Ok what about tom posting a picture in his bathroom and in the picture you can see the two handprints on the shower stall where you were getting absolutely railed just a few moments ago, and the fans are talking about it on twitter and stuff lmao that would be so funny
ahahha i love your mind !! i had so much fun writing this. hope you like it x (requested part two - sleeping beauty)
in love with an idiot
word count: 893
warnings: slight smut, talk of impregnation, fluff, one booty grab, cursing, and tom being a div.
“Shit, darling.” He panted, reaching his climax. His cock twitching as he unloaded every drop deep into you. Your walls clenched around him, milking him as he painted them white.
The glass was foggy, due to the heat of your bodies and the water that streamed, soothing your sore muscles. Hands were pressed against the glass, along with your chest, as you both came down from your highs.
Once your breathing calmed, and bodies relaxed, Tom pulled out, a mix of arousals seeping out of your core. The sight was pure porn, causing Tom to groan. “If you aren’t pregnant now, I don’t think you’ll ever be.” He chuckled letting the water clean his body.
Your legs were shaky as you stood up straight. Tom wrapped his arms around you, supporting you as he pulled you close to place kisses on your cheek and temple. You giggled at the softness of your boyfriend. “Tommy, what’s your obsession with getting me pregnant. I told you, gotta put a ring on it first.”
He pouted at your statement. “Darling, I’m gonna marry you, but the thought of you pregnant with my kid- fuck.” He moaned against your ear.
You rolled your eyes, quickly cleaning your body with the water. For some reason, shower sex always happened after you went through your routine, too lazy to repeat the process, water would have to do.
Finished, you quickly turned off the jets exiting the shower, Tom following close behind. You grabbed a towel, drying the excess water off your body. Tom began to hum a tune, doing the same. You loved his voice but refused to admit it as you knew he was quite self-conscious about it.
Enjoying his soft voice, you were interrupted by your phone buzzing from the bedroom. You scurried to the sound, leaving Tom to his own demise. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he took a glance in the mirror. And he liked what he saw. He had bulked for a movie and now was cutting. Abs were defined as well as his pelvic bone. Knowing his fans would go crazy, he decided to tease the fangirls and boys with a quick and harmless thirst trap.
Grabbing his phone from the countertop, he opened up the Instagram app, posing in front of the mirror before taking a quick snap. He smirked while pressing the post button. Your voice rang from the other room, talking to a friend about some drama. He quickly fixed up his appearance, drying his hair with the towel before walking to join you in the bedroom.
You bit your lip, phone held up to your ear, not paying attention to your friend anymore as you watched his naked body stroll to the dresser. Unable to resist temptation, you gave a quick grab to his ass as he picked out sweats from the drawer. “Darling!”
A quick laugh slipped from your lips at his reaction before you placed your attention back on the conversation. The only words leaving your mouth were “really”, “no way” as your friend continued her rant. Tom got comfortable on the bed, waiting for your arrival. He watched as you tucked the phone between your ear and shoulder, multitasking as you began to get dressed.
“I will see you soon! Okay. Bye, bye.” You said as you hung up the call. Letting out a huff you threw your phone onto the bed. Tom spread his body, like a starfish, welcoming you to cuddle. You accepted, jumping into his arms. “Oof.” He grunted at the collision. “Lil baby. Weakling.” You mumbled.
Just as you were getting comfortable, Toms phone rang. “Its Harry.” He announced, answering it.
“Mate, how are you?” He quirked seeing the familiar red curls appeared on his phone.
“You are a fucking div.” Harry stated at the oblivious boy. “Yeah mate, you're a proper div.” Harrison's voice added.
“What are you on about?” Tom groaned at their insults. “What did he do now?” You interjected.
“Y/N, you promised you’d babysit him!” Harry exclaimed, causing Tom to furrow his eyebrows. “Babysit me? I don’t need a babysitter. You’re annoying me now Harry.”
“Check your IG.” And with that, he hung up.
You flipped around so your back rested against his chest, to have a better view of his phone. Tom did as told opening up the app, clicking on his new post. He immediately went to the comment section.
tomhollandlover1996: TOM AGSHSJKL NO. WHO IS THE LUCKY GIRL!????
jakegyllenhaal: It hurts to find out this way :( I’ll be sending your lawyers the divorce papers.
tuwaine: someone is having fun...
“Tom.” You growled, “What did you post?”
“I just posted a normal picture. Look!” He explained, showing you the pic. At first, your eyes were distracted by his physique but they widened when you noticed the background, jaw instantly dropped. You were in love with an idiot.
“Tom, the glass.” Tom's eyes snapped towards the area in question. “Oh fuck.” He mumbled, his features grimaced realising his mistake, preparing for your lecture.
“You can see the handprints– my tit prints as well. I, I am speechless. How– I mean. Fuck Tom.” You huffed in frustration, annoyed at his careless antics.
He cleared his throat trying to lighten the mood. “So, I guess I should introduce you to my fans. Maybe a cute appreciation post?”
summary: despite living in Tom's house, it feels more like he's just someone who visits when he happens to be in town--and tonight it's hitting you hard.
word count: 8,100
warnings: fluff. honestly disgustingly fluffy. long distance relationship. language. alcohol. soft af boyfriend tom.
divider
"You're still in bed?"
You stuck your tongue out at Tom, rolling your eyes at his rhetorical question. His phone was propped up against the mirror of whatever hotel bathroom he was staying in, and you were curled up under your sheets with your nose practically pressed to the screen just to soak up every bit of the sight. "Is there somewhere else I should be?" you retorted, and he chuckled.
He never quite sounded the same through the speaker on your phone. FaceTime was never quite enough, no matter how many times you told him otherwise--if it was all you could get, you would take it. You just wished you could have more. All you wanted was to feel him in your arms again.
He'd been gone for over a month already, and as you watched him pack up his life in whatever country he was currently in, you couldn't help but to resent the fact that he was not packing up to return to you. "No, of course not. Just surprised, s'all. You're normally up before the sun rises, darling. Are you feeling alright?" he asked, picking his phone up to study your image from a closer angle.
"M'fine, Tommy," you told him, and your heart warmed as his gentle brown eyes flitted all around his phone screen to look at every pixel that made up your face, "just miss you."
Tom's lips spread into a bittersweet smile at your words, and you found yourself smiling back thoughtlessly. It never did take much for him to cheer you up. "I miss you more, (Y/N)." he pouted.
You narrowed your eyes playfully and warned, "You don't want to play this game with me, Thomas. I'll win."
Slipping the blankets over the lower half of your face to hide how you frowned as he set his phone back down, disappearing from frame briefly, you breathed in the faint traces of his scent that still lingered. How many nights had it been since he'd slept in this room? You'd lost count, and that meant it had been far too many.
No matter how many times he left and came back, left and came back, left and came back--you never could quite get used to the feeling of loneliness that permeated your life during his away periods. It had been three years since you'd handed your heart over to him; three years of watching him haul it all around the world a million times over whilst you waited patiently for him to bring it back to you. Sometimes it seemed like he took your home with him, too.
Did he leave his with you? You liked to think so, to think that he left his heart safe at home with you to be protected and cherished, but how could he? How could someone as warm, kind, and loving as him ever go without his heart?
Just as your mind started to wander into the strange places it went whenever Tom went away, he clattered his way back into view with his empty suitcase. "Really wish you were here to help me, love." he groaned, "I hate packing."
"Now I see why you really love me," you teased, "you just want me for my extraordinary organizational skills."
Tom grinned, clearly pleased to see you being more chipper, and jabbed back, "Amongst other things, yeah. I also want you for your cooking--can't forget that."
You barked a laugh that had him in stitches, and the sight of his beaming smile with the crinkles at the corners of his eyes made you feel warm all over. "Well, one of us has to be good for something useful. All you're good for is... fuck, I can't think of anything--"
"Hey!"
"--you're bad at. Let me finish, Tom, damn." you cackled, and his cheeks reddened slightly, "I try and compliment you and you interrupt me."
Tom's smile faded slightly as he watched you laugh until you were dabbing at the corners of your eyes, flicking away the little tears that gathered. "I really miss you." he sighed, "So, so fucking much."
Your giggles trailed off as you watched his face slowly morph into that of a pitiful, dejected little boy. All his sadness and longing was written across his forehead for you to see, and it made you swoon yet ache to see. It was touching, really, to see how much he missed you--but you hated to see him looking so distressed.
Usually it was you who ended a cheerful moment like the one you'd just been in on a more sorrowful note by getting lost in your head, but you could see that this trip in particular was hitting Tom harder than usual. He'd been more persistent in being sure to speak at least once a day, even going so far as to interrupt his filming schedule just to block an hour each day for you. You'd hoped he'd be able to push through it, but now you weren't so sure.
The difference between your sorrow and his, was that Tom wasn't just missing you. Each time he went away, he left his entire life behind. You, Tessa, his parents, his brothers, his friends, his home--he left it all behind. It was hard enough to go without him alone, but to go without all those you held near and dear for weeks and months on end? Anyone was likely to crack under the pressure.
"I miss you too, Tommy." you murmured, cooing when you saw him wipe his eye roughly with the back of his hand when he thought you couldn't see, "Hey, don't cry. It's gonna be okay. You'll be home before you know it."
Tom sniffed and jutted out his lower lip, the puffy pink wobbling slightly as he curled up on the floor of the hotel bathroom and held his phone close to his face. His eyes were all blurry with unshed tears, nose turning red at the tip, and your heart was positively shattered. "I still have a whole month on the junket." he grumbled, digging the heel of his hand into his eye with a frustrated groan.
He always hated crying in front of you, afraid of seeming weak or pathetic, but now he was really struggling to hold all the emotion at bay. "You've been away for longer before," you reminded him, "and we made it, yeah?"
Sniffing again, he croaked, "Yeah."
"Then we can make it through one more month, Tom. It's gonna go by so fast, I promise, and I'll be right here waiting for you when you finally get home. Maybe I'll even be naked--"
Tom giggled, a feeble and broken sound that sputtered from between his trembling lips, and hummed, "As much as I'd like that, I think it's frowned upon to go to the airport naked."
It was a weak joke, but it was something. The tears stopped blooming in his eyes and his sniffles were quieting, and he wasn't trying to hide his face from you anymore. You really loved his face. The faint freckles and little dots from fading acne scars, the subtle creases around his eyes and lips from smiling so damn much, the ruffle in his eyebrow--all of it was like the most beautiful piece of artwork you'd ever seen.
Eventually, after a lot of coaxing from you and quite a few texts from his cast mates about running late, Tom finally continued packing. He set his phone up against the bathroom cabinets and you tried your best to instruct him on how to pack like you did, but after many curses he gave up. You watched on with a grimace as he stuffed his clothing into the suitcase haphazardly, having to sit on it to zip it up.
All too soon it was time for him to go, and now you were the one holding back tears and sniffling like a child. "Remember, I won't be able to talk before you go to bed. I'll be on the plane." he reminded you, and you pouted.
"I remember," you muttered, "s'gonna suck."
Tom gave you a stern look as he remarked, "Weren't you just the one who was saying this next month is going to go by super fast?"
Throwing him a scowl, you sulked, "Not fast enough, though. I don't have to keep up appearances--I can be as sulky and mopey as I'd like, thank you very much."
He couldn't hold back the little smile that quirked at the corners of his lips, amused by your rambling. The two of you could have kept on talking all day about nonsense, filling the hours with endless meaningless jargon, but there was a faint knock on his door that told you he really needed to go. Taking a deep, slow breathe, Tom forced a smile as he said, "I'll be back before you know it, darling. I love you."
"I love you more." you whispered back, giving him a tearful smile just to end the call on a more positive note, "See you soon, Tommy." It never hurt any less each time his face disappeared to reveal your pitiful expression reflecting back at you.
Tom's soft breathing warmed the skin of your neck, his lips ever so slightly caressing the soft skin with every exhale. It was like a drug; the sensation of his fingers, his hands, his lips, his touch on your skin was addicting. You never could get enough, and even a second without that connection made you feel touch starved.
The two of you laid buried beneath the covers in bed, his head somewhere between your chest and shoulder and his arms holding you as if you were he only thing keeping him from drifting away from that place. His messy brown curls were tickling your cheek, occasionally poking your eye and making you squirm, but you wouldn't have had it any other way. You couldn't get close enough to him.
"You're so warm," he mumbled, softly pressing a kiss against the same skin his lips had been teasing for some time, "never wanna leave you."
Too bad he had to leave you in approximately twelve hours. It was getting late and you both had to be up early in the morning to take him to the airport, but you knew there wasn't a single chance you'd be getting any sleep that night. Even if he managed to close his eyes and slip into whatever fantasies he dreamed up at night, you wouldn't be able to tear your eyes off of him for even a second.
It probably looked a little creepy just how much you were staring, but you knew that Tom didn't mind it. If anything, he found it endearing, and you often found him staring back--two lovers simply admiring each other in comfortable silence. Because, in all honesty, there was plenty to be admired in Tom; so much that you felt there'd never come a day where you wouldn't find something new about the man to adore.
The temperature was sweltering and you were sweating amidst all the layers of your clothes, and Tom, and Tom's clothes, and the blankets, but it was too precious of a moment to move away. You didn't want to lose his touch for even a moment, not even to remove a few pesky layers from the two of you. How could you forego his embrace now, when tomorrow you'd be without it for months?
He'd gone away plenty of times before, and many of those had been for far longer than he was to leave tomorrow. Six months here, a year there, nary a moment in between to even breathe--what was three months compared to that? Something was just different this time, and you couldn't quite put your finger on what or why.
Tom's lips ghosted over the sensitive skin of your neck again, and you shivered. "Maybe I could try and find time to come and visit this time." you pondered aloud, relishing in the quiet hum of appreciation and the sweet kiss he gave in return, "Haven't done that in awhile. Could be nice, yeah?"
"S'always nice to see you." he replied, and the tip of his nose felt like ice on your flesh as he pushed his face deeper into the crease between your shoulder and neck, "Just don't know when I'll have time to actually see you if you do."
As much as it stung and as much as you wanted to whine, you knew it was true. Film schedules were grueling and Tom barely ever had time to sleep when he was working on them, let alone find time to squeeze you into an already overpacked schedule. Still, you would have done it.
Carding your fingers through his curls, you sighed, "I wouldn't mind even if the only time I got to see you was when you were asleep." Smiling to yourself, you added, "I'd probably even sleep all day just so I could stay up and watch your pretty face while you dream."
Tom pulled away, propping up on his elbows to look you in the eye with an amused smirk as he teased, "I think that's the creepiest thing you've ever said to me, (Y/N)."
You rolled your eyes and opened your mouth in a scoff, but he silenced you with the soft press of his lips over yours. It was awkward and your mouths didn't quite line up right, his lips curling around your lone upper lip as his chin jutted into your opened mouth, but it was Tom and that made it perfect in your eyes. Adjusting, eyes fluttering shut in bliss, you kissed him back tenderly.
Every time was like the first time, over and over again. Those butterflies always swarmed your gut, twisting your belly up and knots and causing your heart to hammer against your ribs relentlessly. He always made you want to pop your foot--giddy and gooey all over like a teenager in love for the first time, experiencing that first mind blowing kiss each and every instance his lips touched yours.
There was nothing lustful about it in that moment. His soft lips moving with yours, curling your toes and making your cheeks ache from holding back a smile, and his gentle hands gliding expertly over your body. A tender squeeze of your hip, a breezing caress over your arm, a flutter of his fingers along the side of your neck and up your chin. Finally, like always, his hand came up to cup your cheek and tilt your face just the way he liked until he sighed into your kiss in absolute heaven.
Neither one of you was thinking of sex, or even remotely interested in taking things anywhere beyond the lazy glide of his tongue against your own. It wasn't hot, desiring, or lustful--it was warm, comforting, and peaceful. You, wrapped up in Tom as his thumb grazed over the plump apple of your cheek, his eyelashes ghosting over your skin as you tasted his lips all over your own. There was nowhere in the world you'd rather have been than right there.
He sighed, and you hummed in euphoria as you curled his lower lip into yours the way you knew he loved. Your hands clung to his hoodie, pulling him in deeper until his body was flush with yours and he gave up on hovering over you like he always did. Always so worried about smothering you, but you loved it; you loved the feeling of his weight over you, grounding you and holding you in place.
Satisfied with feeling all of him, you kept one hand at the base of his spine while the other trailed up. Tracing your fingers over the arch of his back, feeling his subtle shiver in pleasure, up and up and up. You found home in the curls at the base of his skull and wound your fingers in expertly, pulling gently and letting the silken strands soothe your skin delightfully.
"I love you." he murmured, separating only for a fleeting moment to stare down at you with heavy-lidded eyes and puffy lips. His cheeks were flushed, his brown irises peaking out at you from behind the long curl of his lashes, and oh, his lips. HIs perfectly imperfect, thin, pink lips were swelled to plump perfection, glistening in the faint light of the room. It was like looking at the world's finest work of art.
You held him there for a few moments, tracing the lines of his face with the tips of your fingers. The faint wrinkles in his skin from years of smiling so big, the swollen ridge of his cupid's bow, the crooked angle of his nose that was nothing short of masterful in your eyes. His one ruffled brow, the slope of his forehead, and the sharp line of his jaw. Every bit of his face was ingrained in your mind forever; the sight, the touch, all of it.
His thumb moved from your cheek to your own lips, padding at your own puffy lower lip adoringly. Catching the print of the digit with your lips in a fleeting kiss, you watched as his eyes fell shut in contentment. A small smile tugging across his cheeks, Tom's eyes opened again to stare down at you as if he were holding the entire world at his fingertips.
Nuzzling your cheek into the warm palm of his hand, still opened and caressing your face, you whispered, "I love you, Tom."
He gazed down at you with a love that burned so bright, so intense, so boldly that it made you want to weep. Never before had anyone looked at you the way Tom did, and before him you'd imagined such a look only existed in romance novels. No man could ever look at his lover as if they were his world, his sun, his moon, his stars, and everything in between--and yet, Tom did. He looked at you as if you were everything, and you could get lost in that stare forever.
There was a vastness to his appreciation that you could never quite comprehend, but you hoped he could see the same in your eyes. You hoped he could see your heart screaming all the same back to him, all of your love pouring out of you and into him for eternity. You hoped he knew just how loved he was by you.
"We should probably go to sleep." You acknowledged, lips tingling at the soft brush of his fingertip with every syllable.
Tom hummed quietly in acknowledgement, his eyes briefly flitting to the clock on your bedside table before finding home in your gaze again. "I can sleep on the plane." he stated, "Don't wanna waste a single minute I have left with you."
Your face grew hot at his words, a grin splitting your cheeks as your heart burst to life with excitement. You knew that he'd probably end up falling asleep at some point--and you probably should have too considering you were the one driving to and from the airport in the morning--but you both certainly were going to do your best to avoid it. "And if I go to sleep?" you posed, blinking up at him playfully.
"Then I guess I'll take a page out of your book and admire your beautiful face while you dream," he responded, eyes twinkling mirthfully, "like a psychopath."
The two of you devolved into laughter, Tom's body slowly sinking further into yours as he lost the strength to hover over you amidst his belly-aching cackling. His forehead found respite on yours, noses brushing and bumping one another, and you clung to each other desperately. You'd miss this the most; these moments of just existing together in harmony.
It was warm and light whenever he was home, and each time he left you felt a peculiar cold that chilled you to the bone. No amount of layering, blankets, or anything could warm you up. You knew it was just the physical reminder of his absence, but it was the worst feeling.
Nose still brushing the tip of your own, Tom's brown eyes softened into warm amber pools as he got lost in your appearance. "Promise you'll still be here when I get back?" he asked, and your belly twisted painful. He looked like a sad puppy, his eyes big and watery to match the timid curl of his lips.
"I'll always be here, Tom," you told him, and you meant it, "Why would you ask me such a thing?"
His eyes fell shut for a moment as he took a deep, shuddering breathe, "I just--I'm always worried you're going to wake up one day and realize you deserve more. You could be with someone who'll actually be here with you... someone who doesn't have to leave all the time--"
"I don't want anyone else," you interrupted, speaking sternly, "don't sell yourself short, Tom. It's part of your job to leave, and I understand that. I'm always going to be here because I know that no matter how far you go, or how long you're gone, you're going to come back to me. That's why I love you."
"But you deserve so much more than just a promise that I'll be back." he murmured, his head tilting down in shame.
Hands cupping his cheeks, you kept his face from turning away from yours. "Do you love me?" you asked, raising your eyebrows expectantly until he nodded, "Do you want me to stay?"
"More than anything."
You traced your thumbs over his cheeks, his head subconsciously tilting further into a subtle caress, "Well, I love you and I want to stay. That's all that matters--I don't care if you leave for ten years, Tom, if you still want me to be here, I will be."
The violent buzz of your phone against your cheek startled you awake, and you sat up frightfully. Your vision was blurry, drool streaming down your chin, and your head was swimming from the sudden movement. Swiping the back of your hand over your chin, you grabbed your phone and groggily answered the call, "Hello?"
"(Y/N)! Where are you?"
Blinking, you pulled your phone away from your ear to make out Harrison's name on the screen. "At home?" you responded, eyes flickering to the window to see it was dusk outside.
You hadn't intended on falling asleep, nor did you remember doing so, but the entire day had apparently passed by during your nap. "You forgot, didn't you?" Harrison tutted, and you furrowed your brows in confusion.
"Forgot what?"
He let out an exasperated sigh, "You said you'd come to the pub tonight! We've been here for an hour already."
Oh, right, the pub. Vaguely you remembered Harrison inviting you to join him, the twins, and Tuwaine at the pub the other night when they were all over for dinner and a video call with Tom. You'd wanted to refuse, knowing you'd probably spend the night wallowing in self pity, but the man himself had pushed you to agree before finally doing it on your behalf.
It wasn't that you weren't close with them, because you were--hell, sometimes you got on better with Sam than you did Tom. But, the nights without him by your side were always the hardest. You weren't exactly in the mood for a wild night out, knowing ho much your stomach would sink returning to an empty home and a cold bed.
Yet, already seeing Tom's distasteful pout should you have backed out, you found yourself grumbling, "Shit, sorry. I'll be there soon."
After repeatedly assuring Harrison that you were in fact getting ready and would be there soon, he finally hung up and let you attempt to pump yourself up enough to not look miserable in public. Normally you functioned decently when Tom was gone; you loved him and missed him dearly, but you were still a fully functioning adult who could get by on their own. But today, though, knowing Tom was flying a little further away and wouldn't even be able to call you until tomorrow, you really weren't in the best of moods.
His momentary slip earlier that day during which he had cried had really thrown you off. You hated to see him so sad, and it made you feel even worse to know he was probably feeling just as miserable as you were, if not even more so. Before you'd fallen asleep you'd had to talk yourself out of booking a flight to see him. It wasn't exactly in your budget to buy a last minute ticket, and you knew it would only make him stress if you suddenly showed up with no warning.
As you walked into the pub, you plastered on your best smile and greeted Harrison with a hug. "I can't believe you forgot about us!" Sam shouted over the loud chatter of the bar, shoving the blonde away hastily to swoop you into his own embrace, "How've you been, (Y/N)?"
Your smile faltered at the earnest, inquisitive tone of his hushed question, but you pulled it back before he could really see how much you were struggling. "Good, you?" you asked, shifting the attention off of yourself as you held him an arms length away and studied him closely, "Did you get a new shirt?"
Sam grinned cheerfully, "I did! You like it?"
Before you could answer, Harry was throwing his arms around your middle and heaving you off of the floor for half a second with a loud holler, "How's my favorite almost in-law?"
Yelping at the sudden impact, you punched his shoulder the moment he stepped away and bit back a loud laugh as he swayed slightly. "Are you already trashed?" you chuckled, raising an eyebrow as he coughed to hide a hiccup, "You are! Harry, what's gotten into you?"
San caught Harry's arm before he could stumble a little too far and fall on his face, throwing the limb over his own shoulders and helping him stand up straight as he swiped the pint from his twin's hand. Harry pouted, reaching for hit, but Sam was quick to hand it off to you. He whined as you brought the half empty glass to your lips and took a sip, smirking at him teasingly as you kept it away from him.
Slowly the three of you migrated through the crowded pub after you finished Harry's half-empty pint and ordered another for yourself, eventually falling onto the stools around a more secluded table by Harrison and Tuwaine. Harrison was still snubbing you jokingly for being late, but Tuwaine greeted you with a warm smile and a cheers of his glass to your own. That ended with all five of you clinking your glasses together with muffled cheers, beer sloshing onto your fingertips as Harry shoved just a little too hard.
As the night drew on, you relaxed into the atmosphere--though, the alcohol probably helped. You didn't have to fake your smiles anymore, and you weren't consumed with thoughts of the fact that your home would be empty still when you returned. Instead, you were happily chatting with your closest friends about all that had been going on in their lives lately.
Tuwaine cracked jokes and told all of you about his crazy experience the other day with one of Tom's fans, putting you all in stitches as he mimicked her loud shouting. Harrison talked about an upcoming photoshoot he had planned with some brand, and Harry was animatedly discussing all the different auditions he was planning on going to. He'd sobered up quite a bit since you'd arrived, but that was probably because you all kept swiping his pints whenever he wasn't looking. He hadn't seemed to notice, yet.
Sam told you about all the different recipes he'd been trying out, and you nearly drooled at the thought of some of them. Somehow, someway, you all made plans to have another dinner party the following weekend, before Tuwaine slipped, "--and Tom can... shit, I keep forgetting he's gone for another month."
The mood shifted to a more somber one, and you noticed the way they all slumped into their seats slightly. It made you feel a little better to see that they missed him just as much as you did, and you smiled when Harrison joked, "Don't let him find out you forgot about him, you might put a dent in his massive ego."
"One time I forgot to text him good morning and he pouted for two weeks."
All four men cracked up at your words, and you felt at ease to see the happy tone of the night returning. "I remember him freaking out about that," Sam sputtered, laughing and clapping a hand to your shoulder, "the div actually asked me to go and check up on you to make sure you were alive. Then you told him you forgot and he complained about it for ages. Did you know he really thought that meant you wanted to break up with him?"
You cooed, "Really? Now I kind of feel bad--"
"Don't," Tuwaine interrupted, laughing, "he's just a drama queen. It's an actor thing, remember?"
The night slowly devolved into a massive tell all about Tom. At first, you all went around howling over all the embarrassing things Tom had done, exchanging the stories like Pokemon cards to brag about, and they all had you in stitches. By the time the conversation shifted to just reminiscing on good memories about the brown eyed man, your sides were aching and you felt more than a little out of breathe.
It was like story time for children; each one of you going around the circle to share a story that popped into your head. Sam and Harry reminisced on tales from their childhood, and Harrison and Tuwaine chimed in with stories of their friendship before you'd met Tom. You talked a lot about all the amazing times you'd had with Tom and the guys together, but as their eyes turned to you again your memory drifted away to the last time you'd picked him up from the airport.
The airport was ridiculously crowded, and as much as you wanted to think it was just a busy travel day, you knew the truth. Those people, most of them anyways, weren't there to catch a flight or pick up a returning traveler. They were there for the same man you were--for Tom.
As you walked inside, you could see the crowds of fans being held back by rows of metal blockades and scattered security guards. They were fairly chill, for the moment, but a few of them spotted you and waved excitedly as a murmur slowly spread throughout, "Is that (Y/N)?"
"Oh my God, it is! He must be landing soon!"
"(Y/N), can we get a picture?"
"(Y/N)! Come talk to us!"
You waved at them hesitantly, though you didn't approach them. As much as you knew that most of Tom's fans were incredibly sweet and supportive, there were also quite a few of them who weren't so nice. Especially when it came to you, the one who stole him away in their eyes, they could get quite nasty sometimes.
Still, you waved to those who acknowledged you and did your best to smile as though you weren't starting to sweat nervously. Phones and cameras alike were flashing and snapping pictures of you, all of which would certainly end up all over social media, and you eventually busied yourself with your phone to try and shield your eyes from the sunbursts of light. Checking his text one more time, you acknowledged that there was only ten minutes left until his flight would deplane.
Those were probably the longest ten minutes of your life, though you probably felt that way each time you picked him up from a flight. This time, though, he'd been gone for nearly eight months with only one short weekend visit. It would have been an understatement to say you were over the moon to finally have him back for an extended period of time.
As the minutes ticked by, you grew considerably more antsy, and so did the fans. The murmur steadily rose in volume until you could no longer hear the overhead speakers, nor your own phone on full volume. It was the vibration that alerted you to Tom's call.
"(Y/N)?" he greeted, and you could barely hear him over all the talking and excited squeals, "Never mind, I can tell you're here--I'm getting my bags now."
He hung up, and the moment you took a step toward the gate the fans were screaming. "He's here! He's here! Do you see him?"
"I can't see him!"
"Wait, I think that's him!"
It was like time stood still when he came into view, the sound of the excited screaming fading into the distance as all you could focus on was him. He looked exhausted, a tired smile on his lips and slight bags under his eyes, but the moment his gaze met yours he lit up. He picked up his pace, but you were already running to him.
"Tom!" you yelled, and he dropped his bags just in time to catch you from falling as you crashed into him full force. Normally the two of you waited until you'd reached the car for any sort of affection, not fans of public displays considering his status, but you missed him too much to care. All you cared about was feeling his touch again, finally.
He hugged you just as fiercely, his arms holding you so tight you could barely breathe and his face burying into your shoulder. "Fuck, I missed you so much, darling." he groaned, and nuzzled his nose into your neck.
Your hands clung to his jacket, keeping him close as he brought his own up to cup your cheeks, tilting your head back until he could admire your face. "I missed you too, Tom." you whimpered, holding back tears of happiness, "Can we not be apart for that long ever again?"
He laughed, but he nodded desperately as he choked out, "Never. I hated that so much."
The fans were still shouting, yelling frantically for Tom to notice them and even screeching about your sudden moment of public affection, but neither of you cared at all. His warm brown eyes were pulling you in like a magnet, and you clutched his jacket collar more tightly as he captured your lips in a kiss. It was frantic and needy, desperate for closeness in a way that was definitely not suitable for such an audience, but you kissed him back just as feverishly.
His lips moved quickly against yours, his tongue finding its way in between to make you melt into him entirely. Groaning in pleasure, your hands wound up his neck to fist his hair tightly, and he hummed back as you tugged gently. Knowing it was getting far too heated for the public eye, Tom eased back and scattered fluttering pecks over the entirety of your face until you dissolved into a fit of giggles.
Knowing he could never leave without at least greeting his fans, you grabbed his bags and gave him one last peck on the lips. "Go, they've been waiting to see you." you told him, smiling reassuringly when he hesitated, "I'll go get the car packed up."
"I love you." he grinned, gently caressing his fingers over your cheek.
Content to finally have him back, and loving how positively radiant he became when having the chance to see his fans, you beamed back, "I love you more."
You'd only just started the car up after having struggled to get all of his heavy bags inside before Tom knocked on the passenger window, leaning down to lazily smile at you through the glass. He practically fell into the seat after you unlocked the doors to let him in, his hands rubbing at his eyes. You knew he was tired from the way he willingly let you drive, rather than pestering you relentlessly to let him get in the drivers seat.
Still, he mumbled, "Need to go and see my parents."
"I think you could use a nap first, Tom." you joked, patting his thigh before he caught your hand in his and held it firmly in his lap. It was a little awkward driving with one hand, but you didn't say anyting--you loved the warm feeling of his thumb sliding back and forth over the tops of your fingers.
He grumbled a denial, insisting on seeing his parents before going to bed, but before you'd even made your way out of the maze of a car park he'd fallen asleep. His hand was dead weight on yours, growing clammy as he started to sweat in his sleep like always, and his head lolled against the window with a dull thump. It happened every time; he never did sleep on his flights home, too excited over seeing you, Tessa, his family, and his friends again. Too excited to finally be home after so long spent away.
As you drove, your eyes continually flickered over to admire him. He looked so peaceful in his sleep. A faint smile twitched at his lips, the pink skin occasionally parting to let out a quiet snore, and his eyebrows rolled through various expressions as he began to dream. Occasionally his fingers would clasp your own, squeezing your hand weakly for a few seconds before falling limp again.
You often wondered what he dreamed about. It was hard not to grow curious from how expressive he was, even in his sleep, and sometimes you wondered if he dreamed of you. Every now and then, late at night on the occasions you happened to stay awake later than him, he'd begin to murmur quietly in his sleep. One time he'd whispered your name so clearly you'd held your breathe in fear that he'd caught you staring, but then he'd continued his incoherent rambling and you'd melted.
He didn't even wake up when you parked the car outside the house, continuing to snore into a deeper and deeper sleep as you fought to get his bags out of the car and into the house. You didn't want to wake him, knowing he was beyond exhausted and would probably fight going back to sleep tooth and nail, but you couldn't exactly leave him in the car. Well, you could have, but he probably wouldn't have been too happy about it when he woke up.
Finally getting his bags inside, you gently opened the passenger door and caught his head against your body before he tumbled out of the seat. "Tommy," you cooed, running your fingers through his hair and biting back a giggle as he whined in his sleep, "Tom, wake up. We're home."
"Need to see my parents," he garbled, the words all slurred in his half asleep state, "before I go to sleep."
You couldn't stop yourself from laughing that time, a quiet chuckle escaping your lips as you traced your fingers over his nose tenderly and across the swell of his cupids bow. "C'mon, Tommy, we can go see your parents later. Let's go have a nap, yeah?"
His lips lazily pressed into your fingers, kissing the delicate tips gently as he peeled his eyes open to blink up at you adoringly. "Will you cuddle me?" he asked, pouting sleepily.
Softly kissing his forehead and beaming when his eyes fluttered at the tender affection, you murmured, "Of course, you just have to make it to the sofa, okay?"
"M'kay." Tom hummed, and you couldn't even be annoyed when you had to practically carry him into the house.
"Oh my God," Tuwaine chortled, startling you out of your trip down memory lane, "that was a field day in the press. I remember Tom was so freaked out over all the photos in magazines, do you remember that?"
The rest of the boys all laughed as they reminisced on how stressed Tom had been trying to put out the fire with his PR team, but you smiled fondly at the memory. It had been an absolute nightmare going anywhere together or even alone for weeks afterward, but it had been worth it--that kiss was still one of your favorite memories with Tom. Plus, there was no point in hiding your affections any longer after that, so that had been a bonus.
Harrison launched into another story, and Sam caught your eye over the top of Harry's head. "You alright?" he mouthed, and you nodded, "Want me to walk you home?"
You nodded again, realizing just how tired you were. Hours had passed with the five of you just talking endlessly, and you'd lost count of how many drinks you'd had. Too many, apparently, because you stumbled slightly when you slid out of your stool and had to clutch the table to keep from toppling over.
"Damn, (Y/N), are you good?" Tuwaine questioned, and you grumbled quietly, "Are you leaving?"
Sam caught your arm gently and wrapped his own around you, letting you lean on him for support as he answered, "Yeah, I'm going to go with. You staying here, or going to head out too?"
Harrison stood too, throwing back the last of his pint before clapping his hands, "I think I'll go home, actually. Didn't realize how late it was."
Before you knew it, all five of you were stumbling out onto the street with swimming heads and hushed giggles as you tried to appear as sober as possible. None of you were drunk, except maybe Harry, but you'd had enough to certainly get you all loose and warmed up. You were somewhere beyond tipsy, but hadn't quite crossed into drunken territory yet.
With hugs and muttered farewells, you all separated as Harry, Harrison, and Tuwaine marched off in one direction whilst you and Sam turned in the opposite. You didn't live far, and you didn't exactly need a chaperone, but you were thankful for his company as he walked steadily beside you. It was nice not being alone, especially when you knew you'd be completely alone at home for another night.
All too soon he was helping you up your front steps, laughing as you struggled to get the key into the lock and taking them from your fumbling hands. "Are you really that drunk?" he joked, and you punched his shoulder.
"No," you stuck your tongue out, "it's just... dark."
Sam laughed even louder at your lame excuse, unlocking the door easily and ushering you inside before him. He turned on a few lights for you as you leaned against the wall to kick off your shoes, eventually returned as you finally straightened up, "Can you make it to bed on your own?"
You nodded, though if you were honest you weren't so sure, but he seemed to accept your answer as the truth. "I'll be okay. Thank you for walking me, Sam. I had a lot of fun tonight."
He pulled you into another gentle hug, hands firm on your shoulders as he leaned back to tell you, "You know you can always come to me if you need anything, right? You're one of my best friends, (Y/N), and I know you're a lot more stressed about Tom being gone than you let on."
"I know," you whispered, blinking rapidly to stop your eyes from filling with tears, "it's hard. I'll be okay, though, he's going to be back soon."
Staring at you for a moment in silence, probably waiting to see if you would break down, Sam sighed in relief when you gave him the best reassuring smile you could manage. You were okay; it was just the alcohol making you emotional. "Good. Text me tomorrow, okay? Good night, (Y/N)."
In an instant, he was gone and you were alone in the silent house again. It wasn't until you were in bed and listening to the rhythmic dial tone that the tears finally came, and you choked up as Tom's voicemail started to play, "I know it's you, (Y/N), because nobody else ever calls me. Sorry I missed you darling, but if you're not (Y/N)--"
"At the tone, please record your message."
The shrill tone beeped in your ear, and you were silent for a long moment. You knew you had to say something, anything really, otherwise Tom would panic when he landed and assume the worst. But what was there to say?
Your lips started moving before you even thought the words, "Hey, Tommy."
Curling around his pillow like a koala, you let your phone lay on your cheek as you nestled deeper into the blankets and wrapped yourself up in the faint scent of him that still lingered. "I didn't mean to call, but I just wanted to hear your voice and I knew you'd panic if I didn't leave a message." you continued, "I'm okay--well, if I'm honest, I'm a little drunk right now... but I'm okay."
"Anyways, I just really miss you." you sighed, closing your eyes as your lips trembled, "I don't know why it's been so hard this time, but it has. I miss you so much, and I'm laying in bed but it feels too big without you here. Your pillow doesn't really smell like you anymore, which sucks, and I'm about to steal one of your shirts to use as a pillowcase. Is that creepy? Am I being weird right now?"
Chuckling to yourself, you groaned, "Sorry, I'm rambling. How long can these messages even be? Am I going to be cut--"
"Voice message recorded. Please hang up and dial again."
Cursing to yourself, you blinked at the painfully bright screen of your phone and redialed his number. "I know it's you, (Y/N), because nobody else ever calls me. Sorry I missed you darling, but if you're not (Y/N)--"
The automated message played, followed by the beep, and you muttered, "Sorry, I got cut off. I went out with the boys tonight, and we talked about you for hours. It was nice, actually, and I'm glad you made me go; I think I really needed the company. They probably won't ever tell you, but I know they miss you too."
"If you think I'm smashed, you should have seen Harry," you giggled to yourself, rolling on your back as you continued to speak into the void until a yawn interrupted you, "okay, I'm drunk and really tired. I should probably go to bed so I don't miss your call in the morning... uh, yeah."
You stifled another yawn and chuckled sleepily, "I love you, Tommy, and I miss you. Talk to you tomorrow, okay? Good night--er, well, good morning to you, I think? Shit, I love you, bye."
The feeling of soft lines being traced over your face lulled you awake, and you mumbled groggily, "G'way."
"If that's what you really want, darling."
Eyes snapping open, you gaped up at the blurry face staring down at you in the darkness. "Tom?" you gasped, leaning up and nearly knocking your forehead against his nose, "What are you doing here? How did you--when did you--what?"
Tom chuckled, easing down onto the bed beside you and curling his arms around you slowly. If you hadn't felt the familiar tingle of warmth in your belly at his touch you'd have assumed you were dreaming, but then his gentle breathe fanned over your neck and you knew it was real. "I missed you too, a lot. I moved some things around and got a few days off--unless, of course, you still want me to go away." he teased, and you scowled despite the smile that was fighting at your lips.
"Never." you pouted, melting into his side and resting your head on his chest, "How long are you here for?"
The steady rise and fall of his chest was quickly lulling you back to sleep, but you managed to stay awake to hear him whisper, "Just a few days, but I had to see you. I missed you too much. Go back to sleep, darling--we can talk in the morning." His lips pressed a firm, long kiss to the top of your head as his fingers trailed a slow line up your spine, and your eyes fluttered shut.
Sleepily, you murmured, "Promise you'll still be here?"
Umm soooo, my town just happens to be right under a lighting storm current and knocked out my power; may I please requests blurb of boyfriend!tom trying to navigate the house in the dark on his way to fix the power because he thinks he knows everything LOL and ends a little smutty at the end because the boys can’t see what their doing🤣
There was no harm in a little London storm. You curled up with your boyfriend torwards the end of the night, taking the T.V. For yourselves to watch a new movie whilst the boys stayed in their rooms avoiding this kisses and cuddles you two shared.
The night was peacefully rough, the rain pattered against the windows hard but you enjoyed the sound of it. The thunder roared and the only annoying part about it was Toms endless thor jokes but everything was calm until,
“Fuck!” The lights go out, the house turns pitch black as the power goes out. Harry yells from his room causing you to let out a laugh but Tom seems to be already on top of things.
“I’ve got it!” He calls out to the boys. Harrison already fast asleep from his long day along with twuaine.
“Tom, do you even know where our power box is?” You can’t see him, only when lightening strikes again do you see him for a quick second.
“No, but…normally it’s outside yeah? Like in the movies.” He answers you and you press your lips into a thin line knowing you were hopeless for the night.
“Just got an email saying it’s the whole block, nothing we can do about it.” Harry called out from his room and you sigh as you feel tom fall back into the couch.
“It was just getting to the best part of the movie too.” You pout and Toms hands seem to find your waist as he pulls you in just a bit.
“No one can see anything…” he whispers suggesting something and you already know what game he was trying to play. “When was the last time we fucked on the couch?”
Never. You two never had privacy. You two could barely have sex in the comfort of your bedroom due to one of the boys always being home. You liked how Tom had such a good relationship with his brothers and friends but sometimes you just wished you had your own place.
“Tom…” he was already pressing kisses for your neck. You pushed him away slightly, too nervous about the lights coming back on and traumatizing poor Harry. “What if the lights come back on?” You whisper and he only presses another kiss to your shoulder.
“C’mon, they won’t do shit until the storm is over. Haz is asleep, twuaine is asleep, Harry is so far up his own ass editing so we don’t have to worry about anything. Babe, we have never broken in this couch.” He tells you and you sigh as you let him kiss at your neck and tug at your shirt.
You did think about you and him and all the places in the house. How he almost had taken you on the counters early in the morning or late at night multiple times, but those moments interrupted by someone.
“Tom!” A whimper slips your lips as he lets his hands slip past the lace underwear you completely forgot you were wearing.
“Shh,” he hushed as he slipped one finger in. Your chest jerks up to press against his as his finger moves in and out of you in a teasing manner. “You want more?” He asked and you nodded.
“Baby, I can’t see anything so use your words.” He whispered and you find the last strength in your body to whisper.
“Yes! Yes I want more.” You beg and he lets out a low chuckle.
“I know.” Was all he said but didn’t do anything to change it. His pace was still the same and you pressed your body harder against his hoping you would get some sort of feeling out of it.
“Tom?” Your voice innocent as you say his name into his ear just for you to hear.
“Yeah?” In this moment you wish you could see his face, his eyes as he fingered you slowly.
“Move faster.” You gritted and just as he starts, you both hear footsteps patter into the living room which causes Tom to remove his finger and you to whimper at the loss.
Harry’s face was lit up by the laptop he held. Tom shuffled off of you quickly and covered you with a blanket. Enough time for his brother not to see.
“We can try and turn it back on now. Is she okay?” Harry looked over at the two of you, you laying as if you were asleep as you didn’t have the acting—or lying in this case—skills that Tom did.
“Just fell asleep, I’ll turn the lights back on.” He told his brother and Harry just used the laptop light to get back to his room.
Once the bedroom door shut you and Tom let out a soft laugh. Your heart pounding in your chest as you felt like you were going to explode.
“We can still…” he starts to tease again and you push him off of you and sit up.
“Go get the lights!” You tell him and he mumbled something before kissing your forehead and finding the power box to flip it back on. You were once again faced with the light of the T.V., living room and hallway. When he came back inside you could see the disappointment in his face for there would be no couch sex.
“Let’s just go back to the room, maybe we can continue what we started.” You gather your stuff this time and he grows a smirk and his hand comes down to your ass.
“Yes please.”
One day you would be able to move into a place that was all yours and Toms. There would be no worrying about the boys and not worrying about who was looking and who wasn’t.
🌷 fighting with Tom and his mum steps in to break it up because you guys are "too good of a couple to break up"
Okay, so i took it to bit of angst and it got a bit longer than expected, oops
Warnings: angst, jealous Tom.
It was an afternoon, on Saturday, you, Tom and his family were spending a nice weekend out at the beach. The weather was great and everyone was having fun, except until the moment you and Tom started to argue over something so small as jealously.
"Oh, you don't want to bring this up, Thomas", you said with determination as soon as you passed the door for the beach house his family rented for everyone. You didn't even know if there was someone at home when the two of you decided to get out of the beach and fight instead of enjoy the beautiful sunny day.
"I think I want it, actually", Tom said, crossing his arms over his chest, his black t-shirt wet from the water that didn't get time to dry of his body. "That's exactly what I want. Why would you keep talking with him, when you knew he was obviously flirting with you?"
You turned on your heels, too irritated that he kept saying the same things from just a couple minutes ago.
"What the hell, Tom! I've told you, I didn't know he was hitting on me, okay? He was just talking about his fucking cat and showing me pictures, that was all. The minute I got the hint what he was trying to do, I told him I had a boyfriend. Fuck, why won't you believe me?"
"I do believe you", he rolled his eyes. "I just don't get it how you couldn't notice what he was trying to do beforehand".
You walked straight to your room, letting the door open since you knew Tom would come to you. "Hey, I'm still talking".
"Well, I'm not", you shrugged, taking off your shorts and throwing it aside. You would take care of your dirty clothes later, when you weren't so pissed at him. "I'm done talking to you about this. And if you insist, I'll probably hit on that specific topic we both know that is much more problematic than what you saw at the beach".
"How can anything be more problematic? That ass fucking kissed you, y/n, for fuck's sake!"
"It wasn't even a proper kiss, Tom, I got off the second I felt it!", you shout, letting the frustration take control over your mouth. "And you know what I'm talking about! You know that I'm talking about the fact that you have a bunch of girls giggling and smiling at you every fucking day, and sometimes I have to stand behind a fucking phone to take pictures of them holding your waist like you were two best friends, and the fact that you get to kiss so many actresses, and still I won't complain"
"Because you know it's my fucking job!"
"Because I know it's not real and that my jealously is all in my head, Tom, because I know I trust you!"
"And I trust you too"
"That's not what it looks like"
"Oh, fuck off", he scoffed, "You wanted me to play nice with a guy who tried to kiss my girlfriend and you don't want me to be mad at it. Really, y/n? So you can tell me that if a girl came to me and tried to do the same damn thing you wouldn't be fucking mad at her?"
"I would probably get mad at her, not at you", you argue, closing your fists beside your tensed body.
"I'm not mad at you, I am just mad at-" Tom stopped himself to think better. "Well, I'm mad at you for not accepting that I have a reason to be frustrated".
You gasp in disbelief. "You're unbelievable", you shook your head, crossing the room to take a towel and finally head to a good hot and relaxing shower, "You're ruining my weekend, thanks".
Tom's face was getting red, his eyes focused on your tensed and stiff moves.
"I just saw a guy with his goddamn mouth on yours, sweetheart, if there's someone who just ruined the weekend, it was you", he was almost spitting his words.
You turned to look at him again, a face covered in what seemed disgust and disbelief. You were ready to say a whole lot of things back, but you contained yourself. The hurt on your chest wasn't worth it. You were in the brick of tears, waiting to roll down your cheeks, but you held them back. Tom looked beyond mad and that didn't look like your sweet boyfriend anymore. So you grabbed your towel and walked out of the room.
"Can you, please, stop walking out when we're talking?", he shouted, but you didn't stop until you reached the bathroom.
"This is not talking, Tom, and I better do so before I say something I regret".
"Like what?"
"Like I fucking hate you!"
The moment the words came out of your mouth, you closed your eyes tightly. That was it, the entire argument fucked everything up.
"You hate me?", Tom swallowed the knot on his throat. He took a couple of seconds in silence before his sharply words came out, the hurt audible on his voice. "If so, why don't you just go away? Why don't you break up with me? You hate my job, you hate me. I bet you even hate spending time with me. Go on".
"Stop playing the victim, Tom", you turned to face him, and regretted immediately. He was crying, his eyes red and wet. At the view, your voice involuntarily softened. "I didn't mean it in that way. I-".
"What is going on here?"
The voice of Tom's mother made both of you wake from the thick tension that seemed to be pulling you two to your own little world. Your eyes turn to the woman who has a worried expression on her face, brows pulled in a frown.
"Mum, we're kinda busy right now, would you just- just leave us alone, okay?", Tom didn't face her, trying to avoid that she looked at his redshot eyes.
"No, you're fighting!", she said, deception covering her words. "And why is that? Stop it, it was supposed to be your little vacation, why are you two yelling at each other?"
"I'm sorry, but I just can't take it right now", giving her an apologetic weak smile, you turn around again to enter the bathroom and lock yourself inside.
Tom keeps stood in front of that door, not so sure about what to do. He feels his mother rubbing his shoulder slightly. "She is breaking up with me".
He didn't know why he was telling his mother such a thing, when he knew it wasn't even a fact, but Tom suddenly felt so insecure, so fragile, thinking about the possibility of you walking out of that bathroom and making your bag to fly back home.
"Oh, no, this ain't happening", his mother turned to face him. "Tom, you're too good of a couple to break up. Trust me, you guys work so great together. I've never seen you so comfortable with anyone, and so happy whenever she's around. It was just a silly fight, I'm sure".
Tom sighed loudly and turned around, giving her mother a light touch on her shoulder, before entering your shared room.
He waited for you to come back, which took a while. You were in the bathtub, trying to calm your nerves down until the water was cold. When you were out, you found yourself surprised to see Tom sitting on the edge of the bed, head down as he seemed to be deep in thoughts. He didn't hear you at first, but when yours wet feet stepped inside, your towel around you body, he raised his head and his eyes scanned you, looking for some kind of sight of your current mood.
You walked around the room, collecting the pieces of clothes you needed, not saying a single word. Tom observed you until he couldn't hold back his desperation anymore.
"Please, don't break up with me"
You stopped on your tracks and looked at him, cocking an eyebrow at his sudden plea.
"What? I'm not gonna break up with you", you said, a bit confused. "Why would you think that? I was just mad at you".
"You said you hate me", he murmured, averting his gaze as his cheeks turned a light pink, "And I told you to break up with me, but that's not what I meant. I don't want this. And I'm sorry, for saying it and for overreacting. I- I don't think you ruined the weekend. I did, and I'm sorry for that too".
Though you really wanted to stay firm and tough, your heart melted at the sight in front of you. Your sweet boyfriend was back. He never left, but the jealously was taking the best of him.
You sighed, walking towards him and sitting beside his figure. "It's okay. But I don't hate you, and you know that, dumbass", you smile. "In fact, I love you. More than anything. I'm sorry for saying it, it was insensitive of me and I'm never saying it again".
Tom stared at you with relief, one of his hands cupping your face. "Thank you. I love you too, darling".
You lean towards his, letting your eyes flutter close, as you touch both noses and forehead. "Ya know, the weekend is not over yet. It's not ruined. What you wanna do?"
Tom shrugged. "Whatever you want, actually. I just want to spend some time alone with you".
You smile and take his lips on yours. "That sounds amazing for me".
Tom x reader where reader wants to move out & live with Tom only (not with boys). Tom doesn’t want to move out, maybe Nikki has a talk with him
the one T.H.
➢ a / n | went a lil overboard, heh, but enjoy this ! sorry it took a lil while :,(
➢ wc | 2.5k <3
｡☆✼★━━ requests are closed ━━★✼☆｡
There’s too many dishes in the sink, you note. There’s so many, that they won’t all fit for one load in the dishwasher. It’s a pain, and you know nobody in this house has the patience to wait for two full loads to carry through, so you have to hand wash half of them and allow the whirring machine to do the other half.
If this were a romantic comedy, you’d have Tom standing next to you and you’d hold hands under the suds while you wash the dishes together and chat about your future. This isn’t a rom-com, though. In fact, you don’t even know where the boys are right now. You were certain they went into the den to play Call Of Duty — or whatever it is that they play — but then you thought they went into the backyard with Tessa, but now you’ve just given up on figuring their whereabouts.
Not that you’re angry at Tom for not helping, though. He did the laundry with you earlier, so you’re content with his keeping end of the deal. It’s the other four that you’re a bit fed up with. Sam had just recently joined the Holland-Osterfield-Barrett household of mates, and while you’re all the more happy to welcome him in, it also means more work. There’s a chore schedule, but sometimes someone has work in a town or a country away, and the gaps in the schedule are only ever left for you to fill.
It’s tough, considering you have your own job, but you’re content with the situation — for now. You have Tom, the love of your life, and you have the best people of your life - Harry, one of your closest confidants, and Harrison, one of your partners in crime.
There’s a lot of baggage that comes with being the only woman in a household of boys that practically grew up with each other. You love Tessa with all your heart, but it’s not like you can really gossip to her about your day.
You’re not too worried about everything, anyway. The second anniversary of your relationship with Tom is coming up; it’s only a few months away, and though you’ve been pondering the idea for awhile, you’re thinking of getting a place with Tom, on your own, without the nagging and intruding fellow in-laws (to-be, hopefully).
Six weeks, today marks, for how long you’ve been thinking about the idea, debating whether it’s valid enough to bring up to Tom, deciding when the best time to talk to him would be. He’s a hard man to navigate — getting a spot in his busy schedule is like fighting to the front of a One Direction mosh-pit. That makes it practically impossible.
But, you’re Y/N. You’re his sweetheart, his darling, his weakness. You’re the most important person in his life, and when you want to have a serious conversation with him, Tom’s all ears and eyes, attentive and caring, understanding and, hopefully, supportive.
You’re hoping it won’t take much convincing — he’s lived with these people all his life, and if it’s truly hard for him to decide, you’ll know what he really wants then.
Ringing out a few glass cups, you let them dry on a dish rack that sits on the countertop. The buzzing and whirring of the dishwasher alerts you that it’s still happily running, and you walk towards the glass sliding doors that lead to the patio and backyard. Peering out, you see all four housemates and Paddy, playing with a frisbee and wrestling with Tessa and messing around with a rugby ball on the trampoline. They look like kindergarteners on the playground, and you decide then to bring them some lemonade like a mother in summertime.
“Hope you’re all a bit thirsty,” you set the tray down with a warm smile. Sam shuts his book of poetry to smile up at you from his seat. He’s been reading for a good fifteen minutes, but you reckon he’ll hop on the trampoline when Harrison gets off. For now, he watches as the Irregulars star jumps happily with Tuwaine.
“Oh, sick,” Harry runs over with the frisbee still in his hands, reaching for a glass and taking a big gulp. Tessa’s at his feet, awaiting for the frisbee game to resume, and you pet her head for a moment before Tom runs over to you, hair matted to his forehead in sweat.
“You’re the best, love,” his hand finds the small of your back as he kisses your temple. You smile again, eyes shutting in bliss at the feeling of his lips, but his hand maneuvers you so he can reach for a glass without bumping into you.
One by one, they come over for refreshments, before picking up where they left off beforehand. Tom’s last to leave, wanting to talk to you before playing with his brothers again.
“Oh, I have to talk to you later,” you whisper, fingers tracing down his damp (sweaty) shirt with a giggle. Tom raises a brow, and you nod softly, “Just, when you have time. Now have fun,” you push him off, and though he’s still just as curious, he leaves you alone on the patio. Taking one last glance at the rowdy group of boys, you bring the tray of empty cups inside, sliding the door shut and sighing to yourself. More dishes to do.
——
Tom’s drying his hair with a purple bath towel when he comes out of the steamy bathroom. He sighs contentedly, before remembering your words from earlier. He brings it up, “What was it that you needed to talk to me about?”
He walks over to the dresser while you look up from your phone. You hum as Tom puts something away, and you shut the electronic device off, setting it on your nightstand and twisting to face his direction.
“I wanted to talk to you about… us, I guess.”
You see Tom’s movement slow, and he removes the towel from his damp curls, turning around hesitantly. You smile, waving him off, “Nothing bad, I promise.”
He lets out an inaudible “phew,” and nods. “Good.” You agree with a nod of your head, and he furthers on with the questions. “What is it, though? Is it something important?”
“I mean…” Tom places his towel on the rack before walking to the opposite side of the mattress “Sorta?” You offer, and you see the gears turn in his head. He sits down across from you, on the bed, and he smiles encouragingly, still a bit suspicious.
“Well, I’m all ears, darling.”
You smile at the familiar pet name, and with a final breath in, you admit what’s been in your head for the past few months. “I was thinking maybe we could… move out… without the boys.”
It’s dead quiet for a few beats while the words sink into his mind. You’re not sure how he’s going to react, but you watch to gauge his reaction.
His mouth opens, almost as if he’s about to say something, but then he closes it, as if he’d suddenly second guessed himself. For once, you truly can’t read him.
“I thought… I thought you liked living here?” he says softly, almost a bit saddened.
You sigh with your words, “I do! Really, I do, but…”
“But…?” He bites his lip.
“Well, I mean…” you exhale again, “We’ve been together for almost two years,” he’s still listening, “Don’t you think we should be a little more independent?”
“I mean, sure, if we were a normal couple.” He laughs at the joke, and while you do too, it’s not really genuine, but more forced for the awkward tension in the air. “I just thought you… y’know, enjoyed spending time with everyone.”
You nod understandingly. “I do, Tom. Really, I do. But… y’know, we’re not getting any younger. I just thought maybe it was time for us to get a place of our own.” It comes out as more of a suggestion, a question for him to respond to. You quietly bite your lip while Tom nods at the information he’s taking in.
He looks down at his fingers, before locking eyes with you. “Can I think about it?”
You shut your eyes softly while nodding. Tom blinks, before standing from the bed, giving you a kiss on the forehead and bidding farewell, heading downstairs for more quality time with his brothers.
——
It’s been a week since that conversation took place in your room. You didn’t think it’d go so… bad? You’re not sure if you should say that, because he didn’t exactly say “no,” he just didn’t seem enthusiastic about deciding at all.
It’s a quiet Saturday. You’re out bowling with a few of your friends, news of one of them getting engaged spreading like wildfire. She’s having a dinner party later, but for now, you’re keeping the meeting small, inviting your closest circle for the fun day at the bowling lanes.
Tom asked you if you wanted to reschedule the dinner with his family, but you insisted that arriving late would be fine. It’s only four o’clock — the Holland family likes to come for late lunch and spend the night playing games and drinking beer, until the clock strikes midnight and Paddy’s passing out in the backseat on the way back home.
At least now, only one Holland brother stays with the parents.
Somehow, someway, the conversation had shifted to you. Everyone’s gathered in the living room, scattered on sofas, couches, beanbags, armchairs, loveseats. Tom misses you at his side, but the conversation of how your work is going just reminds him of what you’d proposed a few days ago.
“How’re things with her in general, though?” Nikki, Tom’s mom, asks with a smile. The eyes shift towards Tom, and he can feel his face heating up.
“Yeah, how’re things with the lovebirds?” Harry teases.
Tom chuckles, anxiety bubbling in his stomach, twisting his. “Uh- they’re- they’re good, yeah,” he assures them, though shaky.
“You sure, there?” Harrison teases. “Did someone propose or something?”
“No, no,” Tom airily chuckles. “Nothing like that.”
“Oh?” His dad picks up, “What, then?”
“She- uh…” he licks his lips out of habit. “She wants to move out. Find a place for us, she said.”
The tone in which Tom tells them lets them know that he’s a little less than enthusiastic about the whole ordeal. It’s something that raises a red flag for Nikki; it’s something that makes her brows furrow in confusion.
“Oh,” Sam breaks the silent. “I’m happy for you, bro,” he pats Tom’s shoulder.
Tom smiles, though it’s forced and a bit spaced out.
“What’re you gonna tell her?” Harry asks. “You want it too, right?”
Tom shrugs weakly. Nobody talks about his responses, his reactions. It’s all a bit unexpected, for Tom to not be on board with the next step of the relationship.
“I mean, I don’t know, really.” He confesses with a nervous laugh, running a hand through his curls. “I’d miss you all so much. I just… I don’t know, I guess I just thought she liked living here too, y’know.”
A collective number of “yeah’s” and “mhm’s” go around the room, and Tom nods nonchalantly before the conversation switches to something more exciting. For now, Nikki lets it go, just until she can get her eldest in a room by himself, and before you get home.
It’s when Tom’s getting snacks for the group that Nikki decides to offer her help in the kitchen. They’re just putting dinner in the oven and preparing appetizers, but still, any opportunity to talk to Tom.
“So,” Nikki smiles, and Tom giggles while she puts another slice of tomato on the dish they’re preparing. “Moving out, huh?”
Though her tone is teasing, Tom can’t help but get shivers. He nods, quieting down a bit. Nikki’s movements remain, but Tom stops working altogether. “I don’t want to move out.”
His mum turns to look at him, and she nods, almost as if anticipating the confession. “Why not?”
Tom clicks his tongue, looking down as if he’s ashamed of feeling this way. “I just like things the way they are right now. I know at some point, someone’s gonna move out and the clan’s gonna go our separate ways, but I don’t want to be the one to go first.”
At this, Nikki fully turns to talk to Tom, no longer making dinner. “Tom…” She wipes her hands on a kitchen towel, and Tom does the same. “You were the first to go, you know.”
His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she sighs, “Your career was first to take off. You ran out that door so fast, we couldn’t keep up.” Tom laughs, reminiscing to himself. “You’re going to keep growing,” she says softly. “You can’t stop that. You can’t stop everyone from growing apart. Sure, you might not grow apart, but you won’t always be this cute little boy band from your school days.”
“Not a boy band, mum,” Tom grumbles. The two of them share a knowing smile.
“You can’t blame yourself for growing, darling,” she steps closer, grabbing one of his hands just like he had grabbed hers the day he was first born. “You can’t expect to be the glue that holds this- this temporary situation together forever. You’re not a superhero,” the two of them laugh again, but then Tom nods knowingly, and Nikki can see a faint batch of tears spring in his eye sockets.
“No, I know, mum.” He sniffles. “I guess… I don’t know, i’ve just always been afraid of never being there when everything changes. I always come back and everyone’s a different person, just…” he searches for the words, “with the same faces.”
She nods, turning back to her dinner dish. Tom keeps his eyes trained on his hands, which are planted on the countertop.
“She loves you a lot, you know.” Nikki says after a few beats. “She just wants a bit of privacy, a bit of your relationship without your annoying brothers.”
“Annoying is right,” Tom teases. They laugh again. “Yeah, I guess I just never thought of that.” Nikki hums, and the kitchen grows silent for a few moments. “Thank you, mum.”
“For what?”
“Being there.” Tom replies. “You never gave up on me, and now… I don’t know. It means a lot to me that you’re helping me with something so important to me.”
Nikki’s eyes soften, and both of them tear up. She nods, this time breaking the silence again. “I know how much you love her,” She says quietly. “One day, she’ll be yours for forever. She’s the one — I can see it in both of your eyes.”
Tom sucks in a breath and wipes his eyes. “I know she’s the one, too.” He adds in another tomato to the dish. “She’s always been it for me.”
