Tom Holland Imagines

Tom Holland ; Planes

credit: https://suit-lady.tumblr.com/post/164090971059/not-my-baby

Planes are boring as all hell, especially when you're stuck on one for more than eleven hours. After all, you could only sleep for so long, you could only read for so long, you could only listen to music quietly for so long. Tom was fucking exhausted, so he slept for nearly ten hours of the flight, but you and Harrison had gotten horrendously bored around hour seven. From then, the two of you had just shared stories over complimentary iced coffees about adventures with Tom together, testing one another's knowledge on his favorite things. You placed bets on how long he'd stay asleep, what mood he'd be in when he got up, and whether or not he'd forget his carry-on on the way out. (Since you sleep with him pretty damn often, you won all the bets. Harrison was quite pressed about this.)

When you left the plane, holding Tom's bookbag that he'd forgotten, you squinted at the early afternoon sunlight. It had been the dead of night the last time you'd been outside. Strange. You followed Tom closely through the terminal, a little afraid of the whole process. While Tom and Harrison were airport veterans, this was only your second time travelling with a celebrity...and nothing can prepare you for crazed fans.

You were expecting a crowd to be waiting, but the number of people that confronted your travelling party shocked you to your core. Eyes darting back and forth, you tried to get a general estimate, but you just knew there was a hundred at the absolute least. Ropes kept them back from getting to you directly, but phones and pens were all being shoved towards Tom with a force that kept your nerves on edge. Is this what it felt like to be on the other side?

Harrison had noticed your spike in nerves, and he put a hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry, (Y/N). This part goes by really fast. Tom's great at this."

Harrison was right; Tom was perfect at these kinds of things. Taking pens from strangers, he signed so many posters and pictures and funko pops that your head was spinning. You took a deep breath. Never, ever, would you want to do something like this. This was way to fucking nerve-wracking for you. No thanks.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, it was over as soon as it had started. You let out the breath you hadn't realized you were holding. Finally, all the pressure was gone, and you could finally get out of the airport. You could breathe again, but your shaking hands were threatening to drop your precious coffee.

"Tom! Tom!" you heard voices shouting behind you.

Before you had a chance to turn and look, you were knocked out of the way and onto your ass. A little group of people seemed to have gotten away from security and followed your posse to get more autographs. As your chest constricted again, you looked down to see your cream shirt covered in your freezing coffee. Nice. Now, you weren't only anxious and upset; you were fucking wet, cold, and miserable. Added bonus, one of your favorite shirts was ruined.

Tom, corralled by the people asking for more autographs, hadn't noticed your fall. Harrison, however, leaned down and extended a hand to you. Picking up you sticky cup and lid with a disgruntled huff, you grabbed Harrison's hand and stood up. He gave you a sad smile as he patted you on the head.

"Hey Tom," Harrison said, pulling Tom's attention away from the crowd for a moment. "(Y/N) and I are heading out."

"Hold on, I'm almost—" he cut himself off when he noticed your soaking wet shirt. "Oh my God." He turned his attention back to the people around him. "Hey, I'm sorry to disappoint, but I'm gonna cut it short, okay?"

Before they could protest, Tom had his arm around your waist and ushered you out of the airport, followed closely by Harrison and the security. Tom was fuming. Looking back at Harrison, you made a worried face. Harrison, eyes wide, made a shrugging motion and shook his head back and forth in an "I don't fucking know".

"Babe," Tom said as soon as you were out of earshot. "I am so fucking sorry that somebody pushed you. Of course, the first time I have my girlfriend with me, they trample you."

"Baby, it's not your fault," you said, leaning into him. "It was an accident."

Tom shook his head. "No, (Y/N). They easily could have moved around you. They were too aggressive today."

"Aren't they always like that?" you asked, a genuine question.

He rolled his eyes slightly. "Sure, I guess. I don't really care if they badger me, but they aren't badgering my baby. Not if I can help it."

"Gross," Harrison commented from behind you, and you both turned, sticking your tongues out at him. He just laughed.

-

That night in the hotel, after you were freshly showered from your coffee disaster and in a pair of your most comfortable sweats, you were cuddling in bed with Tom. The television was on, but you were both scrolling through your phones, not paying the program any attention. The lazy evening was extremely pleasant for you, as it allowed your anxiety to calm down some. At some point, your phone dinged with a notification from Twitter.

Tom Holland: love signing autographs for you guys! Rush today was a bit much though... can we be a little more cautious in the future? Thank you 😜

You looked up at him. "Baby, you didn't need to say anything, really."

"Yes, I did," he said, his arm tightening around you. "Today wasn't okay, and I want everyone to know that."

"What a sweetheart," you said, leaning up for a tender kiss.

One kiss turned into several kisses until a voice sounded from the other bed, "Oi! I can't tell you guys to get a room because we're fucking sharing...so, like, chill please."

You and Tom laughed at him, sharing one more kiss when Harrison looked away. As you looked into Tom's eyes, only one word was present in your mind: lucky. His expression turned soft as he returned your gaze for a long moment. Then, you snuggled closer to each other, whispering soft, sweet "I love you"s, just loud enough for the other to hear.