Tom Holland One-Shots

Hold On | [A]

a/n: hello, surprise? but yes, so, i was kind of in a funk for a bit and when that happens, i write angst. then i heard the song (i was listening to my sad playlist as u do aha) and here we are. i wrote this fairly quick so bear with it as it may seemed rushed (it is) so it may be bad heh.

summary: Tom always tries his best to offer help when things get overwhelming but seeing him always stressed and worried over something out of his control, you only feel guiltier for putting him through it. You tried to take matters into your own hands and rid of his burden only for Tom to find you not long after.

based on song: Hold On - Chord Overstreet

warnings: suicide attempt (vaguely written & only on tom's pov), pure angst, brief panic attack, open ending(?)

word count: 3.2k+

HELPLINES & SUICIDE HOTLINES IN DIFFERENT COUNTRIES:
https://cwanky.tumblr.com/post/163379039508/us-helplines-depression-hotline-1-630-482-9696

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"I can't do better in helping if you don't tell me what's wrong Y/N," Tom said softly, concerned eyes staring right into your troubled ones.

He had his arms open wide as he slowly inched towards your trembling form, making sure to not get too close, too fast. He doesn't want to overwhelm you by being all over your personal space, he doesn't want to stress you out even more by crowding you. Tom knew he needed to be gentle, patient, giving you enough space to breath but also showing that you can jump into his arms whenever you need to, whenever you're ready to.

"That's the thing Tom, I don't know what's wrong," you started with a shaky intake of breath. "I just feel this pit in my stomach and sometimes it gets so overwhelming in my head about everything, about what I'm even doing with my life, if I'm doing enough, if I am enough. I'm overthinking about everything and I just feel so lost and angry for not knowing what's wrong with me. And I—I am so tired," you admitted, tears slipping down your cheeks as you ran your palm over your face in frustration.

To see your agitated state, to hear the hurt and frustration in your voice, added with your heavy words, it just broke Tom's heart to pieces. You didn't need to elaborate what you meant by 'being tired' because he understood, both physically, emotionally, but especially mentally. And Tom's frown could only deepen as you continued.

"And you can't do better Tom, you don't need to. You've already done so much for me. You've put up with my shit for so long. I've already put you through so much," you trailed off at the end of your sentence, bottom lip quivering as you stared at him with utter guilt.

The look of distress on his features was hurting you so much. You just want to see him happy, that's what he truly deserves. But now it seems like you're not giving him that anymore. Not giving him enough happiness, just nights of him being worried about you, stressed because of you.

"I feel like lately, all I've done is be a burden to my family, to everyone in my life, but even more to you."

Tom shook his head frantically as he took a few steps forward. "No, don't say that love," he whispered.

Once he reached a safe distance, he gently took your hand in his, touch soft, comforting. You let him hold you, eyes trained on the way your fingers intertwined but never looking up. You couldn't bear to hold his gaze, especially with the obvious sadness that swam in them.

"Darling, look at me," Tom coaxed, giving your hands a tender squeeze. With a deep intake of breath, you willed yourself to meet his eyes again. Those brown orbs bring you so much happiness, and to see them filled with everything but, to know that you're the sole reason why they're not coated with that lovely glow, it only makes you feel guiltier.