Tom Kaulitz Imagines and reactions ✧

Lost in the moment ᝰ.ᐟ

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Tom Kaulitz leaned back against the couch, his guitar resting on his lap as he absentmindedly strummed a soft melody. The dim lighting of the hotel suite cast a warm glow around the room, and the faint sound of rain pattering against the window made the moment feel even more intimate.

Y/N sat beside him, curled up in one of his oversized hoodies, watching him with a lazy smile. "You always play when you're thinking about something," she murmured, tilting her head. "What's on your mind?"

Tom glanced at her, his lips quirking into that signature smirk of his. "You," he admitted, setting the guitar aside. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You're always on my mind."

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Smooth, Kaulitz."

Laughing, Tom pulled her closer, wrapping his arms around her. "I'm serious. The tour, the music, the chaos... it all fades when I'm with you." His voice dropped to a soft murmur, his forehead resting against hers. "You're my calm in all of this."

Her heart fluttered as she traced the tattoos on his arm, feeling the steady rhythm gof his heartbeat beneath her fingertips. "And you're mine," she whispered.

Tom leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a slow, lingering kiss—one that spoke of love, devotion, and the quiet promise of forever.

His voice husky, "I used to think music was the only thing that made me feel alive." His lips trailed from her cheek to her neck, leaving soft, warm kisses that sent shivers down her spine. "But then you came along, and suddenly, I realized..." He pulled back just enough to meet her gaze, his deep brown eyes full of something unspoken—something raw and real.

She swallowed, her hand resting against his chest, feeling the warmth beneath his shirt. "Realized what?" she breathed.

"That love—real love—feels better than any song I could ever write."

Her chest tightened, emotions swelling inside her. "Tom..."

He smiled, the kind of smile that made her knees weak even when she was already lying down. "I mean it," he whispered. "With you, I don't need anything else."

Y/N reached up, cupping his face in her hands. "Then don't let go."

Tom pressed his lips to hers again, this time with more urgency, more certainty. It was a kiss filled with the weight of a thousand love songs, and at that moment, the world outside ceased to exist.

It was just them—lost in the moment, lost in love.

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