Could you write something with one of reader's relatives asking her if she's afraid of tom abandoning her now that she's pregnant and tom gets really mad when you tell him that?
Hellooo! Hope you like it!
Warnings: bit of angsty, but ends up in fluffy
•°•○•°•○
"And how was your date with your cousin?"
You're currently spreading some oil over your baby bump, keeping a conversation with Tom about your day when he asks what you were trying so hard to forget. You sigh; surely, that was one point of your day you wouldn't want to share.
Today went well, expect for the little lunch you had with some friends and a relative of your, your cousin, whp wasn't exactly too aware of the damages she could cause for a future mom, who was growing with hormones and feeling extra insecure about everything. Thankfully, you were too sure about everything in your life to give a single damn about what she said, but still... You thought it was something cruel to be said.
Yet, you were determined to keep quiet about it, you didn't want to stress over her lack of kindness, because of your baby, but your silence was what Tom needed to think for himself.
"Not good, uh?", he knew you and knew your relatives enough to quickly get what got you upset, "What happened?"
"Nothing really important", you shrugged, finishing your work. Tom was folding some clothes over the bed to put on the closet, and you walked over him, kissing his cheek and sitting on the edge of your bed.
"You don't sound like you think this is unimportant, darling", he arched a brow, "C'mon, tell me".
He sounded peaceful and supportive, and you had a hell of a day. Maybe you should just shout that out and get those cruel words out of your mind. That was not much to ask for. So you did.
"You know, she's not a cool person, not all the time. She was asking about my pregnancy, about our marriage...", you sighed. "And then she came up with something really weird, asking me if I was afraid of you leaving me, now that I'm pregnant".
Tom had to pause what he was doing, his hands slowly stopping on its tracks as he folded the last piece of cloth.
"What?", he gasped, eyes narrowing at your words.
You throw your head back, getting that bad feeling again. "I know, she is pathetic. I don't even know why I agreed going out with her, since we don't really get along. But, you know, I'm pregnant, thought it would be the best of times to... I don't know, build something stronger, since we are relatives. Well, it seems like I was wrong".
Tom passed his hands through his curls, shaking his head. "I can't believe she could say something so... so..."
He sounded frustrated, but most of all, angry.
"Hey, it's okay, it was just something stupid-"
"No, y/n, that's not okay", he said. "I'm sorry, I know she's your cousin, but that's completely off limits. What the hell does she have on her mind? You're pregnant, for God's sake! Who the hell say something so stupid to a pregnant woman?!"
You sigh. "Tom, I'm not affected by her words, okay?".
"Well, I am! I truly am affected", he threw his arms in the air. "I don't even know what I'm more pissed about: the fact that she considered I'm the kind of person who would do something like this, or the reason behind why she thought someone would leave you when you're pregnant!".
"In my opinion", you caressed your baby bump with your hand, voice still low. "I think she's just jealous for what I have. You know, this new family... me, you, this little baby. This is perfection and I don't try to hide it anytime of my day. Maybe she got angry because of that."
Tom puffed his cheeks out in frustration and took a seat beside you, putting the clothes aside on his way.
"Why are you so calm with it?", he asked. "I know it happened earlier, but, still, I can't get what-"
You took his face on your hands, smiling a little and rubbing his cheeks im soft circles. "Because, as I said, I don't really care, Tommy. You know what I care for? This. Us. It doesn't matter what people ask, what they presume, or what they want to ruin in our lives. It doesn't matter, as long as we're here, good on our on. That's what family is supposed to be, a boat in the middle of an ocean of people with bad words. And that's exactly what it is, just a couple of bad words. They don't mean anything to me."
Tom's eyes shined, glossy with all the emotions he didn't even intend to hide from you. He smiled a little, nodding his head.
"No, you don't have anything to be sorry for", you take one of his hands and put it over your belly. "Now, talking about happier topics...", you smile kindly, "You're gonna be an amazing dad, Tom".
the dress is hugging your curves in just the right ways, tom determines. while a sense of pride bubbles within him at his choice of wardrobe for you, there is also growing frustration; the dress is hiding his favorite parts of you. he doesn’t even bother averting his gaze when your eyes meet his own. the corner of your lips curve upwards and he swallows, his throat suddenly feeling like the sahara desert.
to any other person attending the rooftop party, the feigned innocence plastered on your face probably seems genuine. but not him. the playful glimmer in your eyes is obvious - even from where he’s standing. tom knew what was coming. he had been caught redhanded and he was about to pay the price.
losing grip — the reader is diagnosed with a brain tumor
hidden hickeys — the avengers realize peter isn’t as innocent as they think
these are the main two, because i’m working on a super long piece about the reader & tom getting stuck in an elevator together. i have quite a few tiktok aus coming out, too, and some ts!reader + ag!reader + styles!reader :)
I saw Luke Hemmings get his makeup done by his girlfriend and I was wondering if you could write something where the reader does tom’s makeup just for fun while they’re like on a livestream answering questions and being all cute
A/N: So this was fun to write and I hope it is what you wanted anon! I am slowly getting through the requests I have. I will try to post one each day. So if you sent in one, it is coming. Enjoy!
Livestream Fun
You slowly work on putting foundation on Tom's face as he reads another question, "What was the last movie you two watched?" He reads out loud and then looks at you. "Love, what was it? I honestly can't remember."
"We watched Onward and I cried through the whole damn movie." You answer focusing on his face as you put the make-up on him. You just had to do this when a fan suggested it. Luckily, Tom agreed.
"Oh yeah," he smiles at you, "sorry darling."
"It's okay. Oh eyeliner time." You grin at him and he groans. You try to put it on him sitting next to him but that doesn't work. You will have to sit in his lap. "I'm gonna have to sit in your lap. So I am going to turn the chair so the back is facing the camera and I will read the questions while I do this part." Tom won't be able to read questions while you do this anyways.
"Okay," he turns his chair around and you straddle his lap, his hands going to your hips since it can't be seen. All that is shown is the back of his chair and your face.
"Babe, you gotta keep your eye open while I do this part," you giggle as his eye closes again as you go to put the eyeliner on.
"I can't help it, it's a reflex." He tells you.
"Don't you trust me?" You ask him with a pout.
"Of course I do. My eye just doesn't." He answers which makes you giggle as you look at the questions coming in. You look for one you like. When you see it you smile and start working on Tom's eyeliner, "Someone asked how we met."
Tom smiles at the memory as well, "We met at a grocery store. She was trying to get something off the top shelf. She couldn't reach so I walked up to help."
"Not that he was much help, since he isn’t all that tall either. He had to step on the bottom shelf to reach what I was trying to get and he made a bunch topple over," you giggle as Tom glares at you.
"It was fine, I still got it and I am taller than you."
"Only by like four inches," you continue to giggle. He pokes you in the side making you jump with a squeal. "Don't do that. I could accidentally poke your eye out," you say sternly.
"Sorry,” he looks sheepish for a second but then you see a mischievous glint in his eyes, “you know when all this is over you're going to have to take all this off me," he tells you with a smirk and you do not miss the double meaning behind that statement.
"I know," you wink as his hands move over your hips. You finish the eyeliner and peck his lips before putting chapstick on him. You wasn't planning on going overboard with it. "You look hot in eyeliner." You tell him as you get off his lap and he turns around to show the camera and look himself.
"Not bad," he smirks and you watch as the chat goes wild. He looks at you and kisses your cheek, "Love you."
“Come on Tom don’t be ridiculous!” You match his volume, “I had every right to be annoyed. We’d planned this thing for weeks!”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, (Y/n)!” He continues to defend, “I’ve had a busy schedule with everything going on and it just slipped my mind. I can’t change that.”
“I reminded you that morning!” You point out, “And it’s not like you were doing something you couldn’t get out of. Drinks with the boys? You can do that anytime!”
The derivative of this argument had stemmed from Tom missing an important evening you were supposed to be attending for your business. He knew you’d been terrified about it for weeks and you’d been prepping to meet all of these important business figures since you’d first been invited. You wanted him by your side. Instead, he’d supposedly forgotten and gone out with the boys for drinks instead. Sure, he had been busy recently. He’d been doing a bunch of press for Onward and had only recently finished up with Cherry, whilst also juggling a few new projects that seemed to be in the pipeline. But you’d asked for one night. And you didn’t expect that to be so hard for him.
In fact, the two of you had been arguing a lot recently. Ever since you’d moved into this flat together, you’d been at it like an old married couple. You hadn’t done the dishes? Argument. He’d forgotten to get the groceries you’d asked for? Argument. You came back late from work and hardly saw him? Argument. Day after day, the blissful couple managed to sink further and further into the stage they never wanted to get to.
“Really? Because on top of work, and travelling and everything, I hardly get to see them anymore,” He comments, running a hand through his hair, “I just thought I’d have one night to enjoy myself.”
“I wanted you to be there Tom,” You sigh, “I was terrified. Do you know how humiliating it is to be talking to investors and have them question why the seat beside me was empty at dinner?”
He swallows and you watch as his Adam’s Apple bobs prominently, “It wouldn’t have made a difference to their opinion of you if I was there or not.”
You scoff, “Right, Tom,” You fold your arms like you’re closing him off from you, “But it would’ve made a difference to me. I wanted my boyfriend to be there to support me. But I guess not.”
That silences him. All of his arguments to defend himself seem to fall flat.
“You have to be at the studio for interviews in an hour, you should probably leave now,” You comment coldly, hardly glancing up from the floorboards as you speak, “I’ll see you later.”
He doesn’t have it in him to find the right words to respond with. Instead, he watches you walk into the room that you shared in this apartment before he finally drops his hope and packs up his things to leave. As he left, all he could think about was how much he’d held you in that room. How many times had the two of you shared a bed? Without him falling asleep on the sofa, or in a hotel halfway across the world. Without an argument meaning you turned your backs to each other after a hasty good night. All he could think of was wrapping his arms around you tightly and promising you that you’d wake up with them still tight around your torso. He’d give you a morning kiss and ask to stay with you like that forever, until life dragged you to your separate callings.
- - - - - -
He’s already been asked if he’s okay four times since he got here - all by different people. They all said that he didn’t seem like himself but he’d dismissed it as fatigue quickly. Chris seemed the most concerned as they both got their microphones connected for the interviews.
“You good, buddy?” Chris frowns, watching Tom like he was a brother to him whilst Tom blanks out.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Tom nods encouragingly, trying to force himself back to normal.
“You know we don’t have to go ahead if you’re not comfortable,” Chris points out, “I’ll do them alone if you-“
“Honestly man, I’m good, let’s go,” Tom shakes it off, heading out through to the first interview of the day.
These days were always pretty long - interview after interview that always seemed to hold similar questions or set ups. But you always managed to brighten them. You’d send him a text to check he’d got there okay, or you’d sent him a voice note to update him on your day so far. Especially recently as the two of you had moved into your apartment. His phone would normally be buzzing a thousand times as you sent him different photos of cute furniture that you’d managed to find. Today, he hadn’t heard anything.
He knew he was in the wrong about this whole situation with you. You were completely right to want him to be there with you. You’d always done the same for him - press events, charity nights, premieres. You’d been by his side for all of his major moments. And he’d managed to slip up on the one night where it mattered. He knew that this would matter more to you than if he’d missed your birthday, an anniversary, even a meal with your family. Your career? That was always a big thing for you, and so was having Tom there to support. So yeah, he’d fucked up. And he’d made things worse by being too proud to admit it.
“And what about you Tom?” The interviewer continues, focusing his attention on the boy that was hardly in the room.
“Oh, I’m sorry, could you repeat the question?”
- - - - - -
“Man, what’s with you today?” Chris frowns, “I don’t wanna be rude but you’re really not with it today.”
Tom sighs and rubs a hand over his face, “Just been a bit of a long day.”
“Well, we’ve got three left,” Chris encourages, “I’ll be my wonderful self and you can sit back and look pretty.”
Tom tries to laugh but it falls flat against the weight on his chest. He wanted to be home. He wanted to find a thousand ways of making this up to you so he could tell you once and for all that he would change and that he was wrong. Every passing moment increased his fears that, this time, he’d be too late.
“Alright so, a lot of fans sent in questions for this interview,” The woman explains, Tom hadn’t been alert enough to catch her name, “Chris, what was your favourite thing about working on this film?”
Chris chats away naturally going through his answer, making some sort of joke that Tom forces a laugh at.
“And Tom, a lot of questions came in for you,” The interviewer smiles, “How have things been for you and (Y/n) now that you guys have moved in together?”
His eyes fall at the mention of your name, trying his best to muster any composure he can find before he looks back up, “Um,” He stops.
It felt like everyone’s eyes were on him. The useless boyfriend acting as though everything had to be fine.
“Things are going great, thank you,” He tries to readjust in his chair and smile, “We’re settling in well.”
“And she’s been very busy with her business recently,” The interviewer persists relentlessly, “You guys must be so busy! How has that worked?”
Tom feels himself fight against the quivering of his bottom lip, “I’m sorry, excuse me.”
“Tom?” Chris speaks up, frowning at the sudden change in demeanour.
“I have to go,” Tom stumbles quickly, “I’m so sorry.”
The interviewer seems practically dumbfounded.
“I’m sorry, excuse me,” Tom tries to de-tangle himself from the microphone and step through the maze of cameras and crew around them.
His assistant watches on in horror - this would be a hard one to explain!
But Tom would deal with all of that later. He gets himself out of the room with rapid breathing as he starts hurrying down the corridors to try and get out of the building. To get home to you.
- - - - - -
He’s practically trembling on the taxi journey all the way back to the flat - he’s convincing himself of every possible negative outcome and telling himself a million times that it’s too late to rectify what he’s done. The thought alone causes adrenaline to surge through him.
When the cab pulls up outside of your building, he rushes to the penthouse like there’s fire behind his feet. But as soon as he reaches the door? All of that comes crashing down. And there’s an odd solemn nature that falls over him that he can’t manage to shift.
There’s soft music playing from inside the flat and he’s cautious as he unlocks the door. It’s quiet and calm but he’s certain that the aftermath of a storm is always worse than the storm itself. You’re always awaiting the next.
Tom walks through the flat calmly until he reaches the spare room. The two of you had used it as a very jumbled place for storage since you’d moved in and never really got round to organising. Clearly today you’d set that task for yourself.
“Hey,” He begins softly and it instantly makes you jump.
You hadn’t heard him over the music.
“What are you doing home?” You frown, checking the time, “I thought it wasn’t supposed to be for at least another hour.”
“Yeah I know,” Tom scratches at the back of his neck, “I left early.”
You frown once again, “What happened? Was everything okay?” You pause the song and focus solely on him.
“Um, yeah, listen (Y/n)...” He pauses, glancing over at the photo album in your hands, “What are you doing?”
“Just looking through some old photos,” You tuck some stray hairs behind your ears and it pains you that it’s not his hand to make the movement, “I got a bit distracted from clearing out.”
“Can I join you?”
You shift around on the floor to make room for him beside you and, as he’d asked, he comes to sit cross legged on the carpet next to you.
“Oh my god!” Tom picks up a photo from the floor, “This was from Halloween, what like 3 years ago?”
“Yeah,” You smile, “The avengers idea!”
Your eyes glance over the group of you - you were Black Widow, Tom was Hawkeye, Tuwaine: the Hulk, Harrison: Captain America, Harry was Iron Man and Sam was Thor. You’d never been so proud of yourselves when the idea actually came off well.
“Why didn’t you go as Spider-Man?” You frown, looking at another photo of the night.
He laughs, “We said we’d go as the original group!”
The laughter settles as you move onto another one, the two of you on your first holiday together. Tom had taken you to Barcelona for your birthday and it had been the most under planned trips ever. The hotel ended up misbooking you so you had to find somewhere last minute, your flights got mixed up too and Tom forgot to book the restaurant that he’d been planning for your actual birthday evening. But it couldn’t have been more perfect. You spent the evenings hand in hand around the streets, you found quaint little corner shops and cafes that sufficed to make the entire weekend something you’d never forget.
“God, I really fucked up with that one!” Tom shakes his head, flicking through a few failed photos that an old couple had taken of you two.
“No, don’t be silly,” You defend, “It was beautiful.”
He smiles lightly and the two of you immerse yourself in more photos, organising them into the years of memories that you’d made together over your relationship. You slot the final photo into an album and set it into the box with the others - one for each year.
“(Y/n) I’m really sorry,” Tom begins, evidently returning back to his initial reasoning for coming home, “I didn’t mean to miss that event, and I know it was completely stupid of me to forget. I should’ve spoken to you and told you what I was doing. And if I’d have remembered, I would’ve been there with you.”
You look down at your hands in your lap.
“I know I can’t blame this on my forgetfulness or just act like this was a silly, forgettable mistake, because it wasn’t. Darling, you’ve always been there for me, every event, every premiere, everything- you’re always by my side. And, on one night where I should’ve been doing the same, I was ignorant and didn’t think of you as much as I should’ve done. As much as I should always do,” He sighs, the frown between his brows increasing, “You don’t deserve to be treated like that. God, if I’d have been there, I would’ve been proud beyond belief of you, of everything you’re achieving. You melt my heart with how unbelievably proud you make me and it kills me that I didn’t show you that when I should’ve done.”
You reach over and squeeze his hand, “Tom, we’ll keep going around in circles if we keep talking about this.”
His mouth parts and it’s like you see his heart sink, “What are you saying?”
“Dance with me,” You mumble, reaching over to play the music through the speakers once again.
It’s ‘Falling’ from Harry Styles’ album that starts playing and it seems awfully bittersweet for the moment. It doesn’t exactly fit but you don’t care.
You pull Toms hands and wrap your arms around him as he does the same to you. He’s uncertain at first but soon relaxes into your body being against him. He holds you close and lets your head hear the calming beat of his heart against his chest. You take in a shaky breath and feel like you’re holding him close enough to mold him back into you, into every part of your body and your mind.
“I love you,” Tom whispers against your hair, dipping his head down to bring the words as close to you as possible.
It feels like the first time in forever where he says those words and they really sink into your veins like they did when they’d first left his lips.
And, somehow, it brings you back to everything that had ever mattered. Something you’d managed to almost lose. Us.
Sitting on mob Tom's lab all the time in public is a mood
A/N: here's a little scenerio with a sassy reader
Tom was obviously growing annoyed as his hands started to ball into a fist, thumbing the table in a pattern. "So he didn't give you the money so you you just let him go?"
Tom was dressed in his best suit, tailed perfectly to fit every round of muscles and lean of his body. He was whispering with a clenched jaw with his men close. The Gala was no place for this business but somehow it still ended up as so. He was the guest of honor tonight, seeing he donated 500,000 dollars to the charity.
Tom's arm comes around the man, hand gripping his shoulder a little too tight but to anyone else it would look like two friends greeting each other. "What kind of business do I run?"
"sir, I -."
"I asked what kind of business do I run."
The man looked down, obviously frightened. "Money first, no matter the cost."
"now go get me my fucking money." Tom didn't notice his fiance as she stepped closer, hearing every word he spoke and frowned deeply. He promised this wouldn't happen tonight.
"sweetheart." He greets softly, mostly because her gaze was enough to make him know he was in trouble. "You look beautiful, gorgeous. The most beautiful woman in the world."
"save it Tommy. You promised." He groans loudly, pulling her closer with his arms, bringing lips to her ear and whispering. "If these idiots would do their job there wouldn't have been a problem. I'm sorry darling."
Suddenly music began to play, Tom took her hand softly guiding her to the table but not pulling her chair out, instead patting his lap. Despite her attitude, she took her usual spot as Tom's left hand began rubbing the small of her back which was exposed from the dress. The tip of his nose trails up her jaw, laying a soft kiss where the jaw connects to the temple. "You do look like an angel."
"you can't sweet talk your way out of this one Thomas." She puts a sweet smile as she waves at the people who pass welcoming them both.
"I hate when you call me that." He mumbles lowly, thumb still rubbing the softness of her back, soaking in the warmth. "I'm sorry angel, I know I promised. No more tonight. Just me and you baby."
"I've heard that one before." Tom rolls his eyes, but rests his head against her shoulder not before laying a kiss there. "I promise."
"we saw how that worked out last time."
"here." He pulls the phone from his pocket, turning it off and holding it for her to take. She gladly does, locking it in her clutch. "I super promise."
"Hmmmm." She giggles softly, "That's new but I'll take it."
His thumb stops, now taking his whole hand to the softness of her back pushing her closer to him. "Now give me a kiss."
"yes Tommy." He smiles at the name, the one he should be called and closes the gap between them. That's until the ringing of guns pierce the air and whizzing of bullets come only inches from the both of them and Tom is pulling her into him. Using his body to shield her as he pulls them down under the table.
Word Count: 3k
Warnings: oof kinda angsty?? sad tom. but cuddles to make up for it.
Summary: tom’s tired of his job taking him away from home, away from you
A/N: a million years later, and i’ve finally written something!! big oof. i appreciate how patient y’all are w my (lack) of writing. the semester is done for me pretty soon, so hopefully i’ll be able to post more once i’m done w school. this is based off of the tide by niall horan which is a great song and i love it so so much. i would very much appreciate feedback on this, lots of love to all of you 💛
Masterlist
(moodboard by my favorite @marvelousxtsh)
Music and chatter from the people in the packed bar pounded in Tom’s ears, almost drowning out his own thoughts. Almost. That was the key word. He wanted to ignore his thoughts, knowing that dwelling on them wouldn’t be any help, that they were only going to suffocate him, but he couldn’t. One of his hands sat on the wooden bar top, fingers tracing absentminded circles against the grain. The other held his beer which was barely half empty, and only his first of the night. In all honesty, he didn’t want to be here in this stuffy bar, but it was tradition. A tradition his friends refused to let die. Tom was leaving in the morning for filming his next big movie, and every time he left, his brothers and closest friends gathered to have one more night of fun. It was all starting to get a bit much, though - he was gone far more often than he was home. Gone from you more than he ever wanted to be.
Though he was living his dream, it didn’t feel right. He was always leaving, and never felt like he got comfortable enough where he was. Even when he was home for a significant amount of time, he never felt at home. There was always the lingering feeling of unrest, of being pulled away again, knowing that he’d never be able to stay for too long. It was as if he was standing in the ocean, the waves crashing into him. And then, as soon as it seemed like it had all calmed, the tide violently swept him away. Away from you, away from home, away from where he wanted to be.
Tom wasn’t oblivious to how hard it was on you. He knew. It was in the way you sounded on the phone, exhausted and heavy-hearted, up early in the morning so the two of you could talk before he went to bed. It was clear when you answered his facetime calls, eyes puffy and sniffling as if you’d just been crying. Even your texts to him - the ones gushing about how much you loved and missed him - read to him like heartache and distress. Someone else could treat you better, he was sure of that.
His eyes drifted up from the counter as he heard his name being called from what seemed to be a far-off place. Harry, one of his younger brothers, was trying to tell him a story, but it was all background noise. Tom nodded along as if he was listening, but his mind was still elsewhere. He’d caught sight of you standing next to his best friend, Harrison, leaning into him and laughing as he told you some stupid joke. The sight made his heart clench, but not in a good way, like it had the first time he’d introduced the two of you to each other and saw that you were going to get along. This time, it was followed by a sharp pang of guilt and fear. Tom knew that neither of you would ever do that, but it was hard not to think that someone like Harrison could be better for you. Someone who could be there for you more often that he could. Still, the feeling twisted up his insides, an overwhelming urge to cry caught in his throat and pricked his eyes, threatening to spill over his lashes.
Earlier in the evening, Tom’s arm had been wrapped around your waist as you stood next to his chair, leaning into his side. You weren’t exactly thrilled with tonight’s plans, but you weren’t about to say that. His friends loved this tradition they’d come up with, and it seemed like Tom did too, so you weren’t going to get in the way - you weren’t the only important person in his life. Leaning against his side, you nudged your nose into the crook of his neck, pressing a soft kiss there. You would’ve been content to stay like that, but you knew that if you were going to get through the night (and the next morning, for that matter) that you’d need at least one more drink. After giving Tom one last kiss, you waltzed off in search of something new to down, and to keep the thoughts of Tom leaving out of your mind.
A new drink in your hand, Harrison managed to catch your attention - effectively keeping you away from Tom’s side, unintentionally, of course - with some new story that he just needed to tell you. As much as you wanted to get back to Tom, Harrison really was funny, and honestly was one of your best friends. You were lucky that you got along so well with your boyfriend’s best friend. You’d gotten along from the start, but after the first time Tom had left to go shoot a new movie, it felt like Harrison was really the only one you could turn to, like he was the only one who really understood what it was like. Somehow, Harrison had become one of your best friends, someone you could always turn to.
Caught up in Harrison’s story, you missed how quiet Tom had gotten, and his telltale signs of crying. Instead, you elbowed Harrison as you laughed at something stupid he said. He threw his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. It was normal enough - not something too out of the ordinary, and in any other moment, he wouldn’t care - but for Tom, it felt like another stab. Clutching his beer between his palms, his head dipped down, squeezing his eyes tightly to try to avoid the tears that were coming.
Harrison began telling another story, only to realize that Tom hadn’t heard it either. Scanning the room for his friend, he lit up as he called out for him, “Tom, you have to-” He cut himself off as Tom’s head shot up, the back of his hand wiping across his cheeks to dry a few tears. “You okay, mate?”
Your head snapped up in the direction of your boyfriend as you wondered what could be wrong, only to be met with his soft brown eyes filled with tears. He nodded, trying to play it cool and act like nothing was wrong, but you could see through it; you knew him better than that. Tom could be an emotional person sometimes, but never like this, never in public. Immediately, your heart sank at the sight and you let go of Harrison, pushing your drink onto the bar top, and made your way over to your boyfriend. His head dropped before you could even make it over to him.
“Hey,” you murmured quietly, not wanting to draw too much attention. Moving your hands to cup Tom’s jaw to lift it up gently, you ducked your head down to meet his gaze, “what’s wrong, baby?”
Tom’s head shook, eyelashes fluttering rapidly in an attempt to avoid any tears falling. “N-nothing, I’m okay, don’t worry about me, yeah?” his voice faltered as he spoke, even as he tried to brush it off, attempting to lift his hand past yours to brush a tear away.
“Tom,” you whispered, lifting your thumb up from where it was resting on his jaw to wipe the tears away, “c’mon, bub, talk to me.” Leaning in closer, you rested your forehead against his carefully, thumbs still brushing over his cheeks soothingly.
Pulling his bottom lip between his teeth, a broken sigh left Tom’s lips, “I’m just- I’m jus’ tired. Wanna go home with you.”
“Okay, baby, let’s go then, yeah?” you whispered back without hesitation, pulling away just enough to press a soft kiss to his forehead.
“In a minute, yeah,” he mumbled, only barely audible over the noise of the bar. Tom’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to stand between his legs. Tilting his head forward, he rested his forehead against your chest just underneath your collarbones, letting out a sigh. Forearms resting against his shoulders, you slid your fingers into the short curly brown locks at the back of his head, resting your chin against the top of his head gently. Your fingers ran through his hair, nails scratching at his scalp lightly, in a way that you hoped was relaxing.
You stayed that way for a while, standing between Tom’s legs with his arms around your waist, his grasp on you tight. You’d stay that way for as long as he wanted, if it meant it would do at least a little to help him feel better. One of your hands stayed in his hair, twisting the strands around your fingers, as your other hand moved down to his back, rubbing circles slowly. Finally, his head lifted and it seemed as if some of the fog had cleared. He let out a sigh, hand slipping into yours, fingers interlocking tightly, “Let’s go home.” Clutching onto his hand, the two of you said your goodbyes to his friends and brothers - with him refusing to let go of your hand, even as he hugged his brothers.
The car ride home was quiet, the only sound being the rain pounding against the windshield and top of the car. You knew that things weren’t better, that Tom wasn’t feeling any better yet, but you weren’t going to push it, especially as he was driving home. Maybe after the two of you got some comfy clothes and cuddled up in bed. Then. Then you’d ask. Honestly, you were a little bit scared of what might be bothering him, but you needed to know. You couldn’t just let him suffer in silence.
Tessa’s paws scattered across the hardwood floor the second the door opened as she came running to greet the two of you. The tiniest bit of a smile pulled at the corner’s of Tom’s lips as Tessa crashed into his legs. For the first time since you left the bar, you slipped your hand out of Tom’s, feeling like Tessa was enough of a distraction as you took your jacket and shoes off. As Tom stood up to take his own shoes off, you slipped your hands under his jacket on his shoulders, helping him shrug the jacket off. Leaning up on your toes slightly, you pecked his lips gently, murmuring against them, “Cuddles?”
“Yes please,” he mumbled, grabbing onto your hand again as soon as you hung up his jacket.
“Alright, c’mon then, baby,” you pressed another kiss to his cheek, leading him down the hallway to the bedroom. He trailed a few steps behind you, feet moving slowly; whatever was on his mind was still weighing him down heavily.
Dragging Tom into the middle of the room, you let go of his hand to get some clothes out of the dresser. He sat down on the edge of the bed, letting out a loud sigh as he rubbed his hands over his face. You dropped the clothes onto the bed next to him, your hands coming up to cup his cheeks again. Giving him a small smile, you leaned down and tilted his head up so you could press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. The action made him return the smile, even if only slightly, the crinkles by his eyes returning for a split second as his nose scrunched up.
He knew that you were avoiding asking the question, for the time being, at least, and he really appreciated it. He also knew that you were purposely being gentle with him, and taking care of him the best way you knew how, and while he could certainly make it to bed and find pajamas to wear by himself, he certainly wasn’t going to complain.
Your fingers tugged at the fitted black shirt that stretched across his chest, carefully pulling it over his head and tossing it to the ground to join the growing pile of both of your clothes from the past few days. You leaned down again, pecking his lips as you handed him the pajama shirt for him to put on, not wanting to baby him too much, “Gonna wash my face then we can cuddle, yeah?” He nodded, tilting his head up to return the quick kiss before you walked off to the bathroom.
By the time you returned wearing only one of Tom’s old shirts and a pair of underwear, Tom was already under the blankets, scrolling through his phone as he waited for you. The sound of your footsteps caused him to look up and turn off his phone, putting it aside. For the first time since you got home, there was a real smile on his face, and that made you smile, too.
Climbing onto the bed next to him, you slipped underneath the sheets, scooting in closer and holding your arms out to him, “C’mere, baby.” You figured it’d be the kind of night where Tom wanted to be cuddled, and you were more than okay with that. Tom moved in closer to you, letting out a small sigh as he slid one of his arms around your waist, positioning himself so that he could nuzzle into the crook of your neck, his lips pressing softly to your skin.
One of your hands slid into his short curls, recently cut for his new role. You were always the first person to confess your love for the long curls that fell onto his forehead, but you had to admit that you were a sucker for the shorter hair. Your other hand slid over his shoulder to the expanse of his back, pulling him in closer to you and pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.
As much as you didn’t want to see Tom upset again, you knew that you needed to ask him what was bothering him. He was the kind of person who would keep it all inside, only hurting him more in the end. After a few moments of comfortable silence, your fingers sifting through his hair and your palm rubbing against his back soothingly, you finally got up the courage to ask the question, “You gonna tell me what’s really bothering you, babe?”
His warm breath fanned across your neck as he sighed out heavily, immediately fighting back the tears as his thoughts from earlier - the ones he’d nearly forgotten - came flooding back to him. The feeling caught in his throat again as he struggled to mumble out, “I just don’t wanna go again.” He paused for a second, taking in a ragged breath, “Just wanna be with you.” You could feel your heart breaking again, knowing just how much this was tearing him apart. As much as you didn’t want him to leave, either, you needed to be strong for him right now.
Tom blinked rapidly, eyelashes fluttering against your neck, leaving a few of his tears behind. Taking in a deep breath of your own, you maneuvered your positioning so you could cup your boyfriend’s face in your palms. Your thumbs brushed out across his cheeks lightly to wipe away any of the tears that had fallen as soon as you shifted to be face to face with him.
“Hey…” your voice just barely above a whisper as you pressed your forehead against his gently, “I don’t want you to go again, either, but you’ll be back so soon. And I’m not going anywhere. ‘M gonna be right here when you get back, love.”
This crushed Tom even more, as much as it comforted him; he felt guilty for always leaving you, knowing that you’re life kind of revolved around him and his schedule, always waiting on him. Burying his face back into the crook of your neck, he let out a broken sob, finally choking out, “Feel like ‘m al-always leavin’ you behind, a-an’ it’s n-not fair to you. As soon as I come home, I-I hav’ta leave again.”
“Oh, baby…” you murmured, holding Tom as close as possible as his tears continued to wet your skin, the collar of your shirt getting damp, “I love you, Tom. Even though it sucks when you’re gone, it’s worth every single second I get to spend with you. You are worth all of it.”
Tom’s arms wrapped around your waist, squeezing you impossibly tight as he hiccuped again, “I know i-it’s stupid, but I- I’m scared you’re gonna fi-find someone else. S-someone who could be here for you more often, like Haz.”
Cupping his jaw once more, you looked into his soft brown eyes, making sure that he was looking directly at you as you spoke firmly, keeping your voice soft, “You’re the only person I could ever want, Tommy. Sure someone else might be around more often, but they wouldn’t be you. I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
Eyes meeting yours, he hiccuped again before nodding slowly. Realistically, he knew all of these things - knew that you wouldn’t leave him for someone else, knew that everything would be okay - but he just needed to hear them. Placing one of his hands over yours that was resting on his cheek, one side of his mouth tugged up into an almost-smile, “I love you.”
“I love you, too,” you murmured, your thumb brushing away a few stray tears as you pecked his lips lightly, “You’re stuck with me, bub.”
Holding your free hand out in the small space between the two of you, you stuck your pinky out. This time, a real smile - though still a small one - found its way to Tom’s lips as his pinky wrapped around yours, both of you leaning in to kiss the other’s finger.
“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” he mumbled back, this time grabbing your face to pull you in and kiss you deeply, pouring all of his love for you into the kiss.
It didn’t take long until Tom had calmed down, his breathing even again as you wiped the last of his tears away. However, that didn’t stop you from continuing to reassure him that you weren’t going anywhere, and that all of it was worth it to be with him. You spent the rest of the night trying to get him to smile, to see the crinkles by his eyes and to hear his giggle that you loved so much. The two of you finally fell asleep, wrapped up in each other’s arms with smiles on your faces, even knowing that Tom would be leaving in the morning. It was always these moments that made it all worth it in the end.
