Tom Holland & Peter Parker Imagines

Affliction | T.H

affliction 1. a cause of pain or harm.

Summary: Everyone has insecurities but some are worse then others- some are enough to ruin relationships.

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: Angst and possible toxic relationship.

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Things were sick and they were twisted and they were more screwed up than you ever thought you'd be able to imagine. Maybe there was more to blame than yourself and your stupid insecurities, maybe the universe had something against you and wanted you to feel pain for something you'd done in the past, like tripping that boy in third grade or stealing your younger siblings Halloween candy in the eighth.

But why did you deserve this? From the stabbing pains that impaled your chest like a knife- the sharpest knife at that, one that didn't hesitate to break skin over, and over, and over until you were coughing up the last three years of your life, every 'I love you' and 'you're the only one I see.' coming back up it painful heaves. It was feeling your breathing get caught in the back of your throat because the sight of him talking to someone prettier- better, was waves endlessly lapping over you. With every attempted gasp came another touch then came another wave.

You had felt each of your heartstrings break one by one. With every small glance. Every smile that caused creases to form beneath his eyes and pearly whites to show lighting up even the darkest nightclub you heard a dull, mental 'Snap.' But why? Because he'd done nothing, he hadn't cheated nor was he going too. No, he'd reassured you of that time after time so why did you feel absolutely shattered?

He had stood on the other side of the room, drink in one hand and phone in the other. Tom always liked to keep his hands busy, it prevented him from tapping his fingers or playing with his hair. He bopped his head to the music and you cracked a small smile considering he looked like a dork- your dork, not hers. His head buzzed, alcohol galloping through his veins.

Maybe your insecurities arose because three years ago you were the girl in the middle of the nightclub, anxiously toying with the hem of your dress. Except three years ago your black dress was stained, alcohol dripping down the front sticking to your bare skin. You reacked, even in a nightclub the pungent smell scared off anyone within five meters. But not him. Tom stared red-faced and wide-eyed as he apologized profusely, paper towel in hand as he tried to dab you dry without making you uncomfortable. It would've been hard to do that, considering you were two shots away from being classed as straight up smashed.

Tom was itching to get away-, itching to instead grab your hand and make it to the dance floor where he could only think about dancing the night away to whatever song was slipping through the speakers. The bright, flashing lights turned your already flushed cheeks a deep blue. Blue like a hydrangea, but the prettiest of the lot, or blue like the sky on a partially cloudy day. With a hazy mind he giggled, remembering the red lipstick you'd swiped on before you left for the club, but from the stool and the blue lights the red was merely nonexistent and in his tipsy state he felt that you looked like a smurf.

He'd previously adored the way you squeezed your eyes shut if they struck you at the wrong time, nose wrinkling in dissatisfaction but at the same time your chest was erupting from absolute joy. You'd giggle when you opened them again, head fuzzy and while you weren't sure of a lot, you were sure of the fact that you were totally in love with the boy that held you in his arms like you were the only thing in that big, dark room that mattered. While you were Already close to his chest, Tom would pull you closer if even possible, his body heat only adding to the fact that a thin layer of sweat was forming on your skin. But then again, that was then, this was now.