tom holland oneshots

late flights

After waking up at four A.M. for your flight, you and Tom had learned it would be delayed for a few hours. It was out of your controls, but that didn't mean you couldn't be frustrated. You were stuck in a swarming airport with an A-list celebrity; it was only a matter of time before they mobbed you. You had already been followed by the paparazzi on the way here, you couldn't handle anything else this early.

By the time the clock struck six o'clock, more fans had started piling the airport. It seemed as though airport security could not care less about your entire ordeal, so you and Tom were stuck hiding out in a family bathroom until your flight was scheduled to take off.

It had been sixteen hours since then, and you hadn't showered in almost a day. You felt icky and exhausted, wanting to get off the plane and directly home once the aircraft landed.

Of course, you couldn't.

Tom, being the gentleman he is, left you alone to pick up the baggage so he could be with the fans for a little longer. You didn't mind at first, thinking if he went now, the two of you could leave once you finished grabbing the suitcases.

You were wrong, however, because as Tom was taking pictures and signing posters, you were stuck in the middle of about twenty paparazzis, begging for details and secrets regarding Tom and his career.

You groaned — internally, of course — and forced a polite smile towards the men surrounding you. You could handle this many cameras and people and pictures shoved in your face — on a good day. This, however, wasn't a good day. You were irritated before you even got on the plane; you couldn't deal with this right now.

Excusing yourself through the crowd, you left the luggage with Marty, a body guard working for the airport, and made your way over to Tom. You had to lean in close just so he could hear you, but you spoke in a whisper, not wanting to startle him.

"Can we get going?"

He turned his head with another smile, nodding his head before whispering back, "Just a few more minutes."

A few more minutes turned into fifteen, and you had texted Harry to park somewhere close. He complied of course, and you made your way over to Tom one last time just to tell him you were leaving.

You abandoned him before he could reply, Marty following you to the exit and fighting off quite a few paps. He quickly situated the luggage into the back, and you thanked him with a twenty, sliding into the passenger seat next to the younger Holland.

"Hey Y/N-" he paused just as he was about to switch gears from park to drive. "Where's Tom?"

You sighed, still slightly annoyed. "Inside."

"Doing..?"

"He's been with the fans for the past thirty minutes, what do you think?"

You felt sorry for snapping at him, but he nodded, smiling softly as though to say "I understand." It was comforting, knowing he had been in your position before. The person that was always accompanying Tom, the person that was neglected because they weren't the celebrity in Hollywood. It was comforting to know that you weren't the only one being neglected, and not just by the fans.

Harry rolled down your car window, the one closest to Marty.

"Hey, man!" Harry hollered over the loud sounds of cars, airplanes and screaming fans. "Can you get Tom? We've got to leave now. Tell him it's Harry!"

Marty nodded silently, undoing a button on his suit before gliding through the glass doors and directly into the crowd. He had a gun, not that he would ever use it.

You sat in the running car listening to Harry's playlist, for ten minutes. Tom finally got in the backseat, but by this point, you were fuming. Harry could tell, too — he'd tried to make things easy for you, but it's not like he could fix his brother's oblivious state.

The car ride home was filled with tension, and unbearably so. You didn't bother helping with the luggage, either. Tom hadn't helped you in the airport, and you sure as hell didn't want to stand around in the cold London air when you could be taking a warm bath or a refreshing shower.

Stepping inside, you nearly slammed your keys into the bowl, unwrapping your scarf from your neck just as Tom set the luggage down.

"Love?" He took another step, removing his gloves. "What's wrong?'

"You! You're what's wrong!"

Harrison and Tuwaine smiled politely, awkward in whatever situation had just walked through the door.

"What do you mean?"

Hanging your coat up, you walked into the kitchen for a quick glass of tea before you planned to shower. "I mean, you took nearly forty minutes signing shit, Tom! Do you realize what time it is?"

"It's late, I know-"

"No, Tom," you spoke sternly. You suspected everyone was listening with how quiet the house was. "You don't know. We're over five hours late. You left me alone in baggage claim- I- I had to eat breakfast in a fucking bathroom, for Christ's sake!"

"That's not my fault," He defended himself.

"I never said it was! I am saying today has been a shitty day! You taking the extra time with your fans just happened to tie the knot!"
"It wasn't even that long."

You scoffed, slamming your mug down onto the kitchen counter.

"I have been awake for over twenty hours. I'm not having this conversation if you can't see how ridiculously long this entire day was."

You left the kitchen, sending a rough "Hi," to the boys before making your way upstairs, footsteps harsh on the hardwood floor.

"Y/N!" Tom yelled, making his way to you again.

"What, Tom?" You were nearly crying at how frustrating today was. All you wanted to do was take a bath and go to sleep. Get some fucking rest in your own bed without people you didn't even know, swarming you. "What?"

He breathed out heavily. "I'm- I'm sorry. I didn't realize how exhausting today was for you."

"Yeah well, it was. I don't have the energy to fight or be mad so if you don't want to deal with this right now then you can sleep on the couch or something."

"No- no I-" he chuckled, rubbing his forehead. "Look, I'm sorry. That's what I was trying to say." You looked up at him, pausing before nodding. "Let me help you- you're tired and probably want to shower before you sleep."

"Yeah, I do," you were still speaking harshly, and Tom stepped forward, inviting you into his embrace. You accepted the invitation, falling into his chest and hugging him tightly, because no matter how infuriating this boy was, you knew you needed him.