Peter Parker/Tom Holland Imagines {REQUESTS CLOSED}

Drunk - TH

Y'ALL LOOK AT THOSE ARMS😱😱😱 I'm shooketh. Wig. Snatched. Like holy hot shit. I can't I'm broken.

I've just always wanted to make a drunk imagine, so here we go! And just to let you know, I've never really been drunk😉. Only like... tipsy. But to be fair, it was when I was in Germany, so completely legal. Just I don't know that much about... well, drunk people.

And I know that we've seen videos of Drunk Tommo before, but let's pretend he had waaaaay more to drink.

Word count: 1230

It was a remarkable feat, being able to help your fully intoxicated husband through the door. He relied heavily on your shoulder, hugging your frame, pulling you closer to be ground.

"You-you haffa lego of me... I... I haff a wife, and-and she's gonna get me from you, and and she'll be angry," Tom slurred, drooling slightly on your shirt, as the two of you stumbled through the hallway.

"Yup, umhm, she's gonna come get you. You just have to take a nice cold shower, and drink a lot of water, and then you're gonna go sleep. And when you wake up, she's gonna be right there. Okay Tom?" You asked him, trying to power through to the bathroom. He nodded against your shoulder, his messy hair ruffling up from the friction.

When you finally got there, you sat him down on the edge of the bath. "You gonna be alright there?" You chuckled, as he slouched over, eyes fluttering shut. You watched your husband of five months slowly fall backwards, and you rushed to his aide. "Okaaaaaay," you said, pulling on his large biceps. "I'm just gonna turn the shower on, can you manage by yourself, or do you need a hand?" You stood him up on his feet, turning the water on cold.

"I'm married you can't do tha," he complained, not answering your question, but instead holding your wrists as you tried to strip his shirt off. "Stoppit, I dunno you."

"Uh huh." You nodded, "Boy did you drink a lot tonight," you chuckled, undoing the clasp on his belt.

"Nooooo," he whined, lazily trying to hold belt. "You can't do this... I told you, I haff a wife...  Y/n... and she's gonna be mad at you. I'm not gonna haff sex with you."

You burst out laughing, "Woah there buddy, I just want you to take a shower, I never said I wanted to have sex with you. Not when you could throw up on me at any second. Especially when you can't even remember my name." You sighed, kneeling down to take off his shoes, discarding them next to his tee shirt in the corner. Reaching up, you yanked down the waistband of his jeans. Unthreading his legs from the pants, you felt two hands unite with your head.

"Y/n when did you get here? There wassa crazy girl here and she-she tried to undress me but I said that I was married," he said proudly, grinning down at you.

"Aw I'm proud of you babe. Now c'mon you have to get in the shower." You shook your head at him, laughing lightly. He was really drunk. You were only at the club for an hour and a half, and you could've sworn he only had a few beers. You had seen an old friend, and stopped to go say high. One minute turned into fifteen, and when you got back, countless empty shot glasses were on the counter, your young husband staring up at you with a goofy smile on his face.

"Nooo, it's cold Y/n." Tom moaned as you led him into the shower, once fully undressed. "I need your help," he said naughtily, holding your hands, gently leading you in."

"No, Tom, no no no no. If you can stand by yourself then you're fine." Tom merely pouted back at you, but stood under the flow of icy water.

When he was all refreshed, you pulled him out, wrapping him in a large fuzzy towel. "Look at you babe, all cleaned up." After turning off the water, you led him out to the bedroom. Dressing him in sweats and an old shirt, you brought Tom into the kitchen.