Tom Holland and Peter Parker Imagines

Tom Holland/Wasted

Hey guys. I'm so sorry that this is the first thing I've posted in a long time, but with my college shit pretty much sorted out and senior year winding down, I've been writing a lot lately and I hope to have more things coming out soon.

Hope everything and everyone is going well!

This is inspired by All My Friends by Snakehips ft. Tinashe and Chance The Rapper.

I've become obsessed with this song ^^ and I just love it so much that I had to write something about it. Sorry if all this seems so down in the dumps ya know, but this song is lit as shit. You can't deny it. This is Tom's view by the way...

Enjoy this!!!

***

The sharp bite of the tequila caused me to wince as I downed my fourth shot, squeezing my eyes tightly and gasping quickly for a piece of soothing air.

"Fuck, dude," Harrison commented. I looked at him loosely and grinned suggestively, beginning to feel the affects of the rich liquor. "How many have you had?"

"Don't worry about it, darling. Papa's gonna be just fine," Harrison eyed me obscurely and carried on with his conversation with some random girl he'd met a few instances ago. I ran my fingers along the rough pattern on the sofa I was sitting on within the dimly lit club Harrison insisted on bringing me to.

People crowded the dance floor, bodies swaying and rubbing in all directions on and offbeat. Brightly-colored lights painted the walls and the deep bass in the music vibrated the floors, sending odd waves through my chest. I ran my hand through my curled hair and took deep breaths to focus my thinking to my best ability.

"Another," I signaled to a worker nearby, causing them to run off to fulfill my order.

I hate this club. It brings repetitive and destructive actions every time I step back in, but I was still brought to this shithole and I still indulged in its' sins.

"Here you go, Mr. Holland." The worker obediently handed me my fifth shot and I nodded in response, prompting me to throw back the glass and allow for my throat to be burned in satisfaction once again.

What the worker didn't know was that I was suffocating myself to ignore my troubles, downing the powerful liquid not so much for my health, but in a subtle request for ruin. It took everything in me to not go back to where I came from, that forbidden love that had burned me many times before. So, in my mind, it was better to be burned momentarily than to have my spirit get crushed when I remembered that the relationship would never progress anywhere.

Preparing to raise my unsteady hand for another dose of the antidote to feelings, I felt a firm hold on my bicep pull my arm down.

"Tom, I think you've had enough. Are you trying to get hammered?" Harrison questioned me, looking for the eye contact I refused to return.

"What do you think? Hmm?" I jerked out of his grip and stood abruptly, only to stumble about woozily. "I fuck everything up, Harrison, and this is the only way I can forget. I just can't get her out of my head." I harshly slapped the side of my head, hoping to knock out the dangerous thoughts.

People standing nearby stared curiously to see what the English drunkard was yelling about, earning a rude 'the fuck are you looking at?' as I stormed off onto the dance floor and toward the club doors. I could hear Haz yelling after me, but the drink in me decided to go to where my demons wanted me most.

The lights' contrast with the dark sky attracted my uncontrollably wandering eyes and my feet skipped off rhythm down the familiar streets.

"Hey, taxi, wait!" I managed to call out and slurred the directions once climbing in the car.

***

"Tom, what are you doing here? Tom, wh- are you drunk?" Her lips looked so soft and delicate as her tongue quickly ran across the bottom to hydrate the slightly cracked skin. I couldn't tell if the heat touching my chilled skin radiated from her or the house behind her, but all I knew was that I wanted nothing more than to have her body on mine.

"Have you been drinking?" She demanded again, noticing my eyes walking over her frame and causing her to cross her arms around the front of her body. When she knew that I was beyond answering her question, she added, "What do you want, Tom?

What the hell did I want? A question of that caliber was tough to answer because I didn't know what time it was, damn sure why I was there and what I wanted from her. It should be clear that it was over. The sneaky fling we had ended mutually, as we called it. But, laying in bed alone, jacking myself off, and reminiscing over ancient memories triggered everything for me.

"If you're not going to say anything, then you might as well leave." The door began to shut in my face, but I extended my rigid arm to hold it open.

"Babe, I... I-I hate that club. I hate it. It reminds me of you and that's why I hate it. I'm supposed to be over you and over this and here I am, eyes black and red, crawling back to you. I drink too much." I felt intoxicated tears threaten to gather in my eyes, "Another fucking Friday I've wasted on drinking. I want to blame it on you, but I can't find it in myself to not come back to you. You make me drunk."

"Tom, I-"

"Why can't we try, huh? Darling, I want you so bad. I need you. Please, just let me in. I'm crawling back to your bed." I was begging, but I couldn't care less. Nights like these were made for regrets to be realized and it was time to acknowledge that my pride, ego, or whatever the fuck was going on needed to be set aside for me to get what I truly wanted.

Her eyes searched mine for the answer, as if I could help her decide what to do.

"Let's get you some water," she said, widening the door and inviting me in the warmth.