!” You hissed, and he immediately stopped his movements. “I said I’m sorry! And if there’s someone to blame here, it’s you!” He retaliated, making you widen your eyes.

“I’m sorry, what?!!! You came crashing into me like a fucking truck and I’m the one to blame?!” You practically yelled, you just couldn’t believe this boy. “As if! You turned so fast that it gave me no other option!” He scoffed, making you even angrier.

“Okay, it’s Christmas and I don't want to stress myself right now so can you please help me find my keys so I can go?!” Taking a deep breath, you asked your not so friendly neighbor. “To finally get you out of here? With pleasure!” He mocked and you had to restrain yourself from slapping him.

You two looked everywhere and when you were starting to lose hope, your neighbor, whose name you recalled being Tom said, “I found them but you’re not gonna like it where it is!” Rushing to his side you saw what he was talking about. He indeed found your keys but they were inside the floor drain, with metal bars locking it pretty safely.

“No, no, no! I need those keys!” You whined, getting on your knees to try and get them out of there but it was a failed attempt. “Can you help me, please?!” You yelled, outraged Tom wasn’t doing anything. “What do you want me to do? There’s no way we’re getting them out of there.” He exclaimed. “I don’t know, get a stick or something. I’m gonna try to fish them out.”

After a couple of minutes trying to look for something, Tom came back with a toilet plunger. “Seriously?!” You asked, to which he rolled his eyes. “Do you want my help or not?” He questioned, crossing his arms, making them look even bigger than they already are, which it’s completely not to the point here.

Your attempt to rescue your keys was not successful, since all you ended up doing was pushing them further into the drain until you couldn’t see them anymore. “Fuck! No, no, no!” You cried, desperately trying to take them out. “Just accept it, they’re gone!” Tom stated.

“How am I supposed to get to my sister’s house now? And my house keys were there too!” You groaned, which made him laugh. “Stop laughing! That’s not funny!” You finally gave up and got out of the ground, standing beside him. “I’m sorry but it is kinda funny!” He continued to laugh and you couldn’t help but slapped his arm. “It’s all your fault!” You scolded.

“Not this again, it was your fault too!” Tom retorted, making you even angrier. “Fuck! What am I supposed to do now? I have to get to my sister’s.” You paced around the small room, feeling your anxiety starting to build up in your chest. “Okay, I’ll call an Uber, stay at her place tonight, and tomorrow I can call someone to take care of this, right?” You asked, mostly to yourself.

“I guess…?” Tom answered, to which you rolled your eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you!” With long strides and without saying another word, you made your way out of the laundry room. “You’re not going to thank me for my help?” Tom smirked, making you stop. “Of course, how could I forget to thank the person who caused all of this in the first place?” You mocked. “Oh, c’mon!” Tom insisted. “Goodbye, thanks for nothing!” You jeered, completely dismissing him.

Once you were out of the room, you thought your problems were gone but once you got to open the door, it didn’t move. You tried again, and again and again and again. Nothing. Snorting, you tried one last time before giving up and kicking the metal thing with your boot covered feet.

“Yeah, about that…” You jumped at the sudden sound of Tom’s voice. “Fuck! What do you want now?” You questioned, losing your patience. “It seems like we’re snowed in, it’s all over the news, apparently there’s another snowstorm coming and the roads are all blocked.” He informed you while leaning on his door frame with his arms crossed.

“You’re kidding me, right?!” You exclaimed, feeling your heartbeat speed up. “Nope!” He shrugged, making you panic.”No, no, no! You’re playing with me, I don’t believe you!” You practically yelled. “Well, see it for yourself!” Tom offered, mentioning for you to come inside his house, where he had the tv on.

You hesitated, after all, you had never set foot in any of your neighbor's houses, but eventually accepted his offer and went into his house. And of course, just like he said, the snowstorm was all over the news with big headlines saying: “All the roads are blocked, for your safety, stay home!”

You groaned loudly, putting both of your hands on your head, and just when you thought the moment couldn’t get any worse, your phone started ringing again. “Fuck! She’s going to kill me!” You took a deep breath, before finally answering your sister’s call.

“Hey, Maya! No, I’m not! I’m stuck here, the door won’t open because of the snow! Yeah, I know! No, there’s no one working today, Maya! And the roads are too dangerous to drive. I’m sorry, I promise I’ll make it to lunch tomorrow. I’m sorry, I love you! Bye!”

Ending the call, you realized you were still in Tom’s apartment, while he looked at you like you were some type of alien. “Just so you know, you ruined my sister’s first Christmas dinner at her new house.” You informed him, to which he scoffed, plopping himself on the sofa.

“For the last time, it was your fault!” He said, taking the remote control, looking for something to watch. You felt extremely uncomfortable so you made your way to the door, wanting to get out of this asshole’s house. “Well, it’s been a pleasure but I think I’m gonna head home now. Again, thank you for ruining my Christmas.” You grumbled, opening the door when you heard him clear his throat.

“What now?” You snapped, raising your voice. “You sure you’re not forgetting anything?” He inquired, leaving you confused, but all it took was a couple of seconds for you to realize something. Your house keys. They were gone. “Fuck! No, no, no! There’s no way I’m gonna find a locksmith on Christmas eve. What am I supposed to do?” You groaned, feeling frustrated.

“You could always… stay here?” Tom offered, making you laugh. “Funny! There’s no way I’m spending Christmas with you!” You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Well then, good luck staying outside or with another one of our neighbors. Oh, right! There’s no one else here, it’s just us.” He smirked, making your blood boil.

Here goes your Christmas.

Sitting in complete silence in Tom's living room, with him watching a golf championship, while his house looked everything but Christmassy, you regret ever complaining about your sister’s Christmas party. “Do you want anything?” He asked from his side of the sofa. “No! Thanks!” You stated, crossing your arms.

“Oh, c’mon! We’re stuck here until God knows how long, don’t you think we should start to, at least, get to know each other? I’ll start, my name is Tom!” He said, to which you, once again, rolled your eyes. “Oh, I know your name!” You exclaimed, annoyed with his sudden enthusiasm.

“Look at that!” He smirked and you quickly realized how that must’ve sounded for him. “Yeah, the girls you bring home aren’t exactly discreet, and believe me when I say that these walls are very thin.” You declared, watching his smirk only grow in size. “What can I say? I know how to pleasure women.” Tom bragged, making you want to throw up. “Please, I don’t wanna hear it!”

“I was joking! What about you though, I still don’t know your name and we’ve been neighbors for what? Two years now?” He asked, completely forgetting the tv, now focusing solely on you. “I don’t know, something like that. And my name’s y/n!” You said. “Cute! And what do you do?” He questioned.

“I’m a personal chef!” You acknowledge, Tom instantly raising his eyebrows. “Fancy…” He teased, making you chuckle. “There’s nothing fancy about being in front of a stove twelve hours a day, serving people who sometimes don’t even know what a reduction is.” You added and Tom raised his eyebrows even higher. “You also have no idea what a reduction is, right?” He shook his head, to which you scoffed. “What about you?”

“I work as a personal trainer!” He exclaimed, clearly excited with his position. “That explains a lot!” You whispered to yourself, thinking about the size of his arms, shoulder, back… “What?!” Tom smirked, having listened to your words. “Nothing! I didn’t say anything!” You stated, to which he laughed.

After a couple of minutes of complete silence, Tom cleared his throat, before asking, “So… bringing no one to your sister’s Christmas dinner?” You rolled your eyes. “Don’t even tell me about it, she’s been bothering me about it since her wedding.” You blurted, suddenly realizing your mistake. “And I don’t know why I just told you this because you’re practically a stranger and this was very personal information.” You commented, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“It’s alright, don’t worry!” Tom assured, making you smile. “Well, it seems like I’m doing all the questions here, do you wanna ask something?” You didn’t even think about it for too long. “Why’s your house not decorated? I noted that your door is the only one without a garland.” You asked, dying to know the answer since you stepped foot in his house.

“Oh, it’s just… I live alone and my family is not here so, I don’t know, it doesn’t bother me.” He shrugged and you felt your heart sink hearing him said that. “Not even a tree? I mean, c’mon… everyone loves a Christmas tree!” You stated, to which he chuckled. “I actually have one, I just haven’t put it up,” Tom mumbled.

“What?! Can we do it?” You exclaimed. “Do it, like… right now?” He questioned, confused with your sudden burst of energy. “Yeah, if I’m going to spend Christmas here, I want to at least feel festive.” You stated, getting excited. “I mean, yeah, sure! Go for it!” Tom nodded, getting off the couch to pick up the tree.

When he came back with a giant box, you got up to help. “Can I take my coat and boots off? They’re very uncomfortable!” You asked and Tom nodded. Once you had everything off, you guys started to adjust the tree branches one by one, until it was perfect to start decorating.

With a box of ornaments by your side, you started arranging them on the tree, while Tom disappeared in the kitchen, making you think he just didn’t want to help. But, once he came out of the room carrying two mugs of what you assumed was hot chocolate, you couldn’t help but smile.

“For me?” You teased, to which he chuckled. “Yeah, I mean, it looks like we’re going to be here for a while so I thought, we better have something to drink.” He resonated, watching you take a sip of the hot liquid. “It’s perfect, thanks, Tom!” You smiled and he reciprocated.

“You wanna watch something?” Tom asked after a couple of minutes of silence. “Well, since now we’re all in, a Christmas movie would be great!” You said. “Why was I sure you’ll say that?” He grunted, making you smile.

With Home Alone on the tv and mugs of hot chocolate in hands, you and Tom kept decorating the tree and it didn’t take much for it to start to look festive. Since the tree had the lights already in, all it took was Tom plugging the power on for it to lit up, showing all the ornaments you and him had put and making the house feel instantly more festive.

“It looks beautiful!” You beamed, while from the corner of your eye, you saw Tom looking at you. “Stop!” You protested, hearing him chuckle. “What?” He asked, feigning ignorance. “I can see you looking at me and not the tree.” You crossed your arms, finally taking a look at him. “Well, everyone looks at what they find the most beautiful, isn't that right?” He smirked and you swore you felt little butterflies on your stomach.

“You’re such a flirt!” You scoffed, deciding it was best to play it off rather than acknowledging what he said. “I told you I know how to pleasure women.” He blinked, to which you groaned, mimicking wanting to throw up.

“So… what now?” Tom asked, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “I don’t know, I’m kinda hungry though. What were you going to have for dinner?” You asked, and he instantly widened his eyes. “I… didn’t really think about that. I was probably going to order something.” He shrugged, making you roll your eyes.

“Well, that’s not possible anymore, so what do you have in mind?” You questioned, leaning beside him. “I mean… you’re the chef here…” Tom snickered, to which you scoffed. “You’re seriously going to make me work on Christmas?” He pouted and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Fine! What do you have in this house?” You sighed, making your way to the kitchen. “I think I have chicken, some potatoes, frozen peas, eggs, milk, and a couple of oranges,” Tom informed you while looking in the fridge. “Let me think… I can make mashed potatoes, sautéed peas, and roasted chicken with… orange sauce. What do you think?” You said, matter of factly.

“I think it’s way more than I could do in my entire life.” He exclaimed, making you laugh. “So… care to help?” You asked and he nodded, making his way to your side. “What can I do?”

You instructed Tom to peel, dice, and boil the potatoes, while you seasoned the chicken and put it in the oven. You two kept working side by side in the kitchen and the more time you spent together, the more you got comfortable around each other.

Tom put on some Christmas music, per your request, and even took your hand, making you dance to one of Mariah Carey’s songs until the smell of something burning hit your nostrils. Once everything was ready, you set the table, and you two finally seated down to eat the improvised Christmas dinner.

“So… what do you think?” Anxious, you asked Tom as soon as he put the fork in his mouth. “Don’t tell my mom I said that but this is the best meal I’ve ever had. Holy shit!” He exclaimed, making you smile. “C’mon, you’re exaggerating!” You tried to reason but he wasn’t having it. “I’m not! This is so good!”

“Well, thank you! I appreciated it! Cheers!” You raise your glass, which was currently filled with the wine Tom found in one of the cabinets. “Cheers!” He repeated, raising his glass.

Tom got a FaceTime call from his family In the middle of your dinner and after asking if he could take it, he answered the call. “Hi, baby! Merry Christmas!” You could hear a feminine voice saying. “Hi, mom, Merry Christmas!” Tom responded with a smile on his face.

“We’re just about to eat, what are you doing?” The same voice asked, to which he answered, “Oh, I’m eating… takeout.” Tom said, making you feign being offended by his words. “Oh honey, I wish you were here with us! We all miss you so much! Promise you’ll try to come next year, please?”

“Yes, mom! I promise!” Tom said, passing his fingers through his brown curly hair. “Okay, we’re gonna leave you now. We love you so much, Thomas! Merry Christmas!” The woman on the other side of the call said, making him blush. “I love you guys too! Merry Christmas, everyone! Bye!” Tom gave his phone a little wave, before ending the call.

“Sorry, she can be a little… persistent!” He apologized, to which you shrugged. “It’s alright, I don’t mind.” You assured him, taking a sip of wine. “But why didn’t you tell them about me?” You added, making him smirk.

“Trust me, if I told them I had a girl with me, they’d expect you to go home with me for the next Christmas,” Tom explained. “Is this an invitation?” You smirked, raising your eyebrows. “Only if you want to.” He winked, to which you rolled your eyes.

“You guys are not from here, right?” You asked. “What? The accent gave it away?” Tom inquired, making his british accent even stronger. “A little bit!” You answered and you both laughed. “We’re from England, I moved here about two years ago.” He told you. “Why? If you don’t mind me asking.” You said. “I had a pretty rough breakup back then and I don’t know, just wanted a new start.” He explained, seemingly saddened.

“I’m sorry!” You apologized but Tom was quick to dismiss. “It’s alright! What about you? Is your family from here?” He asked, to which you nodded. “Yeah, they’re all from here.” You answered, taking another sip.

After a couple of hours, you and Tom were finally finished with dinner and cleaning the kitchen. Now, you were both seated on the sofa, watching yet another Christmas movie. You had no idea how, but as time passed, you and Tom got closer and closer, until you were both cuddled up in the middle of the sofa, with both of your legs covered by a blanket.

You were close, your faces were almost touching and when you were about to close your eyes, Tom whispered, “Look up!” And you did, finding a mistletoe hanging loosely on top of you. “When did you do that?” You asked, failing to contain a smile. “I mean, since you’re all about Christmas traditions, I thought it was only fitting.” He smirked and you finally closed the gap between you two.

“You know, my Christmas wasn’t that bad after all.” You joked, to which he laughed, “Mine either!” He agreed, kissing you again. “Merry Christmas!” You smiled. “Merry Christmas!” Tom exclaimed, before going right back to your lips, where he stayed for the rest of the night.

tagging some of my mutuals ✨ @stuckonspidey @definitely-not-black-cat @missnxthingg @bi-writes @screamholland @peeterparkr @duskholland @wazzupmrstark @tomhollandthing @lauras-collection @tommybaholland @mrs-hollandstan @allyz @hazinhoodies @hollandcreep @worldoftom @whatevsholland @geminiparkers

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