Tomhollandfluff - Tumblr Posts - Page 2

exam motivation drabble

❧ prompt: there isn’t really a story to this. really, it’s, hopefully, a motivator for students, whatever age, to work hard in school and life. i hope this helps you destress and find your comfortable environment to study in.

❧ pairing: tom x legal student!reader

❧ genre: fluff, anti-stress, motivation

❧ warnings: literally none, this is a stress-free environment excuse me

❧ a/n: i just wanted to write something short and hopefully stress relieving for you readers because i know finals season is here. also, this applies to any tests or exams or finals or whatever thing your having. i hope that this will help you feel more inspiration to study and try your best in life in general. i made this a short drabble so you procrastinators can get inspired and open your books to study. i love you guys. don’t give up!

masterlist                     prompt list

You sat in the dark, a dim light shone on the worn-out pages of your thick notebook. Earbuds were stuffed deeply in your ears, the wire connected to your phone. The tunes of your favorite songs to study with played lightly in your ears. Your eyes scaled over your notes for what felt like the hundredth time that night. Once you reached the bottom of the page, you sat back, relaxing in your chair. You leaned your head back, hands coming up to rub your eyes. As your hands left surface they were rubbing, you immediately winced at the sudden brightness your eyes were met with. Warm hands were placed on your shoulders and your boyfriend’s face came into view.

Smiling, you pull out your earbuds, whispering, “Hi, Tommy.”

“Hey, darling,” he leaned down and kissed your cheek. “How’s studying going? You feel alright?” He asked, looking at the piles of notes messily laid on your desk.

“’M doing just fine. I’m right on schedule, no procrastinating this year,” you smiled, yawning.

“That’s great, love,” he began planting small pecks over your face, “So proud of you.”

Giggling when his lips met yours, you lifted your head from its position, “I’m proud of me, too. I think I’ll study some more tonight too.”

Pouting, Tom whined, “But you said we could watch movies tonight.”

Gently kissing the tip of his nose, you smile, “We can watch movies after I study a page more.” 

He let out a deep-throated groan, “Fine.”

“Love you, Tommy,” you bid him goodbye, reinserting your earbuds.

“Love you, too, princess,” he whispered back, noticing you had already delved back in your notes.

The amount of admiration and pride he had for you was unimaginable. Seeing you work so hard inspired him to work even harder in his career of acting. You were his pride and joy, and he was never going to let go of you.

Can you please please do one where mob Tom has to go on like a business meeting for like two months or something and can’t have contact with y/n and in those two months she starts working out and loses a bit of weight and he comes home all proud SMUT PLEASEE Im trying to lose weight and I would literally cry if someone was proud of my weight loss

two-for-one reward

❧ prompt: hard work always pays off, and the prize you get always varies

❧ pairing: mob!tom x reader

❧ genre: suggestive, fluff

❧ warnings: one curse word shit, mentions of hickeys, mentions of horniness, suggestive ending

❧ a/n: i decided to write this for the upcoming week because i have my finals and a lot of work to do for school that i’m stressed about oops so hopefully this’ll be enough content for now. i personally am also exercising, and may i just say, it’s the most rewarding thing ever. tips that i can give are to be do it for yourself and not others, as well as not to put yourself down. don’t stress about your results or not seeing improvement. you’re doing great as it is, and you should be proud that your taking action. i also did not write any smut in this for i don’t feel comfortable writing in such genre anymore, especially because i haven’t been dabbling in that area for a while. like i said in my other post, i will try to return to writing nsfw works, but for now, i will only be writing suggestive. i am so sorry :( i hope the suggestiveness is enough. enjoy xx

masterlist                     prompt list

Two weeks ago, Tom had to go on a trip for his business. Though he considered bringing you along, he didn’t want to involve you in the mob business further than you already were. He left you in the safety of his mansion, accompanied by many of his most trusted men. As much as he wanted to leave Harrison, Sam, or Harry with you, he needed them to come along with him on this mission as backup. 

Within the two weeks he had been gone, you had too much free time on your hands. Not being allowed to leave his property or invite friends over, you were left with barely any sources of entertainment.

One day, though, as you were walking down the large halls, two of Tom’s men trailing behind you, you noticed a room you never ventured in before. Letting your curiosity and boredom lead you, you made your way over to the opaque door. Placing a hand on the metal of the door handle, you winced at the chill that spiked the palm of your hand. Pulling the door open, you were met with a rack of weights placed beside the wall and a treadmill beneath a large television. Walking further into the room, on your right, there was a long pool filled with crystal, teal water. 

Turning to the men behind you, you asked, “Who’s gym is this?”

“Mr. Holland’s, of course,” one spoke up, “we usually aren’t allowed in here, though.”

Looking at the large mirror wall, you looked at your physique. You didn’t need to lose weight, as your body was already perfect as it was, but you could improve your muscle strength and stamina. With that, you decided that within the two weeks, to fill your time, you would work out everyday for hours on end. 

At the beginning of this strengthening journey, you were fatigued much more easily than you were compared to the end of the two week span. You ended every jogging session with your hands supporting your body on your knees, sweat dripping down your face, chest heaving as you panted for air. You could barely hold a plank for 15 seconds, and your arms were established to be weaker than you imagined as you dipped down to do your first pushup. Legs bending into a squat, you felt your thighs shaking by the time you reached twentieth rep. Every time you ended every workout, you felt rewarded and were proud when you looked in the mirror to see your figure tightening.

By the thirteenth day, and final day to yourself, you were much stronger and could hold yourself up for much longer. For the short amount of time you had exercised for, your results were extraordinary. You were much skinner and toned than you were when you began. 

That night, you fell asleep in the empty bed once more, your excitement over Tom coming back keeping you awake but the fatigue overpowered it and lulled you to sleep. 

The next morning, you woke bright and early, changing into a long-sleeved, green, lettuce-edged, wrap shirt paired with straight denim jeans. Doing your hair up into a ponytail, you applied a layer of toner and lotion to your face, finishing your look off with a lightly tinted chapstick. 

Rushing down the hallway, you heard the doors opening, followed by the familiar, accented voices.

You saw Tom taking big strides down the corridor you were practically sprinting through and jumped into his arms, shouting, “Tommy!”

“Woah, darling,” he chuckled as you nuzzled your face into the nape of his neck, “I missed you. I guess you missed me too?”

You only nodded in response.

Putting you back onto your feet, Tom looked you up and down, eyes surveying your body, “You look different,” you gave him a look, “In a good way,” he rushed to add on. “You look slimmer and more fit. Did you workout while I was gone? Or am I imagining shit?”

“Actually, i’m quite glad you noticed, but in fact, I did lose weight. I discovered your gym early on and decided to fill my time by working out,” you smiled proudly.

“Not that I didn’t love your body before, you look so hot right now. Would it be weird if I said I’m a little bit turned on?” He asked, a shy grin resting on his face.

“It definitely would be...” you paused for a moment, taking in Tom’s disgruntled expression, “weird if you hadn’t mentioned it. You have no idea how much I want you right now.”

Smirking, he lifted you in his arms, carrying you to the nearest vacant room he could find. His lips were already latched to yours, and, carrying you with one arm, he used his empty hand to strip you from your shirt.

“I’m so proud of you,” he mumbled onto your neck before sucking on the skin, leaving a dark purple mark behind. 

As the day progressed, many more marks were left all over your body that nobody, except for Tom, would be allowed to see: a prize given from Tom for your hard, impressive work.

Hi! I've recently discovered your blog and I love it 😍. I was also wondering, if you could write a fic (obviously if you like the idea, no pressure at all) where the reader is a an assassin, in love with mob!tom. Her last mission was a failure and she came home injuried. Tom was scared to death because she didn't text him or call him (obviously). She was trying to help Tom with his business but she underestimates the other mob. Tom helps her cleaning the wounds, they argued at first but I'm a puddle for happy endings. Thank you for your time, have a nice day 🥰🥰🥰

her blood-stained bodysuit

❧ prompt: all you wanted was to help your mobster boyfriend. you never expected your plan to go all wrong and result in failure. when you return home with blood soaking your suit and drying in your hair, how does Tom react?

❧ pairing: mob!tom x assassin!reader

❧ genre: angst, fluff, action (?)

❧ warnings: mentions of blood, mild gore, fighting, mentions of guns, mentions of hickey, language

❧ a/n: though i should’ve worked on my script for my final, i worked on this instead. i’m not procrastinating, i have everything planned out lmao nah. this fic wasn’t supposed to be as “gore-y” as it came out as, but, like, it’s whatever. hope you enjoyed this fic because i worked on it for like three days lmao. alright bye xx

part 2!

masterlist                     prompt list

Walking into the run-down building, you gripped your gun tightly, eyes open for any sudden attacks. Your ears strained as they listened for any sounds. 

You were suited in an all-black bodysuit, handgun holster around your waist. Your hair had been tightly tied into a bun, no loose hair out to get in your face. A mask had covered half of your face, hiding your identity. 

You barely knew the place you were heading into, but you knew it enough to assassinate your target and escape. You had planned the entire event out. First, you’d rid the place of any cameras and enemy attackers. Then, you’d set a distraction opposite to where you were heading. Finally, once you reached your destination, you’d quickly shoot your target, leaving them a milli-second to breathe before falling cold to the ground. Your escape was easy. You’d climb out of the window and fall right into your vehicle, allowing yourself a fast escape.

As you stepped into the dark, musty building, you saw the first cameras you needed to shoot out. What didn’t occur to you was the loud echo traveling through the entire building: your first mistake.

You continued on, hiding when you saw the first sign of your enemy’s men but continuing once they passed. Unexpectedly, when you began to carry yourself further, you felt a presence watching you. The butt of your gun swung back, hitting someone in the side. They let out a loud groan, alerting everybody nearby. You quickly shot the man dead, rushing to the nearest exit. Unfortunately for you, there was no path for you to escape. There were men in every exit you planned to use when in case of an emergency.

It was like they already knew you were coming.

Deciding to take your chances, you ran, shooting and dodging bullets being shot your way. Luckily, you were a trained assassin with much experience. You found yourself at an exit when someone was able to land a shot in your thigh. Groaning in pain, you perspired on, not letting them take you in. Throwing the broken-down doors shut, you limped your way to the doors out of the building. Thinking you had escaped all the men, you let your guard down for a second to tend to your wounded leg. 

In the midst of your pain, you didn’t notice the man coming up from behind you. He threw a harsh hit to your head, knocking you off balance. With your already injured leg, you fell over easily, head hitting the rugged ground beneath you. You felt a sharp pain spike the side of your head before feeling a warm liquid run down the side of your face. 

Reaching a hand up to feel the warm liquid, you saw red and fired your gun at the grinning man above you. You shot him dead, bullets continuously lodging into his chest. His shirt soaked with his blood.

“Asshole,” you muttered before getting back on your way. 

When you finally reached your car, you took off as fast as you could, knowing that if you didn’t get going, they would be trailing you all the way back.

-

Tom was in his office, reading over some papers when the door abruptly opened. He snapped his head up in anger, knowing that his men knew not to barge in without knocking or they’d face the consequences.

“You better have a good reason as to why-” when he saw Harrison panting and wide-eyed, he paused, worry taking over his thoughts. “What happened?”

“Y/N’s missing,” the blonde said, breathlessly.

“What do you mean missing?” Tom asked, attention fully on Harrison.

“She isn’t in her room or the gym. I’ve tried calling her multiple times, but it keeps going to voicemail,” Haz explained.

“Fuck,” Tom whispered, rushing out of his office to find you.

-

You threw the car door shut, feeling hazy at the loss of blood. Holding your head in pain, you limped before the doors of your home before falling over, vision going black.

-

“Tom, the system says someone’s entered the code into the gate,” Haz said as he saw the notification pop up on the security system.

“That has to be her,” Tom said before running to the home’s main doors.

Pulling open the large door, he was revealed to your limp body laying on the cold floor, with dried blood covering you and fresh blood tangled in your hair. For a moment, Tom assumed the worst and thought you were dead, when he brought himself back to logicality. He placed two fingers to your neck, successfully locating your weak pulse. He let out a happy sigh but remembered that you were still bleeding heavily and needed to be treated right away.

He lifted you up in his arms, carrying you into your shared room. He passed a concerned-looking Harrison, telling him to get the medical supplies.

-

You woke to the feeling of a wet cloth wiping down your cheek. Flinching away from the contact, your eyes weakly shot open to see your brunette boyfriend.

“Tom,” your voice came out weak and hoarse.

“Shh, darling, you need to rest,” he silenced you as he wiped you clean from your blood.

Tom wasn’t mad at you, only a bit frustrated. He wondered why you put yourself at such risk. He knew you to make logical, smart decisions, but here you were, lying in bed severely drained of your blood. He sighed aloud at your recklessness.

His weight lifting off the bed, he stood to put away the bloody towelette, shaking his head as he was consumed by his own thoughts. You watched his back, and you could practically see the disappointment radiating off of him.

“I know I fucked up alright?” You croaked, sighing in shame.

“It’s just so unlike you to be so, so-” a hand reached up to massage his temples, “Just be more careful next time.”

“No,” you bit back, hearing the irritation in his voice, “please, finish your sentence.”

“It doesn’t matter what I was going to say becau-” 

You cut him off, “It does matter. What were you going to say about me?” You suddenly felt a surge of energy run through your veins.

“Why are you trying to pick a fight with me right now? You need to rest,” he tried to tuck you under the covers, only to be pushed away by a weak hand.

“I’m not trying to pick a fight with you. I just want to know what you thought about me,” you snapped.

“Fine, if you want to know so much, I was going to say reckless. It’s so unlike you to be so reckless. There, I said it,” he fired back, annoyed by your consistent nagging. 

You scoffed in disbelief, “I was not being reckless. I had a plan, a well-thought out plan at that, but they somehow intercepted it. I can’t predict things like that happening. At least I had a backup plan or I wouldn’t be here right now.”

You shifted in bed, trying to sit upright, flinching when your head spun at the sudden movement. You grabbed the aching side, trying to subdue the pain.

“Lay down. You’re only going to hurt yourself more, if you sit up,” the accented voice said demandingly. 

You sneered at the demand but listened, regardless. 

“I know what I’m doing, you know? I’m a well-trained assassin, not to mention one of the best ones yet,” you said in a hushed tone.

“I know that. That’s why I’m confused about how you came back so heavily injured. I expected you to know better,” he huffed, turning the light of the room off.

The last comment had hit you harder than you expected. You knew he had high expectations of you, but you never thought he would put you down for messing up once.

Glancing at his silhouette, you never felt as much dislike for a person than you did Tom, at that moment. You liked being critiqued but not insulted. Your line of work was very important, and your pride was big.

He slid into his space beside you, laying flat on his back, arms crossed over the covers. You remained laying on your side beside him, not sparing him a glance.

A wet streak slid down the side of your nose, another following over the bridge of your nose. Reaching a hand up to wipe the liquid away, you realized it was your tears. You tried to quietly sniffle away your tears, but Tom heard them clearly in the radio silent room. 

You weren’t supposed to be weak. You weren’t supposed to shed tears late at night. You were an assassin for fuck’s sake. 

“You know, I was doing it for you,” you whispered. “I was trying to get rid of that stupid asshole that’s been targetting you this entire time,” your tears began to come down harder.

“Darling, why would you do that? As much as I appreciate it, I’d prefer it more if you came home safely and not bleeding out,” he spoke, turning to wrap an arm around your waist.

“I just wanted to help,” you sniffled, cuddling into his warmth.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I was just worried about you,” he murmured as he planted wet kisses on your bare shoulder.

“I know, but it still hurt,” you replied, lifting a hand up to wipe away your excess tears.

“I’m sorry, princess. Can you forgive me?” His lips attacked the supple skin of your neck, gently sucking and leaving a purple mark behind.

You hummed, a hand snaking behind you to push him away, “Yes, I forgive you. Now, leave me alone. I’m tired.”

“Alright, love. Let’s sleep,” he smiled into your neck, arms encasing you in a warm hug, and before you knew it, you fell into a deep sleep.

the right decision pt. 2

❧ prompt: you and tom grew up together but always as enemies — nothing more, nothing less. as you grow older, you must realize it’s time to be mature. you either must throw tom out of your life or take him in as an ally. which will you choose?

❧ pairing: prince!tom holland x princess!reader x prince!park jimin

❧ genre: angst, barely any fluff, e2l

❧ warnings: light swearing, slight verbal abuse (nothing too heavy, only degradation), heartbreak ?

❧ a/n: lmao there are so many hidden symbols in this fic except some are revealed so i’ll explain the color symbols in this fic: orange is the change of attraction, pink is romance, and purple is the two characters coming to peace with each other. also this is a bit longer than what i usually write so ;P hopefully the second part makes up for the shitty first chapter lmao. shit, i was originally not going to write a third part but umm... shit. ok see you in the third chapter lmao smh

← chap. 1     chap. 3 →

masterlist                     prompt list

In your white organza, you let your fingertips graze over the delicate petals of the gorgeously growing gardenias. Your dress flows with your movement as you step forward, observing the chrysanthemums. Looking as perfect as usual, you moved ahead to observe your candytufts. All flowers were white, like your dress. 

Truthfully, how you obtained these enchanting flowers still puzzles you. They just suddenly appeared one day when you were considering doing something with the empty space the flowers had suddenly occupied in the garden. However, you don’t care. The flowers are perfect.

Life has become quiescent ever since Tom has left you alone, almost to the point you regret pushing him away. Of course, there was a reason to why you acted the way you did. It was time for you to mature, and Tom wasn’t helping that growth whatsoever. Although the more you think about it, the more you realize that you could’ve taken him in as an ally. You couldn’t avoid him forever, and neither could he. Eventually the two of you would grow to rule your kingdoms as king and queen.

Shaking off the growing feelings of regret, you twirl back to the kingdom, hair whipping around with you. Taking one last breath of the fresh air surrounding you, you drag your heavy body back into the same, old, stodgy castle you’ve been living in for years. 

To your surprise, a handmaiden is waiting for you, instructing you to follow her on behalf of the king, your father. Leading you to the doors of the dining hall, she adjusts and cleans off your dress, combing your hair until it neatly falls onto your shoulders.

“She’s ready,” you hear the handmaiden whisper to the tall standing butler before quickly rushing off.

“Madam,” he says sticking his arm out as the door opens, “Her royal highness, Princess Y/N L/N.”

Awkwardly curtsying in your dress, you look up to see unfamiliar faces sat across your parents’. The first face to draw in your attention is a man that looks young — a bit older than you but almost your age. Suddenly standing, the man bowed, no words spoken. You smile awkwardly before moving to take the seat beside your mother and across from the man. 

“Ah,” the woman sitting across from your mother spoke, “how nice it is to finally meet you.”

You smiled warmly, though forcibly. Your hands rest in your lap, each finger toying with the other. You look down at your manicured hands, taking a moment to put together the pieces, but nothing came to mind. Looking up in frustration, your eyes meet the man across from you. He looks angelic.

His silver hair and pale skin made him look soft. Not only that but his eyes are enchanting. They are a beautiful crystal blue color, reeling you in like you are under a spell. He has plump, pink lips, glistening every time he licks them. 

You hear someone clear their throat, “May I introduce King Park and Queen Park of South Korea and their son, Prince Park Jimin.”

 Looking around expectedly, waiting for your father or mother to speak up, you are only met with eyes staring at you.

“O-Oh,” you cough gingerly, “It’s a honor to meet you, King Park and Queen Park.” Looking over at the silver-haired boy, you shyly smile, “A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Prince Park.”

He smiles, and you feel your heart clench at the sight, “And I, you, Princess L/N.”

He stands as you do, bowing to you before stretching a hand out for yours. Hesitantly, you place your hand gently in his and watch as he lightly kisses the back of your hand. Sitting back down, you feel heat rising to your cheeks as your thumb strokes the tingling sensation on the back of your hand. 

“Great,” your father quips, “Now that we’ve familiarized ourselves, let’s talk about the marriage.”

At the word, your head snaps up to look at your father. Your gaze seems to be searching for something, a sign that tells you that your ears are deceiving you. Sadly, nothing suggests that your ears are wrong. 

For the rest of the discussion, you’re not in your body, soul floating about and out of the kingdom. What pulls you back to reality is the sensation of the chair attempting to be pulled out from underneath you.

Abruptly, you stand up, curtseying the Park Royalty goodbye.

“See you soon, princess,” Jimin says, exchanging the title for a cheeky nickname, before kissing the back of your hand once more but letting his lips linger longer. 

You blush away from his touch and give him a shy smile as you watch his slim figure slip out of the large doors.

Once the family is no longer in your sight, you burst at your parents, “Marriage? Seriously?” 

You are infuriated. You never expected to be married off to some stranger, nonetheless at such a young age. You had just turned 21, for fucks sake. Moreover, they didn’t even consider discussing the situation beforehand.

“Look, darling,” your mother places a delicate hand on your cheek, “We’re growing old and soon we won’t be able to protect this kingdom. We need to pass it on to someone more reliable and trustworthy.”

“Yeah, then pass it on to me. Just me,” you clarify.

“As much as I’d love to do that, you know it’s not possible. You’re not possibly strong enough on your own,” she gives you sympathetic eyes.

“I’m- Excuse me? Not only are you stripping away my freedom of choosing my own significant other, but you’re now degrading me?” You snap, seeing red. 

“You know that’s not what I mean-” your father cuts your mother off.

“Enough! We gave you a chance already,” he huffs, anger rising as well.

“What chance? Vincent? If I had known that-”

“Vincent? That silly boy? No, that was show enough that you can’t choose the right people to help rule this kingdom, but albeit that wasn’t your chance. There’s someone else that’s been beside you all your life. It’s been planned for ages, and you just had to go off and ruin it,” your father roars.

“Who else is there? My handmaidens?” You laugh sarcastically, tears filling your eyes.

“Think, you foolish child! If you can’t even figure out who it is, you definitely won’t be able to rule a kingdom alone,” you shake angrily at your father’s debasing words.

Thinking as hard as you can through your sorrowful rage, a face pops into your head.

Tom.

“Has it finally clicked yet?” Your father’s voice breaks your trance.

“Tom,” you whisper, weakly.

Without any other words, he nods, escorting your mother and himself out of the room, leaving you to think to yourself. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” a handmaiden spoke up, “would you like us to prepare anything? Like a bath or supper?”

Shaking your head, you dismissed her, thoughts racing in your head.

It suddenly got all too stuffy to be staying in the kingdom. You had to get out. You had to breathe in the fresh air of the wet grass, old, growing trees, and your precious flower garden.

Moving as fast as your heel-clad feet could take you, you rush out and towards your white flowers when you notice a silhouette standing above them, watering them.

His brunette locks shine in the golden light of the setting sun. As you move closer, you can see his well-constructed body through his garments. What he wore wasn’t anything special, just a white button down and grey trousers. 

“Did you know?” You ask, voice wavering.

“Of course I knew,” he replies, quietly, voice soft to soothe you.

“Why didn’t you-” you felt yourself choke on your words, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to force you into falling for me,” he simply shrugs, hands playing with your flowers. “Although, seeing where we are now, I can’t say that what I did has encouraged us towards marriage.”

Standing in silence together, the pair of your stare at the flowers, the white of the petals turning orange, then pink, and then purple, following the shifting colors of the sky. 

“I’ve missed you,” you suddenly blurt out.

Tom turns his head to face you, “I’ve missed you as well, darling.”

Tears erupt from your eyes, and you fall into Tom’s chest, arms wrapping around his torso.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, “I didn’t mean what I said at the ball. I don’t know what got into me.”

You felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“It’s alright, darling,” he sighs, hand rubbing the arch of your back.

“It’s not. What I said was wrong. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry,” you shake your head, hair sticking onto your wet skin.

“I forgive you, darling. Please stop crying,” he says sweetly before pulling back to wipe away your tears.

You look at him with glistening, doe eyes. Your hair is a wild mess, and the minimal makeup you wore had smudged off, revealing your natural beauty.

“Do you want to know something about your flowers?” Tom asks, trying to change the subject and cheer you up.

Nodding, you give him a silent answer.

“These,” he points at your chrysanthemums, “mean truth,” next, the candytufts, “indifference, and finally, my favorite,” the gardenias, “secret love.” He looks over to see your sparkling eyes of fascination, “Ever wonder how you got these?”

“Yes, I wonder every time I see them. Do you know who or how?” You ask, completely oblivious to the fact that he knows you didn’t personally request for the flowers to be planted.

He chuckles, “It was I, darling.”

You turn to face him in shock, “You?”

“Let me explain,” he smiles, “I first sent these to you when I realized my feelings for you. The gardenias represented my hidden love for you, the white chrysanthemums represented that I was going to tell you soon, and the candytufts represented you and your indifference for my feelings. You were perfect. You are perfect,” he corrects himself, “Then, when you started Vincent, I became jealous, and I was mad that you chose the man that you had barely known over me. I was beside you all of your life, yet you chose him,” Tom’s face contorts in jealousy. “I became bitter, and whenever I saw you, I saw him. He was always beside you. I treated you more harshly because of him, but when I heard news of your breakup, I immediately regretted the way I treated you. I should’ve protected you, rather than ignoring you.”

With eyes of awe, you whisper to yourself, “Tom likes me?”

“I’d say ‘love,’ but if you’re more comfortable with ‘like’ then I happy that you’re happy,” he chuckles.

You warm smile drops, “I’m sorry I treated you with such dislike. If I’d known, I would’ve respected you.”

The smug look on his face drops as well, “Does this mean you don’t feel the same way about me?”

“Well, to be honest, Tom, up until a couple weeks ago, I thought we had a mutual hate, but I do think that I have potential feelings for you that are slowly but surely arising. Although, even if we wanted to be together, it would be impossible,” you look down at your hands, tears developing in your quivering eyes at the mention of the arranged marriage.

He smiles lamentably, “I know.”

The two of you stand in silence, heads hanging in despair. None of you have anything else to say, only there to enjoy being in each others presence. You only move when you hear sniffles that don’t belong to you.

“Tom?” You say his name, hopelessly. Not receiving a response from him, you look up to see his shaking figure. “Oh, Tommy,” you coo, taking him into your arms. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you rub his back, face snuggled in the crook of his neck.

You let Tom sob in your arms until he ran out of tears to cry. When he finally collects himself and is in the right state of mind, again, he places a gentle kiss to your cheek before running off and leaving you to yourself in your dark garden.

You look up at the sky. The sun is already long gone, and the stars have come out to play with the moon. A tear falls down your cheek, left with confused feelings and a broken heart.

Jimin sits on the marble seat of his balcony, staring up at the dark sky, wondering what you were up to at the moment. He was infatuated with you at first glance; your beauty lures and traps him. 

Jimin smiles at the twinkling stars, a sense of thrill flowing through him.

There were three stars that shone especially brightly that night. One of said stars twinkled its last day, falling unannounced, leaving the one star sad and confused and the other excited and ready.

let them flow

❧ synopsis: after the collapsing of an unhealthy relationship, each side begins to improve and thrive, one for the other, one for themselves. coincidentally, they meet at the same dreaded party that led to the breaking of their relationship. will this unfortunate series of events lead them to opportunity?

❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader

❧ genre: fluff

❧ warnings: mild angst, fluffy-ish ending, exes to friends to lovers, one or two curse words, lil bit of crying, mentions of alcohol

❧ a/n: it’s finally over. thank goodness. this also is so long it can be considered a second part fuck. i know i took a whole month to write this, but i barely have free time to write nowadays and the times i do, i don’t have much inspiration. anyways this came out better than i expected so hope you guys enjoy.

in order to understand this ending, please read this first: her hidden crystal tears 

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In the first month you spent broken up with Tom, you, for once, felt at peace, with no burden of hiding relationships and denying feelings. You had forgotten how free living singly was. Within that month, you were able to reshape your life. Your grades began to improve, and your mental health had phenomenally developed for he better. Your friends had even gone out of their ways to help you with a "glow up."

Tom, on the other hand, had tried to shape him into a better person in hopes of salvaging your crumbling, if you could even call it that, relationship. He worked harder in class, and every time he saw you sitting in the lecture hall, you were surrounded by other classmates, giving him no place to fit in. He also started to distance himself from his old group of friends, looking for a better, influential group.

Tom couldn't help but feel a tug at his heart when he saw you walking with one other friend to class, laughing at something they said. He saw how your under eye-bags turned bright and how you shoulders straightened up after the breakup. It broke his heart to know the negative impact he had on you, which you never complained or spoke out about.

The brunette wanted to improve for you and himself.

How you ended up in a pair of high-waisted, black, denim shorts and a black bandeau with a sheer, cropped, long-sleeved shirt overtop you didn't know. After much begging and bothering, your friend had convinced you to go to the afterparty of the football game. You tried your best to deny their attempts but failed when they baited you with money.

This would be your first time attending a party, for you were always driven home and away from them. You couldn't deny, though, the chills that snaked down your spine at the mention of it.

Stepping into the house, you noticed how similar it looked to a fraternity. People were dancing, pushing their bodies against others and grinding their hips onto drunk partners. Other students were playing beer pong, stripping on tables, or resting on couches with a red, plastic cup in their hands. It smelled terribly of sweat and oversaturated body spray, making you gag on your breath.

"How do so many people like this?" You shouted over the pounding music and loud voices.

"How do you not?" You friend giggled, dragging you through the crowd.

Dodging and pushing people off of you, you gripped your friend's hand tightly, afraid of losing them.

"Where are we going?" You asked, eyes darting all over the place in uncertainty.

"Before we party, we've got to get drinks," they pushed the door of the kitchen open, revealing the alcohol infested space.

Scrambling over to the bulky cooler, they grabbed a can of beer, popping it open and downing it.

Flinching in disgust, you commented, "Don't you want to wash that, first?"

"What d'you mean? It looks perfectly clean to me," they shrugged, throwing you a can.

You clumsily captured the condensated drink, before putting it on the counter behind you, "I don't drink."

They groaned, "Why are you such a doormat? Come on," they nudged your shoulder, "Live a little."

You laughed, "I can "live a little" just fine with water."

"Ugh, fine. I'm guessing you also want to sit in a corner and become a hermit," they spoke, sarcastically.

"Actually," your eyes lit up, "I do."

"You," they pointed at you unsteadily, "annoy me, but since I already brought you along," their finger moved to point at an idle seat in the corner of a calmer room, "There."

You nodded, eyeing the isolated spot with glee. However, before your friend could escape into the crowd, you told them to stay safe and slipped away to occupy said seat. 

Although Tom no longer associated himself with his old group of friends, he couldn’t avoid them forever, as they were his teammates. Also, as the captain of the football team, it was practically an obligation for him to attend the after parties. 

Honestly, ever since you had broken up with Tom, he had developed a small fear of being whisked away by his fangirls and teammates, constantly thinking you were waiting in his car for him. His guilt had piled on top of his conscious, leaving him an insecure wreck.

Nevertheless, he stepped into the filled building, nodding and waving at familiar faces. One face he wasn’t expecting to see sat in the corner of the room was yours. 

He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, he murmured to himself, “She’s not there, you idiot.”

“Tom, buddy,” a familiar voice hollered.

Through your peripheral vision, you swore that you saw his chocolate curls, but when you looked up from your phone, he had disappeared. Your eyes began to dart through the crowd of people, looking for the man you supposedly had gotten over.

Quickly realizing your mistake, you shunned yourself for willingly wrapping yourself around his little finger. You returned to scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself with the illuminated screen.

Tom watched as his teammate, and former friend, grabbed at a girl swaying her hips, pushing her ass against his friend’s crotch, into a grind. Suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable where he stood, he moved into the kitchen to grab a drink.

The room let in muffled sounds but ultimately was the quietest room in the building. The white LED lights left the room bright and easy to navigate, albeit the clusters of finished drinks and used cups littered on the counters and in the sink and overflowing out of the trashcan. 

The brunette drifted over to the fridge, locating the fresh water bottles hidden from other partygoers. 

Feeling quenched, you stood up from your seat, unwillingly. You looked for a quick and precise path to the kitchen, though you failed to do so. Deciding to extemporize it, you awkwardly squished your way through the crowd, mumbling “excuse me” and “sorry” periodically. 

Pushing the white-paint clad, wooden door open, you stumbled your way into the room, glaring at the sudden brightness engulfing your vision. 

Hearing the music and sound of people cheering grow louder, Tom turned around to see the oh-so familiar girl he had fallen infatuated with many months ago.

You stood, blinking your eyes as they tried to adapt to the sudden change of lighting. Groaning, your hands began massaging and harassing the poor skin of your eyelids. 

Your unnoticed ex, still stood in front of the fridge with a cool bottle of water in his hand, smiled at your adorable behaviour — widely contrasting your provocative outfit — watching as your cheeks puffed out in frustration. 

Feeling the haze leave your eyes, you looked ahead of you to see a silhouette emerging. Embarrassed, you blushed, looking down at your shoes. 

You felt a cool presence resting beside your cheek, and quickly looked at the item.

Water? You thought, confused.

Eyes trailing up the arm holding the bottle, your met with the sight of your former boyfriend smiling at you.

“Tom,” you breathed.

After avoiding and ignoring the boy for so many weeks, you already had forgotten how sweet he looked with a smile and soft blush grazing his cheeks. Maybe you hadn’t forgotten; you were just rarely, if ever, given the opportunity to admire it.

“Hey,” he responded, shyly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. 

You glanced at the bottle then back to Tom, silently asking what he was doing with it.

“O-Oh, I just thought you’d want a bottle of water, since you don’t drink, but if you do now, that’s totally cool too,” he rambled nervously, like a little boy talking to his crush on the playground. 

Although you had only broken up with him a bit over a month ago, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust taking the drink from him.

“Thanks, but I can get one myself. I’m sure you wanted to drink that too.” 

You gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile before walking past him to the fridge. Reaching into the cool container, you pulled out a frosted water bottle. 

The situation was strange. Everything felt so familiar but so different. It didn’t feel right to talk to each other like you knew how they slept in bed at night or how they loved warm cuddles on the couch as they binged shows and movies. 

“Look, Y/N,” Tom spoke up, breaking the tension with a breath, “I know that I was a jerk we were together. I also know that I neglected you. I shouldn’t have cared about what everyone else thought about our relationship. 

“Looking back, I understand why you were so frustrated with me, and you had every right to break up with me. I was a wuss that used protecting you as an excuse to keep you under covers. I reveled in the popularity and attention I got, back then.

“I’m different, now, though. I’m not saying you have to take me back. You don’t even have to consider it. All I want to do, right here, right now, is to apologize to you, so, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the anguish and sadness I caused. I’m sorry you had to waste your tears on me. I’m so fucking sorry, and if I have the slightest chance to even be your friend again, please let me take it.”

You felt a churning in your core, and tears prickled the corner of your eyes. You didn’t understand where your emotions arose from. You thought that you had moved on from Tom. You thought you had left him behind, left him in the shadows of your life. 

You turned around, hand reaching up to quickly wipe your tears away. That is, until a calloused hand grabbed your wrist.

“Don’t,” the accented voice choked, “It hurts me as much as it does you.”

Your words were caught in your throat. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing but sobs slipped your lips. 

Everything became a blur. You could only feel warmth enveloping you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling,” Tom murmured into your hair. 

After the encounter at the party, you and Tom went on with your life as normal. 

Although, nothing that happened that night could be considered normal. You cried while he held you tightly in his arms. He apologized for his faults and asked for a second chance, as a friend or more. You forgave him and gave him the chance. 

Will you ever want to have the same relationship you had with Tom as before? No.

You and Tom are working on building a better, healthier relationship for the both of you: an open and honest relationship that won’t be hidden from anyone, especially not his “fangirls.” 

“Don’t ever hide your tears again,” Tom whispered into your hair, “Let them flow.” His pointer finger gently lifts your chin, locking his eyes with your tear-filled ones. He brings his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the shining streaks of pain, sadness, desperation. 

“Let them flow because I’ll be here. I’ll be here to wipe them away every and any time.”

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