angel cake ♡ tom holland/sebastian stan/chris evans oneshots

Story // Tom Holland

"Is he ready yet?" I asked, looking up from my camera and at anyone who was around. Violet, my assistant for the day, immediately sprung up.

"I can go check for you? I'll do that, I'll check for you!" She galloped off, running so fast even Quicksilver would have a hard time keeping up with her. I have no idea why, but I think I make her nervous. I was wearing a ochre turtleneck jumper with black skinny jeans and I'd kicked my shoes off the second I got inside the building so you could see my Captain Marvel socks - who the Hell gets nervous around people dressed like that? I smiled fondly and looked back down at my crossed legs, placing my camera with care on the table I was sat on and pulling my laptop closer to type a little more poetry.

"HE IS! HE IS, HE'S COMING!" Violet yelled bolting back. I jumped and almost spilled my hot chocolate on my keyboard. It fell onto the desk instead, and started to crawl towards my legs, and the laptop.

"Bull-shit, Vi, I need a tissue or something, fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" I cried, panicking and flapping my hands beside me like an agitated bird. Violet, probably without thinking, ripped off her white cardigan and threw it over the liquid. It soaked it up and stained the wool. I covered my mouth with my hand.

"Oh God, Vi, you didn't have to do that. God, I feel so bad."

"It's fine, y/n, I don't mind." She demanded firmly, wiping up the reisdue. I put my latop behind me and reahced over for a tissue from the neighbouring table, helping her clean it all up (even though someone would probably do it for me if I asked them to).

"Whose is this?" A warm British voice asked and I looked over my shoulder. Tom Holland, the guy I was photographing today, was pointing at my excessively-stickered laptop. I grinned, blushing, and raised my hand.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to leave it open." I shut it hastily and hopped off the table, offering out my hand for him to shake. He took it.

"I'm Tom."

"Y/n, pleasure."

"What was the thing called?"

"Huh?"

"Was it poetry?"

"Oh, you mean the stuff on my laptop, right," I laughed, putting my camera around my neck and walking with him to the white backdrop we were using, Violet scuttling close behind, "Melancholy Pleasure."

"That's a pretty cool title."

"I try." I grinned, then pointed at the set, telling him to pose however he wanted. I squinted through the lens and took a few pictures of him looking seriously into the camera.

"Do you write much poetry?" He asked softly. I smiled.

"Guilty pleasure."

"Can you remember any?"

"Off the top of my head? Probably a couple, yeah."

"Are they any good?"

"Nope." I replied, popping the 'p' and grinning. Tom laughed and I eagerly took pictures.

"Stories?"

"I can make one up?"

"Do." And so I did.

"This is a story about a girl called... Lyla, and all she wanted to do was write. It was everything she ever wanted. Every day, every night, her mind was filled with fantasies of flawed people being their better selves until they meet someone who lets them crack, who allows them to show them the darker side, who loves them either way..." I kept going the entire photoshoot, murmuring to him softly behind the camera and taking a picture of his reaction to everything - the shock, the amusement, the fear, the sadness, the delight. All of it. I think it felt a lot better to know that was how he would react to my life story, because naturally, I choked and told him everything about me.

"Okay, that's a wrap, folks!" A man boomed and I straightened myself quickly. Tom smiled at me.

"And Lyla knew that was what she'd always do, even through other jobs. She called it her destiny, her calling, and she wasn't one to ignore such a perfect call." I finished quietly, turning my camera off. Usually I would go through the pictures the second the shoot was done, choose my favourite few, then edit those and send them off, but I was exhausted. I just wanted to go home and watch some shitty movie I'd watched a million times before.

"Hey, y/n." Tom caught up with me while I walked out of the studio. His steps fell in with mine.

"Hey, Tom, what's up."

"I was just going to ask if... you wanted to go get pizza with me. Or something." I smiled, blushing a little.

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why? That was an amazing story. I want to hear yours." I giggled.

"That WAS mine. I'm not that creative, Tom, but I try to be. I wouldn't mind hearing yours though."

"You sure? It's pretty boring."

I rolled my eyes. "RIGHT. And I think I'm going to raincheck pizza, I just want to go home." Tom drooped a little and I snapped my fingers as we reached the bus stop.

"Actually, not rainchecking it, ordering it in. Have you ever seen I, Tonya?"

"I've been meaning to." Tom grinned.

"Well then, I'm going to ask if you want to come back to mine and eat a takeaway with a really cool movie. Or something." I winked.

"Or something sounds like a pretty good follow up."

"Damn right it does."

~~~~~

ooohhh

this is baddd

sorryyyy

my nana's coming soon she's on her way i'm so excited

because as previously mentioned in le rant book (plugplugplug read it plugplugplug)

she's just like meee

but i'm kinda scared about the presents

because i think she forgets how old i am

and thinks i'm still seven

but i love her, so it's chill

bye loves

viv x