Eyes Closed ;; Tom Holland
a/n: AHHHHHHHHHH IM SCREAMING BECAUSE BROOOOOO THIS HAS BEEN IN MY HEAD FOR SO LONG AND IM JUST NOW WRITING IT AHHHHHHH. but on another note, lemme know what you think!! please!!
summary: tom and the reader are roommates and he has to close his eyes to help her out in certain situations
warnings: uhhh mentionings of nudity and some foul language
“Thomas!” I yell from the bathroom, hiding my bare, cold, and wet body from behind the shower curtain.
God this was so embarrassing, but an honest mistake as well. My face started to heat up, my mind making up scenarios and the things Tom would say. He’d probably think I’m a major dumbass and who wants to live with a dumbass? Idiots. And Tom is not an idiot so therefor, after this is finished with, I am expecting him to start boxing up his stuff or something.
“Y/N? What’s up, is something wrong?” I hear his concerned voice muffled behind the closed door.
A soft smile is brought to my face at the sound of him, but I hurry to answer his question, “I’m fine, just forgot my towel on my bed. Can you like, I don’t know…”
There’s a brief silence between us and I hear his lighthearted chuckle, “You want me to bring it in there for you, Y/N?”
“I’m that much of a trouble?”
“Not at all, darling.” I listen to his footsteps fade away and then another light knock against the door, “I’m coming in, my hand is over my eyes so I won’t see you.”
I peek from behind the curtain and hold my hand out. The doorknob twists and he opens the door. It hits the door stopper and he walks in. I can’t help but let out a little giggle at how adorable he was acting. I’m glad he let me have my privacy and that he didn’t seemed phased by this. I grab the towel and thank him, our hands brushing in the midst of him handing off the towel.
“You’re great, T.” I smile, drying myself off from behind the curtain.
I hear him shut the door then on the other side of it say, “I’ve always wanted to hear you say that about me!”
Well actually, not really, more like piss but whatever. I’m still stuck on the toilet with no toilet paper. Why am I always stuck in this situation, and why do I always drag Tom into them? By this point, he probably doesn’t care, but I always feel so guilty afterwards.
“Tom!” I yell his name, setting my elbows on my knees in an effort to lean closer to the door. No response, “Thomas Stanley!”
Quick footsteps sound and they make their way closer to the door until it swings open, Tom appearing on the doorframe right in front of me, “Sorry love what’s up-“
“Tom! Get out what the fuck!”
The door slams as I grab the hem of the oversized sweater was wearing and tried to hide myself with it. My face burns with embarrassment, knowing all too well that he saw more than either of us wanted. I hold my head in my hands, mortified. Man, I need to start locking the door.
“I am-” Tom sighs from the other side of the door, “so stupid. And so so so sorry, Y/N.”
I breathe out a laugh, letting go of the sweater, “Your not stupid, it’s fine.”
“What did you need, darling?”
“Uhhh, toilet paper. Sorry.” I chuckle, knowing that the last thing he wanted to do was walk back in to the bathroom with me still sitting on the toilet.
“Alright, I’ll close my eyes this time. I promise.” he says, the smile on his face was evident in his voice.
The door handle twists again and I pull my shirt down again, just in case. His entire arm is thrown across his eyeslids this time as he holds out the toilet paper. I snatch it and he quickly turns around, blindly finding the door and walking out. It was a hilariously precious sight, and so nice knowing that I had at least a little dignity left.
“Thank you! I love you!” I call, tearing off some of the paper, the ripping sounding like angels singing.
“Of course. Wouldn’t want to deliver toilet paper to anyone other than you.”
“Arrghhh!” I groan, throwing my arms down at my sides and stomping my foot in frustration, “This is why I should always wear sports bras.”
The clasp on the back of my bra was stuck and wouldn’t come undone. I would try and pull it over my head, but being that this is my nicest one, I wasn’t willing to risk damaging it. I look at the time on the stove and huff before throwing my arms behind my back again and struggling miserably, again. I should probably head back to my bedroom instead of standing in the middle of the kitchen with no shirt. But alas, the flat door opened and in followed Tom.
And like any sensible girl does when she’s only wearing a bra, I collapsed to the ground, hiding behind the kitchen island.
“Y/N? Why are you broached behind the island?” he laughs, confused by my hiding.
“Uh,” I mumble, trying to think of a reasonable excuse but none are believable, so, i just blurt, “I’m not wearing a shirt and I can’t unhook my bra. Help?”
“My eyes are already closed, love.”
I rise slowly from the ground, watching him navigate his way towards me by touching everything. I guide him, and finally he’s behind me. His fingers cold against my hot skin, causing goosebumps to rise as he fiddles with the clasp.
“Oh, lacey? Who were trying to impress, Y/N?” he hums teasingly, playing with some of the small ruffles on the straps.
“I thought your eyes were closed, hmm? Don’t be a peeping Tom now, Tom.” I laugh at my own pun and can practically sense Tom rolling his eyes at my terrible comment.
“They are love, I’m a man of my word, I can feel the lace though.” He says, his breath hitting the back of my neck, causing a slight shiver to go down my spine, “Who’s the lucky guy?”
“Myself.” I state matter-of-factly.
“Atta girl.” he chuckles, finally twisting the clasp free.
“Wow, you must have experience, Holland.” I chuckle, wondering how in the world he unhooked it with his eyes closed.
“Well,” he mumbles, eyes still closed as I start to walk away, “I may have peeked once or twice. And the blue looks nice on you I must say.”
“Thomas!” I squeal, running back to my room and shutting the door behind me.