Tom Holland Imagines

Quacksons

"TOM! Tom! Stop!" you yelled as your best friend Tom Holland was doing his best to help you make croissants from scratch. It was a very difficult recipe, and if one slight measurement was off. . . POOF the whole batch would be ruined. "Tom. Stop, that's too much," you then grabbed his wrist to stop him from pouring the amount of yeast, that was way too much, into the bowl of croissant batter.

He winced at your actions. You had no intentions of hurting him you just didn't want the batch to be ruined. "I'm sorry, Tommy." You released your grip on his wrist. "I really just don't want them to be ruined." You then realized he wasn't paying attention. It took you a bit to realize he was wearing AirPods, with extremely loud music. "Ugh, Tom. Listen," you took the one from his left ear out -as you were on his left side.

"What?" he questioned. You just rolled your eyes as he gave you a devilish smirk.

"I'm sorry if I hurt you-"

"You did." he interrupted.

"I'm not done you div." You said lightly smacking him with a towel the was resting on the counter in front of you. "Look, I'm sorry. I just didn't want the croissants to be ruined. This is a very precise recipe and if one measurement is ever so slightly off. . . the whole entire batch would be ruined. And you were about to put in way too much yeast." You then took a deep breath then turning to the bowl deciding to do the measurements on your own.

"Ruined?" He asked but you knew he knew the answer. You nodded in agreement. "That'd be terrible."

"Mhm. Especially since I was making them for you." You mumbled hoping he didn't catch what you said. But he did.

"What was that, y/n?" He asked though he knew what you'd said.

"Hmm?" You hummed hoping he'd brush it off. But he didn't.

"What did you just say?" His smirk grew with every passing second that you didn't answer.

"Nothing. I didn't say anything." you were now regretting saying it in the first place.

"Yes. . . you did." He began to move closer to you and that intimidated you.

"No. I didn't-" You turned around hastily only to be mere centimetres away from him. His eyes, dark brown. They stared deep into your soul, the most intimidating eyes you'd ever looked into. His smile, crooked. He was smirking devilishly, which made you uncomfortable. But, for some odd reason, you liked it.

After staring into his endless dark eyes you finally spoke softly, "I was making them for you, Tom. Because I know how much you love them and," you stopped. Not daring to say the next words for fear you might lose your entire friendship, in only seconds from the cause of the words you'd longed to say to him for so many years.

"And. . ." he dared. That devilish smile never leaving his face.

"And, I. Um, I, love you." You whispered scared of what he'd say next.

Nothing. He said absolutely nothing. For at least 3 minutes, there was nothing but silence.

You stood there, mere centimetres apart, not daring to look at him. However, after those 3 minutes of one of the most awkward silences you'd ever experienced, you finally looked up at him. He was already looking at you though. And as soon as you did so you regretted it. You hated being intimidated. And all his eyes ever did were intimidate you. He probably wasn't meaning to, but, he did.

"You love me?" He questioned and there was no longer the devilish smirk on his face. He spoke quietly and carefully.

You nodded slowly and there was another minute of silence before you felt his soft lips gently move with yours. The feeling was more wonderful than you could've ever imagined and, to be honest, you had imagined it quite a bit.

Once he pulled away he spoke the words you'd always wanted to hear roll off his tongue. "I love you too, y/n." You smiled and he didn't hesitate to kiss you again. This time your hands moving through the curls in his hair and his arms wrapped around your waist.

"I love you so much, Thomas." You said lovingly after pulling away from his kiss, your hands still playing with his hair and his arms still wrapped around you.

"I love you too, y/f/m/n (your first and middle name). Let's finish these croissants shall we?" He said.

"Say it again!" You giggled.

"Say what?" He asked clearly confused.

"You know what." You said knowing he knew exactly what you meant. And he did.

"Fine. . . Quacksons. . ." He dragged after rolling his eyes dramatically. You giggled and he poked your stomach making you laugh even harder.

"Stop. Tom. We have to. Finish. The quacksons." You teased between laughs. He stopped. But only because he wanted you to finish the croissants.

"Alright, Love. But only so you can finish these." He said pulling you into a hug.

"These what. . ?" You teased backing out of his hug.

"No!" He shouted playfully. You just laughed and went to finish the croissants.

While in your mind trying to decide if this were all a dream you'd wake up from at any moment. But every time you turned to look at him, he was still there, smiling at you. You knew this had to be real and you couldn't ask for anyone better than Tom.