#frattom
❧ synopsis: after the collapsing of an unhealthy relationship, each side begins to improve and thrive, one for the other, one for themselves. coincidentally, they meet at the same dreaded party that led to the breaking of their relationship. will this unfortunate series of events lead them to opportunity?
❧ pairing: jock!tom x fem!reader
❧ genre: fluff
❧ warnings: mild angst, fluffy-ish ending, exes to friends to lovers, one or two curse words, lil bit of crying, mentions of alcohol
❧ a/n: it’s finally over. thank goodness. this also is so long it can be considered a second part fuck. i know i took a whole month to write this, but i barely have free time to write nowadays and the times i do, i don’t have much inspiration. anyways this came out better than i expected so hope you guys enjoy.
in order to understand this ending, please read this first: her hidden crystal tears
masterlist prompt list add yourself on my taglist!
In the first month you spent broken up with Tom, you, for once, felt at peace, with no burden of hiding relationships and denying feelings. You had forgotten how free living singly was. Within that month, you were able to reshape your life. Your grades began to improve, and your mental health had phenomenally developed for he better. Your friends had even gone out of their ways to help you with a “glow up.”
Tom, on the other hand, had tried to shape him into a better person in hopes of salvaging your crumbling, if you could even call it that, relationship. He worked harder in class, and every time he saw you sitting in the lecture hall, you were surrounded by other classmates, giving him no place to fit in. He also started to distance himself from his old group of friends, looking for a better, influential group.
Tom couldn’t help but feel a tug at his heart when he saw you walking with one other friend to class, laughing at something they said. He saw how your under eye-bags turned bright and how you shoulders straightened up after the breakup. It broke his heart to know the negative impact he had on you, which you never complained or spoke out about.
The brunette wanted to improve for you andhimself.
How you ended up in a pair of high-waisted, black, denim shorts and a black bandeau with a sheer, cropped, long-sleeved shirt overtop you didn’t know. After much begging and bothering, your friend had convinced you to go to the afterparty of the football game. You tried your best to deny their attempts but failed when they baited you with money.
This would be your first time attending a party, for you were always driven home and away from them. You couldn’t deny, though, the chills that snaked down your spine at the mention of it.
Stepping into the house, you noticed how similar it looked to a fraternity. People were dancing, pushing their bodies against others and grinding their hips onto drunk partners. Other students were playing beer pong, stripping on tables, or resting on couches with a red, plastic cup in their hands. It smelled terribly of sweat and oversaturated body spray, making you gag on your breath.
“How do so many people like this?” You shouted over the pounding music and loud voices.
“How do you not?” You friend giggled, dragging you through the crowd.
Dodging and pushing people off of you, you gripped your friend’s hand tightly, afraid of losing them.
“Where are we going?” You asked, eyes darting all over the place in uncertainty.
“Before we party, we’ve got to get drinks,” they pushed the door of the kitchen open, revealing the alcohol infested space.
Scrambling over to the bulky cooler, they grabbed a can of beer, popping it open and downing it.
Flinching in disgust, you commented, “Don’t you want to wash that, first?”
“What d'you mean? It looks perfectly clean to me,” they shrugged, throwing you a can.
You clumsily captured the condensated drink, before putting it on the counter behind you, “I don’t drink.”
They groaned, “Why are you such a doormat? Come on,” they nudged your shoulder, “Live a little.”
You laughed, “I can "live a little” just fine with water.“
"Ugh, fine. I’m guessing you also want to sit in a corner and become a hermit,” they spoke, sarcastically.
“Actually,” your eyes lit up, “I do.”
“You,” they pointed at you unsteadily, “annoy me, but since I already brought you along,” their finger moved to point at an idle seat in the corner of a calmer room, “There.”
You nodded, eyeing the isolated spot with glee. However, before your friend could escape into the crowd, you told them to stay safe and slipped away to occupy said seat.
Although Tom no longer associated himself with his old group of friends, he couldn’t avoid them forever, as they were his teammates. Also, as the captain of the football team, it was practically an obligation for him to attend the after parties.
Honestly, ever since you had broken up with Tom, he had developed a small fear of being whisked away by his fangirls and teammates, constantly thinking you were waiting in his car for him. His guilt had piled on top of his conscious, leaving him an insecure wreck.
Nevertheless, he stepped into the filled building, nodding and waving at familiar faces. One face he wasn’t expecting to see sat in the corner of the room was yours.
He shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut, he murmured to himself, “She’s not there, you idiot.”
“Tom, buddy,” a familiar voice hollered.
Through your peripheral vision, you swore that you saw his chocolate curls, but when you looked up from your phone, he had disappeared. Your eyes began to dart through the crowd of people, looking for the man you supposedly had gotten over.
Quickly realizing your mistake, you shunned yourself for willingly wrapping yourself around his little finger. You returned to scrolling through your phone, distracting yourself with the illuminated screen.
Tom watched as his teammate, and former friend, grabbed at a girl swaying her hips, pushing her ass against his friend’s crotch, into a grind. Suddenly feeling highly uncomfortable where he stood, he moved into the kitchen to grab a drink.
The room let in muffled sounds but ultimately was the quietest room in the building. The white LED lights left the room bright and easy to navigate, albeit the clusters of finished drinks and used cups littered on the counters and in the sink and overflowing out of the trashcan.
The brunette drifted over to the fridge, locating the fresh water bottles hidden from other partygoers.
Feeling quenched, you stood up from your seat, unwillingly. You looked for a quick and precise path to the kitchen, though you failed to do so. Deciding to extemporize it, you awkwardly squished your way through the crowd, mumbling “excuse me” and “sorry” periodically.
Pushing the white-paint clad, wooden door open, you stumbled your way into the room, glaring at the sudden brightness engulfing your vision.
Hearing the music and sound of people cheering grow louder, Tom turned around to see the oh-so familiar girl he had fallen infatuated with many months ago.
You stood, blinking your eyes as they tried to adapt to the sudden change of lighting. Groaning, your hands began massaging and harassing the poor skin of your eyelids.
Your unnoticed ex, still stood in front of the fridge with a cool bottle of water in his hand, smiled at your adorable behaviour — widely contrasting your provocative outfit — watching as your cheeks puffed out in frustration.
Feeling the haze leave your eyes, you looked ahead of you to see a silhouette emerging. Embarrassed, you blushed, looking down at your shoes.
You felt a cool presence resting beside your cheek, and quickly looked at the item.
Water?You thought, confused.
Eyes trailing up the arm holding the bottle, your met with the sight of your former boyfriend smiling at you.
“Tom,” you breathed.
After avoiding and ignoring the boy for so many weeks, you already had forgotten how sweet he looked with a smile and soft blush grazing his cheeks. Maybe you hadn’t forgotten; you were just rarely, if ever, given the opportunity to admire it.
“Hey,” he responded, shyly rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand.
You glanced at the bottle then back to Tom, silently asking what he was doing with it.
“O-Oh, I just thought you’d want a bottle of water, since you don’t drink, but if you do now, that’s totally cool too,” he rambled nervously, like a little boy talking to his crush on the playground.
Although you had only broken up with him a bit over a month ago, you couldn’t bring yourself to trust taking the drink from him.
“Thanks, but I can get one myself. I’m sure you wanted to drink that too.”
You gave him an awkward, tight-lipped smile before walking past him to the fridge. Reaching into the cool container, you pulled out a frosted water bottle.
The situation was strange. Everything felt so familiar but so different. It didn’t feel right to talk to each other like you knew how they slept in bed at night or how they loved warm cuddles on the couch as they binged shows and movies.
“Look, Y/N,” Tom spoke up, breaking the tension with a breath, “I know that I was a jerk we were together. I also know that I neglected you. I shouldn’t have cared about what everyone else thought about our relationship.
“Looking back, I understand why you were so frustrated with me, and you had every right to break up with me. I was a wuss that used protecting you as an excuse to keep you under covers. I reveled in the popularity and attention I got, back then.
“I’m different, now, though. I’m not saying you have to take me back. You don’t even have to consider it. All I want to do, right here, right now, is to apologize to you, so, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for all the anguish and sadness I caused. I’m sorry you had to waste your tears on me. I’m so fucking sorry, and if I have the slightest chance to even be your friend again, please let me take it.”
You felt a churning in your core, and tears prickled the corner of your eyes. You didn’t understand where your emotions arose from. You thought that you had moved on from Tom. You thought you had left him behind, left him in the shadows of your life.
You turned around, hand reaching up to quickly wipe your tears away. That is, until a calloused hand grabbed your wrist.
“Don’t,” the accented voice choked, “It hurts me as much as it does you.”
Your words were caught in your throat. You tried to say something, anything, but nothing but sobs slipped your lips.
Everything became a blur. You could only feel warmth enveloping you.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, darling,” Tom murmured into your hair.
After the encounter at the party, you and Tom went on with your life as normal.
Although, nothing that happened that night could be considered normal. You cried while he held you tightly in his arms. He apologized for his faults and asked for a second chance, as a friend or more. You forgave him and gave him the chance.
Will you ever want to have the same relationship you had with Tom as before? No.
You and Tom are working on building a better, healthier relationship for the both of you: an open and honest relationship that won’t be hidden from anyone, especially not his “fangirls.”
“Don’t ever hide your tears again,” Tom whispered into your hair, “Let them flow.” His pointer finger gently lifts your chin, locking his eyes with your tear-filled ones. He brings his thumb to your cheek, wiping away the shining streaks of pain, sadness, desperation.
“Let them flow because I’ll be here. I’ll be here to wipe them away every and any time.”
taglist:@big-galaxy-chaos@chloecreatesfictions-archive@dpaccione @cuddlykoala101@tomshufflepuff@lmaotshollanddif you would like to be removed from the taglist, please send to my inbox
