#yes that’s why they call it hotlanta
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
#all new x men#iceman#Bobby drake#Pi time is best time#yes that’s why they call it hotlanta#The south#(eastern side of the United States)
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Back Home (BAU Team + Blair Redford)
The case that the team was working on was in Atlanta, Georgia, Y/N's hometown. Y/N's ex still works in Atlanta PD and cannot keep his eyes off her. Rossi believes that Y/N has some unfinished business with her ex and encourages her to stay after the cass.
Characters: David Rossi, Blake, Jennifer Jareu, Aaron Hotchner, Blair Redford
--
"Well, well, well, isn't Miss Hotlanta," Morgan teases as I hop on the jet. "Here we go," I say, sitting across from him. "How do you feel about heading back home?" Morgan asks. "Well, I wish it was under better circumstances. But I never get tired of heading home."
"Your entire family are cops, right?" Reid asks. "Yes," "Yeesh, I could only image what what going through your date's head when he found that out." Rossi says.
"Oh my dad made sure of that I didn't have one," I say, making everyone chuckle. "I would be the same way if I had a daughter," Hotch states. "So.. how did you do it?" JJ asks. "Do what?" "Sneeks boys in,"
"A magician never reveals her secrets," I say, crossing my legs with a small smirk perched on my face. "Y/N, you sly dog." Morgan teases. "Oh? Would you like to reveal your tactics, Chocolate Thunder?" I taunt.
"Hey, only I call him that!" Garcia says over the computer. "Simmer down, baby girl. I'm yours and only yours." Morgan flirts. "You better be," she snaps with a smile. "Alright, let's get started." Hotch starts
After the jet lands, the team drives to Atlanta PD. Y/N and the team walk into the Atlanta PD when balloons started popping and horns blew all at once. "Well Back, Y/L/N!" They welcome and Y/N could help the big smile plastered on her face.
Y/N started out as a rookie cop for a decade before applying for the BAU team. Everyone she used to work with swarmed her with hugs and kisses.
Blair, Y/N's ex, introduced himself to the rest of the team while Y/N was occupied. He showed them a room to set up and watched as Y/N smiles widely. She slide herself out of the swarm of people with some garlands wrapped around her neck, a shiny black hat and red lipstick marks on her cheek.
"Blair," Y/N greets as she approaches him. Blair wastes no time lifting Y/N into his arms. "Hey, baby," he belows, his voice vibrating both her chest and his. They hold each other for a moment or two and they both closed their eyes in relief.
"It's been too long," he says as he pulls away from me hesitantly. "Tell me about it,". Y/N tucks her hands in her back pockets and Blair adds, "You look great." "Likewise. You've definitely been hitting the gym." Blair was at a severe battle of wills.
Y/N and Blair ended on a good note but there was so much potential left untouched. Blair was pining after her since high school and nothing has changed. "The team needs me. We'll keep you posted." Y/N says touching his arm once again before leaving.
"There some cupcakes and ice cream in the break room for ya. Courtesy of Jill," "Gotta love Jill, am I right?" "Thank you," Y/N adds before walking into the conference. "Looks like someone was missed," Morgan says, referencing her gettup.
"You talking about her co workers or her ex that is obviously still in love with her?" Rossi asks. "Mmm, both." "Let's just focus on the case, please." Y/N says, sitting down and keeping the garland and hat on her body. Two days later, they catch the unsub and Rossi calls Y/N back for a moment.
"What's up?" "I think you should stay here for a day or two?" "Wh-- are you sure? What if we're called in for a case?" "We'll handle it," "Is Hotch okay with this?" "Yes, you clearly have some unfinished business. Don't let us hold you back."
"But--" "No buts," Rossi interrupts. Everyone packs up their things and Hotch says, "See you in two days." "Call me if you need anything," Y/N calls after them and Rossi says, "We won't!" Y/N huffs as she places her hands on her hips.
She takes a cab to the hotel and checks out before taking her things to her house. Her family greets her with hugs and kisses and of course they bring up Blair. "So have you seen Blair? He looks pretty good, huh."
"Yes, he does." "He's the reason why you stayed, isn't it?" "No, my coworker insisted that I stayed because he claimed that I have unfinished business." "I like this co worker of yours," Mom says.
"I think you should visit Blair," Y/N's sister suggests. "Of course you do," Y/N says, rolling her eyes. "He's always asking asking about you." "Why?"
"Come on, Miss Profile. He's loved you since he knew what love was. Just stop by, that's all I'm asking." Y/N's sister states. "Ugh, fine." Y/N stood up from the couch and walks up the stairs to take her shower. Her sister harassed Y/N as she got ready, I guess that was her special way of saying I missed you.
"You look amazing," Mom says. "Thanks, you don't have to lie tho." "Oh stop," Mom says, nudging Y/N's arm. They embrace one another in a long hug before Y/N leaves to go to Blair's.
Y/N's POV
I walk up the steps and raise my hand to knock on the door and it flings open. Blair rushes out of his house and stumbles right into me. My heels get caught on the first step and I could feel my entire body launching backwards. Blair catches me and pulls me into his chest.
"Y/N, what are you doing here?" "I just wanted go come by and say hi. Where are you going in a rush?" "Uh, the gym. The boys are waiting for me." "Oh, right. I'm sorry, I should- I should've called first." "No, no, I can cancel. It's not every day that I have the Y/N Y/L/N at my door." I couldn't help the blood rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment.
"Are you blushing?" he taunts, taking full advantage over how physically close we were. "No," I bite my bottom in nervousness. "Tsk, tsk, you were a bad liar then and a bad liar now." He tucks a few hairs behind my ear and traced his index finger along my jawline. He pulled my lip from underneath my teeth with his thumb.
"What are you doing?" "What I've wanted to do for years," he says against my lips. "Take me inside first?" Seconds later, he lifts me up and wraps my legs around his waist. He carries me inside and kicks the door closed.
My back is pressed against the door as he attacks my neck with kisses. He sucks on the nape of my neck and pulls away to take off my dress and bra in one swift motion.
I cross my ankles behind his waist to make sure I don't fall. He cups my breasts into his hands and rub the sensitive buds with the pads of his thumbs. I rest the back of my head against the door as my mouth falls open.
My back archs as he takes one nipple into his mouth while rubbing the other with his thumb. I pull his head away from my chest and press a series of kisses on his lips.
Our lips move in perfect sync and my body became warmer with every kiss. He carries me into his room and he gently sets me on the bed. He nudges me on my back and settles himself between her legs.
I could feel his bulge pulsating against my thigh and when I reach down to touch him, he holds my hand. "My focus is on you right now, baby." "But--" "No buts," he presses painfully slow kisses down neck.
He moves down to my chest and slides his hands into my underwear. He moans as he feels my dripping folds. "Fuck, Y/N," he sinks two fingers into me and my hips lifts from the bed. He fingers matches the pace of his kisses down my body, painfully slow. "Oh come on, baby, please move faster," I beg as I buck my hips against his fingers.
"Don't tempt me. You know what happens when I lose control," "Yeah, it was the best sex I've ever had," "You also had bruises all ov--" I wrap my hand around his throat and lean in go press a hot kiss on his lips. "Fuck me like you hate me or I'm leaving," I whisper against his lips.
His eyes pierce into mine and my heart races with excitment. "Go get the rope," he commands.
**
The elevator dings as I reach the first level of the BAU. I walk with an uncontrollable pep as I sip on my coffee that I put in my thermos. I had to wear a long sleeve turtleneck for obvious reasons.
Blair's favorite chain that he gave me, perches on my chest. I walk up the steps to the conference room and all of the conversations came to a halt.
"Don't stop on my account," I say as I sit down between JJ and Blake. "You look vibrant," JJ starts. "Interest choice of words," I say. "Oh look at that, she's glowing," Garcia says.
"Oh my God, guys, please," "You should to Atlanta more often," Morgan taunts. "So help me, Morgan." "I knew it was a great call to convice you to stay." "You know you're never going to live this down, right?" Morgan states.
"Right," I repeat. "Let's get started," Hotch says as walks into the room. "Y/N, glad you could make it." Hotch says with a small smile tugging at his lips. "No, not you too." "Now I know exactly where to send you to.. unwind," he adds. "For the love of God,"
22 notes
·
View notes
Text
Hotlanta
Chapter 10
Summary: A fun night in Atlanta forces the reader into a fake relationship with celebrity Tom Holland in order to save both of their careers.
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, entirely made up by me for me. I don’t necessarily condone the behavior in this fic, nor do I actually know Tom, Harrison, or the other real-life people who feature in it. Because of this, they might not always act like themselves based on what we know about them.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9
Word count: 5013
Author’s Note: I don’t even remember when I uploaded chapter 9--it’s been that long--and I’m sorry to leave y’all hanging like that! But finally, finally here is the last chapter of Hotlanta! I’ve had fun with this story, and a big part of the delay was that I just wasn’t happy with the first few drafts of this chapter. So, I scrapped it all and rewrote it, and this version is so much better. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do!
Y/N–Your Name
Reader’s POV
“Why aren’t you at work?” a familiar voice said somewhere near your head. You were sprawled on your bed, half asleep. You weren’t sure what time it was. What day it was. You squinted around, eyes landing on a figure backlit by the sunlight coming through your open curtains.
“What are you doing here?” you asked your best friend. She was, honestly, the person you’d least expected to see. You covered your head with a pillow. The bed shifted as she sat on the edge.
“Your mom said you were depressed. Sleeping all day, not going to work, not seeing Tom. Nothing. So I came to check on you.”
“I thought you were mad at me,” you said dully.
“I am. But that doesn’t mean I can’t check on you when you’re not answering my texts. Are you depressed?”
“Yes. Satisfied? Now go away.”
She sighed. “What happened?”
“Does it matter?”
“What happened?”
“I got fired and I broke up with Tom.” You realized with a start that you could tell her the truth, that this would be the opportunity. A now-familiar ache spread in your chest. You wondered if Tom had texted or called you at all, but you’d let your phone die two days ago and hadn’t touched it since. It’d been almost a week since your “breakup.”
“You--wait--why didn’t you tell me any of this?” she demanded.
“Because...I don’t know, it’s complicated.”
So you told her. You told her all of it, from the mistake you made in the club, to almost getting fired over the photos, to fake dating Tom and falling in love with him. You told her about the accident on set, about the party, about the morning after. Embarrassingly, when you got to the part about breaking up with him, the tears you’d been holding back finally started to fall.
She was quiet for a long minute after you finished the story.
“So it wasn’t real?” She frowned. “But you’re in love with him?”
“That about sums it up, yeah.”
“So tell him.”
Mortification warmed your face. “No. I can’t do that. I don’t want to be rejected, not after all of this.”
“But what if you weren’t rejected?” she raised an eyebrow.
“In what universe?” You rolled your eyes. “No. I just--I can’t.”
She sighed, but let it drop. She flopped onto her back on the bed and launched into a story about having to transfer to a local school for her senior year because of money troubles. As you talked, guilt ate at your insides. You’d really been a terrible friend these past couple of months. But you would do better now, no matter what.
It took a couple more days for the paparazzi and tabloids to get wind of your “breakup.” Tom’s publicist released a short statement that really only said that things didn’t work out between you. It hurt to see the words, but you made yourself view it as a fresh start. So you took a deep breath, and scheduled lunch with your best friend.
Tom’s POV
Tom was in agony. He kept reminding himself that the breakup wasn’t real, but it felt real. It felt real because she didn’t want him. Because she couldn’t pretend to like him anymore. And it hurt because he thought that, somewhere along the line, it had been his fault. He knew it was his fault she’d lost her internship. After all, the times she had been late had been because of him. Fans showed up at her building because of him. And, worst of all, her career had been on the line because of him.
Tom kept going through the motions of going to work and eating and living, but he didn’t feel like he was truly there. Everything hurt, not just his heart. Over and over again he thought about the things he should have said to her, the things he should have done differently. But it was too late. He had two weeks left on Spider-Man, then he was flying home to London. And she was off to school again.
“You’re an idiot, mate,” Harrison said after Tom had been moping for over two weeks. Tom had already had a lengthy conversation with his best friend about everything that had happened. Harrison had been mostly supportive, but the words “you’re an idiot” struck home this time.
“I know,” Tom said dejectedly. “It’s my fault she was fired. And did you know her parents won’t let her live with them after she graduates in the spring? I just--I have to do something, mate. I have to fix this. Whether or not she loves me, I have to help her.”
“Mate, you’re an idiot.” Harrison repeated. “And not because she broke up with you.” He glanced at his phone. “Listen, I have to make a call.”
“What does that mean? What are you on about?” Tom demanded, but Harrison was already disappearing.
Tom was an idiot, he knew that. But he didn’t know how to fix it, or if it could be fixed. But there was, at least, one thing he could do. So Tom made a call, too.
What he didn’t know was that Harrison was already working on fixing everything.
Reader’s POV
Harrison was calling you.
He’d texted you a couple of times since the fake breakup--or real breakup, you really weren’t sure what to call it--and so had Tom. You’d mostly ignored them, preferring a clean break. But what if something was wrong? A flash of Tom on his back on the stunt mat, not breathing, flashed in your head. You sighed and answered.
“Is everything okay?” you asked by way of greeting.
“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Are you okay?” You narrowed your eyes at the sound of his voice. Something was off.
“I’m okay. Did you need something?”
“I just...have some of your stuff here at Tom’s trailer. Thought you might want it.” He paused. “He’s not here right now, in case you were wondering.”
An odd mixture of relief and disappointment washed over you. “You know we didn’t actually break up, right?” you teased.
“Y/N,” Harrison said seriously. “I’m not stupid. I know how you feel about Tom.”
Your heart stopped. “What do you mean, how I feel about him? I mean, he’s my friend, but that’s it.”
Harrison huffed a laugh. “You don’t have to lie to me. It’s obvious. But I have something I need to do and might not be able to meet you there right off. Tom’’ll be busy on set all day, I promise. You won’t even have to see him.”
You bit back a reply. There was no point arguing, not when he was right. “Yeah, okay, I’m on my way.”
Thirty minutes later, you were at the Spider-Man set. You were greeted with familiar faces here and there, but everyone mostly seemed too busy to stop and chat. You were grateful for that--you didn’t want to have to answer any questions about Tom, about why you were there, or have anyone tell him you were there. You knew the set well enough by now that you could head right to Tom’s trailer without any trouble.
You knocked on the trailer door. When there was no answer, you stepped inside. It hurt a bit to see what had been a safe, familiar space for you.
A quick in and out, that’s all this was. Maybe a quick hello to Harrison, a casual question about how Tom was, and that was it. Maybe you could even get out of there quickly enough to meet your best friend for lunch. Things had been much better with you two over the past week as you began to mend the gap between you.
After locating the small box on the table labeled with your name, you texted Harrison that you were there, if he wanted to stop by and say hello.
Five minutes, he responded.
You sighed and sat on the couch. You remembered falling asleep on it several times when Tom was shooting late. You thought about the night you’d had to help him out of the Spider-Man suit. A flush spread across your cheeks at the memory.
If you were being honest with yourself, you hated this. Ripping the bandaid off and ending things had seemed like the better choice at the time you’d done it. But now, you realized, you would have been happier just being around Tom, whether or not your relationship was real. You missed him.
The trailer door creaked open.
“--real quick, then Jon wants me back, alright, mate?” a familiar voice said. Your heart stuttered.
Tom.
“I’ll tell Jon what you’re doing,” came Harrison’s voice.
Tom grunted and stumbled as if he’d been shoved. The trailer’s door slammed behind him.
“Hey!” he protested. He pushed roughly at the door. It opened an inch and thumped shut again, as if someone were leaning against it to keep it closed.
You remained frozen on the couch. A lump of pain formed in your throat at the sight of Tom. He was dressed as Peter Parker, his hair carefully styled and tousled.
“You two have some talking to do!” Harrison said through the door. “And you aren’t coming out until you talk!”
“What--” Tom started, then whirled. He stared at you for a long moment.
“Uh, hi,” you said. An unimaginably large gap seemed to yawn between the two of you. Only two weeks had gone by, yet it was as if you didn’t know him anymore. The pain in your chest was amplified by a thousand at the sight of him before you.
“Y/N,” he breathed. “What--what’re you--what’re you doing here?”
“Harrison said he had some stuff of mine.” You gestured to the box on the table. “Then he said he wanted to say hi. He, ah, apparently lied.” You shrugged.
Tom rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Right, yeah….”
You stood and went to grab the box. “I should...go. I’m meeting a friend for lunch.” It wasn’t technically a lie. You had planned on asking your best friend to lunch.
Breezing past Tom without looking at him, you pushed against the door. It thumped closed.
“I don’t hear any talking!” Harrison called.
You sighed, and set the box down. Tom was quiet, so you turned to face him. He wasn’t looking at you, but at the floor.
“Y/N,” he said without looking up. A little frown tugged at the corners of his lips. “Are we--aren’t we still friends?”
“Of course,” you said automatically. Your heart gave a painful squeeze.
“Then why have you been ignoring my texts and calls?” His voice was quiet.
“I--Because I--I just--” you stammered. You didn’t have a ready excuse. How could you tell him that it hurt too much to even think about him, let alone talk to him? How could you explain that it was killing you to be in the same room as him, knowing that you were in love with him and he didn’t feel the same way? “I’ve been busy,” you finished lamely.
Tom nodded, but his gaze was distant.
A long silence stretched between you. Why was this so hard?
“Tell me something I don’t know,” you said. The words earned a small smile from Tom.
“I bought the house,” he said at last.
“Oh? You’re--you’ll be staying in Atlanta then?”
“No. Well, maybe, I don’t know.” Tom took a deep breath. His eyes finally met your own. “I bought it for you.”
All the breath left your lungs at once. “You--what?”
Tom took a step towards you. “I bought it for you. No strings attached. When you graduate, it’s yours. Furniture included.”
You had to blink several times. “Tom, you shouldn’t--I can’t accept that kind of gift.”
“Please,” he said. “It’s yours. I want it to be yours.”
Your mouth opened and closed and opened again.
“Say yes,” Tom said.
“I’ll...think about it. This is...wow. Why would you give me something so big?” You couldn’t make sense of it. Maybe he was doing it because he felt bad making you pretend to date him? It was the only explanation that made sense. “Is it...because you feel bad? That we had to pretend to date?” The words came out unbidden. You wished you could take them back. But you wanted to know.
Would it hurt more or less if the answer was yes?
Tom stared at you, stunned. “Did I buy it for you because I felt bad?” he repeated. He ran his hands through his hair as he turned away from you. “God, Y/N, no. I mean, I feel bad that I put your career in jeopardy, that I got you fired, but...I’m glad I met you.” He whirled back around, hair mussed, eyes on fire.
The ache in your heart intensified. This time, you turned away. You tried to swallow past the lump in your throat. From behind you, Tom sighed and sank onto the couch.
“Sorry, I just--don’t know what to say.” You closed your eyes. Maybe you should tell him. That was what Harrison wanted, wasn’t it? For you to be locked in here until you told Tom how you felt? You leaned against the wall and let it half hold you up.
Another silence spread throughout the room.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Tom said.
Just do it, you thought. Just tell him.
You took a breath. You could do this. Couldn’t you? Just say the words, you told yourself. Just tell him you fell in love with him.
But what came out was, instead, “I missed you, movie star.”
Tom smirked up at you from the couch. “Oh, I knew that,” he teased. “I’m hard to get rid of.”
“Like a parasite,” you shot back automatically. You and Tom both grinned. The silence this time wasn’t as strained. It was a more familiar shape. You tried not to think about how badly you’d chickened out as you watched Tom pick at his fingernails.
Tom’s smile faded as he looked up at you from underneath his lashes. “Listen, Y/N,” he said softly. “I know that it’s at least a bit my fault that you lost your internship. So I...called your boss. I told her what happened. That it was faked. That it was my fault.”
Automatically, anger started to rise. “Tom, you shouldn’t have told her that, it’s personal, it’s--”
He continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “She promised you a glowing recommendation. Said she didn’t know that your dedication to your career went so far as faking a relationship in order to garner good press. Or something like that.”
The wall was the only thing holding you up now. “Wh--why--” You were struck dumb. It didn’t matter that Harrison had somehow gotten you both into the room together. Tom was offering you a house and a recommendation from your boss.
“She’ll be contacting you, if she hasn’t already, to give you the official recommendation,” Tom continued. He was back to not looking at you. He swallowed twice. “So...we talked. Harrison should be happy. I won’t keep you here any longer. And this--you should take this.”
He held out a crumpled piece of paper. You managed to take a few weak-kneed steps towards him to take it. “What’s this?” you asked, your fingers brushing, but he remained silent.
It was the contract. The one that started it all, written in Harrison’s handwriting. Had Tom kept it, all this time? It looked well-worn. Like it had passed through his fingers many times.
Added at the end, in Tom’s writing, crossed out, were the words Tell the truth.
“Before you go,” Tom said, elbows on his knees. He stood and sat again abruptly. “I need to tell you...something.”
“Something more than the house and the recommendation?” you asked tonelessly. Were you in shock? You had to be in shock. In one fell swoop, Tom had given you a good life. A career, a home…hope.
You managed to look up from those little words that were sinking like stones into your gut. Tell the truth. You could do this...couldn’t you? You could tell him how you felt. It was only fair, considering the huge bombshells he’d just dropped in your lap.
“Tell me what?” you asked when Tom still hadn’t said anything.
Tom slipped to his knees in front of you. You stumbled a step backwards in surprise. “Y/N,” he said. His brown eyes were blown wide. Your resolve to tell him you were in love with him was crumbling away. He gripped your calves with his hands. He cleared his throat. You were painfully aware of his touch. Of the way his eyelashes looked against his cheekbones. Of his every breath.
“Y/N,” he tried again. “Stay with me. Please. I’ll quit acting. I’ll follow you anywhere. Just please, stay with me.”
Only three words sank in at first. I’ll quit acting. “No!” you protested, hands fumbling for his shoulders. I’ll quit acting. He couldn’t do that. He couldn’t give up his dreams, his life. You shook him a little as his face fell. He turned his head away and blinked rapidly.
“I--” His voice broke. “I’m sorry. I thought maybe--” He still wasn’t looking up at you. His grip briefly tightened on the backs of your knees. “I thought that--”
You took his face in your hands. The face that had become more familiar than your own. “Tom, no. Don’t--why would you quit your job?” You couldn’t understand it.
He finally looked up at you. The look in his eyes wrecked you. “Don’t you get it?” he asked sadly. “I’m in love with you. This whole time, I’ve been in love with you, like an idiot.”
You were glad he was holding your legs, because your knees suddenly lost all of their strength. Your world broke apart and was remade there at your feet. I’ve been in love with you, like an idiot. “You--what?”
He started to let go of you, to move away, but you gripped his shoulders. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have--”
“Say it again, movie star,” you breathed. Tom closed his eyes and swallowed.
“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”
“You idiot,” you told him a bit breathlessly. He opened his eyes. “I’ve been in love with you this whole time.”
The lines between his brows cleared. “I—you--what?”
You slid to your knees in front of him. “I said you’re an idiot,” you repeated with a grin.
“Not that, the other thing.”
You were sure he was toying with you now. You could see the hint of a smirk on his lips. But it didn’t hide the wonder in his eyes. So you leaned in close, close enough for your breath to brush his lips as you murmured, “I said that I’m in love with you, movie star.”
Tom kissed you. Or maybe you kissed him. You couldn’t be sure. But one second you were smiling and the next your lips were against his and gravity shifted. This--this was a real kiss. This was everything you’d dreamed of. This kiss, kneeling on the floor of his trailer, was more than any other kiss you’d shared with him up until now.
A whole summer of memories came crashing down around you. Kissing him in that club. Waking up next to him in that bed in LA. Catching him vulnerable and anxious in the rain. Surprising him for his birthday, the tenderness in his eyes. The Spider-Man kiss. Him not breathing. Being on your knees in front of him with alcohol and lust and love burning in your veins. Sitting on his living room floor, surrounded by food and the heaviness of the knowledge that you had missed him while he’d been in New York.
He was holding you tightly by the hips, as if you might slip through his fingers if his grip loosened.
He pulled away and let his forehead rest on yours for just a moment.
“When?” you asked.
“When what?”
“When did you fall in love with me?” you said, suddenly shy. Tom’s laugh was gentle. He maneuvered so you could both sit on the couch, still clinging to each other.
“I knew from the moment I saw you at that bar that you’d be special. You looked at me, really looked at me, when everyone else was pretending not to see me, pretending not to see how famous I was.” He kissed your forehead, then along your jaw. Your concentration scattered until he pulled away again. “I knew I was in love with you when you surprised me with my parents and Paddy. You gave me the only thing in the world I really wanted for my birthday.”
“That soon?” you mused. “I must be more amazing than I thought.” Tom huffed a laugh. He kissed you again, this time behind your ear, and it became hard to breathe. “When I saw you that day on set, when you fell and you weren’t breathing…I couldn’t imagine life without you.”
“I’m yours, darling,” he murmured, eyes dark as they gazed at you.
“You can have me,” you said, both of you remembering that night when you’d had too much to drink and followed him to his room. You remembered seeing the bruises on his ribs. You remembered the feel of the carpet underneath your knees. And you could tell by the look on Tom’s face that he, too, was remembering.
Remembering and wanting.
And you were kissing again. One of his hands found the bare skin of your back beneath your shirt while the other held the back of your neck. You returned the favor and traced the lines of his muscles under his shirt.
It wasn’t close enough. It would never be close enough. Not now. Not when he could be yours. The thought made you dizzy--or maybe it was the feeling of his fingers tracing your ribcage.
You fumbled at the buttons of Peter Parker’s shirt and tugged at the tshirt underneath it to get to Tom.
“Your character has too many shirts,” you complained as Tom helped you. You straddled his lap as he leaned back against the couch. He helped you out of your own shirt. Your bra was next, and his hands on you still weren’t enough. He groaned your name as you shifted your hips.
The trailer door banged open. “Have you confessed your l--what the fuck?! My eyes!”
You and Tom both shouted in surprise and you instinctively crushed your bare chest to his to try and hide your nakedness. Tom was cursing up a storm. You turned your head just in time to see Harrison clap his hands over his eyes and make a beeline for the trailer door, only to run into it.
“Sorry, sorry!” he was saying over and over again as he finally managed to get the door open.
Tom held you in the silence for a long moment.
“Well,” he finally said. He cleared his throat. His fingers traced patterns against your spine. “Where were we?”
You leaned back just enough to look him in the eyes. “Shouldn’t you be getting back to work?” But you placed a kiss on his collarbone, and neither of you were concentrating on the conversation anymore.
That is, until Tom gave a start and cursed under his breath. “I--I don’t have any condoms.” His face flushed red.
“You don’t keep condoms in here?”
Tom laughed. “Why would I keep condoms in my trailer at work?”
You bit your lip to smother your smile. “For times like this?”
“You have a point,” he murmured, and for a minute you were lost in each other again.
“We can always pick this up...later?” you suggested once you were finally able to piece your thoughts back together. “You probably should get back to work.”
Tom sighed and kissed the inside of your shoulder. “Later,” he promised. You thought to yourself that you’d never heard a more beautiful word.
You hurried to get dressed, both of you emerging looking very obviously ruffled.
“That was fast,” Harrison quipped from where he waited around the corner. Tom shoved his friend playfully.
“It’s your own fault,” you said as the three of you fell into step together. “‘Oh, Y/N, I have a box of your stuff and no ulterior motives at all,’” you said in a terrible British accent.
The boys both laughed. “I didn’t have any ulterior motives,” Harrison protested. “At least, none that I thought would lead to what I saw.”
Before more could be said, Tom was ushered off to have his hair and makeup and costume fixed. A blush settled on your cheeks and stayed there, burning hotly. It seemed obvious now what you two had been almost doing.
“Well,” you said. “At least Tom gets to explain why he looks like that, and not me.”
Harrison was grinning at you. “So it all worked out, then?”
“Yeah. Yeah, it all worked out. Somehow.” You turned to look Harrison fully in the face. “How did you know?” you asked. “That it would all work out.”
“Because Tom’s been moaning for weeks that he’s in love with you and wants to tell you. And you...well, it seemed obvious after he had that accident on set.” Harrison shrugged, then nudged you with one shoulder.
You laughed softly. “Yeah, actually, that’s about when it came obvious for me, too.”
Harrison was still grinning. “I think you’re good for him, Y/N.”
Everyone seemed genuinely happy to hear that you and Tom were “back together.” And, if you thought about it, it was as if you and Tom had been dating all along. He had become your trusted confidante and vice versa. The past few months had just been a precursor to the real thing.
You couldn’t wait to be alone with Tom again. To talk, to finally bridge that last gap between you, to finish getting to know him. And, you had to admit, you couldn’t wait to really be alone with him. Every look that passed between you for the rest of the day sparked fire in your veins.
“This seems different,” Zendaya noted as she watched you watch Tom with her keen eyes. “You two seem more...I don’t know.” But she smiled at you as she said it. She mysteriously showed up to set even though she had already wrapped for the film. You suspected Jacob or someone else had texted her.
“I think we had to be apart to figure out how we really felt about each other,” you said. Tom gave you a wink as Jon called “action” once more.
Not too long after that, though, Jon decided to wrap up for the day. As Tom walked past, the director said something that caused Tom to simultaneously blush and smirk. He caught your eye and winked again before disappearing to get changed back into his normal clothes.
Tom was back much more quickly than normal, lacing his fingers through yours, falling easily into step next to you.
Harrison was walking beside you, too. He glanced at the two of you and said, a little loudly, “Jacob and I are going out to dinner. I’ll be gone for the next few hours.” He raised his eyebrows at the two of you, winked, and said, “Bye, Y/N. Bye, Skeletor.” Harrison snickered and waved as he went on his way.
“Skeletor?” you repeated. It sounded familiar, and then it came back to you. “Hey, that night--when we, um, you know...The boys called you Skeletor. Harrison and Jacob. I think I heard them call you that other times, too.”
Tom rolled his eyes. “It’s because when we were all swimming one day I, ah...had a little problem when I was watching you.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Little?”
Tom flushed. “So…” he said instead of replying to your comment. “Are we really doing this? Boyfriend and girlfriend?”
You stopped walking. His hand tugged once in yours before he stopped, too. “Hm, I think we’re doing this,” you said thoughtfully, then pulled him closer for a kiss. This was all you had wanted, all summer, whether you had known it or not. Just Tom, all to yourself.
For the entire ride home, it felt like your bones were made of fire. Every look between the two of you burned. Tom reached over as he was driving and let his hand rest on your thigh. His thumb traced idle circles where it rested, and those were made of fire, too.
“I want you to know,” he said as he pulled into the driveway. “That we don’t--don’t have to live together, or anything. I can get a different place, or, I don’t know, whatever you want.”
You smiled at him. “I think it might be easier if we both just lived here. You know, when you’re in town.” The thought suddenly had you anxious. You’d missed him terribly when he’d been filming in New York, and he hadn’t been yours then. What would you do for those long weeks and months he’d be away?
“We’ll work it out, love,” Tom said softly, as if he’d heard your thoughts. He put the car in park. “I’ll be with you every single moment I can be. I promise that.”
You were kissing again before the front door was completely unlocked. You couldn’t get enough of him. You’d never gotten enough of him, and especially not now. I’ve been in love with you, like an idiot.
Atlanta had brought you together, and kept you together. “To Hotlanta,” you murmured to yourself as Tom lifted you and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You allowed yourself a secret smile before you were distracted again, losing yourself in the darkness of Tom’s gaze.
The two of you left a trail of clothes leading to the bedroom, and were lost in each other.
You would always be lost in each other.
Tag-list
(some tags aren’t working--let me know if you see your username but it didn’t notify you!)
@chasingsuperheroes @spidey-spooked @mendes-holland @thatdivlife @agirlwithpointlessideas @fangirling-all-day-everyday @thefriendlyneighborhoodspidey @augurydemon @mj4president @abunchofsemicoherentwords @narnianlights @beautifullydisconnected @solarspidey @wowspideyholland @punkass-potato @wordsinwinters @peter-hollands @sexy-sea-basss @sherizaraiyah @chinalois @riverdalerebel @soldierstark @staaarduuusttt @sidespidey @johnmurphys-sass @never-surrender-yourself @butterfliesslugswormsandothershi @aelin-firehearts-court @wonderyoung @fandomscombine @spider-mendes @queensholland @jinx4karma @hollands99 @isabellamozzarellla @marveltomjunkie @itsmyfuneralokay @clairesrainbow @penisprkr @let-me-luve-you @traveller-lover-dreamer @rowaelinfeyrhys @classicidiocy @i-love-superhero @lorewin @starkrobb @casualprincess77 @thisisthetragicstoryofme @annahenni @unreasonablyexcited @kosterfield @girl-in-the-chair @ohmwreckr @tomsfireheart @singleandlonely @peterparkyourassonme @ripesummertimes @dottirose @hollywoodgonzalez @matt-murrdock @stevieboyharrington @jamiemac26 @shortiegardengnome @i-regret-this-already @its-livelovelife @phoebeconrey @entersomethingcreativehere @dandockandburdalion @man-of-vibranium @styles-bucks @daringbanshee @pb-bonniegold @chronicles-of-jess @darlin-you-bitch @httpmassiveflirt @marveling-at-it-all @elentiya02 @spideysz @tom-holland-stuff @thedaydreamingwriter @tom-hollands-eyelash @parkerstylesperalta @bloodytbs @spidey-pal @barbricue @exhausted-introvert @craftymoonrunaway @dissupanatrlbish @krazykiara @parkerssweb @dashofholland @shamelessbookaddict @dreamer7black @thomaslefteyebrow @simnons @emilymarie0422 @wolvesofthewinter @iamthemaskhewears @harryshollands @thegirlalmighty01 @hollandechart @gab-spidey @juice-for-holland @xxxxdelenaxxxx @xitzbrookiex @no-shxt-sherl @maraiswho @peter-parkersbb @marveloushawn @unexpectedcertainties @kira-mariee @spideyhoecoming @tomhaz @immajustread @rae-gar-targaryen91 @wonders-of-the-multiverse @vanillanestor @captainpeggy40 @tomhollanders2013 @areyou-stupid-orsomething @kiramdaniel @blissfultom @babebenhardy @acciotonystank @not-jay-c @awkwardfangirl2014
#hotlanta#tom holland#tom holland fanfiction#tom holland imagine#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#tom holland fic#tom hollanf fanfic#haz osterfield
286 notes
·
View notes
Photo
I Have been derelict of my duties and have brought shame upon my community and ancestors. I must not make excuses but amends.
As you might have heard the popular and attractive World/Inferno band took a short road trip over the week end to play a benefit for Planned Parenthood in Chicago. There was grumbling among the ranks of making such a long trip for only two shows but I pushed it through (“Gentlemen, if there is anyone here who can deny that you have personally benefited from planned parenthood . . .”). That said, during the drive from Detroit to Chi-Town (no one says that anymore, no one says ‘Hotlanta’ anymore either. What can I say, I’m from the Eighties. It’s like another country.) when all our cell phones blew up with ‘FLASH FLOOD WARNINGS and we had to pull over on the side of the road while our rental van literally started to fill with water I feared recriminations.
Everybody rolled with it though and instead of threatening to lynch me we started we started to exchange ‘i been through worse than this’ stories. Now I tend to block bad experiences out and therefore never learn from them which is why I still play in a punk rock band well into my dotage however Inferno has been traveling with the famous and well liked Osamu Kawahara with whom I played in the posthumously well liked New Jersey punk band Sticks And Stones and he proceeded to jog my memory.
“Hey Pete,” he said (yes, he still sometimes calls me that in context but you don’t) “remember that time we crashed the Coupe Flowers van into the front of that club because they canceled us?”
“No way!” Francis crowed from the front.
“Oh yeah,” I said “It was in Florida. Gwar had a cancellation and the club jumped on it. We got there and the owner said ‘Gwar is playing’ and we said ‘oh, cool we're going to play with Gwar’ and the owner replied ’No, Gwar is playing. You’re not.’ so we decided to smash down the club’s awning with the back of the van.”
“Wait,” Our drummer Ms. Townsend said from the back of the van “You decided to smash your van into the front of a building because they canceled you?”
“Yeah” Osa and I said simultaneously and chuckled.
“and you thought this was a good idea?” she replied.
“I don’t think good or bad really came into it, just had to be done.” I opined.
“I don’t believe it” Francis cracked again from the front.
“No, No” Osamu confirmed, “we backed the van into the awning at a great velocity.”
“Well what happened next?” the former Ms. Precarious laughed.
“We drove away fast into the Florida night with a busted back window.”
“Didn’t you even get a ticket?”
“No. We had to put a garbage bag over the broken window though.”
“And you didn’t get pulled over?”
“Yeah, we got pulled over a couple days later for the window.” Osa admits.
“So you did get a ticket.”
“No, I think we said someone tried to break into the van and the cops just told us it to get it fixed.”
“Incredible.”
“And then there was the time we broke down in Hattiesburg, Mississippi and no one would call their parents to get money to fix the van so we all got part time jobs . . .” Osamu began.
And we sat in the rain talking and laughing.
Jack Terricloth F.S.
10/18/17 7:00 am Williamsburg, Brooklyn
https://youtu.be/D5PStj6dr6g
18 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey there! A million thanks for finding my fic earlier (godparents)!! I saw on AO3 that AU prompts are accepted, so here I am dropping a little plot bunny. Basically sibling related AUs will do, e.g. on alouettesque's list: “Oh so you’re the camp counselor my little sibling keeps talking about”, "Our little siblings are on rival sports teams and I’ve made it my life goal to cheer louder than you". Cheers!
Going with the first prompt, sorry it’s taken me so long. Enjoy this uni!lock (aged) Sherlolly ficlet.
Counselor Trap
“Oh, so you’re the one!” Molly blurted out without meaning to, then turned beet red in mortification. “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that, it wasn’t an insult, I just wasn’t expecting, that is to say…you really are cu–uh, currently…here. At camp. And not…somewhere else,” she finished lamely.
The Really Cute Counselor her younger sister Tabitha “Toby” Hooper had been gushing over all summer simply lifted an eyebrow as Molly floundered and eventually clamped her lips shut. After the silence had stretched out for almost ten excruciating seconds he finally spoke. “You must be Molly Hooper, the older sister Toby’s always gushing about. The smart, sophisticated college student who has her act together and knows what she wants to do with her life already and is way too good for the likes of you, Curly Fu,” he said in a more-than-passable imitation of Toby’s speech patterns when she was on a tear.
“She, um, didn’t tell me you knew the nickname she’d given you,” Molly said weakly. “She heard that the Chinese press had given that nickname to some actor and she insisted it fit you better but I just assumed she’d actually kept that to herself.” Shut up, Molly, she advised herself. Stop making yourself look like an even bigger idiot than you already have. Why do gorgeous men always make you feel so awkward?
Instead of laughing at her or making one of the staggeringly accurate deductions Toby insisted he did all the time, even when Mrs. Hudson and Head Counselor Lestrade tell him to knock it off, he smiled. Not a mean smile and not a cold, fake smile (Toby said he could do those too…come to think of it, Toby said a LOT about Counselor Curly Fu, now that Molly thought about it)…she completely lost her train of thought at that smile, reaching out dazedly to take the hand he extended. “Sherlock Holmes, although I suppose you can call me Curly Fu if you’d like. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable, it’s just that…well, Toby’s talked you up quite a bit and I was expecting someone a bit more intimidating, to be honest.”
“Um, well, she also talked you up quite a bit and I thought you would be, too. More intimidating. I mean, well, you are, actually, a bit, but not because you’re…it’s just that you’re really gorgeous and fit and I have never ever in my life been able to talk to gorgeous, fit blokes and oh lord just bury me now,” she groaned, trying to take her hand back so she could cover her face. Which was currently hot enough to bake an excellent Christmas pudding on.
“Good,” Sherlock said, not letting go of her hand. “Because I’ve always been rubbish at talking to girls - women now, I suppose since I can actually talk to girls or I’d be the worst camp counselor ever, if I could only talk to the boys.”
There was a hint of pink in his cheeks, Molly noted when she dared to raise her eyes back to his face, and his speech had become almost as flustered as his own. That gave her the confidence to meet his smile with one of her own. “Maybe we should start over?” she suggested tentatively.
His grip on her hand tightened before he pulled it away. “Excellent idea.” Taking a deep breath, he said, “Hi, I’m Sherlock Holmes, one of the counselors here at Camp Sherwood. You must be Molly Hooper, Toby’s sister. Very pleased to meet you.” He held out his hand again.
She smiled and shook it firmly. “Hi, yes, I’m Molly. So lovely to finally meet you. Sorry our parents couldn’t be here but they’re actually at a country line dancing festival in the US right now - Georgia, I think.”
“The Hotlanta Line Dance Jam*?” Sherlock asked.
Molly stared at him. “Um, yeah, how did you…”
“My parents love country line dancing, they practically live in the US,” he replied, rolling his eyes. “I, er, guess Toby wasn’t kidding when she said we’d have a lot in common.”
“You know it, Counselor Curly Fu!”
She and Sherock both turned at the sound of Toby’s smug voice. The twelve-year-old who was a miniature version of her nineteen-year-old sister was grinning widely. “Hi Molly!” She hugged her sister tightly and was hugged just as tightly in return. Sherlock started to move away to give them some privacy, but Toby quickly grabbed his wrist. “I have to go to archery practice, you have to show Molly around and then we can get lunch and you can tell her how awesome I am at everything, ‘kay? Laters!”
With that she darted off to join a group of other kids, grabbing up a quiver of arrows and a bow on her way.
Molly and Sherlock both stared after the diminutive Hurricane Hooper, then turned back to face one another. “Sooo…care for a tour?” Sherlock asked, crooking his arm as if they were at a Victorian ball.
“Delighted,” Molly replied, resting her hand lightly on his elbow. “And while you point out the sights, feel free to share your opinion on cowboy boots.”
“Hate ‘em,” he replied promptly. “And the hats too. Did your parents make you wear them for family photos?”
Molly shuddered. “No, thank God, but don’t get me started on the fringed vests…and the chaps, dear GOD the horror of the chaps!”
oOo
“Told you they’d be perfect for each other,” Toby said smugly to her best friend at camp.
Rosie Watson grinned. “Now we just have to find someone for Head Counselor Lestrade, and the summer will be perfect!”
Giggling, the two pre-teens hoisted their quivers of arrows onto their shoulders and hurried to join the rest of the group.
After all, they needed to maintain their reputation as Junior Cupids in more ways than one!
*Hotlanta Line Dance Jam 2017
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Dylan Sprouse from Riverdale in the upcoming movie After We Collided
Yes, it’s official. The Dylan Sprouse fans can now rejoice as they’ll be able to see him in After We Collided. According to the film’s official social accounts, Dylan is now part of it.
Dylan Sprouse announces his new role
View this post on Instagram
We have our Fucking Trevor @dylansprouse ❤️ #afterwecollidedmovie
A post shared by After Movie (@aftermovie) on Aug 4, 2019 at 10:18pm PDT
Apart from the film, Dylan, also has announced the news about his next role. According to him, he will play Trevor in After We Collided. He expressed his excitement about the film. Dylan also told that he was really eager to start the filming for it.
Dylan Sprouse also addressed this role as one of his roles that he is attached to the most.
About After We Collided
After We Collided, novel by Anna Todd (Source: Amazon)
Roger Kumble has signed to helm this project. After We Collided is based on Anna Todd’s novel that published on Wattpad in 2013. The novel revolves around Tessa Young’s journey of life in the first year of college.
In the sequel, After We Collided, Tessa and Hardin try to make their relationship successful. Tessa, however, learns the darker side of her relationship with him. As it was all a part of a bet in order to take her virginity.
Why Dylan Sprouse calls his role “Fucking Trevor”
Fucking Trevor. https://t.co/lNyQcXoIQk #AfterWeCollidedMovie
— After Movie (@aftermovie) August 5, 2019
You might be wondering that why did Sprouse call his role “Fucking Trevor” in the post. It’s because Hardin hates his character the most. And the reason for this is that Trevor might acquire feelings for Tessa. As Tessa and Trevor work together at Vance Publishing.
Excited to announce my participation as Trevor in After We Collided! Going to be filming in Hotlanta soon and can’t wait to keep y’all posted https://t.co/DDauSS8fJ3
— Dylan Sprouse (@dylansprouse) August 5, 2019
Dylan Sprouse also shared on his Twitter that the filming process for the sequel will begin soon. He also told that the film will begin shoot in Atlanta. Thus, that’s all we know for now. For more updates, keep watching this space!
The post Dylan Sprouse from Riverdale in the upcoming movie After We Collided appeared first on The Geek Herald.
0 notes
Text
How Did I Get Here?
It’s officially been 2 months since working at my first adult job and I still find myself giggling at the questions I ask myself daily. “How did I get here?” “Why was I hired?” How does a WVU graduate, obsessed with Juicy Couture since she was 12, get a job at a top commercial tire company? After setting my sights on a job in a fashion industry, here I am, two months after graduation, working with 120 pound tires.
When I first heard of this opportunity, I was focusing on applying to all the Gucci jobs I could find. But it just so happened that I got a LinkedIn email from a recruiter telling me about this job and asking if I would liked to be interviewed. With a week left until graduation, I was willing to take any job opportunity! I quickly sent the email to my parents with the subject line reading “LOL.” It was such an out of nowhere job, but the company was offering to fly me to Atlanta for the evening and I loved the break!
So I packed my bag and headed down to HotLanta. I was so excited to see the sites and explore the city. I, however, had no interest in actually putting effort into this job interview. I wanted something different and out of my tiny college town even for just one night. Unfortunately, I knew at some point I had to work on my presentation for the job interview and no amount of Vyvanse could help me get down to business. I stayed up until 4:30am working on the presentation hoping it at least wouldn’t look thrown together.
At 7:30 in the morning, I showed up at the front door of this massive office building, both questioning whether I should go through with this interview and if this Free People crepe blush top and Tarte ManBun lipstick combo was working for me. I figured my outfit would do for the day and I pushed forward. Walking into the room of candidates, I quickly assessed my competition. There were 9 of us, and only 2 were women. It was unlikely we would both be hired considering the current stats.
There were 4 assessment challenges a presentation: a customer conflict, a group meeting and an individual intensive one-on-one interview. During the presentation, I was surrounded by 8 men and 1 woman. As someone who is rarely intimidated in circumstances like this, I was surprised by my shakey voice and the feeling like I was about to cry. I didn’t care about this job, why was I so nervous? When one of the top men in the company finished my Q&A portion by asking me about the “cookie portion” of my resume, (yes, I make perfect cookies and felt as if I needed to publicize it) I knew I would be ok.
The customer conflict was not concerning to me. I had worked in a department store that focused heavily on customer service and I knew how to deal with unhappy customers. Our situation was this: there was an unhappy customer and we could give them back $15,000 for their troubles but we were instructed not to. They even suggested us to push further for more business from the customer. As I sat in the waiting room, each candidate came back complaining about how nasty the customer had been and how quickly they gave back the $15,000. No one had even discussed offering the customer the extra business. One poor schmuck even came in with a horrified look on his face; he had given the nagging customer back a whopping $35,000. This was when I realized that I could manage the task. I shut my mouth, played stupid, and waited for my turn to come. Naturally, I kicked ass, gave no money back, and even suggested more business to the customer.
When it came to the group meeting, I felt rather confident, but it was my first interaction with the asshole “I know better” man. Every time I spoke, he spoke over me, repeated me, or shot me down with a stupider idea. Luckily, a unicorn named Tobin helped make the guy look like an asshole and eventually hanging himself with his own words.
When I left for the day, I knew I had kicked butt, and naturally being the noisiest person I know, I got everyones info and immediately added them on Facebook to see who got the job. I needed to know.
Back at school, as I was packing my last box to move back to New York, I got the call. A fish out of water and a tire girl I would be. Just a day before graduation, I had gotten myself into the most ridiculous job I could ever imagine.
0 notes