#i love when silence is used in movies and films. a thousand words hanging in the air but the silence is too heavy on one's vocal chords

[sleepyblessing]

the transition from yuuji's and nobara's laughter to the pure, bloody, heartwrenching silence and yuuji's heavy breathing. 👌 cinema.

[you-can-call-me-wanda]

Fake Dating

Pairing: Nikki Sixx x Reader

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy! Thanks for reading :)

When you first started dating Nikki Sixx, it was all for the money.

Now dating someone for money may sound cruel and awful to most, but in your case, it was a little different. Dating Nikki was literally your job.

You had been reached out to by Nikki’s management close to eight months ago and were offered the job of becoming his fake partner. Mötley Crüe had gotten into some sort of scandal once again that had the public upset and protesting their work. It really wasn’t anything that bad that the band had been up to, just their typical hotel shenanigans, but it happened right before their new album release and their label was desperate to change the opinions of any upset mothers to try and increase album sales.

So, they had reached out to you. Why? Because you were exactly what they needed to get the public back on the side of Mötley Crüe. You were a small-time actor and pretty much universally liked. Having gotten most of your fame from starring in a recent and popular children’s movie, you were recognizable to children and parents alike. You were relatively new to professional acting, so there was no sort of rumors or nasty gossip associated with your name. Not to mention, you were young and beautiful and, even better, had no criminal record. You perfect for the role of Nikki Sixx’s significant other.

You were hesitant to accept of course. Sure, you had heard rumors of celebrities with fake or hired partners before, but never had you been asked to be in on one of those schemes. It felt wrong, to be lying to so many people, but the pay was too good for you turn down. You were in between gigs at the moment, having had no job offers since your big movie role. Maybe it was wrong to have ever accepted, but you had, and there was definitely no turning back now.

To everyone’s surprise and Mötley Crüe management’s absolute glee, the tabloids and press was obsessed with your and Nikki’s relationship. After just one “date” out with Nikki, a no-expenses lunch courtesy of Elektra Records and lots of well-timed hand holding and pecks on the cheek, paparazzi photos of the two of you could be seen on virtually every teen gossip magazine’s cover. When people mentioned Mötley Crüe now, they were talking about you and Nikki, not the fact that they got banned from the Hilton or destroyed over fourteen thousand dollars’ worth of property at their last hotel stay on tour.

Like you were, Nikki had been hesitant to play along with this fake relationship. It was weird and the whole thing was uncomfortable in the beginning. You were a complete stranger to him and now he was expected to kiss you in public and take you out on dates? It was awkward to say the least. But over time, the two of you warmed up to each other and your roles. With every staged date, you two got closer and closer and got to know each other more and more. Things got easier, and you actually began to enjoy the company that Nikki provided when you saw him, and the two of you even began to hang out sometimes even when it wasn’t scheduled by corporate.

“Hey (Y/N)!”

You turned around where you stood to see Nikki and his best friend and bandmate, Tommy, running towards you.

“Hey,” you said, smiling widely at the two boys. “You guys ready for your big show?”

Today was the last night of Mötley Crüe’s tour and it was the biggest show yet. You had been invited by management since the show was to be filmed with some backstage footage as well. And since Nikki was your fake boyfriend, it only made sense for you to be there with him.

“Hell yeah!” Tommy cheered, twirling his drumsticks in his hands. “Tonight is going to be killer! You’re gonna be watching from side stage, right?”

“Of course I will,” you said. “You know how much I love seeing you guys play.”

And it was true. The best part about your newest acting role besides getting to hang out with Nikki, was watching his band perform on stage.

“That’s why you’re the best,” Tommy said, ruffling a hand through your hand and bounding off down the hall on the venue excitedly. “I’m going to go warm up!” he called over his shoulder. “Don’t chicken out on me Sixx!”

You turned back to Nikki with a confused smile.

“That boy is all kinds of weird,” you laughed.

“Tell me about it,” Nikki said with an eye roll.

“What does he mean about chickening about?” you asked. “You nervous for the show or something?”

Nikki had never seemed nervous before a performance before. He was normally excited, but maybe since this was his biggest gig yet, the stage fright was getting to him. You examined him carefully. He did look a little nervous. He was tapping his fingers to an irregular rhythm against his leather-clad thigh and biting his lip just slightly.

Nikki sighed through his nose and attempted to look non-chalant. The real reason he was so nervous was because tonight was the night he had decided would be the time when finally he told you that he loved you. He had stupidly mentioned it to Tommy who in turn had told Mick and Vince and half the crew. Now, almost thirty people had wagered money on whether he would actually go through with it or not. Somehow, thankfully, you had been left blissfully in the dark to all of this.

“No,” Nikki said. “I’m not nervous. It’s nothing really. Just Tommy being dumb like always.”

“Oh, okay,” you responded. “As long as you’re okay. By the way, Mick said you wanted to talk to me earlier.”

Nikki cursed under his breath. Of course, Mick would intervene. He had bet a hefty amount of cash on Nikki being brave enough to confess his feelings to you.

“He did? Oh, well, it’s really nothing important. It can wait until later,” he said, swallowing thickly.

In reality, Nikki was genuinely terrified to tell you that he loved and ask you out. Normally, he was confident in matters like this, but with you, he felt like he was diving headfirst into the unknown. He felt a connection with you, and he was sure that his feelings for you were true, but he had no idea if you felt the same. In any other situation, he could probably figure out if someone were interested in him based on how they interacted, but with you that was near impossible. You were literally being paid to date him. How was he to discern between your acting and what you really thought? For all he knew, you could hate his guts and just be putting on a show to keep getting your monthly check.

And if he told you that he loved you, and you didn’t feel the same, he wouldn’t know what to do. Not only would he be heartbroken, but he wouldn’t be able to hide from you. You would still be invited to events and he would still have to pretend to be your boyfriend. He couldn’t imagine anything worse than having to kiss you knowing that you didn’t and had never had any feelings for him.

“Are you sure?” you asked. “There’s plenty of time to talk now. You’re not on for another hour at least.”

“I just uh, I just- I don’t know,” Nikki stammered.

“Sixx,” you said with a laugh. “Just tell me.” You placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “You’re my fake boyfriend, remember? I love you,” you joked.

Your words pained Nikki because he knew you were only teasing.

“Do you really though?” Nikki asked quietly, finally finding the strength to make his move.

The smile slipped off your face.

“What?”

“Do you actually love me?” Nikki repeated louder, looking up at you. “Do you really love me?”

You were caught off guard to say the least. That was not what you had been expecting Nikki to ask you. Did you love him? Of course you did, but why was he asking? Had he figured out that you were secretly harboring feelings for him, the boy you were supposed to be fake dating? Had he realized that your acting was getting to be too realistic, that you couldn’t possibly be faking this well?

“Why are you asking me that?” you said, avoiding answering his question.

“Just answer me,” Nikki said. His eyes searched yours for an answer.

You could feel your heart hammering away in your chest. Did he know? You were panicking, trying to think of something to say. Should you deny any feelings you had for him? It would be unprofessional to admit that somewhere along the line, you had begun to really love him.

“(Y/N),” Nikki said, realizing you weren’t going to answer him. “(Y/N), I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend anymore.”

You felt like he had punched you in the gut. All the air left you lungs. So, this was it. He had figured you out and was ending things. He didn’t want to see you anymore now that he knew.

“You- what?” you asked, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice. “Why?”

“I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend anymore because I want to be your real boyfriend (Y/N),” Nikki said. His eyes turned downcast, too nervous to look at you. “I don’t know when it happened (Y/N), but I’ve fallen for you. You’re just- you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. You’re smart and witty and fun. You can make me laugh and get me out of a bad mood. You know how to party, but you also can just sit and have an honest conversation with me. I love you and I want this to be real, what’s going on between us.”

You were speechless yet again. You gazed at him in awe, shocked by what he had just admitted.

Nikki took your surprised silence as rejection and his shoulders sagged visibly.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked eventually, daring to look up at you now.

“I, uh- I mean, no. I’m just surprised is all,” you managed to spit out. “You really mean all that?”

Nikki merely nodded.

“Nikki, I- oh my god. I love you too,” you said, finally finding the words you wanted to say back to him.

Nikki looked skeptically hopeful.

“You do?” he asked hesitantly. “You really mean that?”

“Nikki,” you started, breaking out into a grin. “I have loved you for months now. I thought you could never feel the same, so I didn’t say anything. I thought you would hate me if I told you.”

“I could never hate you,” Nikki said, lips curling up to match yours. “God (Y/N), I really love you. Can I- will you- would you be alright if we started dating for real now?” he asked. “No more staged dates or kisses. Just you and me actually doing this.”

You nodded excitedly.

“Yes,” you agreed quickly. “Yes, I would like nothing better Nikki.”

Nikki let out a relieved laugh and quickly threw his arms around you in a tight embrace.

“Can I ask you one last thing?” he said, as you hugged him back.

“Of course,” you said, pulling back to look at him.

“Can I kiss you now? For real this time?”

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker - Far From Home

This is long, angsty and fluffy! It follows the film, mostly. 

Plot: Peter Parker has just been run over by a train. However, he has biggest worries. Like, Beck having you in his grasp. 

“Oh my god, Happy”

Peter let out a loud hiss when the needle hit his skin once more, and swallowed down the tears that threatened to leave his eyes. He bit his lip, closed his eyes and endured the pain for a while longer. No more than a few hours ago, he had been all over the moon because you had asked him to go for a walk through the city. He had been inches away from kissing you, had gripped your hand and had told you the truth about his identity; well, you had figured it out, but no one needed to know that. It felt like a dream, that had turned into a nightmare because of his stupidity.

“Just a few more to go, don’t worry” Happy said, using a soft voice that Peter thought he didn’t deserve.

Another pinch, another hiss. The needle, however, wasn’t what hurt him the most. It was a mash up between the betrayal of who he thought he could trust, the guilt crushing into him like waves, and his mind running a mile per hour with the possibilities of the disaster that he had caused.

He tried looking out of the window and focused on the low hum of the plane. It was hard to disassociate from Happy stitching up his shoulder without any anaesthetic, and just when he thought he had managed to keep his breathing under control, the careful man hit some nerve and Peter jumped on his seat.

“Happy!” Peter slammed his fist on the desk, an empty cup making its way to the ground.

“Relax, Peter!” Happy tried to calm him down, but it only angered Peter more. The boy got up in a sudden move, with half of his wound still bleeding. Happy was about to drag him back to the chair when Peter turned around and faced him, showing the angry tears on his eyes.

“Don��t tell me to relax!”

Happy had known Peter for some years by then. He had thought he knew the boy fairly well to say that Peter was nothing but sunshine and rainbows. The kid made videos, introduced himself to everything – and anything – , and sometimes brought sandwiches for him when he thought Happy might not have eaten yet. But the way Peter spoke, showed him that the pain he was feeling was nothing like sunshine and rainbows. In fact, Happy thought no one should ever felt it – especially not a kid, his kid.

“How can I relax when I messed up so bad?” his voice broke at the end into a messy sob, and Peter pressed the back of his bloody hand to his lips. “I trusted – I trusted Beck. I thought he was my friend, I gave him the only thing Mr Stark left behind for me.”

“Kid, maybe – ” Happy started, but Peter cut him off.

“And now, he has her.” Peter let the tears run down his cheeks, supporting himself against the side of the plane. “He has the most important person for me and the deadliest weapon, because – because I can’t take care of anything without messing up”

His legs gave up and Happy didn’t have time to catch him before he stumbled into the nearest sit. The autopilot was, once more, the only thing that could be heard in the plane, besides Peter’s quiet sobs. Happy didn’t know much about what had happened, just that he had received a call from a very long number and had to fly through half of the world to get Peter. Since then, he had had to calm the boy down from a panic attack twice, where he had only muttered your name and asked if everything was real.

“So, please… do not tell me to relax.” Peter breathed out.

He let his body fall down until his head was nearly hitting his knees, and ran a desperate hand through his hair. It was damp with blood and sweat, and he missed so, so much the brief feeling of your hand running through his hair. It had been just a second, after he had freaked out after the whole discovery with Mysterio, and you had done it by chance. But he wanted so desperately to feel it again. Peter and Happy let the silence take over for a few minutes, and Peter used that time to get his shit together.

Finally, he heard movement and raised his head. Happy was sitting now in front of him, leaning towards him with his hands clasped together. There was only a desk between them, and that reminded him of the abysm that dissociated both of them in that moment. While Peter was witnessing his whole word crash, Happy still had to understand where that awful wound came from.

“You have to talk to me, Peter” Happy tried to sound as friendly as possible. He searched Peter’s eyes with his own, and held the smile even when he saw the pain in them.

“Y/N… she’s the girl I had the plan with” Peter started, lowering his gaze again. “I was supposed to kiss her at the top of the Eiffel tower, because she loves those awful love movies and I really, really like her Happy”

Peter started to tell him how Nick Fury had crashed his plan by changing the trip, how Beck had appeared from another universe and he had been fooled like a kid. How you had found a drone that proved his lies and had showed it to Peter, discovering his secret identity in the way. Peter avoided the details about how you had almost kissed in the bridge and how you had hug him for a while longer when he had jumped from that window; not knowing Beck was already at the hotel and had targeted you before Peter had the chance to do anything about it.

“It was all a trap. It – I-I fell for it. A-and he had her all the time, but I couldn’t… reach her” Peter tried to explain how the illusions had messed up with his head, and hadn’t let him save you. “Then – the train, I was hit by a train and I fell unconscious. I woke up before I called you”

“And that guy still has Y/N” Happy finished for him, and Peter nodded.

The shadow of you reaching for him, in Beck’s grasp, just before the train ran him over clouded if eyes. Peter wondered if you knew he was alive; you hadn’t known he was Spiderman until that night, and his powers were still some mystery for him sometimes. He wondered, too, if you were alive. If Beck wanted to, he could have killed you just after the crash.

But his ‘peter tingle’ told him you were still alive, with Beck, in case the plan had gone wrong and Peter came back. That was, probably, what scared him the post. That you would have to endure just an inch of what the illusions made to him.

Peter pressed the palms of his hands against his eyes and rubbed them until he saw white spots, and then looked up to Happy.

“I don’t know what to do, Happy” Peter wasn’t afraid of sounding weak, or childish, in front of him. The man sighed. “I just – I just want her back”

“You’re Spiderman. She counts on you” Happy told him with a small smirk, and his eyes were the most real thing Peter had seen since the fight with Mysterio. “You’ll figure something out”

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

That Flash had a public account with no self-preservation, where he announced himself the biggest fan of spiderman and uploaded the most embarrassing things, came in handy. Peter decided to take care of the suit while Happy drove them to London, where the students were and where he hoped Mysterio would be. Ned also knew about the fiasco of the monsters, and probably MJ did too, so they were probably a threat too.

The suit he was creating was nothing like the old one. He decided to go with the original colours, eliminating the blue and using only black and red. He added a few new webs designs he was working with Tony the last time in the lab, something similar to a parachute so that he could fly down from the plane, and a thicker cloth around his body so that he wouldn’t be defeated so easily.

Like last time. Where he had seen you for the last time.

Breathing through his mouth and giving Happy a hesitant thumb up, he decided to rip the band-aid at once, jumping out without looking back. Suddenly, he was surrounded by air, clouds and pressure. Peter fell through the sky like a crumb, right into the bigger mess he had seen in a long time.

A bus was in flames, flying in the sky and being torn apart like if it was made of clay. People were running everywhere, screaming and looking for their loved ones. As Peter went down, he could see more of the scenario; like Ned gripping Betty’s arm with one hand and leading MJ away with the other, or Mr Harrington trying to calm everyone down while screeching like a fire alarm.

Peter landed on the top of the bridge, hidden from plain sight but still in a good position to see everything above him. Like, Mysterio controlling the drones with a big helmet from inside the glass tunnel, while gripping your arm and dragging you around. He sucked in a breath as he quickly searched for any injuries. You seemed fine, wearing the same floral drees you had been wearing for the opera, then stained by grease and blood. Your hair, that had been pulled up, was obstructing your face as you tried to break free from Mysterio.

But you were alive, still having the will to fight against him, and Peter could almost laugh in relief. He didn’t waste much time in relaxing, instead going for the plan that he had made up in the short trip there.

“Happy?” he muttered against his earpiece. “I ��� Y/N is down there”

“That’s good, kid” Happy muffled voice came through the earpiece.  “You know the plan then. Turn off the earpiece and cause a distraction. I’ll be waiting on the ground, just bring her to me and I’ll put her to safety”

“Alright” Peter smiled shakily. For a moment, he hesitated. He knew he was far from just a kid, but he had really, really wanted to be a trip without any problem. Where he could talk about his feelings with you, and maybe kiss you. His hand trembled for a second; then he pressed the earpiece. “See you in a minute”

The lines of drones designed to protect Mysterio failed to detect Peter when he entered into the cloud, and the boy let his mouth hang open. There were, at least, one thousand drones flying around an open air, shooting and creating an illusion for the rest of the world. In the middle, stood the real Beck, talking angrily with someone and still holding your arm.

From where he stood on one of the drones, he could see some kind of wound on your ankle, that stopped you from moving freely. Peter gripped the end of the drone where he was resting with so much force that the mental bended under his fingers, and he had to stop himself before throwing everything through the roof. Instead of just going for Beck, he focused on the drones.

They seemed to be following a path. Move left twice, then right once, up and down three times. The plan was simple; destroy one of them so that Beck would be forced to check it out, and use the opportunity to lower you to Happy, who would put you in a safe place while Peter ended up the fight.

Peter decided to go with one that seemed lonely. It was probably in charge of something small, like the monster’s finger or his eye. He threw an explosive web to it and hid under the glass bridge when it exploded. From there, he could hear everything.

“No, I want the cape – what was that?” Beck turned around like a maniac, hissing venom into the earpiece. “Why the fuck has a drone exploded?! I said I wanted a perfect job this time!”

A unintelligible response came out of Beck’s helmet, too low even for Peter’s ear to pick up. He watched, from his place under a piece of metal, how his face became redder and redder until a vein popped out of his neck. It seemed that Peter was finally seeing Beck’s true face; a mad man that couldn’t control his emotions.

“I don’t care! I don’t – if this goes wrong, you’re dead! You hear me?! I’m gonna fucking rip you apart!” he threatened into the earpiece. Peter winced each time you were shaken around like a piece of rag, but forced himself to stay in place. “Like everything, I’ll go and solve it. But be fucking prepared for when I come back”

Beck took out the earpiece and threw it over the bridge, emitting a low grunt. Your lip trembled and more tears fell down your cheeks when his grip on your arm became more rough. Over the past few hours, you had cried, begged, yelled, insulted, sassed and said everything you could think of to the man. Still, the only thing you had received had been a nasty bruise on your cheek and a hard stamp on your foot that probably was broken.

“Now, listed to me” Beck kneeled in front of you and frowned. When he talked, spit hit your cheek. “You stay here. Quiet, still and being a good girl. If I find you an inch to the left, I’m going to throw you to the river tied to a drone. And that’s not gonna feel nice. You hear me?”

“Yes” you answered, knowing that if you didn’t he would only get angrier. “Yes, I won’t – I won’t move”

“I know you won’t” Beck scoffed, and inched closer. “But if by any chances certain spider boy comes around, you will stay put too. Because I don’t think his body would take two thousand drones shooting at him, alright?”

You nodded quickly and another sob rose up your throat. Beck got up and dragged you to the side of the bridge. He didn’t bother in tying you, because he had played with your mind enough times to know you wouldn’t move.

A drone appeared in front of him, simulating a small platform where he could step on. Beck spared you a final glare and drifted away into the mass of drones.

Peter, still hidden under the bridge, saw his chance and crawled up to where you were. He took his mask off with one hand and clenched his jaw. His body hurt and his spidey sense was screaming at him to leave, but he kept moving until he was besides you. He took a second to look at you thoughtfully; from head to toe, from how your hair was messy from being dragged and the way you hugged yourself.

It took him a while to move, because he could feel the panic attack rise to his throat, and the bile with it. He was tempted to turn to the side and empty what he had left in his stomach, but swallowed and gave you a hesitant smile. You didn’t move, neither, and he was afraid you thought he wasn’t real. Been there, done that.

“Hey” he whispered, and stepped – or crawled, since he was still in fours – forwards. “Hey, Y/N. It’s me”

“Oh my god” you squealed out, and unfolded the protective shell you had created around your body to put your hands on your mouth. “Oh my –“

“I know, I know” he stopped you, and looked quickly around to check Beck was still busy. “But I’m here. I’m – I’m real. And I can prove it! Ask me –“

“Oh my god, you’re alive!”

Peter barely could do anything before your body crushed into him. He wasn’t prepared for it, so he fell onto his butt and caught both of your bodies with his elbow. Swallowing the hiss of pain, he wrapped his free arm around your middle and hid his face on your neck.

Suddenly, he felt like a kid.

Spiderman wasn’t supposed to do that, but Peter let the first sob break through his throat and pressed you tighter against his body. Time was hot on your trails, and Peter knew that; yet he only took shaky breaths against your neck. You were talking, saying something about Beck, your class and the drones. It was all white noise, compared to his heart beating loudly against his ears.

You smelt like blood, sweat and Beck. It wasn’t a pleasant smell, because Peter was sensitive to them and, after hours of captivity, they weren’t nice. Behind them, there was also your natural smell, the one he found himself sniffling in class when you sat in front of him. It was there, just like Peter’s sanity, hanging by a thread.

Slowly, Peter pulled you back until your faces were only inches apart. He had to shift his gaze to see your features, and his lip shook dangerously. There were tears on his cheeks, and his eyes were glossy.

“I’m gonna get you out of here” Peter whispered. He didn’t want to sound weak, but it seemed that he was the one seeking your comfort. “I – Happy is down there, and he’ll take you to a safe place. I’m sorry… I couldn’t save you. Sorry.”

“It’s okay” you reassured him. “You’re saving me now, Spiderman.”

“But I couldn’t – “

“We can discuss it later” you cut him off with a small wet laugh. “I think I’m going into cardiac arrest if I spend one more second here”

Peter nodded once, twice and a last one more firmly. He got up and helped you to stand by his side, your ankle making your lean against him. Again, with just one hand, he put on his mask and jumped out of the bridge in a blink of an eye. Wind rushed past him like the familiar feeling he was used to, and he felt as if he was just in Queens, swinging back to his apartment after a rough patrol.

The occasional yelp from you and threat woke him up from his daydream.

He landed in an alley, away from the mess and destruction. Happy was waiting for you like the loyal friend he was, with a black car already on and a gun ready on his shelter. The plan was to run in the opposite direction, run by a hospital in case it was needed, and wait for Peter to go back home. It was a rushed plan, open to many problems and obstacles, hence the gun, but Peter didn’t have anything else. With a sigh, he unwrapped his arm from your waist and let you catch your breath.

“Peter – that was – we were, they were just seconds!” you smacked his shoulder lightly, and Peter didn’t have the heart to tell you it had been stitched in the ride there. “Why didn’t – I’m taking so many advantage of that.”

“We can… talk about that. At home” Peter said, voice muffled under the mask. He didn’t want to risk breaking down again, so he didn’t take off the mask. “I’ll see you there. I have, you know, to go back”

“I guess” you shuddered, and Happy honked. Neither of you cared. “Be careful”

“I will”

There went his plan, probably. The beautiful blue necklace he had brought you in Venice was probably destroyed in his backpack, wherever it was then. The kiss, shattered by an improvised kidnapping. His date, ruined by a mad murderer. And the girl he wanted to do all of that with, in front of him ready to go home.

Peter swallowed around nothing, because his throat felt dry.

“I, uh, we could do that again. No the swinging. The – the other part” Peter blushed under the mask, and you raised a brow.

“The part you got it by a train? Or the kidnapping?” you teased.

“No! No that’s – isn’t happening again. I promise. Never, ever again” Peter shook his head and raised his hands. “Like in a million years? Never. I’m sorry. Not that, it shouldn’t –“

Happy honked again, and both of you jumped a bit. He shouted something to Peter and signalled inside of the car and behind you. The place wasn’t ideal, but neither was probably kissing Spiderman. After all, you had just been kidnapped and Peter was going to risk his life for the sake of the humanity.

So nothing wasn’t ideal, but Peter wasn’t either, and that was where the magic of things laid.

There was a sudden breeze hitting the lower part of his face, and the mask rested uncomfortably against the bruises on his cheeks. Shivers ran down his spine and for a moment he was afraid, because his vison was being blocked because of the mask and his ears were covered. Probably a second before having a breakdown, he felt your lips on his.

They were soft but decisive, your hand cradling the back of his head. It wasn’t as good as what he had planned, yet he could live with that. Leaning forward and ignoring Happy’s indignant shout, he responded to the kiss. There were no fireworks or angels singings, and his body still hurt from the beating. Nothing was being solved by kissing, but he surely felt a lot better.

The kiss was awkward because of the mask, and Peter was too petrified to even think about removing it. One of his hands was resting on your hip, while the other just clenched and unclenched at his side. Your fingers cradled the baby hairs of his neck and he shudder, making you smile and push yourself tighter against his.

As quickly as it had come, it went away. You stepped back, lowered his mask and the world screamed for him again. Peter wasn’t sure, for a second, that it had been real; but then he saw the blush of your cheeks, the angry-proud smirk in Happy’s face, and the tingling on the tips of his fingers.

“Yeah, we can repeat this later” you said, and kissed his masked cheek. If he hadn’t had the mask, he would probably had been as red as it. “See you later, Peter”

Not the first date he had imagined, but he was fairly okay with it.

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[bymaellena]

Touching the Stars | Chapter #1

With a loud thud, Anna Park had been abruptly taken out of her dreams. The subway had finally arrived at her station.

When she was in High School, becoming a manager was nothing like that. She thought she would have a good car, a beautiful house and idols to take care. She could run in the morning, drink a coffee in the cafeteria next to her house after a hot shower and receive a smile from all her respectful co-workers. She would have friends to dinner with and have lots of fun activities on her schedule to entertain fans at the same time she would make sure all the stress provided by fame could be taken away from her protegees.

And, in the weekends, she could finally seat in peace at her sofa and enjoy some dramas and mukbangs while eating her favorite foods. Or, if the weather was good, she could just stargaze in the terrace while waiting for her homemade barbecue to be ready. Peace, silence and fullness.

Instead of the beautiful and complex scenario that a 16 year old girl could create in her mind, ten years later her life couldn't be more different. She had not gotten a place in the college of her choice and the internship she had gotten was in a company so small that the only artist who promoted it was one of the founders. Serving coffee was never her dream, let alone living in a tiny room with thousands of stairs and taking two hours to get to the company. Incredibly, despite all the endless walks and stairs that were cursed daily, she had put on weight too.

She blamed the huge amount of sleepless nights and noodles that she ate. But she was immensely dedicated to the company. Although not her dream company, what she discovered in a hidden dark corner of Gangnam-do was something beyond what she studied in college. She found CEOs who cared so much for the artists and staff that they forced her to at least doze off in the break room for a few hours daily. Four solo artists, three groups and two changes of address later, all the blood, sweat and tears had made the company grow and managed to house more artists than she had imagined.

Twenty trainees growing up year after year was something she hadn't imagined she would be able to witness. Some were younger, some older, but all talented and incredible enough to win a place in their hearts. Despite being different from what she had dreamed of, her life wasn't that bad. She only complained when reality hit her hard.

And reality literally decided to slam the door in her face as she tried to get out of the crowded subway. Missing the station would mean five minutes late. Five minutes that it would take to arrive at the cafeteria of the building just to see the queue for the giant cafe, and having to decide whether to be scolded for being late or for not bringing coffee for the entire team. It was her fault that she slept late enough not to be able to wake up on time, but it was for good reason.

She finally got a dorm room good enough for all twenty trainees who were going to move in an attempt to finally get her debut. An apartment near Gangnam-do with five bedrooms was not easy to find, in fact, it was impossible. But something she had learned at that company was that all the staff were responsible for doing the impossible to make the artists feel good. After so much bad news of idols being harmed in all different ways and in all different ways, all I wanted was for the girls, too young to be able to handle everything that fame could bring, to be able to rest in peace after a long day . If she couldn't have the apartment of her dreams, at least the girls could.

"I was almost asleep without your coffee, Anna." Kang Hyunsik jokes, getting up and helping the girl with all the boxes and bags she carried. "Are you preparing for war?" Anna laughed, feeling the full weight of the stress go away with the boxes she was carrying. After all these years, she was still surprised at how Hyunsik managed to have that effect on everyone.

He might not be handsome enough to be an idol, but his smile was enough to brighten up the room and his selfless attitude was what attracted the girl to the team in the first place. He was a talented manager, above all, managing his artists as best as possible and always making sure that they slept at least six hours a day. "Preparing for the war against the press, for sure. Did you forget that the news from the reality show is out today?"

"How could I forget? This place hasn't stopped for a second in the past month, it's insane," he took a deep breath, escorting her to the meeting room. "Do you really think that a reality show is the best way to debut girls? Twenty girls competing for nine places seems very cruel, and we know how much it can affect them," Anna asked, still concerned.

Six months later and she still hadn't gotten used to the idea of ​​playing teenagers in a place with cameras filming all the time and an invisible jury to look at their whole lives, without mercy. "It was taking too long for you to say that," Hyunsik laughed, delighted by her friend's motherly attitude.

"Despite not being the most appropriate according to the company's parameters, it will be a good thing. We promise, and we sign, that they will not be filmed all the time, they will have a day of rest a week and will have daily medical and psychological monitoring. . If any of them are not comfortable, we will take care of them "He breathed, placing the boxes on the floor of the elevator and pressing the button. "Besides, they will be in good hands."

Anna laughed, taking a break from the walk she had taken there. Some days, her body missed when the company was smaller. "Do you really think so?", She asked anxiously. After so many years dreaming, the opportunity to finally look after some group had fallen into her hands, leaving her excited and apprehensive at the same time.

"Anna, you work here as long as I do, you deserve this job. Besides, with someone who cares about them most of the time, I'm sure they will love you as a manager." And there it was, one more of those radiant smiles that filled her with confidence. It was impressive, as if all the charms of a smile came together in one person, it was almost as if it were in some cliché drama. Or in a toothpaste commercial.

They entered the meeting room, finding the others responsible for making that dream happen. There were two ways that described ONE Entertainment founder and main producer, Lee Jimin. Genius, responsible and CEO were the words that came together in all the stories about him, followed by all the awards he had won throughout his career, either for his music or for those he composed for his artists.

But if Anna could really describe her superior, it would be quite different. He was an extremely relaxed and funny guy, always forgetting where he had put his car keys, cell phone and glasses. Most of the time she was humming around the building and loved to spend most of her time on the terrace, as if the absence of sunlight from the studios blocked her source of inspiration.Above all, Jimin was like an older brother to Anna. He always offered her a ride and took milk from a box when he had time, helping her with all the jobs she received. Certainly a key part for the growth of it and the company as a whole.

Walking around with a half-empty cup of coffee in hand, the elegant woman was Nam Bora. She spoke emphatically on the phone, in a language she couldn't understand. Even if she were English, Anna would probably not understand. The company's co-founder was responsible for finance and international transactions.

She didn't spend a lot of time with the managing team, always traveling, but she always brought souvenirs for everyone. And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. It was almost as if she had a spreadsheet with the names of everyone in that building. And she probably had it, being addicted to Excel and organization.

Bora had become one of Anna's best friends after hanging out with the team and sharing her entire life with the intern, even without being drunk. Bora said that she saw a lot of potential in the girl and always gave her work, just as often as she asked her to shop or go to the movies. She was like the big sister she never had.

Sitting next to them, Daniel Wu read quietly, for the tenth time, Harry Potter. He was quiet and smart, always checking to see if anyone needed anything. Anna did not understand how he was still single. He was as handsome as he was polite. When the company started to grow, he stopped riding in the car to take the subway and the bus together with the whole team. It was his way of remembering the company's roots, something very different for the chairman of a company.

Anna admired it in him, never forgot where it came from. She often bought whole meals for the company and made sure everyone felt welcome, from longtime employees to the birds on the terrace. Maybe that's why the whole company felt like a huge family, due to Daniel's quiet and sure effort.

Ahn Namjoon was the only one missing, nothing they were not used to. He was not often late, but he was always the last to arrive, and when he did, he was never empty-handed. As the manager of the boy group Kingdom, he was the oldest of the team and the director of the managing team too. He always had some unusual idea that solved everyone's problem, he was someone who lived outside the box.

Anna had met his family at a barbecue and could tell that she cared for the boys in the group just as she cared for her son. Just as she took care of herself and Hyunsik as if they were older children. He was the one who had hired Anna, saying he had the potential to build the entire company. If anyone had catalyzed the company's growth, it was him. More often than he would like, he said that Anna and Hyunsik were a couple as good as popsicles in the summer.

Analyzing that scene well, she could understand why she liked that reality so different from his dreams. Nobody was normal in that company, just like her, but everyone worked to grow the company and each other as well. A coexistence that added, like a healthy family. It was not the family she was born into, but the one she chose to love.

Hyunsik helped her organize the things she had brought to the meeting, while Namjoon finally arrived with a box full of sweets and snacks, hoping to turn the meeting into a brunch. "Sorry for the delay, I couldn't help bringing these brownies, they just came out of the oven!"

From a distance, they almost looked like a happy family at their weekly meeting. Life could have hit Anna in the face a lot, but she would have done it all again just for that moment. "Anna, please tell me you got a place for the girls," Bora asked as she bit into the cupcake with more frosting, getting a judgmental look from Daniel for eating the candy before it was salted.

"I got it last night! It's just a ten-minute walk from here, two blocks from a supermarket and one from the pharmacy. It's a townhouse with five rooms and a terrace that they'll love! We can take them there as soon as the cleaning is over, probably tonight. I drafted how they can get organized in there too. " she showed the papers excitedly, ignoring Hyunsik's concerned look.

"Always proactive, huh?" Namjoon praised, trying to eat a chicken salty without dropping crumbs on himself. "Great! I'll check with the film crew if they can record their reaction. If it's not good enough for the show, at least we can keep it as a souvenir." Daniel started to write things down in his pocketbook as he spoke. "We should take them out to dinner beforehand, so we can celebrate the start of this new phase of their career. Anna and Hyunsik, can you handle this?" Both nodded, nodding excitedly.

"Namjoon, can you take charge of taking the judges to practice before filming tomorrow morning? I'm worried that Elle still doesn't feel comfortable enough to get back on stage." Namjoon agreed, while everyone worried in silence. It was like a secret that ran within the apparent perfect family, everyone knew, but nobody commented on it. "I'll take some brownies to cheer you up." He smiled and packed the candy from the table.

"Great. Let's hope there are no more problems to solve by tomorrow morning" Bora summed up the meeting, looking at his cell phone watch and swallowing that morning's fifth candy. "One fam, fighting!", And with that she got up and hurriedly left the room, as usual.

"Well, it's time for me to leave too." announced Daniel, after smiling at his friend's attitude and picking up his book along with a box of oatmeal cookies. "Thank you so much for breakfast. If you need me, you know where to find me." before walking out the door, now ajar, he turned to the table. "And Anna, after taking care of the girls, goes home to sleep. A great job also needs a night's rest, and we're going to need it to its fullest tomorrow." He smiled and left the room.

"He's right, we can't debut these girls if you fall exhausted in the hall. Hyunsik, after escorting the girls to the celebration dinner, take her home, please." Jimin asked, hurrying to finish an argument that would have no end if it depended on Anna. Her persistence was great for the job, but when she became stubborn, no one could stop her. "Anyway, as soon as they finish cleaning their new house we should go over there to examine the route. Namjoon, after finishing Prism's comeback schedule, take them to lunch, and they worked hard for it."

"We agreed to celebrate at dinner, I already booked their favorite karaoke room. Wheenie will spend the afternoon with you in the studio finishing recording the solo, Moon is finishing the choreography for the final survival stage, Stelar is getting ready for the recordings. of the new drama and I asked Hyejin to rest before tomorrow ". The older man remembered, earning a smile from the CEO, amused by his own distraction. "And that is why I will never work without you! Anna and Hyunsik will be able to take care of the trainees and organize them in the new house then? Or Kingdom also has some schedule that I don't remember?", He laughed at the joke itself.

"They will be rehearsing for the final stage today as well, but nothing that requires my presence. I can follow Anna and the girls without any problems." He shrugged, proud to have released his schedule for that day. "Great! Anna, if you can move on to Hyunsik how the dorm will be organized, I appreciate it. Do we close our meeting then?" Everyone waved, standing up. With a smile and a nod, Jimin left the room with three boxes of food that he would probably take to the recording studio and would support him for the rest of the day.

Namjoon opened the door for the youngest and headed for the dance studio on the third floor, beginning another pleasant day at work. Anna went to her table, followed by a concerned Hyunsik, almost like a puppy. "I thought about separating them by age, so they don't have to worry too much about formalities and any problems they encounter can be easily solved ..."

"Anna." Hyunsik called out worriedly, failing to interrupt her friend. "I know it is not what they are used to, but I think it is a good idea to help them interact independently from the group that is formed. After all, in this industry, any friendship is essential for their mental strengthening ..."

"Anna." She tried again in vain to stop the train of thoughts that kept flowing. "I'm more concerned with the younger ones, if they don't debut they will be extremely frustrated, if they debut it will take a lot more than someone normal their age. I'm worried about Hiyori, Lyra and Seoryu too. They are the oldest, they are probably thinking that if they don't debut now they won't have a chance and- "

"Anna!" The girl was interrupted by Hyunsik now holding her shoulders and turning all her attention to him. After realizing the position they were in, he released her and took a deep breath. "I won't scold you about how important it is that you sleep, I know you don't want to hear that." The girl took a deep breath of relief. She liked her friend's concern, but she just wanted to worry about leaving the girls well, and if she needed to sacrifice every night's sleep for the next six months, that was what she would do. "If you want to check on them, I'll just see if the boys need anything else. I'll meet you at the studios as soon as I can, okay?" The girl waved smiling, earning a smile back. "And don't worry about dinner, I know the perfect place for us to go together!"

Anna's eyes shone with anticipation, there was only one place that would accept booking the entire restaurant for so many people in the nick of time. Omma Jigu was her favorite restaurant and went whenever she had money, she would never forget how Hyunsik's mother welcomed her when she joined the company as if she were her own mother, let alone all the dumplings she took home that day. Smiling and jumping with joy, she headed to the second floor to find her future protégés. She hoped from the bottom of her heart that the girls would feel as welcome in that place as she had, and hoped even more that, regardless of the outcome, they could feel welcomed by the family that that company had become over the years. Even if some of them could not make their debut at that time, she knew very well that they would not be abandoned. After all, inside his briefcase he contained a plan B for each of them.

[georgemackayhey]

More Than A Night Out

warning: Explicit content 18+ Only

w/c: 5k

───※ ·❆· ※───

You sat behind the roped off a section of a smoke-filled bar in one of Vegas' most hectic hotels, sporting a fancy dress and feeling a bit anxious.

"I'm George. And you're who I'm supposed to be introducing myself to, right?" He stood leaning in close before you clad in a casual leather jacket with his hands shoved in his pockets. Reading body language had become a much more important part of this job than you'd once figured. But there was a difference between assessing and staring. And you had to catch yourself on the edge of openly gawking at the lean beauty who called himself George.

"Yes, yes, thanks for sparing some time for a chat." You smiled warmly, scooting to the corner of the curved red vinyl booth. George let his nervous grin flicker into a warmer expression as he slid in to meet the opposite corner of the table.

You were a writer for an independent magazine based out of New York. Your publisher had sent you all over America to interview all kinds of talented people of current pop culture. You were used to celebrities and their lingo, and you were used to the pseudo niceties these interviews came along with. After answering your questions with nothing but pride, your subjects would leave and go on being popular. It was your job to make them seem like normal human beings, with an overload of charm.  

In your lap, a hardback notebook held all your hastily scribbled questions that you thought up in preparation for this moment. You were meant to ask George MacKay how his latest film had changed his life and about his rise to fame. You were supposed to get him to gush about acting and tell you some beautiful antidote no other interview had managed to hear the likes of. Your job tonight was to focus on George's latest project, 1917. But George asked the first question.

"So you've been doing this a while, huh?" The man with sky blue eyes asked. A waiter had breezed by, sliding a list of drinks for you pair to choose from.

"I only ask because the bio in your email was like, really impressive. I don't know if I'm worthy." George laughed, gazing at the beer list as you shrugged. You had conducted conversations with the likes of many old, jaded stars. Tonight was different. A young, spirited man sat across from you and his eyes were shining right into yours. You were completely unworthy.

"Don't worry. I'll only write exactly what you say." You smiled, eyeing the mixed drinks, but only ordering water when the waiter came back by.

"What's been your craziest interview?" George wondered, propping his chin in his hand as he looked to you like a boy in school, and you were a fireman on career day. You laughed out loud, because yes. You laugh because you were supposed to be asking the questions.

"I made Axel Rose cry." You grinned, peeking behind a strand of your hair to ensure this wasn't something you went around telling everyone. "He was the guest during a benefit for our magazine. I asked about his family and he just sort of lost it."

George laughed out loud, beaming at you. So far, this felt more like riffing with an old friend of a friend. You nearly forgot about the list of questions in your lap. But even after you cracked open your notebook, George still had more to say.

"With the right questions, I bet you get a lot of dirt." He rose a pale brow as if there was something he was trying to get you to understand. A code he wished you would crack.

"You should let me ask you a few." You mused, leaning in a little closer to establish your longing to get this show on the road. Not that you wanted the night to end sooner. You could have basked in the glow of his blinding smile for all time. But you were on a clock...

George watched your mouth move as you asked him about 1917. He looked you in the eyes when he told you his favorite memories from set. You watched his hands move around as he explained the impact that acting out such a tumultuous time period had on his personal and professional life. In the lulls in between conversation, when he paused to sip his lager, your eyes met each others. It was by far one of the more enjoyable nights of your career. He was easy to listen to and very lovely to look at.

When the clock struck midnight, and your notebook was filled with more information than you'd even consider finalizing, the night ended. With smiles and genuine thanks, you parted from the grotty Vegas bar. But as you made your way through the casino, you turned back to see George lingering near the elevators, watching you disappear into the crowd.

___

Up in your luxurious room, too nice for someone to stay in all alone, you checked your phone. You had a flight to catch in the morning, travel that would put you home right in time for the weekend.

But a dark email loomed at the top of your notification bar. Your flight had been delayed due to weather, a wicked snow storm had taken residence in New York. Seriously, this late in February? The airline had given you a limited few options for later flights, and you slumped on the downy hotel bed, booking the soonest flight out of this trashy city.

Looked like you'd be spending another day hanging around the hotel that felt more like a small city of its own. Luckily, you had something, rather; someone to write that would keep you pleasantly distracted.

___

Last nights silky was totally worth sporting in front of your modern-day movie star crush, but you were glad to be more comfortable this morning. After a long scalding shower, you slipped into reasonable leggings and an old band shirt that was a few sizes too large. This could pass as sporty, right? With thoughts of fashion draining from your head, you grabbed your laptop and started a lazy shuffle toward the lobby of the hotel.

You usually wrote in coffee shops, back home, but the lobby swarmed with tourists was a little too hectic for your liking. Luckily, you wandered to the opposite wing of the lodge and found a relatively cozy nook outside of a casino. It was too early for the swarm of gamblers to distract you with drunken cheers, but the stead buzz of well-groomed patrons coming and going from the bar was white noise music to your ears.

You nestled into a chaise lounge chair by a window and ignored everything besides your laptop screen. There was nothing that could stop you from spending a little too long scrolling through George's fan tag on Instagram. When you finally started to outline the story based on his interview, you were one hundred words from your limit of one thousand, and you still hadn't said everything you wanted. You could have gushed over his polite and charming nature long enough to take up every page of the magazine you worked for.

But you reigned yourself in, reworded for a while, and started to finalize the article when a passer-by disrupted your work for the first time in a couple of hours.

"Is that about me?" It was him.

"Oh my God." You laughed, clutching onto your laptop like an instinct. You were shocked to see George again; dressed in a fine-looking sweater that made your heart buzz with a silly warmth. You cursed your leggings and wondered why you were stupid enough to wear your old thrift store Bowie tshirt in public.

"Can I read it?" George grew a wicked grin, moving to sit at the foot of the chaise you occupied. You scrambled to straighten your poster as your heart speed up in search of an excuse. You really shouldn't let him do that- but you couldn't say no to his sweet face, especially when he was smiling right at you.

"Uh..." You glanced between George and the laptop you'd been staring at for far too long. You realized that you were one spell check away from sending the damn thing in. You pressed the spellcheck button in a flash, so you wouldn't have to lie. But no errors were found, and you were left with zero choice.

"Just know I shouldn't be doing this." You warned, scooting your laptop away with a cringe. George, in all his charm, waggled his brow at you as he leaned in a little closer to read your story. You held your breath at his silly expression and ceased to breathe the entire time his eyes locked onto your laptop screen.

"This..." George spoke up after a very scary bout of silence. He shook his head as his eyes scanned the page on your laptop, and you felt your heart begin to stall.

"You actually, like... listened to what I had to say," George smirked in unmistakable disbelief. "It's so much more than a Q&A. You drew conclusions and made our conversation into a story. It's perfect." George glanced up to you for the first time in a while, and his eyes were searing into yours.

"Geez," You chuckled nervously, digging your nails into the stitching on the cushion below you. "Thank you, George. I never really get feedback like that from anyone I write for." You realized. Sure, you're articles we're promoted by the people featured in them, but they hardly ever had a direct comment on your work.

"When is it coming out?" George wondered, leaning on his elbow, looking up toward you. You leaned toward the laptop that was the barrier between you and the pretty man, but were closer to him than ever before.

"I just have to change the font..." You noted, pressing buttons as you spoke.  "open my email..." George's eyes eventually flickered from your face back to your screen. "and send it in."

"Would you like to do the honors?" You grinned, moving the cursor over the send button on the screen. George gazed back to you with a hearty chuckle but didn't waste much more time before clicking the send button for you.

"And now we wait." You shrugged, wrapping your arms around your waist as the handsome man smiled your way. Oh if you'd only put on a little lipstick...

"How should we pass the time, then?" George wondered in a curious lilt. "Oh, let's go drink one of those thirty-four-ounce margaritas to celebrate. It's the perfect occasion to day drink." Was he kidding? Because you weren't entirely sure if you were being punk'd or not, you tried to hide your wide-eyed reaction as you responded.

"I'm hardly dressed for the occasion." You grinned, shutting your laptop.

"If it's any consolation, that bar is empty right now, besides there's a lady asleep in the back in her clothes from last night." George pointed across the way. There we're people flooding the casino and taking their drinks to gamble. There was no way you were about to pass up this opportunity.

In the blink of an eye, you were sitting at a bar top, turned toward each other to share a ridiculously overpriced thirty-four-ounce strawberry margarita out of honest to God silly straws.

"This should actually be illegal."

"Do you remember the prohibition, George?" You laughed, watching the blended ice travel through the purple looped straw as you sipped.

"Of course not." George laughed incredulously. "Just because I lived through the war doesn't mean I'm that old."

"Ha ha." You mused, wondering why it was so easy to be around George. You'd just met him, but from the moment he opened his mouth, it was like you'd been chatting together for years. It was like he saw past the questions you were being paid to ask, and heard you asking them. Maybe just because you really did want to know his answers.

"I want to know what you've lived through," George demanded, taking a turn to drink out his straw from the margarita you'd been sharing. He'd been asking questions like that since you'd met him, and your chest blossomed with nerves as he peered up at you through his lashes. In your nervous scramble to give George an answer, your brain settled on a story about the first time you met Will Smith.

"Wait, wait, wait." George broke away from his green silly straw and held a dismissive hand out in front of you.

"We're off the record now, y/l/n. I want to know the real shit! Ya know, the last time you cried. Your Chipoltle order." George was waving his hands as if his questions were obvious. You laughed out loud, throwing your head back and relishing the moment you realized how lucky you were to be living in this moment.

So you reluctantly told him some things. You couldn't justify giving your best details away, but you liked the idea of a stranger knowing you the worst thing you did in second grade, and a silly trademark your family coined. George kept his brilliant gaze set on you, and you could almost see your own stories coming to life in his eyes. He was actually listening to you.

The focus on you was becoming a bit too overwhelming, so you shifted to ask George a few more questions, tipsy enough to pry for a few of the same antidotes George had asked you for. After laughing over a few fun facts about his hometown and the time he ran away from his mum in the supermarket, you both settled into silence. You were busy trying to compute how wild this afternoon had turned.

"How long are you staying?" He asked after a beat. When he caught your attention, you realized he'd never lost it and you'd been staring at him like you longed to do last night.

"Oh uh-"

"I was gifted tickets to one of those Cirque shows and my friend's flights got canceled.. So... I thought maybe... you'd wanna..."

"I... sure." You sit up straight, trying to bite back the cheesy grin on your face. You weren't sure how you ended up here in Vegas, sharing a drink with a stunning boy, but you thanked your lucky stars as George went one telling you the details he'd roped you into tonight.

___

The storm in New York had only gotten worse, as you scrolled through updates on your cities local website. Your flight was supposed to take off tomorrow morning, but the storm hadn't let up since the last flight got canceled. You decided now wasn't the time to worry, and went about tearing through your suitcase praying you'd find something nice enough to wear.

You exchanged room numbers, agreeing to meet up at George's tonight. You had more than enough time to get ready but still scrambled to present yourself as perfectly as possible. Agreeing to a night out with George was as lucky as you'd ever been.

After shimmying into a pretty outfit and fixing your makeup just right, your phone buzzed with a notification. Your editor had sent you the final edit of the story you'd written for George, praising you for a job well done. You couldn't help but giggled as you skipped down the hall on the way to George's room, three stories higher.

"Hello, love! You look wonderful." George smiled wide as he opened the door, gesturing for you to come in. His single room was much like yours, a living area and kitchen big enough to house a family, and a bedroom off down the hall. Vegas confounded you.

You rested your room key on a desk near the door and watched George slide into a sharp blue jacket, bringing out the shine of his matching eyes. God, how did he get better looking by the minute?

He escorted you from his suite with a coy grin as if your outing was scandalous.

"Your interview should be published next week. My editor loves it." You informed, walking in step with George to the elevators.

"Of course they do, you're an incredible writer." George pulled a face as if this were a fact everyone knew. You pushed the elevator button with a roll of your eyes, unsure how to handle his outlandish flattery.

"All because of the answers you gave me. You're an incredible subject." You fawned, feeling brave enough to in one fleeting moment.

"Then we make the perfect pair," George smirked at you, keeping his eyes on yours as you passed into the elevator doors. Your legs must have figured out how to move on their own because you felt a bit stunned still by the look in George's eye after his soft comment.

The Cirque show was just across the street in another hotel. But because Vegas was insane, it took you a solid fifteen minutes to cross between traffic and a packed hotel lobby to get to the venue inside. By the time you and George settled into your seats, you felt all too unworthy of what was happening.

"Thanks again for bringing me along. I don't know how I got so lucky." You huffed a nervous laugh, trying not to openly swoon over how close you were to the boy. His leg was just barely far enough away from brushing against yours, and you were meant to sit there like it was totally cool for the next hour.

"Trust me, I'm the lucky one." George nodded, turning his head toward the stage as the lights went dim. Your heart was beating a mile a minute and during the first few minutes of the show, all you could truly focus on was how close George was to you. You felt like a schoolgirl on her first date, and reprimanded yourself for letting your feelings get this way.

But halfway through the show, something astounding happened. It was more thrilling than all the acrobatics and dance numbers happening on stage before you. George let his fingers bloom across your palm before they fit perfectly between yours. He sat holding your hand with his eyes fixed on the show, while you tried to keep from melting off the seat into a puddle.

The show ended and you walked out of the theater together, quietly flooding out into the street that was somehow busier than before.

"Thanks for that. I've only been to Vegas for work and have never had time to do the cheesy trashy fun bits."

"Me either." George looked to you and you could tell he was brewing some idea behind his sparkling eyes. Just then, his full name was called out from somewhere beyond your shared gaze. That's when you realized you were still holding his hand. You took a step back, untangling your fingers when you realized a group of drunk college students were excitedly asking for George's photo. You watched from a few steps away and swallowed the silly blooming crush you couldn't shake. What happens in Vegas stayed, right? Maybe you were both just blinded by the ancient ideal.

But when the fans disbanded, George didn't waste a beat slipping his hand back into your grasp.

"Let's go have some fun." He waggled his brow the same as he had hours ago, smirking all the while.

You proceeded to drink and laugh and gamble and dance into the early morning. Your evening became a blur of flashing neon lights and booming bass notes. Even in your alcohol-fueled daze, you fully felt George's fingers linger on your shoulder as he led you to and from the dance floor. His touch was warm and steady and the only thing that made sense in the night full of fast-paced fun you had no time to process.

On the walk back to the hotel, reality threatened to seep in as your feet burned in your heels. When you realized you left your room key in George's room, you felt no shame in taking your heels off and walking the hotel carpet with a little more ease. "I'm all for a movie night in but that was so much fun."

"Me too. Let's have a movie night next." George grinned, wasted as you were.

"Yes!" You fawned in exhausted excitment.

He led you into his room where your room key sat waiting where you'd left it. But the thought of walking one more step made you want to cry. So you asked if George minded if you sat for a moment; settling on the tiny loveseat giving your feet a break and talking yourself into the last bit of walking toward your room.

Yeah, big mistake. Before you knew it, you were totally passed out there and slept soundly on the sofa in a room that wasn't yours. When you woke up and noticed your shoe's near George's by the door you felt so embarrassed for having crashed like that, your weak hangover trumped by shame.

"Shit." You mutter, quietly moving to sneak toward the door. Your cellphone rested on the counter next to your room key. But as you reach for your things, you hear George shuffle into the room. He's dressed for a new day in a plain button-up and suit jacket.

"Oof, I'm really sorry for falling asleep." You cringed, grabbing your room key, a little afraid to look right in George's eye.

"It's alright really." He nodded. "It was so late, I don't know how you slept on that little thing. But  I didn't want to move you and make it weird." George kind of grimaced, hoping his comment wasn't as equally unwelcome as he seemed to think the action might have been. "I'm sorry you don't have to leave just yet."

"I have a flight, actually." You frowned suddenly, wishing you didn't have to leave this place you hated a day ago. But as you unlocked your phone to make sure you weren't too late, there we're a slew of emails from your flight agency, canceling your morning commute again.

"And now I don't have a flight."

George's phone seemed to buzz to life at the same moment, it was a new day after all. He glanced at his notifications frowning the same as you just had.

"Well I was going to invite you to breakfast but I've got another meeting added to my list of a ridiculous amount of things to do today." George sighed.

You knew the fun would have to come to an end sooner rather than later, he was a busy guy, an increasingly important, beautiful, busy guy. And you were stuck in Vegas all over again, without much to keep you occupied from how much you'd grown to love it here, just a little.

"Maybe we can have that movie night if I get back early enough." George smiled, leaning over to retrieve his shoes from the doormat. You couldn't believe George had remembered your off the cuff remark from early this morning, but somehow his comment felt more like a raincheck, than an invite. And whether you were hungover or paranoid, you couldn't tell.

So you took the cue to gather your things, opting to carry your shoes and stood in the doorway.

"You know where to find me, then." You offered, too afraid of agreeing right off and seeming too desperate to spend more time with him. You wished George good luck with all his movie star duties for the day and sulked on the long walk back to your shitty matching room.

___

Your day was spent ordering room service, exhausted by the idea of going back out and about in all the madness that made up Vegas. You scrolled through a measly list of flights to take, opting to stay another night and hoping the storm would pass soon. Soon, the sun was setting and after a long bubble bath, you slipped into your favorite pair of pj's, planning to listen to some podcasts to make the most of this evening. But just as you finished cleaning up, a knock came at your door. You hadn't ordered more room service, and there was a sign dangling from your door handle warning away the maids.

You were surprised to find George on the other side of your door, looking happy to see you. You honestly hadn't expected to see him again, you thought your luck had run its course. And you spent the whole day trying not to reminisce over the way you'd grown more comfortable near each other as the night went on.

You greeted him with a smile, comfortable enough in your pj's when you noticed he was wearing joggers now, too.

"You shed the suit?" You laughed.

"I figured if we're having a movie night I better dress for the occasion," George smirked. You hung your head to hide your blush and opened the door wider for him to come in all the way.

Okay, so maybe you had failed to plan this far ahead, but you hardly cared what happened next. You and George floated to the sofa in front of the television, and he reached for the remote.

“Have you memorized the tv guide yet?” George prodded as you sat next to him, leaving a sliver of space for good measure.

“I’ll have you know I’ve been far too busy running around the city this weekend.” You smiled, turning your gaze toward the television, too skittish to meet George’s baby blue eyes this close up.

He clicked his tongue as if to say “what a shame” all while flipping through channels. He landed on Hallmark, tossing the remote down ceremoniously. You couldn’t help but laugh as the movie seemed to just begin.

“Is that Betty White?” You chuckled.

“You’re welcome.” George boasted over getting lucky finding this film queued up perfectly for the two of you on this spontaneous night. You spent a little bit laughing over the cheesy musical flares and dramatics that made up every great Hallmark film, this one included. But as the film played on, you couldn’t help but notice the bits of genuinely good storytelling peeking through.

George kept you laughing throughout the film, but near the end, both of you got quiet and watched in silence until the credits rolled.

“Damn. That was actually just a little bit good.” George spoke up, a little quiet. That’s when you noticed how close he’d gotten to you. The sliver of space you’d left at the beginning of the movie was now barely noticeable.

“Yeah.” You laughed, amazed by more than just the film. “This whole weekend has been surprisingly wonderful.” You spoke softly, daring to glance right at George, who had already fixed his eyes on you.

You couldn't tell who made the first move but the next thing you know, you're kissing him. You and George took turns sharing feather-light pecks, each of you chasing each other kiss after one ended. George was definitely the first to place both strong hands around the back of your head and kiss you like he meant it. You were nearly too stunned to kiss him back, but once you started the floodgates broke off their hinges and there was no turning back. You climbed into his lap and latched on for all it was worth because surely this was a dream and you weren't ready to wake up at all.

You savored the steady build of his fingers trailing down your arms while your kisses grew deeper, mouths pushing against each others like you’d been doing this for ages. Your hands had a mind of their own, creeping softly under the hem of George’s soft tshirt to his hot skin below.

"Hey," George gently broke your kiss and cupped your face in both hands. You practically held your breath as his shimmering eyes searched yours. "You okay with this?" George seemed to genuinely wonder. His voice was dripping with lust and his body was warm underneath yours. It didn't take a detective to read George like a book, but he still had the self-control and gentle heart to make sure you were comfortable. It only made you want him more. But you were still far too shy to say so, no matter your actions. So you bit your lip and hummed in sweet agreeance, wrapping your hands around George’s neck.

You watched George’s face stretch into a smile before he ducked his head to the crook of your neck where he let out a contented sigh before grazing his teeth along your skin. You squealed with delight when he swiftly pinned you down on the sofa to playfully pepper your face with kisses like something less heated was taking place.

"You know, now would be the perfect time to carry me from the couch to your bed." You rose an encouraging brow, reminding George of just this morning when he was too afraid of disturbing your sleep on his sofa that matched this one. George let out a laugh as he peeled himself off the top of you and picked you up bridal style in his impressively buff arms.

"Right this way, madame." George teased, carrying you through his bedroom door.

You had thrown the covers into place the best you could the last time you woke up here. George rested you gently on the bed, much like you were sleeping and he was afraid of waking you up. But your heart was beating fast enough to win a race, somehow increasing when George rested beside you, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“You’re very pretty, you know?” George blinked, whispering to you.

“I’m glad you think so.” You spoke back even quieter, reaching out to touch his face. He was so handsome it nearly stopped your heart. George leaned in for another kiss, this one slow and steady. You hadn’t felt so content in ages, you could have laid there kissing George forever and been happy. But then his fingers trailed down your side to grab your hip, and you swore you saw stars. George pulled your leg over his and now you were pressed against one another, kisses growing deeper still.

“This alright?” He asked almost timidly, as his fingers crept below your nightshirt.

“Yeah,” You breathed as George moved his kisses down your neck, and his hand to your chest. Your fingers splayed through his hair as he reached around your back to find the clasp on your bralette

“It’s in the front.” You giggled, feeling George smile against your skin.

“Very cute.” He hummed in your ear before kissing your jaw and finding the button. He shoved your shirt most of the way off, and you had to move out from under him to remove it all the way. Before settling back against the pillows, you pulled off George’s shirt so you could revel in the warmth of his skin.

You settled in his lap, each knee on either side of his hips throwing your arms around his neck and kissing him again, somehow still enjoying each brush of his tongue against yours like it was the first time. George signed into your mouth, each pleasant groan traveling straight down your spine. You rolled your hips against his, and George’s groans grew darker.

His fingers were lost in your hair and you found a steady pace to rock against him, drawing out longer whimpers from his lips with each new movement. Soon, his hand toyed with the drawstring of your shorts and he had to break away from your kiss to ask if he could take them off you could only muster an encourageable nod as your breath got caught in your throat. George laid you back, keeping those stunning blue eyes locked on yours all the while, only breaking away when he slid the last of your layers off. His fingers slid slowly between your legs as he laid next to you, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You’re so fuckin’ pretty. How’d I get so lucky?” George spoke, you could feel his breath ghost across your lips while he went on building up the tension in your stomach. It didn’t take long for you to fill with fire, a contradictory chill shooting through your system. You couldn’t take it any longer.

“George,” You sighed, opening your eyes to look at him again, “need you.”

You watched his eyes go dark as he slowly moved away from you, slipping his joggers off and slotting himself between your legs.

“You’re sure?” He asked one final time.

“Please.” You groaned, placing your hands on his shoulders to brace yourself. With one last kiss on your lips, the Disney prince type, he pushed into you. If you thought the noises George had made before were beautiful, the ones he was making now could’ve moved you to tears. He found your hand and held it with one of his while the other slipped below your belly button.

Your heavy sighs and desperate moans synced up and you rode your highs on the edge of one another. George didn’t move off the top of you right away, instead, he stayed there with his face buried in your hair soaking up the quiet moment.

“That was wonderful, love.” George whispered in your ear as he fell to your side. You turned to face him, biting back a yawn.

“You’re wonderful.” You sleepily smiled. George pulled you against him then, and you rested your hand on his chest so you could feel his heartbeat. The steady rhythm puts you to sleep in no time.

___

The next morning came late, and the Vegas sun shone brightly through the space between the curtains you forgot to close.

George was still by your side, but you’d drifted apart in the night. So upon noticing his eyes were open and glued on you, you felt no shame curling up next to his side.

"This has been the longest one night stand of my life." You sighed dramatically, comfily resting your head on his broad shoulder. George was quiet for a beat and you were a bit worried you’d upset him. But then he spoke up, with a gentle voice saturated in sleep.

"Wanna see how long we can last? I don’t think I wanna stop waking up to you."

How could you say no? You’d spent the whole weekend saying yes to George, and look where it had gotten you. So you agreed to stay one more night in Vegas, hoping what happened there would last a lifetime.

───※ ·❆· ※───

Requests are open ♡

[thirsty-x1]

Midnight Softness | Han Seungwoo

Request:

hi can i request a one shot fluff where you just want to cuddle with seungwoo at home?

↬ Pairing: Seungwoo x Reader

↬ Genre: Fluff

↬ Warnings: too much softness

↬ Word Count: 1.5k

“I just miss you a little...” You were sitting on your sofa, knees against your chest, skipping channels with one hand whilst the other held your phone.

“I miss you too. What are you doing now?” Your boyfriend’s voice made you feel a little better, getting to hear him was better than nothing.

“I’m searching for a movie or something like that. Wouldn’t it be nice if you came? We could watch a horror film.” You remembered how the members in Victon said that Seungwoo enjoyed going to the cinema on his own, but when it came to you, he really just wanted to do every single thing with you by his side.

“A good one or a bad one?”

“They are all pretty good at being bad.”

His laugh on the other side of the line made you smile. You missed him so much... The schedules were killing him (and you) but he was working so hard and all that hard work was showing up. He was finally getting the recognition he always deserved and you were extremely happy for him, even if it meant that you two didn’t get to see each other often. Still, he made sure to talk to you every single day, no matter how busy he was. You kept talking with him for a while, until you noticed his voice was a little bit off.

“Are you feeling fine?”

“Huh? Yeah, why you ask?” His almost immediate reply made you suspect.

“Your voice sounds breathy... Were you exercising or something while we talked? You should get some rest.”

“Ah, I’m fine really, nothing like that...” Yet his breathing still sounded quite irregular, until you heard a car honking through the phone.

“Are you on the streets? You silly, shouldn’t be on the phone! What if something happens to you?” You were referring mostly to getting robbed or stalked by fans.

“I can take care of myself, you know? I’m a big guy.”

“Yeah, sure.” He liked giving weak and soft vibes, even if he had the body of a Greek god. Well, you couldn’t deny he was indeed the softest boy you had ever met, but maybe that was a little biased statement.

“I have to hang up now, but I will talk to you soon, yes?”

“Mhmm, take care, yes? I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.”

Silence surrounded you again. You pulled on the sleeves of the hoodie you had on, Seungwoo’s cologne still on the fabric. Turning up the volume of the movie that was playing, you started to pay attention to the plot, which made you feel even worse. It was all about a long distance relationship and how it slowly faded away, the feelings disappearing although they still cared deeply for each other. What kind of bullshit was this? Did Netflix really recommend this to you, right now? The disrespect.

You got up and started making some popcorn, the popping sound distracting your mind for a bit, your chin being held by your hand. Maybe some music would lift you up... You played the song that never failed to lift you up, and after the first chorus you were already tapping your fingers to the rhythm and slightly dancing around. There was no use in being sad and feeling down, right? Seungwoo was doing his best so you should too and support him. After one spin, you thought your heart was going to come off of your chest. At the second spin, your eyes got teary. And in the third one, strong arms held you close.

“W-What are you... How...”

Seungwoo shook a set of keys in his hands, the one you had given him a few months ago. It was the first time he used them to surprise you like this. Throwing your arms on his shoulders, you giggled and pecked his lips, his ears turning slightly red at the unexpected motion. A weird smell filled the air, making you remember about the popcorn, letting off of him to go and turn off the stove.

“You should buy the microwave one.” He hugged you from behind, laughing at the few burnt ones.

“These ones are more entertaining, besides this wouldn’t have happened if my boyfriend hadn’t materialized from the air.”

“Oh, yeah? Well your boyfriend missed you too much so asked permission, got denied and snuck off anyway.” Your eyes opened wide.

“What do you mean?! They are going to kill you!” He laughed again, this time holding your face between his hands.

“I asked Seungyoun to cover up for me, he is quite smart and creative, I’m sure he can hold them for a few hours.” His fingers poked your cheeks and tried to make your frown disappear, which seemed to work.

“Jeez... You should be more careful, you dummy.”

Now his lips kissed yours, a huge smile spreading on his face as he grabbed the bowl behind you and went to take a seat on the sofa, patting his thighs as if he had been waiting a long time to make that one action. You shook your head but still walked up to him, cuddling up on his lap as his big frame took over you.

You two searched for a movie and decided on one pretty fast, but to be honest, you didn’t watch two minutes of it. All you could do was admire him and his pretty features. His sharp jawline, his wide mouth, the way his glasses looked when slowly sliding down his nose and the way it scrunched whenever he tasted the taste of the burnt bits of popcorn, his bangs barely covering his eyebrows and forehead, the lightly smudged eyeliner on the corner of his big eyes, the way his dark eyebrows raised whenever one of the scenes turned into a plot twist, his sweet stare when he noticed you weren’t watching the screen at all, his fingers feeding you the pieces of popcorn that weren’t burnt. He was so pretty, and it felt unreal to have them right there with you, smiling in that unique way he did, his laugh vibrating against his chest, the slight squeaking sound making you giggle as well.

“Is there anything on my face?” He mocked you, tongue out as he let out the bowl aside to hold you.

“I love you so, so much.” Your declaration took him by surprise, a dumbfounded expression making its way on his face and his shoulders hitching up in the cutest embarrassment ever.

“I love you too, y/n. So, so, so much.” His touch felt tender as he played with the hem of his hoodie, another smile spreading on his face when he noticed that you wore his clothes when he wasn’t around. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent and leaving a soft kiss there, only to go back to stare at you again. “I missed you a lot, and I know I said it before but I will repeat it a thousand times more so get used to it.”

“I will never get tired of listening to you~” The way cooed made him feel all fuzzy inside, pinching your cheeks and tickling you, all at the same time. You were so cute in his eyes and sometimes he felt like squeezing you until you exploded in a million of confetti. Healthily, of course.

“What do you want to do now?” His soft voice sending warmth all over your body.

“Being like this with you...” Your fingers played with his hair, parting it gently so you could place a gentle kiss on his forehead. “This is all I want and all I need.”

“You are so cheesy.” You scoffed at him, flicking his forehead and running away, knowing he would catch you after a few steps anyway, a loud squeak leaving your lips as he lifted you up in the air making you spin around a few times before putting you down.

“You are cheesier... Trying to pull a Romeo by coming here.” Seungwoo made a fake hurt expression and let his weight fall on you, using it as an excuse to hold you closer.

“I liked seeing you dance before, but would you dance with me tonight?”

There was no need to reply anything, you simply started swaying with him softly, the music from the ending credits fitting perfectly with the whole situation and making you feel the star of movie where everything worked out, dancing at midnight with the man you loved as if nothing else mattered, and honestly? There was nothing else that you considered more beautifully soft than the moment you two were sharing right now.

I am not crying. Also, Seungyoun fucked up and Seungwoo had to run all the way back to the agency where his ass got beaten. He liked it tho. He is planning bringing it up to you some day.

~Nani

unedited

[bloopbyoop]

weep woop

ayo. ive read my scheduled email and its time for freewriting shit again. lmao. I want this post to be like a small light from a lit match stick inside a very hollow, icy, and numbing cave. (sounds cartoonish right? I know. Im obsessed with Adventure Time.) I want all people to be genuinely happy.  Spiritually, emotionally, and physically. Upon reaching my 24th anniversary in this world, I finally learned how to truly embrace all my emotions. Some are more overwhelming than the other, but we have to heed in our treacherous yet perplexing minds that everything is fleeting and we are in control. The feeling of extreme sadness fades, but so does joyful states. Everything can change in a matter of minutes or years. You are in control of all your emotions. You are in control of all your life choices. Your actions. Your words. Your perspective. It feels weird to actually write about it. I've wanted to talk about it. I never wanted help from anyone as I firmly believed that I was alone. Sure, I have a family and friends, but it is hard to see that when your head is clouded with negativity. I've even come to the point where I was too overwhelmed, I found being physically hurt less painful. The pain I felt distracted me from what I was thinking. My mind tended to go bonkers. lmao. But bro, I was so good at concealing my bonkers mind. It's easy to fake any emotion that you have. Slap anything sunshine-y or happy to anything and people would believe you. It went on for years. Long story short, thousands of bracelets collected, it became worse. The physical pain could no longer withhold the emotional pain. Couldn't sleep. Couldn't stop thinking. And voila! I found a good amount of self help books (from tumblr) and novels. Novels that brought me to different places. Self-help books that made me understand what I feel and what to do. I've read that taking the easy way out will leave everyone sad. AND IN THE FIRST PLACEEEEEE, I NEVER WANT THATTTTTTT. I want everyone to be happy. I would act foolish and do dumb shit to make everyone happy in a heartbeat. So, that idea made me push a few more years. Later on, the crippling shit came crawling back again to my head, sooooooo I needed new shit to keep me distracted again. Films, series, music, and short clips from YouTube helped me out a lot. Every single time that my mind is going to think like anything that can think of, even to the point that I was just going to think that I might be hungry, I'd watch something. There's just something about silence for me. Because of this new habit of mine, I've learned more about myself. I love different types of things. I like horror. I like thriller. I like comedy. I like romance. I love all types of films, but there is something about the horror genre that interests me. I still can't point out what, but I love watching horror films. With regards to music, I've learned that I love Indie, Punk Rock, Rap, and Pop. We all can't like a specific genre. It's stupid to ask "what genre of music do you like?". It's not actually stupid-stupid, it's just stupid. Ya know? Anyway, passing this phase, I needed to find something again because it's not doing the shit that it was supposed to, I tried investing more time on video games. By investing more, I mean a whole shit lot. I love video games since I was young cuz.... u know.... they keep u... try to guess it! oh yeah. you got that right! distracted! I love the aggressive plays and trashtalks that my friends and I make. The short stories we tell one another. The rants. The lame jokes. The late night we sound drunk but we are not drunk jokes. The roleplays. The lame jokes. The memes. And once again, The lame jokes. Something about lame jokes and the laughs and curses after that always gets me every single time. Oh shoot. Yup Yup. Few years later, I finally noticed the pattern that my sadness is temporary. I got over it one way or the other (or another. depends on how you wanna read it. i dont wanna say another cause i might write about one direction like what im doing now so-). Happiness is temporary as well. But, we are the ones who are actually in control of our emotions. If you wanna feel sad, be sad for a while. You're getting too sad? Try hanging out with your funny friends. Can't do that? Find an alternative. Watch a movie, knit a sweater. Anything your mind could think of as long as it will keep you mentally distracted from being physically and mentally hurt. I do have a few notes though. We cannot and should never assume what people are going through. It may be petty for you, but it may be very crucial to them. So never everrrr say things like: -Some people have it worse than you -At least you have ..... These sheetsss are annoying as heckkk and could really down someone. I know it is not your intention to annoy but people react differently. alsooooooo, it is not okay or normal to hate on things for bandwagon. that is just plainly crazy and stupid. let people enjoy things. anddddddd never suppress your emotions. admit what you feel inside and try to think of a way to resolve ittttt. keeping it to yourself will just make it worseeeeee. find your own outlettttttttt. hihihi ️ alsooooo. being more spiritually full with God's words and ideas really help me to be spiritually happy. ps. im christian but i dont discredit other religion and even applaud other religion's ideas and beliefs. this is a really long, selfish post so i might as well recommend some things I like : Songs with their lyrics that made me go through life. “I’ve got soul but I’m not a soldier” -All These Things That I've Done, The Killers “It's not too late, I'm still right here” -Breaking Your Own Heart, Kelly Clarkson "And the salt in my wounds / Isn't burning any more than it used to / It's not that I don't feel the pain / It's just I'm not afraid of hurting anymore / And the blood in these veins / Isn't pumping any less than it ever has / And that's the hope I have / The only thing I know that's keeping me alive" -Last Hope, Paramore “There is not a single word in the whole world / That could describe the hurt / The dullest knife just sawing back and forth / And ripping through the softest skin there ever was / How were you to know?” -Hate to See Your Heartbreak, Paramore "It's holding on, though the road's long / And seeing light in the darkest things And when you stare at your reflection / Finally knowing who it is / I know that you'll thank God you did" -1800, Logic "Did some things you can't speak of / But at night you live it all again / You wouldn't be shattered on the floor now / If only you had seen what you know now then" -Innocent, Taylor Swift (My bb) "10 months sober, I must admit / Just because you're clean don't mean you don't miss it / 10 months older, I won't give in / Now that I'm clean I'm never gonna risk it // Rain came pouring down when I was drowning / That's when I could finally breathe / And by morning gone was any trace of you, I think I am finally clean" -Clean, Taylor Swift “I guess I always knew / That I had all the strength to make it through.” -Believe in Me, Demi Lovato "I'm addicted to the madness / I'm a daughter of the sadness / I've been here too many times before / Been abandoned and I'm scared now / I can't handle another fallout / I am fragile, just washed upon the shore / They forget me, don't see me / When they love me, they leave me" -I Hate You, Don’t Leave Me, Demi Lovato “I'm overwhelmed / I need a voice to echo / I need a light to take me home / I need a star to follow / I don't know” -Nightingale, Demi Lovato "I'm a walking travesty / But I'm smiling at everything. // Arrogant boy, Love yourself so no one has to." -Therapy, All Time Low "I tried it once before but I didn't get too far / I felt a lot of pain but it didn't stop my heart. / But maybe I'm alive 'cause I didn't really wanna die / But nothing very special ever happens in my life / Take the blade away from me I am a freak, I am afraid that / All the blood escaping me won't end the pain / And I'll be haunting all the lives that cared for me / I died to be the white ghost / Of the man that I was meant to be" -Ghost, Badflower "Are the pieces of you / In the pieces of me? / I'm just so scared / You're who I'll be / When I erupt / Just like you do / They look at me / Like I look at you" -DNA, Lia Marie Johnson Movies and series to try : -The Perks of Being a Wallflower (The book is bomb af. if yall havent tried, ur missing out) -The Kings of Summer -Never Let Me Go -The Art of Getting By -Silver Linings Playbook -Winter’s Bone -The Lovely Bones (The script. The words) -Me and Earl and the Dying Girl -American Horror Story -Black Swan

pps. remember that every one has their own pace and point of view. don’t push yourself too hard, and don’t overthink. give yourself time, and respect all your emotions. analyze them but not more than like 5 minutes as anything beyond that might cause you to overthink and be sadder. and sad is not rad. hehe. you got this. you got you. self love is the best even though it can be tricky to do. nobody else is like you. you’re the only one of you (i just remembered me.......... i might have hummed it while typing it mid sentence). consider other people’s opinion but do not let it cloud your own judgement as you know yourself best. dont let other comment’s define you. spread love. vibe people you vibe with. ayeeee lets go!!! 

ppps this is my last post bc im happier now and know myself better. i no longer limit myself on the age that I want. I want to live as long as how God wants me to be. hehe. 

x :D

[twittytelly]

An Unexpected Gain

Chapter Two – Bathroom Surprises

Colin Shea X Female Reader

Previously...

Series Masterlist

A/N:Hi! Remember when I said this was going to be a two-parter? I lied. This is going to be at least three parts.

Warnings: Swearing, slight sexual and vomiting references, idiocy.

Mood board by @imanuglywombat​

“Y/N?”

You were quickly pulled from your thoughts as Colin's voice reverberated through your apartment,  the aroma of pizza quickly hitting your nostrils. Had the pizza from Seb's always smelt so strongly, or was this some weird pregnancy thing? You pushed the thought to one side, as you got up from where you had installed yourself on the bathroom floor, regretting ever giving Colin a key so he could stop by whenever he wanted.

“I'll be out in a minute.”

You looked in the mirror and cleaned yourself up, trying your very best to conceal the fact that you had spent the past few hours sobbing on the bathroom floor. It was pointless. You looked like shit. Your eyes and nose were red, you had dark circles under your eyes and to top it off you were green around the edges from the nausea. Wasn't this meat to be MORNING sickness? Taking a deep breath you failed to still the five million thoughts that were racing through your brain. You knew that you had to tell him, but you rationalised that you needed a day or two to process this – what use would it be if you were both freaking out?

Using every ounce of courage within you, you slowly exited the bathroom and made your way to the living room, where Colin was waiting for you with the offending pizza and your favourite beer. You would've been touched by the gesture if you were not internally freaking out over how you would have to explain not being able to drink it. Before you had time to think too much, Colin looked up, his happy-go-lucky smile turning into concern.

“Is everything okay Y/N?”

Despite your resolve to try and keep it cool, you couldn't help but to break down, the tears you were trying to force back were now running amok down your cheeks. Concern turned to worry as Colin got up from his seat, making his way towards you.

“Oh Y/N” he said dejectedly, wrapping his arms around you. You couldn't help but melt into his embrace as you sobbed into his shoulder. Colin wordlessly comforted you as he held you tightly, swaying you from side to side. You couldn't help but imagine him doing this with a small bundle of blankets as  it wailed in the middle of the night. Eventually the sobs decreased into whimpers and Colin pulled away from you. Placing his fingers under your chin, he gently lifted your face until your eyes met his bright blue eyes, as they silently probed you for an explanation.

“I've had a really weird day and I feel like shit,” you truthfully explained, praying he wouldn't question you further. “And I'm really sorry, but I'm really not in the mood to do anything tonight -  if you want to go I won't be offended,” You said apologetically, before quickly adding on “not that you could ever want me when I look this horrendous.”

Hurt flashed across Colin's face as he placed both hands on either side of your face. One hand started to wipe away the last few straggling tears, while the other tucked a stray wisp of hair behind your ear. “Y/N our arrangement is more than just the sex. I love hanging out with you Y/N. You really mean a lot to me” he confessed. “You know I'm always gonna be here for you if you ever wanna talk abut anything or you need a shoulder to cry on” he affirmed, giving you that same small sympathetic smile he had given you many months ago on that fateful night in the bar.

“Thanks Colin” you said, returning the smile as he brought you into a bear hug, the butterflies beginning to swarm in your stomach. “And for the record, you always look so beautiful” Colin said quietly. You were convinced that you heard the smallest hint of vulnerability in his voice. Your heart started to thud against your chest, and you hoped that Colin couldn't feel it. No. You must have imagined it. You broke away from the hug and looked into his eyes. Everything inside of you was screaming to tell him the whole truth, but you ignored it.

“You're always such a charmer,” you joked, now desperate to move on from this before you spilled it all. Colin chuckled but his smile didn't reach his eyes.

“Well if you're not feeling well, why don't we eat this pizza and drink this beer while we watch something light-hearted on Netflix” he suggested. You nodded in agreement, walking into the kitchen to get yourself a glass of water before settling next to him on the sofa. Luckily he didn't question this or the fact that you were only able to stomach a couple of slices of pizza. He soon put his arm around you as you noticed that he had put on your favourite rom-com, a film that you had told him few weeks ago never failed to cheer you up. Had he remembered this or was this purely a coincidence?

You tried your hardest to concentrate on the movie, but your brain was still running at a thousand miles an hour as you tried to figure out what to do next. Colin could tell you were still on edge and drew you closer to him, fingers tracing shapes on your thighs. You let yourself relax into him and you marvelled at how easy it was to just sit in silence together. Soon enough the credits were rolling, but you were not ready for Colin to leave.

“Stay with me-don't think I wanna be alone p-please” you sputtered. For some reason you felt completely exposed. You usually didn't have any problem telling Colin your deepest desires, but this was different. Despite you not telling Colin about your situation you couldn't help but feel that something had shifted between you.

“Of course” he smiled as if it was obvious that he was going to stay with you. As you turned off the TV he got up from the sofa and held out his hand for you. Nervously you took it and let him lead you to your bedroom. As he stripped down to his boxers and you changed into your comfiest pyjamas, you couldn't help but feel how intimate this was. Sure you hadn't even kissed, but there was something oddly domestic about this. The pair of you climbed into the bed an snuggled up to each other. After exchanging your good nights, the air was soon filled with Colin's gentle snores.

As you lay awake you couldn't help but imagine various different scenarios. Colin's hands placed on your swollen stomach as he felt small kicks against your belly. Colin watching you adoringly as you fed a small baby in the early hours of the morning. Colin comforting a crying toddler as they climbed in between you, recounting their nightmares. You smiled at the images in your mind as Colin's warmth enveloped you and you succumbed to sleep.

-

Your alarm dragged you awake after the best night's sleep you had in ages. You grumbled as you turned the alarm off  and pulled yourself out of bed, careful not to disturb Colin. Colin's work in a local recording studio coupled with the fact he was often playing gigs late into the night meant that it was often nearly lunchtime by the time he'd get up. You made your way to the bathroom and had a shower. It was here you resolved to call in sick at work and go to the doctors. Talking about your options with someone impartial seemed like the most reasonable option and once you had figured things out, you would tell Colin everything; giving him the space to be as involved as he wanted.

You were making breakfast, when Colin emerged from your room. You couldn't help but grin to yourself as you noticed how adorable he was half-asleep with his short, brown bed-hair all over the place. Colin looked at you and gave you a sleepy smile that made your heart skip a beat.

“Would you mind if I used your shower?” he asked sheepishly.

“No, go ahead.” You replied turning back to the kettle to finish making tea for the both of you.

However as soon as you heard your bathroom door close it sprung open again as Colin rushed back to your bedroom. He was power-walking to your front door cradling his clothes in his arms.

“Sorry just remembered that I have to be somewhere.” he rushed and before you had a chance to respond, your front door slammed shut and he was gone. You thought it was a bit odd, but you brushed it aside; it was not the first time Colin had forgotten an early morning recording session. Besides, you had more pressing matters to think about.

-

Later that day, you returned home from your doctors appointment; a weight partially lifted from you. Talking things through with the doctor had helped with your anxieties; but what had cemented your desire to keep the baby was hearing the heartbeat during the scan. You couldn't help but cry again, but this time they were happy tears. But now came the hard part. Telling Colin. As you racked your brains about the best way to tell him a wave of nausea hit you and you sprinted to the bathroom.

You were trying to get the vile after taste out of your mouth by brushing your teeth, when something out place caught your eye. You turned to put the item back in its place when you froze, a wave of terror crashing over you.

“Oh no, no, oh fuck no!” You exclaimed to no one. It was the pregnancy test. That's why Colin had acted so strangely and left so suddenly! God why were you so stupid?!

Well that was it, you had to tell Colin now. You hoped he wouldn't be too mad at you for keeping this from him. Maybe if you explained to him that everything had happened in less than twenty-four hours he would understand. Clutching the picture from the scan you made your way to his apartment. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on his door. After what felt like a lifetime, Colin slowly answered the door in nothing but his boxer briefs.

“Hi” you said nervously, “do you mind if I come in? There's something that I need to talk to you about.”

Colin almost looked guilty as he opened his mouth, but before he could utter any words a female voice beckoned from his bedroom

“Are you coming back to bed Colin?” the voice asked seductively “you promised me a least one more round.” Horror spread across Colin's face.

“Y/N I can explain-”

“It doesn't matter” You interrupted “I think I might have made a big mistake.” Before Colin had the chance to respond you turned and ran back to your apartment, fighting back the tears that were threatening to spill.

-

Thank u, next

-

Tag you’re it: @whiskey-cokenfanfic @mrs-captain-evans @captainrogerrspumpkinslut @supersoldiersruined-me @southerngracela @katiew1973 @kelbabyblue @amiquette

[red-pill-blue-pill]

Talk to me. Keanu reeves.

A/N: This is my first request ever (for @celestiaelisia) and I hope it meets the standards 💖

Word Count: 3337 (more or less I've edited this like a thousand times dude)

Summary: You work as assistant director in the John Wick 3 set and everything is quite shitty in your personal life.

Warnings: Body shaming (your coworkers shame you because of your weight so if it’s triggering for you please don’t risk it. You are all beautiful no matter what.), angsty angst.

Sunset Boulevard was crowded with tourists, as always. You walked fast, making your way through, you had no time to waste. You needed a new job. You had moved to LA a year ago. The relationship with your parents was hanging by a thread. You were a reckless teenager often getting yourself into trouble. Everything started when you stuck up for yourself in high school, people blamed you for the fights that happened and the director had to call your parents every other week. That's when you started skipping school, staying late out and fighting endlessly with you mother. The only support you had was your older sister. She had always been by your side in every tough situation. You came to her to seek comfort, to joke around, to cry your eyes out. She was everything to you, the only thing that prevented you from leaving. One day the situation got out of hands and you just had to run away. Your first option was LA, the city of dreams, or so people said. You'd wanted to be a movie director since you were a little girl. In high school your highest grades were the photography and audiovisuals ones, it was a vocation. When you arrived you rented a room in a small apartment with two other girls and looked for a job in the film industry, soon losing your hopes as it was a lot harder than it seemed and sticking to waitressing while looking longingly at the hollywood sign instead.

You had just been fired from your latest job. You were waitressing in a cheap dinner down town. Greasy food, watered down coffee and terrible tips. But life kept on going and rent wasn't going to pay itself so you had to keep on looking for another job. Looking online you found an opening as assistant director for the third John Wick movie. You experience in the field wasn't impressive so you didn't think much of it besides applying and keep giving out resumes at restaurants and dinners. Deep, deep down you still had a little gleam of hope that told you they would call you. Surprisingly, they did call, and the first thing you did was phone your sister. When you told her she got even more excited than you, she had always believed in you and even though this was just a little step she knew it was the beggining of a succesful career.

The filming had started a couple of weeks ago. Being in New York felt pretty rad. You walked effortlessly around the set, giving out the day's scripts, delivering clothes door to door, bringin everyone their cup of coffee... it almost seemed like you floated around. No one knew how you managed to do all of that by yourself. Sure you had some coworkers with the exact same work as you but they would rather spend their time sitting around doing nothing. Truth is you loved this job. You loved having the opportunity to meet actors and actresses, learning about directing and producing films and keeping your mind busy. You always carried around a little notepad to write down all the tips the director and the producers gave you. Your coworkers saw you as the ass-licker assistant and considering how people praised you for your good work, their hatred for you grew and grew each time someone complimented you. At first, you didn't care, you knew you had been working hard and that you deserved to be recognized for that. However, when the first insult came you knew it was going to be be harder than you thought.

"Hey fattie, why don't you bring me a coffee." one of your coworkers said as you were about to exit the trailer the director had assigned for all of you to take your work breaks in. You turned around to look at him, shocked by the words that had left his mouth. Your cheeks turned a bright red color and the other colleage sitting next to him stiffled a laugh. You were trying to process what had just happened, memories of high school came rushing to your mind like a shit tornado. This was too familiar. Sure, you were overweight but after all the bullying you had endured as a teen you finally thought of yourself as an intelligent, beautiful and sweet individual. You knew your weight didn't define you and you certainly didn't care about what others thought of you. However, hearing that "nickname" again made it all come back: the insecurity, the shame. You opened your mouth to answer but nothing came out, your brain replaying in loop how your classmates yelled insults towards you in the halls and how the girls teased you in gym class. Your eyes watered and you rushed out of the trailer, slamming the door behind you and trying to get away as fast as possible. You ran between the trailers, in search of yours. You picked up your phone to give a quick call to your sister, to ask for advice. You let it beep a few times, her answering machine spoke and told you to leave a message. "Hi sis, I was just calling to get some advice. It's been a couple of days since we last talked, hope you're okay. Give me a call." You hung up and kept walking fast.

“y/n!” 

You cursed under your breath as you heard that familiar voice calling you. You dried the few tears that had escaped with the back of your hand and put on the fakest smile you could, hoping he wouldn’t knotice your flustered face. You turned around and waved as you saw him approach you “Hey Keanu!” 

He tried to steady his short breaths “Wow you almost outran me there.” he chuckled. 

“Well, be careful grandpa.” you said holding back a laugh. He looked at you with eyes wide open as he laughed hard. 

“You offended me with that one I must say.” He stared at you with a playful grin and you felt your heart pound in your chest. 

He was wearing his John Wick suit and a few fake cuts on his face and the only think you could think of was how good he would look without that suit. Yes, maybe you had a little crush on him. Of course you did, who could resist him? After a couple of weeks of shooting you two had gotten pretty close. He was such a sweet man, he always listened to everything you had to say and he was really fun to be around. You just wished he would ask you on a date and hold your hand and kiss you. His voice got you out of your little daydream. “Anyways, I came to ask if you wanted to grab something to eat after work.” Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. “Sure!” you said trying to play it cool.

-

Weeks passed by and the mean comments just got worse and worse. "Disgusting" "Why don't you go to the gym fattie" "That shirt looks too tight on you we can see your rolls." No one on set knew and you planned to keep it that way. The shame was already unbearable and if everyone found out it was going to be even worse. Your self steem was slowly dissolving, leaving you feeling like an empty carcass, a shadow of the person you used to be. Outside you were still the same, no one noticed something was wrong, but inside you were an anxious mess. You feared everytime you had to walk on set, everytime you had to go out. You felt everyone's eyes on you, where you once had seen admiration you saw judgemental stares that burned on your skin. You started declining Keanu's invitations to go out to eat, coming up with shitty excuses you knew he didn't buy. You isolated yourself instead, crying you eyes out in your trailer, wishing to hug your sister and get that comfort you so desperately needed. She hadn't returned any of your calls and it all was adding to your anxiety. Was she alright? Had your parents finally convinced her to stop talking to you? On top of that you were messing up the friendship you had managed to build with Keanu. How could a girl like you be so delusional as to fall for a man like him. He would never see you as anything more than a good friend, if you were still friends that is. You were pushing him away, just as you always did. It hurt like hell. Tears started flowing again, harder this time. You were sure people walking by outside could hear you sobbing but you didn't care.

Keanu walked by your trailer to get to his and he stopped in his tracks when he heard you sobbing. He was starting to worry about you. He didn't know if you were trying to avoid him because you wanted to end your friendship or if there was something wrong in your personal life. Either way he wanted to find out. He enjoyed spending time with you, he always had fun when you were around. He thought of you as a bright, fun and beautiful woman who didn't give a fuck about what others thought of her. Your strength and sense of righteousness were the things he loved the most about you. The way you stuck up for what you believed in was admirable. That bright and cheerful side of you was already fading and he had noticed from the first moment. Keanu wasn't the type to intrude in someone's personal matters but when he heard you crying he knew he had to do something, he just had to think the best way to approach you.

The next day went by as always. You made small talk with the crew, talked to the director and producer to write down some notes about what they told you, and tried to avoid Keanu as much you could. You had caught him staring a couple of times and you just waved as you walked away. Fast. You knew he could sense something was off and you feared what would happen if he found out. "Maybe he'll join them. Or maybe he'll just laugh at you for being so fucking weak." Your mind whispered as your eyes welled up with tears.

Your trailer door closing behind your was the sweetest sound to you. It meant you were safe from the outside world, no one could mess with you in your safe space. Unless...

Your phone started ringing, breaking the silence of your small house. You ran to pick it up thinking it your be your sister but instead a male voice spoke. 

"Hello. Are you y/n y/l/n?" 

"Yes. And who are you?" You said, your heart rate rising up dangerously. 

"I'm you sister's husband." Silence took over the phone line. He was waiting for some kind of reaction that never came, so he spoke again, sniffling lightly. "Its all happened so fast. One day she was fine and the next one she had to be hospitalized and when you didn't come I assumed your parents didn't even call you-" he rushed his words. 

Your breath hitched and your head suddenly felt light "What?" You mumbled

"She passed away last week. Today was her funeral. I'm so sorry."

The phone fell to the floor. Suddenly everything felt like it was spinning in circles. Your heart threatened to come out your mouth and the tightness in your throat made it difficult to breathe. You fell to your knees with a loud thump. You opened your mouth to take a deep breath but a scream came out instead. A raw pained scream that tore apart your insides.

-

Keanu was smoking a cigarette outside his trailer. The weather was good considering it was winter and if he smoked inside the smell lingered on the bed sheets which he actually found pretty nasty if he thought about it. He was staring at New York's lightning, his thoughts lost in y/n, thinking about her behaviour. He blew the smoke and watched as it mingled with his condensating breath and danced in the cold air. The night was silent which was something strange in New York City, it felt almost peaceful. He finished the cigarette and walked to a nearby trash to throw away the butt. A pained scream cut the silence and echoed in the trailer zone. Then silence. Then another one followed. He turned around and started running towards where he thought it came. His heart was pounding in his ribcage, fearing the worst thing. He could tell who was the source, he would’ve known from a thousand miles away. 

He busted the door open and found you there, sitting on the floor with your arms wrapped around yourself as you screamed all your pain away. 

“y/n!” he kneeled on the floor next to you and hugged you tight. “What happened?” he said over your screams, worry obvious in his voice. He rocked you back and forth while he whispered sweet nothings into your ear, trying to get you to calm down so you could talk to him. It took a couple of minutes but you managed to stop screaming, turning into a crying mess as you slowly wrapped your head around that phone call. 

“My sister.” you said sobbing into his chest as he rubbed circles on your back. “she passed away.” as you let out those words total realization hit you and the tears started flowing faster. 

“I’m so sorry, love.” Keanu planted a kiss on your hair as he let you cry a little more.

When you managed to calm down -or maybe when you ran out of tears to spill- you took deep breaths and Keanu’s voice flooded your ears 

“Are you hungry?” you shook your head no and he just sighed “Okay. I’m gonna grab some stuff from my trailer to spend the night here. I’ll be back.” 

You moved off his lap and he stood up. “Keanu” you spoke, you voice sore and broken “It’s okay, really, you don’t have to stay.” god, you were a terrible liar. 

He smiled sweetly from the doorway “I know i don’t have to, I want to. Now wait for me, it shouldn’t take longer than five minutes.”  When he closed the door you let out a shaky breath and pinched the bridge of your nose.

He was right, he was back five minutes later with a bag full of food, a pile of blankets and some movies to watch on your laptop. He was an actual angel. He put everything down and sat next to you on the small couch, staring silently at you. You gave him a questioning look. 

“I know you don’t want to but I need you to talk to me. Open yourself up. I know something’s wrong.” he reached out to hold your hand. “Okay.” you took a few seconds to prepare yourself. 

“Since I started working here my coworkers had been shaming me because of...” you used the hand that keanu wasn’t holding to gesture to your body. He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah. Anyways, it’s affecting me a lot, that's why I avoided you, I didn’t want to make you feel embarrassed." He sighed relieved now that he knew you didn’t want to end their friendship but it hurt to think you really believed he was embarrassed of you. 

“And then there’s my sister.” you choked on your words and Keanu knew not to push it. He hugged you again. 

“Who’s shaming you?” he said against your hair. His voice had turned serious, a kind of seriousness you’d never heard from him, it was almost scary. 

“No Keanu, there’s only a couple of weeks left I can deal with it.” 

“Tell me.” he pulled away to look into your eyes, his gaze so intense you felt he was looking right into your soul. 

“The other assistant directors.” 

“Okay. I’ll take care. Are you sure you’re okay?” he checked once again.

You nodded. It wasn’t entirely true. You just didn’t feel anything at all. Pain had been replaced by nothingness and the void in your chest was even more consuming than the anxiety. 

“Do you want to take a shower?” 

You raised an eyebrow and he quickly corrected himself. “No, no I didn’t mean it like that.” his cheeks turned rosy and he thanked god for the dimly lit room. “A shower usually helps me relax a little.”

“Yeah I guess I could use a good shower and fresh clothes.” You stood up and walked to the small wardrobe, picking your pijamas and fresh underwear. 

“Will you be okay?” Keanu asked from the sofa as you were about to close the door. The white light from the bathroom shone on half of your face and for a first time he could take a good look at your red puffy eyes and flustered cheeks. His heart broke at the sight. He still thought you were beautiful, your plump cheeks screamed for him to kiss them and he had to resist the urge to just run to you and do it. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll call you if I need something.” you said smiling weakly at him.

-

You opened the door, steam flooded the small living-room, the scent of your shampoo invading the space. You stepped out of the bathroom, your hair still wet and your hairbrush in your hand. The wet trails of your tears got lost between the droplets of water that still lingered in your eyelashes. 

“C’mere” He said opening his legs and motioning you to sit down on the floor between them. He took your brush and started gently brushing your wet hair. He untangled the loose knots on your hair, the feeling of his hands caressing it making you hum with delight. This was by far the best moment of your day, maybe even the best moment of the week. 

The brushing stopped too soon for your liking and his hands dropped to your shoulders, massaging softly. “Do you want to watch a film or eat something?” His voice was soft, as if he was scared to startle you, and it felt velvety in your ears making your eyelids feel heavier than they did before.  

“Can we just go to bed?” that was the only thing you really wanted to do, leave this day behind as fast as posible. He nodded softly standing up and offering you a hand. You took it and stood up too, leading the way to the bed in the back of the trailer. You lied down with Keanu next to you. His fingers intertwined with yours as his thumb rubbed circles on the back of your hand. 

“y/n” he whispered into the dark. You hummed in response. “I don’t know if I’m overstepping here but you’re beautiful.” you felt your face heat up at the comment. “What I want to say is, your weight doesn’t define you and you are one of the most cheerful, bright and amazing people I’ve ever met. Don't anyone tell yoy otherwise.” He raised his hand still intertwined with yours and kissed your skin softly.

You felt a tear slid down you face. “Hug me. Please.” You turned your back to him and he spooned you. His arm was around your waist and his face was in the crook of your neck. His beard tickled you and his breathing was hot on your skin, his lips kissing your neck every couple of minutes. 

 “I would never be embarrassed of you, if anything, I'll cherish and adore you every day of my life.” he mumbled against your skin. You didn’t know what to say so you put your hand over the one he was resting on your belly and gave it a little squeeze. “Tomorrow will be another day.”

He was right. The thought of getting up tomorrow was dreadful to you but you had to push through, for yourself, for your sister, and that, with Keanu by your side, seemed a little easier. 

[captainchrisfics]

Jealousy

About: Chris Evans and a first person pov reader go to an awards show. The couple runs into her celebrity crush on the red carpet, causing Chris to develop a bit of a green-eyed monster. A heated argument ensues... followed by an equally heated reconciliation. 

Word Count: 2,873

Warnings: language, arguing, and implied/mild sexual content.

Don’t get me wrong, celebrities rarely surprised me anymore. Once you see Scarlett Johansson hanging out in your living room, you just start to get used to it. When Anne Hathaway comes up to you and compliments your boyfriend for his latest film, you think that’s as good as it gets. I thought that too- well, until Ryan Gosling was about an arm’s reach away from me on the red carpet.

“Chris,” I hissed through my teeth as I smiled, trying to draw the least amount of attention as possible. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ryan walk towards the next interviewer. My grip tightened on Chris’s arm, pulling him with me. “What’s wrong?” Chris asked, moving his face as little as possible. It was always hilarious- how his eyebrows scrunched together and his eyes squinted, making his smile look so much more like a grimace on the red carpet.

“That’s Ryan Gosling,” I said like I still couldn’t believe it. Suddenly, a microphone was in my face. “What was that?” an interviewer asked. “Are you a Gosling fan, too?” I usually didn’t like to answer so blatantly, but I was already caught off guard. I tucked a fallen piece of my updo behind my ear and said, “Of course. With his blonde hair and those blue eyes, he’s just gorgeous.” It came out breathier than I intended, but I wasn’t even looking at the camera. I couldn’t stop staring at Ryan, just a few feet away.

“What do you think about that, Chris?” she asked, shoving the mic toward him. Chris cleared his throat, bringing attention to how tense he’d grown. Chris scratched the back of his neck and forced a chuckle, trying to play off how uncomfortable he was. I didn’t think much of it considering he was always pretty uncomfortable on the red carpet. “I mean, she’s still on my arm right?”

I patted his arm, trying to calm him down. It was a terrible joke but the interviewer laughed anyway. She said something about how he might have to keep bleaching his hair even though his Cap contract was up, which Chris laughed at just to be nice. I tugged us away again, hoping we could catch up to my celebrity crush.

Eventually, at the end of the media circus, we ran into him. Well, I did. I had locked in on my target and failed to calculate exactly how fast I was going and (more importantly) how much time I would need to stop. That’s how I all but tackled Ryan fucking Gosling to the ground. As I apologized profusely, he steadied me with a hand on my waist. “Moving a little fast there,” Ryan said, smirking at me. I giggled and glanced away, trying to hide my blush as I offered another feeble apology.

Behind me, Chris cleared his throat. He grabbed my hand, shoving the other in his pocket and puffing out his chest. Chris had this hard look in his eye I’d only seen him have in that Scott Pilgrim movie. Needless to say, I didn’t like it. “Almost lost you,” he said, pulling me into his side. When Chris wrapped his arm around my waist, it felt more like he was trying to hold me back.

“Glad you found me,” I responded. I rubbed my arm out of a nervous habit, feeling a bit awkward. Ryan looked between the two of us, reading the situation seamlessly. He held up his hands in surrender and smiled in an attempt to ease some of the tension. “No worries here man. It’s been nice to meet you both,” Ryan said calmly, taking a couple steps back. Then he turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

“The hell was that about?” I asked Chris, all but stomping my foot. I don’t know what brand of toxic masculinity he had for breakfast, but there’s no excuse for being so possessive. Chris sucked on his teeth and avoided my angry stare as he tried to come up with anything that would sound rational coming out of his mouth.

Chris shook his head. “Later,” he said, effectively ending any conversation. In another circumstance, I would’ve pushed him harder to talk, but these events stressed him out enough as is. I could always give him hell later, but right now he didn’t need me to be another problem on his plate. Don’t get me wrong though- I was planning on giving him hell.

Chris was extremely quiet. Usually, after the media fiasco the red carpet offered, he relaxed. We spent events like these making jokes to each other, coping with how crazy all of it was and relishing in the dream we were living. Instead, I sat as far away as I could from Chris without falling out of my seat. His silence was even more deafening amidst the stars around us as they talked and laughed with each other all around us.

His stone face only cracked when he was nominated for an award. All the cameras were on us so we smiled and held hands while the announcers created tension and I hoped the viewers wouldn’t notice our unease. The last thing I needed on top of a moody boyfriend was an internet shit storm.

Chris won and, no matter how annoyed I could be with him, I was overwhelmed with pride. Even in our worst moments, we remained supportive of one another. I always reminded myself that it wasn’t Chris against me or vice versa- it was the two of us against our problem. I stood up almost faster than he did and pulled Chris in for a kiss by the lapels of his suit, hoping it conveyed exactly that. The frustrated crease between his eyebrows hadn’t faded, but that didn’t stop Chris from mouthing an ‘I love you’ in my direction.

I sat down again, watching him accept the small statue as he grinned at the audience. “Wow…” Chris looked at the gleaming award again before facing the cameras. It gave me a sinking feeling in my stomach, thinking about how he seemed so much more relaxed and happier on the stage- like a weight of sitting next to me evaporated despite hundreds if not thousands of eyes on him.

Chris launched into his acceptance speech, thanking everyone involved in the project, his family, and then me. I hated how a part of me questioned if it was just for show. He thanked me for sticking by his side and my first thought was if it was meant to be some sort of jab. I shifted uncomfortably but smiled nonetheless, knowing someone’s camera had to be on me.

I thought closing the front door behind me and blocking out the rest of the world would be a relief, but it was just more nerve-wracking. Neither of us were in the mood for an after party so we came straight home, though I don’t know if we thought this through. Now we were alone and not quite sure where to go from here.

I wanted to yell at him for being such an insufferable, pig-headed idiot. For embarrassing me in front of everyone like that. For shutting me out all night. For even thinking I’d want anyone other than him. I had countless reasons I’ve been coming up with since the red carpet, but it was almost like the air was too thick for such angry words.

We stood in front of the dresser in our bedroom, taking off the glitz and glam and turning into a normal arguing couple again. I mean, how many people got into fights over meeting your celebrity crush on the red carpet and had to wait until after an award show to talk about it? I think we both felt pretty bizarre. “So, are we going to talk or…?” Chris asked tentatively, tossing his suit jacket on to our bed before working on his bow tie.

If it were possible, steam would’ve come out of my ears. That ‘us against the problem’ shit was out the window. “Don’t you dare ask me if we’re going to talk as if I’m the one giving you the cold shoulder, Christopher,” I fumed at his reflection, tugging on my heavy earring probably harder than I should to get the backs off.

Chris, who was still struggling with his bowtie considering I was usually the one taking it off, nearly choked himself by tugging on the left. “I’m sorry,” he said sarcastically. “Is that not how you and Ryan argue? Maybe I could apologize until I turned blue and then we’d kiss and make up. Would that be better?” I wanted to strangle him, but instead, I reached over and pulled the right side of the tie.

“I can’t believe you just went there,” I said, my voice coming out louder than I intended. I began taking the bobby pins out of my updo. Before he’d even gotten his belt buckle undone, Chris shot back, “Trust me, I just went there.” I grunted through gritted teeth, taking out my frustrations with Chris on my hair. He reached over and twisted the pin just right, causing the curl to fall before throwing the clip onto the dresser.

“You’re such a jealous ass sometimes, you know that?” I yelled, sending the last of my pins flying across the tabletop. We made eye contact in the mirror, but I could still see how red my reflection was turning. “Please, tell me about it,” Chris said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. I ripped a makeup wipe out of the package, scrubbing furiously at the mascara and eyeliner under my eye as I assured him I would.

“You are! I’d never even seen Ryan in person before, but wow I find one guy other than you attractive and suddenly it’s the silent treatment,” I said, feeling like my blood was boiling. I was on a roll now. “Oh, and don’t even get me started on that jab about my commitment in your speech! That was a low blow, Chris, especially considering all I did was say sorry for running into someone,” I said as almost every thought cycling through my mind tumbled out of my mouth.

Chris laughed sarcastically, throwing his belt onto the bed harder than he’d tossed his jacket. “Is that what you call it?” he spat. Chris did his best to mock my bedroom eyes, twirling a piece of pretend hair and giggling like a little girl. He really aced his impression of me with some air-headed remark about getting Ryan to bed, but all I could hear was the blood pounding in my ears.

I threw out my dirty makeup wipes, trying not to pout while showing exactly how unamused I was, feeling the angry tears brimming my eyes. Chris had a look in his eye that told me he knew he’d gone too far. He averted his eyes, focusing intently on unbuttoning his shirt like it was his first time.

“Do you even see yourself?” I said quietly, running out of fire as my rage was replaced with hurt. I tugged at the exceptionally small clip holding my necklace together. Anyone who was at all familiar with those little latches shaped like crab claws knew they required the utmost concentration, which I was lacking right now. Chris moved behind me. I complied with an annoyed huff, lifting my hair out of his way. He had it off in record time, leaving the two of us staring at ourselves in the mirror.

“Do you want him?” Chris asked in a low voice like he was afraid of the answer. My heart clenched in my chest, shocked he could even think such a thing. Still, I crossed my arms and let the vindictive side of me win. “What if I do?” I challenged, failing to convince even myself. I wasn’t proud to admit it, but as I was suddenly surrounded by all of my sadness, I wanted Chris to feel a fraction of it.

Chris closed his eyes for a second and let out a shaky breath before gently grabbing my waist, turning me to face him. Now just inches away from him instead of a few feet from his reflection, I saw how blue his irises looked, exaggerated by the agitated red the whites of his eyes turned when he cried. In my anger and pain, I hadn’t realized how this fight was affecting him.

Chris caressed my face, running his thumb across my cheek. He wiped away tears I didn’t notice falling. Suddenly, with every ounce of passion he had left, Chris kissed me. It was like diving into a freezing pool, filled with the kind of water so cold it shocks all of your senses awake, and coming up for your first gasp of air at the same time. His force sent us stumbling backward until I hit the dresser. I wrapped my arms around his neck while Chris lifted me by my thighs, sitting me on top of the table with a disregard for whatever clattered to the ground to make room for me.

My hands traveled down his torso, relishing in each bump his stomach offered before slipping under the fabric of his open button-down. Chris wrenched his arms, helping me take it off. He nearly tore off his undershirt before diving back into a kiss. I tucked my index fingers in the belt loops of his trousers, pulling him between my legs. Chris tangled his fingers in my hair, moving his mouth down my jaw until he reached the soft patch of skin behind my ear. He elicited a gasp from me as he nibbled gently, testing the waters. The involuntary arch of my back, pressing my body to his as my chest rose quickly seemed to be the encouragement he was looking for.

My eyes fluttered closed as he moved down my neck, stopping to suck on my collarbone. I reached to lay my hands on his chest, loving how the muscles felt clenched under my touch. If I really tried, I could feel his heart beating rapidly. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him as close to my hips as I possibly could. Feeling him pressing against the inside of my thigh made me smug, reminding me as I came undone that he was just as affected by my touch.

Chris reached behind me, unzipping my dress. He tugged the top down so it sat at my waist before touching me over my bra. I hadn’t noticed how thin the material was until now when it was one of the only layers between us. I found the button of his pants, fumbling to release him.

Keeping one hand kneading at my chest, he slipped the other up my skirt through the dress’s slit. His fingers toyed with the lacy trim of my underwear, teasing me as he tugged the fabric down my thigh so slow it was almost frustrating. He stopped suddenly and instead traced the curve of my hips up to my chest until he reached my hair again, tangling his fingers in the strands as he kissed me again.

Chris licked my bottom lip and I complied, absolutely at his mercy. He pulled away again before I was satisfied, leaving me right on the edge. He prided himself on making me as desperate for him as I possibly could be until he gave me what I wanted. Chris traveled to my ear again. “He wouldn’t know how to do this to you,” Chris whispered so faintly, giving me goosebumps all over.

It dawned on me exactly how we ended up here. I pushed Chris away, scowling at him. “You can’t kiss me like that and make this go away,” I scolded, half-heartedly angry he’d even tried.

Chris shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck. “You’re right, I’m sorry,” he said, sounding so defeated it almost made me feel bad. Almost. He looked at me with so much sincerity in his eyes. “For all of it. I’m sorry for everything. I was stupid and jealous and shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I love you so much,” Chris professed, the words tumbling out of him like he’d wanted to say them all along. “It wasn’t cool to try to brush over it like that, but I just…” Chris trailed off, trying to find the right words. “I just wanted to know you were still mine,” he concluded, averting his eyes to the floor.

I bit my lip, teasing Chris as if I even had to think about it. “I love you too,” I grinned so big it hurt, my lips still slightly sore from the kiss. I reached my hand out to his, playing with his long, calloused fingers before intertwining mine with his. “I’ll always be yours. I don’t want you to feel so insecure in our relationship. We’re gonna have to talk about it,” I said, looking up shyly only to be greeted with Chris’s grin. It was so big it squeezed his eyes shut. “Later,” I giggled as I pulled him towards me, picking up where we’d left off.

Tagged: @patzammit

[heythrrdelilah]

Lights, Camera, Love (Tom Holland x Reader) part 2

A/N: I miss writing so much! My classes have been crazy, my Navy stuff has been crazy and i have a podcast now. (it’s on anywhere you listen to podcasts, spotify, apple, google find the link on the name: Potterworld: A Harry Potter reread podcast)  So, you can imagine why i’ve been gone. I plan on finishing out the final ship request. this weekend.  I hope you like part 2, hopefully next chapter will be more progressed and have a moodboard. Also, In my asks, i was told people don’t like my Tom stuff and would rather have me stick to Supernatural? I also plan on Harry Potter stuff so lmk what you think! 

Word Count: 2,410

Warnings: Fluff, talk of eating disorder, cheesy romantic crap (shrek...? no?) Endgame talk 

Pairings: Tom Holland x Reader

 “Pasta sounds nice. Sounds like a deal,” You smiled up at him before walking back to your seat once your mug was filled. “Black coffee?” Toms voice gently came to the seat next to you. You nod simply. “Bold. I’ll have to keep that in mind,” His voice trailed off with the sound of the directors and other actors coming in. Everyone said their hello’s and You were introduced to your fellow castmates. “So, I would just like to welcome everyone to the cast who wasn’t in before,” The heavyset man nodded towards you. The director began to do the introductions and table readings were to begin. Your scene was coming up soon, after an hour of anxious waiting. Your heart was beating fast and the fact that you were sitting in a room full of experienced, Big-Screen actors began setting into your mind. Your palms began shaking as you flipped the pages. You were nowhere near this nervous when you went in for your audition, but now there were five times as many eyes on you. Counting on you. Your breathing sped up as you spotted Gwen’s name at the bottom of the page. You were coming soon. 

“Damn!” Tom shouted in the seat next to you, he had spilled his coffee all over the floor and the ankle of his jeans. The whole room stopped and began to call Clara who had stepped out for some lunch. “Agh, I got some on your white sneakers. Lets go clean off,” Tom stood up quickly, grabbing ahold of your wrist, not letting you argue. When you got out of the room and the door closed behind you two, you spoke quickly, “It’s okay. It can come out. Plus, It’s just shoes.” He shook his head, dropping your wrist. “Forget the coffee. It was just an excuse to get you a minute to relax. I understand the nerves. Even though i’ve been on film prior to Avengers, I was extremely nervous my first table read. Read as if you were in your bedroom. Everyone will love you. You got the role, now breath, then rock their socks off,” Tom spoke calmly, looking at you intensely. How did he know you were self imploding? Were you shaking your leg too aggressively? Breathing too deeply? You wondered for a quick moment if the other actors had noticed as well, before tom responded, “I know the signs of a panic attack when I see one. So, lets do this together?” You nodded and took three breaths before going back into the room. Everyone was chatting while waiting. 

The table read began once more, when it came to your line, you looked at the gentleman, who was an absolute sweetheart so far, next to you. He nodded giving you a thumbs up and you read your lines as if you were practicing in your room. You made a mental note to thank Tom later for the advice. 

The table read went smooth, so smooth that everyone ended with chatting about plans afterwards. “So, looks like you owe us a hangout,” Tom smiled at you, placing his script into the muffin basket he had opened. You nodded, picking your basket up from the floor. “Thanks for the advice. I don’t know if I would have survived without it,” You stood up to face him. He smiled down at you, “No need to thank me. We all went through it. Besides,” He paused to smirk at you, “You were really good. Spider-gwen will be my favorite character if you keep that work up.” you rolled your eyes at him. Characters are whats written. Your acting is sub-par, at least to you, so there will be no way he could say you’re his favorite actor. You decided to change the subject, “Well, I find it interesting they even added her as an avenger. I guess after into the Spider-Verse, with Spider-Gwen becoming a trend, they wanted what will sell the most tickets. Follow the trends.” You giggled, looking up at him. “I can tell you one thousand percent, that what you just said… is a fact. Heard the PR team talking to the writers about it last press conference. Just like that Birds Of Prey was only made because of the insane amount of hype Harley Quinn received,” He answered becoming deep into the conversation. He seemed like he thinks about this kind of stuff himself. Before you could say anything in response, your felt a hand land firmly on your shoulder, and saw one on Tom’s. You turned to see Chris smiling down at you both. “I want pasta. Who’s joining?” He chimed, rubbing his stomach. “Didn’t you have 4 whole sub sandwiches at lunch?” Tom asked, looking horrified. “You should know by now, after so many times together, I eat. Let's get moving, " He chuckled,  his tone low. Tom shrugged at you, grabbing his basket and reached for yours. You shook your head and quickly took ahold of it, “I got it thanks. So, can I get the address?” Tom looked as though a lightbulb went off in his head. He shook his head, taking his phone out, “Give me your number and I’ll add you to our group chat!” You took ahold of his phone, Chris holding your basket long enough for you to enter your phone number into Tom's phone and hand it back. 

You felt your phone buzz, notifying you of the group chat. “I can actually ride in your car if you’d like to show you where our usual pasta place is. That is where we are going correct?” Tom turned to Chris, who was returning your basket. Chris nodded, smiling down at Tom cheekily. Tom flashed a glare at Chris and waited for your response. “Well, I do not drive a fancy car. Plus, wouldn’t you be leaving your car?” He shook his head at you to inform that he had a car here in the US, but he rarely drove it to work. He arrived with Chris. “Well my car is available to whoever needs it,” You awkwardly offer, moving towards the door. The two men followed you out the door. 

You all engaged in small talk on the way to your parking spot. Chris held your door open for you, allowing you to step in and roll your window down. Tom placed his basket in the small backseat, and got into the passenger seat. “See you lads there,” Chris waved through your window, allowing you to back out of the parking spot. “You can pick the music,” You stated, placing your car in drive and turning the knob on the radio to the bluetooth setting. He shook his head and clicked the knob, turning the radio off. “We are castmates and we will be spending months, to a year together. I think it’s only appropriate we learn a bit about each other,” He smiled, turning in his seat so that he was facing you, half of his back leaning against the door. You felt a flutter in your stomach. It felt like your life was a dream. You were cast in an avengers movie, driving to a cast dinner, and Tom Holland was in the passenger seat of your Camaro, asking to know you. 

“Well, I am 20, I am a nurse, well, I guess prior now that I am aware of the full-time. I have always dreamed of acting, I also had no idea I had a lead role. I was told I was here for Mikayla. That is what i had auditioned for,” You spoke, following the directions Tom had pulled up on his phone. His eyes widened, “wow, that is extremely uncool that they didn’t tell you. Did your agent know?”  You shook your head at him, “I do not have an agent.”  His mouth opened wide, “You don’t have an agent? I’ll get in contact with someone if you’d like. You’ll need one. Also, you won’t even need your nursing job after this. This is going to sound cocky, but once you star in a big screen film… it’s not hard to get another,” He explained. He was right. You thought about how many times you’ve seen the same celebrities bounce around to different films. It was rare you see new faces on the movie screen unless it was an Indie type of film. The truth was, you would probably have to resign from the hospital for this movie alone. It was good to have a sort of job security in that chance that this will be your only film. You made a mental note to talk to your boss on your way home. “Tell me more about you,” He spoke, breaking the silence, “Other than the fact you’re a raging transformers fan.” Your eyes widened and you gasped. “Was it really that obvious?” You retorted, pulling into the entryway of the restaurant. 

He stepped out of the car, waiting for you to do the same and meet him by the front of your car. “Well, bumblebee themed car, bumblebee keychain hanging from your keys, your phone screen is an aesthetic with an old bug in the fashion of a bumblebee. I would say, yes.Pretty obvious,” He confessed, eyeing you with a smirk. “Well, since you’re making fun of me, I may not let bee give you a ride home,” You walked over to the door of the restaurant and held it open for him. “Well, that is a bit backwards isn’t it?” Mark Ruffalo laughed, walking in behind you all. You let out a slight laugh and responded with a simple, “ladies first, am i right?” This caused Tom to raise his hands in defense, making the whole cast laugh. 

“The usual table?” The hostess smiled, counting the group, grabbing the menus. Chris winked at the short, copper-haired girl, “Only if it’s available.” Walking to the table in the far back of the restaurant, you could hear gasps coming from nearly every table. This made sense to you, considering they were big time movie stars walking through an everyday restaurant. The table was a giant circular booth that everyone could fit around. The lights were dim and the sound was low. Tom and Chris both let you scoot in between them. After the hostess waitress passed the menus around and got drink orders she left. “Come here often?” you ask everyone, remembering the waitress and Chris’s conversation. He pushed his blonde hair back and winked, “We love pasta.” The lack of women around the table became well known when the waitress came back and asked for everyone's drink order. The men were rattling off beer types and you heard not a single woman's voice. You ordered water and then looked down at your menu. Come to think of it, you were the only woman actor in the room for the table read. You had previously watched the Avengers Endgame movie and noticed they killed off black widow. “Do the women not come out?” You whispered to Tom behind your menu. “Well, there isn’t many left. Brie Larson will show up, however, today’s scenes did not include captain marvel so she doesn’t need to come,” He explained flagging down the waitress at the same time.

This made a lot of sense and you hoped that Tom hasn’t become annoyed with your questions. You were sure to have more because this was your first film. 

As the waitress made her way back, all of the men sitting around the table ordered their variety of different dishes. When she made it to you, you decided to go with shrimp and broccoli fettuccine alfredo. “That is a big dish, by the way. They give you a lot of food here, It’s why we like it,” Chris nudged you, chuckling. You rolled your eyes, “I eat for five. So, we will see.” Tom smirked and ordered his food as the last person at the table. He ordered the same. “Lets see who can finish more then?” Tom challenged, “Most women are frightened of carbs or go on extreme diets. Some eat and cry later while exercising daily. Which are you?” You laughed at the assumption. Tom was forgetting one thing, metabolism. “Listen sweety,” You lifted a brow at him. The whole table made loud oo’s and ah’s followed by laughing. Tom smirked at you, chuckling slightly. You continued, now smiling wide, “I have a fast metabolism. Even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t care about how I look enough to be too worried.” This was only partially true. You had struggled before with eating disorders, but as part of recovery you had to have this mindset. So far, you are a few months in and doing great. 

“So, are you from Atlanta?” Anthony Mackie asked once the food came around.  You shook your head, “I’m from (your home state/town). How about you guys?” Tom shook his head and threw a breadstick gently, at your face, “no time for that!” He picked up his fork. You hadn’t realized it would be a full on race. “Alright start placing bets,” said Cumberbatch, finishing his beer. Chris placed a 20 on the table, “I’ll go with the girl. Seems promising.” The cycle of bets began. Soon enough, the table made sound effects to mark the start. You began shoveling the absolutely delicous food into your mouth. Anything and everything lady-like went out the door. You tried savoring the flavor with every bite, but from your view, Tom was chewing quickly. You picked up your speed. 

“The lady wins!” Shouts Anthony, splitting the money between everyone who bet on you. Tom wrapped an arm around your shoulders, “I have underestimated you.” You smiled and looked to the floor. You became seemingly embarrassed of how unlady-like that was. “A woman who can keep up. I like that,” Tom removed his arm from your shoulders, letting his hand fall to the middle of your back. You felt your heart flutter momentarily. Why did this make you nervous? Even though his hand was only there for a fraction of a second, it felt like hours in your mind. You knew so far, Tom was gentle, sweet, funny, and competitive. You were developing a crush on him with every moment and you were determined to not let that happen. This was business. He was just being friendly because you will have to spend so much time together.

Lights,  camera, love tag list 

@theetherealbloom

@eridanuswave

@coni-martina

[spideyspence]

communication; peter parker

heya, this is (late & unedited) for @plushparker‘s 2k writing challenge. i hope you all enjoy this fic bc it was based on the prompt ‘i’ve been trying to talk to you all night’ and i got a little carried away. enjoy!

(warnings: the readers a dumbass in this fic but like,,, plot & angst. also there’s some violence bc there’s a fight scene at the end)

my masterlist

-

‘Peter why the hell couldn’t I communicate with you during that fight? Why weren’t you responding? I’ve been trying to talk to you all night.’ You yelled to your best friend on the top of a building in New York City.

Your best friend and you had just worked together in taking town a robbery of a bank on the Upper West Side that had been in the works of Wilson Fisk’s men for nearly a year. Peter and you had been working for hours each night, trying to plan how they were going to stop the crime. Peter was in his Spider-Man suit while you were in your own, a sleek black and purple outfit with your mask littered somewhere on the roof where you had thrown it in anger.

‘I’m sorry Y/N but I was punched, and the Bluetooth stopped working. I’m sorry that I was punched.’ Peter rolled his eyes.

He would be yelling at you too if he wouldn’t have been able to speak to you during dangerous events of that night. He was stressed because he was beginning to do more appearances at FEAST to help out Aunt May and he had a physics test the next morning he hadn’t studied for, and he was tired.

‘Those men were still stronger than we anticipated Pete. I was scared okay, I refuse to put you in danger which seems stupid because we’re a team, but you know I will always jump in front of you to save you but I can’t handle the idea of fighting on my own.’ Your lungs were starting to take in as much of the night air as they could during your angered rant.

‘No matter how much time we spent planning Y/N, they were always going to be stronger and have the upper hand on fighting. We have to rely on our ourselves and each other while they have thousand-dollar guns aimed in our direction.’ Peter said to you, his voice softer than yours.

‘You still could’ve contacted me! Karen still freaking works, right?’ You questioned sarcastically.

‘Yeah, but-’ Peter was stuck. You had a damn good point.

‘You know how important communication is, especially during a fight like that, knowing that our lives were at stake!’

‘Well if you’re going to be this panicked maybe we shouldn’t be working together!’ Peter yelled.

Silence.

It was always the two of you. Worked together on group projects in school, going to go see the new Star Wars films at the cinemas (Ned came along for a couple of them), studying, working together to take down the bad guys.

It was Y/N and Peter, that’s how the world works.

You stared at Peter, struggling to believe that your best friend would say something like that.

‘You really think that that is how we should go. Work alone? No longer help each other out?’ You questioned as you walk away to pick up your mask to put it back on to hide your tears from your best friend.

‘Y/N I- I didn’t mean that.’ Peter said softly, his voice starting to shake.

‘You seemed pretty certain about it.’ You snapped.

You didn’t want to leave your best friend. You knew that you and Peter were the best team. You understood each other’s movements. You knew that what you were about to do was completely unreasonable and stupid, but you were too clouded with your emotions and Peter’s words still racing through your head.

Peter started to slowly walk towards you.

‘Y/N, I swear I didn’t mean that. We’re a team, we always work together, and we work well. I’m sorry I’m just frustrated.’

‘Don’t bother apologising Peter, just, I’ll see you tomorrow at school.’

You turned around and leapt off the room and headed back home to get some sleep.

-

Walking down the halls of midtown, you kept your eyes focused on your locker because there was no way that you were going to face Peter.

Grabbing your books seemed like the perfect time for Peter to go up and talk to you but when you saw his New Balance sneakers next to you, you slammed your locker door shut and turned in the opposite direction, taking the longer way to your maths class.

You knew that you had to get over Peter’s words, and you knew you would eventually, but they had hurt so bad.

It wasn’t fair that Peter snapped at you just because you wanted to make sure that he was safe.

Sitting in maths you didn’t make eye contact with Peter. You had made the mistake of looking at him once and seeing the pain in his eyes made your stomach turn.

-

During lunch you didn’t talk to Peter, you just sat there reading your book, not taking in any words that were on the paper. You couldn’t focus on the story when thoughts of Peter were racing through your head.

Peter and Ned were whispering quietly to one another and Ned could sense the tension between the two of you. MJ was a lifesaver however because she sat down next to you.

Peter must have told her that something was going on, but you could tell from the look on MJ’s face, she didn’t know why.

-

After lunch was English with MJ. You didn’t have the class with Peter which was a gift for that day because you did not want to deal with your ‘best friend’.

MJ sat next to you and she questioned about you and Peter.

You two would always sit together at lunch, discussing whether the movie night this week was going to be at yours or his, whether the book was better than the movie (which MJ usually sided with you, because the book is (nearly) always better than the movie while Ned would side with Peter) and talking about what you learnt in physics. You two never talked about your teamwork outside of school, in fear of endangering others or if anyone was listening who shouldn’t be.

‘Peter and I had an argument last night over something. Just, he got on my nerves last night because he stressed me out.’

‘Okay, but we all know that he is an idiot, sometimes right?’ MJ laughs.

‘I know, and I know that I’m overreacting but it’s just really getting on my nerves. Peter’s my best friend and I want him to keep in contact you know?’ You said, straying closely to the truth, but not too close.

‘Peter sucks at texting back. He either texts straight away or at 3am, there’s no in-between.’ MJ smirks.

You sigh and continue to work on your English assignment.

‘I’m just distancing myself and I’m gonna work my own for a bit, rather than working with Pete.’

‘Okay, just remember that Pete will always be there for you, but  I know I don’t have to remind you.’

-

It was a week later. You had finished your homework for the night and told your parents you were going to bed, but you snuck out onto the fire escape and went to patrol for the night.

You hadn’t heard too much of Spider-Man’s activities in helping your city, only the small things such as helping the man find his pigeons.

Jumping from building to building, you were keeping an eye out for any odd behaviour when you spied a group of people hanging around a jewellery store. They were wearing homemade masks, so you knew this wasn’t a night where these people were getting a couple of drinks.

You eyed one of the masked people and jumped to a streetlight that was across the street from the store. Even though you never admitted it to him, you always had to thank Peter for teaching you how to stay balanced on the lights because there were too many laughter-filled nights and bruised legs the next morning from when you would slip.

When one masked people pulled out a hammer, that was when you interrupted.

‘Sorry to ruin your lovely night, but I’m not too sure that what you’re doing is legal.’ As you made your way over to the streetlight on their side of the busy NYC street.

The people on the ground started squabbling and pulling out their weapons that you had managed to not see in the first place. As they were pulling out their weapons, you told them to ‘take their time’.

You hadn’t thought that far ahead. Of course, they would’ve had weapons. So you stole your moment to think about what to do.

You saw an opening and leapt onto the tallest of the masked group and rebounded onto the smallest, ready to take them on.

‘Honey, you only just missed me. What a pity. Aim better next time.’ You teased as you dodged the female masked lady and then kicked her aside. Then you spun around to kick the tallest in the group on the temple, knowing that it would only knock the guy out.

You were down to the last three people, and you weren’t even tired. You were just doing your usual patrol and you were glad that the other ‘protector’ of New York hadn’t joined the party. However, when you looked to your left, you were ready to forgive your best friend so you could make it out of the night alive.

Many black SUV’s came screeching down the avenue, a never-ending line of them.

Your guess what that the people who were planning to rob the jewellery store, weren’t just a group of bored people.

In your moment of distraction, you felt someone punch you in the abdomen but after a year of fighting, you knew not to lean down. Instead, you gasped for air and hit back twice as hard. You spun, dodged and jumped, knocking out all of the robbers, wanting to get that off your to do list at the moment.

You saw many men run jump out of the many cars when you turned around, all now holding guns that you weren’t expecting.

Now you understood why you and Peter couldn’t work alone.

You always needed each other.

When the first shot was fired and you only narrowly missed, you knew you had got yourself into a bit of a mess.

Then you heard a familiar ‘pist’ sound.

However, you didn’t let your eyes flick over to your right, because in that moment, you were going to use Peter to your advantage.

It’s strange, there was a silence, as if the world was still but then you heard a voice in your earpiece.

‘Look Y/N, I’m sorry but we were both wrong. Could I be starting more unnecessary shit by saying this? Probably but we both had our faults. I should’ve contacted you, but you also didn’t have to ignore me. We didn’t have to have a ‘fight’. Anyway, I’m not gonna have a whole big speech right now because we’re about to be in the middle of something, but are we ready to work together again?’ Peter asked?

‘Okay yeah we’re all good. I’m sorry, and here we go. Start from the back and don’t be seen.’ You said quietly to Peter.

‘Yep spectacular spidey silent.’ You rolled you eyes and you saw out the corner of your eyes, a flash of blue and red jump to the corner of the building, and start taking out the men out the back. Even you could hear the ‘thwip’ from Peter, and even though he was saving you, you still needed to help his spider ass.

‘Okay, now let’s have some fun.’ You said as you ran forward to the army in front of you.

Now that everything was back in place, everything felt a lot smoother.

You flipped over about twenty men in front of you and you met the first guy with a kick to the throat and he stumbled back onto the ground and then you kicked another one of his buddies who landed right on top.

The two of you kept in touch the whole time, working well together and when you had your last five guys, you decided to have even more fun.

Finish things up by taking one of the guys and swinging him around to take out his other four mates.

You heard Peter laugh. It was your style to muck around a little bit, even when it was a dangerous situation.

Peter was the one to muck around with words, while you were the one to muck around a little bit when fighting, and it meant that the two of you worked well together.

You smiled at your best friend after the two of you took out the last guy and you went to hug your best friend when you looked over his shoulder only to shove the both of you to the side.

You could still hear the whistling of the bullet in your ear.

That’s when you saw one more car coming towards you, except you didn’t think this was one going to stop anytime soon.

‘Pete, do you wanna lift me?’ You turned to your best friend.

Peter nodded and grabbed onto your arm and swung the two of you up to the top of the building on the corner of the street.

The new black truck was driving past you and from the back on the building, a new problem arose.

You saw more men jump out, but then you saw the leader of the masked men.

Wilson Fisk.

The big (the only word that could describe him) man jumped down from the truck and you could see the metal bouncing back from the heavy man.

‘So here we are Spider-Man and his little girlfriend.’ Fisk looked up at you with a evil smirk.

You couldn’t care less about being called Spider-Man’s ‘girlfriend’, but you weren’t happy about the fact that Fisk had only called you that.

You weren’t Peter’s sidekick, and Peter wasn’t yours.

You were equal.

Now you were ready to fight.

Peter shot his webs over to the building opposite the two of you and swung the two of you over them. You dropped from Peter’s hold and knocked out one of the men cold.

You saw Fisk load his gun and before you could say anything, webs were shot, and the weapon went flying from Kingpin’s grasp.

You nodded to your friend in acknowledgement of his smooth move and the two of you went back to fighting the men.

Take down the pawns in order to take down the king.

Peter was dodging bullets and you had taken down the last men when you turned around to see Peter held by his neck by Wilson Fisk.

Your best friend started kicking, flailing around, suffocating.

You gasped, scared but you had no time to let the panic set in.

You took a deep breath. Panic was going to be no friend here.

The fire hydrant wasn’t going to be a good distraction, but you always had some stuff up your sleeves.

Peter wasn’t the one who was also inventing, nor Tony. You worked with Peter a lot when it came to improving his suit. It also meant that you had made a few little toys for yourself.

You threw a smoke bomb in Fisk’s direction hoping that it would release his grip of Pete just a little and then you climbed to the top of another streetlight and leapt onto Fisk.

You were right and landed on the crime lord’s shoulders and in surprise, he dropped and spun around to try and throw you off which you allowed.

Peter always recovered fast and it was something that you never completely understood, but soon enough you felt Peter’s webs stick to you and the next moment you were flying in Fisk’s direction and you kicked the man in the stomach which caught him by surprise. It then allowed you to distract Fisk as Peter snuck up behind him and began to tie him up with his webs.

Once everything was handled and Fisk was not able to move due to the number of webs that were trapping him, you called 911.

‘Yeah we’re all good. Yeah on the corner where the jewellery store is. Yep that’s the right one. Yep where the bus stop is. Yep on 5th avenue. All good? Anytime. Have a good night now guys.’ You wished the police a good night.

‘Well that was fun.’ You laughed.

Now that the adrenaline had stopped for the two of you, you realise how tired you were and how much your bodies hurt.

‘Can’t wait to see the bruise tomorrow. And shit, it’s 10:30pm.’ You said.

‘Did you finish the chem work?’ Peter asked as the two of you swung across the city.

‘Yeah I did. Do you need to borrow my answers?’ You laughed.

‘Okay yeah, just this once. Thanks.’ Peter chuckled.

‘You said that the last five times dumb-bum.’

It then returned to silence, and you knew what was coming next.

‘Peter, I’m sorry. Just, I got really scared and I panicked and yes, I was kinda rude with ignoring you and I know it was a bitchy thing to do but I was so angry. Pete, I was so scared.’ You explained. You didn’t have a good reason or your actions, but you were trying to make sense of them.

‘Y/N, I get it. I would’ve panicked too if the roles were swapped but we both acted out okay. We all good now?’ Peter smiled.

‘Of course, buddy.’

‘Okay shut up.’ Pete groaned at the nickname.

‘Be nice if you want the answers.’ You shouted as you returned to the ground, as you were now going to walk the couple more blocks to return to your apartment complex.

‘Sorry. Good night, love you!’ Peter swung away.

If it were any other city, people would be annoyed at the shouting.

‘Love you too buddy!’ You shouted from the ground.

You walked home with a smile on your face.

-

The next morning, at school, Peter thanked you again and called you a ‘lifesaver’ for giving him the answers to the chemistry homework.

Peter maybe smart, but he sucked at remembering to do his homework.

MJ smiled and you nodded to her from across the hall.

Everything was back to normal between you and your best friend, with one lesson learnt.

Just fucking communicate.

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker-Skip (1)

I don’t know if you’ve read the story about Skip and Peter? I read it a few weeks ago and I thought it would be cool to write something about it. Enjoy! This will be my new series; if you want to be tagged, let me now! I’ll post a new part (if this works) every Monday.

Plot: Peter’s new life couldn’t be better. College, aparment for himself, you. Still, Parker’s luck is not on his side, and the memories are coming back.

Warnings: it gets dark. Really dark, for Peter. Mentions of child abuse and rape. Angst, so much angst.

The sun was bright as Peter walked the sidewalk towards your new college, with his jacket thrown over his shoulder. He had managed to get out of class a few minutes earlier, even being the first day and all; so that he could pick you up and ask you about your day. A warm breeze combed through his hair, and birds flew around, chirping, both sure signs that summer was backing off and autumn was on its way. Peter worshipped its arrival, with its coldish weather and Halloween. You tucked on his side watching scary movies, planning awful pranks on the avengers together. He was smiling so hard that his cheeks hurt.

People around him chatted excitedly, and he saw the first students getting out of the building. A group of loud girls walked past him, and maybe in another place or time, he would have looked at them and blushed at their blanted looks. However, he had the most beautiful girl walking down the stairs in front of him, and he didn’t notice them.

You were easy to spot through the fence. The bright yellow blouse he had helped you to choose the previous night stuck out, hair pulled off your face with a high bun. Peter’s heart swelled with love when he noticed the small chain in your backpack, red and black with big white eyes. With a smile, Peter stepped up to meet you halfway, following the path that led to the front of your college.

“Hey”

Your head went up instantly after hearing his voice, and you saw a dorky looking Peter in front of you. He was wearing a white shirt with the first buttons undone, wanting to make a good impression in his own university. The backpack was hanging loosely from his side, and he was gripping one strap as if it was the first time he saw you.

“I, uh, I wanted to give you a surprise” he said, shifting his weight. “Got out early, thought you might like me picking you up. But I won’t do it again if-“

Peter was thrown a few inches forwards when your lips collided with him, arms around his neck and he chuckled softly. He felt your smile through the kiss, and the doubts about stepping over a boundary were long forgotten. The kiss lasted too little for his liking, and you were out of his arms in seconds.

You let out a excited giggle when you teared apart, jumping a little, happy to see your boyfriend’s face again. You were dying to tell him about your day, about your new classmates and hear about his.

“I want you to do this every day” you said, chin held high.

“Teachers won’t like that a lot” he laughed. “I had to get out early, but it was worthy”

Turning around, you gripped Peter’s hand and started telling him about your new classes. You were enthusiastic about the whole deal, and were almost bouncing with excitement; too busy to notice how Peter didn’t move an inch.

It felt as if the world stopped for him. The laugh got caught on his throat, it chocked him, it died, as Peter’s eyes landed on a man across the stairs. He was holding a big bag with papers, talking with another teacher he guessed while walking your way. His body went cold, and the air was filled with the smell of cheap aftershave and songs from cartoons. The group of girls that had been giving him eyes disappeared, you disappeared, and all that was left was Peter and a man with sandy hair.

Suddenly, he wasn’t in college, he was May’s apartment. He was watching cartoons and having cereals for breakfast. The disgusting smell of lemons filled his nostrils, and he could almost feel them. His hands, on his hips, on his chest, on his thighs. Peter crying, begging, so-

“Pete?” you pulled at his hands softly, wondering if he was even listening at you. You looked to where he had his wide eyes fixed, but only saw your Statistics teacher talking to the principal. “Bub, you okay?”

Peter blinked and shook his head, trying to put an smile for you. He took a deep breath and exhaled, looking away from the familiar man. Because that was it; he was just familiar, nothing else, nothing more. A look alike. It couldn’t be Skip, and his frenetic mind made a list of reasons; he moved far, far away. He wasn’t a teacher. His hair was longer. And, he couldn’t have been a whole day near you. Not there.

So, he just squeezed your hand and pulled you forward, almost dragging you out of the building.

“What was that?” you asked, frowning. You quickly forgot about your day or his. “Something wrong?”

“No, I’m fine. Fine. Just zoned out for a second” he said, words stepping over each other. “Do you want to Thai? I’ve seen a place near my university. Looks a bit shady, but-“

“Peter” you made him stop walking, and he finally looked at you.

In the middle of the busy streets, he felt much safer than in your university. Because he wouldn’t try anything in front of so many people; if he was Skip, which Peter didn’t want to believe. You looked at him worriedly, but he only grinned back. Placing both straps on his shoulders with rather shaky hands, he shrugged.

“Really, Y/N, is nothing. You know I tend to get lost in my head” he reassured you.

Of course, Peter Parker had a lot of years of practice in lying. He had lied to his aunt with the spiderman thing, and had tricked Mr Stark more than once when a patrol had gone too bad. And, well, even if he wasn’t proud of it, you didn’t find about his night activities until he decided to tell you. So it wasn’t difficult for him to make you believe that everything was alright, and start again the conversation about your classes.

Smiling again, you linked your arm with his and kissed his cheek, talking again about the first period. As you did so, Peter’s mind went back to the man. You walked to the Thai place; you ordered, waited for your food and Peter managed to tell you a little about his day without throwing up everything he had in his stomach. Because, the more he thought about him, the more similarities he found between Skip and him.

It was ridiculous.

He was far away, Peter was safe, you were safe, the world was safe without him. He had seen his car drive up the street with his little eyes, and May had assured him thousands of times when the nightmares came. Still, the thought kept ringing on his head for the whole lunch. When the dessert arrived, he decided to out and end to the anxiety.

“What are the names of your teachers?”

“Hm?” you asked, your mouth full of cream.

“You know the name of your teachers?” he repeated, swirling his spoon around the mint ice-cream that was making him sick.

“Hm, I suppose? I don’t know, I haven’t meet them all yet” you swallowed what you had in your mouth before talking again. “Why do you want to know?”

“I-I’ve heard there are common teachers between the colleges” Peter said, hoping you hadn’t noticed the stutter. “Just wanted to know if we might have one of those.”

“Oh, I didn’t know” you looked down at your cake, trying to remember some of the names. “There is-there is this woman called Mrs… Mrs Doubtfire.”

“What?” Peter squealed, and let out a loud laugh.

“Yeah, I thought the same!” you smiled, and pointed the spoon towards him. “And she kind of looks like the one in the film. Only that is really old and doesn’t know how to smile”

“At least it’s not Umbridge” he joked, feeling a little better.

“I think it’s worse” you sighed, taking another spoonful of your dessert. You offered it to Peter with a quick glance, but he shook his head. “An older girl had told us that she is always breathing down your neck, and that if she sees you going out on a Friday night, she’ll take one point from you.”

“She made that up” Peter snorted. “Please, tell me she just made that up.”

“I wish I could, bub” you rolled your eyes. “But she’s not the only one that had told us. There is the guy whose class is tomorrow that says it’s true”

“Another teacher?”

“Yeah, he’s kind of… weird, though. Doesn’t give me a good feeling” you said, not really caring about your words.

The guy had approached you in the corridor when you were walking to the third period, with a girl you had just met. Even if for her it had been normal, you had noticed something off about the blonde man. You had blamed it to Peter, whose paranoia had made a space on your heart.

But, while you didn’t care about it, it made Peter’s heart skip a beat.

“And… um, what’s his name?” he asked. Peter took a small bite of his ice-cream. It melted on his tongue, but wasn’t as good as it should be. Surprisingly, it tasted like lemon, and Peter gagged.

“I don’t really remember. Last name is Westcott, but I don’t know more” Peter almost threw the spoon to the floor, but caught himself before doing anything to startle you. “He teaches Statistic, first class on Tuesdays. I’ve heard he… gives candy when you get a question right. I’m not fond of the idea. But who am I to judge? Guy might be a total teddy bear.”

You went back to eating your cake and the knot of Peter’s stomach tightened. He held onto the table, hoping that you wouldn’t notice the way his knuckles were turning white, and hoping that if he held on tight enough, he wouldn’t be ripping away from the planet while his thoughts spun out.

Closing his eyes, he counted. Opening his eyes, he searched for the five objects. A lady’s purple purse. Black sauce scattered on the floor. Big lamp a little crocked. The blue necklace you were wearing. Waiters’ uniform. You had taken his silence as the end of the conversation, and you were happy to eat your food in peace. Tears pooled in Peter’s eyes and he wiped them out quickly, not wanting you to see them. But you did.

“Are you crying?” you frowned, spoon mid-way to your mouth.

“No, no. It’s just-brain freeze” he chuckled, and sighed in relief when the alarm in your eyes disappeared.

“I don’t know why you thought it was a good idea to order an ice-cream” you teased, winking at him. “Someone so hot can’t handle the cold”

He tried to smile for you, to force the memories away. But he only managed to give you a small smirk.

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

Peter waited until he heard your heartbeat slow and your breath go back to normal to roll out from the warm covers of your shared bed. Renting an apartment with you had seemed as the logical decision. You were dating, studying in the same city and didn’t have enough money to afford something bigger. Peter had been shaking with happiness when he opened for the first time the wardrobe and saw your clothes beside his. But, as the anxiety consumed him, he wished for his old apartment, where May slept like a baby and he could sneak out.

He slipped on a plan black sweater without a hood and dark jeans, putting back the boxers that he had thrown a few hours before under the bed, too focused on undressing you to care. Peter ran to the bathroom and looked at himself in the mirror; dishevelled head, red and swollen lips and bright eyes. However, they were not from the love making, but from the need of letting all of it out.

Angry and frustrated, Peter turned around and walked back to the bedroom; stopping when he saw you sleeping soundly on your side. You were hugging a pillow, probably missing his body next to you. Even if he didn’t want to say it out loud, Peter was always the little spoon when you two slept. It made him almost regret his decision, seeing you sleeping so peacefully. He really wanted to be back in your arms; but he also wanted to safe, above everything and anything.

So he sneaked out.

It wasn’t Spider-man problem. He wasn’t trying to stop some robbery, or save some lady from nasty guys. No, it was Peter Parker’s business. Skip Westcott was Peter’s business, and keeping you safe from the thing he feared the most was also. The suit didn’t come with him that night, only the web-shooters so he could be back into your arms sooner.

Peter had found Skip’s address hacking into the school’s website, and Google Maps directed his way into the night.

There was a playground at the end of the street where he lived, and as Peter walked past, the wind blew through the chains of the swing set. He stopped and stared at the park. Even in the dark, the memories came back. Hands. Touches. Begging. Moaning. Pain. Thrusts.

He moved past it and didn’t stop again until he stood in front of the white fence surrounding the blue house. A nice park was in the driveway, and the yard had some flowers growing. No one would ever be able to tell what kind of person lived there.

Want to know more about me? Here is my Masterlist! Feedback is always appreciated!!

Tom Tags:

@delicately-important-trash

[jxst-saying]

“No one will suit you like I did.” Luke please

[+masterlist] requests are open!! 

Summary: In which red carpets are rolled, stars are found in the theatre and not in the night sky of the city, unfortunate truths are acknowledged, Luke doesn’t know how to let go of the past, and neither do you. 

Word Count: 1,979 words

Bright lights. Blinding flashes. Blood–red carpet. Dazzling gowns that trailed across the floor. Shouts of, “This way, darling!” and “Over here, Y/N!” You weren’t exactly any sort of talent; you had no real reason to be on the red carpet save for the arm you were clinging on to for dear life. You were the new toy, something to be dissected and fascinated with for the next month or two until a new toy was found and the cycle started all over again. That was how it was. You didn’t make the rules; you just followed them. 

It was your first red carpet with the new man. Three months and two days. That was how long it had been with him. And it was fine. Everything was fine. Easy. His smiles were friendly; his touch was warm; his eyes squinted when he laughed. He met you at the local park when his dog had run from his leash and ended up at your own feet. It was all very cute and very easy and very different from what you were used to––this red carpet included. As an up and coming film director, this event was more his speed than yours. With every light that blinded your field of vision, you clung tighter to the expensive hand–tailored black fabric of his tuxedo. Your knuckles were turning white. 

It was the premiere of the newest movie he had directed, a project that he said could “put him on the map.” Stars, celebrities, and assistants littered the walkway to the theatre, and the chilled night breeze swept across your skin. Goosebumps rose in its wake. 

Photographs and haphazard staff weren’t the only ones that spied you, Tinseltown’s Newest Toy, in the crowd. A pair of familiar blue eyes––ones that you haven’t found in the crowd––carefully observe as you walk into the dark theatre. More accurately, they observe the death grip you have on the arm of the man next to you, the one with the disarming smile and the name in lights and, most importantly, the arm in yours. Touching you. Just like he remembered doing. All too well. He remembered everything all to well. Unintentionally, his eyes narrow at the sight of the two of you; blood begins to boil; heart sprints toward some unknown finish line in a race to the death; vision turns the same hue as the carpet he just stepped off, all red and vibrant and bloody and gruesome. 

Touching you. 

Someone was touching you. 

Someone that wasn’t him. 

In short, it all went downhill from here. 

+ 

It was one of those movies with a moralistic sort of end goal, some hidden message about life and love and liberty laced throughout. Completely metaphorical and entirely prosaic, whatever message–in–a–bottle was meant to be uncovered from the one–hundred and twenty–nine minute movie flew right over your head. 

So, it wasn’t really a surprise when at the fifty–seven minute mark, you scrounged up some excuse to disappear into the foyer of the theatre. With assurances of, “I’ll be right back, don’t worry,” and, “Just need a little fresh air and some water,” it wasn’t all that difficult. You weren’t all too sure why you were taking a breather from the two hour long movie. It wasn’t that it was terrible; it was probably something like a cinematic masterpiece if you knew anything about Oscar–nominated cinema. But you didn’t. Your film knowledge and expertise ended at The Sound of Music and your belief that Princess Diaries was as good as anything could ever or would ever get. So, maybe it was just that all of this was flying over your head. Yeah. That was probably it. (Definitely not the fact that you thought you might have been feeling a little suffocated with all the eyes on you and the tight grip of his hand holding onto yours and the whispers that you could hear from the rows behind you. Definitely not that at all. Of course not.) 

The temperature had dropped two or three degrees since the beginning of the premiere, the chilly wind now nipping at your skin instead of caressing it in a cold embrace. The cold bites here and there felt better than the asphyxiation you were feeling inside, however, and you leaned against the stucco wall of the exterior with your arms crossed over your chest. Your emerald–green dress dragged across the cement floor collecting dirt, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

A handful of stars were scattered in the night sky smog of the city, and you breathed deeply. The last glimpses of summer were transitioning into autumn, and you welcomed the colder months––and this brief moment of solitude––with open arms. 

But the solitude didn’t last for long. (Did it ever?) Your absence from the screening didn’t go unnoticed by a certain man at the back of the theatre––the same one from earlier with the stark blue eyes and blonde hair tousled into haphazard waves. Peeking from around the corner, he spied you leaning against the wall and staring at the scattered and broken constellations. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pitch–black suit trousers and let the corners of his lips kink upwards into that classic smirk. 

“I don’t think you can see the movie from here,” he said, breaking the silence that you had wrapped yourself in. 

Your head snapped to the all–too–familiar voice and you were met with those blue eyes and blonde hair and slightly tanned skin. It was him. He was here. Your breath hitched in your throat. Luke. One–hundred and eighty–seven days and he was still able to elicit some sort of response from you. You mumbled shit under your breath with your mouth slightly agape and your hands limp at your sides. 

But then you noticed his smirk, that same blasted smirk that got you into trouble more times than you could count. Quickly, you collected yourself; arms once more crossed over your chest, eyes narrowed at the dark sky above, heart beating much too fast for your own good in its bone cage. Sure, you had thought of the possibility of him and the other three making a grand (sort of) appearance. Maybe it had crossed your mind a few thousand times. Maybe the thought just never left your mind. But even with that, never in your wildest dreams did you imagine that you would be standing face–to–face with the man of your nightmares and dreams. 

“It’s called fresh air,” you answered with some bite in your words. He didn’t miss the venom and sharp tone. Instead, he leans against the same wall with you, just a four or five inches shy from your side. (If he reached out with just the simplest gesture, he could touch you, he thought. He didn’t dare.) “What are you doing here?”

“It’s called fresh air,” Luke repeated with wry laughter and that same damned smirk. 

You peeled yourself off the wall and shook your head. “No, what are you doing here? At this premiere?”

“Can’t a man see a movie in his spare time?” 

“Sure, but not when it’s directed by the––”

He rolled his eyes and pulled his hands out from his pockets, crossing his arms over his chest instead. “The prick you’re walking around this town with? That guy?” 

“He’s not a prick.”

“He is in my book.” Luke kicked at a pebble at his feet, letting it trip out into the street. 

And, of course, the man in front of you hadn’t changed at all. Of course, he still only wanted you when he couldn’t have you, when you had no more chances for him up your sleeve, when there was no more hope or saving grace or complete idiocy that could keep the two of you together. Classic. Really, it was. But that was how Luke had always been: realizing The Most Important Things after it was all just Too Late, trying to make up for things that he had no business being forgiven for. One–hundred and eighty–seven days later, and everything was still somehow the same. 

What did they say? The more things change, the more they stay the same? Maybe they were right. 

But you couldn’t go down that road again. Not here. Not now. Not again. So, collecting whatever strength you have in your bones, you took a step away from the blonde and toward the door. “I can’t do this, Luke. I won’t. You’ve had––you’ve h-had––“

He interrupted. (Again.) “So many chances, Y/N, I know. But––”

“No. No more buts. There’s nothing different this time. Everything is still the fucking same, Luke. This is always the fucking same. And I just––I can’t do it anymore.” Another step toward the door. “I have to go back inside. I suggest you do the same. It’s a good movie.” Maybe that was a lie. “He worked hard on it.” 

You were just about to open the door––your hand extended for the cold, metal handle when you heard it. His words were faint and nearly unintelligible with the car engines and the wind in your ears and the noise on the street and the city ambiance, but you heard it nonetheless. “No one will suit you like I did.” 

There was always something about his incessant arrogance that drew you to him. Maybe you found it charming in some sort of way. Either way, it was enough for you to pause for just a brief moment in time. Without turning around (you couldn’t say what you were about to while looking into this swimming pool eyes of his), you took a deep breath and let the words fall into the one–hundred and eighty–seven day space between the two of you. 

“You’re probably right. But I can damn well try.” 

You left Luke out there in the chilly city streets then with nothing but the near–autumn breeze to keep him company. With your head held high and your spine rod–straight, you marched your way back into the theatre. Every forced and nearly impossible step brought you farther and farther away from the wavy–haired and oceanic–eyed man outside the theatre. Every step was simultaneously a championing victory and a heartbreaking defeat. And so, what if there was a salty drop of water hanging dangerously off the precipice of your lower lash line, threatening to streak the makeup painting your skin? So, what if when you sat back down in your uncomfortable red–velvet theatre seat, you sniffled to bite back those frustrating water droplets? So, what if that prick sitting next to you asked if you were alright and if you were enjoying the movie and he believed you when you said you were fine and that it was great and amazing and whatever other bullshit adjectives you could string together? 

So, what? 

(And, so what if when the credits rolled you turned back around and spied the last row in the theatre where the man with the swimming pool eyes had been sitting only to find it empty? So, what if that seemed to break your heart more than you wished it would?) 

No one will suit you like I did. 

He was right. 

And with that thought, everyone rose in a standing ovation for the man next to you (The Prick). With that singular thought, you were standing in a theatre with thousands of people all around you––all there for, essentially, you and the man you had come with––yet you had never felt more alone. Their eyes were empty; their applause numbing; their smiles meaningless. 

It didn’t suit you.

[bisexualklausmikaelson]

If you don't mind, could you write something for klayley based on/inspired by the song Blue by The Neighbourhood?

B.L.U.E – Beyond Love, we are the Universe, Endless

a/n: post-series au/or what ifeveryone came back to life as humans

―

ek. (read my mind ―)

Elijahbuys a piano. 

It’sa stupid expense - they don’t have the kind of luxuries of being originalvampires anymore, they can’t afford to be so foolish when the four of themlived in this dingy little apartment. But, fuck it.

Hewanted a damn piano. 

And,with only a handful of years ahead of him, Elijah Mikaelson decided that he’drather be a musician than a sad old man.

Sohe did just that.

― 

do. (got me at a stop l i g h t.)

Hopehas simpler desires these days.

Shecan finally think about both her parents without cringing about one not talkingto her or the other one being dead. And in truth, after all she’s been through- being human felt good. Her entire life, she’d wanted to be normal.

Andnormal she got.

(Shewas 18, and she no longer worried about monsters, or witches, or heck, evendragons. Hope looked at University applications, got drunk at bars with herfriends, worked at a coffee shop as a barista.

Shecame home each night and crawled into bed while binging a bunch of shows onNetflix. It was the most mundane and uneventful evening she’s had in years.

Andshe loved every second of it).

― 

teen. (call me up for comfort)

Hayleyadopts a black cat.

Hestarted showing up right after Hope had gotten accepted into University. Atfirst, she just offered the stray little thing some water, sometimes scraps ofleftovers. Then, eventually, the cat started sleeping in front of her door.

Hayleypicks it up and realizes that he’s not completely black - he’s got a small tuffof white hair right under his chin, shaped like a half moon. It’s eerily reminiscentof her birthmark.

It’sat that moment that she decides that she’s going to take him in.

― 

char. (― baby, it’s already been a long n i g h t)

Klausgoes to the movies.

It’sbeen almost ten years since the last time he took the time to actually watch adamn film. You know, getting chased around by the undead, by his insane father,by his reckless mother - it took a toll on his hobbies.

Hegrabs popcorn with extra butter, an over expensive fizzy soft drink thatbubbles inside him and a pack of Maltesers.

(Heeven stays after the credits).

―  

paanch. (you leave me b.l.u.e.)

Thetwo of them lied in bed, silent for a moment.

Theroom is dimly lit - soft jazz plays in the background. Hayley wraps herself incrisp white sheets, inhaling Hope’s lingering perfume that stained them. Shemisses her so dearly, wonders if she does the same with her old leather jacketthat still smelled like the bayou.

Klauslies on the opposite end of the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

“It’sweird isn’t it? With just us here,” Hayley suddenly blurts out.

Heturns to meet her gaze. She was finally looking the part of the mother of afully grown adult. Wrinkles at the ends of her eyes because she smiled toomuch, a few strands of silver hair creating a unique stripe down her mane, amature beauty in her, sophistication. Time had caught up with the both of them,with their humanity back, it was clear. 

Theywere in their forties. 

“Well,we all knew Hope would leave,” Klaus finally says. “She’s eighteen, she wantsto be independent,” he explains to her.

“I’maware of that,” Hayley snaps.

Ittakes him too long to realize the obvious.

“You’retalking about ‘Lijah,” he judges, by her snippy tone. Her silence givesaway the rest of it, and Klaus can connect the dots from there. “Mybrother is a very complicated man, love,” he quickly says, attempting torecovering what is lost.

Elijahhas left nothing but one of his old Armani suits hanging in the back of thecloset. The scent of Paco Rabanne 1 Million lingers on it. It had only been afew weeks since his disappearance. Mostly, Elijah had been worried about howlittle time he had left on this planet.

Howhe could no longer bare to just sit there in Mystic Falls and die there, again.

“Ishe ever going to come back?” He doesn’t know what to say to her. All he knowsis this: the girl from his brother’s dreams is lying  here beside him, voice trembling, and eyessearching for any semblance of hope, that someday, her love shall return.

Andso, Klaus can’t help himself.

Hethrows the girl a bone.

“Foryou?” he hums, smiling. “Quite certainly,” he whispers softly.

Shedoesn’t like this side of him. For some reason, he is too vulnerable, too weak,too sensitive and aware of how his words affect her.

Itmakes her want to roll her eyes – makes her wonder where the old Klaus went.

“Don’tlie to me,” she orders him. “Not about this,” Hayley firmly says.

Heleans his head against hers, sighing heavily.

“I’msorry, little wolf,” Klaus releases, just before she bursts out in to tears.

― 

che.(stuck inside your cage)

Shecries for exactly four days, and on three of them, he brings her a warm drink.

Onthe last day, he takes her out.

(Sheleaves behind the steaming hot cup of lavender and licorice infused tea, tugson his sleeve as he guides her towards the closest convenience store).

―  

saath. (s o m e t hi n g  inside me is swimming )

They’reon the swings with bowls of ice cream in hand.

“Foodtastes so much better as a human,” Hayley exhales, smiling for the first timethis week.

“Athousand years, and I never thought I’d say this. But I really did miss thetaste of mundane Ben & Jerry’s,” Klaus scoffs, taking a large spoonful ofchocolate ice cream.

“Mundane?”she repeats, sounding shocked. “Someone’s fancy,” Hayley giggles.

Shedoesn’t say much else after that – she eats her pistachio ice cream, watchesthe other children in the park run around the jungle gym, swings slightly andtaps her feet together.

(One,two, three―

Andshe is home).

“Iwonder,” Klaus interrupts her thoughts. “What does one do with only ahandful of years left?” He asks, half-serious and half-curious.

“Idon’t know,” she stammers, biting on her bottom lip. “But this date is anice start,” Hayley blurts out, thoughtlessly.

Hercomment catches him off-guard. He’s known her for so long, and yet, she remainsunpredictable. “This is…a date?” Klaus questions.

Shewidens her eyes. She hadn’t even realized that she’d said those words.

“Sorry,” Hayleywhispers, almost too quiet for him to hear. “I wasn’t really thinking when Isaid that,” she goes on to tell, sounding flustered. Her cheeks burn bright redand they are warm. Why in the world did she have to call this a damn date?

“Italright sweetheart,” he quickly replies her to calm her down. Instead, Klaussmiles, like nothing ever happened. “No harm done.” he shrugs and, thistime, the cards play in his favour.

Forshe is relieved.

―           

aath. (beyond love― ).

“Klaus,”She quips, as their both on their way home that evening. It’s a bit chilly, soat some point, he had draped his jacket over her shoulders. It doesn’t stop herfrom tugging at his sleeve again, as if she is frail. “I want to ask yousomething,” Hayley says, tugging harder.

“Goon,” he replies.

Shelooks down, with a sad gaze. “Why haven’t you left yet?” Hayley asks.

Hepauses, not too sure what to say next.

“Whatdo you mean?” Klaus questions her instead.

Shebegins her sentence with a sigh, which is never a good thing. “Everyone’s ontheir own path. Hope with her studies, Elijah is god-knows-where. Rebekah withMarcel, Kol and Davina, Freya and her family―”

“And where exactly do you think I would go,sweetheart?” he cuts her off then, mostly because he doesn’t want to know whyshe wants to push him away this time. When right now, she is all that he hasleft.

“I don’t know,” she releases, nervously. “ToCaroline maybe? She is still around, you know?” Her voice shakes as she speaks,almost as if she’s afraid to face the truth.

Everyoneleaves her.

Klaus feels everything rush in like a storm – thesound of the young vampire’s name could make his world shake still, even afterall these years. “Caroline is going to live forever,” he admits to her. “Icouldn’t bare to have her watch me die again,” he’s honest with her, and sheappreciates that. Even if his answer isn’t the most sympathetic thing.

“I see,” Hayley nods. “Is that they only reason whythen?” she pushes for more though, because truthfully, she’s always craving forso much more. Klaus had left her starved from his empathy, so many timesbefore. It was only natural for her to hunger for him. To ache for his words.

She’dalways been a greedy woman.

“Little wolf,” he whispers, like she’s still thatyoung girl in her twenties that he hooked up with – like she’s still naïve. “Youand I have been through everything together,” he reminds her. “No one canreplace that,” Klaus finally announces.

She doesn’t tell him that his words feel likesalvation.

―

nau. (universe, endless)

(Sheunderstands how irreplaceable he truly is the morning she is waking up to thesmell of pancakes, a cup of coffee left by her bedside, soft rock music playingon the radio―

and their old lives are worlds, worlds, worlds away).

― 

[positiveparker]

dose of happiness | h.h

hey loves!! so I got a few requests for this hehe also do give me feedback I always read and take it into account - L

- pairing ; best friend!harry x tom brother!haz

- warnings ; swearing! mentions of a hospital!

- masterlist

- request ; brother haz, best friend harry and tom comforting you after a breakup? 

not my gif

“over text!” Tom spat grittily, his hands slamming bitterly into the rough, black steering wheel in front of him. His face was screwed up and scarlet with angry tension. My (bf/gf) (name) had broken up with me the evening before. I immediately texted both the holland boys, Harry and Tom. I knew spending a day with them would make my ripped heart ache a little less. 

“Tommmm” I whined, I hated that one of my situations had caused his usual bouncy mood change. 

“no seriously (y/n) that’s shitty, you shouldn’t have to put up with that bastard!” He carried on, darting a furrowed look at me. I could feel the burning heat rising off his skin and wafting over to me. His arm flexed as he wrapped his fingers around the gear shift and toggled it to the side. I didn't want him to be angry, but I guessed it showed he cared. We pulled up to his house where my brother Haz had been hanging out with Harry. Harry was helping him film some new self tapes for a couple of new projects. 

The sky was a steely evening grey as we stepped out onto the pavement. I slid my body off Tom’s plush leather car seats and trudged beside him up the driveway to his deep red front door. Yellowy light streamed through the muggy front window and reflected onto the black and white tiled path. I wrapped my cold fingers around the gold knocker and slammed it against the wood of the door. A few rumbles and giggles echoed from inside and then the door flung open to reveal huge freckled arms spread out at me. Harry was grinning heartily with his autumnal curls falling slightly over his forehead. All his features were cut deeply but were still soft and gentle to look at. His lips perfectly parted to reveal his teeth. 

“Harryyyy” I sighed breathily, melting into his chest. He entangled his two warm arms around my back and rubbed his hands up and down my t-shirt. I could feel his breath running from his nostrils, down the petite hairs on my back. I suddenly felt recharged with electricity. Thousands of volts entering my skin. My body felt so relieved at his touch, I had almost forgotten about my breakup. I pulled away and smiled thankfully, I then followed the pounding noise coming from the living room. I walked in to see my brother Haz sitting comfortably on the Hollands grey sofa, his feet were propped up on their coffee table. His gaze was on their pixelated flat screen watching football players run up and down a bright green pitch. 

“hey” he grinned nodding up at me. I smiled feebly back, crashing down next to him and starting focus my gaze on the TV. Low shouts of a crowd echoed from the speakers. 

Haz didn’t know about the break up yet. I was going to tell him at breakfast but he left too early. Of course I was nervous, I didn't want him to go all ‘protective big brother’ on me and somehow track (name) down and kill (him/her). Haz was always always there when I needed him, I remember when I broke my ankle when I was 11 and had to have an emergency operation. I was so scared and our stressed out parents didn’t help, he gripped my hand the whole time and slept at my bedside for a week. I remember how much school he missed but he didn’t care, he said “he wouldn’t have been able to concentrate knowing I was struggling”. He read me books and told me jokes to take my mind off the excruciating pain pulsating in my body. 

We sat in silence until Tom and Harry poured into the living room. They were jokily play fighting, kicking each others shins childishly. Harry’s cute giggle echoed in my ears. His laugh was smooth, like creamy icing sandwiched between two sides of a cake. Their playful actions became harder and harder until Harry kicked Tom hard behind his knee. Tom grunted in agony and then scooped his arms around Harry’s skinny legs. He hoisted him up over his shoulder. I gasped and cackled at Harry struggling in Tom’s strong grip. 

“tommmmmm” Harry hollered punching his fists against Tom’s straight back. Tom laughed back, his lips parted in a full scheming grin. 

“c’mon guys I’m trying to watch the game” Haz whined, shoving his hand at the TV.

“ooo sorry grumpy” Tom replied sarcastically, cracking a wide eyed look at me. I rolled my eyes back and then looked over at Haz, he had his arms crossed over his chest with his eyebrows lowered in a sulk. 

“let me down!” Harry thrashed about, Tom finally set Harry down, his freckled face was flushed adorably red. He looked over at me in his embarrassed state and awkwardly pushed his curls back. Both of them slumped down into the crisp white leather chairs opposite Haz and I. 

“soooo, Tom mentioned there was something you wanted to tell Haz and I?” Harry said leaning forward. He rested his elbows on his spread knees and looked at me eagerly. 

“oh…uh…well” I stuttered and fumbled nervously over my words, I wasn’t sure how to announce it. I was anticipating more anger. “w-well (name) and I broke up” I said lowly, I careened my gaze to the ground, almost hunching my shoulders away from Haz. I hoped he hadn’t heard my words. My heart blasted its rhythm in my ears. Getting louder and more deafening by the second. 

“over text as well!” Tom hollered, he angrily slapped his back against cushioned chair. I could almost feel the heat in the room rising. 

“NO WAY!” I heard Haz cry from next to me. “THAT PRICK, I AM GOING TO KILL (him/her)!”

I couldn’t deal with all the emotions at once and suddenly they burst open through tears streaming down my face. Everything felt weighted on me. I hated when I made other people angry. I had never cried this much. I couldn’t stop, more and more salty sadness dribbled down to the corners of my mouth and slid against the tip of my tongue. My chin trembled and my lip pouted slightly, I felt weak and childish. My brain ran its fingers down the spine of my book of stressful thoughts, tinging every sad emotion and throwing it out. 

“now look what you’ve done” Tom announced slapping his hands against his knees.

“I’m sorry sis d-don’t c-cry, I didn't mean it like that” Haz’s strong hand crept up onto my back and moved slowly up and down in comfort. Tom stretched up and paced around to Haz, pushing his body between us. Haz’s touch left my back.

“why don’t you make cups of tea and we’ll do the comforting” He suggested nodding in Harry’s direction. Haz huffed, pressing his hands into the sofa cushion and stretching upwards. His indent in the soft sofa was replaced with Harry’s soft back resting against the cushioned material. I was still crying, it would burst through in lapping waves. Sometimes I would be snivelling and then a thought would collapse in my head and cause more breakage. 

“should we watch a film?” Harry stuttered

“yeah, it will take your mind off things” Tom said softly 

“how about…your favourite!” Harry said picking up the remote from the coffee table and scrolling through their selections of recorded films. “oh, oh Mamma Mia!” Harry grinned clicking on the film cover. I nodded and smiled weakly back. 

Haz set down 4 cups of steamy tea in front of us. Mine was the darkest in colour, just how I liked it. Bitter but full of sweetness. Tom went to sit on the chair next to Haz and Harry sidled up next to me. I could feel his emotional warmth tingling my senses. As the joyful music chimed out of the TV I rested my heavy head on Harry’s comfortable shoulder. His body felt soft against my head, intensely warm with happiness. His arm curled around my torso and we shifted more into each other, melting more as the movie went on. He somehow sealed the gaping holes inside me and made a small smile curl from the two sides of my lips. Harry’s hugs were like a little dose of warm and comfortable temperature heaven. Peace that calmed every single storm in my riveting head. Haz and Tom gazed at the TV aswell, Haz would dart a look over at me every so often. He was obviously checking I was okay.

“I’m sorry” He mouthed after his fifth gaze

“I’m fine now” I mouthed back nodding up at Harry. Haz nodded, smiling. 

“you don’t need a (him/her) anyways (y/n), you’ve got us” Harry leant down into my hair and whispered lowly into my scalp. His words danced down my back and through my skin pumping hot, red, happy wine into my veins. I felt intoxicated. 

TAGLIST ; 

@tomsfireheart @feelingsareharddd @lovelyh0lland  @hazeyholland @t-o-m-holland @lookclosernow @choke-me-sweet-pea @whatareyouhidingpeter @spidey-pal