GRIND | Tom Holland x Reader

part 4

warning: this story will contain mature content such as language, drugs, and sexy, smutty scenes. nsfw 18+ pls!

After that one shot, you were in the zone.

You weren't much of a heavy drinker, but when you did have a decent amount of alcohol in your system, you turned into a socialite.

You were loud, would pull out all the dance moves you couldn't do sober, and were just willing to try anything. Ryan didn't like you drinking so much, which, again, you didn't do often anyway. He would say that he "doesn't like seeing you sick" but you knew that he just didn't want to deal with drunk you afterwards.

Despite that you were there for him when he was super fucked up.

Every time.

But in this moment, you were happy. Maybe it was just because you were under the influence, but you felt like you were thriving.

Thriving so much, you didn't even notice your two best friends leave together, without you.

Eventually everyone started to call it a night, filing out of the club, leaving Tom to step in on your night.

"Ready to go, love?" Tom asked, before you started pouring another shot for you and him.

"Let's do one more!" You exclaimed, picking up your own glass.

Tom grabbed the shot out of you hand.

"Hey!" You yelled "What the fuck??"

Tom put the shot down on the table before grabbing your hand. "It's time to leave now."

"Okay, fine," you agreed.

He led you a few feet away from the table before breaking away from him, turning in the opposite direction and scurrying back to the table. You started to drink the liquid, unable to feel burn of the alcohol in your mouth.

The glass was taken from your hand, Tom's voice was present again. "Okay, I think you've had enough now."

He chuckled at your pouty face, grabbing your arm to bring you in front of him. "'M not letting you out of my sight now, love."

He started to walk you out of the club, practically carrying you as you dragged your feet.

"You're no fun," you slurred.

"And you're belligerent," Tom laughed. "We're gonna get you home."

"No, we should–whoaaaa," you voiced as you stumbled slightly, ending up on the asphalt.

"y/n!" Tom exclaimed, thinking you had hurt yourself.

But you just started laughing hysterically, unable to get up on your own.

"I'm-I'm sorry," you continued to giggle. "I'm kinda clums-hehehe."

Another fit of giggles came out as Tom lifted you off the ground, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you into his side.

"I'm sorry, Tom," you apologized as you calmed down and he finally got you to the passenger seat of the car.

"No worries, love. At least you had a good time!" He beamed as you shifted in your seat. "Can you buckle yourself?"

You nodded and he shut the door as you pulled the seat belt around your front. He got into the driver's seat and began to exit the lot of the club.

"D-Did you have a good time?" You stammered, your words feeling like they were coming out slowly upon feeling the depressive effects of the alcohol.