tom holland imagines

august

a/n: based off  of august by taylor swift. i hope y'all like it!

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Music played over your speaker as you stood in front of the mirror, applying one last layer of lipgloss to your lips. Maybe it was overkill, but you wanted to look good. There wasn't a whole lot of time left until everyone had to go home, with summer coming to a close soon, and you wanted to savor every moment that you could, especially your time with Tom. You'd be lying to yourself if you said this wasn't anything more than a summer fling, but it was what you had to tell yourself. Before you could let the thoughts ruin your evening before it even started, your phone buzzed.

Seconds later, without even giving you a chance to glance at the message you'd received, the sound of a car horn blared from outside, practically shaking the house, the windows rattling in their frames. This was Tom's way of letting you know that he was here. Everybody in your house hated it, especially your dad, but you secretly loved it. You couldn't help but giggle, shaking your head as you picked up your bag and gave yourself one last look-over in the mirror. Smoothing out your outfit, you decided you looked acceptable and bounced out the door, calling out a goodbye to your family just before the front door slammed behind you.

There at the curb, in his stupid convertible, was Tom. The top was down, of course, his favorite pair of sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose as the soft breeze blew through his pretty curls. He somehow always managed to look beautiful all the goddamn time, which just wasn't fair. Not to mention, the accent killed you. His family was from England — they were only visiting for the summer, staying in the same small beach-side town as you by happenstance. His accent, in particular, made you melt, with the way he said your name, or whatever cute pet name he'd decided to call you that day. Speaking of...

"Hey, sweetheart!" he called out as you crossed the front yard, flashing you his perfect smile.

Sliding into the passenger seat, you blushed slightly at the nickname, ducking your head so he wouldn't see, "Hi, Tom."

Without saying anything else, Tom leaned over, brushing your hair back to cup your cheek and lift your chin as he pressed a kiss to your lips. He knew how to leave you speechless every single time, and gave you that cheeky grin he had as he shifted the car back into drive, "Ya ready?"

"'M ready," was all you could mumble out before Tom took off. You had no idea what the plan was, but you were okay with that. Tom was good at planning things for you to do, and he somehow always managed to surprise you.

Being in the convertible with Tom made you feel like you were flying. The first time you got in the car with him was terrifying. He liked to go on drives along the oceanside, going as fast as was safe, with the top down. Eventually — once you realized that Tom was responsible — you also began to realize the fun in it. The way the salty ocean air whipped around your face and through your hair made you feel free, and when you lifted your arms above your head, you were in the clouds. As cliché as it seemed, you understood why people always did it in the movies. It was liberating.

Tom always laughed when your hands flew into the air; even though it was cheesy, it made him happy to see you happy, and in those moments, all you felt was joy. He always reached over, placing a gentle hand on your thigh, as if maybe the wind would catch you one of these times and pull you out of the car and out of his grasp. And he just couldn't let that happen. This was just a summer fling. Really. That's all it was. But that didn't mean that he didn't want to enjoy every last moment with you, especially as the summer days were melting away one by one.

It hadn't taken long for the two of you to become glued to each other. You met early in the summer, when you'd quite literally bumped into each other, and nearly every day since then had been spent together. Even on the days that you didn't explicitly have plans with Tom, you found yourself canceling plans with your friends, or purposely not making any, just in case he'd call you to go on another adventure with him. It didn't matter what the adventure was, because you knew that whatever the two of you did, you would have a good time. As long as you were with Tom, it didn't matter.