Thomas Brodie-Sangster Imagines

Evening Shower

First imagine YEET

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The clock had just hit eight, and you and your boyfriend were both drenched from head to toe after you'd (spontaneously) decided to have a mud fight in the pouring rain. Thomas, being the gentleman that he is, had decided to let you have a shower first. After soaping up and rinsing down a few dozen times, you finally stepped out of the warm shower and wrapped a towel around your shoulders.

"Thomas, I'm done," you yelled.

"Alright, I'm coming!" He shouted back, racing through the house to grab his clean clothes, a trail of muddy footprints being left in his wake.

"Thomas!" You gasped, looking down to where he'd come from.

"What?" Came the innocently toned voice of Thomas, who full well knew about the mess he had made.

"Look what you've done to the floor! I only cleaned that yesterday!" You said, pointing to the once clean and polished wooden floor.

"As if you'd actually clean something! You're the messiest person I know! And half of these footprints are yours."

"That wasn't me!" you argued.

Thomas raised an eyebrow.

"You were chasing me around the house, so technically it wasn't all my fault," you explained, pleased with your narrow attempt at a comeback.

"Okay fine, it was both our asses, now let me through, I need to take my shower," he said, flicking mud at your clean face and clothes, spraying them in a thin coating of goo.

"Ugh, you bugger! You absolute bugger Thomas Brodie-Sangster!" You laughed

"Oh I'm sorry, is the little baby scared of a bit of mud?" He said, a smirk growing on his face.

"You bugger..." you said quietly as he gazed into your eyes with his dreamy, chocolate brown ones.

"Hmm, I may be a bugger, but I'm your bugger," he whispered, leaning further towards you and pecking your lips.

You loved his cocky, dorky side, but were growing slightly more annoyed as he repetitively kissed your face, leaving behind a large, inconvenient muddy smudge.
"Thomas,"

"Yes, darling?"

"Go and take your shower," you laughed, pointing at the hot steam pouring out of the bathroom.
"Oh, you're no fun!" He said smirking, turning away from you to collect his dry clothes, and with one swift movement, shutting the bathroom door behind him.

"What a dork," you muttered to yourself, smiling, wiping the splattered mud off your face with your jumper sleeve. An idea popped into your head, well, more like a plan, and just the thought of it made your mischievous side glow. You were going to play your turn at the cocky game your boyfriend had started, and boy, oh boy was it going to be great...

———TIME SKIP———
"Y/n," Thomas called out of the bathroom after switching off the running water.

"Yeah?"

"Have you seen my spare clothes? And my towel?" He yelled
"No, I don't think I have, Tommy!" You answered, a giggle slipping through your lips.

"Yes, you bloody have! You've taken them haven't you!"

"Well, I might have, I can't remember," you cooed "I was so distracted trying to wipe the mud off my face after you attacked me that I simply have forgotten."

"Give 'em back Y/n!"

"That's not a very polite way of asking!" You replied.

"I'm getting bloody cold and if you don't give them back now, then I'll have to come out and get them myself!" He said, attempting, and failing, to sound intimidating.

"Well, I'm not giving up that easy Sansgter, so yeah! You will have to come out and get them yourself,"

After you had made your comeback, you heard a "Fine!" erupt from the bathroom. A few rustles, the splatter of wet feet on the marble floor, and moments later, a very annoyed Thomas Brodie-Sangster was staring at you from the doorway, with nothing more than a shower curtain messily wrapped around his torso.

"Give me my stuff back Y/l/n," he said, a smirk lingering on his lips.

"You'll have to find them first," you sniggered, unable to hold back your amusement at his, peculiar, outfit of choice.

"Y/n, I'm so bloody freezing that my hand's going to shake so much I'll end up dropping this curtain and exposing something I don't think would be quite appropriate," He said through chattering teeth, water dripping down his bare chest and legs.

"Oh that would be a shame Thomas, but I think you look rather hot with just that curtain on,"you smirked, biting your lip as you admired his muscular body.

"Oh do I now?" He said, suddenly making a move towards your sitting figure.
All you could do was nod, as he began to climb onto the bed and slowly crawled over to you.

"Hmm, well I'd like my clothes and towel back, so if you don't hand them over, I might have to tickle you," He paused and leaned over you, "until you give in,"

"Alright then!" You said simply, with yet another plan lurking in your mind.

"Okay then," he responded. "3...2...1-" and with that, he lurched forward with one hand, and began to tickle you under your neck.

You giggled uncontrollably as he moved from your underarms to your stomach, and back under your neck. You finally found control of your body, and wriggled out of his grasp and made your way over to the edge of the bed, trying not to let him catch you.

"Come back here cheeky!" He laughed, following you.

You quickly lunged under the bed and with your hand, grasped your secret weapon, and when Thomas was less than half a meter away, you threw your bomb.

Instantly, he halted in shock, whilst you began to giggle at him, all covered in flour.
"Gotcha!" You shouted happily. He slowly raised his hand, and wiped away the thick white powder from his eyes, and stared at you.
"You. Little. Ass hole," he whispered, in a failing menacing tone, as he attempted to hide his smile.
"D-do you want your stuff then?" You asked, lifting his now flour coated pillow to reveal his grey sweatpants, boxers, black t-shirt and towel.
"Hmff," he grunted, grabbing his clothes with his free hand, and making his way back to you.
"You got me. You got me real good, but next time, I WILL get my revenge," he said leaning in, still trying not to smirk.
You couldn't help but continue giggling at his face, his beautiful eyes and plump lips popping out from beneath the layer of flour.
"Okay..." you whispered, wiping away some flour from the tip of his nose with your finger.
"You're such a dork Y/n, you know that?"
"Yea, I do know that, but I'm your dork," you whispered, smiling at him knowing he had to admit defeat.
"Mhm," he hummed, blowing a puff of excess flour at your face.
"You are my dork," he laughed, climbing off the bed and leaving for the bathroom, to take another shower.