Tom Holland & Peter Parker Imagines

3. A Not-So-Crappy Day

a/n: Okay I haven't updated in forever, I know and Im sorry, also crappy (heh) title, sorry about that too. Enjoy this imagine!

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Tom Holland x reader

Info: you and Tom don't know each other, and your horrible day is made better after you meet him. Also, he's not famous in this, just a regular citizen.

Warnings: language

y/f/c = your favourite colour

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(first person POV)

I slammed the door of my house, putting my shoes on properly while also trying to move forward, which had me doing a weird hopping action. I hurriedly put my backpack on my shoulders as I ran down the street, cursing my clock in my head. I woke up late this morning, thanks to a certain alarm that didn't go off at the right time, resulting in me being late for a job interview. 

The cold London air nipped at my face and bare skin, making me shiver slightly. But I didn't have time to worry about that. I was late for the best job interview of my life. Which may or may not be one of the only ones, but that's besides the point.

I finally reached the building, double-checking the address. I straightened my clothes and fixed my hair slightly, taking a deep breath and opening the doors and entering. I was in awe of the interior, but I didn't have time to admire it- I ran to the reception and asked them where the interview room was. She took her sweet time, opening the book and slowly checking the names, before finally pointing me in the right direction. I quickly thanked her and darted off to the room she told me to go to, and after a minute or two of searching, I finally found the room (guys I have no clue how interviews work don't kill me, i'm fourteen) and knocked on the door. 

"Enter," a voice from inside said. I opened the door and walked into the room, seeing a middle-aged man sitting behind the large wooden desk. His dark skin was complimented by the light grey suit he was wearing, his hair slicked back. 

"Sit. Your name is Y/n Y/l/n, is that correct?" he asked as I took a seat.

"Yes," I replied. In the time that he looked over some papers and shuffled them around slightly, I tried my best to summon all the confidence I had and sat up straighter, trying to show that I was professional. I don't know how well that worked, but, oh well. 

"It is 1:55. Are you aware that your interview started 10 minutes ago?" he asked curtly. I gulped slightly.

"Y-yes, but I couldn't find the building and the room, the receptionist was a bit slow in telling me which room to go to," I replied, with his cold glare on me. I wasn't really lying, I just didn't tell him the entire truth. I mean, what would I have said, 'I overslept because of my alarm'? I had to appear professional. I sighed. These thoughts are getting nowhere, so I tried to stop thinking about all this and instead focus on the kind of questions he was going to ask.

"Ms. Y/l/n, we cannot hire people who are not punctual, you understand that right? You not finding the location of the interview is not our fault, you should have thought of that ahead of time," he snapped. 

"I- I understand sir, I apologise. But I promise, it won't happen again," I reassured.

"That won't be an issue, because there won't be an 'again'. I'm afraid we can't hire you, Ms. Y/l/n," he said, looking back to his computer. I sat there, confused.

"B-but sir, you haven't even interviewed me yet?" I said, although it came out more like a question than a statement.

"I am aware of that fact," he snapped, "but upon closer inspection of your application and your lack of punctuality, you do not qualify for this job. Now, I'm going to have to ask you to leave the premises."