HufflepuffHolland's Writing Collection

Different Ways To Be Intimate // Tom Holland

By Hufflepuffholland on Tumblr

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Just small descriptions of non-sexual acts of intimacy with Tom.

*Notes: This is for Cassie ( @purelyparker ). She's having a really rough time right now, just wanted to make it a little less rough :) xoxo

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Tom and you had been dating for a little over seven months – agreeing to take things slow between you two, especially when both of your schedules were busy, you two had very rare physically intimate moments. It had started with shameless flirting, not expecting it to go any further than that. Then, out of nowhere, you two were going on dates. They weren't official, he'd ask if you wanted to get ice cream with him, some days coffee. You'd ask him if he'd like to come over and watch a movie or go to the park with you. It was very subtle, so subtle that neither of you realized what was happening. Soon enough, verbal 'goodnights' became kisses on the cheeks, slowly turning into kisses on the mouth.

Tom could remember the first time he held your hand. It was soft in comparison to his. His hands were rough and sweaty and he was nervous. It was your first official date as a couple, not one of your subtle, unspoken dates. He hadn't been on one in a long time – especially with someone he liked so much. He had been wondering about it the whole night. Would this be different? Would you want to hold his hand? Was that too much? To say he was overthinking, would be an understatement.

"What's wrong?" He lifted his gaze from his shoes, looking at you as walked next to him. "You look like you've been thinking about something for too long – which is never a good thing when it comes to you." He rolled his eyes at your joke, knocking his shoulder against yours.

"Ha." He let out, sarcastically. He shook his head at your question. "It's nothing, don't worry about it." You frowned, linking your arm through his, tugging on him.

"Tell me!" He looked at you, a smile on his face as he glanced over your features. He looked back in front of him as you two walked.

"It's just – I've been wanting to hold your hand all night. I can't seem to find the... 'right' time, though." He realized how dumb he sounded when he spoke his thoughts out loud. He groaned, stopping in his tracks and throwing his head back. "I sound so pathetic." You laughed lightly, letting go of his arm and letting your hand find his. He pulled it away quickly, wiping them against his jeans. "Don't," he said shyly, "they're sweaty."

"I don't care, Tom." You said reaching for his hand again and intertwining your hands. "I've always wanted to hold your hand." He smiled at you as you two resumed walking toward your apartment.

"Worth the wait?" He teased, causing you to laugh again.

"Definitely worth the wait."

He could remember the first time he held you when you two slept. He had just gotten home from a filming reshoot, they had called him in at close to five in the morning, it was already nearing close to eleven and he was exhausted. But, when you called him asking if you could come over, you not knowing how tired he was, he couldn't say no to you. So, when you came over, harboring a list of things you wanted to do that day because "it was such a nice day out!", and saw him lying on the couch, you frowned.

"Why didn't you just tell me you were tired, baby?" You said, his head resting on your lap by this time, your fingers carding through his hair. He nuzzled further into you, shaking his head against you.

"I wanted to see you – plus, I can't tell you no." You smiled, even though he couldn't see you with his eyes closed. You moved his head to move yourself, laying down as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on top of your chest.

"We can do whatever you want, even if it's just taking a nap," you whispered, not wanting to disrupt his peace, "I like this." He nodded, leaning his head up to kiss your jaw.

"I like this too, darling."

He remembers every hug he's had with you. One time, just a few weeks ago, you had come over to his place, on edge. He knew you had a bad day at school when you totally discarded your books in a completely different room and acted like they didn't exist. Almost every time you came over with books, he'd help you study for at least an hour. When you walked in after leaving your schoolwork somewhere else, and threw yourself on his couch with no other words, he knew there was something wrong.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He'd ask, halfway through the movie. You both were on his couch, watching an obscure movie on TV with his arm around you and you tucked closely to his side. You shook your head, not looking at him. "Are you sure?"

"Tom, I'm okay."

"Are you sure you're okay?" And you don't know why, but you broke down after him asking. You just felt everything that wasn't okay bubble up, and it was like the question was the trigger. He pulled you closer to him, pulling you onto his lap so he was cradling you. One hand was around you while the other soothed down your hair. He cooed in your ear, telling you that it was okay. He didn't know what was wrong – you'd tell him when you felt well enough to – but, he didn't need to know. Not right now. He just wanted to be there. You just wanted him to be there. And he always was.

He hated writing letters – he doesn't remember where it stemmed from. But, when he was out of the country for a whole three months to film for Chaos Walking, and your phone was broken, he had no choice. He had bought basic stationary at a local craft store (actually, he sent begged Harrison to go get it), and he wrote you a letter every week. Hand written, with updates and pictures and just reminders that he loved you. It became a normal thing between you two, even when your phone was working and even when you two were reunited. You'd wake up and find him gone, a note next your pillow with where he went. You'd leave him a note on his bathroom mirror, reminding him that he looked really good today.

It was little things like that – leaving notes, hugging you, being vulnerable with each other and even holding your hand, that made it so easy to be with you, to love you. And he loved you, and if all he got to do in this life was have those small non-sexual intimacies with you – it was all he needed. It was all he wanted.