tom holland imagines

4. We Don't Have to Drink to Have a Good Time (fluff)

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I lifted my solo cup over my head as I carefully wavered through the crowd, swaying my body as if it'd help me get by faster. Parties weren't really my thing, so I imagined myself looking like an idiot as I awkwardly wiggled passed people's grinding bodies.

An elbow nearly jabbed into my face, but I was quick to lean out of the way before it hit me. "Woah, watch it, Colin Davis."

The guy turned his head and gave me a confused look, saying something that I couldn't catch because of the blaring music in the background.

"He's a, uh, conductor, you know," I began, assuming he asked who he was. Someone to my left bumped into me, making me stagger to the right and spill some of my soda. "Ah, shit." I looked back up at the guy to see that we was slowly steering away from me, acting as if I were never here.

Well, now I knew he wasn't interested in conductors. God, who would be was at this party?

Once I made it safely to the other side of the dance floor, I stepped into the kitchen, only to be met by my best friend. They made me come to this stupid party, so I planned to avoid them at all times. I began to turn around, acting as if I hadn't seen them, but of course, that didn't stop them from shouting my name from only a few feet away.

"Yo, Y/N!" They shouted. I winced at how loud their voice was. The music suddenly seemed to be a lot quieter compared to the sound of their volume.

"Hi." I forced a smile.

"Oh, what're you drinking, fireball?" My best friend took my cup from my hand and drank from it, immediately pulling away and laughing. "Why the fuck are you drinking soda? What are you, ten?"

"Then tell me why the soda was offered," I snapped back, reaching for my drink. They slapped my hand away and raised my cup above their head, giving me a disappointed look.

"Sweetheart, this isn't the right happy juice." I rolled my eyes. "Come on, let's go get you something strong to get rid of your stubbornness." They took my hand and dragged me deeper into the kitchen.

"Make way!" They shouted, making the crowd steer clear from the both of us. We eventually stopped at the island in the middle of the large kitchen, and my best friend picked up a few weird-looking bottles, one with a skull on it.

"God, can't I just have my soda?" They shook their head and ended up picking up a bottle of tequila. They took a shot glass and began filling it as a deep voice across from the counter island spoke.

"Aw, soda, that's cute." I looked up and glared at the boy in front of me. He had swept-up, blond hair and the bluest of eyes.

"It's carbonated," I shrugged. "It takes a true badass to handle the amount of soda I've downed and not throw up."

The guy smiled and held out his hand. "I'm Harrison."