#btw. i know u don’t mean to pressure me. but as Guy With Anxiety. please refrain from sending these kinds of asks in the future lmao

[mars-ipan]

When will the thirst blog come back? /nf

eventually…….. i will get to it i prommy…. i am simply . playing games with my friends a lot

[nereidprinc3ss]

hii i love love how u write spencer omds🥸

uhh i was wondering if you could write sth based off the song “we’ll never have sex” by leith ross? pls dont feel pressured to write this btw😭😭😭 hope ur having a good day lovely💗💗

hello my love i have no self control so this is extremely long and plotty but i love this song and i hope that this is any good at all crying emoji (i'm on a laptop LOL) enjoy!!

warnings/tags: angst/fluff, fem!reader, negative self-talk from reader, mentions of past sexual coercion/feeling used, mentions of past excessive drinking to combat social anxiety, ive been watching a lot of new girl lately and i think it shows, SO FRIENDS TO LOVERS, happy ending

You weren’t expecting to end up on Spencer Reid’s worn-leather couch at two in the morning, clutching a chipped mug of coffee in your hands as you listen to the sounds of the city from the street below. But there you are, sitting with your legs folded under you, in your favorite dress and first date-night makeup (now bleeding and smudged from all the crying.) And realizing that despite considering him one of your closest friends, you haven’t been to his apartment in a long time. There are, of course, good reasons for that—but you try to push those from your mind. 

“I’m really sorry about this,” you sigh, staring at your warped reflection in the glassy black surface of your coffee. Spencer is coming out of the small kitchen, now bearing his own cup. 

“Please, stop apologizing.” 

You glance up, tentatively studying him from behind the safety of your mug. While he may not have been asleep when you knocked on his door ten minutes ago, lachrymose and barely verbal, he must have been getting ready for bed. He’s clad in patterned pajama pants, mismatched socks, and an FBI crewneck that is just big enough to reveal the collar of the tee-shirt underneath. He’s already taken out his contacts, and you were startled by the reminder that he also has glasses. 

“So...” he begins, bringing you back to the present moment, “we don't have to talk about anything, if you don’t want to, but...” 

You sigh, watching coffee bubbles swirl like stars in a galaxy. 

“It’s fine. Honestly, I’m kind of embarrassed. I didn’t really think, I just... ended up here.” 

“Yeah... where did you come from?” he laughs quietly. “Not that I’m complaining. But I recall you not living super close by.” 

“No, no. I was actually on a date. Kind of.” 

“Ah.” There’s a beat of silence, and ostensibly Spencer is waiting for you to say more, but instead you take a sip from your mug. “At two in the morning?” You nod dully, staring at the labyrinthine pattern of the Persian rug.  

“I’m taking it that it wasn’t a very good date...?” 

A whoosh of air escapes from your puffed cheeks. 

“No it was not. Not by the end, anyway. It actually started really well, which made it even more disappointing when he...” you laugh, but there’s not much humor in it. “Well, when he kicked me out of his car on a street corner because I didn’t want to sleep with him.” 

You don’t look to see Spencer’s reaction—only take another long, baleful sip of coffee and ignore the heavy silence.  

“I’m really sorry. You... you deserve so much better than that.” 

An attempt at a jaded scoff from you falls flat. 

“Yeah, well. Tell that to the last three white house interns I’ve gone on dates with. It’s the same thing every time.” 

“Have you considered going on fewer dates with white house interns...?” The nervous humor is a thin veil over genuine critique. You shrug, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“It’s not just them. Every single guy I’ve liked since I was 15 has been like this. Even my past relationships, I felt like I was almost... tricked into, you know? I mean, these guys, they act all understanding and willing to take it slow or whatever, until you’re in a relationship, and suddenly they’re guilt tripping you so hard and making you feel so obligated to...” you catch yourself just in time, glancing up at Spencer. You’re not sure what to make of his expression. The drawn brow and slightly squinted eyes trained so intently on you could be sympathy, or anger, or pity, or apathy—you look away, not sure you even want to know what he’s thinking. “Sorry. You don’t need to hear all about that. Basically romance is exhausting and since I’ll clearly be single forever I’m considering running away to join a nunnery.” 

When he doesn’t respond for too long, you look back up quizically. 

“I’m not sure you know what romance actually is,” he says as soon as your gaze meets his, like the eye-contact activated some kind of hair-trigger in his vocal box. 

You blink, lowering the coffee cup to your lap. 

Says Spencer Reid? 

“...sorry?” 

He flushes, stammering to clarify himself. 

“I just meant—I—I know I’m not exactly fighting women off with a stick—” he interrupts himself with a self-conscious (adorable) laugh— “but... but I have been in love, at least once.”  

“Maeve,” you say, gently—trying to shove down bitter guilt as you remember how jealous you’d been when Spencer had first told you about her. “I remember.” 

He swallows and nods. 

“We never even met—we just talked. All the time. I had no idea what she looked like. But it didn’t matter at all. Because I knew her, and I loved her. Maybe things would have gone further if I hadn’t been calling her from public phone booths, but that wasn’t the most important thing to either of us. We were still in love.” You try to shut out the sharp ache in your chest. Being jealous of the way he speaks about a dead woman is so wrong.  

“What I’m trying to say is that romance isn’t solely about sex, or even physical appearance. It sounds to me like you’ve been with a lot of men who don’t understand that. And it would be such a shame for you to write romance off in general before you even get to experience it. You are... an extraordinary woman. You’re funny, and intelligent, and kind, and so capable of being loved. One day, someone is going to see beyond your pulchritude and prove that to you. I hope you let them try.” 

More tears blur the pattern on the rug, pooling in the rims of your eyes before spilling down your cheeks in fast, fat drops. Shakily you set the cup down, resting your elbows on your knees and hiding your face in your hands. You sniff once. Twice. Shake your head quickly, attempting to wipe the tears away without further smearing your makeup everywhere. 

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Spencer breathes, leaning forward but obviously unsure how to comfort you. “Please don’t cry, I wasn’t--I was trying to do the opposite of this.” 

“No, I’m sorry! You didn’t have to—you didn’t—I’m sorry. That was way too nice.” 

But you're not crying because he was nice.  

Someone will love you, but not me. That’s all you can hear. 

His voice is a mere whisper when he next speaks. 

“I meant every word.” 

You take a shuddering breath, allowing yourself a moment of reprieve behind the peaceful black of your eyelids. You can’t be looking at his face when you say what you’re about to say. 

“I had a crush on you for the longest time, you know.” 

Ringing silence. But it doesn’t last as long as you’d imagined. It’s not as world ending. 

“Had?” 

The little smile in his voice is like a fist around your heart. 

“Yeah. You know what changed?” 

“What’s that?” 

Absolutely nothing. 

“Every time I got super drunk and started hitting on you, you’d just drive me home. And I did it a lot. Like, for months. But you were such a gentleman. It drove me fucking crazy. So eventually I figured you just didn’t like me and I gave up.” 

Another stretch of silence. A breeze comes in from the open window, fluttering the curtains and cooling the tears on your face. His response is sad when it finally comes. 

“You thought I didn’t like you because I didn’t try to take advantage of you when you were drunk?” 

“Pretty much.” You smile ruefully, fingertips still pressed over your eyes. “God, listen to me. No wonder I get treated like garbage.” 

“Stop. Don’t talk about yourself like that. Did you hear anything I just said?” 

You sniff, looking to the ceiling. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It was really sweet.” 

More silence. 

“But you don’t believe it.” 

A bitter laugh poisons the air around you. 

“I don’t know.  I’m kind of tired of waiting for someone to prove it to me. Just for once, I want someone to be interested in me beyond having sex in the back of their fucking... Range Rover, or whatever. Like, maybe all that stuff you said is true, but there’s no evidence to support it, and I know logically you’re probably right but I can’t help wondering if... if I’m the outlier. Maybe there just isn’t someone for me like that. Maybe I’m just gonna be the sex in the back of the Range Rover girl forever.” 

A noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob forces itself from your throat and you bury your face in your hands again, shaking your head. 

“Wow, I am so sorry,” you say a little too loudly, “I did not mean to be this honest tonight. Did you spike my coffee?” 

“You are not the outlier,” Spencer whispers.  

You sniff, lifting your head haltingly to look at him. 

“What?” 

His voice shakes slightly as he speaks. 

“You said you can’t help wondering if you’re the outlier, and maybe there just isn’t someone for you like that. That’s not true.” 

“Spencer, those are just words. You can’t possibly know that. Statistical probabilities don’t count.” 

“That’s... that’s not how I know.” 

Your heart drops as you study his face.  

No. 

Surely he’s not saying what you think he’s saying. 

Surely he wouldn’t do this to you after you’ve just told him everything you told him. You have been harboring feelings for him for years. Since you met. He can’t just spring this on you one night because you’re a little bummed out. If he felt the same, you would have found out a long time ago; he had ample opportunity to tell you. There was a period of months where you practically threw yourself all over him at every chance you got, and he did nothing. So this... this is just cruel—something you’ve never known Spencer Reid to be. 

You stand up, trembling slightly with rage and grief and humiliation. 

“Don’t do that. Don’t say things that you don’t mean just to make me feel better.” 

“What are you doing? Don’t--” 

You scoop up your purse, trying to get to the front door as fast as your gelatinous legs will allow. More tears are streaming down your face now and you don’t need him to see what he’s done to you—to see how much you care what he thinks. 

“It’s fine. Thanks for the coffee, I’ll see you around—” 

A hand around your wrist stops you in your tracks 

“Stop. Just... please give me a second to talk, okay?” 

With nothing left to give, you turn to him. 

“Don’t be mean, Spencer. Don’t act like you liked me too. That makes me feel... so much worse.” 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, as if steeling himself. Tawny eyes bore into your soul, and you realize that there is so much sheer nervous energy radiating off of him it’s infectious. Your heart begins to pound as he speaks. 

“I’m not doing that. I’m being an idiot, because you just told me that you don’t feel that way about me anymore but... but I do. And I have to tell you now because for six months I tortured myself wondering why you would flirt with me so much when you were hammered and then act like nothing happened the next day. There were so many times I almost told you how I felt but I didn’t and now I am because even if it ruins our friendship you need to know that somebody... that I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.” 

Your heart is like an unmoored zeppelin in your chest, bumping against your esophagus and threatening to either burst or jump out of your mouth. You take your chances, whispering so quietly it’s almost inaudible. 

“You... you like me?” 

“Yes,” Spencer sighs. “I have liked you for a very long time. And I’m sorry—” 

Whatever ridiculous thing he was going to apologize for, you don’t give him the chance. Instead you launch yourself at him, capturing his lips in a kiss that feels so much better than it’d ever been in your fantasies because it’s real. You hear his sharp intake of breath, but it only takes a second for him to respond, cradling your face in his hands like you’re the entire world. For a moment, time bends. Years of longing, of buried dreams crash into the present in a brilliant, dazzling explosion.

And then, as quickly as it started, he pulls away. The absence of his touch is like a vacuum, so much worse now that you know exactly how it feels to have his lips on yours, even if it was only for a few seconds. How the hell did you live like that for so long? How are you supposed to live like that ever again?

“You’re not thinking clearly,” he breathes, tilting his head back toward the ceiling like he’s barely holding onto his self control. “You just want someone to comfort you, I’m not going to take advantage of you when you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state and confided in me which is manufacturing a false sense of attachment—” 

You grab his wrists, which still graze your jaw.

“Spencer, stop intellectualizing for thirty seconds. I promise you I am thinking clearly.” 

“You said you used to like me, past tense—” 

“Yeah, I did. Do you believe every single murderer who says he didn’t do it?” 

“No, but—” 

“Have you ever heard the phrase; a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts?” 

“Of course I have.” 

“Then what more could you possibly need to be convinced that I really like you? I already kissed you! What is stopping you?” 

Another deep breath is taken by him that seems to suck all the air out of the quiet room. Briefly, you wonder if you’ve made a terrible, terrible mistake. If you really do like him so much more than he could ever like you.  

Until he looks back down, eyes so golden-brown in the dim light, so kind and full of affectionate concern as he carefully assesses every square centimeter of your face, looking for... well, you’re not exactly sure what. It’s like he’s extracting every thought from your head, turning them over like sun-warmed stones until he finds what he’s looking for. He smooths his hands over your hair, brushing strands away from your teary face. Finally, after what feels like an eternity of holding your breath, he speaks. 

“I just want you to believe what I believe about you. But I don’t want you to have to rely on me or anyone else for your own self-worth.” 

“Well, don’t you think very highly of yourself,” you tease with a sniffle. He laughs—it's quiet, but his smile is so bright without even trying that suddenly you can’t remember why you’ve ever been sad. The small miracle of his laughter makes you feel so light, and you realize it has nothing to do with the way he makes you feel about yourself. It has everything to do with who he is. 

Once the giggles die down, you tentatively mirror his hold on your face. 

“Spencer, I don’t like you because you like me. I’ve liked you for an embarrassingly long time. I liked you enough that I gave myself a severe hangover at least once a week for three months just so I could have an excuse to flirt shamelessly with you.” 

A half-sad smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, and he gently swipes under your eyes. 

“You never had to do that. I would have welcomed your sober brazen flirting with open arms.” 

“Well... do you believe me?” you plead. His amber eyes shine. 

“I do.” 

“Will you kiss me?” 

“If that’s what you want.” 

You nod, rising on your toes to meet him halfway. 

When your lips meet again, it is sweet, and honest, and slow, and deep. Still, there is no desperation--no race to an imagined finish line, no clash of teeth and pawing hands. It is a kiss for the sake of it—as if it were the greatest intimacy. Not a precursor to sharing a bed, but something bigger than that in and of its own. Something just as worthy and important. For the first time, you think you’re beginning to understand romance. And while you wouldn’t mind if things did escalate, you also know that Spencer knows that’s not what matters right now. Because he actually understands you—he actually cares. He will wait until you understand that you mean so much more than that to him.

To that end, he pulls away, gently supplanting his absence with a kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“It would be polite of me to offer you a ride home, wouldn’t it?” he whispers, like it’s the last thing he wants to do. You bite the inside of your cheek, coming up with reasons not to go. One ridiculous one arises from the depths of your memory that you know he won’t be able to say no to. 

“Or... I could stay here, and we could watch one of those nerdy foreign films you’re always talking about?” 

A slow, perfect, high-watt smile blossoms on his face, and you know you’ve said exactly the right thing. 

“Nerdy? Oh, my darling girl... Soviet-era filmography is far from nerdy. небесная машина will completely defy what you thought you knew about the life of an average Russian villager in the 1950’s.” 

“Oh, good. Because I’ve really been meaning to change the way I think about the average 1950’s Russian villager,” you smile, already closing in to kiss him again. 

------------------------------------------ 

epilogue

Three hours later, you’re crying because the life of the average Russian villager in the 1950’s was so much worse than you’d previously thought. 

“It was good, right?” Spencer asks as the credits roll over a bleak snowy sepia landscape, leaning back to get a better look at you. You sit up from where you’d been leaning against him, furiously wiping your eyes. 

“It was terrible! Why didn’t you tell me that everyone except the kid dies in the end?!” 

“Because that’s the whole point of the movie!” he laughs, pulling you back into him. “I’m sorry. I probably should have explained how depressing this entire era of film was outside of the US.” 

“And also how long the movies were. I was not prepared for how many five minute long clips of empty fields there were going to be.” 

“You’re right,” he ammends, wrapping his arms around you in a way that gives you butterflies and makes you sleepy at the same time. “Next time we can watch whatever you want to watch.” 

Time passes like that—you in his arms, watching weak light slowly flood the room with half-lidded eyes and listening to the sounds of the city waking up from the street below, underscoring the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Thoughts float by like leaves on the ever-flowing current of your mind, and you’re happy to let them pass until one in particular catches your attention. 

“Spencer?” 

He hums, like he’d been deep in his own proverbial river of thought. 

“What does pulchritude mean?” 

It takes him a split second to remember the bit of conversation from earlier to which you are referring, but when he does, he chuckles, running his hand over your messy hair. 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

And so you let it float away. 

[tomdiddlyumptious]

Can u do a Tom Holland x black reader

Where there relationship has been secret for a while and reader confronts him while there with the ffh cast at a get together and they have a huge argument in front of everyone and reader starts to think he wants to keep her a secret because of what she looks like . Ending in fluff

YES. BTW IF ANYONE ELSE HAS REQUESTS THROW THEM AT ME I NEED TO MAKE IT UP TO UU GUYS🥺

Summary: huh-

Warnings: uhhhh- a dick thomas and a faking it andddd- NOW NOW NOW NANANANA NOW YÆS- jk fluff

A/n: AYO CHILL WITH THE FOLLOWS-AHHHH I LYSMMMMMMMM-

You wanted to not care, you wanted to act like your feelings weren’t hurt- but it wasn’t true, it wasn’t fair. You sigh and laid in bed with him thinking about everything you gave to him, everything you’ve done for him.....but he can’t even take you outside? What the fuck, no really. What the actual fuck.

Your blood boiled on the inside out, just looking at him clouded your mind with all these negative thoughts. You didn’t want it to happen but you couldn’t help it, and since you refused to shed a tear your head was pounding and lips slightly chapped. Hearing his moan made you jump a bit, turning your back to him as you acted sleep. “Y/n?” He whispered, turning enough to look at you and smiled, leaning over to kiss up your arm all the way to your cheek as he took his hand to rub your waist. “Y/n wake up, I wanna make you coffee” he chuckled, biting your ear before kissing it. You opened your eyes and tried best not to laugh, just something about getting caught always made you giggle.

“Hmm?” You let out when he pressed a kiss to your lips, “I wanna make you coffee” you smacked your lips and laid back down “Thomas I’m still tired” lie, you just wanted time to yourself to think about what your gonna do. “Pleaseeeee y/nnnnn!” He shook you and you groaned “fine” he smiled and bit your revealed shoulder making you squeal and try to wiggle him away leaving him laughing at you before he stood up and walked to the kitchen.

“Soooooo” he tried to ease the sudden tension sitting at the table, looking at you drinking the coffee. “Yes?” You looked up at him, placing the mug down. “Uh, I don’t know....just wanted to speak to you ya know?” “Nah I don’t” you shook your head and he furrowed his eyebrows at the mean comment, wondering what went wrong, but he knew better to bother you or else you’d go off the chain. “Zendaya wants to see you” Tom smiled, putting his hands in his lap and rubbing them together while he looked away from you. “Really?” You asked.

It was like a child and their independent, self centering father were talking....the silence loud and the father barely even caring...or at least that’s what it looked like. “Yeah, and so does Jacob, haz, Laura and tony” he cheered up, excited to see you happy. “When?” You grinned as he chuckled, “today, we have to go for lunch” he moved his chair closer to you and pressed a kiss on your forehead before holding your hand. “I love you so much, y/n” it wasn’t the first time he said that, but when he did it sent you unplesant chills as the angel and devil on your shoulders agrued.

‘If he were to love you then he would show you off’ ‘y/n no, he might be scared to’ ‘what is there to be so fücking afraid of, listen to me’ ‘stay positive! You both are gonna get there’ ‘you’ve been dating for multiple months, it’s not even fücking dating it’s like a fling at this point, just a longggg fling-‘

You cut them both out and looked at him “I-I” you choked. “Don’t worry you don’t have to say it, I already know you do” he chuckled.

‘What a cocky bitch’ ‘he just said he loves you!’ ‘He’s laughing at you because you can’t say three simple words’ ‘he’s not pressuring you into doing anything, listen to me!’ ‘You’ve been getting negative signs every single months, it’s time to fucking move on’ ‘just give him another chance! He can change!’ ‘He won’t y/n, he wont’

You didn’t know how to stick to, your angel couldn’t fight anymore because the your devil kept pointing out the larger things and storing up the pot, you chose angel this time and decided to give him one more single chance, after that it’s done. You know your worth.

You smiled up at him and put a kiss to his lips thanking him “it’s no problem princess”

After that whole shannanagin you washed the dishes and took another nap on the couch this time, you wanted to watch Disney+. Tommy woke you up and told you to get ready so you did, just something comfy like sweats and an oversized hoodie with some uggs, he wore jeans and a sweatshirt per usual. “You ready?” He asked watching you when you looked up and nodded, he smile and held his hand out for you to take and you put it there.

‘He’s using you!’ ‘He’s being nice!’

You told your conscious to shut up mentally and then poof they left, the ride was silent and playing some random songs that you couldn’t catch while he tapped his fingers on the wheel.

Once you came in the small quiet restaurant you all sat around the table saying hi to each other, tom sat next to you on the right and on the left was the boys while the rest of the girls sat across from you. Food was ordered and you all were chatting “sooo I see that you two are hanging out a whole bunch...what’s goin on?” Zendaya said. You looked at Thomas “no we aren’t together” he laughed “she’s a friend”

That hit so deep. To deep. You only nodded your head and filled your cheeks with air, Tom looked at you with a smile, his eyes happy too. “Yeah just friends!” You agree, “right” he said after, you released the air in your cheeks and bit the side of your lip. “Cool” Zendaya smiled and looked down at her plate.

Everything was normal for everyone else except you, the small people on your shoulders appearing.

‘I told youuuuu’ ‘y/n I never thought that I could agree with him’ your angel pointed to your devil ‘but I do, whatever needs to come it has to’ the devil perked up to the words, standing and walking to your ear before whispering all the things he’s done.

As you mind cakes up your eyes flare and nostrils perk and jitter, “I have to use the bathroom” you looked at Tom and he only shrugged but noticing the look in your eye he could tell somethings wrong. You stood and walked in the bathroom, your hands shook as you sat ontop of the counter, taking time to yourself to try and calm down but that’s all that you could think about. Trying to be respectful as possible.

Tom pretended to walk inside the men’s bathroom but instead came into the woman’s, seeing you stare at your hands. “Y/n?” He tried to be gentle. “What the fuck do you want, Thomas?” You looked up at him. “What-“ “get out” “tell me what’s wrong” he stepped in and the bathroom door closed by it’s self. “what’s wrong? We aren’t dating so what does that matter? Leave me alone” “I’m not leaving you a fücking lone, you need to get your act together so you can sit down with your fucking friends” he said sternly.

“What am I? Your fucking pet? Child? No the fuck I’m not!” You stood, walking over slowly. “I’ve tried my fücking best to ignore it, to suck it up, to hide it, but you fucking enrage me SO MUCH that I can’t help it!” “Shut up y/n your being to loud” “IM BEING TO LOUD? HERE ILL BE MORE FUCKING QUIETER!” You raised your voice louder.

Everyone’s eyebrows furrowed as they could hear your screams.

As you got closer he backed up more. “Y/n please-“ “what thomas? You dont wanna let everyone know what a fucking bitch you are? The fact that you LIE TO EVERYONE about our relationship”

At this point you were so blinded you didnt notice that you were infront of everyone.

“Why do you hide me away?” You genuinely asked, and suddenlyyou were crashed by a sudden rush of anxiety. “is it because i dont look like your past exes?” He was backed up against the table as you stopped right infront him, your eyes started to water as he didnt reply.

“Y/n i-“ zendaya harrison and jacob looked at tom too, it was clear what the problem was and zendaya was getting kinda mad and was waiting for an answer.

“Thomas” you begged and he had nothing, he said.... nothing.

Tears fell down his cheek as he watched you sniffle and rub your nose, grabbing your bag and running out.

Everyone watched him in silence as he leaned back into the table “excuse me” the lady gently said, tom noticed it wasnt his table so he only walked out of the store and waited outside.

He watched as you pulled out of the car but he didnt even feel like trying to make you come back, you do need to have some time to yourself.

“Fuck” he let out, wondering why he didnt say anything nor do anything. Harrison walked outside and sat next to him.

“Why?” He asked and tom looked at him. “I dont know i just felt like- i felt like my fans were gonna hurt her” “but you did” harrison pointed at tom “you didnt even give a chance and she stuck by your side for how long?” Tom told away and as he speaked he noticed how much of a dick he was......is.

You cried in the bed while you had your things out, getting ready to pack them up as you could barely breathe choking ob your sobs.

What did i do wrong? What did i do to deserve this? Should i change?

All these things running through your head and distracting yourself from putting your stuff up.

You ened up crying your ass off, crying it longer then the months that youve both been together, its all that you could think about honestly.

So when he came home you didn’t even notice your head hurt and your eyes stung, cuddling the pillow while your clothes were on the floor.

He hated seeing you like this, it made him cry and something he couldnt suck up, so when he saw you hurt and hearing your weeps it instantly hit him and made him come over and sit on the end of the bed, uncontrollable tears falling down his cheeks while he let out matching sobs.

You sat up and saw him, your eyes drying as they filled with hatred you stood and walked but tom beat you to the door, shutting it and locking it behind you.

You pointed to the door silently asking him to let you out but he shook his head refusing to. You walked up to him and tried to take his hand to pull him out the way but instead he forced his arms around your neck to hug you.

“Get off of me!” You yelled muffled. “No” he simply said, kissing your head as tears continued falling down his cheeks. “Get off- please get off!” You tried pushing him but he wouldnt budge.

“You can hit me, push me, whatever you want but im not letting you go” he gripped tighter speaking into your hair. “Fuck you” you muttered and he replied with a ‘i know’.

You both sat in silence all day and he was still hugging you but you didnt hug back until you calmed down, sobbing into his chest. “Y/n, you’re the one i want, you’re the one i need. So im begging you please... just dont leave me” he whispered starring at wall, his fingers touching your hair and trying to sooth you.

“Im scared your gonna leave me tom” you look up at him with your chin on his chest. He looker back at you “i cant even think of it, darling” he rubbed away your tears “but why-“ “i was scared” “what is there to be so afraid of?” “My fans are terrible... at least the 12 year olds” he chuckled “im scared they wont see the same beauty i see in my eyes, id rather keep you to myself then share you with this cruel world”

He reached down and kissed your forehead. “But youve been doing it for so long and-“ you sighed “i didnt feel like it was that long, you made me feel like-like you took it away. Like i could spend forever with you and it woukd seem like it was just an hour or so”

You gave him a weak smile and he returned it, reaching to meet his lips you did, the kiss salty from the shared tears but no one was complaining, you both laid in the bed and he cuddled right behind you, while you were sleep he took a picture and posted it with the caption ‘couldnt ever ask for anything better, love you y/n’

After that he shut off his phone and returned to your side and pressed a kiss on your neck before falling asleep, safe and sound.