(This was based off of a Jensen Ackles imagine I saw on Facebook, credit to the creator of it. I just made it Tom-y :)
There is a stroke of language! )
Imagine your mom living in your [furnished] basement due to her needing assisted living. You and Tom have been dating since forever, but one special Sunday morning, Tom arrives at your door and your mom let's him in, yelling:
"Y/n! Get up~!"
"Five more minutes!" You groan.
"Tom's here!"
You rolled over with a frustrated flail of your arm, making a face at your ceiling. "The joke's getting old, mom!"
Then, Tom's sweet laugh rang through the house, and its muffled sound reached your ears.
"Ah, fuck me." You muttered to yourself. You were actually ecstatic that Tom was here, of course, but getting up wasn't in your lists of interests for the lazy Sunday morning, much less having to quickly find a decent outfit and throw it on, then trying your best to fix your terrifying bedhead in a large mirror that hung in your room. Smeared mascara sat in crumbs underneath your eyes, and you scrubbed it away with your index finger. You smiled at yourself in the mirror, feeling as if you wanted to claw your face off at not being prepared. But, Tom was feeling spontaneous. But, he always was, so, it wasn't anything new.
'His first priority isn't even how you look, anyways. You'll be fine, y/n, you'll be just fantastic.' You thought to yourself before confronting the door and taking a deep breath, exiting to the hallway.
You could already hear your mother's and Tom's hushed voices coming from the kitchen, probably talking over tea. Your mood brightened at being able to see him since he's been away at charity conventions and things of such nature, leaving behind the earlier frustrations at your bedroom door's threshold. You rounded the corner and appeared at the kitchen's wide opening.
Tom's hand snapped something shut with a snap, his eyes instantly jumping to you at your entering. Whatever it was under his palm, it was small, but, due to the great size of his hand, it was cloaked. He smiled quickly and brightly at you. Your mom turned to you much more calmly, a somber smile on her lips. You were already smiling.
"Good morning, love." Tom said with no hesitation, his hand subtly sliding towards his to place the item in his coat pocket.
"Would you like some tea, y/n?" Your mother asked, casual.
"Good morning," you said to the both of them. "Tea would be amazing!"
Your mom placed a hand on the table to prepare to get up, but before she could do much more Tom jumped up and began to fetch your tea. He smiled mischievously back at your mother, who rolled her eyes sarcastically. Your smile transformed into one of pride at Tom as you took a seat next to where Tom sat.
Good natured conversation passed as the morning progressed, the three of you having a grand old time on a simple Sunday morning.
I would like to apologize for my ominous absence of updates. Finals are slaughtering any creative motivation (and any other motivation, for that matter), but I felt in the writing zone today, and I'm hoping to get another chapter done sometime this weekend. Thank you for sticking with me, darlings!
