tom holland imagines

like you wanna be loved

"Love, have you seen—" you paused as you walked into the bedroom, seeing Tom standing in front of the mirror, looking at himself.

The sound of your voice scared him, and he jumped a bit, scrambling to back away from the mirror. Turning to face you, he gave you a half-hearted smile, "What's up, darling?"

"Oh, it's nothing. Is everything okay?" you asked, noticing the way his smile didn't quite reach his eyes like it normally did.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, I'm okay," he nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you moved closer to him. Truth be told, though, he really wasn't feeling so great. He'd been working out a lot more lately, as he felt like he wasn't nearly as fit as some of his costars in one of his new movies, but he felt like al ofl the time he was spending in the gym wasn't paying off.

His abs weren't as defined as he wanted them to be, he was super aware of the way his stomach looked when he wasn't flexing, he felt like there was nothing to show for when it came to his arms, no matter how often he lifted weights. Everything just felt... bad.

And you could tell. The look you saw in his eyes was one you were all too familiar with, when looking at your own body. Feelings of shame, disappointment, and just generally being self conscious. When you were feeling that way, Tom always did his best to make you feel loved, so you decided you'd do the same.

Later that night, as the two of you got ready for bed, you snuck up behind him as he brushed his teeth. One of your palms slid across his torso, the other up and across his chest as you pulled his body into yours from behind. You felt him tense up for a moment before he relaxed, sinking back into your arms. It was silent as he brushed his teeth, your cheek pressed into the warm skin of his shoulder.

When he was finished he let out a soft hum, his hand moving to rest over the arm that was laying across his stomach, "What's this for?"

"Can't I just love on my boyfriend?" you asked with a playful huff, moving your face so your chin was resting on his shoulder, eyes meeting his in the mirror.

He cracked a small smile, "I suppose I'll allow it."

You pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, "You know I think you're the prettiest person I've ever seen in my life, right?"

Tom chuckled, rolling his eyes as he turned to press a kiss back to your temple, "Even prettier than Harry Styles?"

"Oh, one hundred percent, bub."

"Pft, don't lie to me, darling," he remarked with a laugh, twisting in your arms so he could press a kiss to your lips, "C'mon, let's go to bed."

He pulled back, heading back into the bedroom before you could really reply. Quickly going after him, you caught up with enough time to playfully smack his butt just before he got into bed, "Hey!"

Giggling, you crawled into bed with him, sliding under the covers, "See?! How do you like it? I can't help that my beautiful boyfriend has such a nice ass!" You were directly quoting something he'd said to you in the same circumstance time and time again.

"Yeah, yeah," he couldn't help but laugh as you did, reaching out to pull you in closer.

You let him pull you in, laying your head on his chest, one of your legs slipping between his. Placing your hand against the soft skin of his chest, you tilted your head up to look at him, voice gentle, "Hey. I meant it, you know."

"Meant what?" he asked in confusion, looking down at you.

Reaching a hand up, you brushed a few of his curls out of his face, running your fingers back through his hair, "I love you. Everything about you. And I really do think you're the prettiest person I've ever seen. I can't believe you're mine."