Tom Holland Imagines

Skinny

⚠️TW Eating Disorder⚠️

I looked at my self in the mirror. Twisting my body to try and find the best angle. Find an angle that I actually liked. It wasn't happening. Every time I looked at my self there was something wrong. My arse not fat enough. Waist not small enough. Boobs not the right size. Hips not big enough. I fucking hated my figure. 

Tom always told me that he loved my body. He loved the way I looked. I didn't believe him anymore. I mean why did he want to be with me when I looked like this. Have you seen his co-stars. They're so much better than me in every way. 

It started slow. I didn't realise it was happening at first. Telling myself I wasn't hungry. That I didn't need to eat. And when I did and bloated I felt crap about myself. Mentally scolding myself that I ate. 

And when I weighed myself. Seeing the tiniest bit of difference. That that smallest bit of weight I had dropped. It was intoxicating. Like something I was doing was working. That it'd improve my figure. That I'd finally be happy with myself. However with every bit of weight that fell off. The more I wanted off. The more that had to come off. Leading me to tell Tom that I'd already eaten. That I wasn't hungry whenever he came home. 

However hiding it became harder and harder. When we went on dates I had to always find an alternative to going to a restaurant. But it was getting tougher to avoid. Tom and I were sat on the sofa watching a film together. 

'Y/N there's this cast thing Roberts holding for the end of shooting. Are you coming?' 

'Is it a party?' 

'No just a meal at a restaurant.' 

Fuck as soon as I heard restaurant my anxiety started to build up. Eating in front of people. That filled my body up with dread. 

'Erm... yeah... sure I'll come.' 

'Are you sure darling? If you don't feel up to it you don't have to come.' 

'No Tom its fine,' I forced a smile. 

I knew I couldn't avoid public situations like this forever. It'd just be hard to face. I was getting ready for our night out and I was looking through my wardrobe for an outfit. I'd decided against a dress. I felt as if the ones I owned showed off my body in a way didn't like. Showing too much skin. Instead I'd decided on a pink top that had puffed sleeves and a pair of black jeans. 

I put on the jeans and breathed a sigh of relief when they didn't completely fit. That they were a little bit looser than the last time I tried them on. I was happy I'd finally lost a bit more weight. I was slowly getting thinner. Tom walked into the bedroom looking smart in his trousers, black t-shirt and jacket. 

'You look nice Tommy,' I smiled at him. He looked me up and down and gently smiled at me. 

'You look beautiful darling,' he smiled placing a soft kiss to my lips. He looked me up and down once more. 'Darling have you lost weight again?' 

'Erm yeah might've done,' I brushed off his question. 

Wanting to avoid the subject. He just nodded his head at me. But I could see the worry in his eyes. 

We were walking down the street to the restaurant that Robert had booked. The only issue was the paparazzi. Taking photos of us as we walked. The bright lights of their cameras blinding us. Something I would never get used to. Tom laced his fingers with mine holding my hand tighter as we continued to walk ignoring the photographers. I wasn't so much worried about the invasion of our privacy. But more worried about how the photos would look. They always took the most unflattering pictures. Capturing my body at the worst angles possible. Then the tabloids taking this pictures and spreading them every where possible. Making me hate the way I looked even more. 

We gotten to the restaurant finally escaping the paparazzi. The entire night felt like it was dragging. I liked Tom's co-workers. I got on great with everyone. Just the thought of having to eat in front of these people was stressing me out. I had just decided to have a salad for my dinner. It wouldn't make me bloated afterward. I forced the food down myself. Not to let on to everyone else around that I didn't want to eat. Only later during the meal to go and throw it back up. I knew it was unhealthy. I knew I shouldn't do it. But I couldn't stop myself. Every part of me wanted to get over this stupid habit. But I just couldn't. After an agonising amount of time at the restaurant Tom and I made our home. 

I went to lay on our bed and stare and the ceiling. Tears started to roll down my face. I felt a dip in the bed besides me. Tom next to me staring at the ceiling. He took my hand in his and squeezed it. 

'Darling please talk to me.' 

'About what Tom.' 

'Please. I can tell somethings going on.' I sat up and wiped the tears from my face. 

'Nothing's going on Tom. I'm fine.' 

He sat up next to me. Shifting his body so that it was facing mine. His eyes looked at me broken. 

'Y/N you're perfect the way you are. Please feel no less then that.' Silent tears started to roll down my face and I nodded at him. 

'Y/N everything I'm about to say is about to come from a place of love for you and nothing else. I've noticed the unhealthy amount of weight that you've dropped. How I can see the outline of all your ribs. How you disappear every time you eat a meal.' 

My head dropped when he was talking tears now streaming down my face. Tom hooked his fingers around my chin making me look at him again. 

'Y/N you are beautiful just the way you are. You don't need to do this.' 

'I do Tom,' I shook my head crying. 

He pulled me into his chest. Wrapping his arms around me as I cried. 

'I'm just not good enough. The way I look. I hate it. If I just... if I just loose the weight then I might finally be happy,' I cried harder. 

Tom held me whilst I cried. I kept my arms wrapped around Tom even when I had finished crying. 

'Darling you have to know that what you're doing isn't healthy.' 

'I know Tom,' I nodded my head. 'But it's the only thing that works.' 

I left go of him. I hadn't realised but whilst I had cried so had he. His face had been stained by tears. He held my hands in his. Holding them as tight as he could. 

'Y/N will you consider getting help. You can't go on the way you are. You're going to end up in hospital darling.' 

I gulped. I knew he was right. However admitting that I needed help felt like a breaking point. That it was admitting defeat. However it was time to admit defeat. That this was a battle with my body I couldn't fight alone. I nodded my head at him. 

'I'll try Tommy.' 

Months had passed since I had started going to therapy. I was resistant to the idea at first. However I was doing this for Tom. That was until I realised I was also doing it for myself. I had to get healthy again. Recovery was slow. But I was getting better. I was eating. Not a lot. The thing is I realised I was never going to be perfect. Not with the media surrounding me. But I had to remind myself that Tom loved me. And if he loved me that was enough. I didn't need the validation of anyone else. 

A/N: This imagine took me quite a while to write. I was never completely happy with it. But personally I feel this is an important topic. One I've struggled with myself. You just have to remember that everyone's body is different and you should love the skin you're in.