Tom Holland Imagines!!
Everything from fluff to Tom being protective to pregnancy ones to acting together on set, you name it!
And for all my innocent girls out there, not a lot of inappropriate stuff, the farthest I'll go is a little kiss session ;)
"I would never do that," you interrupted, and Tom rolled his eyes.
"We'll have separate rooms, you can do your own thing, there's a lot of downtime during Christmas at my house. Come on Y/N please?" he begged. You heaved a sigh. You could use the money.
"$1,000 and a $25 (your favorite place or restaurant) gift card!" you bargained with a smirk. Tom rolled his eyes.
"Ugh, fine deal."
And you both shook on it.
So, now here you were packing up a bag for a week-long trip to Kingston upon Thames in London.
"Harrison, I swear if this gets out," you threaten. Harrison holds his hands up in surrender.
"It won't, no one knows where Tom lives, and I have his brothers under oath not to say anything to anyone," Harrison states. You shoot him a glare and sigh.
"Okay, Harrison." There's a knock at your door and you groan.
"Do I have to do this?" you sigh. Harrison shoots you a smirk.
"$1,000 and a $25 (your favorite restaurant or place) gift card!" Harrison reminds you in a sing-song voice.
"Okay fine, catch you later Harrison," you say with a wave and hang up the phone. There's another knock and you groan.
"Gosh, I'm coming!!" you yell. You grab your suitcase and backpack and roll them to the front door. As you open the door, there's Tom, his hand prepared for another knock.
"Ever heard of patience?" you seethe. Tom rolls his eyes, and you walk back to your bedroom, leaving the door open. Tom strolls in inspecting your apartment. A simple, open floor plan. Wood floors in y/f/c, are across the whole house. There's a y/f/c couch facing a TV with a matching armchair facing the door. There's an end table and a matching coffee table scattered with books and magazines.
The kitchen has an island counter with y/f countertops ( I love marble gray and white granite LOL), and an L shaped counter against the wall. Stainless steel appliances, and those cool cupboards that open up instead of out.
"Nice place," Tom says to himself.
"What?" you ask him, walking into the room. He looks at you, and his breath catches for a second. You're wearing a knitted gray dress, with a plaid infinity scarf. Your y/c/h is shiny, and in waves, tumbling down your shoulders. Your eyes look fun and playful, fading from gold to black, thick with mascara. Your lips are painted sparkly pink.
How could she look so pretty all the time, Tom thinks.
You shoot Tom a look.
"Um... something wrong with my outfit?" you snort. Tom shakes off his daze and rolls his eyes.
"Just surprised you have something else in your closet besides sweats and sneakers," he scoffs. You sneer at him.
"Fine then!" you cry, sashaying out the door. Tom runs after you.
"What about your bags?" he calls. You scoff.
"Boyfriends carry their girlfriends' bags, babe!" you tease in an innocent voice. You bat your eyelashes with a pout, making Tom melt, but he covers it up and groans, going to get your bags.
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