Versace on the Floor
Anon Request: Hi, can I ask for a story where you’re jealous/insecure over Tom’s reaction to Zendaya in the “Versace on the floor” music vid?
Warnings: jealous reader, Tom kind of being a jerk at first, ends in fluff
(Y/N) lay beside her boyfriend, half asleep as she rolled over to face him. A slow, piano introduction lulled her away from the grips of sleep. Slowly, her eyes opened from her nap and she rested her head in the crook between her boyfriend’s chest and shoulder.
“What are you watching babe?” she asked while dropping her arm across his chest.
“Music video,” he stated as he held it above their faces. Upon seeing who was being showcased in the video, she couldn’t help the pain rising into her chest. (Y/N) and Tom hadn’t been together very long–she had come into his life on accident and for some reason, he decided to keep her around. She knew there was nothing special about her and had always struggled with the attention Tom receives from his female friends and fans, but her biggest insecurity was Zendaya.
(Y/N) hated how jealous she had become of her. She knew Zendaya and Tom were just friends, but when the rumors surfaced of them having a secret relationship–despite knowing they were fake–she couldn’t help but get herself worked up. It made sense. Zendaya and Tom had a connection; they worked well together. On top of that, she was kind hearted, sweet, down to earth, and stunningly beautiful. In reality, (Y/N) knew that Tom deserved to be with someone like Zendaya rather than herself: an insecure nobody who could be as replaceable as a trash bag.
Slowly, (Y/N)’s eyes gazed along the man beside her. His face was glued to his phone screen and slowly, whether it be because his arm grew tired or he forgot (Y/N) was there, lowered it closer to his line of sight.
“Are you humming the melody?” (Y/N) asked in a tone of aggravation she quickly tried to mask through a laugh.
“Maybe,” Tom said with a low smirk, “shut up!”
“Exactly how many times have you watched this video?” (Y/N) inquired as she tried to drape more of her body across his to direct his attention to her rather than the screen.
“Maybe three, why?” he laughed while still glancing up at the screen but stealing peeks at the girl curled against him.
“No reason,” she muttered as she threw her leg across his thighs and hurried her face into his chest, her ear pressed gently just above his heart. As she listened to the beating of Tom’s heart and the rather sexually charged song, her own heart turned to stone as her eyes peered at the video for a moment–catching a bit where Zendaya traces her body and bites her lip before stripping out of the dress.
Upon watching this, (Y/N) couldn’t help but acknowledge the increased rhythm of Tom’s heartbeat and the subtle pulse between his legs against her own. For a moment she tried to ignore all that she felt and heard just then but she was unable to hide her pain. Quickly, she rolled in the opposite direction, peeled herself from Tom’s body, and stared at the ceiling for a moment before sitting up and dangling her feet from the bed.
“Where are you going?” Tom asked as he glanced toward the girl who had just pushed herself from the edge of the bed and pulled a flannel over her bare arms and tank-top clad body.
“Hungry,” she lied as she paced through Tom’s room and toward the door.
“Can you make me something too?” he called after her. (Y/N) rolled her eyes as she heard his request and quietly made her way towards Tom’s joint living room and kitchen. “Babe?” Bounding from the bed, his heavy footsteps could be heard as he made his way toward her. “Did you not hear me?” he asked with a laugh as he put his arms around her.
“I heard you,” she grumbled.
“Then why didn’t you say something love?” Tom chuckled into her ear.
“Because you’re a grown ass man who can get his own food,” she said with a short tone.
“(Y/N), what’s wrong?” he asked while trying to pull her into a close hug.
“Nothing,” she groaned while grabbing a spoon and the jar of peanut butter.
“Stop lying to me, (Y/N),” Tom pestered. “I know you’re angry.”
“I’m not angry,” she protested as she doubled dipped in Tom’s peanut butter jar.
“Passive aggressively double dipping means you’re angry. We’ve been together long enough for me to pick up on that,” Tom said while repressing a small chuckle as (Y/N)’s nose curled at his cocky behavior.
“Well double dipping is a stupid rule in the first place,” she gasped. “You’ll stick your tongue in my mouth but I can’t stick a spoon or chip in something twice?”
“My double dipping quirk isn’t on trial here,” Tom protested as he took the JIF from (Y/N)’s hands and screwed the lid on. “Your jealousy is.” Taken back by his assertive demeanor, (Y/N) raised her eyebrows and lowered her tone.
“Excuse me?” she started. “Do you mind restating that or is this what we’re going to do today?”
“How else should I put it? You’re angry and I can’t imagine why since nothing has happened besides me confiscating my peanut butter and showing you that video. Given that you were angrily eating my peanut butter, and passive aggressively double dipping, I’m guessing it’s the video that made you mad.” Tom breathed heavily as he leaned against the counter after placing (Y/N)’s snack behind him, forcing her to discuss the situation and physically approach him in order to get what she wants back.
“No, Thomas, it wasn’t the video,” she stated. Tom’s lips curled as she said his full name. She had never called him ‘Thomas’ before but he knew that couldn’t have been a good sign. “It was the way you reacted to the video.”Confused, Tom furrowed his eyebrows and stared at (Y/N) for an explanation. “Your heart was accelerating, you watched it repeatedly, and you can’t sit there and tell me that on that last bit you weren’t slightly turned on because I could feel it–I knew you were.”
“And so you automatically think I’m…I’m what, wanting to cheat on you? That you’re just some place holder until I can woo Zendaya?”
“It’s not the greatest feeling in the world to think about someone you care about getting off to someone else,” (Y/N) grumbled while debating if it was best to leave the kitchen and try to abandon the situation or stew in the sheer awkwardness of what was happening.
“You’re too smart to be this fucking dense,” he huffed while tossing his hands into his hair in frustration. Equally frustrated at his maneuver, (Y/N) pushed past him and rinsed of the dirty spoon in the sink before pacing back into the bedroom and fighting the urge to lock herself in there. Desperate, she tried to search for her keys. “(Y/N),” Tom sighed, “what are you doing?” When she didn’t listen and continued to search for her keys, Tom’s tone started to harden. “Love, I was joking.”
“Don’t call me that,” she stated as she spun back around to face him with tears resting along her eyelids.
“Darling, stop,” Tom called while stepping forward and taking hold of her arm. “Look at me,” he prompted as she stubbornly bit her lip and reluctantly brought her face to his. “Tell me what’s the matter.” With bitterness in her heart, (Y/N) looked Tom dead in the eyes and spoke.
“You’re too smart to be this dense,” she spat back.
“You know that’s not true, (Y/N),” he called out to her.
“Cut yourself some slack every now and then Tom,” she said in returned while breaking free from his grasp to wipe the tears that had started to fall.
“(Y/N),” Tom called as his girlfriend continued to search his room for her car keys. “(Y/N) wait!”
“What?” she snapped while turned back to him.
“What are you trying to do?” he asked in a calm, quiet voice.
“I’m trying to leave,” she stated.
“Why are you leaving?” he asked again, trying to calm himself so that he could help her come down from the elevated levels of anxiety rushing through her body.
“Because I don’t want to sit here and think about how you’re better off with anyone besides me,” she stated in aggravation.
“Why in the world would you think that, love?” he asked again, this time managing to lace his fingers into hers.
“Because,” she stammered while slipping her hand from his. “Because you deserve someone like her. You deserve so much more than the little I have to offer. You should be happy and after noticing your reaction to the video, I can see you’d be happier with her.” Tom hated to hear those words flow from her mouth. His lips bore together so tense there wasn’t a gap for airflow to be seen. His jaw line clenched and his eyes narrowed down at the girl before him. For a solid two minutes he stood in silence, trying to find the right words to say while trying to keep his heart from breaking as he witnessed this precious soul crumble before him.
“I clearly must not be a very good boyfriend for you to think that,” he said softly. Instantly, (Y/N)’s head perked up and her eyes exhibited the fear her heard had hidden. Tom could clearly see her lips mouth the word ‘no’ as she gasped for air. He extended his arms and pulled her against him; holding her around her shoulder blades, her arms slipped around his waist and he rested his chin on her shoulder. “I don’t want you to ever think that I don’t care for you. You mean so much more to me than any woman ever could and I should have told you that before. I should have told you loads of things before now that I haven’t and, I suppose it’s not proper timing to say this now, but I was thinking of you earlier.” Against his chest, as he spoke, Tom could feel (Y/N)’s breathing begin to slow and he pulled her even closer. “I was imagining if that were us, but I didn’t say anything because I, well I didn’t know how to say it.”
(Y/N) clung to Tom as tightly as he clung to her. Her light assault of tears had subsided minutes ago but she still wasn’t certain on whether to take his apology for all it was worth or not. She cared about him too much to lose him, but then again, she knew she had to preserve herself from any more potential heartache that would come from a half-assed apology. It wasn’t until she felt the slightly dampened shoulder of the flannel she wore that she realized Tom was equally hurt. She knew Tom was sensitive–in fact it was one of the features she found most relieving about his personality–but she wouldn’t have thought he would be so hurt by his own words.
“You’re not a bad boyfriend, Tom,” she said softly as her arms loosened from his waist and she took his jaw in her hands. “You’re just too good to me that I sometimes think you’re too good for me.”
“I don’t ever want you to think that love,” he stated with such conviction as he pressed his lips against hers. “I love you, (Y/N), and I don’t want you to ever believe you’re not enough. You are more than I could have ever asked for and I am truly happy to share my time and my life with you.” He took her again in his arms and pulled her beneath the covers. While the world spun on they laid beside one another and slept in the purest form, comforted by the fact that the other was there and that their lives had grown closer through the argument caused by ‘Versace on the Floor.’