Falling - Tom Holland imagine

Chapter 40

Warning - SMUT

I was home the next day and we pretty much barricaded ourselves in. Toms work was done for now, and after the last 2 weeks we needed to be safe. Tom began working out more at home rather than go to the gym and we had home delivery shopping to avoid that too. We both stayed off social media, allowing Toms publicist to post the occasional update on Instagram to keep people in the loop, and she reported back that there was so much good will out there for both of us, and she was getting lots of calls with job offers for adverts, from magazines, and interview requests which she forwarded to his email for him to sort through.  Tessa still needed walks  but they could be done very early in the morning or late at night to avoid people, and the Hollands took her out sometimes during the day too. They were round quite often, helping to break up the monotony of tv and playstation games. 

It was nearing the end of April, and I'd had my 34 week scan, with all looking good when Tom received a request for an appearance on the Graham Norton show again. He talked it through with me and I felt he would be safe on there and no painful questions would go his way as it wasn't Grahams way of doing things, so he accepted. It was just a week away and he was being touted as a special guest; he'd already spoken briefly with Graham who had sympathised with the situation and offered a chance for him to clear the air over his live stream as well as get some promo in for the animated movie which was beginning to be touted around and pressure applied for him to do press.

So that afternoon, I packed him off in a car to the studios, promising to watch him and call if I needed anything and tell his family if it was something too urgent to wait for him to answer he insisted, looking at my enormous stomach and my ever approaching due date. Settling down with a book and some raspberry leaf tea I prepared myself for a long afternoon, intersperced with many trips for a pee, twice for Tessa to go out, 4 times for a snack/mini meal and once for Nikki to check in on me. The evening grew late and I turned on BBC 1 to enjoy the love of my life on screen. 

The show was great, the guests fun and engaging and most importantly the father of my children, sitting with ease on the sofa, wearing a delectable dark blue t shirt under his suit and those sexy glasses. Damn, I sighed to myself. 

It went well, so well I cried, and it wasn't just the hormones. He told honestly how bad it had been for us, that there was no reason why his personal life had to be completely open for public consumption - he was allowed to live his private life privately which all the guests agreed with, having similar experiences. Then with a sad smile on his face he told how he'd come home from work to find me crumpled in an unconscious heap in the kitchen and how he'd panicked, calling an ambulance, thinking I was seriously hurt or the babies were and how it was all down to the vicious, cruel comments aimed at me and moreso his unborn innocent children, and how once it was confirmed we were ok he'd gone off on one on live stream - he just couldn't help it he was so angry, he'd said disarmingly, leading to an outpouring of disgust and condemnation of the trolls attacks  - Tom no longer considered them fans. Once again, this time on national tv, he had confirmed it was twins, something Graham picked up on getting him to admit we were expecting one of each in the next month or so.

I was asleep when he got home from the show, and woke much later with a blanket over me and a note saying he was in bed and to  stay sleeping there if I was more comfortable. I was, but I needed to feel him next to me, his hands stroking the gently hiccuping babies, soothing them as much as he soothed me, wrapped in his safe, strong loving arms. So I hauled myself to my feet, and clambered up the stairs on all fours rather than risk toppling over in my sleepy aching state, stumbling into the bedroom where Tom lifted the duvet for me to slide into and began to hold me close, kissing my forehead softly and wrapping his body around mine, feeling for his babies and the gentle push of their limbs against my belly, and his hand, from the inside as they twisted and shifted in the late hours. Feeling the tightening of my muscles as my body endured Braxton Hicks contractions as it readied itself for the day that would come soon. Safe I pulled a pillow between my legs to balance out my hips,and drifted back to sleep.