#Sam Holland imagine

[mischievous-thunder]

[upindreamland]

Holland Siblings Group Chat - Holland Brothers

Summary: Texts I imagine you would get if you were a Holland!sibling

request: Hi! If you’re still taking requests could you do a text imagine that’s like all of the holland brothers x holland sister in a group chat? It could be about anything. Thanks!

AN: HEYYYYYY! Thank you for this request! I enjoyed making this one. Please enjoy! Also a new situation is separated by a line

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AN: that’s it I hope you enjoyed!!!

[ulyanatarot]

Tomdaya's relationship tarot update

Hi there 🖐️

For a pretty long time I've been interested in these two. And as a tarot reader sometimes I check their states as individuals and their relationships with tarot cards.

It has been quite a long time (several years) my cards show that their relationship is unstable and that they are heading for a breakup. I also know that many tarologists on this platform and on other platforms have a similar opinion. However, as the years go by, these two are still together.

To be honest, it really amazes me. In more than 5 years of practice as a tarologist, they are my only case that "didn't work".

So let's check them out now👌

⚠️Everything written in this post is just my guesses and created for entertainment purposes only.

How are things going in their relationship now?

2 of pentacles

As before, I feel that this relationship is very thoughtful on both sides. This does not mean that there is no love here. This means that apart from feelings, they both understand that this relationship is a kind of business. They are not lovers, they are partners.

Their relationship gives vibes of a long-married couple, where there is no passion, but they do not annoy each other, everyone gets something of their own from these relationships and everything is so comfortable that parting will only add more trouble than peace. And we also understand that this pair is very profitable for Hollywood, film studios, and companies. Sorry not sorry🤷🏻‍♀️

What does Tom think about this relationship?

Knight of wands

Tom seems to be focused on himself right now. It feels like after a long break from filming, he got a second wind. As far as I know, he recently had a presentation of non-alcoholic beer of his own production, and soon he will present his own golf equipment. Perhaps he has some other personal projects now, he is ready and wants to invest in his personal brand. Since this implies a relationship, he is ready to invest here too. But I feel that Zendaya is still attractive and important to him emotionally.

What does Zendaya think about this relationship?

The Magician

I pulled out some extra cards. It surprises me, but she seems to be internally disappointed in this relationship. It's like she's been trying to figure out how she feels about Tom for a long time, and now she's tired of her feelings for him and this relationship. For her now, it's more of a successful business project than love. In my opinion, she is quite satisfied with this. As The Magician, she continues to build connections with Tom, his family and friends, with various companies and businessmen, she continues to "sell" these relationships to the world, for her there is a personal benefit in this. She does it for herself and that's all. It's a little unfair to herself, she seems ready to break up, but pulls this relationship further, however, she does not forget to take care of herself and earn not only money, but also authority.

What is the prospect of this relationship for the next 3 months?

Judgment

I pulled out some extra cards. All cards have strong energy. I assume that there may be some "serious" shifts in their relationship. Maybe Tom will propose to Zendaya (I know the fans have been waiting for this for a long time). Or vice versa, they will end the relationship. I cannot say that this is 100% true, I remind you that my readings of their couple are not usually "work". However, some important events for their couple will definitely happen! But what I see for sure is that in the next 3 months their couple will definitely be heard, there will be a lot of publications and articles.

Maybe they will celebrate the anniversary of the relationship soon, I do not know when they started dating. Maybe they will announce some kind of joint project. But this is clearly something serious and perhaps even karmic, something written into their destinies.

That's all folks ❤

Please like and comment if you're interested in more readings🙏

[emmy2026]

Finally

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Word count: 0.9k

Summary: after years of struggling with infertility, you find out you’re pregnant

Triggers: talk of vomit, I think that’s it, if you find any more let me know

—

You were staying at Toms parents house for a few days, Tom was out with his brothers playing golf. So, it was just you, Nikki, and Dom.

You had woke up feeling sick and ended up throwing up a couple times. You had to convince Tom to even leave. After Nikki promising Tom that she would take care of you, Tom had left and promised to be back in a few hours. After beginning to feel better, you and Nikki were making some lunch when Nikki spoke.

“Have you taken a pregnancy test in the past few weeks?” she asked. You stopped cutting the carrots and looked over at her.

“No, why?” you asked, and went back to chopping the vegetables.

“You were sick this morning, and when I was making dinner last night, you said that the mac and cheese was making you sick. You normally love mac and cheese.” You had been feeling different the past few days, but you didn’t want to think it was anything.

“I don’t know.” you whispered loud enough for Nikki to hear. She stopped what she was doing at looked at you.

“You don’t know what?” she asked. You set the knife down and looked back at her.

“I don't know if I can take another one, I mean it’s been almost 2 years since we started trying and every time I see one line,” you felt a lump in your throat, and Nikki pulled me you a hug. “I don’t know if I can do it again.”

“Oh, honey. I’m not going to force you to take one, but I think you should. And if you want me to, I can be there.” we pulled out of the hug and you nodded.

“I’ll run to the store and buy a few after lunch.”

***

You were nervous, you had just taken the test and were pacing up and down the hallway. Nikki was sitting on the edge of the bathroom tub and was surprisingly calm. You had to wait 5 minutes to look at the test and get the results. You had heard that moving the test to much could throw off the result so you placed it flat on the counter and put the box over the screen.

Your hands kept finding their way down to your stomach, something felt different this time. You couldn’t explain it.

A few moments later, the door to Dom’s office opened and he stepped out. His face was bunched up in confusion. He looked into the bathroom and was consumed with more confusion.

“Is everything okay?” he asked. You nodded your head kept biting your fingernails. Dom looked back at his wife, knowing he wasn’t going to get anything from you. He looked over at the counter and saw the boxes of pregnancy tests and his face softened. Suddenly, the timer went off on your phone and you walked back into the bathroom. Now Nikki and Dom were both sitting on the edge of the bathtub while you moved the box off the test and picked it up. Once you saw, the air left your lungs, your eyes filled with tears. You had decided to get a digital test, one the says pregnant or not pregnant.

PREGNANT

Nikki got off the tub and grabbed the test from your hands. She gasped and smiled at you, you felt a tear run down your face, so overcome with emotions. You were pulled into a hug by Nikki and you sobbed into her shoulder. It was finally happened, you’re pregnant, you and Tom are going to have a baby. Nikki and Dom gave you their congratulations and you couldn’t stop smiling. The only left was to tell Tom, you knew you couldn’t keep this from him.

“How are you going to tell Tom?” Dom asked.

“I don’t know.” Your fingers went down to play with your wedding ring.

The front door downstairs opened and you heard the laughter of your husband and his brothers. It warmed your heart to see them all together. You took the test and put it into the pocket of your jeans. Dom and Nikki left the bathroom to let you clean yourself up a little bit, since there were tear tracks down your face.

Once you looked better, you made your way downstairs and joined everyone in the kitchen. Tom looked at you and got up from where he was seated at the island. His hands were placed on your face and he looked concerned.

“You alright, love?” he asked. You nodded and smiled at him.

“Yeah, why do you ask?”

“You weren’t feeling good this morning, and you look like you were crying.”

“I’m okay, promise. I, uh, I actually have a surprise for you.” Tom took his hands off your face and you pulled the test out of your pocket. You handed it to him and his eyes widened.

“Are you?” he asked, you nodded and a smile appeared on his face. He pulled you into a hug and spun you around slightly. He set you down and kept hugging you. He placed a kiss on your forehead.

[positivelyholland]

The Fight For Our Lives

pairing: tom holland x sister!reader

genre: fluff 

warnings: so much talk of taylor swift, bad writing

summary: i don't wanna ruin the plot twist but just read it please 

A/N no one asked for this and I have a million requests in my inbox that i'm working on so just enjoy this short little thing while i work on everything else

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Everyone was so close to a mental breakdown, especially you. And at this point, you felt the need to go back in time and warn your past self. Tell her it's a terrible idea and she definitely shouldn't do it. If you could, you would've never put yourself in this situation in the first place. 

You needed to rewind time and tell Y/N from 45 minutes ago that this was going to end in disaster. 

And Tom felt the exact same way.

If only he wouldn't have accepted the job from his parents to do this. If only he would've thought thing through, then he wouldn't currently be on the verge of committing a crime. 

It was the moment that everyone had been dreading for 15 years. The task that everyone pushed off as a future problem, but now was the moment they had to face their biggest fear....

Teaching Y/N Holland how to drive. 

Tom had been stupid enough to accept the job that his parents offered him, and now he knows exactly why his parents didn't want to do it themselves. 

"Tom, I have a really important chore for you" Nicki started. 

"Ok...." tom responded, putting his phone down.

"Someone needs to teach y/n how to drive, and god knows you're the only one with enough patience to do so"

"ok i'll do it! how hard can it be?" tom laughed at his moms dramatics. 

Oh how naive he was to think that his mom was exaggerating how bad this was going to be, for both Tom and you. 

It had started off pretty smoothly, with only one curb getting hit and almost running over a couple of pedestrians. Although Tom wasn't too worried during those moments, he soon began to fear for his life and sanity. 

You got distracted because of the fact that you listening to Taylor Swift while you drove, so Tom tried to turn off the music after you almost ran a red light because of this. However, you were not pleased with your eldest brother disrupting your jamming session, so you instantly became very irritated. 

You tried to turn it back on, as you insisted that it helped you drive better, but due to the fact that any other person on this earth would disagree with your statement, Tom immediately slapped your hand away from the button that turns your music back on. 

"DONT TOUCH ME I'M LISTENING TO TAYLOR SWIFT" you practically screamed at him. 

"WELL I'M SORRY THAT I WANT TO SURVIVE THIS DRIVE" Tom said, matching your volume. 

"BUT WILDEST DREAMS (taylor's version) HELPS ME KEEP US ALIVE" you said, to which Tom rolled his eyes. 

"you literally missed 3 turns in a row because you were rambling about how good the bridge of this song would mix with 13 of her other songs" Tom started to calm down, but unfortunately for him, you had a point to make. 

"YOU'RE JUST BEING A HATER, AND I'M JUST GONNA SHAKE IT OFF BECAUSE I CAN DRIVE" you were so proud of that comeback that your little smirk accidentally showed through, which angered  your brother even more. 

"Y/N EYES ON THE ROAD" he was overreacting at this point. Everyone knows you can defend Taylor Swift and drive at the same time. You can practically do anything while fulfilling your swiftie duties. 

"I. NEED. TAYLOR. SWIFT." you weren't giving up on this anytime soon, so Tom decided to just let you win this argument. 

That doesn't mean he wasn't scared for his life though.

[tomholland1996simp]

could you make a tom holland x sister reader when her brothers walk in on there sister having sex (age 16-17?)

Caught in the act || Holland sister

Summary: The reader and her boyfriend are having sex and get caught by her brothers.

I don’t like this, I haven’t even read it over….

Y/N had invited her boyfriend over to chill at her house. She knew that her brothers would be home, however they were just going to stay in her room anyways. The holland brothers didn’t know about their relationship, they believed that they were both best friends, like they have been for three years now. Y/n had been dating Jordan for over six months now, they nearly had been caught many times by her family. His family knew they were both together, y/n wasn’t sure why she didn’t tell hers.

Now he had finally arrived, y/n greeting him by the door. “J!” y/n wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, his arms going around her waist.

“Hey b-y/n/n” He spoke, seeing Tom in the kitchen, pulling away and remembering to act like y/n and him were best friends. Y/N closes the door behind him whilst he took his shoes off and hanged his jacket up on the pegs.

Tom looked in his direction seeing his sister and her very close best friend. Tom didn’t mind him, he just knew there must’ve been something going on. Y/N and Jordon were way to close to be best friends, he’s even seen paparazzi pictures of them both out and about. None of it proving they was dating but he knew his sister really liked him.

“Hey Tom” Jordan smiled walking through the kitchen with y/n. He knew the brothers a little bit, due to him coming around a lot. Nikki always counted him as part of the family.

“Hey, Jordan. How you been?” Tom asked, them both starting up a little conversation, it eventually ending when y/n motioned for Jordan to come up the stairs to her room. “I’ll catch you up later mate” Tom spoke realising the time, him and the brothers planned to go to the pub whilst their parents were away.

“Y/n i’m going pub with the others, i’ll be back late at night. Love you!” Tom shouted as she stood on the stairs waiting. “Okay, love you too” Y/n smiled as he walked over to the door. She quickly grabbed Jordan’s arm, hearing the front door close, bringing him to her room and shut the door.

“In such a rush to get me into your room” Jordan smirked jokingly, earning a smack in the arm from y/n. “Missed you, Angel” He pulled y/n close to him placing a sweet kiss on her lips. She hummed in satisfaction when she felt his lips on hers.

“Miss you too” She said once there lips pulled apart. “wanna watch a movie?”

__________________

Tom had to drive everyone back home that night, him not drinking anything so the rest could have fun. He did have a few drinks but not enough for it not to be safe to drive. He dropped Tuwaine off, driving him, Harrison and his brothers back home. It was 2 in the morning once he had arrived home, parking the car in the driveway. He shushed his brothers, knowing you would be fast asleep by now, probably from boredom.

“Carful!” He snapped at Harrison and Harry who were clumsily taking their shoes off, nearly making him fall over in the process of taking his own off. They both just laughed, too pissed out of there mind needing sleep. “Y/n is asleep you need to be quiet” He told them, Sam joining in the laugh a little.

The boys slowly swayed up the stairs, it being pitch black around the house. All Tom had to do was get Harrison to the guest room and his other brothers to theirs. Harrison on the other hand, had other ideas. Tom heard the noises first, but thought nothing off them.

That was until he heard, “Fuck, Jordan” come from a door. Y/N’s door. That’s where he had heard the noise, he now could clearly hear the small moans and the bed creaking.

Harrison cheekily smirked, hearing the noise from the act in y/n’s room. He quickly barged into the room with the other drunk boys, y/n and Jordan stopping there actions and lifting the covers up more. Y/N was embarrassed but shocked. Now stood there drunk boys, Tom storming into the room as well. But he was sober.

Your eyes widen at the sight of him, “Ooo y/n and Jordan got caught in the act” Harrison teases pissing you both off, making Tom more fuming.

“Wait, wait, your dating?” Harry laughed a little.

This was very awkward for y/n, her boyfriend was literally on top of her, still inside her whilst her brothers and her brothers best friend kept talking. Of course the covers hid both your bodies, it still being really weird.

Sam was next to speak, “Are you still inside of my sister?” He asked a bit mad, clearly he had sobered up a bit. Jordan didn’t know what to say, he just slowly pulled out, luckily the brothers didn’t notice. Jordan rolled off y/n, them both still holding the covers to their chests.

“Can you get out!” Y/N finally shouted, sitting up a little. “Y/N! Your fucking sixteen and your having sex! How long has this been going on for?” Tom yelled at the both of them.

“I’m nearly seventeen-“ Y/n tried to defend yourself, it not leading anywhere. “How fucking long y/n y/m/n Holland!” Now y/n knew Tom was mad, she was in deep shit. He never ever called her by her full name, only when he was proper pissed.

“6months” Y/n tried watch his facial expression to determine how mad he possibly would be.

“YOU’VE BEEN HAVING SEX FOR SIX MONTHS!” Sam shouted.

“No!” You immediately shout.

“Yesss you go girl” Harrison slurred, making y/n and Jordan hold back a laugh. Sam slapped the back of his head, Tom pushing the boys out of her room. “Tom your sister was getting banged for six months” Harrison giggled like a little girl, only wanting to piss Tom off, he didn’t hear your reply after though.

“Get changed, i’ll be back in a minute” Tom stormed out of the room slamming the door. Y/N felt guilty, a bit annoyed at herself, she didn’t really understand why he was so angry though. It’s her life. She’s nearly seventeen and even if she is young he must’ve done it at her age, no?

Y/N and Jordan got changed, Y/N throwing her pjs on and Jordan wearing grey joggers with a white shirt. They waited patiently for Tom to shout at them. The knock making y/n’s heart stop, “Are you decent?” His voice was a lot softer now, he didn’t shout or seem that mad.

“Yeah”

Tom walked in, deciding to stand up than sit on y/n’s bed. He couldn’t get the disgusting thought out of his head, his sister having sex. His baby sister, his only sister. The truth is he was mad a little, however it was mostly because he didn’t like y/n growing up. He remembers the days when he used to catch her sneaking chocolate into her mouth or finding her embarrassingly dancing in her room. Now he catches her having sex with a guy he thought was a very close friend.

“I-I’m sorry Tommy. I promise it hasn’t been going on for six months, w-we’ve——uhh—We’ve been dating for six months” Y/N admits, now the truth was finally out. She felt much better getting it off her chest.

Tom then looked over at Jordan, he really hopes he can trust him. Y/N deserves the world, he wanted her to find an amazing boy. Obviously he didn’t want her to date till 20, he always said that. “We’ve only had sex a couple of times” He said, y/n quickly slapping his chest then hiding her face in embarrassment. Great, she just wanted her brother to know about her sex life.

“Thanks?” Tom asked more like a question, shaking the thought out his brain. “I’m not mad y/n, it’s just I hate seeing you grow up. Yeah it’s not nice walking in on my sister having sex to a guy I thought was her best friend, but you was gonna do it eventually, I mean right? It’s just your young, you got to be carful.” He crouched down to her level, looking at the girl in the face. She has changed a lot, she getting older. He just needs fo accept that.

“You are using protection right?” He asked.

“Mmm not all the time, you see our hands gets to sweaty-“ Y/N tries to joke, looking at the serious look on her brothers face.

“Right, too soon for jokes” She rubs the back of her neck. “Yes. Yes we are. Now can we stop talking about this it’s weird” Y/N smiles at Tom who returns it back.

“I mean now that Jordan is confirmed as your boyfriend, he must want to see the baby album” Tom smirked.

“No, No!”

hate this. happy new year!

[leoleolovesdc]

Fuck it.

*Gets extremely emotional over a dumb romcom*

Okay, so let’s talk Senior Year and why I fucking hate Martha and Seth;

Yk what, Martha was being such an asshole during her fight w Steph. It’s so fucking stupid to act like she owns you maturity and responsibility when she is 17. Like, yeah, she has the body of a 37yo woman but mentally she is seven-fucking-teen. And also all that stupid ass talk abt “you had me, you had Seth”, no tf she didn’t?? Why would she even want to hang out with them? They are adults, they have their own lives, jobs, concerns and as far as Steph remembers she is just a kid, it’s obvious that she’d rather hang out w teens at a house party than keep on being besties with people twenty years older than her, besides, her relationship with Seth is REALLY icky. How tf does this man who’s pushing forty think it’s okay to date his friend who hasn’t aged mentally since they were seniors? He doesn’t have the right to get mad at her for “teenage-tricking him” when he himself is taking advantage of a woman who clearly does not have life experience of maturity to be with an adult (despite physically being one herself).

Everything that Steph says to defend herself during the fight is completely justifiable. And also, the police shouldn’t even consider this as an adult woman giving alcohol to teens when she literally has a medical bill saying “this woman is mentally a teenager and lost the last 20 years of her life”, like even legally she should barely count as an adult.

Everyone who gets mad at Steph throughout the movie tells her some variation of “you have to grow up” but how do you want her to even do that? She was in a coma for twenty years for fuck’s sake, maturity obviously won’t js pop up in her brain bc she suddenly woke up at 37.

And the way that the fight turns into “you pushed me away in highschool to b popular🥺” is SO ridiculous. Martha is telling Steph to grow up and yet she can’t get over the fact that her friend made a dick move twenty years ago. Get the fuck over yourself, woman.

The “making mistakes is different than willfully screwing over the ppl who care abt you” line is also so bad, Steph didn’t do anything to screw over anyone, she made two dumb decisions (one of which VERY dumb one, for that matter (and the other was 20 years ago, as mentioned)) but she IS NOT at the same level of maturity as her old friends and they shouldn’t expect her to.

The only people who treated Steph right through the whole movie were her father, who (despite letting her go out with Seth) still treated and cared for her like the teenager she truly is, and her high shool friends who never questioned treating her as one of them.

Conclusion: Steph should have dumped Seth’s creepy advantage taking ass and Martha’s fuck ass exigency for maturity (even when she doesn’t have any herself💀) and stayed with Janet and Yaz, they were real ones.

[mixed-imagination]

poc gifs part 3

part 1 | part 2

okaaaaay here’s part 3 of my poc gifs! these are some of my fav so far :) 

requests for a gif are very welcome! ♡

more to come... ;)

what do you desire?

♡ deep talks with sam wilson/anthony mackie ♡

or how about

♡ flirty debates with your rival, peter parker/tom holland? ♡

and maybe some

♡ stolen glances from cap/ransom drysdale ♡

making these gifs and captions are so fun ♡ i feel like the creator of an otome game hehe

if you want to use my gifs in your fics, please tag me! i’d love to read any creations based on my poc gifs ♡♡♡

[demonic0angel]

Bird Sam, Turtle Tucker, Chameleon Paulina and Greyhound Dash in Pet AU?

I changed up a lot of the animals bc I don’t agree, but here are they are!

Dash is a cane corso, Paulina is a pink cockatoo, Tucker is a spiny soft shelled turtle, and Sam is a Holland lop.

I imagine that only certain Batkids can handle them bc they’re picky (like only the girls can hold Paulina, or Damian being the only one able to handle Tucker, etc).

[destinyc1020]

Poor Tom Hollander talking about how they accidently sent him the wrong email with an Avengers bonus check amount listed, instead of Tom HOLLAND who was actually in the Avengers. 🤭😅😂

All I'm thinking is: 7 FIGURES for just a bonus for his FIRST box office check bonus, and he wasn't even in the film for that long??

Chiiiiilllle.... Tom, you are RICH RICH rofl 🤣 😆 💰 🤑

Even with paying uncle Sam and having to pay your team, 7 FIGURES just for a bonus!??

Chiiiiilllle!!! Lawwwd I can't even imagine that amount of money rofl 🤣 😂

Tom over here counting his Marvel checks like....🤭

"Money money money money.... money!!"

Idk why fans worry so much about Tom tbh lol. He's doing JUST FINE LOL 😆

[drivinmeinsane]

»{ Holland March x Merman!Jackson Healy }« ※ { ao3 }

next chapter -»

※ Summary: Struggling, he can’t seem to reach the surface no matter how hard he paddles upwards. He’s going to die down here if he can’t cover any distance. He’d failed to take in any air when he went over on account of knocking himself senseless. Making a mistake, Holland looks down and sees the darting shadow of a pointed dorsal fin. Shark. There’s a fucking shark in the water with him. ※ Rating: 18+ for explicit mature content. ※ Content/tags: Alternate Universe, Merman Jackson Healy, Canon-Typical Crack Taken Seriously, Frottage, Excessive Cum, Anal Sex, Cum Eating, Teratophilia, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Smoking ※ Word count: 6,739 ※ Status: Multi-chapter (1/2) :: Complete ※ Author's note: Happy Mermay! 🦈

“But mermaids aren’t real,” Holland protests with a wild gesture of his arms.

In all honesty, the private investigator wishes he were sitting down for this consultation. It’s turning out to be one hell of a doozy. Unfortunately for him, his prospective client hadn’t offered him a seat. Holland feels a prickle of resentment.

“Aye, but this one is. Got m’self a real fish man out in those waters and I aim to catch the bastard for what he did.”

When the call had come to the March residence, Holland hadn’t thought much of it. He doesn’t always get the most… reasonable individuals seeking his services. Still, after driving himself all the way to this man’s house after dropping Holly off at school this morning, he hadn’t expected to be asked to track down a myth.

It’s all complete bullshit in his opinion. This man—Sam… something—must be out of his mind. Holland, of course, is a professional and has taken on more asinine and pointless jobs than this. Money is money and it makes the world go ‘round. Or so they say. Anyway, he has a house to rebuild.

Humoring the older man, he says, “Tell me again what you’re wanting me to do about your mermaid. You’re the fisherman.”

“You want a drink?” Sam calls over his shoulder instead of answering him. Already, he’s going for a cloudy looking jug on a clearly handmade shelf alongside a stack of dented metal cups. “I distill it m’self.”

Never one to turn down alcohol, Holland doesn’t protest. “Why not, but about your mer—”

He’s cut off by the grizzled man shoving a full cup of liquid into his chest, forcing Holland to take it. He narrowly avoids dropping it when Sam takes his free hand in between his.

“Got the hands of a city boy,” he comments. He doesn’t sound put out by this, especially not with the way he rubs a calloused thumb over March’s smooth knuckles.

Feeling himself color with a flush, he takes a swig of the beverage he’s been given. It burns like fire going down. He should probably stay away from open flames after he finishes it. He’s liable to be a victim of spontaneous human combustion if he doesn’t. The alcohol itself tastes little better than he’d imagine nail varnish remover from the 50-Cent store does.

Sam gives his hand a tight enough squeeze that he has to suppress a yelp as his bones are pinched together. Thankfully, he’s released almost immediately. If Holland is a little honest with himself, which he is never is, he might be likely to admit that he finds the other man attractive in some kind of rugged, outdoorsy way. Who’d have thought he would like scruffy men who could snap him like a stick if pushed? He tacks that information onto the ever growing list of his failings.

“About the fish. I just want you to keep an eye out for him. See where he hangs out, yeah? You don’t have to do anything more than spotting him and letting me know where he is.”

“You said he tried to kill you,” Holland says, uncomfortably taking another drink and casting a critical eye at their surroundings.

The investigator has been in some strange homes over the years, but this one very well might be in the top three. While it’s clearly the abode of a bachelor, lifelong if Holland had to guess, there are some things that would give anyone pause. Sam has stacks of Campbell’s tomato soup towering on various shelves. That alone wouldn’t be too terribly strange if it weren’t for the shark mandibles hung up all round his home and the too many copies of Moby Dick stored away on a warped and leaning bookshelf. The cherry on top of the sundae is an oversized pot of water clearly filled with more shark jaws that is boiling merrily away on the stove. Sam’s home must smell like fish and Holland has never been so grateful that his sense of smell got knocked right out of his head along with any additional cognitive abilities that would have benefited him.

“I said he stole m’net and pulled me off the boat then tried to drown me. He’s a big ol’ fucker but if you aren’t fishin’, I don’t think he’ll mess with you none,” the fisherman explains patiently. He’s grinning.

Holland thinks on his words in addition to what he’d been told earlier. Three hundred dollars and all he does is have to dick around on the boardwalks up and down a very small bit of the coast. Maybe he’ll have to take off his loafers and put his toes in the sand. All that for up to a week if he doesn't find Sam’s fish man before than. It’s not a bad job, not at all. At the very least, it offers him the privacy to drink without Holly’s knowledge.

He can’t stand to be home right now. Even though it’s a different house—just a rental and meant to be a temporary thing—part of him still expects to go around the corner and see his wife. Holland knows he’s being selfish by planning working with the anniversary of her death tomorrow, but he needs tonight to grieve and then he can scrape together the fragments of himself to be a… well, not a good dad, but maybe not a complete fuck-up of one tomorrow for his daughter.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” he agrees.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Before Holland heads out to drag himself up and down the beach, he makes the drive back to the rental. Sam had advised him that the mermaid they’re seeking won’t be out until after the sun sets. Something about being shy, or having the behavior patterns of a shark. March doesn’t care. He’s just relieved he won’t have to slather himself in sunscreen and rub elbows with tourists under the sizzling rays of the sun. It’s not summer, the days are too short for that, but it’s never truly cold in California.

With Holly being away at school, it’s lonely at the rental. Holland drifts through the rooms like he’s a ghost himself, putting together what he needs for tonight. His supplies consists of a wrinkled map, a refilled flask, a pack of cigarettes, and his lighter. All the items get left on the coffee table next to his keys to shove into his pockets when he goes to leave for the majority of the night.

Holland makes the effort to be a responsible father, or his version of one anyway, by writing a note for his daughter to find when she gets home. It reads: Working case tonight. Won’t be home until late. Pizza money under the lamp. OK for Jessica to visit. Love you Kiddo.

He tapes it to her door at her eye level. She won’t be able to miss it.

Laying down on the couch, he tries to get comfortable enough to get a few hours of sleep. He turns on the TV to feel less lonely. It’s going to be a long night and this way, he is spared the restless stretch of time spent in bed wishing there was another body tucked underneath the covers beside his own.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Darkness begins to swallow the world with the setting of the sun. Visibility becomes murkier as the lights of the city fade away the further he gets from the heart of it. At least the moon looks like a sizable one tonight. He won’t be going into the dark totally blind even if he did forget to grab a flashlight. Holland isn’t even entirely sure the March family owns one these days.

He pulls off of the street and into a deserted parking lot. The Benz coasts to a stop, tires crunching over sand as it does. March puts the vehicle into park and makes sure to crank the parking break before removing the key from the ignition. One of the last things he needs is for the car to somehow roll down the embankment in front of it and get stuck nose-down in the beach’s sand. He doesn’t bother to close the top as he gets out and heads towards a flight of stairs leading down to the boardwalk that perches on the shore like some Lovecraftian monster.

While he’s descending the stairs, the PI tucks a cigarette between his lips and lights it. The rush of nicotine into his lungs is a familiar comfort. It makes the journey downward feel shorter.

This part of the coast is devoid of after-hour entertainment. There is no Ferris wheel, no stands selling popcorn and cotton candy. No pier-side carnival with young hopefuls or drugged out daredevils. It’s peaceful, almost too much so. If he’s frank, Holland thinks it’s creepy as all hell. Anyone could be lurking out here in the sands. Their footsteps on the wood boards would be covered up the steady roar of the waves. His skin crawls and he fights down a reflexive shriek at the thought of an imaginary boogeyman.

Overcome, he whips around to survey his surroundings with the desperation of the pursued. There’s nothing out here that he can see. Water laps against the pier supports. His panicked breathing finally slows. The cigarette he’s smoking burns down right to the filter as he looks out over the waves for any sign of a shark or a fish man. He plucks the spent stick from his mouth and grinds it between his fingers before flicking it out into unknowable depths.

He pulls his flask from his shirt pocket and takes a swig before tucking it away and continuing on. The investigator’s shoes are squelching over the sodden wood. He tries to keep the money he’s been offered in mind as he thinks about the damage the salt water might be doing to the leather.

Between the lulls in between waves, March hears a knocking sound. There’s a pier jutting off the boardwalk. Curiosity leads him into diverting his path. There’s a small boat tied to one of the mooring points. As he gets closer, his suspicion that it’s only the boat knocking against one of the wooden supports grows. Holland chalks himself up to just being jumpy from being out here alone with ideas of aquatic monsters swimming around in his head.

It’s not nothing. He looks down in the dark water and the rising moon illuminates a dead body knocking against the side of the boat. Holland screams and goes failing backwards, arms pinwheeling at his sides. He slips and hits the boards hard enough to knock the wind out of him. He whines getting to his feet only to slip again and hit his head on one of the mooring posts.

He renders himself unconscious and rolls into the ocean. The shock of the water makes him come to and he opens his eyes underneath the water. The salt stings his throat more than Sam’s shitty homemade alcohol had.

Struggling, he can’t seem to reach the surface no matter how hard he paddles upwards. He’s going to die down here if he can’t cover any distance. He’d failed to take in any air when he went over on account of knocking himself senseless. Making a mistake, Holland looks down and sees the darting shadow of a pointed dorsal fin. Shark. There’s a fucking shark in the water with him.

March redoubles his efforts but it’s useless. He’s not going to make it. Even under normal circumstances, he barely is able to swim.

Oh Jesus, he thinks, Who’s going to take care of Holly? Widow Wanda on the corner is going to have to look after her and her house always smells like cat piss. I’m such a terrible father.

In a rasp of skin gliding across cloth, the shark brushes against him. Holland forgets himself and screams. Water rushes into his lungs and he faints. His last conscious awareness is of human hands grabbing him around the waist and the sensation of behind towed through the ocean by a large animal in the way an orca might drag a seal.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Holland’s world explodes in stars. Pain shoots across his face in the wake of the slap he’s dealt. It’s a hell of a way to be brought back to the world of the living. His head is pounding an a way that provides a rhythm for the way his teeth feel like they’re doing the tango in his mouth. What the hell had happened to him?

Another slap goads him into putting his arms up defensively. “I’m awake! Jesus!”

Opening his eyes, he only sees darkness at first. Then his vision clears and he can make out the shape of a large, scruffy man looming over him. Unable to help himself, Holland screams. The shrill noise bounces off the surrounding rocks.

“Shut up,” the stranger tells him, not unkindly.

There’s no way to easily escape. He has been propped up against a boulder and his way is blocked by the man. He squints, looking closer at him. For a moment, he’s shocked into stunned silence at what he’s looking at. Holland tries to be logical. He is going to be normal and reasonable about this because he is a professional. March will not be the certified freak of the beach tonight.

“Nice costume,” he says, aiming for chipper.

“It’s not.”

“Not what?” Holland asks, feeling slightly strained.

“A costume.”

Silence falls between them while he tries to process that. Okay then, his savior really is off his rocker.

The private investigator chooses to act like he’d been told a joke and he laughs. “Don’t fuck with me, man. I’ve had a bad night. There’s a dead body in the water and you’re out here getting off on seeing Jaws too many fucking times. Well, listen here. I’m pissed at being the victim of your little shark prank and you need to cut that shit out.”

As fast as he can manage, he lunges towards the mystery man and tries to pull his costume tail off. It’s disturbingly realistic—smooth one in one direction and rough like sandpaper in the other. He gets a solid punch to the face for his efforts. It’s like being hit with a whole fucking ham on Black Friday. Holland goes reeling back against the boulder from the pain throbbing over his cheekbone.

“So... you’re a real mermaid then,” he says like it’s no big deal. It’s alright, he just hit his head too hard and tried to pull his presumed rescuer’s leg off. He’s imagining things.

It’s nothing a drink won’t fix, March decides. He fumbles for his flask and finds it still tucked into his shirt pocket. Somehow it hadn’t fallen during his dip in the water.

“Merman. Do I look like a maid?” The stranger sounds decidedly unamused.

“Suppose not.” he agrees. He unscrews the lid of his flask with a flourish.

Holland’s flask is dented and split right open. The only liquid left in it is an unholy bacterial mix of saltwater and liquor. It’s just his luck. Not realizing this, he takes a swig. He ends up coughing and choking. The fish man gives him an unimpressed look.

Eyes steaming, he finally stops coughing. The flask is a bust. He motions to throw it away, somewhere out into the ocean. It’s nature’s trashcan, isn’t it? The United States is dumping barrels of chemical waste out there. One little piece of metal won’t make any difference.

With the speed of a striking snake, the fish guy’s arm shoots out and pins March’s hand to the sand by his wrist. The flask is still clutched in his grasp. A yelp escapes Holland as he feels the bones in his forearm creak warningly. Any more pressure and his arm will snap.

“You won’t litter. What if I came into your home and threw trash into it?”

“How would you get to my house? You don’t have legs,” Holland spouts nervously. “Would you just crawl there? Maybe get a skateboard and—”

“Shut up.”

“Okay,” he says, agreeably, but continues, “So, about the—”

“What did I just say? I’m going to ask you some questions and you’re not going to flap your lips about it. Got it?”

Holland nods and mimes zipping his mouth shut with his free hand. The fish man gives him a skeptical look but eases up on his hand and leans back. Meekly, he tucks the broken flask back into its usual pocket.

“Why are you out here? You don’t look like a jumper or one of those night swimmers.”

“I’m a PI and I have a case, thank you very much.”

Seemingly confused, the mermaid—merman—squints down at him. His eyes are flooded with a solid color. It looks black in the dim light, makes him look like an alien. His hair drips in curls over his forehead. Holland notes that the facial hair has been trimmed. He wonders how. It’s hard to imagine they have shaving razors down in Atlantis.

“What’s a PI?” he asks.

“It stands for private investigator.”

With each breath, the merman’s gills flutter on either side of his neck. The only response Holland gets is a blank look in those inky eyes.

“You know… a detective? A private detective? Private eye?”

There is not so much as a spark of recognition on the merman’s face. March is completely baffled.

“A cop? I’m like one of those but I solve mysteries for people?” he tries.

“You don’t look like one. A cop.”

“Because I’m a PI. I investigate mysteries. Like Scooby-Doo?” he offers, thinking about the masks being pulled off in the cartoon that Holly has been watching on Saturdays to agitate her hungover father off the couch. Well, he’s only hungover for as long as it takes for him to get another drink down his throat. That’s the thing. If you’re always drunk, you feel the aftereffects less. It’s March’s favorite trick.

“The dog?” the merman’s voice rasps. Holland can almost feel the vibrations from the fish man’s chest in his own. He’s still that close, nearly between Holland’s legs. He’s warm and Holland is shivering. He finds himself spreading his legs wider and shifting closer. Shamefully, the PI has to make an effort to stop from plastering himself against the stranger.

He blinks. His voice rises as he asks, “How the fuck do you know what Scooby-Doo is but not what a detective is?”

This night has been overly surreal. Maybe he hit his head harder than he thought. Maybe his brain is having the final functions of a dying man while floating next to the dead body that had sent him into ocean in the first place. Maybe he’s being eaten by the shark right now and is too far gone to realize and his mind is trying to make sense of it by conjuring the animal up as this handsome fish man. Maybe he shouldn’t have rented Splash from the video store the other night. It crossed some wires.

Dismissively, the merman waves a webbed hand. “Right. Who are you?”

“Holland March. I’m a priv—”

That same hand gets shoved into his face, cutting him off. “Jackson Healy.”

Why did his dying subconscious have to make up someone so goddamn rude? Holland shakes it warily. His eyes are still stinging from the saltwater.

“I expected a fish name. Something like Swimathy or James Pond or… Gillbert. I don’t know.”

“Swimathy?” Jackson mutters, disgusted.

Holland makes an offended noise. Hey, at least he’d been trying.

“Why are you out here, March?” he asks.

As Holland thinks about the question, he realizes he hates how the edges of his thoughts are too sharp. The investigator wishes he had alcohol to smooth out his mind until it washed away the discomfort.

“I have a case. Some guy wants me to track down a mythological fish man that tried to drown him the other day. Which I don’t think is even possible because fish men don’t...” he trails off, blinks, his brain kicks into gear. “Jesus! You’re the fish man.”

Healy looks at him, contemplative. The lack of visible pupils makes it more intense than it would be from a human. He squirms under that stare.

“He was hunting and he shouldn’t have been. Not here.”

That’s all but a direct confession. Holland shakily reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out his sodden pack of cigarettes. He puts the wet filter between his lips. A bit of saltwater spurts out with the pressure, coating his tongue in brine. He plucks it out of his mouth, spits, puts it back in place and flicks on his lighter. The cigarette doesn’t catch. Of course not.

Not wanting to be reprimanded for littering again, March shoves the cigarette back in the pack. It explodes tobacco all over his fingers that he has to wipe on his pants before returning the whole situation, pack and lighter, into his pocket.

“I don’t see how that’s my problem. Look, he paid me. A job is a job, alright? You dragged him out of his boat and he wants to know where you are so he can talk it through.”

“Talk it through by sticking me, maybe,” Healy says, bitter tone to his voice, His hand goes to a scar bisecting his upper arm. It flashes silver in the moonlight. Holland had assumed it was a natural marking to go with the other lines and speckles adorning the merman’s skin.

“I don’t ask questions, I just accept payment. It’s a job.” He’s all too aware of how defensive he sound.

Besides, he reasons, this guy… fish… merman is big. Jackson can hold his own, surely. Holland wouldn’t tussle with him, not after feeling some of the strength residing in that thick body of his. He’s built like an old-fashioned bruiser. March can easily picture a pair of brass knuckles on those webbed fingers. All at once, he realizes that Healy’s teeth are sharp and it fully dawns on him that he’s looking at an actual predator, a shark with human intelligence.

Jesus, Holland thinks with dawning horror, what kind of damage could he do if he tried?

“What if I pay you?”

“What? What do you mean pay me? Pay me for what? I don’t solve fish crimes. You lose Bruce out there and need to find him? Do you not have fish detec—”

“March.”

Holland shuts his mouth.

“If I pay you, will you do a job for me as well? You can tell your man where I am, collect on that money and get payment from me after you do my job.”

“What—I don’t accept seashells or whatever fish currency,” he protests, desperately confused.

“You accept paper money? Coins? Jewelry?”

Holland pats himself down in vain. He’s automatically reaching for the crutch of a cigarette before he remembers. Put out, he asks, “How much are we talking?”

“Enough.”

“How do you know what’s enough? How do you even have the means to pay me?” He’s half expecting the fish man to give him a soggy five dollar bill.

Healy moves his wide shoulders up in a shrug as he says, “Your kind leaves shit behind all the time. It all ends up in the water. Finders keepers.”

“But…” he trails off, inarticulate.

“Name a price.”

“I don’t know what the job even is.”

“There’s an organization that deals with illegal hunting—”

“Fishing.” Holland interrupts. In the back of his mind he’s having to come to terms with the idea of fish law and fish court. How else would Jackson know about legalities?

Healy directs a frown at him. “I need you to stick around and tell somebody when he’s out on the water with a net and harpoon doing it. He needs to get caught.“

“Not all fishing is illegal.”

“Yes, I know that,” Jackson says with almost condescending patience, “but what he’s doing is. Some other human got in trouble for doing the same thing. The human has been a real pain in my back, March. I don’t appreciate my life bring thrown around. I’m not going to be his trophy catch.”

“Five hundred. Cash. Paper money. Half up front, other half on delivery,” Holland bursts out, not truly expecting the fish man to agree.

“Done. Meet me where you fell,” he says.

Mouth hanging open, the private investigator watches as the merman pushes out into the water and slips underneath the surface. He’s left behind to get to his feet and traverse through the sand in what he hopes is the right direction of the boardwalk. The beach does its best to steal his shoes.

“Would have been nice if Flipper could have taken me back,” he grumbles.

It’s a relief when he finally climbs the stairs leading up onto the elevated path. Less of a relief is the presence of the body. The dead man is still bobbing unpleasantly by the small boat. A dingy? A rowboat? He’s not sure what to call it. Holland has never been a seaman. He’s not about to start now.

Exhausted, he sits down, letting his legs dangle over the side. It’s been a night. The cold breeze coming off the ocean’s surface makes him shiver. He’s itching for a smoke or a drink. Something. He can’t have shit can he?

March is not sure how long he sits there, soaked and uncomfortably shifting from the chafing of the sand that’s worked its way into places it should never be. He finally gives in and lays down. The back of his head hits the wood with a thunk that makes him wince. After a while, his eyes drift shut and he dozes off.

Something slaps him on the cheek, startling him awake. In a repetition of just a while ago, Holland opens his eyes to see a large figure hovering over him and he stifles a scream.

“How the hell did you get up here?” he gasps. He’s clutching at his heart.

“Jumped. Here. Your money.” Jackson answers, tossing a wet bundle of bills onto his stomach.

Suddenly in much better spirits, Holland sits up and combs through the money with an eager thumb. Two hundred and fifty dollars exactly. The fish man hadn’t been yanking his leg when he said he could pay.

“Meet me tomorrow night at the spot where I dragged you out of the water. Tell your client I’ve been around the pier.”

Before he can respond, Healy turns and launches himself off the wood. He slips into the water with more elegance than the investigator would have expected from something the merman’s size.

“What about the body?” he mutters to no one. The fish man hadn’t explained that at all. Jesus, he hopes that Jackson hadn’t killed him. He shoves the wad of bills into his pocket after standing up.

It’s a long climb up the stairs. He might as well be trying to scale the Great Wall of China. By the time he reaches the top, he’s wheezing and desperately wants to collapse on the ground. Rather making for his car, he digs a fistful of change out of his pocket and goes to the payphone at the edge of the parking lot. He slips some coins, ten cents worth, into the slot before pocketing the rest.

Holland presses the 0 button and waits, debating on just pulling his shoes of. The sand really is aggravating. Only the thought of rubbing his bare toes all over the pedals of his car stops him.

“Hi, operator, can you connect me to the police?”

He listens for the confirmation and waits some more for the connection.

“Los Angeles Police Department.”

“I need to report a dead body. It’s down at the dock from the parking lot at the uhhh…” Holland thinks for a moment,” just off Via Riviera and Paseo.”

“Sir, what—”

“Anyway, super dead. Very much in the water. Don’t know what happened. Goodnight,” and he hangs up.

Not wanting to deal with the arrival of the police to be asked questions he doesn’t know the answers to, he wastes no time launching himself behind the wheel of his Benz and getting out of the lot. He’s going to straight home and rinse off in the shower before collapsing into bed. When he wakes up in the morning, things will be normal and fish free. He’ll laugh all of this off as a hallucination.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Light burrowing through the gaps of the blinds and through the curtains is what drags Holland from his slumber. He lays on his side for a moment, taking stock of how sore his body feels. Straining, he makes out the numbers displayed on his bedside block. It’s already well past noon. There’s only a few more hours of daylight left.

With a sigh, he sits up and drags himself out of bed only to immediately trip over the discarded pile of clothing on his floor. It’s wet.

“What…?”

Last night comes rushing at him and Holland snatches up the bundle of cloth. He starts tearing through his pockets looking for evidence that it hadn’t been some kind of alcohol induced dream. He finds the cracked flask and the still damp wad of cash.

March stumbles back, still holding onto the stiffening pants and sits on the edge of his bed. It had been real. That means… Jackson Healy the merman had been real too. Fish people aren’t just myths. The pants slip out of his slackened grasp and fall back onto the floor to join the rest of clothing he’d worn last night.

Feeling dazed, he goes to the kitchen. He doesn’t bother to get dressed in anything more than the boxers and undershirt he’d put on after rinsing himself free of saltwater last night.

He aims for some normalcy, as much as he gets given his choice of employment, and starts the coffeepot. He sets a mug out on the counter. Deciding he’s going to need a bit of a kick while he thinks about the events of the past twenty-four hours, he drags over a bottle of bourbon.

“Dad?” comes Holly’s voice. He’s surprised for a moment then he realizes that it’s a Saturday, no school. Holland is on top of things enough to know that.

The private investigator knows that he’s lucky to have such a good kid. In his more sober moments, he loathes having been the cause of her needing to be so independent at a young age. Holland March is a fuck-up and everyone knows it. He wishes he were a better man, one that wasn’t making his daughter pay the price for his shortcomings and self-inflicted issues. One of these days, he’s going to kick the drinking habit and do right by her, but… today is not going to be that day.

“Hi, honey,” he says, fetching a second mug from the cupboard without her needing to ask. Should a thirteen year old be drinking coffee? Probably not, but March isn’t going to stop her.

Once the coffee finishes dripping into the glass carafe, he fills both mugs two-thirds of the way in order to leave room for any additives. He pushes Holly’s at her along with the sugar jar. He fills his own the rest of the way up with bourbon while she fetches creamer from the fridge.

“What did you do last night? There’s sand and stuff all over the place.”

“I... uh... I had a case last night. I need to check in on the client today and meet with Jackson tonight. Also don’t say—”

` “Were you just drinking again?” she asks before he can finish his word policing. Holly is skeptical, too jaded to hope. She knows him too well to expect real progress from him. It would sting if it weren’t so accurate.

“No! No, my flask actually broke. I didn’t have a drop, promise.” He neglects to mention he had already drank about half of it and had whatever backwater distillery project Sam had handed him prior to Holland doing a nosedive off the pier.

“Dad.”

“Remember that case I mentioned? The mermaid guy? Well, I found his fish man and he wasn’t bullshitting. There’s an actual mermaid, well he said he wasn’t a maid. I thought he was a shark at first, but he saved me and—”

“Dad.”

“Yes?” Everyone seems determined to interrupt him when he’s speaking. He takes a drink from his mug.

“I’m going with you today.” she says, holding up a hand to stop him from saying anything further.

“Okay.” He gives in, doesn’t protest a bit. Holland doesn't want to leave her alone, not today.

Holly looks surprised at the lack of protest. She’d clearly had expected a fight about it.

“I’ll get dressed. Meet you by the car in fifteen?”

Holly flashes him a thumbs up and shoots off down the hall to her bedroom like the Roadrunner off LoonyTunes. He’d been just as high energy back when he was a kid. Holland’s own parents could barely get him to sit still enough to eat dinner most nights.

Burning his mouth a little, he downs the rest of his coffee in two swallows. He goes to his own room at a slightly more sedate pace to find a set of fresh clothes. He’s already mourning the future spent without a functioning flask. He’s going to have to rely on cigarettes alone until he can pick one up on Monday when his daughter is at school. He doesn’t want to have to face the disappointment in her eyes if he purchases one while they’re together. Upsetting her this afternoon is not an option, not with it being the anniversary of her mom’s death.

In preparation for everything tonight might entail, Holland gets dressed in clothing he’s less attached to. If he’s running the risk of sand and finding himself in the ocean again, he’s not styling himself up to the nines. Khaki pants and a short sleeve button-up on top of his underthings are as fancy as he’s getting. Grimacing, he puts on the same pair of loafers he’d worn last night. The traces of sand still lingering in the corners try to breach the barrier of his socks.

When Holland leaves the room, he finds Holly’s bedroom door open without her in sight. He scrapes his keys out of the bowl. He also makes sure to write a fresh copy of Sam’s address on the underside of his forearm, right below his watchband, before he steps outside. He doesn’t feel like trying to remember the house number and street.

As expected, his daughter is waiting for him by the Benz.

“You ready, kiddo?” he asks.

Holly nods, only to look surprised when he loops around to the driver’s side and takes a seat behind the wheel. He’s so disgustingly sober he feels capable of driving with his daughter as a passenger.

“Where are we going?”

“To visit the client. I need to tell him what I found.”

“Oh right… your mermaid,” Holly says doubtfully.

Unbothered by her disbelief, March cranks up the radio, and they’re soon flying down the streets of LA. He slaps the outside of the car door in time with the beat. Holly can be a skeptic all she likes, but she’s going to be surprised when she sees her old man isn’t lying after he takes her with him on his house call to see the merman himself.

In no time at all, he pulls to a stop alongside the curb in front of the same ramshackle house he’d been in just the afternoon before. Holland probably should have called ahead, but it’s too late for that now. He hops out of the vehicle and makes his way up the sidewalk to the front door with his daughter trailing behind him. The private investigator taps his knuckles against the peeling door. It’s promptly answered by the same man as yesterday who peers at him suspiciously from around the door before flinging it open wide.

Sam adjusts his hat and looks approvingly at Holland from below hooded eyes. “Surprised to see ya back so soon, city boy.” He looks at where Holly is standing beside her father with her arms crossed. “And who’s this little lady?”

“My daughter. Holly.”

“Nice to meet ya. I’m Sam. Your dad’s doing me a real big favor,” he says, before turning to Holland with a grin, “Come on in and tell me what you found, yeah?”

Without hesitating, the father and daughter follow Sam inside. Holland doesn’t miss the way Holly has to suppress a gag at the smell the boiled shark cartilage must be putting off. He wonders if the fisherman still has a sense of smell and has just grown immune to it, or if he is like Holland and simply can’t smell.

“I found your fish man,” he blurts out, wanting to get this over with.

Sam’s eyes light up with uncontained glee. “Yeah, where did you find the slippery bastard?”

“By the pier. The one attached to the boardwalk by Via Riviera and Paseo.”

“Ah, he’s moved further north than when he pulled me out of my boat. What time did you see him?”

“Not long after dusk. You were right about his… patterns being like a shark.”

The rugged man claps him on the shoulder. Holland’s knees nearly buckle with the impact. Sam praises, “Good work, we’ll get him yet.”

Failing to successfully wave of offers of tomato soup from the many cans, Holland finds himself seated on a threadbare couch next to his daughter while their host regales them with old seafaring tales from his time on commercial fishing boats. All three of them have chipped bowls of soup in their hands. No spoons. The thick liquid had been heated on the stove next to the ever boiling pot of shark parts. He’s sure it has to affect the taste given the despairing glances Holly keeps sending his way when Sam isn’t looking.

Trying to not bounce his leg impatiently while the other man talks, Holland gulps down his soup. His mind keeps going to the fish man that will be waiting for them soon. It’s going to be a significant drive to the ocean followed by a too-long walk along the shore to reach the spot where Jackson had pulled him to dry ground.

After a while, he simply cannot take any more and manages to speak during a lull in the fisherman’s bottomless, one-sided storytelling. “Sorry, Sam. We’re going to have to head out. Holly’s got homework. You know how it is. Thank you. Bye.”

Sam’s own goodbyes and reassurances that he’ll let Holland know when he “catches that big brute” follow them out of the door while they make their escape to the relative safety of the vehicle. Holly sags back into the seat while he starts the Benz and begins the drive. The sun is already beginning to set. Nervously, he drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

The lot is empty again just as it had been the evening before. Police tape marks off the stairs, though there are no officers milling about. He probably should have checked the news, but regardless, he pulls into the same spot he’d been parked in.

Having learned enough from last time, he strips off his shoes and socks and gestures for Holly to do the same. They toss it all onto the back floorboard to retrieve later. Pleasantly, the parking lot is still warm under their feet as they make their way to the stairs. March holds the tape up for his daughter to step below before ducking under himself. As she passes him, he notices that she’s carrying two Yoo-hoos. The investigator doesn’t say anything. Maybe she is planning on being thirsty after their walk.

Holland digs a cigarette out of the pack and lights it once it’s between his lips. It dangles there while they amble downwards and finally make it onto the level surface over a dozen feet below the parking lot level.

“Dad… Are you sure you weren’t just imagining things?” Holly asks when he leads them off the boardwalk to the beach. Sand threatens to engulf them up to the ankles.

“You’ll see,” he promises.

next chapter -»

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[broskiblurbs]

When I Lose You (A Tom Holland FanFic)

Words: 2729

Summary: You and Tom are engaged, but a battle with cancer has other plans.

Disclaimer: ANGST ANGST ANGST; mentions of death and vomit

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Life. It’s a fragile thing. Something that can be taken in a second. You can do everything right and still not have enough time. Humans long to live until a hundred years old, but death could overcome them before another breath. In reality, how do we have the right to make plans for the future if it isn’t promised? Wouldn’t that be an insult, no, a challenge to the Grim Reaper himself? Death is horrifying and it’s coming.

This was something you found out on starry Friday night, well you imagined it would be starry if there wasn’t so much light pollution. The Hollands, a family you grew quite fond of, were having a rooftop party to celebrate Paddy graduating from secondary school. Everyone was having a great time. The loud music was causing a headache for you, but you just popped an Ibuprofen and kept pushing through. Headaches haven't been an uncommon thing for you recently, especially in the mornings. You figure it’s just the stress of wedding planning.

Tom Holland, your husband to be, currently had his arm around your waist and boasting to his best mate, Harrison, about soccer. Well, Tom would call it football. The world seemed to start spinning, so you burrow your face into your fiancé’s shoulder.

“You alright, love?” Tom’s sweet voice rang through your ears.

“I’m not feeling so well,” you answer, feeling your stomach turning inside and out.

“We can leave if we have to. Paddy would understand,” he suggested.

“No,” you respond. Sure, Tom’s little brother would understand, but you only graduate from secondary school once and you wanted to celebrate with him. “Maybe, we could just sit down for a bit.”

“Of course, darling.”

The two of you sat at a couple of loveseats where Harry and Sam Holland were sitting as they discussed bright ideas for The Brother’s Trust. The twins have been your best friends since long before you and Tom started dating. They were running down the sidewalks, for God knows what, in New York City, and Harry accidently ran into you causing you to spill your coffee all over yourself. To make up for it, they bought you a new shirt and coffee. You all have been the dream trio ever since.

About twenty minutes after sitting down, you started feeling even worse. You felt like your brain was going to pound out of your skull. The dizziness felt like you just got off of one of those spinning rides at the amusement park. The vomit, well, you were sure that was going to come back up at any moment. It was dancing its way up your throat and you knew it was coming.

“I’m going to be sick,” you announce, weakly. Tom rushed you inside, knowing you wouldn’t want to throw up in front of everyone. Harry and Sam were right on your heels. They wanted to be there for you, but they didn’t know how. You emptied your insides in the nearest trash can you can find. Tom gently rubbed your back and pulled your hair out of the way as you puke. 

“I’m going to go get you some water,” Sam said and hurried on his way.

“It tastes disgusting,” you manage to say in between chunks.

“I know, love. Um, Harry. Do you think you could grab something like a paper towel or a wash rag?” Tom asked.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” The two of you sit in silence, other than the sound of you gagging, for a while before Tom speaks up.

“Darling, I know you hate doctors, but maybe it’s time to see one. You’re always sick and I’m worried,” your fiancé suggests. You finally manage to stop throwing up.

“No, it’s probably a bug. Nothing a little rest can’t fix,” you respond.

“But-”

“I said it’s fine, Tom,” you bite back a bit more harshly than you intended. 

Before Tom could say anything else, the twins were back and ready to help their friend any way they can. They wiped the puke off your face and made sure you’re all hydrated before you make your way back to the party. Unfortunately, you never make it back to the celebration because you pass out cold right before you get to the door that led out to the rooftop. 

“Y/N!” Tom and his brothers rush to your side. “Darling, can you hear me?” Sam checks for your pulse and thankfully it’s there, but weak. “Harry, call 999. Sam, get Mum and Dad.” Tears are rolling down Tom’s cheeks as he screams for you to be okay. 

Your arms and legs start jerking. Your head starts shaking all around. Your lips are turning blue and you are obviously having a hard time breathing. Tom sits next you panicked, having no idea how to help you. He felt completely useless and because of that he might lose you. “Oh my god, she’s having a seizure,” Nikki, the mother, exclaimed. She immediately takes control of the situation by making sure there were no harmful objects nearby. She also turned you on your side so you could breathe easily.

“I didn’t- I couldn’t help her.” At this point Tom is hysterical.

“Hon, I know this is really scary, but right now, the best thing you could do is keep calm. Take a couple deep breaths. That’s what she needs from you.” She turns to her twins. “You two, go downstairs and direct the paramics up here. The last thing she needs is to be crowded when she wakes up.”

But, you don’t wake up until you’re in the emergency room. You are hooked up to a monitor and IVs. You have a device around your face that helps oxygen go into your nose. You will later find out that it is called a nasal cannula. You still have a headache and you feel like you’ve been hit by a bus. You see Tom staring at you. His eyes are puffy and red. His cheeks are very tear-stained. He’s just looking at you. Not saying anything. 

“How long have I been out?” you ask, deciding to break the silence.

“A day,” he responds, almost emotionless.

“Are you-” You were going to ask if he is okay, but he interrupts.

“I’m going to go get the doctor.” He leaves you worried. He never acts like that: cold and distant. 

A few minutes later Tom comes back with a cheery doctor. A doctor who you will get close to in the upcoming weeks, Dr. Parker.

“Good morning, Y/N,” she greets. It wasn’t morning. She’s just trying to lighten the room a bit. “I’m Dr. Parker. How are you feeling?”

“I have a bit of a headache and I feel a bit weak, but nothing to worry about,” you respond, which causes Tom to scoff.

“Go ahead. Tell her. Tell her what you told me,” he demanded. He couldn’t be completely depleted of emotion because you caught a glimpse of a tear rolling down his face.

“When you came in we ran a couple of scans: CT and MRI. It showed you have a large mass in your brain tissue,” she informed. That's when you noticed the “oncologist” on her medical jacket. Your heart dropped to your bum by the news.

“I-I have cancer?” you ask, already knowing the answer. Brain cancer has been in your family for generations. You knew it was only a matter of time until you got diagnosed, which is why you hate the doctors.

“Unfortunately, the test did come back cancerous,” she responded softly.

“How much time does she have?” Your fiancé asked. The doctor took a deep breath.

“It’s hard to say, but I would say weeks, months at most.” Her cheery smile has fallen now.

Everything you look forward to seems to be taken from you in an instant. Going to the movies with Harry and Sam to see the new Marvel movie next month. Going back home to the States to visit your mother who was not healthy enough to come visit you on your deathbed. Your wedding. Having children. Growing old with Tom, the absolute love of your life. All gone. No longer your moments. Simply wishes of a future that you don’t get to have. It wasn’t fair.

“I’ll give you two a moment and then I’ll come back to discuss chemotherapy to see if we could slow the growth.” You look at Tom who was sitting back down in the chair, his hands on his face, and staring blankly into space. 

“Tom, I’m so sorry,” you apologized, crying.

“I asked over and over again for you to go to the doctor,” he whispered. “We could have caught it in time. I wouldn’t have to watch you die.”

“I-I didn’t think it would be this serious,” you replied.

“Of course you didn’t,” he scoffs, running his hands through his brown locks.

“It’ll be okay. We will figure something out,” you try. Tom jumps up.

“You don’t get it. It will have to be me who has to learn to live without you! It will have to be me who buries you!” He yells causing you to startle. Seeing this reaction seems to calm him down a bit. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t yell. I am scared. I don't know what I will do when I lose you, darling.

“I can fight this. I will fight this. It can still get better. We can do this,” you promise. He nodded his head in agreement and hugged you.

A few weeks have passed and chemo has taken the light out of your eyes. You’re not the same as you used to be. You’re always tired and ill. Your hair has been falling out, which was the biggest thing for you. You love your hair. It’s your favorite part of you.

“Tom, I’m going to have to shave it all off,” you cry into his shoulder.

“I know, but you will look just as beautiful, I promise,” he coos into your ear.

“No, I won’t! Imagine the wedding photos. They’re going to be awful,” you exclaim.

“They will be wonderful. You have nothing to worry about,” he replies.

“Will you do it?” you ask, looking up at him.

“Do what?”

“Shave it off,” you respond. He gives you a concerning look. “Please.”

The next day, Tom shaved all your hair off, which absolutely broke your heart. You cried for hours in the hospital bed. You were going on about how it wasn’t fair, you were ugly now, and that you were tired of all of this. Tom knew your time was coming. The doctors said you were getting worse by the hour and all chemo was doing was delaying the inevitable. 

“Hey, look Y/N! We got a surprise for you! Ta-da!” Harry and Sam came into the room with their hair completely shaved off. They were bald just like you.

“You guys did that for me?” You asked.

“We knew how much it upset you,” Sam said.

“We thought if we shaved our heads it would make it seem less scary,” Harry added.

“That is so..” You sit there, thinking “I can’t think of the word.” 

“Thoughtful?” Tom suggested.

“Yes, that’s the word. That is so thoughtful. Thank you.” You smiled, but were clearly upset you couldn’t remember a word.

“Now, it’s harder to tell which is who,” Nikki exclaimed. “Hello, dear.” She gave you a big hug. “I brought you these.” She laid out a few wigs and head scarfs.

“Oh, thank you! They’re so pretty!” You look at all the different options you have.

“We also brought you this,” Sam said as he laid out a white and black shirt.

“Oh, thank you,” you thanked questionably.

“You don’t remember it?” Harry questioned. You shooked your head. “It was the shirt we bought you when I ran into you.” You still looked lost.

“Remember, that’s how we met. Harry ran into you and spilled your coffee, so we bought this shirt in return,” Sam added hopefully.

“Oh, yeah,” you answered, not sounding convincing at all. You couldn’t remember. You had completely forgotten how you met your best friends. It only got worse from here.

A few more weeks go by and it’s clear you weren’t getting better and you were never going to get better. You had already flatlined twice, but the doctors were able to bring you back. You were even more exhausted. You barely could walk or go to the bathroom. You were as weak as ever and it felt like torture to you.

“Tom,” you call.

“Yeah?”

“I want to marry you,” you announce.

“I know and you will, darling,” he answered. He was also exhausted. He had barely slept. He hasn’t been home in weeks, not wanting to leave your side. He was afraid as soon as he left, you would die and he wouldn’t be there for you.

“No, I mean, now. Here,” you clarify.

“In the hospital?” He asked and you nod. “No. No way. You will get better and we will have a big ceremony with pink roses. Just like you wanted.”

“Tom, we’re kidding ourselves. I’m never getting better. I’m dying,” you said. This is the first time you said it out loud, which made it even more real, causing the both of you to cry. “I’m tired, Tom. I’m done.”

“W-what happened to keep fighting? We can do this. You just have to keep believing, please,” Tom begged, tears streaming down his face. You shake your head.

“I have no more left in me. I can’t even sit up in my bed without help. I don’t even remember my birthday. It’s time, and I want my last moments to be marrying you, please, Tom. Help me.” You pleaded.

“You’re giving up? What about our life together?” His eyes are now red and puffy.

“We already lived our life and it was perfect. Now, now, it’s the end. I want it to be a happy one. I want to die as your wife. Please, Tom.” You grasp his hand. He knew you probably weren’t going to live for the rest of the day. Even the doctor told him that you should be dead by now.

“Darling, I-I can’t,” he cried.

“Yes, you can. You’re the strongest person I know.” Tom is sobbing into you. “Please.”

He finally agrees because deep down, he knew it was time to let go. He called his family to the hospital. He helped put on your favorite wig, paint your nails, and put some make-up on. Once everyone got there, you immediately started, knowing the clock was ticking.

“Thank you,” you say. Tom couldn’t say “you’re welcome,” so he just nodded. The two of you shared your vows. Yours wasn’t very long since you couldn’t remember what you were going to say, but Tom’s was beautiful, yet heartbreaking. He talked about how he enjoyed the little time you two had together, how it wasn’t fair that you were being taken away from him, and that he couldn’t wait to dance with you in the afterlife. You two shared your “I dos.” 

Tom kissed you like it was the last time he’ll ever kiss you because it will be. He tried to hold on to how your lips felt brushing against his. He tried to remember every detail of you: Your smile, you beautiful eyes, your laugh, just you.

“See you later,” you bid him goodbye. The monitor flat lines as your heart was too weak to beat. Tom yells in pain. He holds to your body, feeling the last of your warmth leaving your body. He sobs into your hospital gown. Sam and Harry are crying too, but not as much. They already mourn your loss while you battled cancer. The doctors come rushing in to try to save you. They try to pull you out of Tom’s grasp, so they could resuscitate you.

“No! Please, no! She doesn’t want this,” Tom begged, still holding onto you. “She told me she was ready.”

“She didn’t sign a DNR,” Dr. Parker said.

“I know, but she told me. Please, don’t do this to her,” He pleaded.

“It’s true,” Harry and Sam agreed, even though they weren’t there. Dr. Parker took a deep breath and signaled the doctors to go.

“Time of death: 18:47.”

part two here

[alyana-luvs-u]

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒

hii loves <3

here are some guidelines for requests:

reader preference: fem!reader and gender neutral!reader only

characters I write for: there are a list of characters below which I am comfortable doing, however if your person is out of that list, still request and I will see whether I deem it suitable

request details: the more details, the better! this way, I can see what you're imagining, and bring it to life! <3

➺ 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐘 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

james potter

sirius black

remus lupin

peter pettigrew

barty crouch jr

regulus black

evan rosier

poly! marauders

poly! wolfstar

harry potter

ron weasley

fred weasley

george weasley

charlie weasley

bill weasley

percy weasley

cedric diggory

draco malfoy

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mattheo riddle

lorenzo berkshire

lucius malfoy

severus snap

tom riddle

abraxas malfoy

➺ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋

tony stark

bruce banner

clint barton

pietro maximoff

!poly avengers

bucky barnes/winter soldier

sam wilson

steve rogers

thor odinson

loki odinson

peter parker (andrew garfield, tom holland)

doctor strange

peter quill

wade wilson

➺𝐌𝐀𝐙𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑

newt

thomas

minho

jorge

aris

gally

frypan

alby

winston

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conrad fisher

jeremiah fisher

cam cameron

steven conklin

➺ 𝐒𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌

billy loomis

stu macher

➺ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒

fitz vacker

dex dizznee

keefe sencen

alvin vacker

tam song

[nickeverdeen]

MCU masterlist

Match-ups:

Peter Quill

Peter Parker 1

Shuri

Peter 1 #2

Peter 1

Peter 3

Bucky

Sam

(you can also choose a group in which I’ll pair you with the characters from it or you can just leave it in general and I’ll choose from all of the groups)

Preferences:

The original 6 Avengers reacting to you kissing them while being drunk

The young Avengers and their love language

(you can choose which characters you want or whatever group you want)

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From Crayons to Canvases | Doctor Strange x platonic fem!reader

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Caught in the Act (Sort of)

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Bodyguard!Kate Bishop x Mafia boss fem!reader

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[tomholland1996simp]

I love your tom Holland x daughter imagine, could you please do another where y/n throws a tantrum and like starts hitting everyone and then hurting herself? And Tom calms her down? X

Tantrums || Tom holland x daughter

I’m backkk, sorry I took a bit of a break due to my mental health. I just needed to have a break from writing and try to sort myself out. But i’m back again writing, enjoy :) <3 P.s this is such bad writing and it’s short.

Also there’s something wrong with my master list can anyone help?

Summary: Toms daughter, Y/n, throws a very bad tantrum and started to throw things and hurt everyone. Then when Tom walks in he sees her trying to hurt her self so he takes her away to calm her down and speak to his daughter.

Y/n could come very angry easily, the most littlest things could stress her out and she could become angry. Of course she was still only young, at the age of 5. She was still learning right from wrong. Most of the times Toms mother, Nikki was with Y/n when he was away, so she took care of the little holland even during her bad times. Tom had been there too, he’s seen her fits and has always calmed her down.

However, recently y/n has been becoming a bit too violent when she becomes angry or distraught. Toms brothers were always the ones to become the target of the little girls attacks. Why? No one could tell, maybe because they reminded her of her dad. She really missed him a lot.

The holland brothers (minus Tom), were sitting in the living room one day. Them all messing around playing with y/n who seemed to be enjoying their company. When suddenly Harry’s phone started to ring, him picking it up as everyone became quiet as his answered his phone.

“Oh, hey Tom. You alright, mate?” Harry spoke, the girls head perking up at the sound of her dads name. “Daddy?” She said, only to be shushed by Paddy as Harry was talking to Tom. Y/n sent him a glare, not knowing why her dad was calling her uncle.

“Alright, yeah. Nah she’s just playing with her toys. Yes, she’s had lunch.” Harry chuckled at his brothers worried questions.

The truth was is that Tom was nearly home. He was in fact in Harrison’s car, his best friend who had picked him up from the airport. Tom normally wanted to talk to his daughter, but he wanted to surprise her in person to hear her voice and see her beautiful cute face.

“Daddy!” Was shouted from the phone as y/n sat next to Harry, doing grabby hands so she could speak to Tom. “Pleaseee” she asked nicely, trying not to lose her cool.

Harry shook his head saying his goodbyes to his oldest brother, trying not to give the surprise away. “See you in a few weeks, Tom, bye” He ended the call, placing his phone on the side.

Y/n looked at her uncle angry, she had asked him nicely to speak to her dad. She got off the couch going to Harry’s phone and taking it. “Hey, y/n, give me the phone please” He asked putting his hand out.

“No! I wanted to speak to daddy” She whined, stomping her feet loudly.

“Sweetheart, he’s busy he’s at work” That nick name was the name her dad would call her too, so it sent something to the 5 year olds brain.

“I DONT CARE! Call him” Y/n threw the phone at Harry, demanding to speak to her dad.

“Y/n we don’t throw things” Sam raised his voice, they were all used to this. Y/n always got mad and threw things, she didn’t mean to of course, but she never really learnt from her mistakes.

The girls eyes welled with tears, it had been two whole days since she’s heard his voice. The voice that she loved the most. The voice that would read her a book till she fell asleep. That voice was Toms. “Let me speak to him!” She screamed.

Paddy sighed, walking out of the room knowing a tantrum was due to break out. Normally the boys try to deal with it, but instead he went to get his mum. When Nikki walked in minutes later, she saw y/n about to throw one of her dolls at Sam.

“Y/n, honey. We don’t throw things-“ Just as she said that the girl threw the doll at Sam, it missing and hitting the wall behind him. Sam did say something to set her off.

Sam grabbed the little girls hands as she punched him, trying to calm her down as she screamed and cried. “Hey, hey. Come on you know your not allowed to hit people” He tried to soothe her down but that didn’t work.

Nikki walked over, placing a hand on the small back of y/n’s. Touch was the thing she didn’t need from them right now. Y/n turned around and slapped Nikki’s hand off her, it becoming a surprise to them all. Y/n loved her Nan the most, she would never hit her or get mad. Normally she would love her touch and run into her arms.

“Y/n you need to calm down” Nikki said softly, the girl walking away from them a little as she kicked another toy that laid on the floor. That’s when y/n brought her right hand to her face, slapping it harshly. Nikki gasped, not liking the way she slapped her face.

No one heard the front door open, or the call that Tom shouted to tell everyone he was here. What he expected was his little girl to come running along happily, not to hear loud cried from the living room. He placed his bags down, Harrison trailing behind him.

Then he saw his daughter, she was slapping herself and he flinches at every time she done it. Nikki was crouched down trying to stop the sobbing girl, but it was no use.

“Hey, hey” Tom ran into the room, his brothers and mother relived that he was finally hear. Nikki backed away, letting her oldest son step in to soothe his daughter.

“Go away!” Y/n shouted, delivering another slap to her face, again. Toms eyes softened, him grabbing her hands slowly, rubbing them soothingly.

“It’s daddy, i’m right here, sweetheart” Her eyes open instantly, there he appeared. The face she hadn’t seen in what felt like forever for her. It had been nearly two whole months without feeling his comfort.

“Daddy?” She cried as she fell into his body, hugging him tightly.

“Yes, it’s me” Tom tried not to cry, he didn’t like it when she became like this all sad and angry. Tom picked her small body up, her face still crying in his neck. He looked over to his family, smiling gratefully at them, the boys nodding for him to take her somewhere more quiet.

Walking up the stairs, he played with y/n’s hair hearing her cries go to tiny sniffles. He went into his room, closing the door behind him. Sitting on the bed he went to move the girl but she only held onto him tighter. “No!” She whined.

“I’m here, i’m not gonna leave” He laid onto his made bed, laying her on his chest so she can hear his heart beat. After ten minutes y/n had calmed down, she looked up at Tom who was jet lagged.

“I’m sorry, daddy” She sat up a little onto his chest, “I didn’t mean to hurt uncle harry or sammy” Y/n honestly told him.

“I know, baby. But you can’t hit people, not your family who love you so much. And you most definitely shouldn’t hurt yourself” He wiped away the last tears that fell, cradling her face that she leaned into.

“I just missed you, and Harry wouldn’t let me twlk to you” She sighed, Toms heart breaking.

“It’s okay. It’s done and over with, we just move on from it. That was my fault, I told your uncles that I wanted to surprise you. I love you so much okay, so so much” He brought her back into a hug, kissing her head.

“I love you too, daddy”

“Wanna go apologise to the others? I’ve also got you a present” That made her eyes widen, excited to see what he had got her, but also to say sorry to her family.

“YES! Yess!”

This is shit.

[radioactiveparker]

Masterlist

Wallpaper Masterlist

Eddie Munson

Headcanons

Eddie Munson - (1) (2) (3)

Eddie Munson X Reader - (1) (2) (3) (Halloween)

Eddie Munson X Reader NSFW - (1)

Imagines

Mistletoe and Wine (smut)

Ride It Hard (smut)

Full Moon High

First Time For Everything (smut)

Happy Birthday, Sweetheart (smut)

A Proposition To Make Amends (smut)

The Boy Next Door (smut)

Blurbs

Smut - (1) (2) (3) Dad!Eddie - (1)

Series

The Breakfast Club

Steve Harrington

Headcanons

Steve Harrington - (1) (2) (3)

Steve Harrington X Reader - (1) (2)

Steve Harrington X Reader NSFW - Coming soon

Imagines

Back To You

What I Go To School For (smut)

A Proposition To Make Amends (smut)

Robin Buckley

Imagines

It's A Date

Who I write for:

Stranger Things

Eddie Munson

Steve Harrington

Billy Hargrove

Robin Buckley

Jonathan Byers

Marvel Universe

Nancy Wheeler

Supernatural

Sam Winchester

Dean Winchester

Peter Parker (Tom Holland / Andrew Garfield)

Bucky Barnes

Michelle Jones

Kate Bishop

Yelena Belova

Wanda Maximoff

Scott Lang

Peter Quill

Harry Potter

Draco Malfoy

Mattheo Riddle

Harry Potter

Ron Weasley

Hermione Granger

Pansy Parkinson

Fred Weasley

George Weasley

Hogwarts Legacy

Sebastian Sallow

Ominis Gaunt

Garreth Weasley

Call of Duty

Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Johnny 'Soap' Mactavish