#would putting my phone in airplane mode n shutting myself away for the rest of the day help or make things worse? (not rhetorical question)

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

It's Delicate: Part II

Summary: Spencer Reid finds himself at a gas station at 2:00 am, thinking he’s only leaving with a cup of crappy coffee. But something taped to the door catches his eye. Spencer leaves the gas station with more than he intended: the chance at a friend, and maybe something more along the way.

Word Count: 3.6 k

Author’s Note: Here's the second part in It's Delicate, my first chapter fic. I've planned out kind of where I see this eventually going! Thank you to anyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs. It really means the world to me.

Content Warnings: Expletive language (3 uses), mentions of drug use, sexual innuendo

READ PART I

It's Delicate Masterlist

It's Delicate

Sitting on the plane, Spencer looks out from the little window. For hours, there’s been nothing but corn fields and clouds. It’s eerily peaceful, being there high above the clouds. His whole life Spencer has felt this distance between him and everyone else, but nothing makes that feeling more prominent than being strapped in a glorified metal box 35,000 feet off the Earth’s surface. But the thing is, Spencer does need to be flying above the trees to feel lonely. He can do that with two feet on the ground.

Luke sits across Spencer, the table between them and a deck of playing cards are spread out across its surface. He has to nudge Spencer’s leg from under the table, trying to bring him back to reality as he stares out the window.

“Whatcha thinking,” Luke asks, Spencer has been noticing more and more that Luke is one of the few people that actually listens to him.

Spencer, whose mind is racing too fast to even formulate an articulate thought, attempts to dodge Luke’s question with a noncommittal shrug.

“Reid, these cases are hard for all of us, you gotta know that man,” Luke says, laying down a four of a kind.

Spencer narrows his eyes, shocked that it hasn’t clicked yet for the rest of the team. He cracks his neck, preparing to answer Luke.

“We almost locked up an innocent man, Alvez. I almost sent another man to the same fate as myself. What kind of fucked up message is that?” Spencer says, throwing down the cards on the table. He doesn’t wait for Luke to respond.

“I fold,”

Spencer walks off into the small kitchenette to make a cup of coffee. He doesn’t want to think about his increased reliance on coffee, because he knows it’s a hot cup of coffee or a cold needle of Dilaudid in his veins. Spencer checks his watch, it’s 10:17 pm, maybe too late to find a meeting at a church or rec center somewhere.

He sneaks a peak at his phone, which was still unfortunately on Airplane Mode, he hasn’t even gotten a chance to see if Y/N has responded. He doesn’t know much about her, just as much as she knows about him.

It’s a brave new world for Spencer and he’s knee deep into the unknown.

Spencer can feel Luke’s eyes on him. He just knows that the minute he gets home, a certain tech expert will be ringing him. He knows that it’s Luke’s way of caring, but for someone who’s been alone for so long, having people that actually care is almost drowning.

Walking back to his seat, Spencer hands Luke a coffee. He smiles slightly; it’s the awkward smile that he used to make when intimating police chiefs and idiot cops would look him up and down like he’s a TA. It’s a peace offering for Luke, who despite his tough looking exterior, is one of the kindest people Spencer knows.

“Look, Reid. I’m sorry that we didn’t put it together. It’s just that man that we caught, he’s not like you. He’s not innocent of crimes, he’s just innocent of this crime,” Luke says in an attempt to make Spencer feel a little bit better.

“The thing is Luke, I’m exactly like that man,”

Spencer returns to staring out the window. The cards and the coffee on the table are long ignored for the silence that is found when you’re high above the clouds.

--

Spencer hears Tara and Emily murmur quietly about going out for a round of drinks. Luke accepts, while JJ and Matt decline, eager to get home to their families. Emily looks over at Spencer, her eyes silently scanning him, his body language. Spencer knows that there’s nothing he can hide from Emily, so there’s no use in trying to pretend he’s alright when she can take one look at him and know that nothing is right.

“You guys have fun, I’m going to head home and get some sleep. I plan on visiting my mom tomorrow and mornings are usually better for her,” Spencer says, slinging his go bag around his shoulders and making the trek back to the security to check out.

He walks slowly, enjoying the sound of the crickets chirping as he trudges along. Spencer tries not to think about the man, Richard, who was almost locked up for a crime that he didn’t commit. Spencer is pretty sure that being the person to throw an innocent man in jail is worse than being the innocent man in jail.

Spencer’s phone buzzes loudly, disturbing the silence of his walk. He looks at the phone to see a couple of messages from Y/N. Spencer slides open the lock to his phone and hits the button to read her messages.

Y/N: Spencer...that has a nice ring to it. So tell me a little bit about yourself. Your big three, but as books. Go! 🌞🌙⬆️

Furrowing his brow, Spencer reads the message over again. He does not have a clue what “big three” means, but it seems like some sort of pop culture thing that he’s not skilled in. He wants to text Garcia for a translation, but he’s also not too keen on telling her how he came across Y/N’s number.

Y/N: I assume you’re working, but I'm kind of impatient so I’ll give you mine 🙃 I’m a Little Women sun, an Emma moon, and an In Cold Blood rising.

Y/N: Oh no….I hope my astrology didn’t turn you off

Y/N: Not that I was trying to turn you on

Y/N: omg Y/N please shut the fuck up

Astrology? Spencer isn’t one to judge, but he’s a scientist first and foremost. The idea that there is something written about him in the stars seems like ludicrous. He decided to ignore the other messages, particularly the ones with a little more than slight innuendo.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m sorry I just got out of work. As for my big three, I’m not sure about astrology. I don’t particularly believe in pseudoscience. But those are good choices. In Cold Blood is an excellent choice. Capote spent years researching the case. In fact his prose and technique inspired the entire “Nonfiction novel” genre. The world of journalism and true crime would not be where it is without Capote’s work.

Y/N: Oh my god. You are a total nerd. 🙀

That stops Spencer right in his tracks. He’s only a couple of yards away from the Volvo at this point, but somehow it feels a million miles away. You are a total nerd. The words replay in his mind as the small gray bubbles pop up again. Spencer can feel his heart constrict at Y/N’s words. It’s ridiculous, he’s nearly 34 and is getting upset that a stranger called him a nerd. Spencer unlocks his car and tosses his go bag, phone included onto the passenger seat.

After a couple of minutes his phone buzzes again. He’s half tempted to answer it, but the way his heart seems to beat faster tells him to ignore it.

Y/N: I fucking love it and I think you’ll love this too

Spencer’s entire demeanor changes as he reads the message. He’s always had difficulties reading emotion in writing, especially when he can’t analyze the handwriting. Sometimes, it’s even harder to judge inflection during conversations. Maybe that is why Spencer has spent all this time studying people, studying the way that their minds work. Before he can get too lost in his thoughts, another message pops up.

Y/N: Meet Capote and Second Cat

Y/N: They are the loves of my life

Spencer: They are very...distinguished looking. Capote is an excellent name choice then. Second Cat is also quite catchy.

Spencer hesitates before sending the message, he notices that Y/N uses what Garcia calls “emojis” quite frequently. He assumes that it’s some sort of “texting lingo” that expresses emotion in small graphics. Great, he thinks. He already has a difficult time deciphering Y/N’s cryptic wording and now he’s got to analyze these emojis.

Maybe he should profile her. He re-reads the message and settles on a “😄” because he figures that he can’t go wrong with offering Y/N a smile.

Spencer: I don’t have a cat, but when I was a kid I always wanted one, they’re quite good companions for those that live several different kinds of lifestyles. From active to sedentary, they are adaptable and independent. Honestly they are the perfect pet.

Y/N: Is this your way of telling you’re a crazy cat man? 😜 🙀

Spencer, still sitting in his car that’s parked in the parking lot, chuckles at Y/N’s response to his message. Maybe it’s just easier to ignore his rambling when it’s done through 1s and 0s and there isn’t a face to the words.

Spencer: I’m actually more of a fish guy

Y/N: Like a “I-like-to-go-fishing-and-post-picture-of-myself-kissing-my-catch-on-Tinder” kind of fish guy or...I can’t think of any other kind of fish men

Spencer, not totally understanding the obvious joke that Y/N is trying to make, settles on something that he hasn’t really ever tried: being himself.

Spencer: Not quite sure what a Tinder is, but I think fishing is terrifying and kissing a fish is something out of nightmares. But his name is Leo

Y/N: DiCaprio?

Spencer: Uhh, Tolstoy

Y/N: Good😉 ⚔️🕊️ 🇷🇺

Spencer glances at his clock on the control panel, it tells him that he’s been messaging with Y/N back and forth for nearly 22 minutes. He nearly forgot how tired he was.

Spencer: Y/N- I’m so sorry but, I just got to my car to drive home from work. I’ll text you tomorrow morning about the book club, maybe we can figure out some things.

Y/N: OMG Spencer!! you should have told me. I’ve been talking ur ear off. sleep well and yes please tomorrow we can talk about the book club

Y/N: Good night, Book Buddy 😴

Spencer wants to respond to Y/N, but he doesn’t know what to say. She seems to text so easily, and judging by that, she must be around Spencer’s age or a little bit younger. Besides JJ and Penelope, Spencer has never had a friend close to his age. It’s a strange new territory for him and he’s walking in head first into No Man’s Land.

He starts his Volvo, the check engine still lights but, reminding him once again to go get it fixed. Driving away from the parking lot, Spencer hands over his ID to Gina, the security guard. She checks his ID and gives him a tired smile. Spencer, as he drives home to his apartment, thinking about what books he and Y/N will read together. He wonders what kind of books are her favorite, if they have any authors that they can obsess over together, or if what she thinks a poet’s prose is.

The summer air rushing in through the window is nowhere as warm and as comforting as thought of Spencer finally having a friend that isn’t able to read the scars of his past in the text bubbles that pop up on her screen.

--

When Spencer opens his eyes for the first time that morning, he isn’t sure where he is. Sometimes, before he can stop his thoughts from travelling there, Spencer thinks he’s still in jail. He hates the feeling of terror that rushes over him but he hates the idea of being vulnerable a little bit more. But the softness of his pillows and the coolness of his cotton sheets remind him that he’s not sleeping on a hard cot with only a layer of fabric over his body. The light streams in through the half closed blinds, and Spencer judges by how brightly the sun shines in, it must be around 9:45 am.

He supposes that he prefers the way the sun’s rays paint horizontal bars across his face more than the vertical bars that cast gray shadows over his cell at Milburn Penitentiary.

It’s a day off from work, so Spencer didn’t set an alarm, instead allowing his mind and his body to catch up on some much needed rest. The nightmares have been getting better, but his dreams are still haunted by the way that he hardly recognizes himself anymore. Deciding that it will be a day spent in pajamas, Spencer goes to his bookshelf in his bedroom to pick out a couple of novels to read while he drinks his morning coffee and defrosts some of Luke’s strawberry pastries.

Before heading out of his room, Spencer stops himself in the doorway. He replays the events of last night. He declined to go out with the rest of the team, while he walked to his car he thought about the crickets telling the temperature, and he read over Y/N’s messages.

Y/N.

He promised he’d text her back in the morning about their book club. Last night, she didn’t seem to mind Spencer’s long messages and awkward phrasing. He still doesn’t really know how this Book Buddy thing would work, but since he found Y/N’s number on the flyer, he can only assume that she knows what to do. He leaps on his bed, landing with thud on his belly, to grab his phone that charges on his nightstand.

Spencer settles at his kitchen table, a cup of steaming hot Dark Roast coffee in a Captain Spock mug in one hand and, surprisingly, his phone in the other. He scrolls through the messages from last night, Y/N’s cat and emojis tempt a smile to Spencer’s face.

Not entirely sure how to start the conversation again, Spencer looks around for inspiration until his eyes land on a certain fish tank in the corner of his apartment. He snaps a quick picture of Leo and attaches it to the message.

Spencer: Good Morning from Leo & Spencer

Spencer sets down his phone after a moment when he realizes that Y/N is probably not going to answer him back in a couple of seconds. He takes out a strawberry pastry from his freezer and puts it into the toaster oven on a non-stick baking sheet. His thumbs run across the texture of the book he started on the plane ride after his and Luke’s ill fated poker game. It's a thin book of collected essays on the meaning of life. Camus, to Spencer, is a little pessimistic with his droning on about the meaninglessness of life. Though Spence has seen the absolute worst that humanity has to offer, he still has to believe that there’s a deeper meaning behind it all.

His toaster oven rings, altering him so that his toasted strawberry pastry is cooked. He plates his breakfast and pours himself another cup of coffee- he’ll need it to get through Camus’s section on Absurdism this early in the morning. But the flash of Spencer’s phone screen sends him reaching for his phone. Y/N replied to his message.

Y/N: hi leo!!!

Y/N: and you too Spencer :) Did you get a good night’s sleep. You got back late it seems.

Spencer, taking a bite of the strawberry pastry, ignores the burning sensation in his mouth. He types out a response to Y/N as he washes down the bite with a swing of coffee.

Spencer: I did, thank you. Can you tell me a little bit more about this book buddy thing. From what I gathered from the flyer it’s like a little book club of our own and we meet at the bookstore?

It doesn’t take long for Y/N to respond. The little gray dots pop up almost immediately after Spencer’s message is delivered.

Y/N: That’s about right! Is it okay if I call you? Kinda easier to talk that way 🤷‍♀️

Spencer reads over the message a couple of times. He doesn’t really like to talk on the phone and only does it out of necessity. He’s pretty sure that his voice is grating and his vocal fry is quite irritating. Yet, he finds himself replying “yes” to Y/N. Soon enough, his phone buzzes in his hand and Spencer has to remind himself how to pick up a call.

“Spencer? Um, this is Spencer Reid, right?” the voice says. It’s a woman’s voice and he can only assume that it’s Y/N, considering it is her phone number calling him.

“Y/N, uh hi. This is Dr. Spencer- I mean this is Spencer,” he says, nearly forgetting that Y/N doesn’t know him as Dr. Reid, but as just Spencer. It’s been a long time since someone has known him as Spencer.

“Oh great! It’s wonderful to finally have a voice to your name. So about these buddy reads. You seem to have a good grasp of what they are,” Y/N’s voice trails off a little bit at the end and Spencer finds it natural to fill in the silence.

“Yes, the flyer was quite informative. But I was wondering, do we read the same books or do we read different books?” Spencer asks, trying to restrain himself from scaring Y/N off. But something about her made him think that she didn’t scare easily.

Y/N chuckles lightly in the speaker of her phone, “that’s a good question, uh, I was actually going to ask you what you would rather. We can read the same books, or if it’s okay with you we can choose what the other would read for that week,”

“Oh really?” Spencer says, very much aware how his voice rises a couple of octaves. He can’t trust himself to hold back on rambling over the phone Y/N, so he resorts to using his strained, brittle voice that’s full of hesitation and restraint.

“That’s the plan, so whatcha thinking, Spencer,” Y/N says playfully, like she can sense that phone conversations maybe not make him feel at ease. There’s something so natural and silvery about her voice; it reminds Spencer of an audiobook reader. While he’s not too keen on audiobooks, he’s sure that he’d listen to anything she reads or has to say.

“Um, I think it sounds interesting to pick out books for each other. I tend to gravitate towards more technical books or even books that aren’t in English so, uh, I think it would be interesting to get out of my comfort zone,” Spencer says, cringing internally at using the word “interesting” twice in a couple of sentences.

“Well, as long as you don’t pick out something in physics or anything by Ayn Rand then I’d say we’re good,” Y/N says. Spencer thinks it’s a joke, but he’s not too sure how to respond.

“Will you still be my Book Buddy if I read 1 out of 2 of those?” Spencer asks, hoping she’d get that he is trying to continue the joke.

“Oh no Spencer please don’t tell me you’re an Ayn Rand fanboy,” she says, and by the airy way she laughs, Spencer ventures to guess his joke landed successfully.

“So,” Spencer starts, he never has made plans with people outside of his team, and on top of that, there’s something about Y/N’s quickness that makes him a little nervous to meet her.

“I’m talking your ear off, aren’t I? Please Spencer, if you’re going to be my Book Buddy, you’re going to have to get used to me talking a lot, especially you pick out good books, which, I already have a feeling you’re going to be favorite Book Buddy,”

For once in his life, Spencer doesn’t really know how to respond. He lets out something in between a strangled laughter and a noncommittal chuckle.

“So,” Y/N says, mirroring Spencer’s earlier words, “so are you free tonight, I can meet you at the bookstore..”

Y/N’s voice trails off and Spencer leaps to finish her sentences. It doesn’t feel like his interjecting or interrupting, but like he’s snapping a puzzle piece together.

“Does 7 work?” “7 is great, Spencer. It’s a date,”

Those three little words send Spencer’s eyes flying wide open. He scrambles to come up with answer to louden the silence that falls, but he swears he can hear a string of quiet curses before Y/N manages to squeak out a small “goodbye,”

Y/N’s last words play back in Spencer’s ears. He scolds himself for being so weird and awkward that the very idea of going on a date with him would send Y/N in a tizzy. It’s not a date, because Spencer can’t think about it being a date. It’s not a date because of the looming photo above his mantle that freezes his future in the past. It’s not a date because of the nightmare of vertical bars that haunt his dreams

It’s not a date. It’s so not a date because Spencer would call Luke to come over to help him if it was.

“Hey Luke,” Spencer says, trying to control the nervous waves in his voice, “no man, I’m fine, it’s uh, easier if you just come over. I’m fine, really,”

Y/N: I really hope you're not an Ayn Rand fanboy 😉

It’s so not a date.

--THANK YOU FOR READING--

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[actuallybarb]

The Aftermath ~ Part 2

Summary: y/n gets knocked around by a water monster, has secret-sharing time with peter, and decides mj is more important than her pride. sleep deprivation and caffeine consumption are definitely involved. 

Pairing: peter parker x reader

Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, mysterio being a dick, trauma, it’s marvel what did you expect

Word Count: 3978 give or take

A/N: endgame is canon, *vomits*, but we’ve all got a thing for broken peter parker, even if all i want is his never ending happiness

                                                         ///////////

“I can’t believe you punched Flash.” Brad, of course, decided to sit next to me on the gondola ride to the hotel. Figures.

“You better believe it, ‘cuz it actually happened.” I tried to pay as little attention to him as possible and just take pictures on my phone, but he kept talking.

“Why don’t you like me?”

I groaned. “Because, Brad, you ask stupid questions like that.”

We pulled up to the hotel and were all sufficiently underwhelmed.

“It’s flooded!”

“The hotel is sinking?”

I considered helping the hotel out, at least while we stayed at it, but there wasn’t much hope left for it. I took my room key and thanked my lucky stars I didn’t have a room on the ground level. In fact, I was sharing with MJ. I waited patiently behind her as she jiggled the door open.

“Is it safe to assume the building will crumble any second now?”

MJ burst out laughing. “I think that’s an understatement.”

“If I get TB, I’m suing.”

“The hotel?”

“Harrington.”

She smiled. “C’mon, let’s get outside before we drown.”

We walked along the water and let the sun happily reflect on our exhausted faces. Everyone was enjoying themselves, but I was starting to feel queasy. It was almost imperceptible, but I could feel the city moving with the water, and it was making me sick. I started lagging back and tried to find my “sea legs,” but Peter noticed and stuck back too. “You alright?”

I plastered on a weak smile. “That long flight is catching up with me. I’m just going to grab an espresso, I’ll meet up with you guys soon.” He looked at me one more time before nodding and meeting the rest of the group.

I didn’t completely lie — I was getting an espresso. But I wasn’t going to catch up with them, at least, not for a while. I needed to get away from the water, even just for a little bit.

I can’t fly, per se. I can control the air currents around me and change them how I want them too, like I did on the airplane with the turbulence. I can do that with most elements, (except wood, I hate wood) and that gives me a heightened awareness of them. I’m basically the Avatar and the characters from Percy Jackson. All I have to do is shave my head and tattoo blue arrows on my body. (And, yes, I did watch all seven seasons of the two series and read all ten Percy Jackson books to actually figure out what the hell it was that I could do. It helped. Clearly.)

I just lifted myself to the top of the coffee shop. I’m a sucker for espresso, I like to be close to it. The distance helped. I felt grounded enough to walk on the normal streets of Venice again, but when I touched down, I suddenly lurched to the right.

“What the hell,” I muttered. I got my answer soon enough. A huge river monster was crashing its giant water arms on anything it could see. And I was directly in its path. “Oh, shit.”

I shouldn’t have been as terrified as I was. I mean, come on, I can control water. Dissipate the water man, Y/N, I can almost hear you yelling at me. Shut up, I was scared. This thing was twice as tall as any of the buildings, and it had a direct path to anywhere in the city. Me, a seventeen year old girl, against that? Not a good idea.

So, like any logical human being, I ran. And I still got clobbered with water and ended up actually falling into the water. Let me just tell you, Italy needs to get a Brita, ‘cause their river is nasty.

But, once I was actually in the water, the river monster looked a lot less intimidating. Sure, the water was churning around and sucking everything into its path, but I was in my element — literally. I got close to it, like, really close. I pushed against the flow of the water and tried to stop the monster from forming, and it worked, for a little bit. It slowed down, and I got some newfound momentum, when all of the sudden, it all stopped, and tons of water crashed to the surface. That was my cue to leave, but then something caught my eye. A flash of metal was in the water. Luck would have it, though, that I could bend water and metal (shout out to Toph Beifong). I latched onto the metal and pulled it close to me, but I couldn’t make out what it was. Didn’t mean I would trash it though, this water was disgusting enough. I tucked it in my pocket and started swimming to the surface.

I got out of the water actually pretty close to the rest of the class, but I was the only one completely drenched.

“Oh, Y/N, good! We’re all here,” Mr. Harrington celebrated. “Let’s get back to the hotel, your families will want to know you’re all fine.”

“You’re soaked.”

I shivered, even though it wasn’t cold. The temperature difference between the water and the air was enough to make me shake. “Astute observation, Brad.”

“Here, you can have my jacket.”

“Thanks, but I don’t want it.” I kept walking and managed to bump into Peter. “You got wet too?”

“Just splashed. Did you get thrown in?”

“Yeah, the bastard caught me by surprise. I’m okay, just cold.”

“Here.” Peter slung his backpack around and took out a mostly dry sweatshirt. He gestured it my way, but I didn’t take it. “It’s just a jacket, Y/N. You’ll get a cold with your hair dripping all around you.”

I knew that wasn’t how colds worked, but I took it anyway and let it soak in the water from my hair. It helped, surprisingly, at least making me not shiver. We made it back to the hotel with no other complications, aside from Flash tripping over his own shoelace because he was too busy recording for his Instagram followers to pay attention to where he was going. I quickly went upstairs and changed out of my clothes, putting on a pair of sweats and a sweatshirt that used to belong to Jessica. The room had a tiny balcony, and I took advantage of it and laid out all of my clothes and Peter’s sweatshirt. The last thing MJ or I needed was a puddle of water to slip in.

I went back downstairs and sat close to the top of the stairs, not wanting to get anywhere near the water at the bottom. MJ was a few steps below me, and Peter was leaning against the stairs, talking to someone on the phone. He hung up, and I slipped past MJ and wrapped around to the phone. I was about to dial, when I remembered something. “Hey, Peter.”

“What’s up?”

I pulled him away from the stairs and whispered, “Is the plan still working?”

“The—oh, that plan. Uh, yeah, I think so. I got her this necklace of a black dahlia from a glass shop, and I want to give it to her at the top of the Eiffel Tower.”

I smiled. “That’s adorable. I’m going to use the phone, do you mind?”

“Oh, sorry, I’ll get out of your way.” We smiled at each other, then I grabbed the receiver and dialed.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Mom, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh my—John, it’s her. Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine. Harrington wanted all of us to call our parents, so this is me, doing my due diligence. We’re still set for Paris tomorrow, so I’ll call you then, okay? Love you.” I didn’t even really wait for them to respond before I hung up. Truth was, I didn’t want to talk to them. I didn’t really want to talk to anyone, but I had to make one more phone call.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Jess, it’s Y/N. You watch the news nonstop, so I figured I’d call, let you know I’m okay.”

“Thank god, I was so worried about you. What happened?”

“This water monster literally came out of nowhere and knocked me straight into the murky junk, it was disgusting.”

“Were you able to help at all?” Jess was one of two other people in the world who knew about what I could do. She was the one who bought me the tv shows and books, of course she knew.

“I slowed it down at some point, but then all of a sudden it just dissipated, it was weird. I did find this weird metal thing in the water, I picked it up. I’ll send you a picture of it when I get the chance.”

“Okay. Call me soon, got it?”

“Count on it. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

I wasn’t in the mood to talk anymore, so I walked up the stairs, ready to succumb to the moldy mattress in my room. Unfortunately, I had to collect my clothes.

Everything was nearly dry, and Peter’s sweatshirt was definitely dry, so I brought them inside. I almost didn’t want to give Peter his sweatshirt back, just because it was so soft, but knowing him, it was probably the only one he brought, so I walked the ten feet to his front door and knocked. I wasn’t told not to enter, so I turned the knob and walked in. “Hey, Pete, I—“ I stopped with my hand by my face, terrified. A small dart was less than an inch away from my palm. I turned to the man in the corner who was holding the gun. “Did you just try to shoot me?”

“You’re the one who came barging in.” The scary looking guy with the eyepatch leaned forward. “What’s your name?”

I laughed heartlessly. “Ha, yeah, like I’m going to tell the man who just pulled a gun on me.” I looked at Peter and threw his jacket at him. “I brought this back.” Then I turned to the man in the chair. I crunched the dart, letting it fold on top of itself before his eyes, then I let it fall to the floor. “You can keep that.” I looked at Peter one more time, then slammed the door on my way out.

MJ was laying on her bed when I walked back in, but she could tell something was up. She had impeccable observational skills. “You good?”

I was pacing, a bad habit I picked up after The Snap first happened. “I just need to look something up.”

“Well, the hotel might be sinking, but they’ve at least got good wifi.”

I finally sat and opened my laptop, then turned on my VPN and put the whole device on ‘incognito mode.’ I had some serious investigations to conduct, I didn’t need the government to see what I was doing. Okay, I only had one serious investigation, but that could possibly have lead to more, so I kept my guard up.

First search: scary-looking black man with an eyepatch. The guy’s face was the first image that popped up. Nick Fury. Ex-director of SHIELD before all of that went to shit. Now he’s running some ‘underground’ SHIELD, I guess. Now I know the guy’s name.

But why was he talking to Peter? And why did he shoot me?

I was up all night doing research. Not just on Nick Fury, but on the metal piece I had found in the water, the Avengers, and as much as I could find on Peter Parker himself. Sooner than I thought, the sun peeked between the curtains at the window and MJ’s alarm came blaring through the speakers on her phone.

“Morning,” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes and finally taking a break from my computer screen.

“Did you sleep at all?”

“Are you going to yell at me if I say no?” MJ just pursed her lips. I knew she wouldn’t.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve pulled an all nighter. At least this one was productive.

“What’s on your bed?” She picked up a small spring and looked it over before putting it back beside the rest of the pieces of the metal thing. “Did you take apart your toothbrush?”

I chuckled. “No, I found this thing in the river when I got knocked in. I didn’t know what it was, so I took it apart.”

“Have you figured it out?”

“Not yet.” I rubbed my eyes again and groaned. “We’re going to Paris today, right?”

“Yeah.” MJ stood and stretched and I caught the smallest smile on her face when she replied. I smiled too and packed up my project. Something for another late night.

We were escorted outside with our luggage in tow, but Mr. Harrington happily informed us we would be taking a bus to Prague instead of a train to Paris. You’ve got to be kidding.

Peter was walking to the bus in front of me, but I grabbed his arm and dragged him away. “What the hell, Peter?”

“You can control metal?” He was in awe. His admiration would’ve been flattering if I wasn’t so pissed.

“You had Nick Fury in your room last night. I almost got shot last night. What the hell is going on?”

“It was only a tranquilizer, you would’ve been fine—“

“That’s not the point, Parker!” I basically hissed at him. He looked a little surprised that I was so upset. I took a deep breath and tried to calm down enough to not start shouting. “We were attacked by a water monster, I almost got shot, I didn’t sleep, and now four people in the world know what I can do, so give me some damn answers, because I sure as hell deserve them.”

Peter looked around, like he was looking for an escape, but I was ready. I might not have slept in almost 48 hours, but I wasn’t going to let him get away so easily.

Then Harrington was calling us over to the bus. Perfect timing.

“Can we talk on the bus?”

I nodded and let him lead the way to the back. Surprisingly we were the only ones that occupied those seats and the ones surrounding, but that’s what happens when you get a bunch of nerds in the same vehicle—they all sit in the front. He sat low in his seat, and I did the same, and I let him start the conversation. Prying it out of him wouldn’t be too successful, I figured, not with something like this.

We got fifteen minutes out of the city before he started talking. “Fury wanted me to go with him to meet this guy who defeated the Elemental yesterday.”

“Why you? And what’s an Elemental?”

“The water monster, it’s called an Elemental. And he asked me because I’m—I’m,” his voice dropped to an even lower whisper, “I’m Spider-Man.”

I almost didn’t believe him.

I almost burst out laughing at the hilarity of it all. Peter Parker, Spider-Man? Ridiculous.

But, remember, I learned from Toph Beifong. I can tell when people are lying.

And Peter?

Peter wasn’t lying.

Well, shit.

How do I even respond to something like that?

“Okay.” Good one. “Who was the other guy you met with?”

“You—you’re not surprised?”

Oh, young Parker, I was dumbfounded. But I had learned two years earlier how to control my heart rate, so he would never know how freaked out I actually was.

“You saw me stop a dart mid-air, Peter, you being Spider-Man is hardly out of the ordinary.”

He looked relieved, but he still hadn’t answered my question.

“Who was the other guy?”

“Oh. His name is Quentin Beck. He’s—“ another low whisper, “he’s from an alternate universe. He fought the Elementals before, and he and them got sucked into our universe when Tha—Hulk brought everyone back.” He didn’t look me in the eye when he talked about the snaps. I wouldn’t either, but I felt the little blip his heart made at the mention of Thanos’s name, so I didn’t push. Even though Quentin Beck and his story sounded like bullshit.

“Do you have a picture of him?” Peter looked at me skeptically, but hooked up his mask to his phone. A somewhat blurry picture of Quentin Beck popped up, and he sent it to me, but he didn’t seem happy about it. “I just want to know who to look out for. If I start chucking rocks at people, I don’t want to hit the wrong one.” The lie seemed to relax him a little bit. It wasn’t a complete lie, I did want to know who to look out for, but I also wanted to find this guy in our universe. “What’s the plan now?”

“They think another one will pop up in Prague—“

“Peter, we’re driving toward Prague. Shouldn’t we be going away from it?”

“I have to help fight this thing—“

“Let the Beck guy do it!” My voice had risen above a whisper and Peter quickly shushed me. “He’s done it before, he can do it again.”

“They need my help, I can—“

“Peter.” He kept muttering, convincing himself he needed to help, but I wasn’t having it. “You don’t have to save the world, Peter.”

That got him to shut up.

“Yes, I do.”

“No, you don’t. You don’t owe the world a goddamn thing.”

“Help me.” That got me to shut up. “Help me fight the Elemental.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Because you’re one of the only people who can! The next one that’s coming, they’re pretty sure it’s the fire elemental, and any time it absorbs metal it can get stronger. You can help us beat it by keeping the metal away from it!”

Oh. He didn’t know I could do more than that.

“Peter, I — ”

“Please.” Peter Parker had the best puppy-dog eyes I had ever seen in my life. But I wasn’t convinced.

“I’m here for a school trip, Pete, not to save the world.”

It’s like I sucker punched him. He deflated immediately and looked away, and I got up and moved a few rows ahead.

I wasn’t opposed to helping, but I didn’t want to get near Quentin Beck until I had a full story on him. And that would take a lot of research and caffeine.

“Hey, Eugene.” We had stopped for a bathroom break and he was still using his phone to update his Instagram followers on all of the happenings on our way to Prague.

“Are you here to break my jaw again, Y/L/N?”

I looked at his face and didn’t see any swelling, barely any discoloration. “Nope, you’re healing nicely, I’m impressed. Do you have a hotspot?”

“Why do you think I have a hotspot?”

“Because you’ve been on your phone the entire trip.”

“What will you do for me if I let you on it?”

I rolled my eyes and groaned. Of course he would ask for a favor. “Anything. Within reason.”

“Can I cash in on the favor later?”

Goddamnit. “Sure, whatever.”

He laughed maniacally. “Okay, Flash Hotspot is the user, and spidermanrocks is the password, no spaces, no caps.”

“Really, Eugene, you went with that password?” I almost had to laugh. He would have an aneurysm if he knew who was really Spider-Man.

“What?”

“It’s a bit obvious, don’t you think?”

He rolled his eyes. “Whatever. What were you doing with Parker?”

“Plotting the downfall of the European Union.” I let out a laugh. “We were talking about the water monster, and how there’s a light festival in Prague that’d be cool to go to.”

“Gonna go on a date with Penis Parker?”

“I was actually thinking about asking Brad.” That made Flash laugh, and I smiled myself. “But seriously, stop calling him that.”

“Whatever.”

Peter looked flustered as he got back on the bus, but I didn’t pry. But Brad looked awfully smug as he sat beside MJ. Focus, Y/N, you have to find Quentin Beck. I hunkered down in my seat and slipped my headphones over my ears, then logged onto Flash’s hotspot and got to work.

The number of illegal websites I went on was not something I’m willing to admit out loud, but I couldn’t find anything. Not a single facial-recognition scan showed any results for Quentin Beck, and I tried as many as I could get my hands on. But the more I looked at his face, the more I felt like I’d seen him before. And honestly, it was pissing me off.

I stared at the image on my phone, and I had a gut feeling it had to do with Tony Stark. This Beck guy was somehow connected to Stark. It’s like the answer was on the tip of my tongue. I rubbed my temples in frustration, wishing I could just reach into my memory and pull out the information when it hit me. “Memory, you’re so stupid, Y/N.”

Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing, affectionately called B.A.R.F. was presented by Tony Stark at a lecture he did at MIT almost seven years ago. But this guy had released a paper about it six months before—a guy named Quentin Beck. I remembered reading about it for a school project, and the picture of the guy was the same person Peter met.

“There’s no way.”

I looked up the article, and sure enough, I was right. Quentin Beck was the scientist behind the technology, and he was an employee for Stark Industries when the article was published.

Great, now I had to break into Stark Industries and access their archives while on a hotspot provided by Eugene Thompson. Lucky for me, we pulled into the parking lot for our much improved hotel, which meant free wifi. Unlucky for me, Mr. Harrington now felt he needed to start bossing us around, considering he was the teacher. Which meant I had to put my investigations to the side. For now.

“Okay, kids, grab your room keys, same roommates as before. Meet back in the lobby at five o’clock for the light festival!”

MJ and I dragged our cases up to the third floor. We each chose a bed, but she was moody, more than her usual angst. But I didn’t have time to play therapist. “Did we get a wifi password?”

“Uh, yeah.” She passed over the card after logging in herself and sat on her bed, glancing back at me every ten seconds.

I was typing away madly, but her stares were making me uncomfortable. “Why are you staring?”

She looked away quickly. “I’m not staring.”

“You were totally staring.” I kept clicking and typing. “What?”

“What are you looking for? I know you stayed up all last night on your computer.”

To tell or not to tell, that is the question. Not a very hard one, but it’s still the question. This secret isn’t mine to make public, though. “I’m trying to prove someone wrong.”

“Who?”

I hesitated. “Peter.”

“Why do you need to prove him wrong?”

“Because he’s gotten his idyllic little hopes up and I want to squash them like a bug.” I glanced at her and smirked. “I’m kidding. I just don’t think he’s right about something, and I’m proving it.”

She nodded, not entirely convinced. “You’re coming to the light festival, right?”

I looked at her. Really looked at her. She was pulling her long sleeves over her wrists and switching her weight from foot to foot—uncomfortable as hell. I gave her a genuine smile and closed my computer. “Wouldn’t miss it. Wanna help me figure out what to wear?”

Friends come before saving the world any day.

tags: @eridanuswave @vampirestrawberries​

[jovialyouthmusic]

Special Delivery

I make plans to take in a lodger, and we discuss living arrangements. Ginger chafes at being kept inside.

Word Count 2839

A/N no warnings, just fluff and a little frisson of excitement. No under 18s please

6 Working things out

It was the day I had booked the removal company to move my belongings to my new home, and take some other items back to my terraced house ready to rent out in a month or two. I also had to put Ginger in his cat basket and take him there. The house had a porch, and the main door lead into the kitchen with the dining room just off it. There was a hall beyond the kitchen, with stairs leading to the first floor. The lounge was to the right of the kitchen, and to the left there was the bathroom and a good sized downstairs room that could be a study, but which I had decided would be Fabio’s bedroom. Upstairs there were two more rooms, one of which was to be my bedroom, and the other I would use as a box room or study. There was a tiny ensuite bathroom for my use.

Ginger was confined to the upstairs spare bedroom while the removal men brought in the furniture. I planned to keep him inside for a week before being allowed the freedom of the garden and the fields beyond, so he knew it was his new home and wouldn’t try to find his way back. I felt sure he would be very happy with the countryside behind the house and wouldn’t stray, but thought it best to get him familiar with the inside of the house.

The day was difficult, directing the men as to what went where, and making sure Ginger was safe and undisturbed upstairs. We all stopped for a lunch break and I took a look at my phone for missed messages, which I had put on airplane mode. I stared at the number of text messages from Fabio, and opened the first.

Lisa, I was bad last night

Are you busy? Call me?

Please answer, I’m sorry

I dialled his number straight away, and it was answered in a flash

‘Fabio, it’s me…’

‘Senora – Lisa’ his voice was raw. ‘I was bad, I drank too much…I didn’t go to the gym’ I interrupted before he got any further

‘Fabio, all you did was throw stones at my window’

‘I’m sorry’ he said faintly

‘It’s fine, we all make mistakes. I told you to go home, that’s all’

‘What did I say to you, senora?’

‘Just that you think about me a lot’ He was silent for a moment

‘I do. I’m sorry Lisa, I can stay in my flat, you don’t have to have me at your house’

‘It’s fine, really’ I assured him. ‘Look Fabio, I’m still busy, but when I’m settled you can come and see me and we’ll talk. Is that okay?’

‘Yes. Thankyou, you are kind’

‘Do you have a hangover?’

‘My head hurt. I’m better now.’

‘Good.’ I answered ‘Next time we get drunk together.’ At last I heard him chuckle

‘Perhaps. We talk later, yes?’

‘Yes, I promise.’ I rang off, and took a deep breath. It would be a good idea to lay some ground rules with my new lodger – presuming that we went ahead with him moving in. I wanted him to come, of course, who wouldn’t? He was my Instagram crush made flesh. But meeting him in person was different. He was genuine, inquisitive, and funny, and I enjoyed his company. I knew he wouldn’t be around for long, so I was going to take things as they came.

‘Hey – Miss?’ The removal foreman was trying to get my attention. ‘We’re good to go now – what next?’

-------

By the time I had everything where I wanted it, checked on Ginger and had something to eat, I knew Fabio was working, and I was exhausted. I made sure all the windows were closed and the door locked, and let the cat investigate the house. He was hesitant at first, and went round sniffing everything. He wolfed down his kitty kibble when he saw it, and cast a disdainful eye over his litter tray. I was too tired to do anything but go to bed, so that’s what I did, leaving the door open so Ginger could join me if he wanted. Before I put my head on the pillow I sent a text to Fabio.

All moved now. Tired, will call you tomorrow.

You don’t want to order pizza?’

Not now thanks, going to bed.

Sweet dreams senora x

I stared at the little kiss at the end of his message, and found myself kissing my fingertips and placing them on the screen before I put the phone by the side of the bed and laid my head on the pillow. Ginger jumped up on the bed and nestled into the crook of my knees again as I drifted off to sleep.

-------

The next day dawned with sunlight creeping around the edges of the curtains. I had slept well as it was so much quieter. That would be different in the spring and summer when the dawn chorus was at its height, but in late autumn it wasn’t light until a decent time anyway. Ginger raced in from whatever place he had moved to and butted his head against me to tell me his dish was empty.

‘Okay Ginge, breakfast it is. Do you like your new home?’ He wound round my legs as I pulled my dressing gown on, and yowled at me to hurry up. As I sat in the dining room eating toast he jumped up onto the windowsill and chittered at the birds outside.

‘Not yet, Ginger.’ I told him. ‘you’ll have to stay inside a week or two, can’t have you going back to Jackson Street.’ I scratched his head and he huffed at me in surprise before breaking into a purr. I looked at the time and thought that perhaps he would be up and about after a long night shift.

Morning Fabio

He didn’t answer straight away, so I went outside, making sure Ginger was shut out of the kitchen, effectively meaning he couldn’t slip outside when I went back in the house, which didn’t please him at all. I hated being unkind to him but it was for his own good. My phone rang and I sat on a bench looking over the lawn, still neat from Martin’s good deed the other day. It felt strange to think it was my home now.

‘Buenos dias senora.’ His voice was sleepy.

‘Oh, I’m sorry did I wake you?’

‘Yes, but is okay.’ I wondered if he was still in bed, and thoughts of his toned and bare chest and belly filled my mind. ‘It went well?’

‘Yes, all to plan. We should meet up and talk about things.’

‘Si, si – ah yes. We go for coffee after the gym?’

‘Yes, where would you like to go?’

‘You choose, senora – somewhere English.’ 

‘Okay. How about the coffee shop under the town hall – Suzie’s Pantry?’

‘I find it – I call you after the gym?

‘Okay, see you later.’

As promised, I arrived not much later than I had planned, to find him sitting waiting with a cup of black coffee. He got up and greeted me with his usual kiss on the cheek and a warm smile.

‘Hola Lisa’ he said ‘Tell me, what would an Englishman have for a late breakfast?’

‘How hungry are you?’ I asked.

‘Not too much’ he replied. ‘I know about your ‘full English’

‘You could perhaps have a bacon butty if the full English is too much’ I suggested. Typically, the full English breakfast was a bit of a belly filler, consisting of bacon, sausage, egg, and other things such as baked beans, tomatoes and black pudding depending on where in the country you were and what was on hand. He raised his eyebrows in query ‘a buttered bread roll with bacon inside’ I explained ‘and you can have sauce – you know, like we had with chips – ketchup or brown sauce’ He nodded, and I called the waitress over to order.

‘I pay’ he offered ‘you are hungry?’

‘It’s a little early for lunch but I’ll have the same as you.’ I called the waitress over to order, and she went off behind the counter to talk to the cook.

‘I am embarrassed, Lisa.’ he said as she disappeared. ‘I came to your house and threw stones at the window. I think I only wanted to talk – but it was wrong of me. Can you forgive me for being stupid and drunk?’

‘Of course I can, Fabio.’ I said gently ‘But I came here to talk about you moving in with me.’

‘You don’t want.’ he said sadly. ‘I understand.’

‘’No, it’s okay. We should just probably set a few ground rules.’ He looked puzzled again, and I thought perhaps that wouldn’t translate properly. ‘What I mean is, decide how much you pay, how much you help in the house, that sort of thing.’

‘You want me to move in?’ he asked.

‘Yes Fabio, I do.’ He reached across the table and took my hand in his, his gaze intense.

‘Eso es muy, muy bueno - maravilloso – it’s good.’ he said earnestly. ‘I tell you now, the person below me, he called me bad names. Is not a good place.’

‘Oh Fabio, why didn’t you tell me?’ He shrugged.

‘It is no big deal, but I want good memories of England. Staying with you will…’ he smiled at me ‘I will remember it well’ I noted that he had not said like a brother again, and drew a shaky breath. The waitress brought our order, and I asked for more coffee. Fabio put sauce in his bacon butty and tucked into it with relish. I smiled and took my time with my butty. The window seat we had was good for watching people outside walking from shop to shop in the autumn sunshine.

‘I try to get some modelling work.’ he said ‘Fly from Newcastle or Glasgow to Germany or Spain.’ I quirked an eyebrow at him. ‘Is easy, no? I go and work for a week, come back here, rest, another shoot until I have money for the flight to Argentina and more.’ I shifted uneasily in my seat. The idea that I could lend him the money to go home was at the back of my mind, but the truth was that I didn’t want him to leave – not yet.

‘People think the life of a model is glamorous.’ he went on, taking another sip of his coffee. I carried on munching my food. ‘I told you – there is much waiting around, sitting in makeup, waiting for the right light if you’re outside. The pay sometimes is not good, but if I don’t work, people don’t see me and it’s hard to get more work. So this winter I look in Europe for the summer shoots. If I am lucky, it will still be summer when I go back to Argentina, and then I work there.’ He grinned ‘Some times I don’t know if it’s summer or winter. I model winter clothes in summer too, that is hot work’ Inwardly I breathed a sigh of relief that I had not offered to help him pay as evidently he had been expecting to spend some months in Europe anyway.

‘Your Instagram account must help raise your profile.’ I commented.

‘Yes, I must take some more photos soon. Perhaps I drink tea in your garden.’

‘If you like, you can move in tomorrow on your day off. How about you pay half the rent you’re paying now, and do some work in the garden – and maybe some housework – washing up and so on? You don’t have to give me any money until you’re settled up with your landlord.’

‘Yes. I like. We should write it down.’ His face brightened ‘I can cook for you – my paella is muy bueno’ He made a gesture with his fingers, pressing them together with his thumb, kissing his fingers and gesturing upward with his hand.

‘You might struggle to find good ingredients. We can go shopping and take a look in the supermarket.’ Something struck me just then as he went back to finishing off the muffin.

‘I have a bicycle in the shed. You could use that to get to work – I don’t have to drive back and forth, you don’t have to wait for the bus or call a taxi – and you keep fit.’

‘Marveloso!’ he grinned. ‘I ride your bike to work.’

‘It’ll be easy going in.’ I remarked. ‘It’s all downhill, but coming back will be hard in the dark, and if it rains…’

‘There is an English saying for this – we cross the bridge when we reach it?’ I smiled.

‘Well done - we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.’ I corrected him. He had a good vocabulary, only the word order and some tenses were not quite right, but I reminded myself again that I would do no better with a foreign language. Besides, it was adorable and added to his charm. I suspected that unless one learned a language very early on in life, you would be unlikely to be fluent, and the matter of accents added to the complexity of language.

I decided we should go back to the house to take a look and see if he needed anything else and work out a few details, so Fabio paid and we walked to the car and drove straight there. Once there I greeted Ginger again, who baulked for a moment at Fabio, then remembered who he was and rolled over to show his belly, stretching luxuriously before leaping up and rubbing round his ankles for a head scratch. I showed my guest the downstairs room and its layout and briefly showed him the two upstairs rooms.

‘If you have the downstairs room, I’ll have these.’ I explained. ‘And we can share the other downstairs rooms – lounge, kitchen, dining room.’ I had my own tiny ensuite bathroom upstairs with a shower and toilet, and the downstairs bathroom had a bath with shower over it. He was happy with the room, and we sat down and wrote out a rough agreement.

After that, we went outside to the shed, which was full of gardening tools, the lawnmower and various DIY tools that my father had used in the past. Fabio helped clear a way to get the bicycle and took it out onto the lawn to check it over and give it a test run while I lingered in the shed and smiled fondly, remembering my father showing me how to saw wood or hammer in a nail. I was an only child, so he had no sons to pass his skills on to, but he taught me all the same.

After making adjustments to the saddle and checking the brakes and tyres, Fabio declared that the bike was roadworthy. However, if he was going to ride it after dark he would need lights, and I made a note to visit a bike shop in town to get them.

‘You offered to make paella some time’ I reminded him ‘I need to do some food shopping, so we can go and see what the fish counter at the supermarket is like’

‘But yes.’ he grinned. ‘We go now?’

‘Sure, we just need to put the bike away and get some bags and we’re good to go.’

‘Good to go.’ He gave me a thumbs up ‘I know this one.’

‘Great – you see to the bike and I’ll lock up the house.’

-------

A little while later, I dropped Fabio off at his flat. He had decided to get fresh ingredients when he cooked, which wouldn’t be for the next couple of days, and I had done some food shopping for the next week or so. Once home, I had pasta with pesto, and a glass of white wine. We had agreed that he would move in the next day, as Mario had allowed him to quit the flat straight away – Fabio thought he had a couple of tenants waiting and would be glad of the income. It did mean he lost his deposit, but he thought it was a price worth paying, and he said he was looking forward to sleeping somewhere quiet with plenty of fresh air and outdoor space. I could understand that, as it was a major reason for me quitting the other house.

I went to bed after washing the few dishes I had used, realising that I’d have to tell Martin at some point what I had done. He would probably give me more dire warnings, but I was happy with things as they were – or would soon be. Everything had happened so fast, but then, I told myself as Ginger snuggled up behind my knees that I deserved some excitement and romance.

[wdw-spidey]

Missing Him - part 2 (Tom Holland)

Summary: Visiting Tom after having missed him for a long time. (Kind of cute and fluffy) 

Warnings: Swearing 

Word count: 1.3k

*** 

I glanced down at my phone checking the time for what felt like a million times throughout this flight. I wanted so badly to land, I was so tired. The flight left at 6am, I woke up early to make sure I wouldn’t miss it, plus I could barely sleep, I was too excited to sleep. I heard over the speaker that we were about to land, I put my phone on airplane mode and relaxed grabbing a piece of gum to help with my motion sickness. I shut my eyes waiting for the plane to finally settle down onto the ground. Once I knew we were securely on the ground I opened my eyes looking around me. Another announcement went off that we were now able to get off the plane. I stood up grabbing my carry on backpack that I brought with me and putting the backpack on making my way over to get off the plane. I thanked the people that worked with the airline and got off the plane going towards bagged claim walking quickly. I grabbed my purple luggage, double checking making sure it was actually mine. I’ve always been scared of taking the wrong luggage with me. I walked around going onto my phone and looking up occasionally so I didn’t crash into anyone. I went into Tom’s assistant’s phone contact (also his best friend). I pressed the phone button and pressed my phone to my ear walking towards the exit doors I told him I would be at. He agreed to pick me up at the airport and keep this whole trip a surprise from Tom. Since my flight was so early in the morning Tom wouldn’t even notice the lack of me texting him and Harrison had told Tom that he had an appointment today at the time he was picking me up. Tom was very oblivious to the fact I had planned all this along with the help of my best friend.

“Ello?” I heard through my phone speaker.

I was now standing outside looking around to see if I was able to see the car Harrison drives but there was so many people and so many cars I wasn’t able to see it.

“Hey Harrison, I’m outside of the airport,” I told him.

“Oh shit..” I could feel my heart just drop, I knew that ‘oh shit’ wasn’t a good thing.

“Harrison..” I said disappointment evident in my voice, “You know what, it’s fine. I’ll take a taxi, send me the address,” I looked down at my suitcase not wanting to get mad at him.

“I’m just kidding, I’m driving around the parking lot right now, it’s pretty busy. Is the entrance busy too?” He asked.

I nodded my head and then rolled my eyes at how stupid that was since he couldn’t see me, “I got so scared! I can’t stand you sometimes,” I let out a groan, rolling my eyes, “Yeah.. It’s busy,” I  responded to his question.

“I’ll come to you, see you in a few minutes,” He hung up the phone before I even had a chance to respond to him. I put my phone away, attempting to sit on my suitcase as I waited, watching as people went into taxis, or walking out to the parking lot on the phone with friends or family.

“Y/N!” I heard someone yell. I turned my head to where I heard the voice. I saw Harrison walking towards me his hands up in the air waving them around.

I bit my lip trying hard not to laugh at how crazy he looked, I made my way over towards him dragging my suitcase behind me. Once I got closes enough I gave him a hug, “Hi Harrison.”

He hugged my back rubbing his hand up and down on my back, “Hey. Tom really has been missing you and has been begging to get time off work. He’s so gutted that he’s not able to go to you. I can’t wait to see his reaction.” When I pulled away from the hug I looked at his facial expression to see if he was being serious, which he was. He had this huge smile on his face and nodded towards where he had parked indicating that we should go to his car. I nodded my head following close behind him, he had grabbed my suitcase for me so I didn’t have to worry about pulling it around.

**

The car ride was pretty quick, we talked most of the time mainly about how our jobs have been going and about our families since I was close with Harrison’s family too we did huge family gatherings during the holidays most of the time. We were now standing outside of Tom’s trailer that he had at the movie set he was working on. Harrison texted Tom to see if he was in the trailer or on set. Tom quickly responded saying he was bored out of his mind inside of his trailer practicing lines. I knocked on the door a few times waiting for him to respond.

“Come in!” He yelled out.

I looked over at Harrison, he nodded his head motioning for me to open the door. He had his phone out recording since he really wanted to get the reaction on camera for us to look back on in the future. He even claimed that he would play this video at our wedding, which made me roll my eyes (I still blushed a bit at the thought of Tom and I getting married). I opened the door looking around at the surrondings while I had the chance, but I didn’t have much time. I heard Tom let out a loud gasp as he turned around to look at who was at his door. He stood up running the short distance towards me.

“Are you.. Oh- No way,” He had tears in his eyes, his hands on my shoulder moving down my arm and then he moved his hands to be one my face. He moved closer towards me, wrapping his arms around me, I loosely wrapped mine around his neck and leaned in kissing him in a short but sweet kiss, “How-? What- What about work?” Tom said in complete shock.

“Hi to you too,” I said giggling, going closer towards him resting my head on his chest while he hugged me pulling my closer to him, “I booked time off to come and see you. I missed you a lot. Harrison and a few of my friends helped me plan all this,” I explained to him.

“Hi I’m sorry. I’m so shocked right now, I’ve missed you so much,” He replied passing his hand through my hair.

“I’ll give you guys some space,” Harrison said and I heard what sounded like the trailer door closing.

I pulled away from the hug, going up on the tips of my toes to kiss Tom one more time, a much more passionate and deep kiss, he kissed my back right away. Once we pulled away he had the biggest smile on his face.

“This is the best surprise ever,” He replied his eyes still watering.

I couldn’t believe I was here with him right now and that I flew all the way out here and I was so glad I did to be able to see the look on his face right now.

“Come on, let’s cuddle,” Tom said leading me towards the sofa that’s in his trailer, he had his laptop resting on the coffee table with a movie playing on it. He laid down on the couch putting his arms out in the air, I made my way towards him laying on top of him, making myself comfortable. He wrapped his arms around me after clicking play on the movie that was on his laptop. He kissed the top of my head a few times, “Thank you for flying out to see me.”

“No problem. I love you,” I told him in a soft whisper feeling the exhaustion from the flight and the stress all hitting me right away.

“I love you too sweetheart.”

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Breaking The Curse: Part 1

Pairings: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff

Word Count: 1,640

A/N: For the sake of this story, the reader is the actress that played in all of Jennifer Lawrence’s movies. So basically she’s the southern Jennifer Lawrence. And I changed timelines around to fit the story because I can. First time writing Tom Hiddleston so be nice, please. 

Aesthetic by @sorenmarie87

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I seriously hate these dang heels.” You grumbled as you fiddled with the black strappy things your stylist had insisted you wear. You glanced up at your assistant and life long best friend who you basically considered your sister, Chelsea and sighed. “Why’d she have ta pick these ones?”

“Because they make your legs look good.” She responded without looking up from her phone. “Please stop fidgeting, (Y/N).” You growled and sat back against the chair.

“So I shouldn’t leave the damn things in the car?” Chelsea looked up at you with a smirk.

“Why do you have to make my life more difficult?”

“Because that’s my job. You keep me in line an’ I make it as hard as possible.” She exited out of the app she was in and stowed her phone beside yours in her bag.

“Well let’s get this over with. Behave, you hear me?” You mock saluted her as your town car pulled up at the end of the red carpet.

“So I shouldn’t strip naked on the red carpet at the Golden Globes in protest of the damned shoes?” Before she could answer you, your door was opened for you and the small car was filled with shouts of fans that lined the start of the walk. You plastered a smile on your face as the train of your light blue Versace dress landed on the ground behind you. 

You took half a second to steady yourself on the heels that you despised more than life itself before making your way down the line with the rest of the celebrities and ‘cattle wranglers’ as you liked to call them. Photos were taken, interviews were given, and you couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous every time someone told you that you good luck on being nominated for best actress in a drama for your role in ‘Joy’. But you didn’t let it show on your face once. 

“Ms. (Y/L/N), right this way.” A young usher said as you walked inside the building. You smiled at him and took his offered arm so he could lead you to your table. It was the same song and dance each time you went to an award show but this time, it was different.

“Well ‘ide the whiskey, trouble’s ‘ere!” You scoffed and looked over at your close friend and past co-star from when you played Mystique years ago, James McAvoy with a sarcastic eye roll.

“You’re still salty that the southern girl can drink a Scot under the table.” You teased as you went over and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Y’all ready for tonight?” He shrugged as he pulled out your chair for you as your assistant dropped off your phone for you before finding her own spot in the back of the room where she much preferred to be.

“Well we all know ye’ve got yer award in the bag.” You playfully hit his arm as he sat down on your left beside you with a shrug. “But I’m up against this tosser.” You turned to your right to where James was pointing as handsome man sat down beside you with a smile on his face.

“No hard feelings when I win, right James?” Tom Hiddleston asked with a laugh.

“Oh, those are fightin’ words here.” You giggled as you turned toward him and offered your hand to him. “(Y/N).”

“Tom. It’s a pleasure.” He said as he politely kissed your hand.

“Way to try to get in ‘er knickers, Hiddleston.” James teased as he signaled to the waiter to order a round of drinks.

“Oh, sweetheart. Bless your heart.” You chided as you put your hand on your friend’s arm with a playfully evil smile. “Look at you insinuating that I actually wear panties.”

“So, that’s the kind of night it’s going to be then.” Tom said with a laugh as he grabbed his glass of water off the table. “Well cheers to the brilliant minds that though putting the three of us together was a good idea, then.”

“Hell, I’ll drink to that.” You said as you grabbed your water and tapped the glass against his. You met his blue eyes as you both took a sip and you slowly lowered your glass when they appeared to slightly change shades as he moved. “Wow. Your eyes are amazin’.” He huffed a laugh as a slight blush rose to his cheeks.

“It’s funny, I was just thinking the same about yours.” With a smile, you looked away and set your water down as the waiter brought over your Jack Daniels and Coke.

“Well thank you, darlin’.” You looked back over at him and held up your drink. “Toooo… pretty eyes and winnin’ awards.” He bowed his head the slightest bit in agreement as he took his own Jameson from the waiter.

“To fun.”

——

“God why did I go ta that aft’a party?” You groaned as you pulled your ball cap down further over your sunglasses in the bright airport lounge the morning after the Globes.

“Because you were celebrating.” Chelsea said simply as she continued to organize your life with you while updating her own social media and personal life like a one woman show. “You said it would be worth it.”

“Chelsea, I love you… but I need ya ta shut the hell up right now.” Your best friend chuckled as your phone buzzed in your hand. You huffed as you glanced at the screen at a text message from an unfamiliar, London area code phone number. Curiosity got the better of you and you unlocked your phone and pulled up your messages.

Hello (Y/N), this is Tom… Hiddleston... from last night. I hope you don’t mind but I acquired your phone number from James after you left. I meant to ask you but we parted ways before I was able too.

You couldn’t help but smirk at the formality of the statement as you tapped the response bar.

Mornin’ sunshine. Forgive me for not believing you off hand but I actually recently had someone leak my phone number and had to change it twice. Got any proof for me?

You adjusted the brightness of your screen and shifted slightly in your seat as the three little dots appeared on the screen. They scrolled through a couple times before disappearing, reappearing again and were replaced by a response.

I apologize that this will be blunt… but you said James insinuated that you had no knickers on. That was the first conversation we exchanged.

Your face flushed red behind your shades and you quickly hit respond.

OK! I believe you! LOL Can we just let the record show that I did have panties on… and can we never, ever have this conversation again so I don’t have to continually die of embarrassment?

You didn’t have to wait long at all for the three dots to appear again.

Consider it noted and forgotten. Congratulations on your win last night, you deserved it.

You smiled to yourself as your flight to North Carolina was called to start boarding. You knew that gave you about twenty minutes before the final call was made when you would board.

Same to you. I have to admit that I haven’t had a chance to finish the series yet but I loved what I’ve seen so far.

“What’s got you all smily?” You looked over at Chelsea, who was smiling at you over her phone as your phone buzzed in your hand again. 

“Not a damn thang, thank you Miss nosey butt.” Your assistant laughed as you looked back down at your screen with an even bigger smile.

All is forgiven, darling. I must also admit that I myself didn’t see your film until late last night, myself. You were spectacular! Did you enjoy filming in Paris? It’s one of my personal favorites.

Thank you. I actually loved Paris! I wished I could have stayed longer but it just wasn’t in the cards. I’ll go back one day hopefully.

Well, if you ever want or need a Paris tour guide, please feel free to let me know. I’d be honored to show you the city. There’s this restaurant I go to every time I’m in town that has the most stunning view over looking the city. It’s simply magical.

“Hey, pack it up, it’s time to go.” You scowled up at Chelsea between the bill of your hat and the top of your sunglasses as you hit the respond bar.

“Rude.” You said as you looked back down at your phone and slowly stood up.

Sounds like a date. But hey, I’m fixin’ to jump on a plane to head to my home town for a couple days. Can I give you a call later tonight? Maybe work out the details of this date?

You didn’t realize you were actually partially holding your breath for his response as you gathered your bags to catch the final boarding for your flight. You weren’t able to actually check your phone again until you had yourself tucked into your first class window seat. You took a deep breath and looked at your phone as the flight attendant made the announcement that the doors were closing.

Sounds wonderful. Enjoy your flight, darling. I look forward to your call.

Your smile grew impossibly larger as you sent a fast ‘Thanks’ back to him and turned your phone on airplane mode for the flight. You looked over at Chelsea, who was staring at you expectantly with a smile of her own.

“Alright, I’ll tell ya.” You said as you turned on your seat in your seatbelt toward her. She mimicked your move and crossed her legs as you put your sunglasses on top of your head and told her everything.

Part 2