tom holland imagines

the sweater

Breathless laughter against each other's lips filled the dimly lit cabin as you stumbled inside, the door closing with a slam behind you. Feet catching on the rug as you walked backwards, Tom moved quickly to catch you, bracing you as the two of you fell onto the couch just inside. His hands landed on either side of your head, your legs instantly wrapping around his waist to pull his body down against yours. All you wanted was to feel him against you, his skin on yours, and he was more than happy to give you what you wanted.

"Is this better?" You asked between each kiss he let linger on your lips.

"Almost."

His fingers pressed delicately on your stomach, just below the hem of your shirt. The touch on your skin was hot, as if his fingerprints were burning into your skin, and you almost wished they were so you would have a reminder leftover of all the places he had been. Ever so slowly, his fingers slid underneath your shirt, pushing the hem of it up your torso, his lips relocating themselves to your neck, kissing the spot he knew would make you let out his favorite sound.

"How 'bout now?" You smile, running your fingers through his short curls as he kisses across your chest.

He laughed quietly, curls tickling your collarbones as he kissed you there, mumbling against your skin, "Not quite." Before you could say anything else, he slipped your shirt over your head, tossing it to the ground.

Grabbing onto the fabric of the orange sweater, trying to tug it up his torso, you manage to mumble out between kisses, "Tommy, take this ugly sweater off."

An over-dramatic and playful gasp escapes his lips as he pulls away from you at your statement, eyebrows furrowing together, making you want to reach up and try to smooth out his always-unruly eyebrow, "What do you mean?! It's not ugly!"

You scoff, still tugging at the fabric, desperate to rid him of his clothing, "It is too! Take the damn thing off."

"It's not!" he argues, and while you know he's joking, you can also see the hint of seriousness behind his eyes, a small pout starting to form on his lips, "It's comfy, and I-"

Giggling, you shake your head. As much as you love the stupidity and playfulness in your relationship, you're not sure you can wait much longer to feel his skin against yours, "Alright, alright! It's beautiful, but it belongs on the ground."

This time, as your hands pull at the fabric, he lets you tug it over his head and it finds a place on the patterned rug near your shirt. You teased him about it sure, but you actually loved it. Because he looked extra warm and the vibrant color made his skin practically glow without any real light source.

You rested your palms on his chest as he sat up between your legs which he was now lifting to wrap around his waist. His hands spread on the back of your thighs as you wrapped yours around his neck, playing with the tiny curls there and holding on tight enough so he could lift you up, and he did it so effortlessly. All he wanted was to get you to the bedroom, to show you how much he loved you, but you were making it difficult with the way you were kissing his jaw and neck, fingers gently tugging at his curls the way he loved.

If it'd been difficult to make it to the couch earlier, it was going to be quite the feat to make it to the bedroom. Tom nearly stumbled a few times, tripping over the already-discarded items of clothing on the floor, causing you to gasp and giggle nervously, clutching onto your boyfriend and desperately hoping that he wouldn't drop you. But finally, you made it safely to the bedroom, where he sat you down on the bed as gently as he could, as if you were made of the finest porcelain.

"Lay back, love." He places a hand on your shoulder, coaxing you back until you were positioned in the middle of the sheets.

You waited so patiently, just watching him as his hands traveled the curves of your body. He wanted to take it slow, too. Knew that tomorrow meant you had to leave but for now, all he knew was you. He knew your face; your beautiful eyes that were staring up at him, willing and waiting and your smile, the pull of your lips as his fingers found a sensitive spot. He knew your body; your stomach that he absolutely loved leaving a trail of kisses across, and your thighs, the way he fit perfectly between them.

Tom leaned down, pressing his lips against your leg as his fingers got stuck under the fabric of your underwear. He started pulling them down and you lifted your hips to help him, growing more impatient by the second. "These..." He tossed them behind him, giving you his signature smirk. "Belong on the floor." You couldn't help but giggle as he let them go with a dramatic flair, but it was quickly cut short with a gasp as his lips pressed to the skin of your leg once more.

As much as you wanted him to do something, to do anything, you couldn't help but stare down at him. He was ethereal, looking like a sculpted god with his tanned skin and perfect brunette curls. Sometimes you didn't understand how someone so perfect could exist and how you somehow got to call him yours.

You kept watching, eyes sparking with love and lust as he kissed up your leg to the inside of your thigh and then farther up across your stomach.

"Alright, I love you. So much. But you're gonna have to move this along." At first, you really were fine with taking the night slow, hoping to make it last just a little bit longer but now, as the softness of his fingertips brushed along every inch of your skin, you were growing more impatient by the second. You could already feel it in your stomach, the knot becoming almost unbearable as the vibration from his laughter lingered on your chest.

"Whatever you want, beautiful," he whispered, finally relaxing his hips between your legs and finding your lips in the darkness, fitting together perfectly just like you always did.

— —

Tom woke up hours later, blindly reaching out for you only to find that you were gone. Your side of the bed was cold and missing your warmth. Letting out a groan, Tom opened his eyes and forced himself to sit up. It took a few seconds of blinking and yawning before he could get out of bed and find a pair of boxers to tug on. He knew you couldn't have gone far, but he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep again without you in bed next to him. So he wandered down the dark hallway, following the light coming from the kitchen as he did his best not to stumble, still half-awake. When he found you, you were standing with your back facing him, leaning against the counter with a glass of water pressed to your bottom lip. But it was the sweater - his sweater - that made the image of you standing there even more beautiful. The fabric was loose on your body, coming down to the middle of your thighs and only pulling up as you took another sip. Your hair was a mess from being asleep but you looked effortlessly beautiful and he couldn't help but stop and stare.

"Enjoying the view, Holland?" You turned and smirked, watching as he fell to rest against the doorframe with soft eyes that traveled down to where the article of clothing stopped.

"I am actually, yeah," he quipped back, pushing off the wall to stand behind you, taking you into his arms so that your back was pressed to his chest. His arms wound to the front of your stomach and his cheeky grin kissed your neck, distracting you from the way that his hands were inching slowly under the sweater.

"Looks much better on you." His breath on your skin gives you chills as you lean your head back against his shoulder.

"Yeah?" you breathe out, turning around in his grasp and allowing his hands to spread across the back of your thighs, lifting you onto the counter, "What're you gonna do about it, baby?"

Humming softly, a smirk tugged at the corner of Tom's lips as he situated himself between your thighs - his favorite place to be - and leaned in, lips ghosting up your cheekbone and stopping near your ear to whisper, "Think I have a few ideas."

Wrapping yourself around him once more, arms slung around his shoulders and legs tightly around his hips, you sighed in content as his lips pressed to the spot on your neck that he knew would make you sing, "Care to share, Tommy?" He nodded into another kiss, only now he was lifting you into his arms so he could easily carry you back to the bedroom, ready to pick up where you had left off only a few hours ago.