peter parker/tom holland imagines

we are okay | p.p.

and the worst part? he couldn't. and he wasn't sure he'd ever be able to again. peter begged you silently to not leave. to hold him in your arms instead, for you to whisper sweet nothings to him, and for you to kiss him. for you to just know. to just understand, and that way, it would be so much easier. he wouldn't have to worry about putting words together and making them sound literate, because you would just know.

but you didn't.

and back to square one, he didn't know how to tell you. back to square one, stuck in something more painful than his own webs. back to square one, heartbroken again.

so peter looked back down at the floor, hoping that it would just swallow him up and it'd all be over. he had his spider-man suit under, and the extra layer of clothes he had on top were certainly not helping the sudden heat.

"say something," you urged, "say something to make me stay. tell me you love me, and that you care about us, what we are- or what we were. o-or say that i'm important to you, that you don't want me to go, because if you don't, i'm leaving... and... i'm- i'm not coming back. but get one thing straight, i. am. not. leaving. without. an. answer. i don't care what you say, but you have to say something," you felt so pathetic and stupid as you stood there, right in the middle of his room, waiting for him to say something that would define the fate of your relationship with him. because, utimately, he was the deciding factor.

you knew you wanted this, because peter parker, you'd decided, was the most important this to you. he was above everyone else, including yourself. and if a boy was that important you, but you meant nothing to him, then really, you were pathetic.

he racked his brain, trying to find something to say that would mend everything, make it all better. but in that moment, there was nothing.

"i'm-" he started, trying to string together words as he went along, "i'm, um, i can- explain," peter was crying too now, tears rolling down his soft skin.

and the, with what had to be the worst timing, he felt the hairs on his neck and arms raise, "i- i have to go!"

"yeah, you- wait, what? are you fucking kidding me? right now? gods, peter-"

"i'msosorrywecantalkwhenigetbackandifyoudon'twannastayyoucanletyourselfouti'msosorryiloveyoubutthisisurgent," peter said, barfing out a pool of incoherent words.

and then he left you all alone in his apartment.

so you stood there for a bit, shocked. you walked over to his desk, part of you not wanting to leave. this felt like the only way you could be close to him. after all, you did promise to not leave without an answer, and you owed it to yourself to at least be that petty. taking a seat in his rolling chair, you buried you face into your hands.

no, you weren't the most popular girl in school, not the prettiest, and definitely incomparable to liz, but you weren't eric with glasses who tried to flirt with everyone and instead give them secondhand embarrassment. the kid tried out for swim team... and by some fate of god, he got in.

you sniffled.

maybe if i was prettier, or curvier, or confident. then peter would like me more, right? because who wants to ditch someone like that? he'd never do that to liz. should i have grown out my hair? i'm not skinny enough. i should be skinnier. if i'm skinny, he'll stay.

you dropped your head down onto the table with a thunk. you winced in pain as it hit something hard. sniffling once more and tilting your head slightly you glanced down onto the table. the first thing you noticed were blueprints. many, many blueprints. the were all blue and had the same thing in the bottom corner, the emblem of stark industries.