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lost-pen-name · 20 days

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Tom Ryder x fem!reader

Summary: You were about to leave Tom’s suite when a heavy rainstorm started. Not wanting to risk trying to drive in such poor conditions, you grabbed your stuff from your car, returned back to his door, and asked if you could stay the night. He, begrudgingly, obliged and allowed you to stay in the guest bedroom.

Genre: Fluff, cuddling, comfort

Word count: 2176

Warnings: none

{ you came? you called. }

You were sitting alone in bed, trembling like a leaf, when the power went out in Tom Ryder’s house.

The light flickered for a moment before going out completely, along with the rest of all things electrical. The house was unsettlingly quiet and felt off without the hum of the fridge or air conditioner.

Lightning crackled outside. You pushed yourself a bit out of bed, debating on the idea to go look for Tom, just so you wouldn’t have to be alone. But that would mean leaving the safety of your room.

“Tom?” you called out instead. You looked back at the large window across the bedroom. Even with the curtains drawn, light flashed across the room sporadically.

Farther across the house, you swore you could hear someone moving around. Your heart pounded and you waited, holding your breath, hoping it was Tom coming to check on you. You just needed to know another human existed right now.

There was a THUD and a curse that came after. It sounded like it came from farther down the hall.

A second later you heard an “Oi, what happened?” That familiar voice came from your doorway and you breathed a sigh of relief.

You breathed a sigh of relief and swiped at an unshed tear. You prayed your voice won’t have too much desperation in it. “You came.”

“What? Of course I did. A woman screams my name out in the middle of the freaking night, I’d be crazy not to come.” He sounds agitated and tired but you don’t care, you’re just clinging to the fact that there’s someone here now. “Why’d you call for me? I hope you know I almost died on the way over here. The power’s out, I can’t see a bloody thing.”

Lightning lit up the room and you caught a glance at Tom Ryder standing in the doorway, wearing only a pair of loose fitting sweatpants. A series of thunderclaps shot an arrow of anxiety through the bubble of thought of how gorgeous he looked even at 1am.

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe deeply. “I... I didn’t want to be alone. Not with this storm raging outside.” You gestured towards the window just as thunder booms again.

You heard him sigh. “What am I supposed to do, crawl into bed with you?”

The idea of having someone close to you overpowers all the reason in your brain screaming at you that this wasn’t good for your business relationship. The fear of being alone in this storm trumped all rational thoughts.

“Could you? Even just for a bit?” you said.

There’s a moment of silence before you hear his footsteps and he’s at the side of your bed. You look up at him and gulp. Maybe this was a dumb thing to ask.

“Fine. But give me some blanket.” Without another word, he’s on the bed, crawling into the covers. His bare feet touched yours for a brief moment before you quickly moved your body far away that side of the bed.

He doesn’t seem to notice or care. You watched him as he shifted around, getting the pillow right for him, the blanket pulled a bit over to his side before he relaxed and breathed heavily.

You can feel your heart hitting against your chest painfully and you don’t know if that’s now entirely because of the storm or if it had anything to do with sharing a bed with Tom.

He breaks the silence. “I called Gail, asked her what the whole situation is about the power and all that.” You see him wave his hands around as he talks. “She said it’ll take a few hours, maybe even ‘til morning before we get any power back. So, we’re in it for the long run.”

That was longer than you had hoped but you guessed you should’ve expected it to take that long. “Okay,” is all you can manage to get out through your tight throat.

You both grow quiet again. The awkwardness of this all keeps hitting you so you break the silence. You twisted your head to look at him. “Sorry, I know this is kind of weird.”

“Yeah, well,” he said dryly, “it’s mainly weird because I didn’t need to know how many stuffies my employee has. How old are you again?”

You’re dumbfounded. He’s choosing now to judge you? And for what, bringing in the small stuffie collection you had in your car? That was so like him. It was oddly both reassuring to have the normalcy and frustrating. “You’re such a jerk, Tom Ryder,” you said.

Quiet. Then an indignant harrumph. The blankets shifted and you felt the mattress dip as he pushed himself off. “Well, fine, if that’s how you’re going to treat me.”

You rolled over to his side of the bed, trying to ignore how nice and warm it was. “Wait!” You grabbed his hand before he went too far. “Tom, wait, please don’t go.”

He peered over his shoulder at you. “Make me.”

Your heart sank a bit. There he goes again, always with the attitude. “Well, you’re kinda proving my point here,” you whispered under your breath.

“What was that?” He turned fully around and squinted down at you.

Goodness gracious, he kinda does look glorious standing there, his bare chest making it hard to formulate sentences, his usual strategically tousled hair ruffled and unkempt. And he doesn’t seem to notice you’re still gripping onto his hand, not that you mind. It’s hot and rougher than you expected from a privileged celebrity.

Thunder claps interrupt your ogling and a nervous ripple hits you. The anxiety might’ve left for a bit but the thought of Tom leaving you alone again with the storm sends all of the worry back into you.

“I didn’t actually mean that, you know that. I was joking around,” you said. Your free hand clutches at the covers.

“I come in here and, and, what? I’m being incredibly nice to you and you insult me as a joke?” His tone carried a bit of a whine to it.

“I know, I’m sorry.” You inhale and exhale with a quiet and quick, “pleasedon’tgo.”

His frown softened and he glanced down at our hands entwined. Lightning danced across the room for a moment, lighting up the room enough for you to spy the smallest smile from him.

You gaped at him. What did you say that earned you a gentle smile from THE Tom Ryder?

Before you can think about it too much, he sighed and leaned down to get back into bed. “Hey, scoot over.”

You let go of his hand and moved back over to your side of the bed.

He fell into the covers and put his arms behind his head, cushioning his head on them. He sighed again. “You absolutely should be grateful, you know.”

“I am,” you whispered.

Thunder booms, closer than any of the other times and you winced. Your breathing is becoming too fast, too irregular.

Tom turned on his side, angling his body to face you. “You’re really scared of storms then?” His usual condescending tone is gone. It’s replaced with something softer.

You nodded, even though he probably can’t see it in the dark, and pulled the covers up to your chin. “Ever since I was a little kid.”

He made a thoughtful sound in the back of his throat. “Do you know why?”

“No. I just get anxious whenever there’s a storm. I can never go to sleep when there’s one happening.” You closed your eyes and put a hand on your chest, trying, willing yourself to just breathe normally.

A huge series of thunder crashes outside and the house shudders, breaking off any thoughts you had. Your body reacted in an almost fight or flight instinct. Without even stopping to think, you slid further into bed and towards Tom, pressing your body against his, your face and his pecs aligned. Your hand wrapped around his arm and you squeezed your eyes closed, praying that the noise will come an end. It sounds like the grand finale of the thunderstorm, like the storm is proud of this last act and wants to show to the world just as loud and powerful it can be. The heat coming from Tom’s body and the solidness of him is the only thing tethering you and keeping you from going too far over the edge.

Finally, it’s quiet. You panted and opened your eyes. His flesh is the only thing in your vision. Your eyes focused on a freckle on his chest and there’s a small part of you that has the urge to kiss it. A blush creeped up with your neck. You realized your nails are digging into his arm and you snatched your hands away.

You can not believe you just freaked out and clung to your boss. In bed. This had to be against so many employer-employee work ethics. If this doesn’t get you fired, you don’t know what will.

“I’m so sorry,” you said, sitting up and starting to push yourself back away from him.

His hand shot out and stopped in your tracks. “No,” he said thickly.

Just... “no?” You have no clue what that meant. He’s probably angry at you now or thinks you’re even more childish, reacting like a baby koala clinging to her mother just because of some storm. With a sinking feeling, you overcome your fear of whatever you might see on his face when you look at him and glanced over at him.

Even in the dark, you can tell his expression is the most serious you’ve ever seen in the months you’ve worked under him.

That was not what you were expecting.

“What did you do about these storms when I wasn’t here?” His voice is low, almost stern.

You pushed your hair back awkwardly. “I don’t know, wait it out? Hide under my covers? When my sister stays at my place sometimes, she’ll calm me down.”

“And how does she do that?”

You swallowed hard. What is he thinking? What is he planning to do with this information? “She holds me until it’s long over.”

Tom’s hand tightened a bit at that. You looked down at it on your arm, you had almost forgotten it was there.

“Well.” He sniffed loudly. “Come here then.” He let go of you and opened his arms, like he’s welcoming you to a hug. The most muscle toned and chiseled hug ever.

Your heart pounded. “You really don’t have to do that, you’ve done more than enough. And the storm sounds like it’s almost over.”

“If your sister does it until the storm is completely over, then I’m going to do it better and do it all night.” He waved a hand in exasperation. “I’ll feel like a heroic knight saving a princess. So stop being stubborn and come here.”

His words are said so easily but the weight of them hits you like a brick. Sure, he always likes being better than everyone and doesn’t like being beaten at anything.

But this was excessive, even for him.

And somehow, in a weird way, it was sweet.

Not knowing what else to do but listen to him, you awkwardly scoot closer to him. His arms wrapped around you and pulled you in, forcing your body to be pressed against his and closing whatever distance you had. Now your head is next to his pecs again, his strong arms around you, cocooning you in. His skin is warm and you can faintly hear his heartbeat. It’s a steady pulse, its gentle rhythm is calming to you. You can feel his chest as he inhales and exhales and you start to match his breathing.

The world has calmed. You feel calm. And safe, surprisingly. Safe and secure with the world’s hottest superstar but to you, a flawed man you’re slowly beginning to realize you enjoy spending time with. Maybe you’re starting to like him, not just tolerate him.

“Thank you, Tom,” you said quietly as you stared up at the ceiling.

He shifted slightly and you feel his sigh ruffle your hair. “Mhmm.” It’s just a sound but it sounded like an audible shrug, like he didn’t think you meant it.

You smiled softly and closed your eyes. “No, really. This is helping. So thank you.”

His chin nestled in your hair as he got comfortable. “Whatever, I’m glad to help.”

Did he sound embarrassed? You grinned bigger. “You’re the best boss ever. You’re like... my hero, my knight in shining sweatpants.”

He groaned. “Now you’re laying it a touch too thick. Be quiet now, I’m trying to sleep.”

You covered your mouth with your hand and laughed quietly. “Okay, okay, goodnight, Tom.”

He murmured a goodnight and pulled you in further, his legs wrapped around yours, practically hugging you like you’re a body pillow. It’s nice. Really really nice.

You smiled again and leaned into the hug.

Okay, maybe you do kinda like him.

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