tom holland one shots

yes and no

“tommy? is that you?” you turn down the volume on the tv and sit up as you hear the garage door shut and keys slam on the counter. you almost jump at how loud it is, starting to take smaller steps into the kitchen. it’s like walking on egg shells not knowing what’s got him so angry, and it’s even scarier trying to talk to him about it.

he may be an angel, but when something pisses him off, he’s a scary dude.

you see his dark figure maneuver around the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of beer from the fridge and chugging it down quickly. “hey, hey, hey,” you whisper and flick on the lights, placing your hands above his shoulder and spinning into him a little.

he looks you up and down, a mouthful of beer still waiting to be swallowed in his mouth, no expression at all. he gulps as you slide your hand up his neck and cup his cheek. “you okay?” you say as he gulps and brushes you off of him. at first, you’re shocked. even when he’s mad, he never tries to get past you. he’s never this silently angry, never so annoyed that he doesn’t speak back to you.

“yeah, yeah. i’m fine.” he grunts and takes another swig of is beer.

“how’d the audition go?” you sit into your hip and fold your arms, watching him walk around you and out of the kitchen, the bottle of beer still in his hand.

he doesn’t answer.

you scoff and follow him out, catching up to his quick paces before he plops himself down on the couch, his legs lazily bent up to his chest and his arms slung over his knees.

“tom.” you say strictly and walk in front of him. but he still doesn’t even look at you. you can see the rage in his eyes, the annoyance in his jaw and you just know something went wrong. “what happened, baby boy?” you kneel in front of him and touch his cheek, calling him the name that always gets him all soft and fluffy. but he doesn’t change at all. he doesn’t smile, he doesn’t flinch, he doesn’t even turn his gaze to you.

“nothing happened.” he whispers under his breath and clenches his jaw again.

you both sigh, two very different sighs. yours because you’re frustrated and worried that you won’t be able to get to him and help him. his because he’s hurting but he doesn’t wanna open up to you, even though he knows he should.

“you know you can talk to me.” you brush your fingers through the shorter parts of his hair on the side of his head. “that’s what girlfriends are for.” he looks at you, but only for a second.

then he’s back to being all cold and distant. like how stupid men do.

“c’mon,” you take a deep breath and exhale it when your voice cracks a little as you take the beer from his hands and place it on the coffee table. “i’ll make you some tea,” you sing and massage behind his ear like he’s a little puppy, climbing onto the couch and sitting on your knees beside him. “and we can bring the nice blankets out here and cuddle,” you almost catch a smile on his lips but it stops when you add on, “and talk, maybe?”

“i don’t want to talk about it.” he frowns and pouts like he hasn’t gotten his way.

“please!” you beg softly and tug on his shirt. “you seem upset and i don’t wanna go to bed when i know you’re grumpy.” your thumb brushes over his bottom, pouty lip, making him glance at you for longer than before. “i don’t like grumpy tommy.” you shake your head and smile at him.

“talk to me. please, baby?” you press your lips softly below his cheekbone.

he exhales through his nose, finally getting used to the fact that you won’t leave him alone unless he tells you what’s up. “i didn’t get it.” is all he says. his voice is soft and drained and raspy, coarse and tired and sad.

“i’m sorry.” you’re the one pouting now.

“yeah,” his eyes go wide as he stares straight forward. “and i thought it went great….” you listen. “i thought i was so close to getting it, but the guy stopped me and told me i wasn’t right for the role.”

you gasp a little, knowing how damn good your boyfriend is, ready to mess a bitch up for making his small and sensitive side come out.

“and i didn’t wanna tell you because…” he takes a pause and gulps a little, looking down and clinking his nails together.

“why?” you encourage him to finish the sentence.

“i didn’t wanna tell you because i don’t want you to see me as a failure.” a failure? tom holland, your boyfriend, a failure? ah hell naw.

he takes in the look on your face, immediately regretting saying it because now he knows it’s stupid. “i know it’s true and i know that you’re gonna say something cheesy like ‘you’ll never be a failure to me’ but i just wanted to make you happy. and avoid one of these angsty nights.”

“thomas. you know not everyone’s gonna say yes to you? you’re gonna be rejected sometimes.” he watches the way your face looks when you speak so honestly to him. “no matter what those dick-head casting directors think of you, just know i’ll always say yes to you.”

“that’s the cheesy thing i was talking about.” he chuckles and smiles at you, purely.

“shut up, i was trying to help.” you hit his chest, but laugh along with him.

“and you did.” he smiles though another sigh.

you pull him closer, resting his head on your chest as you float down into the cushions of the couch.

“tommy?” you call while tracing your fingertips up and down his neck and through the messy strands of curls he has.

“mhmm?” he groans.

“i love you, you know.”

“yeah, i know.”

Creds to lilyholland on Tumblr.

Also i need friends so someone please message me please and thank you 💜