Tom Holland-Peter Parker Imagines

"I need you."

It was a quiet Friday night, and instead of going out, I had decided to stay home. An episode of Friends played in the background while I painted my toenails.

I had just finished when a knock sounded at the door. I sighed, and hobbled over to the door, unlocking it and pulling it open. It was more surreal than anything...seeing him standing there.

His hair disheveled, his hoodie rumpled, his eyes bloodshot and red. I could have sworn we both just stared at each other for a good minute, not saying anything. I had every right to slam the door in his face, but instead I just stood there. Frozen in place.

My movements were frozen, but my thoughts weren't. My mind was swirling with memories. Being in his arms. Waking up on his chest. Kissing him. Cuddling him. Hugging him. Feeling him.

He was my everything for an entire year. It was only a week ago, that I stopped crying myself to sleep over him. That I finally stopped wearing his hoodie every night. That I stopped obsessing over him, every minute of every day, asking myself what I did wrong. Why I wasn't good enough.

I hadn't heard from him since he walked out. Since he shattered my heart in a million pieces. I couldn't even explain what went wrong in our relationship. It went from everything being happy, everything being good; perfect. To everything being bad, everything going wrong.

Suddenly, we were fighting all the time, over things I couldn't even remember. Suddenly, I never saw him. He was always working long hours. And he'd get home feeling completely exhausted.

I never stopped loving him...nor would I ever. So, when did he stop loving me? He let out a shaky breath, pulling me from my thoughts. My grip on the door handle tightened slightly, and I genuinely thought I might slam it shut before he could say anything.

But before I could make that decision, he stepped towards me and crashed into me with a breathtaking hug. His scent was overbearing, and gave me so much nostalgia  that it brought tears to my eyes.

Still, my arms remained at my sides...not holding him back like I so wanted to. Like I wanted to for months. I wanted nothing more than to be in his arms. For the longest time, he was the one I turned to for comfort. When I was feeling sad, or broken. It was his arms I fell into.

But I couldn't very well turn to him for comfort when he was the one who caused the unending pain in my life. It almost made me mad, that after all this time, when I was finally feeling better, he came back.

Because what was going to happen? Was he going to hug me and leave again? Would this even change anything? What did this even mean? After all those girls I saw attached to his lips...did he finally miss me? Or was he just here for something familiar?

I pushed him off of me, and he stumbled back a few steps. I didn't like his expression. How hurt it looked, how sad. I stared at his chest instead.

"Why?" I managed, hating how weak and broken I sounded.

"If I tell you, you're going to hit me." He said. I sighed, my eyes slowly drifting up to his brown ones.

"Tell me why, or leave." I said, my tone wavering. He ran a hand through his hair, and I wanted to slap him just for that. Just for drawing my attention to his perfect curls. The same ones I used to drag my fingers through. "Why now?"

"I miss you." He blurted, making the air leave my lungs. "I'm tired of kissing strangers and pretending they're you, alright?"

"No, not alright." I said. "You broke up with me."

"I made a mistake." He said, making me take an actual step back.

"W-What?" I faltered, the tears quick to well up in my eyes.

"I regret it." He sighed. "And you can hate me for putting you through this shit...or you can forgive me."

"What would that do?" I asked, confused.

"Well, for starters...I could kiss you." He shrugged. I shot him a glare.

"Don't do that." I warned.

"I want you back." He said, pleadingly.

"How do I know this isn't just one of your weak moments?" I asked. "How do I know you aren't just going to walk out of my life again?"

"You don't." He said. "You just have to trust me."

"I trusted you before, Tom." I said. "And you broke me."

"I know." He whispered.

"Do you know?" I argued. "Cause you seemed pretty fucking fine last time I checked."

"When was the last time you checked?" He asked. "Three months ago? The last time I even kissed someone else?"

"I don't understand where this is coming from." I said, bringing both hands to my hair. "You had moved on. Haz said you were with other girls."

"I was trying to forget about you." He said.

"Why?" I asked. "Why couldn't you just love me like I love you?"

"I do love you, that's kinda the whole point of why I'm here." He remarked.

"Couldn't you have come to this conclusion five months ago?" I exclaimed. "Why'd you have to break up with me at all?"

"I don't know." He admitted.

"You don't know." I repeated. He shook his head. "When did you stop loving me?"

"I didn't." He said.

"Yes you did." I argued. "When?" His expression was quick to change to one of irritation and anger.

"I never stopped fucking loving you." He snapped. "It just took me being apart from you to realize that I couldn't live without you, Y/n."

"I need you." His voice was weak, and he turned away from me, making me wonder if he was fighting back tears like I was.

"I was miserable." I said, quietly. "You caused that." He swiveled around again, and I noticed a tear sliding down his cheek.

"Let me fix it." He pleaded, taking a hesitant step towards me.

"I don't know..." I trailed, unsure. Could I trust him again? How would I know the answer to that unless I gave him another try? Did he deserve another chance?

"Please?" He whispered, grabbing my hands and squeezing them tightly. His eyes searched through mine. Part of me wanted to say no. Wanted him to suffer as badly as I did. Wanted to move on from that chapter of my life.

But the bigger part of me was gravitating towards him. It was telling me he suffered just as bad as I did, why make it worse? It was telling me to give him another chance. My heart was beating for him, just like it always had.

"Okay." I said, softly.

"Okay?" He repeated, taking another step closer. I nodded, a small but firm smile on my lips. "Okay." He said.

"You can kiss me now. I think I've waited long enough." I informed, making him chuckle.

"There's the wit. God, I've missed that." He said.

"I think you've got the point across." I teased.

"No, I don't think I'll ever be able to express how sorry I am for hurting you when I promised I never would." He said, his expression serious. I frowned, my face scrunching up.

"I might reconsider if you make me cry, and I don't even get a kiss." I said, my voice slightly shaky.

"Okay, I'm sorry." He chuckled, pulling me closer. He pressed his lips into mine, lightly at first. But as time went on, he deepened it, kicking the door closed behind us as he backed me further into my apartment. He finally broke off, pressing his forehead into mine.

"I love you." He whispered. I curled my arms around his neck, holding him close. "I've missed you so much."

"Yeah?" I taunted. "Prove it." He smirked, before lifting me up, my legs wrapping around his waist.

"Oh, I will." He muttered.