my favorite tom holland & zendaya imagines

13. Gold Rush (Peter Parker)

by @/styles parker on tumblr 💋

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

"Y/N? You there?" Shit.

You shake your head, letting your head come out of the fog and focus on what Peter is trying to say. He's sitting across from you on your bed, sporting that oh so pretty innocent look on his face that just makes you want to kiss his face all over. He tilts his head at you, grinning shyly.

"I don't think you're listening to me."

"What? Of course I am, you were saying.." you nod your head at him to continue, but he gives you a pointed look.

"Yeah right, I can practically see your head in the clouds right now, which is what you usually do when you start to drift off from me," he laughs softly. You smile, squinting your eyes shut, turning your face away so he doesn't see the light flush growing on your cheeks that you really wish would go away. He scoots a little closer, his knee brushing up against yours as he settles next to you. His hand comes to rest at your knee, and your eyes shoot open at the closeness.

"I'm fine, Peter, really," your voice shakes as you play off a laugh, getting up from off the bed to practically corner yourself on the other side of the room. You let your gaze fall on the rain droplets hitting your window outside, avoiding his confused look as he gazes at you from the bed. From your peripherals, he looks almost sad you got up to get away from him, but how could you tell him it's so you don't get even closer?

When you shift your gaze back a little bit, he's standing next to the bed with almost a starstruck look on his face. He looks like he's looking at something he loves. Immediately it's like alarms go off in your head, making your head pound like it's a warning. Your eyes widen, your mouth curving upwards as you try to play off your sudden actions.

"Don't look at me like that." You say playfully.

"Like what?"

"Like.. like- I don't know, like you love me or something!"

His head tilts again, his mouth curving into a sad smile, "Would that be so bad?"

Your smile falters, muttering a quiet, "I don't know."

He sighs, crossing the room in a couple short strides but still has him not even a foot away from you. His messy brown curls bounced right into place, one strand coming right in front his face, and he doesn't bother to move it away, but it makes you want to pick your hand up and move it to the side for him; let your hand drift over his face and play with his curls like you know he loves.

You press your hands into your eyes, trying to shut out the voice in the back of your head. Why couldn't you just give your heart up to him? It isn't like you think he doesn't reciprocate feelings, you're just ultimately scared of rejection and messing up your friendship. You almost groan, which makes you pick your head up and look straight into his chest. You don't look at him. You can't.

Peter's aware you have a lot of walls built up, but he can't seem to figure out why. He's been your friend for a long while now, and he knows you know he likes you, he just doesn't know why you won't let yourself like him. It's not an ex, he knows that, so looking down at you now as you're even struggling to look him in the eye makes his heart ache. His hand reaches up and ghosts over the side of your face, his fingers gently pushing back a fallen piece of your hair behind your ear and tilting up your chin so he can look at you properly. He watches as your hands reach out to hold him, close around his waist or something, but pouts as you pull back and force them down at your sides.

"Darlin'..." he says in a frisky, but serious manner.

"I... can't allow myself to get this close to you," you whisper, your thumb absentmindedly rubbing against the inside of your pointer finger, making him push his hand forward to cover yours.

"Why not?" he whispers back, his head leaning down further so it's just above yours.

I don't like that our whole friendship could be thrown away over a label change.

"I-I just- ugh, Peter..." you drop your head as you struggle to force the words out of your mouth. If you leaned a little closer you'd rest against his chest, and how he wishes you'd just let him hold you. Do anything.

"What's so bad about me loving you, huh?"

"... Nothing."

"You don't think I see it? The way you look at me like I look at you, or the way you force yourself to step away from me when I can see that that's not what you want to do? Why don't you just let yourself..." he asks softly, his hands hold either side of your face not allowing you to pull away from him.

"I-I don't know," you let your head fall to the side and let his hand hold it up, holding you so gently that it makes you want to cry. He takes this as his chance to step closer to you, letting his chest brush up against yours. You can't help it as your body melts into his embrace.

"You gotta let me in, baby," he soothed, "Let me in, yeah?"

You find yourself nodding against him, giving in to the warm arms that wrap around your frozen body, and the boy who you so desperately want to give your heart to. When your head lifts, your eyes linger on his lips, almost inviting him to indulge in your mind's fantasies. He moves forward so slowly, you almost find yourself rushing forward to kiss him, but he holds back slightly, running a thumb beneath your eye.

"I have to know this is okay."

"It's more than okay."

Neither of you can hold back any more, and suddenly, a rush flows through you and it's like you just stepped out into the windy air and you're about to be blown off your feet. But he's like the anchor who grounds you, keeping you up on your own two feet so you don't get away from him. His mouth is warm and inviting and as sweet as you thought it would be, and kissing him is the best thing you've ever decided to do. When he breaks away from you, getting ready to ask you a question, you beat him to it.

"Just- just let me be the only one who has you, who- who loves you-" you drop your head against his chest, your face flushing as you don't know how to get across what you want to say. It's almost if a golden light is shone down on the two of you, and Peter finally understands.

"You're the only one who will ever have me, don't you worry about that."

You nod shyly, kissing his chest gently as his hand combs through your hair and you settle against him. You hate when your face flushes when he's with you, and you hate the rush it gives you because you know that's just you giving into him. Hating it is better than loving it only when he's not around, because when he is, you'd welcome the rush any day.

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A/N: this imagine just gives me pure joy lolololololimsolonelylololol