Tom Holland Imagines

Tom Holland: First Date

I nervously look at myself in the mirror, still wrapped in my bath robe, wet hair hanging over my shoulders. Tonight is my first date with Tom, and he's picking me up at 7:30. It's 6:30, and I have no idea what I'm going to wear. Or how to style my hair. Or my makeup. All I know is I can NOT screw this up. Biting my lip, I cock my head to the side, then walk over to my closet. 

Shoving things back and forth, my eyes finally fall on a white sweater with long sleeves and a high collar. I grab it, along with some high-waisted jeans, and change into the outfit. I take a glance in the mirror and decide it's good enough. I walk quickly into my bathroom and blow dry my hair, then loosely curl it. I check the time on my phone. 7:15. 

Crap!

I quickly put on foundation, eyeshadow, eyeliner, and mascara, then brush my teeth. Moving at practically lightning speed, I run back to my room, put on a pair of light brown ankle boots, grab  a necklace from my vanity, and rush down the stairs. I shove a pack of mints into my purse, along with some chapstick (you never know how this date could go!) and check the clock on my phone again. 7:25. 

Just five more minutes.

I sit down on a soft chair in the entry of my home and try to busy myself so I'm not so anxious. Nothing really helps though. My knee bounces up and down as I scroll through social media on my phone when I hear a car pull into the driveway. I stand up and step into the small bathroom, checking everything to make sure I look okay. That's when I hear a soft knock on the door. I smile excitedly, then compose myself. Walking quickly to the door, I try to slow my breathing. I pause. Then I open the door.

And there he is. The most gorgeous man I've ever seen. 

He smiles and I feel butterflies. My eyes lock with his dark, sweet ones. I smile back.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," I reply. 

"You look great," He compliments me, and I feel heat rush to my cheeks.

"You don't look so bad yourself," I tease, taking in his appearance. He's wearing black jeans and a long sleeved grey shirt, sleeves pulled up to his elbows. 

"Gee, thanks," he says with a light laugh. "You ready to go?" 

"Yeah, just one second," I say, turning to grab my purse and my keys. We step out onto the porch and I lock the door, and he guides me to his parked car. He walks me to the passenger side and goes to open the door just to find that it's locked. He curses under his breath.

"Hang on," he says, then walks around to the driver's side to unlock my door. Once it's unlocked I reach for the handle, only to jump when I'm interrupted.

"Don't! Don't touch it," he laughs, then walks back to the passenger side and opens the door for me. My face flushes from embarrassment.

"Thank you," I say as he helps me into the car.

"Of course."

***

"So, where did you say we're going?" I ask. We've been in the car for a while. Not that I'm complaining, we've gotten to talk a lot and get to know each other pretty well.

"You'll see," he says, smirking, and I roll my eyes. Eventually we pull into the parking lot of a small and casual, but nice, restaurant. Tom walks around to my door and takes my hand to help me out of the car, then we walk inside. He doesn't let go of my hand. 

"Hello, I have a reservation for Tom Holland," he tells the hostess at the door. She smiles, grabs two menus, and asks us to follow her. She guides us to a table toward the back near a small dance floor. We sit down. I look around and it's a lot nicer than I originally thought. The hostess walks away from the table.

"I suddenly feel very underdressed," I admit, smiling at Tom.

"Nah, don't worry about it. It looks a lot classier than it actually is," he reassures me with a smile in return. A waiter comes to our table and we order our drinks and our food. 

"So, y/n, I haven't properly thanked you for coming with me tonight," Tom says, an adorable grin on his face. 

"I haven't thanked you, either, Tom, so...thank you," I reply, smiling back.

"Thank you," he says back, looking directly into my eyes. We don't break eye contact for a little bit, and when we finally do, I smile bashfully and look down into my lap. 

Our food comes a short while later, and dinner is full of a lot of teasing and flirting and laughing. At some point a small, live band takes their place on the dance floor. I'm in the middle of talking to Tom about my studies when the band starts playing "Fly Me To the Moon" by Frank Sinatra. Tom's face brightens when he hears the song, and he reaches for my hand on the table.

"Y/n, would you like to dance?" He asks excitedly. I'm nervous, but how can anyone say no to that face?

"I-I can't dance, but sure," I say, smiling nervously. He stands and pulls me up with him, smiling reassuringly.

"Don't worry, it's easy," he says, and guides me to the dance floor. Once there, he places my left hand on his shoulder, takes my right hand in his, and places his right hand on my side. He pulls me a little closer and starts rocking back and forth to the beat. "I've got to be honest, I don't really know what I'm doing either, but this feels about right," he admits, and I laugh. As the song continues, he twirls me around, we laugh with each other, and I'm a little sad when the song finally does end. Tom takes my hand and guides me back to the table. We sit back down, big smiles on each of our faces. We finish eating, Tom pays the bill, and we walk back to his car, hand in hand. This time he makes sure the door is unlocked before attempting to open it for me. As he opens the door, he kisses my hand and helps me into the car.

"Such a gentleman," I say flirtatiously, and he rolls his eyes, smiling. He walks around to the driver's side, starts the car, and pulls out of the parking lot. I hum contently once we're on the road, and I can see him look at me out of the corner of my eye. I look back at him and he quickly looks away, but he's smiling. He reaches over to grab my hand out of my lap, and I let him take it. 

***

We make it back to my house, and he walks me up to the door, holding my hand once again.

"Tom, I had a lovely time. Thank you so much," I gush, smiling, and he smiles back.

"I had a great time too, y/n, I look forward to doing this again," he says, and I grin.

"I'd like that," I say. "And, thank you, for being such a gentleman," I tease him again.

"Well, if I'm going to keep up on being a gentleman, I should probably do this," he says, then leans in and kisses my cheek softly. "Goodnight, y/n," he says, a light blush touching his cheeks.

"Goodnight, Tom," I reply, knowing my face is redder than a tomato. He smiles, then walks back to his car. I turn to the door and unlock it, then turn around to look at him again. He's doing the same as me. We both smile, and I wave at him before walking inside. I close the door behind me and lean on it, unable to wipe the stupid smile off of my face, and touch my cheek, right where he kissed it. I hum lightly again, then walk up the stairs to my room. 

I've got it bad.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

There it is! My first imagine. Please vote/comment and let me know what you think! I'm accepting requests so please send any ideas you have my way. :)