omg he would totally get jealous with the guys you bring over but would NEVER show it he would just watch while you flirted with the them and laugh to himself but secretly wanna kill them
“Who’s this?” booms his voice, causing you to make a turn in his direction.
“Oh,” you started, “just a friend.”
“Another?” he furrows his brows, and you realize what he’s doing. He wants them to leave by thinking you bring people over all the time.
What about 15 from the general with Tom after you've gotten hurt?
“You should’ve listened to me.”
It was a drunken mistake, one that was stupid as you thought you were showing off which really ended in you with an ice pack on your head completely sober in Toms kitchen.
“You should’ve listened to me.” Tom clicks his tounge as he walks around the counter to face you. “Look at me.” His hand under your chin makes you feel like a child.
“Stop touching it.” You whine as his fingers dance over the bump on your forehead. “It hurts.” You place the ice pack back on and he helps you down and walks you to the bedroom.
“Was it impressive?” He asks as his arms wrap around you and hold you up.
“What?” You asked and he lets out a laugh.
“The flip. Was it impressive. Did you impress the guy you were trying to get with?” He hides the pain with a sweet laugh and you shake your head.
“Oh,” you grumble thinking about the cute guy in the Hawaiian tee shirt and watched you all night. “No.” You huff and he reaches your bedroom, right next to his and he opens your door.
“I can go into my own room. I’m okay.” You told him and he nodded looking down. You always liked tom, more than just a friend sometimes. You thought about sleeping in the same bed as him, how warm he must feel. You thought about how his kisses must feel and how cuddling would be if you guys were dating.
“Keep the ice on it. Maybe take a shower,” he looks up and down at you. It was only in a friendly way as you did have both pool water and beer all over you. “You stink.” He laughs and you do too.
You don’t know what happens next. Maybe it’s the last of the alcohol but you reach over and kiss his cheek. A kiss that is sweet, soft, and more than a friendship.
“Goodnight, Tom.” You turn and open your bedroom door, walking in before shutting it behind you and just sitting there. Sitting there and feeling a warm rush though you. Tom stands on the other side feeling like a teenage boy who just got his first kiss all over again.
You were roomates. Roomates for years and now, now after one drunken mistake, everything has changed.
37 - “You’re n-not um, w-wearing anything under that, are you?...” 45 - “I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this wet.” 46 - “Were you just masturbating?” “Uh-uh no I was just...” “Want some help?
You’re trying to kill me, so that’s cool I guess XD. Here we go. P.S. sorry my read more still isn’t working, but SMUT.
Your roommate drove you absolutely insane. Not in the “you make me want to pull my hair out” kind of way that most boys drove girls. No, it was more of the “I want you to pull my hair out” kind of way, and it was starting to make you feel crazy.
Tom was absolutely gorgeous in every aspect of the word. And you were convinced there was an angelic glow about him as he’d step out of the bathroom after a shower, clad in only a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. You remembered trying to hide your face as your eyes bulged out of your head at the sight of him, beads of water rolling down his ripped abdomen. The man was a damn god. You wanted to believe that his intentions were innocent, but when he started wearing a shirt less, and finding excuses to flex his muscles more, you were beginning to wonder if he wasn’t doing it to torture you on purpose.
You finally snapped when he’d decided to make you dinner. He was shirtless, as he had been most days anymore, stirring the pasta you two would eat. You could see him looking at you from the corner of his eyes, making sure you were looking at him before he stretched, flexing once again followed by running his hand through his messy curls. You chewed your bottom lip, excusing yourself and telling him that you would be back when dinner was ready.
Rushing to your room, you practically ripped your clothes off, getting under the sheet and grabbing your vibrator from the drawer on your nightstand. You turned it on eagerly, knowing you didn’t have much time to work with. The way you saw it, if you could get off even once, it would be enough to get you through dinner so that you could excuse yourself to your room once more to finish the job.
You took the toy, circling your clit, and moaning softly at the delicious vibrations it gave you. With your other hand, you teased your breast, rolling your own nipple between your fingers and arching your back into your own touch. Eyes closed, lips parted, and pleasure setting every single one of your nerves on fire, you almost missed the sound of your door being opened. Gasping, you quickly turned off the toy, pulling the sheet of your bed up to your chin, seeing a red-faced Tom standing in your doorway.
“You’re n-not um, w-wearing anything under that...are you?” Something about the way he asked you, so sweetly, so innocently though you knew he was anything but, made you feel even hotter. You weren’t even sure anymore if your skin felt like lava because you were embarrassed or because you were aroused. You couldn’t even look Tom in the eyes, much less speak to him, so you just shook your head no. “I-I was coming to let you know dinner was ready...”
“Great.” You nodded again, wanting to crawl into the nearest hole and die.
“Were you just masturbating?”
“Uh-uh no. I was just-” You fumbled, trying to find any amount of words for being caught in the act, but coming up empty-handed.
“Want some help?” His voice was hoarse, and you watched his throat bob as he swallowed harshly. You were well beyond words, relaxing into the bed as you kicked the sheet away from you, baring all of your naked glory to Tom, who inhaled sharply.
He didn’t hesitate, kneeling on the bed between your legs, keeping his eyes trained on your face the whole time. As he leaned forward, you felt your heart pounding like a jackhammer in your chest. There was everything you’d ever wanted, at the tips of your fingers. All you had to do was lean forward just a little more. So you did, pressing your lips to his while tangling your fingers into his messy curls in a desperate attempt to pull him closer to you.
He moved his hand slowly down your bare body, taking time to worship you. His fingers splayed over your breasts, tweaking your nipples between his fingers. You moaned out, curving your body into his and he chuckled into your neck, placing a kiss on your clavicle. He began to kiss down your body, stopping at your hips to toss your legs over his shoulders. He chuckled at you darkly, making you squirm.
“I haven’t even touched you, and you’re this wet.” He grinned, making you whimper.
“Wait, what about dinner?” You whispered, panting heavily.
summary: you have had enough of tom’s fuckboy antics
warnings: language, mentions of sex
prompt: “I hate the fact that I can’t fucking hate you.”
a/n: this is my submission for @underoosbws’s writing challenge. congrats, jess 💞also: i’m not really happy with how this turned out at all, at least not the ending, but i would love some feedback!
You groan loudly, burying your head deeper into your pillow, trying to ignore the obnoxious giggles of the girl Tom had brought home with him. You can vaguely hear him telling her to be quiet, which just fuels your annoyance more. Tom didn’t seem to have any idea what time it was, or he just didn’t care. The door to his room closes, and you sigh, already reaching for your headphones.
When he brought the very first girl home with him, you had told him how thin the walls were the very next day. He had shrugged, saying that he wouldn’t care if you brought a guy home, playing it off as no big deal. Several girls later, you had started to feel slightly jealous of the random one-night stands he would bring with him. One night, you had caught yourself wishing it was you, and since that day, you had suppressed those feelings. However, this was getting harder and harder with every new girl he brought back to your shared apartment.
Pushing the earbuds into your ears, you quickly press play on a song just as another string of giggles echoes throughout the apartment. You briefly wonder why Tom seemed to always bring back the biggest airheads he could find. He just rolled his eyes the one day you asked him, ignoring your observation. You tried not to interfere with what had become a somewhat schedule. He would go out with Harrison on Saturday night, bring a girl home to have fun with and then she would leave early Sunday morning - unless he kicked her out the same night - and he would nurse his hangover.
You scroll through your phone, focusing on the lyrics and not what’s happening in the room across the living room. Your Instagram explore page quickly grows boring, and you sigh, clicking the text message icon. You pause for a moment, unsure of what to do, before quickly tapping on his name.
he’s at it again and i’m dying. hELP
The three dots pop up, signaling that Harrison is typing his response. You wait, welcoming the distraction.
sorry puddin. he’ll grow out of his phase soon
You shake your head at the familiar nickname. Harrison had taken it upon himself to call you pudding ever since you had spilled chocolate pudding all over yourself the second time you met him. Despite hating it in the beginning, you had you admit you didn’t mind it much know that you were this close to him.
phase?? this is just who he is. a major fuckboy and he fucking sucks
He didn’t suck. Tom had been a rather enjoyable roommate so far. He always paid his rent on time, even paying your half too one time when your paychecks had gotten messed up. He would clean up after himself and he would watch movies with you. Admittedly, the two of you had grown quite close during the past year. You weren’t entirely sure when you had started catching feelings for him, but you didn’t want to dwell on feelings that would remain unrequited.
After getting no response from Harrison, you figure he’s busy or asleep, so you remove your earbuds after pausing the song currently playing. Hearing a moan and more giggling, you instantly regret it. You extend your arm behind you, furiously banging against the wall to tell them to quiet down their actions. The apartment falls silent for a moment before the girl whines loudly, her voice annoyingly high-pitched. They talk back and forth before you hear the front door slam shut and you furrow your brows out of confusion. A second later, Tom barges through your door.
“What is your fucking problem?”
You sit up, taken aback at his crude question, ignoring the fact that you were only wearing a thin tank top. “Excuse me?”
“I’m literally just trying to have some fun and you can’t even let me do that,” he mutters, running a hand through his disheveled curls.
You force yourself to look away from his half-way unbuttoned shirt, the sight only a painful reminder. Tom raises his eyebrows, obviously waiting for some sort of clever comeback or at least an explanation.
“Can’t even let you- you have girls over every fucking Saturday. I never complain. I let you bring all these stupid girls home and I literally have to put headphones on so I can’t hear them moaning your name. I am so sorry that I want to go to sleep instead of listening to you fucking the night away.”
Tom scoffs, looking at you, but you avoid his eyes, knowing you would melt as soon as his brown orbs met yours. The effect he had on you was absolutely unfair and you despised it.
“You’re just jealous,” Tom states, throwing his hands up.
“You know what? Maybe I am, but it’s none of your fucking business because you don’t give a shit anyways. Now get out of my room, Holland.”
“Are you jealous of me getting laid or the girls I bring home?” His question appears innocent, but you know him, and easily sense the underlying teasing tone.
“Get out,” you seethe, your eyes stinging with unshed tears.
Tom finally seems to notice the seriousness of your behavior, realizing you aren’t playing along with him. Sighing, he turns around and closes the door behind him without a word. As soon as he does, the tears in your eyes don’t care about invitations anymore and push past your closed lids. You sit there for a second, the salty drops running your cheeks, and you wonder how it had gotten to this point.
You had never meant to become close to Tom; definitely never meant to fall in love with him. Is that what this is? Are you in love with him? You’re not sure about anything other than how painful it was to see him with someone else. Although his girls seemed dumb, they were always gorgeous and you knew he would never go for you. You had told Harrison one time, accidentally blurting it out, and he had just nodded. He told you he could see it in the way you looked at him. A part of you wished Tom could see it too.
Leaning against the wall, you pull your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them to keep them there. You decide you don’t want to cry over him anymore but that’s easier said than done. You glance at your phone, clicking the home button to check the time. A broken smile makes its way to your lips as you inspect the screensaver. A picture that Tom’s brother, Harry, had taken of you, Tom and Harrison the first time you met his family adorned the screen.
A soft knock interrupts your thoughts and you immediately look at your door, half expecting Tom to burst through the same way he had fifteen minutes ago. He doesn’t say anything and briefly, you wonder if he would just go away if you pretend to be asleep. Sniffling, you ask him,
“What do you want?”
“Can I come in, please? It’s easier to talk to you when I can see your pretty face.”
You give him permission and the door opens immediately. You glance at him, noticing he had changed into a plain t-shirt and sweats. You refuse to look at the way the fabric hug his chest, instead meeting his eyes for the first time that night. Tom’s expression softens at the sight of you, but you tell yourself just imagining things. He sighs quietly.
“I don’t really understand why you’re upset,” he starts and for some reason, his choice of words spark the anger within you. “I bring girls home every weekend. What’s so different about tonight?”
“Exactly,” you state, letting your legs fall down, still not moving from your spot. “You bring girls back to our apartment every weekend. I can hear everything you guys do and I am tired of having to listen to music every Saturday night because the guy I love is fucking some random girl next door!”
“Darling-”
“Don’t call me that. I’m not your ‘darling’. I am not your anything. You just see me as your roommate and that’s all I am ever going to be,” you’re crying again, croaking out your next words. “I hate the fact that I can’t fucking hate you. I try, Tom, I do, but then you’ll let me borrow your sweatshirt if I’m cold or you’ll help me study for my tests and it all melts away. I never thought I’d be crying over you, but here I am, and it fucking sucks.”
Tom’s eyes are wide and for a second you think it’s because you told him you wanted to hate him, but then you realize how the words had come out of your mouth. You should feel embarrassed, you know that, but all you feel is the immense weight that has been lifted off your shoulders. For a moment, you could care less about your one-sided love, relief flooding your veins after finally getting this off your chest.
You look at him, slightly annoyed with how attractive he looks in just a shirt and sweatpants, and wait for him to respond. The room fills with a short silence. Not necessarily an awkward one, but a comfortable one either. Your roommate’s mouth opens but he quickly closes it again, not knowing what to say. You look back down at your phone, suddenly wondering if you had just ruined your friendship. A small pang of guilt hits you, knowing that if you had, you ruined your relationship with Harrison as well.
“Tom, say something,” you prompt softly, getting slightly worried from his lack of words. He rubs the back of his neck.
“I don’t know what you want me to say,” his voice comes out slightly hoarse and he clears his throat. Your heartbeat quickens involuntarily. “I haven’t had a real relationship since I was sixteen. I never thought a girl like you would like me. I would be lying if I said I didn’t find you attractive, Y/N, but I don’t know what to do about it. I know you want more than just a one-night stand.”
His words repeat in your head and you physically feel your shoulders slump slightly, pressing your lips together in thought. The fact that Tom had admitted to finding you attractive wasn’t even registered. You knew Tom had been sleeping around for a while, but you had never suspected his last relationship ended six years ago.
“Oh.” Your response is quiet, almost dumbfounded.
Tom looks at you quizzically, as if to determine your mental state, before taking the two strides forward to reach your bed. You watch him as he sits down on the edge of your bed. It wasn’t the first time Tom had sat in your bed, but it felt different now, almost slightly intimate.
“I’m willing to try. For you,” Tom admits softly, turning back to look at you.
You look at him incredulously, not fully believing him. Shuffling around on the bed, you scoot closer to him. He tracks your movements silently, looking at you with genuine eyes as your meet his. Your heart continues to race, recognizing the close proximity between the two of you. Your eyes flicker toward his lips, only for a moment, but neither of you makes the first move. You nod slowly.
“Let’s talk about it tomorrow. I’m sleepy,” you confess, pushing away the urge to press your lips against his.
Tom nods, a look on his face that you can’t quite decipher. He stands slowly, the bed creaking from the loss of his weight. You reach out and grab his wrist, stopping him from leaving your room. It happened somewhat automatically because all you knew was that you didn’t want him to leave just yet. He looks at you questioningly over his shoulder.
“Stay. Please?” you whisper, the emotional exhaustion taking over.
He nods slowly, cautiously climbing back into bed with you. Struggling slightly, you finally get comfortable under the covers. It’s silent again, but you don’t mind it this time. It feels comforting.
“Don’t get any ideas, Holland, we’re just sleeping.”
Tom chuckles, snaking his hand underneath your neck. Pushing gently, he turns you over so you have no choice but to rest your head on his chest. You can feel his heart beating, the steady rhythm soothing you. Tom kisses the top of your head and you suddenly wonder if he does this with all the other girls. As if he senses your slight jealousy, he rubs your upper arm.
“Just for the record, I didn’t do anything with the blondie. And I have never cuddled up anyone like this, ever, which I kind of regret because it’s surprisingly comfortable. I’m glad you’re my first, though.”
“Shut up and let me enjoy this moment,” you mumble, earning yet another chuckle from Tom. Placing yet another kiss to the top of your head, he hums, telling you to go to sleep. You oblige without needing much encouragement, nuzzling into his side.
Roommate!Tom waking about 3 times in the middle of the night bc he could perfectly hear the sound of the flush of y/n's bathroom from his bedroom, so in the fourth time he hears it, he decides to get up and go check if she's okay, then when he comes in he gets worried seeing how pale she is and asks what happened and she says "i threw up, like... four times" and he goes wild bc she didn't call him to help her
Tom wanted to shove his face into the pillow as he heard the sound of the toilet flushing for the millionth time. But that would make him a bad roomate if he just stayed in bed and ignored you.
So he stood up, groaned as his back cracked and his body felt sleepy, and he carried himself to your room where he found you climbing back in bed.
“Darling,” he rubs his eyes as he focuses on you. “Everything alright?” His groggy British accent always making your heart swoon when he just wakes up.
“Just not feeling well,” you tell him expecting that to be enough to make him go away. Instead he comes over to the bed and turns on your lamp. His body warm next to yours as he checks your head.
“You’re burning up.” He tells you as he is now more awake and can pay attention. He sees you’re cuddled up with the heating blanket and you’ve got medicine at the side of your bed. “Let’s take a temperature—“ he starts his natural instinct to take care of you. but you sit up already cutting him off.
“No, Tommy, I’ve got a fever. It’s a stomach bug I know it. I threw up and I’m gonna go to the doctor if they’ll take me today. Go back to sleep, you’ve got work—“ you start to tell him and he’s already creating a spot for him in your room.
“No, no, no, I’m not going back to sleep until you’re feeling at least a little bit better.” He crawls under the covers and turns off the blanket. “Now when it’s morning you’re gonna eat, have some tea, I’ll run you a nice bath, and rest. Lots of resting.” He points and pulls you into his side.
“Thank you.” You sniffle against his side at how warm he was. He gently rubs your stomach to hopefully ease the pain.
“That’s what I’m here for.” He lays there waiting for you to fall asleep. And you do, and by morning you do everything he wants to do to heal your fever. And not once does he leave your side, not once does he do his own things. It’s all about you.
Roommate Tom consistently checking up on you because you’re unwell/broken a bone and you’re like ‘I’m fine Tom I don’t need your help’ and you you accidentally slip in the shower and yell for help and Tom’s like ‘need my help now princess’ and you’re anxiety is threw the roof because you’re half naked (not that it matters to Tom because he’s seen more)
Maybe tom was the overprotective roomate. He cared about you a lot, every moment you were sad, sick, worried, scared, happy, he was all there for you. Making sure you were always at 100%.
Now you were a little sick. Just a small fever and a stomach bug that kept you moaning and aching in toms arms. Being sick with tom around was almost the worst thing, he wanted to protect you and be there almost all the time.
“Maybe you should take a bath love, so you don’t get hurt or if you feel you can’t stand anymore-“ he stopped you and you just pushed past him.
“I don’t need you to baby me.” You grown a little because of how protective he was. It was sweet, yes, but he was starting to get on your nerves.
You start the shower, feeling steam fill the room up and it already is clearing up your head. Putting a Vick’s vapor rup tab in the corner to help you feel better you let your body sink into the shower. Feeling everything relax you for the first time all week as you scrub your hair clean.
You turn off the shower and reach out for a towel but there’s nothing there. No extra towel or anything you start to feel annoyed as if the shower never happened. Not exactly wanting your roomate to see you naked you call out to him anyways.
“Tom!” Yoy shout and hear no response. “Tom—“ the door is open and you’re hidden behind the curtain but still reveled.
“Don’t need me to baby you still?” He smirks as he hands you the fluffy towel and you give him a look. “It’s Sunday, laundry day? Remember?” He helps you out and you groan.
“I hate you.” You hold onto him for support since the hot shower made you feel doozy. “I hate you but I love you.” You tell him and he only laughs.
“Whatever, c’mon, you can take a nap in my bed using the heating blanket.” He helps you slip into new clothes and you heat up that he sees your naked body. “What? Nothing I haven’t seen before.” He smirks once again and you hit his shoulder.
“I really hate you.” You pout to him and he hangs up your towel.
“Whatever, you love me.” He kisses your cheek and then you two walk back to his room where you curl up on what you’ve claimed your side of the bed.
The rest of the afternoon was filled with tea, soup, and naps. You curled up against his side and he did everything he could do to make you feel better.
Best friend! Tom helping the reader get over a breakup, but refraining from telling her he likes her because he doesn’t think the timing is right
You curl in his lap, tears stain and burn your face from crying so much and now you stay with your roommate/best friend, Tom.
How could he break up with you? How could he not see how amazing you were? All these questions ran through Toms head after he was told the news of a breakup.
“Maybe it was because of my music taste, he hated the songs I listened to.” You sniffled. Tom tensed up. I love your music taste. He thinks I’m his head.
“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard. He was a fucking idiot and you need to move on.” He tells you and you look up. Your chin rests on his chest and you can feel his heartbeat.
“How do I get over someone I was with since highschool Tom? How!” You cry and he touches your face and moves some hair.
“Maybe you don’t, maybe you will never. But there is one thing that I know for 1000%, there is someone that loves you 10x more and how do I know that? Because they won’t break your heart.” He tells you and you laugh a little.
“Oh yeah? And who’s that?” You lay back against him. Me! It’s me! I would never break yo heart are you kidding! Ran through his head but he can’t say it. Your heart was broken and it was selfish for him to tell you he loved you now.
“Maybe you should get some sleep.” He moves you carefully and you give him a strange look. “You can sleep in my bed, I can take the couch.” He doesn’t look at you but you get up anyways and wrap your arms around him.
“Can you lay with me though? I don’t really wanna be alone right now.” You beg and he looks at your arm, you’re still wearing the bracelet he gave you, your ex gave you.
“(Y/n),” he now makes eye contact with you. “You need to sleep, not do anything else.” He tells you. Your face goes from confusion to hurt as you gather your blanket and phone to go to his room. He watches you walk off. Not a goodnight or an ‘I love you’ heard from the hallway just the slam of a door.
He was confused and hurt too, he hated himself for being selfish but he couldn’t take it either. Both of you were heartbroken and could feel it throughout the house. Little did you know that all he wanted to do was protect you.
You lay on the couch, cuddling up with your roomate watching a movie you both had completely forgotten about. Now occupied with your phones, Tom scrolled through Instagram while you scrolled through tinder.
“Okay, what about him? Be honest.” You asked showing him a photo of a man you found. He looked nice, good jaw, glasses, your age, said he liked reading and was an English major. But of course tom, doesn’t want to see you with anyone.
“He honestly looks like he would call his mom after sex to tell her about you.” He said bluntly which caused you to grab the pillow and hit him.
“YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!” He blocked himself with his arms as you hit him more.
“Tommy, I’m serious! I’m gonna be lonely forever. You’re gonna get a girlfriend or something and move out and I’m gonna live alone forever.” You whine flopping back into the couch. He crawls on top of you and takes the phone from your hand. He locks it and sets it on the table before moving some hair.
“I mean....would it be so bad if you lived alone forever? I don’t plan on getting a girlfriend soon.” He says and you play with some of his hair.
“Yes, it would. But thank you for saying I have you a little longer.” You get up from your spot and grab your beer. “I’m gonna get another one. Do you want one?” He nods biting his lips wondering how do you never notice? How could you go so long just never knowing that he was in love with you.
He goes back to cuddling you as before. He now watches the movie while you still make an attempt through tinder. His mind races with how he can find a way to tell you he loves you, find a way to say it’s you he wants.
