A C T O R S || OS

107. Tom Holland | Hands *

By : hufflepuffhollander | Tumblr

cw | bff!tom x fem!reader. good ol' friends to lovers! language, fluff, slow burn smut aka my fav kind (oral [fem receiving], choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex). 3.3k words.

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Tom walked into your bedroom to find you lying on your stomach on your bed, typing away on your laptop.

"Hey!" you said without looking up.

"Hi."

"How was traffic on your way here?"

"Fine."

You lifted just your gaze to your best friend, fingers floating paused over the keyboard.

"Uh, you okay?"

Tom looked at you, stewing, like he had something sitting on the tip of his tongue but couldn't quite squeeze the words out.

"y/n, I need to ask you something."

This prompted you to pick your whole head up, frowning slightly and raising an eyebrow. "Okay...?"

He walked over and sat on the edge of your bed. "I know you always like and share my social media posts, and that's always nice," he started, scrunching his eyebrows. "But you never interact with the comments."

You looked at him, genuinely confused. "Tom, spit it out, please?"

"So I was just curious as to why I saw you like a fan's comment on my instagram earlier-" he was purposefully being dramatic, drawing out his syllables. "-obsessing over my hands?"

Uh oh.

"I don't follow," you lied, averting your gaze back to your laptop so he couldn't read your guilty expression.

But he was too good, knew you too well- and reached over, sliding his hands slowly up and over your laptop screen to close it shut, leaving them spread out wide across the top as it laid flat on your bed. His hands looked tanned and calloused, his black watch sticking out in sharp contrast with his skin.

"I think you might." he could see your eyes doing exactly what he wanted, rolling over his sprawled out fingers; you refused to look up at him, biting your bottom lip.

"Just based on the evidence here," Tom continued with a low voice, moving to lean his head in his hands, elbows propped up on your bed, so he was at eye level with you. "It seems like you maybe..." he freed one arm to pick at a fuzz on your blanket, rolling it slowly in between his fingers as he knew you were watching, "...have a thing for my hands, hm?"

You could feel the rush of blood to your cheeks as you slowly brought your gaze to his, trying your best not to cave under his milky brown stare. "Don't flatter yourself, hun, it's just hands in general, nothing personal." But that was a downright lie—his hands did something to you that other people's just didn't. He was your best friend, though, and those were feelings you just couldn't let bubble to the surface.

"I can't believe it's taken me this long to learn that about you."

"Clearly you just don't pay close enough attention."

"But really," Tom looked at you playfully with his eyebrows raised. "Hands? That's what does it for you?"

"What do you want from me?!" you were trying your best not to give away that you'd been so rightfully called out.

He brought his hand up to your face, pressing his thumb to your chin and letting your head rest on the remaining fingers.

"Nothing. I think it's cute." he scrunched his nose at you.