Can you write #29 with Tom đ„ș
prompts: (29) âhoney, iâm home!â
âł established relationship, my #1 fantasy in writing, tessa steals the show as usual
word count: 829
note: girl i havenât written anything in over a month and iâm stressed abt this, lmk what you think đ„ș
flufftober drabbles (requests are closed!)
From the first day you and Tom spent in this new home, youâd commented on the annoyingly squeaky front door. It shrieks like a cat under attack at the slightest movement and is the subject of many banters between you two. Not unlike a married couple from a 90s sitcom, both of you refused to be the one to fix it, with Tom contending you should do it as you work from home while he travels, and you arguing heâd promised to do it himself first as heâs already got a background in carpentry. Thankfully, the hectic nature of your lives in the past few months have put this tiff on the backburner.
Now, though, a tiny part of you find yourself glad the door still squeals whenever itâs moved. Thereâs something about the flash of excitement you get when you hear it, the little frog in your chest that jumps at the realisation that Tomâs home. From your laid down position on the couch, a comforting romance book balanced over your head, your ears pick up on it immediately.
Except tonight, itâs a murmur. Hell, if your ears werenât practically pointed up like an excited dogâs you probably wouldnât have heard it. The three words come out faint and tired, drooping from the weight on Tomâs shoulders.
Except tonight, itâs a murmur. Hell, if your ears werenât practically pointed up like an excited dogâs you probably wouldnât have heard it. The three words come out faint and tired, drooping from the weight on Tomâs shoulders.
Concerned, you slip a library receipt between the pages of your book and get up, making sure you donât wake Tessa whoâs still sleeping by your feet. With a blanket still wrapped around your figure like a makeshift poncho, you quickly shuffle towards the front door. Tom has just crossed the entrance hallway into the living room, where he nearly bumps into your cocooned figure.
âHey, darlââ
âWhatâs wrong?â You cut him off, eyes wide like those of a Disney character.
Perplexed, Tom freezes for a moment before his wonky eyebrow curls to meet the other. âWhy, what happened?â He asks, a concerned expression making his thin lips furrow into a tiny little line. You yearn to reach up and kiss it away, but thatâs for another time, when your stomach hasnât dropped to your feet.
âYou tell me.â You reply, shrugging off the blanket and wrapping it around your boyfriendâs broad shoulders. âYou didnât say it. Not like you usually do.â
Upon reflex, he burrows into the quilt, sighing as your hands rub up and down his arms. âLove, itâs been a long day, the flight back home was torture. and I have no clue what youâre saying.â
Your mouth twists into a pout and you coo, stepping forward to properly hug your boy. âOh, honey, Iâm sorry you had a tough day.â His arms slither around your waist, a cold hand slipping beneath your shirt to press itself flat against your spine. âDo you want to sit down? Or I can fix you a showerâbut youâre probably starving, thereâs leftovers in the oven. Iâll warm it up, unless you want to order something freshâI saw this new shawarma place onââ
The coldness of his palms cupping your cheeks cuts you off, and you blink as you find Tomâs eyes, the corners crinkling tiredly in an endeared smile. âBaby, breathe.â He inhales deeply with you, knowing how easily overwhelmed you get, and you release your breaths together, shoulders relaxing. âI already ate, Iâm too tired to shower, and the only thing I need right now,â he whispers, leaning forward to kiss the tip of your nose, âis my girl.â
Heat blooms in your stomach like a spring garden, and you wrap your arms around him once more, squeezing his torso tightly. With just as much strength, Tom hugs you back, his chin resting on your crown.
âSmooth talker,â you murmur into his overcoat, âyou know how much that term affects me. Sânot fair.â
His chest vibrates with laughter against your cheek and he gives you a good squeeze just for the sake of it. âHow about I make it up to you by volunteering to take your pants off for you and then we see where that goes?â
The sound of his laughter as you step away from him unimpressed wakes Tessa up, and soon enough her short legs flop onto the floor with overexcitement. Colour flushes back into Tomâs skin, and he crouches down to accept the dogâs greeting, one of his hands scratching her ear and the other smoothing down her fur.
âHi, honey, Iâm home.â He coos, grinning as she licks his neck and chin, and youâre pretty if he had a tail, his would be wagging too. âYes, princess, daddyâs home.â
Deadpan, you glare down at him with your arms crossed. âBitchâŠâ