#*tom blurbs

6. “Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.”

14. “Can you shut up for once in your life?” 

i tried my best! idk if it was what you wanted, but i hope you like it. contains swear words and implied mature themes (no smut tho)

you weren’t sure how it had reached this point. one minute you were telling tom about how one of his comments made you feel bad and the next you were in the midst of a full-blown argument. your chest was heaving, your lungs aching from yelling. tom wasn’t any better off, angrily running a hand through his newly cut hair, seemingly forgetting it was a lot shorter now. tessa had retreated to somewhere in the apartment where you couldn’t see her and you didn’t blame her. you wanted to go hide yourself. 

“forget it, you’re a fucking asshole,” you spit, giving up on trying to make him understand how you were feeling. he wasn’t getting it. 

“i didn’t do anything,” he almost whines, throwing his hands up in the air frustratingly, and you want to smack the underlying childish tone out of his voice. didn’t do anything, my ass. 

“you’re not even trying to understand where i’m coming from!” you chide, angrily digging your nails into the palms of your hands. “i was just trying to tell you how i feel and you dismiss it completely. you weren’t even trying to listen.” 

“because it doesn’t make any sense, y/n! i didn’t say anything and definitely nothing to make you this upset.” 

“you said that zendaya had the best body,” the defeat in your voice is painfully obvious, but you don’t know if tom notices. “you know how insecure i am about you and zendaya and for you to say that…” 

“what’re you talking about?” 

“you told harrison that zendaya had the best body! you specifically said, ‘z has the best body. no doubt. she’s beautiful’. i heard you, and i tried to pretend i didn’t hear it but all i can think about when you touch me is you imagining her instead of me. it hurts, tom” your voice cracks and the sound makes the hardened expression on his face evaporate. 

“darling-” 

“no! i need you to listen, please,” you ignore the tears running down your face, undoubtedly leaving a trail of mascara. “you don’t get to dismiss my feelings whenever you please. my feelings matter, too, and-” 

“can you shut up for once in your life?” his outburst successfully halts your rant. mostly because he rarely - if ever - told you to shut up. he steps closer to you and despite the urge to step backward, you remain in the same spot. “sorry. i just needed you to be quiet so i can explain, yeah? i didn’t mean to yell.” 

you swallow, angrily wiping at your tears with the sleeve of your - well, tom’s - hoodie. more often than not, heated arguments like this one resulted in you crying and you hated it. it was pathetic, you knew it, but you couldn’t stop once the first tear fell. tom is only an arm’s length away now, but he stops there, once again running a hand through his hair, a shaky exhale escaping him. 

“harrison asked me which one of my female costars had the best body,” tom begins, wincing at his own words. “i shouldn’t have answered, but it was just meaningless talk. i promise. and don’t you think for a second that i imagine her when i’m with you. i’m thinking of you and you only. i think about your beautiful eyes, and your unusually soft hair. you get that, right?” 

you don’t trust your voice, refusing to make yourself even more vulnerable. “mhm.” 

his fingers push your chin up gently and you meet his coffee-colored orbs, immediately recognizing the sadness and regret within them. you ignore the instinct to hug him and swallow again, determined to keep the lump still lingering in your throat down. tom studies your face momentarily, his eyes darting across all the familiar features. 

“i mean it,” he whispers. “just ask jacob. ask haz or sam. i talk about you all the time. you have the best body. your body is drop-dead gorgeous. so utterly and effortlessly beautiful. these—” his thumb tickles your lips. “are amazing. and not just for kissing.” 

you smack his chest and he chuckles before continuing, 

“these—” he grins playfully as he cups your chest. “are so fucking beautiful. and this—” his hand moves down to your pajama bottom-clad butt. “is one of my favorite things about you. this—” his hand dips underneath the oversized hoodie and he strokes your bare belly. “is so soft and i love how you squeal when i kiss it.” 

“because it tickles, you dickwad.” 

tom chuckles sadly. “i’m so fucking sorry, darling. i shouldn’t have said anything about zendaya. just, please, know that i love you and that your body is a goddamn wonderland, yeah?” 

“it’s okay for you to say that she’s attractive,” you mumble, sniffling. 

“i know, and she is, but you are so much better in my eyes. so much better. can i kiss you now, please? like i said, your lips are amazing.” 

you swat at his chest again, croaking out a giggle. he presses his lips against yours and you instantly melt into him, forgetting about the stupid argument and the hurtful words you had thrown at each other. every relationship deals with some kind of jealousy and insecurity, you figured, and it is normal. as long as it is resolved before it becomes a critical issue, a little jealousy is healthy. in the end, you know that tom loves you and that is all that matters. 

1. “I can’t do anything right.”

15. “I missed you so much.”

hope you like it, love! 🌟

you knew. as soon as your phone lit up, his name flashing across the screen, you knew. momentarily, you contemplated letting the phone call go to voicemail, not wanting to hear what he had to say. but you missed him - you missed his voice - so you answered anyway. you could already tell by his voice that you were right. he wasn’t going to make it.

“i’m sorry, darlin’, i really am. i told them i couldn’t stay an extra day but apparently, they booked a last-minute press thing i can’t miss.”

as for how excuses went, this one was the one you liked the least. it was one you had heard numerous times throughout your (almost) three years together and it didn’t get any easier. it came with his job, he had been pretty adamant about that as your relationship got more serious. you accepted it and you supported him, but it didn’t make the cons of his job any easier. dating a world-famous actor was tough, you knew that much, and sometimes it fucking sucked.

admittedly, it wasn’t his fault, but you still felt the disappointment and frustration bubble within your stomach and you had nowhere to direct it except at tom. exhaling deeply, you nibbled at your lip as you tried to form an acceptable response. you weren’t in the mood to argue, but the feelings were difficult to swallow.

“i can’t do anything right.”

“what do you mean?” tom questioned through the phone.

“i-i just feel like no matter what i do, nothing goes the way i want it to. i got yelled at again at work, marley is still mad at me, and i-i just really wanted to celebrate our anniversary together. i had the whole thing planned.”

there was a noise coming from his side of the phone call and as he released yet another sigh, you knew what message was coming. tom apologized about five times before he bid his final goodbye and ended the phone call. you could tell he was sorry; his apologies were genuine. but you couldn’t help but think how he could’ve tried a little harder.

so, you put away the ingredients you had brought out to bake his favorite dessert, deciding it could wait for whenever he came home. you retreated to the living room, plopping down on the sofa with a sigh. you tossed your phone down next to you, knowing you wouldn’t need it anytime soon. tessa cuddled up next to you on the sofa, her snout resting on your bare feet. you fell asleep like that, wrapped up in tom’s favorite blanket and the tv playing old episodes of csi.

the next day was fairly uneventful as well. nikki had stopped by with paddy; the two of you hadn’t had time to catch up in a while, but you knew the youngest holland had come to play with his canine friend. eventually, they bid their goodbyes, letting you know that you were welcome to come over whenever you wanted. you thanked her for the kind offer and closed the door, once again left alone in the small house with tessa. the grey staffy was perfect company, but you were beginning to crave human attention - tom’s attention.

after watching titanic, which you had randomly came across while going through the channels, you decided to clean up the glasses left after your guests. while doing so, you found paddy’s new earbuds on the counter. you sent him a quick snapchat to let him to know, to which he responded with a bunch of sad emojis. telling him to stop by and get it whenever he has the chance, you placed your phone back down on the counter and began unloading the dishwasher. tessa’s paws scratched against the hardwood floors as she came to investigate the noise you were making. you cooed at her, apologizing for getting her hopes up about food, and she grunted and plopped down in the middle of the kitchen floor. she stayed like that while you continued your chore until the doorbell rang, startling you both.

“who could that be, huh, tess? let’s go see, yeah?”

wiping your hands on the dishtowel hanging from oven, you looked at tessa before heading toward the door. she followed you closely, eager to see what new guests might be hiding behind the door. it was comforting, having her with you. there was no doubt within your body that she would protect you if, god forbid, uninvited guests made their way into the house. the staffy had been shared between all the hollands, but when you moved in with tom and his schedule got busier and busier, he had insisted she stay with you.

“hey, paddy, here to pick up your- tom?” your voice dripped with confusion and your boyfriend responded with a sheepish smile.

tessa whined happily, forcefully pushing her head between your leg and the door to great her owner. tom bent down immediately, rubbing her head affectionately, his eyes never leaving yours. he cleared his throat and stood back up, readjusting the strap of his bang slung over his shoulder. you suddenly realized he was still standing outside his own home and opened the door for him. he stepped inside, a silence you couldn’t quite place falling over you.

“what are you doing here?”

“i missed you so much,” he admitted, his earnest coffee-colored orbs meeting yours. “and i couldn’t miss our anniversary. three years together is a big deal and i want you to know how much it means to me. i-i told them to reschedule the press thing.”

“tom…” you wanted to tell him that he shouldn’t have, that he didn’t have to do that for you, but the words wouldn’t come out. “thank you.”

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world, darling. i had the entire day planned out, too, y’know?”

“oh yeah?” you teased, wrapping your arms around his neck. his familiar scent entered your nostrils and you immediately felt yourself relax. “wanna tell me about it then?”

“no!” tom chuckled, one hand firmly placed on your waist as he dropped his bag to the floor. “you’ll just have to wait and see. one more night. you can handle that, can’t you?”

“we’ll see. you know i’m not good with surprises.”

2. “Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” 

5. “OH you’re jealous!”

14. “Am I your lockscreen?” “You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“am i your lock screen?” 

i tried 🤷🏻‍♀️

his question is innocent enough and if you hadn’t gotten to know him as well as you had over the past few months, you definitely wouldn’t have thought too much of it. you grimace immediately, glancing over at your newly-found best friend. there’s a playful glimmer in his eyes and you stop yourself from smacking it away.

“you weren’t supposed to see that,” you grumble immediately and turn your phone around so the lock screen is no longer visible, undoubtedly red as a tomato. that’s how warm your cheeks feel, at least. 

it was quite normal for best friends to have each other as wallpapers on your phones, you knew that much. you knew tom knew that, too. the thing is: the two of you hadn’t been friends for that long. frankly, you weren’t even sure if he considered you one of his best friends like you considered him yours. you had only met a few months prior, through harrison, but the chemistry had been there from day one. it was almost creepy, harrison would joke, how easily the two of you had gotten along. you’d think you had grown up with tom and not harrison. 

“is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” 

this time you do swat at him, wanting the smirk dancing on his lips to go away. he feigns being hurt, wrapping his arms around himself to protect his chest from any future attack. you pretend not to notice how the muscles in his arms move when he does. averting your eyes from where the grey cotton fabric of his t-shirt met his skin to his eyes, you clear your throat. 

“you weren’t supposed to see that,” you repeat again, an exasperated huff escaping you. 

“i don’t mind you having me as your lock screen, darlin’,” you ignore the flutter in your heart at the affectionate nickname. it wasn’t reserved just for you, you knew that. “it’s a cute picture of us. can you send it to me?” 

you huff again, your cheeks finally beginning to cool back down. pushing away the embarrassment lingering in the pit of your stomach, you grumble and reach for your phone. you unlock it quickly, purposefully hiding the image adorning the screen from tom. his phone lights up in his lap a few moments later and he nods, thanking you. you return the nod subtly, nibbling at your bottom lip as you open Instagram. it wasn’t that you didn’t want to hang out with him, you just needed a quick break. 

tom seems to return his attention back to the movie harrison had put on and you suddenly wonder how long his supposed phone call was going to take. a video of a random guy you had found on tiktok shows up on your feed and you click the little microphone in the corner, unmuting the video. his american accent crackles through the speakers of your phone as he starts to talk about his newest tiktok fail. you listen intently the story, unable to stop the genuine laugh bubbling up your throat. 

“what’re you watching?” 

“benji. a guy i found on tiktok.” 

“why are you following him on instagram?” tom asks, furrowing his brows as if to add more innocence to the question. “if you found him on tiktok?” 

you shrug, looking back down to catch the end of the video. “he’s cute.” 

“he looks stupid,” tom mutters, barely sparing a glance toward the guy talking animatedly on your phone. “why does he talk like that?” 

the sudden annoyance in his voice catches you slightly off-guard. you had gotten to know him well and you been around enough people to know when they were annoyed by something, but you had yet to see tom upset over something. harrison had shared plenty of stories on his behalf, of course, much to tom’s dismay. like the one time he had attempted to do a cool flip but ended up running into a lamp post (”shut up. it’s not funny” “but it is though!”). 

“why’re you- oh, you’re jealous,” it’s a joke. he had teased you about your lock screen and you were determined to return the favor. he doesn’t seem to hear the hint of teasing in your voice, though. 

“what? no! why- i’m not jealous. what a dumb thing to say.” 

you’ve paused the instagram video, but you’re too bewildered to notice the hilarious freeze-frame. tom continues to mumble under his breath, picking at a spot on his jeans that apparently was very interesting. you could feel your forehead wrinkle as you pulled your brows together out of confusion. if he feels your expectant look on him, he doesn’t say anything. 

“dude, you’re definitely jealous. you reek of jealousy. i can smell it from here,” harrison’s voice causes both of your heads to snap toward the sound. the blond smirks, waving a hand in front of his face to put emphasis on his words. 

“shut up, harrison.” 

“all i’m saying is,” he drags out the word, pursing his lips together, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jeans. “you two couldn’t be more oblivious about your feelings and it’s getting annoying.” 

#16 “YOU SAID TO BE HONEST STOP HITTING ME!”

#18 “I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.”

this sucks and i’m so sorry. i’m just trying to get these blurbs out there bc i’m so late answering all of them 😅

“i’m too sober for this,” you admitted, shaking your head at the plan the group of boys had just suggested. 

“you don’t even drink.”

“maybe i should start,” you stated, shrugging your shoulders. “there’s no way i’m playing truth or dare with you guys right now. i know you. already without the drinks you’ve had, you’d make me do dumb stuff.”

harrison chuckled, tipping his head back to take another chug of his beer. sam shrugged, not even bothering to object your declaration. the holland brothers and the honorary, practically-a-holland-boy harrison, had had their fun with you for years. the first time they had tricked you into playing truth or dare with them, you had been unsuspecting of their antics. you quickly learned the hard way, however, when harry dared you to shot an entire bottle of hot sauce. 

naturally, you had gotten your revenge a few months later when the group invited you to yet another game. harry had been brave enough to choose dare when it was your turn (”y/n never comes up with anything good anyway”) and you had made him eat a spoonful of tessa’s food. needless to say, he had spent the next ten minutes sputtering and chugging water all the while digging his eyes into you. 

“d’you want one then, love?” 

“huh?” 

tom held his hand out, fingers wrapped around the newly opened beer bottle. “a drink.” 

“no, thanks. someone has be the sober one in case one you losers need to go the emergency room.” 

the boys quickly accepted your answer but kept pestering you. they were playing amongst themselves, pausing ever so often to attempt to convince you. they were merely exchanging harmless truths and a few dares, but you knew they were just warming up. more intense stuff was about to happen any minute. tom begged you again, after answering whether he’d kiss jacob or harrison, and you gave in. what the hell, right? 

they didn’t wait long to include you, sam asking you as soon as it was your turn. you chose truth, knowing the younger holland would go easy on you to start with. you were right. when stating you wanted truth, he asked you to read the last text you had received, which was one from tom asking when you were coming over. 

eventually, it was your turn, and you were determined to coax a truth out of your brown-eyed best friend. “tom, truth or dare?” 

“truth.”

“would you rather have a broken arm or broken leg? be honest.”

“lame,” harry whined, slouching back into his seat on the sofa. 

tom thought about it momentarily. “broken leg. i need my hand for certain reasons.” 

your fist collided with his upper arm when he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. everybody in the room knew it was innocent fun, but you preferred not to talk about sexual encounters. especially because your mind tended to wander. 

“but then again, maybe you could help me out. so, broken arm?”

your cheeks grew warm immediately and you hit his arm again, hoping you hit in the previous spot so it would increase the pain. the two of you often exchanged mindless banter like that; anyone outside of the friend group always thought the two of you were dating. the possibility had come up in a conversation once, but neither of you had acted on it. 

“you said be honest,” tom exclaimed, a pinkish layer covering his cheeks. you didn’t know whether it was from the alcohol consumption or whistle that harrison had let out. “stop hitting me!” 

“stop saying highly suggestive things if you’re not gonna act on them,” you countered, a newfound burst of confidence within you. even without the alcohol you had said you needed. 

“who said i wouldn’t?”

i didn’t know if you wanted the reader to be of color or whatever, but that’s what i ended up doing bc i feel like we need more poc representation

disclaimer: i am literally as white as one can be (unfortunately), so i am not claiming i know what this is like and i’m really not trying to offend anybody

tom’s fingers were clenched tightly, the skin stretching over his knuckles almost turning as white as the table the two of you were seated at. your eyes darted between the way his tightened fist and his eyes, attempting to determine what was going through his mind. his focus was anywhere but on you, his eyes trained on the table of bikers a few feet away. with a sigh, you glanced down at the black and white checkered floorboards, pretending to count them. eventually, the staring got old and you smoothed your forest green corduroy overalls, placing your hands neatly in your lap.

“tom,” you whispered, just barely catching his attention. “let it go.”

“i- they-they don’t get to speak to you that way.”

“just, please, let it go. i don’t want to cause any trouble. i’m just trying to have a nice time with my boyfriend.”

tom hooked his index finger inside the hem of his mock neck sweater, moving it around as if to loosen the fabric. he sighed, averting his eyes from the middle-aged men already on their third round of beer. his dark orbs met yours and they looked even darker in the dim light of the diner. they were narrow and you easily recognized the frustration swimming within them. you glanced over at the group, briefly, their insults more than fresh enough in your mind. although not as frequent, you still received spiteful comments and sometimes even threats - all because of the color of your skin. it wasn’t fair; you knew that and so did tom, but there wasn’t really anything you could do about it - no matter how much tom wanted to.

he had been ready to fight the three men the second their slurred hate speech left their mouths, but you had immediately grabbed his hand and shook your head. not being able to coax out the reaction they wanted from you, the three men had continued further into the diner and you were able to relax the minute they had. you could tell by the way that tom’s eyes had flickered back and forth between the menu placed in front of him and the man who had looked at you like you were dressed in a trash bag that the comment had bothered him more than you. you had experienced this kind of treatment for years and tom had only been with you for one of those.

“i just don’t get it. you don’t deserve to be treated like that, darlin’.”

“it’s not fair, i know, but that’s just how it is. i’ve stopped caring. you don’t care about my skin color and that’s all that matters.”

“i would never,” he blurted immediately, his eyes widening. “i fell in love with you. your extremely good looks are just an added bonus.”

you cheeks warmed up immediately at his words. “i love you, tommy.”

“i love you, too, love. more than you’ll ever know.”

“although i don’t want you to beat them up on my behalf, i’m really happy you’re willing to. thank you.”

“no need to thank me. i just want you to be treated the same as any other woman, is all. you deserve that.”

this is so cute!! ok ok ok,,, i hope i did it justice 

tom was overwhelmed with pride as alessia cara and her co-presenter introduced you. he clapped his hands together eagerly, welcoming you on stage alongside the rest of the bbma audience. your body language was a dead giveaway and tom immediately knew you were nervous. so, when your eyes scanned the crowd for his, he nodded with a wide grin on his face. you got this.

you nodded, too. if it was to respond to him or convince yourself, you didn’t know. the minute your hands wrapped around the neck of your guitar, though, every ounce of nervousness evaporated. this is what you did. this was your dream, and you weren’t going to let some nerves ruin one of the biggest steps of your career. 

you strummed your guitar. “hi, guys. uh, this is my new single for my upcoming album. it’s called unconditionally and, uh, i hope you guys love it as much as i do.” 

tom knew the song was about him, which made your performance even better - if that was possible. you had sung it for him the day before it was released; it had been just the two of you in your shared bedroom, rain pattering on the windows. tom swore he was going to marry you right then. the lyrics of the song were incredible by themselves, but your heavenly voice had made it unbelievable. 

the song had already climbed its way up the charts. it was week two of it being number three on billboard’s top 100, which was a huge deal for you. tom had taken you out to dinner the first night to celebrate. so far, you and your song had won two awards, but the night was still young and tom knew you had the ability to win more. 

after the first chorus, you realized the most of the audience had their phones up in the air, their flashlights shining bright. your eyes met with tom’s, who seemed to be too mesmerized to copy the actions of the crowd. his gaze never left yours, which seemed to make the song easier to sing. the words escaped your mouth effortlessly, dripping with sincerity. 

“i will love you unconditionally,” you finished, the crowd practically roaring.

tom was on his feet immediately, wiping at his eyes. it wasn’t his fault you were such an amazing singer. he knew he wouldn’t be able to describe just how proud he was, but he hoped you could feel it. as you met his gaze again, he blew you a kiss, which you pretended to catch, causing a murmur of ‘aw’s to move throughout the crowd. 

y’know what? bc i love you guys, i’ll do both! i’ve never written for harry either, so gotta start somewhere, i suppose

tom:

the loud thunder of the rollercoaster cracked above you, the passengers’ screams filling your ears; some of terror and some of pure happiness. you were suddenly grateful of the sunglasses placed on your nose, successfully hiding your displeased look. rollercoasters weren’t your thing, never really had been. tom looked ecstatic, his eyes dashing between you and the line constantly growing. you felt the cotton candy you had consumed about thirty minutes ago begin to invite itself back up and you swallowed thickly. wiping your palms against the material of your jean shorts, you glanced between the group of your friends already in line. 

“i don’t know, tom,” you sigh, refusing to let your boyfriend catch a glimpse of your widened eyes hiding behind your glasses. 

“aw, c’mon, it’ll be fun, darling. promise.” 

“why don’t you just go with sam and them? i’m sure you can sit with jacob or something.” 

tom averts his gaze from you and to the boy in question. his eyes meet yours again and he shakes his head. “i really want to go with you though.” 

he pushes out his bottom lip, sending you the cutest puppy-dog eyes he can muster. damn his cute face. tom knew exactly what his pleading eyes could do to you and you wanted to yell at him for deciding to use it in this exact moment. it wasn’t that you hated rollercoasters, but they weren’t your favorite pastime activity. the smaller, fun ones were enjoyable and you had gone on quite a few of them already, but the group had grown more adventurous and when zendaya suggested the jaguar, everybody had agreed instantaneously. 

“please,” tom pleads, his poking his bottom lip out further. “go with me?”

“fine,” you sigh again, this time in defeat. “as long as you hold my hand.” 

“’course. wouldn’t have it any other way, love. let’s go!”

and, so, he grabs your hand in his and practically drags you along to meet up with the rest of the group. they cheer loudly when they spot the two of you, apparently impressed that tom had been able to convince you. your turn comes soon enough - way too soon for your liking - but tom does as promised. he holds your hand tightly in his the whole time, yelling words of encouragement through his excited hollers. in the end, rollercoasters weren’t as bad as long as you were with tom. 

harry:

you could hear the fans before you saw them. sam had gracefully offered to take care of everybody’s luggage, which gave you one less thing to worry about, but it didn’t exactly help calm your rapidly beating heart. it wasn’t like you hadn’t encountered their fans before, but the group waiting outside the in arrival hall in bali sounded louder than anything you had heard before. tom was already on his way out, strolling happily to meet his fans, sam hot on his tail. 

“you alright?”

your head snaps toward the sound of harry’s voice. his curls bounce every-so-slightly as he tilts his head. he looks at you quizzically and you know he can read right through you. that’s what happens when you’ve been best friends for so long. sometimes, it was definitely a curse, seeing as you could never lie to him. tom had attempted to teach you a while ago - sharing his ‘deep dark actor secrets’ - but harry knew all your tell-tales. other times, like right now, it was an added bonus to your friendship. 

“go with me?”

he nods, a smile stretching across his lips. “’course.” 

you nod, too. to reassure yourself or harry, you don’t know. slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you tie your flannel around your waist, already feeling the humidity and climate change. you feel harry’s eyes scanning your face as you prepare yourself to meet the group of people waiting for the holland boys. 

“it’ll be fine. i’ll keep you safe. as long as you hold my hand.” 

you attempt to ignore your heated cheeks. “won’t that make it seem like we’re dating?”

“wouldn’t be so bad, would it? now come on.” 

before you can protest or respond to his declaration, the redhead is tugging you along with him. his camera is already turned on and ready to go, and as soon as he nears his older brother, he’s snapping photos left and right - his hand in yours the entire time. both sam and tom notice the affectionate hand-holding but neither of them say anything. you know they’ll interrogate the two of you later, but right now you’re content with harry’s relaxing touch and that’s all you decide to focus on.