HufflepuffHolland's Writing Collection

Slow Hands // Tom Holland

"We should take this back to my place," he whispered, catching you by surprise as he set you back down on your feet. You two had never extended your affairs outside of the house the parties you went to were being held at. You laughed lightly, your hands falling from his hair as one of them cupped his cheek.

"That's not how we work, Tommy." You winked at him, fixing your top as he looked at you, confused. You checked yourself in the mirror, wiping away the slightly smeared lipstick at the corners of your mouth and sighing as you looked at him through the mirror. "There's a party next week," you shrugged, smiling at him, "maybe I'll see you there." And with that, you unlocked the bathroom door and made your way out. Tom sighed in frustration, flipping off the guy that was complaining as he made his way out, searching for Jacob.

Tom hated these fucking parties. But, would he always come to it, thinking you'd be here to satisfy his craving? Hell yes. His eyes searched the room for you, ignoring Harrison's attempt to talk over the even shittier music at this party. He brought Harrison and Jacob, just so if he'd see you, they'd be too distracted with each other to ask where he was going or where he'd been. He almost said, 'fuck it' and asked the boys if they wanted to leave – then, he saw you. Walking up the stairs. You turned around, seeing him looking at you. You flashed him a smile, waving as you turned to walk again, your steps slower and your hips moving a bit more dramatically.

I've been thinking 'bout it all day

And I hope you feel the same way, yeah

Tom didn't even tell his friends he was leaving, his instincts carried him up the stairs in hopes to find you alone. But, when he made it up to the top of the staircase, he didn't see you. He was about to head for the bathroom again until he felt a hand, on his shoulder, turning him around.

'Cause I want you bad

Yeah, I want you, baby

"There's an empty bedroom behind me – if you want to," your left eye dropped to a wink. He felt like he had to work fast, or else you'd change your mind. He wasted no time again, walking past you and opening the door, pulling you in and then locking it, just like he had done the week before to the bathroom door. Instead of pinning you against the door, this time he rushed you to the bed, picking you up and dropping you on the mattress softly, relishing in the sound of your laugh and memorizing the curves of your smile as he leaned over you, dropping down to kiss you.

Slow, slow hands,

like sweat dripping down our dirty laundry

The windows were wide open and you could feel a breeze coming through – but, as both of your hands worked quickly on the other, trying to pry each other's clothing off, you felt the intensity of a heat. Your palms began to sweat and Tom desperately tried to tear his shirt off, his hand coming up to brush his hair back as it began to stick against his forehead, making it unbearably hotter than it was. You both were too into each other to focus on how hot it had gotten, your body heat only making the other irresistible to you.

I just wanna take my time

We could do this, baby, all night, yeah

Tom's hands slowed as soon as you were out of your top, his hands starting to leave random shapes on your skin as he kissed you on your lips, your cheek, your neck, your chest. His lips had reached your stomach when a phone rang. You both ignored it, Tom's loud pants distracting the both of you as your hand disappeared into Tom's unbuttoned jeans and his loose, white Calvin's. He groaned loudly as your hand worked against him, only snapping out of his pleasurable trance when there was a knock on the door.

"Tom?" He groaned, his head rolling back in annoyance when he felt your hand leave him. He looked at you apologetically as he reached for his shirt, slipping it on.