#my crops are watered my acne has begun to clear

[jaceyneedsabetterusername]

Knight In Black Leather

Pairings: Punk!Tom x Reader (I saw this edit and couldn’t help myself) 

Summary: When Tom sees Y/N getting harassed by a guy who looks like he has far from good intentions, he decides to step in. 

Warnings: Drugs (implication of date rape drugs), Implication of intention to rape, Fighting, Vomit, More cursing than usual for my fics, Tom being an absolutely sickeningly sweet gentleman

Word Count: 4400

A/N: This is strictly self-indulgent if I’m being honest. The whole creepy guy trying to be rape-y and getting beat up for it is actually something that did happen to me at a concert and I’m just fantasizing about punk!Tom being the guy who beat him up so I’m sorry if the details are weirdly specific XD. Also, Tom being protective and fighting but then a 10/10 gentleman is just something I NEED in my life like right now. I’m not even sorry this is so self-indulgent

_______________________

Music blared in your ears, making your very soul rumble with the weight of the bass and the crashing drums blaring over the numerous speakers around the room. Lights strobed all around the room, illuminating your face when it passed over you. Bodies were everywhere and, even though you weren’t in the mosh pit, people were still close to you in every proximity, just not ramming into your full force back here. 

“Dude, I’m so fucking excited!” Your best friend Lillia yelled into your ear as the opening acts played. “I can’t believe you actually won tickets to see our favorite band play! I mean, who actually wins those things?” 

The giddy smile on your face hadn’t disappeared since you pulled into the parking lot, “Apparently, I do now!” 

“You should start calling in on those ones that pass out money!” She yelled back with a laugh. 

This girls night was much needed. Both of your jobs had been kicking your asses lately, what had started as a job you were actually excited about starting gradually becoming more and more soul sucking. When you heard your favorite band was playing in town and the local radio station was giving out two free tickets, you couldn’t help but call in. Not that you expected anything of it, of course, but when the hosts’ voices began congratulating you on the other end, you couldn’t stop thanking them. 

Now you and Lillia were in the dark venue that already smelled like sweat, your boots sticking to the ground with spilled alcohol with every step. Both of you were dressed ready to kill. You wore distressed black stockings beneath your black shorts, paired with a black crop top and your favorite boots. Your eyes were painted dark and sultry. A few bracelets dangled around your wrists and your hair was tricked out just how you liked it for concerts. It felt refreshing to finally be able to be like this again. You’d been forced into looking professional for work and then on your days off, you were too tired or busy to get all dressed up. Looking like this, you felt like a million dollars. 

As the second opening act went on, you noticed Lillia gradually start to turn greener and greener every time you glanced over at her. Her energy was quickly draining and her initial giddy jumpiness had turned into a sluggish grip on your shoulder. “Are you okay?” You asked, turning to your friend with a concerned expression. 

Her mouth hung open slightly and her eyes rolled a little as she swallowed hard. You were expecting something, a head roll or shake, but her hand came to cover her mouth and, without warning, she took off up the short stairs and ran to the bathroom, bumping into people all along the way. 

You snapped into action, following her, apologizing to everyone she’d ran into in her desperate attempt to find the toilet. By the time you made it, she had already crashed to her knees at the front of the white porcelain seat and heaved the contents of her stomach into it. You grimaced at the sounds, trying your best to not breathe through your nose, but leaned over to gather her hair out of her face for her. 

“You alright?” You asked her once she finally stopped heaving, sitting on the tile ground and leaning back against the stall. A slightly disgusted look crossed your face when you watched her bare hands touch the nasty public bathroom floor, covered in who knew what. 

She shook her head, “I think I got food poisoning. I tried some new place for lunch after work today.” 

“Oh shit. Do you want to head home?” You asked, heart falling a little at the prospect. You wanted so badly to stay here but her health was more important than some concert. 

Again, Lillia shook her head, struggling to stand up. You reached down to help her up. “You stay. I’ll head back to my place.” 

“What? No! I don’t want to leave you alone when you’re feeling this crappy. We can leave, it’s not that big of a deal. We’ll catch the next concert.” You insisted, already reaching for her keys that you were holding onto in your pocket. 

Lillia made her way out of the stall and to the sink to rinse her mouth out, looking back up to you after she spit, “Really, I don’t want to ruin your night. Besides, you don’t need to spend all night watching me puke my brains out.” 

You stopped and thought for a minute. Thankfully, she didn’t live too far away and you could always stop by after to make sure she was alright. “Okay, fine. I’ll take an Uber or something. Call me if you need anything, okay?” 

Lillia looked at you apologetically, taking her keys from your hand, “I’m so sorry. I’ll make it up to you. Have enough fun for the both of us.” You walked her to the front door before watching her leave (well, actually, she ran out the front door in a desperate search for the nearest trash can). Security stopped you from helping her, telling you that if you left, you’d be denied re-entry. After she was done puking again, she held up a weak thumbs up to you and wobbled off towards the parking garage. 

With a heavy sigh, you turned around and went back to the main floor, grabbing an overpriced bottle of water on the way. The other headlining band had begun to play while Lillia was busy emptying her stomach in the bathroom but you didn’t mind much. They weren’t who you came to see. You only knew a few of their songs, singing the ones you knew and just headbanging to the ones you didn’t. 

Suddenly, there was a big crash against your body and you flinched immediately defensive, especially when the person kept jumping practically on your toes. You stumbled a few inches over before looking over, clearly annoyed at the man who was jumping up and down. You made eye contact with him and threw your hands up, the message clear: What the fuck is your problem? 

He had a big smile on his face as he was clearly oblivious to the inconvenience he’d caused you. “Hey! You want this? My friend was supposed to meet me here but didn’t so now I have this extra drink!” He yelled to you, extending a clear plastic cup of what looked like beer to you. When your eyes trailed down to the bottom, though, you noticed it looked hazy, almost like there was something dissolving in it. 

Your eyes immediately went back to his face, trying to carve into your memory what he looked like. His hair was short and brown, his pale skin had a few divots from what you could only assume were acne scars. His clothes were loose and baggy. In all honesty, he looked out of place amongst all the metalheads, goths, punks, and other alternative people. A Vanilla Ice concert looked like it would have been more fitting for him and his bright red apparel. But what stood out to you most was the way his pupils were blown wide, almost as wide as his iris. It was apparent this man was on something. You didn’t know what it was but you could tell by how clear his eyes were that it wasn’t marijuana. 

“No!” You hollered back, turning away from the man and returning your attention to the band. 

“Awe, c’mon, sweetheart! It’s gonna go to waste and beer here is fucking expensive.” He whined, waving it out in front of your face. 

“Then why don’t you drink it?” You tested, eyebrow raising in a clear challenge. He was quickly getting on your nerves and you were feeling uneasy.

He laughed and shook his head, “Nah, this is some hipster shit that my friend liked. Miller Lite for me all the way. C’mon, just take the drink. Who turns down a free drink?” He swayed in a terrible attempt at some confident walk towards you, his free hand coming to rest on your elbow.

“People not trying to get drugged and raped, weirdo. Fuck off!” You shoved him back harshly by the chest, the open beer splashing a little onto his red shirt. 

He looked like he couldn’t even bother to be upset by the action, an oblivious smile never leaving his face, “Okay, okay! Geez! I’m only trying to be friendly. No need to be a bitch.” 

You rolled your eyes, the urge to lay this douchebag out here and now overwhelming. You weren’t going to give him the satisfaction though, Clearly, he wasn’t in a right state of mind. It was no excuse for how he was acting but you didn’t want to get any more involved. The best thing to do was to probably find a security guard and just let them know you were 99% sure there was a guy trying to roofie you and get his ass thrown out. 

When you didn’t respond, the guy got annoyed, thriving off the attention you were giving him. He reached out for your wrist when you moved a few feet away and your eyes immediately snapped to where his skin connected with yours. With a harsh snap of your wrist, you ripped it from his grip and shoved him with all your might, “Are you fucking stupid? I said fuck off!” 

The guy stumbled back this time, almost falling to the ground but he caught himself. Again, he took a few steps towards you and this time you were ready to swing. Enough of trying to be nice. This guy had deserved to have his shit rocked a while back and you were ready to oblige. 

Suddenly, a new guy stepped between the two of you, his large hand coming out to smack into the drugged out guy’s chest. “She said fuck off, buddy.” The British accent that left his lips surprised you and you stepped to the side to see the man who was standing up for you. 

You couldn’t hear what the drugged out guy had said over the pounding music but you could see his mouth move. The new mystery man’s jaw clenched though at whatever the words were and in a second he had thrown his right fist straight into the guy’s face. The offending suspicious beer flew in the air, splattering all over your clothes. 

You gasped in shock more than anything as the creep was on the ground being assaulted by this new British man. “Holy shit!” You exclaimed, stepping towards the brawling pair, trying to get your brain to work fast enough to think of something to do. Anything. 

The last thing you wanted to do was help the creep but you also felt bad that this new guy had gotten involved, though it was entirely by his own volition. You were nearly standing over the pair, hands itching to pull the British man off but not quite wanting to. If anything, it was more for his own sake. You wanted to protect the man who had stepped up to be your knight in… black leather. 

Before you actually made up your mind on what to do, the assaulting man had pulled back, grabbing the creep by his shirt and shoving him roughly towards the exit. “Come back and I’ll make sure you leave in a fucking ambulance.” He threatened menacingly, pointing a finger at him. 

Everyone else in the surrounding area looked over at the guy, shouting profanities and pushing him out of the main floor having seen everything go down. The drugged out man had a busted eyebrow and his nose was bleeding. He sniffled a little before throwing two middle fingers in the new man’s direction. The new man to your left only snorted a little and returned the sentiment. When the bloodied loser took a step towards the pair of you again, a massive man with long wavy brown hair and a beard to match, looking like he listened exclusively to Slipknot and Metallica, put an impressively muscular arm out to stop him, shoving him back. No words needed to be exchanged. The bloody man knew he’d been beat. With a disgruntled look, he turned on his heel and left. 

You let out a breath you hadn’t been aware you were holding, heart pounding in your chest from the pure exhilaration. “Are you okay?” You gently touched the British man’s arm, grabbing his attention. 

Your heart could have stopped when you actually got a good look at him. Not too tall but you could see his lean muscular frame beneath his loose black muscle tank top. Tattoos adorned almost every inch of skin you could see, covering his arms and torso. Relatively small black gauges stretched his lobes and small metal bars looped through his right eyebrow and the left side of his lower lip. It was difficult to see in the ever changing lights but you were pretty sure his hair was dark blue. 

He nodded, pulling his black denim pants up over his hips after the fight. “I’m fine,” He shrugged off with a casual air, “What about you? Are you okay?” 

You ran your fingers through your hair, still ever so slightly distressed. “Yeah, yeah. I’m alright. I just- thank you. You didn’t have to jump in like that.” 

“He had it comin’. The dude was being a fuckin’ creep. Sorry you had to deal with it.” He responded coolly, watching as you sort of shrugged in response. Something told him this wasn’t the first time you’d been in an uncomfortable situation like this which made him feel sorry for you. “You here with anybody?” 

“I came with my friend but she left a little bit ago. Thinks she has food poisoning or something. What about you?” You inquired, not noticing anyone around that seemed to be linked to him in any way. 

He shook his head, “Nope. Just me. I’m Tom by the way.” Tom held his hand out, ink art trailing about halfway down the top of his hand. 

You gripped it tightly and shook it, “Y/N.” 

“Well, Y/N, if you’re here alone too, I know I wouldn’t be opposed to adopting a concert buddy.” A cheeky smile appeared on his face that you just knew you couldn’t resist. You bit your lip as you laughed at his offer. 

“I think I could use a concert buddy too.” You agreed, trying to conceal the extent of your excitement. This had to be a dream, the sort of thing that only happens in slumber and romance novels. You, a girl being nearly drugged by some freak at a concert and ready to drop his ass at a moment's notice. Tom, a man seeing a woman being harassed and stepping in. Now, the both of you finding unlikely friends and moshing the night away to your favorite music. 

Tom, you’d learned, was a perfect gentleman. That was your favorite thing about people in the heavy metal community: they were either the nicest people you’d ever meet or the rudest. You were just grateful Tom had managed to fit in the former category. 

By the time the concert had ended, you were walking together out to the parking lot, a huge smile on your face, “That was awesome! Ahhh, I needed this. Thank you for making tonight a lot less crappy. You were a great concert buddy.” You sighed out a breath of relief, walking around with loose arms and turning around to face him while you walked backwards a few steps. 

He glanced over at you once he caught up close to you, “Yeah, I had a great time. I’m glad I could help turn the night around.” The pair of you stopped walking and you found yourselves just staring at each other in teenager-like adoration. 

It had been a long time since Tom had ever actually been wowed by someone. His last girlfriend had cheated on him and he’d be lying if he’d said it hadn’t made him paranoid when it came to women. Months had passed since then, almost a year if he thought about it. Of course, he’d seen other beautiful women over that time but there was just something about you that made him willing to put himself out there again. There was a fire in your eye when he watched you shove the guy earlier and rear back, ready to knock him on his ass. At first, Tom’s attempt at valor was simply to help someone out but when he actually got the chance to see you and speak with you, he was captivated by the way the lights danced in your eyes and the way your laugh lit up the evening. 

“Do you live in town?” You asked, looking up at him with big eyes. 

He nodded, the few strands of his blue hair that hadn’t been slicked down by sweat from jumping around so much earlier bouncing around with his movement, “Yeah, ‘bout fifteen minutes from here. You?” 

“Same here. Probably about twenty minutes that way.” You gestured up the road to your left and Tom glanced up that direction as well, as if he could actually see your apartment from this distance. 

Tom rubbed the back of his neck, his biceps flexing impressively as he did so, and glanced at the ground before looking back up to you, “I had a really good time with you tonight and, uh, I was wondering if maybe you’d want to get lunch or something some time?” 

His unsurety in his invitation was endearing and you couldn’t help but smile at the way his cheeks flushed red. You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I’d actually love to.” 

“Really?” His eyes lit up and his lips curled upwards. 

“Yeah, really.” You repeated, “I’m off tomorrow if you’re free?” 

He thought for a moment, trying to remember his schedule, “I don’t have to go in till four so I can do lunch tomorrow.” 

“It’s a date,” You finalize, watching as Tom, “Maybe I can get your number so we can actually figure out where we want to go?” You chuckle as you pull out your phone, unlocking it and handing it to him. 

Tom takes your phone and taps in his number, his face illuminated in the night by the light of the screen. He hands it back to you and a screeching of old brakes grabs your attention. You whip your head around to see a bus pull up at a stop you hadn’t noticed across the street but you recognize the number quickly as one of the routes that stops near your house. You hadn’t intended on taking the bus but it would be a hell of a lot cheaper than an Uber. “Shit, I gotta go. I’m so sorry. But it’s been great and I’ll be sure to text you so we can get tomorrow figured out.” 

You were already walking away, looking back and forth between the bus and Tom, suddenly stressed that you were having to leave him so soon. Tom watched you, putting together that you were suddenly freaking out about missing the bus. “You didn’t drive? Do you want a ride?” 

“What? Oh, no. Really, it’s fine. You’ve already put yourself out enough for me tonight. But I’ll catch you tomorrow?” You insisted, watching as the last few people boarded the bus in slight panic. 

“Please, let me give you a ride home. I’d feel better knowing you got home safe with me rather than riding the bus alone in the city in the middle of the night. I live that way anyways.” You sighed at his persistence, conflicted by his offer. On one hand, he was a stranger, even if you did spend the last few hours with him. On the other, he had fought a man on your behalf and then been nothing but kind to you all night. You even had a date set up with him tomorrow. 

It was probably against better judgement to leave with him, clearly the stories of Ted Bundy’s victims not resonating enough with you, but you agreed, “Thank you.” You relented finally, following him when he took a few steps towards the parking garage. You trailed beside him on the trip to his car, arriving at the clean black sedan. He opened the door for you and waved his arm in a dramatic yet chivalrous gesture you couldn’t help but giggle at. 

He closed the door beside you and, just for safety’s sake, you texted Lillia while Tom walked around the car towards the driver’s side. Getting a ride home from a new friend. If I die, his name is Tom and he drives a shiny black sedan. Maybe a Honda? Blue hair, tattoos, piercings. Beautiful and British. You genuinely didn’t believe you were really in any danger - if you did, you would never have gotten in the car - but it was always better to be safe than sorry. 

You got a text back almost immediately from Lillia, a picture of her makeup-less pale face with a shocked slack jaw. Girl! WHAT?! He sounds hot! Don’t even bother coming home! (But fr if you die, I’ll let the cops know). 

The door opened and Tom slid into the driver’s seat. The drive to your house was surprisingly comfortable considering the reality that you were still strangers. You talked about the basics of your lives. How old you were, what you did for a living, where you were from, things of that nature. You’d learned he was twenty-four, from a town near London, and currently working at a bar. He listened intently as you told the premise of your life. The conversation flowed naturally, as if you’d always been friends. 

“This is it, right here.” You pointed out the window at your little house you were renting with Lillia. The porch light was on and both yours and her cars were parked out front. Tom pulled off against the curb, his headlights illuminating the otherwise dark street. “Thank you again. For everything.” 

“If it takes getting in a fight for us to have met, it will have been worth it.” He confessed smoothly, loving the way you looked away shyly. It was the whole hearted truth though. While Tom hadn’t taken any real hits from the guy earlier, he gladly would have if it meant he got to spend the night with you. 

“Text me when you get home, yeah?” Your hand went to the door handle and pulled it, cracking the seal on the door. 

Tom pulled his open as well and stepped out onto the street, “I’ll walk you up.” He insisted. 

You were inwardly astounded as you watched Tom walk around the front of the car. Until tonight, you had been almost positive this level of gentlemanliness only existed in Hallmark movies and smutty romance novels written by fifty-year old women. Yet here Tom was, walking around like the most beautiful man you’d ever seen and pulling open the door for you. 

“Coming?” He asked with a teasing tone, peeking down at you. 

He stepped aside so you could exit the car and he shut the door behind you, walking you all the way to your front door and standing aside while you unlocked it. When the key finally turned, unlocking the mechanism, you spun to face him, wanting anything but to leave his side. It had been so long since you felt so immediately enamored by someone. 

“Where have you been all my life?” You breathed out in astonishment, probably looking like a dumbstruck puppy but you couldn’t have cared less.

Tom chuckled, “Um, London? And then here?” He responded with the two obvious answers, knowing it wasn’t what you were looking to hear but loving the way you rolled your eyes at him. 

“Well I hope I get to see more of you in my life.” Your eyes flicker up to meet his round chocolate ones. He’s so much more handsome than you ever could have imagined now that you could clearly see his face in the light. 

You were both so close to each other that it was difficult to look anywhere but each other’s eyes. “I hope so too.” The tension in the air was growing thicker by the second and your own eyes flicked down to his perfect lips before back up to his eyes. “May I kiss you?” He asked, his voice low and husky. 

You could only manage a small nod and a quiet whisper, “Yes…” 

Your lips met in a gentle kiss- one that wasn’t full of passion or aggression. It wasn’t sloppy and full of teeth. It was slow, deep enough to be felt but chaste enough to leave more to be desired. He didn’t try to push you at all but he left you wanting more. The slight coolness from his snake bite added just another sensation to this already fantasy-like moment. Tom’s eyes slid closed as he tried to just lose himself in the feeling of your soft lips against his own. 

You were speechless when you both finally pulled away, feeling like you were floating on cloud nine. How could something so pure and gentle feel like the most passionate magical thing you’d ever experienced? 

“I’ll text you tomorrow.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke, nearly against your lips. As much as he didn’t want to leave you, he didn’t want to overstay his welcome or make you feel pressured into anything. He had never been one for casual sex as it was and the last he wanted was to make you feel as if you needed to give yourself to him tonight. He took a few steps back and tucked his hands in his pockets before turning away. 

“When you get home!” You corrected as he took a few steps away. 

Tom breathed out a small laugh, “When I get home.” He agreed, “Have a good night, Y/N.” 

“Good night, Tom.” You watched him walk back to his car and waved at him one final time as he got into the driver’s seat and drove off down the street.