Tom Holland Imagines

Peter Parker ; Have You Ever Been in Love?

"Another daisy from your neighbor's garden? Whatever do I do to deserve such a romantic gesture from the one and only Peter Parker, anyway?"

This had been a weekly occurrence for the past four months. Peter would bring you a daisy, your favorite flower, from his neighbor's backyard garden. The neighbor willingly cut Peter a flower for his best friend ever since the first time he saw Peter trying to steal one instead of just asking. Peter had confided in his neighbor, Mr. Calhoun, that he had embarrassingly (and unsuccessfully) tried to confess his feelings for you. Peter had eventually discovered that his nerves would never side with him on this – there was no way he'd ever be able to verbally communicate his new-found feelings for you without passing out.

"Peter?" He shook his head, clearing his mind before looking at you. You raised your eyebrows at him, shooting him a questioning look. "Are you okay?" He simply smiled at you, nodding his head. "Okay," you said, not entirely believing him. "Are we still on for movies at mine tonight?"

"Yes! Of course, it's a date!" As soon as the word left his mouth he inwardly cringed, him already feeling the faint tint on his cheeks as they burned under her gaze. "I mean – I uh, I just meant," he shook his head and avoided your gaze as he searched for any other wording. He looked up when he heard your light laugh.

"It's a date, Parker." And with that you walked toward your last class of the day, not noticing the lingering gaze Peter casted your way, only diverting his attention when he heard the final bell ring.

Okay, so in Peter's defense, falling in love with you was completely inevitable. You knew everything about him, and you knew it without him even needing to tell you. His biggest secret, the secret he kept from everyone to protect them, came out of you so casually one day when you were eating lunch at your guys' favorite pizza parlor.

"So, how often do you go out as Spider-Man? Is it a nightly thing?" He remembers how much water he needed to drink in order to calm his choking.

You were just always there for him – his hand to hold, his date to the dance (even thought he knew you could go with anyone, you always settled for him) ("Peter, I'm not settling! I wanted to come with you!" "(Y/N), stop trying to make me feel better and come dance with me.") You were his favorite good morning and his most beautiful goodnight.

"Peter? What is up with you today?"

He found himself shaking his head again, clearing his thoughts of you like he had been trying to do all day. "What?" You frowned at him slightly. "I'm sorry – no, really, that was the last time. What were you saying?"

You sighed before shaking your head, "never mind. It's your turn to ask me a truth or dare."

"Oh, okay. Truth or dare?" You pretended to think before nodding your head.

"Truth!"

"Have you ever been in love?" He tried to ignore the painful beating in his chest and how clammy his hands had gotten as he waited for you to answer.

"Hm, I don't think so. What is love anyway?"

"Whatever you want it to be, I guess." He tried to hide his disappointment, his heartrate slowing as his heard the girl he was in love with didn't love him back – and never had.

"No, yeah I get that. But, what does that mean? I don't know, love has always just been some so – what's the word? Manufactured?"

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know, it seems materialistic – like it was created to sell what you're supposed to feel. Love feels marketed to me." You shrugged and looked at him.