Peter Parker/Tom Holland Imagines {REQUESTS CLOSED}

HOCO - PP

That shirt tho😱

Yooooo it's ~officially~ autumn so if you guys have any like fall/Halloween requests just send em my way!

Okay, so I guess it was my school's HOCO Saturday? Or at least according to their website so like, here's to it😂

Your fingers trailed the soft fabric of your dress that hung on your door, the baby blue chiffon feeling like Heaven beneath your touch. You stared at it, letting out a soft chuckle. HOCO was going to be a joke. Nobody really went after freshman year, nor did they wear actual dresses (all rumours I've heard). But Peter had jokingly said the two of you should go one day, as you were curled up on the couch doing homework.

After all, this is how it all started. Your freshman year, you had remembered how nervous you'd felt, standing there in your white crop top and jeans, huddled in a group with your closest friends. Every so often, you looked up, locking eyes with Peter, who stood on the opposite side of the gym floor from you. He stood with his friend, who you now know and love to be Ned. It was really Ned who got you two together in the first place, practically shoving Peter over towards you.

"Hey, uh, I wondered if, you maybe, would like to d-dance with me?"

"Not really dancing music," you smiled, hearing Counting Stars blast loudly through the speakers. "But yeah, that'd be fun."

You separated from your group, joining the large clump of teenagers in a halo around the DJ. Just as you opened your mouth, the song changed. Fancy came on, and you laughed, starting to sing along.

You and Peter danced to the song, and you broke down in giggles midway through. His dancing was... horrific. An awkward fist pump here and there, or better yet, the robot. His face flushed bright red, and you pulled the guy that you'd been secretly crushing on for the first few weeks of school in for a hug.

"I'm sorry," you gasped for breath, "I'm being so mean, you really are a great dance y'know."

"I mean, I know my dancing sucked," he huffed and you froze, worried you'd severely upset the boy. "But you don't hafta lie to me too," he chuckled, and you smiled, glad you hadn't hurt him.

Now three years later, you stood in front of your floor length mirror, pulling the dress on over yourself. The zip in the back did up perfectly, and you grinned at your reflection. The dress hugged your waist in an obvious way, a little "diamond" belt going around it, before flowing into a skirt that fell just below your knees, and puffed up into a huge circle when you spun.

You'd gone for the minimalistic look in terms of makeup. Foundation, concealer, a little bit of lipstick, making your lips perfectly coloured, and mascara to top it all off.

Curls of h/c hair danced around your head in ringlets, hanging down to your back, as you ran over to get your white pumps. Wiggling your toes into them, you gave yourself one more chuckle at how silly this whole rigmarole was just for homecoming.

Grabbing your clutch back off the desk, you opened your door, heading downstairs to the kitchen. Peter was already there, a napkin for a bib, eating a bowl of cereal.

You cocked your head to the side in question.

"I was hungry," he shrugged sheepishly, finishing off the bowl. He removed the napkin from the collar of his shirt, and took his tie off the counter, draping it across his neck. Walking over, Peter picked up your hands in his, and tugged you closer.

A smile grew on his face, and he looked you straight in the eye. "Happy Homecoming."

"Mhmm you too," you whispered, pecking his nose.