Tom Holland Imagines

Christmas special #12: Making gingerbread houses

A/N: I'M BACK! Hope you like this one xx

The next morning you're awakened by the sun shining brightly into your face. You blink irritated. Usually, the sun doesn't wake you up because of the dark curtains in your bedroom. That's when you realize you're still laying on the sofa. And that your head is still on Toms chest. Slowly and carefully you lift it, catching a glance at Tom. He's still fast asleep.

You carefully get up not, trying not to awaken him.

You walk over in the bathroom and splash some water in your face. Considering the fact that you've slept on the couch you indeed had a pretty good sleep.

You go to the kitchen. Tom's still asleep. He doesn't really look very comfortable with his neck bend that weird way but he looks peacefully. Quietly mix some flours and eggs together and everything else you find in your cupboards to make pancakes.

"Well this sounds good", you hear Tom's voice from the living room. You turn around. He's rubbing his eyes, his voice is all deep and sleepy. You really can't handle this boy.

"I'm making pancakes", you say with a smile.

Tom stands up and sits down on a bar stool. You put two pancakes straight from the pan onto a plate in front of him.

"I've got maple syrup, biscoff and blueberries." You get it all out of your fridge and put it on the kitchen isle. Then you put yourself some pancakes on a plate and sit down next to Tom.

"Thanks for these", Tom says, holding up a fork stuffed with all the goodness on it.

"The least I could do. Thank you for yesterday, I already feel much better."

You sit and eat in silent for a while. You really can't believe you both fell asleep on the sofa last night and now having breakfast together.

"You wanna do something fun today?", Tom suddenly asks.

"Hmm depends." You chuckle.

"I think", Tom gets up and puts both your plates in the dishwasher. He leans against the counter. "We should get gingerbread houses and go for a decorating contest."

You look at him with wide eyes. This is literally one of your dream Christmas activities. Never would you have believed that he'd pick that from your list.

"I think we should not spend another second not doing that."

Tom laughs, then grabs his coat. "Let's go then."

So you go. You both walk to the shops in your joggers, beanies on, coats wrapped around you. It's freezing coat but you love it.

When you get to the M&S, you pick up literally every sweet you can get your hands on and two ginger bread house kits. As you put it all down at the cashier you both look at each other in sync and start bursting out laughing.

"We might have gone a little too overboard", you say, gasping for air.

Tom shakes his head, still smiling. "There's no way you can go overboard when you do something you enjoy."

You hold on for a second. He's so right.

You get the control over your body back when Tom hands you one of the backs. You walk back to your apartment and set everything up.

"Okay, I know I suggested this but I only did because you put like a hundred exclamation marks behind his on the list. Which means I don't actually know how this works now."

You can literally feel your own eyes light up as you start to excitedly explain to Tom how it works.

"It's pretty simple. We each have thirty minutes to make the most amazing house, then we let an audience decide, who's is better. Back home it was usually my family. So I don't really know how we do that."

A grin forms on Toms face. He holds up his phone. "I guess we could ask Instagram."

"Uhhh", you smirk. "So this is gonna be a public competition. Well, get it on the Holland."

You grab your piping back.

Tom sets a timer. "Ready, set, GO!"

The music is blasting loudly through your apartment whilst you and Tom race for the best ginger bread house.

Thirty minutes, a whole lotta mess and quiet some stressing later the timer goes off.

"PIPES DOWN", you yell. Tom lets is pipe fall down on the kitchen counter and raises his hands in the air. "If this doesn't win I don't know what does."

Toms is rally colorful. It actually looks incredibly good and fun. You had decided to draw spiderwebs on the roof and only said blue and red candy.

"You made a spider-man house", Tom exclaims as he looks over at yours.

You shrug your shoulders, trying to stay serious. "What can I say, I'm a fan."

Tom shakes his head at you, chuckling. Then he takes a picture of the two houses next to each other. He writes Who wins? On it and posts it on his story. The poll lets the people choose between left and right.

"And I might have chosen to do that one because I think the possibility that your followers will vote for the spider-man house is pretty high."

It's silent for a second, then Tom looks up at you. "That's manipulation."

"I think it's just smart."

"I think", Toms voice changes, "there's consequences with doing something like that."

Your eyes widen, then you run. And Tom's after you. You run around your tiny apartment, trying to get away from him as best as possible. Until you land in the bedroom. You're trapped, you think, the next second Tom catches you, pushes you onto the bed and starts ticking you. Everything happens so quickly that you can't think about it. You gasp for air, laughing hysterically, trying to get him off of you. Finally, you surrender. "Stop, it, please – stop, stop it", you yell.

Then he stops.

You breathe in heavily.

And then you realize he's still on top of you.

His forearms are leaning on the bed right next to your head, his face only inches away from yours. You can feel his breathing on your skin. It tickles you slightly, but in a very different way than before. You look him straight in the eyes. They're beautiful. For a second you forget to breath. You really badly want to kiss him. You want his lips on yours, his hands roaming around your body. You want to dig your hands into his hair and pull him as close as possible.

Then you snap back into reality and Tom jumps up. He looks embarrassed and shy. You slowly get up.
"Shall we take a look at the pol", he asks, pointing to the living room where he left his phone.

"Sure", you say, follow him and shut your bedroom door behind you.