Peter Parker & Tom Holland Imagines

waiting for trouble pt.4

A/N: So the image above is how I picture Guinevere. It's a piece I did when I was just starting to figure out my art style. (Fun fact: I'm also a digital artist! If you're interested, I can share my Instagram. Lol) If you keep reading, you'll see why I decided to include it on this chapter!

"Can you pass me the wrench?" Barley asks, and I mindlessly pass the tool to his outstretched hand. A second later he rolls out from under Guinevere, grease smudged on his cheek and a raised eyebrow. "Okay, spill. What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Why do you ask?"

"Because you passed me a screwdriver." He says as he holds it up. I sigh and pass him the wrench. "You know you can talk to me. Where's your head at?"

"It's just—it's been two months, Bar. I've done literally everything I can except flat out saying, 'hey, Ian. In case it already wasn't obvious, I really like you.'"

"I hate to say it, but my little brother is oblivious to these things."

"You're telling me. I asked him out to go see a band last week, and he suggested I bring you. Sometimes he acts like he thinks I have a crush on you, which no offense, I don't. You're one of my best friends, Bar. How am I supposed to do this?"

"Tell him." He replies, and I lean back against the garage wall with a groan. "I promise, it won't be bad."

"You can't promise that." I pick at my fingernail polish. "In my experience, people don't always act like we expect them to."

"You'll never know if you don't try."

"Don't try what?" Ian calls as he walks up to the garage, backpack still on since he stayed for one of his clubs after school.

My mind goes blank as I try to grasp an answer. All I can think is, "Did he hear our conversation? And dang, he looks cute today."

"That new diner that opened last year." Barley interjects on my behalf, and i shoot him a grateful smile as I try to hide my blush. "I keep telling her to try it, but she doesn't wanna go alone."

"Yeah, and my parents are out of town at an archeology convention until next week."

"Hey, Ian." Barley calls as he pretends to just think of the idea I'm sure he had from the moment he made up the excuse. "Why don't you take Y/N?"

Both of us immediately look at Barley. I don't know about Ian, but mine has a little disbelief laced in it. It fades a little when Ian starts to stutter. "Um, yeah. That is if—um—if you want to."

My palms start getting a little clammy as I nervously smile at him. "Yeah, I'd really like that."

"Cool. I—um—I'm gonna go drop my bag inside, and then we can talk about it while you teach me that spell we talked about?"

"Okay." I grin with a strange wave of giddy, childish excitement. Ian is practically bouncing as he turns and heads back into the house. It takes me a second to process it, and when it does, the dread begins to settle. "Wait, was that—is it supposed to be a date?"

Barley shrugs, and I can feel my head spin as all the blood seems to rush out. The panic I'm feeling starts to drift to him.  "Don't—please, don't freak out." He whispers as he wraps me up in a tight hug until I calm down. "I'll talk to Ian and find out what he thinks. Okay? Like I said, he pretty much never shuts up about you, and I know he likes you too. You've got nothing to worry about."

"Okay." I mumble and watch nervously as Barley heads inside too. A moment later, Ian comes back out, staff in hand. He fidgets with it as he approaches. "So, where do you wanna practice today?"