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

Hoodie // Chris Evans

   Loud music played from what seemed like everywhere conceivable, and a female singing voice still managed to tunelessly drown it out, screaming the lyrics and dancing around her apartment. Well, the apartment she shared. Her flatmate was used to her by that point, though, and she'd stopped caring if he cared.

 "I'm still rocking your hoodie..." Paige twirled into the kitchen and grinned at Chris. He was sat at the table, head in his hands and laughing. He looked up when he saw movement.

   "It makes me think about ya so I wear it when I sleep..." She shimmied her shoulders and kept going across to the kitchen cupboards, taking out a tub of Nutella and a spoon from a drawer. Chris rubbed his eyes and closed over the script he was going over for his next movie. Paige sat on the table in front of him, swinging her legs.

   "I'm still rockin' your hoodie, baby..."

   "Even though it hurts." Chris sung back, rolling his eyes at her fondly. She whooped and gave him a thumbs up, then took her phone out of her enormous hoodie pocket. Well, technically, HIS enormous hoodie pocket - she had a habit of stealing his clothes. He had no idea how it happened, but she always managed to take his clothes, then she'd flaunt them proudly like she had achieved something astounding. To be fair, Chris' room was always locked, and he always washed his own clothes without taking his eyes off them the entire time - he had no idea how Paige did it, and so often. She turned down her music a little.

   "What are you doing today?"

   "Uh, I'll be filming."

   "So we're having a takeaway."

   "Why do you call them that?"

   "What? Takeaways?"

   "It's takeout."

   "It's takeaway."

   "Yeah, in England."

   "What's wrong with saying English things? Is it the accent? Oh God, I knew my accent was weird." Paige rambled and Chris laughed at her quickly.

   "No, it's cute, your accent's cute, you're cute, happy?"

   Paige grinned at him while he murmured words with his eyes closed, practising his lines. He opened his eyes and looked at her suspiciously.

   "What?"

   "You," she leaned forward and poked his chest, "Just called me cute." She beamed proudly and Chris groaned at her.

   "Don't worry, don't worry, Chris, love, I know, I'm irresistible, don't fight your true feelings." Paige declared dramatically, hopping off the table and wandering smugly back to the cupboard so she could put her Nutella away. Chris watched her go, steps steady and confident. Neither one of them spoke while Paige put her jar away and threw the spoon into the sink. Then Chris stood up. She glanced up at him from where she was picking off her nail polish in the centre of the room, and she looked a little startled. Chris strode forward and cupped her face in his hand, pushing her back into the wall. She looked up at him and gently touched his fingers, eyes wide and endless.

   "What would you say if I did?" His voice was gravelly and deep and her stomach kicked violently, though in the best possible way.

   "Did what?" She whispered back.

   "Had a crush on you."

   "You sound like a eight-year-old boy, Chris. Use adult terminology." He smirked at her and she grinned back, then she rested her hands on his firm chest to stand on her tiptoes gently kiss his lips. Her skin sparked where it met his like fireworks and her arms slipped around his neck of their own accord. She couldn't tell where she ended and he began, bodies flush against each other and embrace filled with all the things neither person had dared say in all the time they lived together. After seconds, minutes, hours, neither knew, Paige pulled back, standing fully on her feet, her legs weak and eyes laced with love. Her fingers fluttered down over his arms filling his shirt, tracing light little lines over his warm skin. She bent her leg a little.

   "I'm keeping your hoodie." She finally whispered and he chuckled softly to her.

   "Really, dude?" Chris and Paige's heads turned to the door straight away guiltily, where Anthony Mackie was stood, arms across his chest and eyebrow raised.

   "Anthony, why-"

   "You're not even gonna say like 'Hey babe, that was great, let me fuck you on the table', you're just gonna laugh? You got no game." Paige reluctantly came out of the embrace to hit Anthony on the head.

   "You ruined a moment, dude. Fucking twat." She rolled her eyes at him and sat on the table, pulling the sleeves of Chris' hoodie over her hands for sweater paws.

   "Twat? What kind of word-"

   "It's English slang, uncultured swine." Paige said haughtily, then they both laughed. 

   "Why are you here?" Chris' voice sent shivers down the girl's spine and she sighed a little to herself.

   "Came to pick you up for shooting, you're late. Wondered why, now I don't." She glanced back at Chris and smirked a little. He half-smirked back at her, arms over his chest. Anthony looked between them.

   "Can you not, I'm right here, it's really awkward."

   "Yeah, sorry, I'm coming now." Chris pushed his arms through a leather jacket and picked his script up from the table, then paused beside Paige. She waited, then rolled her eyes and leaned in, kissing him hard and drawing back after only a second. Anthony spluttered at Chris' desperate face.

   "You get the extended version when you get back."

   "I'd better."

~~~~~

kadwoefnoqwnf

i'm so tired

estoy cansadisimo

this was short trash like me, but i've definitely written worse, lemme tell you that for nothing

but the picture makes it better, right? ;)))

much love for my loves

viv x