tom holland oneshots

workouts and warmth T.H.

request: hello darling, can I request Tom tired after gym and he just want to get in bed and cuddle with you please 🥺

—

Sweaty and exhausted, Tom closes the car door. His session with George had been rough; they'd started new reps and worked on a few different areas, contrary to his old routine. His hair was almost damp from the workout, sweat hanging off of every inch of his skin. He closed the car door, locking the Audi as he dragged himself and his duffel bag into the house.

It smelled like a home. He loved home, loved returning to you and your comfort. He loved the accessibility of anything he wanted, whenever he needed it. Setting his keys into the designated bowl, they clinked as he took his shoes off. He abandoned the duffel bag and took the stairs two at a time — a bad idea for his sore legs. Dragging himself into the bedroom, he noticed you were still asleep, and he grabbed a change of clothes before deciding to take a shower.

He used your body wash. The two of you shower together whenever you have the chance, but his work robs him of those intimate moments, and he's stuck using your soaps to at least remind him of what it's like to have your presence there.

He nearly falls asleep while he gets dressed. He throws his towel on the rack rather carelessly, emerging from the steamy bathroom to find you sitting up against the headboard, the covers dragged onto your lap while you gaze at your phone.

"Hey, baby. How was the workout?" You smile as he makes his way over to you. He's dragging his feet lazily, wanting to rest as soon as possible. It's a Sunday, and usually he stays home or brings you to a golfing session, but he needed to train for an upcoming movie, which meant his body was time sensitive.

"Absolutely awful," He dropped onto the mattress, head coming into your lap while you let out a small "oof."
"That bad?"

He hummed in response. "Just wanna cuddle." His warm, lanky fingers clutch your loose sleeping shirt while he nuzzles further into your lap. He's mumbling into the skin of your thigh, and you nearly giggle at the brunette.

"Don't you want breakfast?"

"We can have brunch later. Just wanna lay here."

You nod even though he can't see your face, and slide back down under the covers, Tom laying atop you. Fingertips running through his freshly washed curls, you close your eyes and breathe in the undeniable scent of Tom. His arms hug you close while his head lays on your chest. He's breathing deeply but slowly, and you know he'll fall asleep soon.

"You smell good."

You laugh at his comment, hands still continuing their movements through his soft strands. There's something about the way he longs for you and your touch that makes you melt. Something about the way he could want you so badly even in a room full of people. Even in a room full of people, he'd still feel lonely if you weren't there. There's something about the way he loves you that makes you want to stay in this moment forever, basking in his radiant glow, absorbing his love and ricocheting it back. Something about the way his life is completely intertwined with yours makes you giddy with joy, peppy in the step and weak in the knees.

"Well you're very warm."

He hums, arms hugging you just a little tighter. There's something about the way he holds you that makes you realize he's never going to let go, physically or emotionally. There's something about the way he looks at you, with his daring eyes, his deep orbs, that make you see all the possible outcomes of the future.

There isn't a single outcome where the two of you aren't together. At least, in his mind there isn't. There's no future he could imagine where you aren't there by his side.

As you're pulled impossibly closer to his bare chest, you feel his fingertips nudging your sleeping shirt up. He wants to feel your skin, your warmth and your silkiness. He wants it right under his fingertips, wants you right at his touch. He kisses the skin around your collarbone, finding your sweet spot easily. It's messy and tired, the way he kisses you, but it's passionate and real. You know he wants nothing out of them, but you also know they're not meaningless. Nothing he ever does for you is meaningless.

Your hands drift down to his shoulder blades, massaging the sore muscles while he moans out in pleasure at the comforting feeling. You smile softly, kissing his head while your hands work like magic.

"God, you're a dream."

You're not sure how to reply to the confession. He always calls you an angel, any chance he could mention it really. But here, in this moment, you feel like the one who's blessed. You feel blessed even though he's merely hugging you close out of tiredness and neediness. You feel blessed when Tom is doing nothing but loving you the way he has for months.

But loving you for months is so much more than anything anyone has ever done for you, to you, and because of you.