cherrys-muses

[cherrys-muses]

was nawtttt going to post these — but, they’re recent and i enjoy them slightly :p

[cherrys-muses]

will be writing for jake because @geminiwritten has inspired me to do so.

thank you queen who i think about and who’s stories i live vicariously in.

[cherrys-muses]

How about Johnny Storm and Y/n get caught in the rain and because it’s raining Johnny can’t fly the two of you home so you decide to wait until the rain stops and it ends up leading to you kissing. Sorry for this rambling excuse for a request lol. I hope you have a good day/night!

an; oh …. oh you know me so well already and what i like to hear 😼 (also this took FOREVER for me to get out to you, i am so sorry :( thank you for being patient with me MWAH). w; probably ooc johnny (def), lower case intended, sweet sweet love

the rain was sudden, causing goosebumps to form along your arms. your eyes can’t help but notice the small bumps that form against johnny’s neck.

you let out a laugh, causing a grumbling, blonde to look at you, narrowing his eyes. you grin. “now you can’t show off.”

“that’s what you’re talking about? it’s pouring out!” he motions towards the rain as if you hadn’t noticed it. your brows lift slightly, head tilting. “how are we going to get home — it was your idea to walk.”

“and you told me how you were so happy you gave into me while walking here,” you say, matter-of-fact. “plus, it’ll cool the heat down some hopefully.”

johnny hums, mostly to himself, eyes turning back towards the droplets. his mouth pulls into a small smile, eyes glancing back. “wanna dance?”

you quickly look at him, your own smile faltering at the question. “wait, really?” he shrugs a bit, grabbing your hand. before you could say anything more, he’s pulling you off the sidewalk and into the cold rain. a small sound leaves you before a laugh bubbles up from your chest.

he’s quick to spin you, grinning when he pulls you closer, a hand pressed into your lower back as the other holds your shaky hand.

that was most definitely from the cold.

the smile that had faltered only a moment ago, grows a bit more again, head shaking. your fingers grip his hand once, softly, gentle.

and johnny…

johnny storm looks devastatingly beautiful with his hair soaked, sticking to his forehead and temples. a water droplet drops from his nose and to the ground.

his smile fades slowly, spinning you once more, this time, he’s pulling you even closer. his fingertips press into your side as his arm encircles around your waist, the knuckles of his fingers bending just slightly.

you’re almost sure he can feel how fast your heart is beating against his chest. especially since it feels as if he’s trying to mend you both together, turn you into one.

his eyes are flickering down, tracing over the natural line of your lips — drawing it in his memory as they slowly part.

his eyes then trace up the slope of your nose, slowly, eyes connecting with your own and suddenly, his nose his brushing against your own, your breath getting lodged in your throat.

it’s just a gentle brush at first, before his lips press against yours — and your melting instantly.

your hand slides up his forearm, pass his bicep and shoulder, up his neck to cup his jaw that has droplets slipping slowly down into your palm now, your other hand finding its home on the back of his neck.

both hands grip at your hips now, pulling you closer. it’s gentle, slow, everything that you dreamed it would have been like — plus more.

your the first to pull away slowly, laughing breathlessly when he chases after you without a second though.

“didn’t think you’d be able to kiss, johnny.”

his eyes slowly open, that playful smile pulling at his lips when he pecks your lips once more, the tip of his nose nudging against your own.

“you thought about me kissing?”

[cherrys-muses]

Hi! One ticket for “Fantastic 4” w/ a sugar rush and a hot dog, please

of course!!! thank you stopping by.

here is your ticket, drink, and food! enjoy love! 💖

[cherrys-muses]

you’re now entering theatre 3!

NOW PLAYING; I’LL CRAWL HOME TO HER.

🍿 order; sugar rush and hot dog

🎟️ ticket; fantastic four

w; probably ooc!johnny, there’s not really angst 💔, this is really really short an; i’m so sorry that this is extremely short :( i tried to think of more but i couldn’t sadly — my brain isn’t functioning properly at the moment (especially since i’ve been going to bed at four in the morning almost this past week 😍) but i still hope you guys enjoy this!!

It’s in the early hours of the morning when the bed dips and covers rustle. You’ve noticed that when Johnny isn’t next to you, you’re a light sleeper — the smallest sound could wake you. 

Your eyes are heavy, still, as they open just a tad. There’s still light shining in through the blinds, creating shadows along the wall of Johnny’s shoulders moving as he unties his shoes. You can tell he’s trying his best to be slow, quiet, careful not to wake you. 

You slowly roll onto your back, the heavy cover slipping from your hip. Your leg now pokes out from under the cover and your arm carefully reaches out, your fingertips walking up slowly along the base of his spine. His back straightens, body slightly leaning towards the side as he glances back. 

“You know I’m ticklish.” 

You grin softly, nodding against the pillow, your hair growing more tangled from the movement. “Why do you think I do it?” You giggle softly. He rolls his eyes, finishing pushing off the boot, letting it drop with a heavy thud. You watch as he stands, stripping to just his boxers before slipping under the covers. 

You’re quick to move over when his arm rests over the top of the pillows, a quiet invitation. Hand sliding over his stomach, you press a quick kiss to his mouth, then his cheek, then to his shoulder before pressing your cheek to his warm chest. “I missed you.” 

“You saw me this morning.” He’s teasing, easing his fingertips into the strands of your hair, scratching at your scalp. Your eyes drop more, head leaning into the action. 

“Still,” You mumble. “Can’t really sleep when you aren’t here with me.” Johnny hums softly, eyes dropping down as he watches your shoulder drop. The corners of his mouth quirk into a small smirk, head shaking. 

You’re already half-way asleep again, the fingertips at his hand slow to a stop, now grazing the sheets instead but never pulling away from his skin. 

His lips press to your forehead softly. “I’m here now. You can sleep.” He mumbles softly. There’s a barely there nod before your body finally gives in, pulling you into a deep sleep, sweet dreams of Johnny and little Storm’s running around the apartment filling the other world that welcomes you when you enter. 

[cherrys-muses]

watched ‘28 years later’ today ….

who wants a new aaron character unlocked?

[cherrys-muses]

Hi, Cherry! Can I get a ticket for bullet train with a pretzel, junior mints and slushee? Please and thank you 🥰

This is super cute! I can't wait to see what you come up with!

of course! thanks for dropping by!

here’s your ticket, snacks, and drink! i hope you enjoy!

(thank you so much!! i hope you enjoy this 🩷)

[cherrys-muses]

you’re now entering theatre 1!

NOW PLAYING; WHEN YOU’RE FEELING LOW, I WILL BE THERE TOO.

🍿 order; pretzel, junior mints and slushee

🎟️ ticket; bullet train.

w; *not following bullet train script* mentions of bullet wounds, angst :p, showering together but nothing happens — 16+ at least please! an; i actually enjoyed this one ❤️ i hope you guys enjoy as well!!

The strange feeling of a heavy palm pressing against your wound, applying dizzying pressure, is not lost on you. Though your eyes are heavy and your body is struggling to keep in step with whoever is leading you away from the sound of gunshots and shattering glass. 

Your body jerks to the side, the top of your head grazing the man’s cheek. He grunts a bit loudly, wincing from the shards that fly towards the both of you. There’s no way he could leave Lemon alone, fending from himself, and carrying you towards somewhere safe — this will have to be good enough. 

He lowers you towards the ground, kneeling in front of you. His hand is surprisingly gentle as it leans your head towards the wall, brushing the shards that stick in your hair, shimmering slightly under the light. 

“Stay here,” He points at you with the bloodied hand. His eyes glance at the crimson that covers his hand before lowering at your wound. “Well…you know what I mean,” 

Though you’re not arguing with him like usual, he needs to get the last word in. It’s just the man he is. “Don’t move.” Your lips move, and you believe you’re speaking, you believe you’re glaring — but your lips only part and your eyes have remained lidded. He stands, wiping his hand on the side of his dress pants, eyes lingering on you quietly. Heaving out a heavy sigh, he runs head on back into the danger zone. 

Lemon notices him, a slight look of relief and confusion on his face. “I know you didn’t have time to get her there and back!” He shouts, throwing a punch. 

Tangerine grunts, gun dropping from his hand and getting kicked under a table. He reaches for a wooden tray, swinging it hard enough to knock a guy's tooth loose. “Out front,” Is the only explanation he gives, dodging a punch. “I knew you needed help.” 

Lemon lets out a disgruntled noise, shaking his head. “Stubborn as a bull.” He mutters to himself. 

—

The sun that shines into the room makes the pounding in your head a thousand times worse, eyes squeezing shut as you turn your head quickly, burying your face into the pillow, a small noise escaping you. 

“Good mornin’, sunshine,” Your heavy head lifts slightly, eyes watching as Lemon strolls inside, a box in one hand. “Took ya long enough. Thought you were dead.” He lets out a small laugh. 

Rolling slightly onto your back, your hand covers your eyes. “Can you please shut the curtains?” Your voice is weak and your throat is dry. 

“No can do, luv. You’ve been out for two — almost three — days now,” He steps closer, placing the box onto your stomach. “You need the sun. Time to eat a bit.” Your eyes glance down at the pink box before looking back up at Lemon. 

“How did I…” Your words trail off, but your hand motions slightly around the room and Lemon is quick to pick up what you’re asking. 

“Ah, well, you got shot as you know,” He motions towards your body — there’s a smile on his face as he speaks. You glance down, only aware of the change of your dress into a baby blue button up. “Tan and I took care of ya.” 

“Tangerine?” Your eyes quickly shoot over towards him, narrowing your eyes as your jaw clenches. 

“That’s his name,” He chuckles a bit nervously. Grumbling to yourself, you take the box that has a pastry in it, placing it to the side before gripping the sheets and quickly ripping them from your lower half. It’s only when you start trying to lift onto your elbow, Lemon is quick to shake his hands. “Aye, no no. I wouldn’t do that—” He winces at the sudden cry that leaves your mouth. 

His hands meet your shoulders, pushing you back down to the pillow. You stare up at him, teeth bared as you let out a small groan of aggravation. Or pain. 

Or both, really, if you’re being honest with yourself. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Lemon finally finishes and pulls his hands from your shoulders, pulling the plush covers up and over your hips. “You don’t want those stitches comin’ loose, do ya?” 

Your mouth pulls into a tight line, but you shake your head slightly. Lemon only nods and grabs the small pink box once again. “What I thought. Now, eat. Tan will be here to help you to the bathroom in a bit.”

You open the box, shoulders deflating at the look of the delicious looking pistachio pastry. Lemon’s words finally hit you like a freight train, your head quickly whipping over to look at him retreating towards the door. “What? Why him? You can’t help me?” 

“We’ve been takin’ turns, luv. His turn is next,” Lemon says without turning back. “See ya later.” The door opens and shuts behind him, leaving you staring at the golden knob, lips parted and ready to fight back. 

Slowly turning your head back, you bite at the inside of your cheek with narrowed eyes and a heart beat that leaves you feeling uncomfortable. 

— 

It’s been a couple of hours. You’re not sure how many. All you know is that your back and hips hurt, the shows and movies didn’t look at all entertaining or enjoyable at the least, and the sky outside is melting into a deep bruise of purple and blue with a bit of pink. 

It’d be beautiful if you could enjoy it. 

The door opens, catching your attention, but you don’t turn your head. You know who it is entering the room — the air shifts to accommodate him and the smell of his expensive perfume burns your nose and his footsteps are a sound of their own, demanding attention that Tangerine begs for. 

Your jaw clenches, arms loosely crossed over your lap as you keep your eyes pointed towards the window. The television plays on a random movie it had auto-selected. 

He stops by the bed, deep ocean eyes cutting over towards the television before you. He reaches for the remote by your leg, clicking the power button before tossing it onto the nightstand, the sound making you flinch and finally blink as you slowly look over at him. 

“Ah, lovely,” He mutters. “Time to give you a wash.” 

“I do not want you in there.” 

“I won’t be. I’ll be outside the door,” He waves his hand around. “It’s set up for you and everything — don’t be a hardhead and help me out. The faster we hurry, the faster I’ll leave you alone.” 

His hand is reaching for your blanket then, pulling them from your legs. His eyes linger on the bruises that had formed and the scrapes. Once he’s close, the cologne is overwhelming and you notice the small scabs by his eye and temple. There’s a few on the side of his neck, but not much. 

“What happened?” His eyes then cut up towards you. He looks clueless about the question so you lift your hand and motion towards the side of your face, hoping that explains a tad more. 

His fingers graze the skin slightly, feeling the raise of healing cuts. “Oh. The window we were passin’ by shattered — little shards got me,” You nod slightly, looking towards his hand that slides around your tender side, surprisingly gentle. “On the count of three — 3…2…” You let out a breath when you try pushing yourself to help him the best you could, teeth gritting together as your eyes slide close. 

Your chest heaves with heavy breaths, forehead grazing his chest as his hand drags towards your back now. “Lean on me.” You only nod, allowing him to turn you whichever way, leaning on him as he guides you to the bathroom. You notice how quiet it is, eyes tracing for any other signs of life in the apartment. 

“Where’s Lem?” 

He’s silent for a moment, opening the bathroom door as he leads you inside. Then, finally, he answers. “He went out. He’d been gettin’ on my last nerve, bouncin’ ‘round like he was strung out. Told him to go do something before I kicked him out permanently.” You know that part wasn’t true. Tan loved his brother, that much you knew. 

He goes to turn on the light, but you're quick to let out a small noise. “Can…you leave the light off, please?” 

His attention casts towards you, a frown tugging at the corner of his mouth. “What? You won’t be able to see any—”

You cut him off quickly. “Kind of the whole point. I’d rather not see something I’m gonna have to live with for the rest of my life just yet,” Tangerine stays silent, so you add on. “Plus, there’s enough light right now for me to see.” Your chin nudges upwards slightly towards the window that’s lining the top of the shower. 

Tan glances at the window, letting out a quiet sigh before pulling himself away from you. “I laid out some clean clothes there,” You glance towards the folded up shirt and boxers along with a towel and rag. “Some shampoo and conditioner from your apartment is in the shower. I’ll start the water and get out of here so you can get on with it.” 

You watch him as he makes his way over towards the shower, your fingers slowly lifting and brushing against the edge of the first button. The water hits the tiles and he clears his throat, pulling away and making his way out of the bathroom. The door shuts without another word and your face crumbles with silent pain, mouth parting as the heat from the wound licking up your side. 

Your head tilts back as you fight to keep the tears settled, shaky fingers unbuttoning the top and letting it drop. A small noise leaves your throat when the fabric brushes along the wound and you force your eyes to keep from looking at the irritated skin. 

You can feel the heat radiating from your skin near the edges of where you suspect the thread to be — that’s enough for you. Stepping into the shower is easy, there’s nothing raised that you have to step over to let the water run over your tense muscles. 

You stand there for a moment, eyes closed and forehead pressed to the slick tiles. It’s peaceful. Until you begin to raise your arms and the pull of skin has you crying out loudly from the stretch. 

Tan’s eyes quickly look towards the closed door, hand stopping just as quick as it reaches out. He won’t go in unless you call for him. 

It’s weak and takes at least three minutes, but it’s all he needs. “Tan.” The door creaks open as he steps in, eyes respectful as they remain lifted. 

He frowns when he hears a sob get stuck in your throat, head turning to look at him. “Could…could you help, please?” He nods, making his way over. “No, I mean…” You trail off, almost embarrassed to even be asking, but — just as Lemon — he gets what you’re asking. 

He only nods, fingers brushing along the hem of his top as he pulls it from his body. You turn your head to give him a small amount of privacy, as much as you can for now. The door opens and Tangerine makes a face when his briefs are immediately soaked. 

It dissolves quickly before you could even notice. 

“What do you need help with?” 

You remain turned away from him, embarrassed, heart in your throat, and your tears falling with the droplets of water that slide down the drain. “I…I don’t…” Your breath gets caught again as you turn to look over at him. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” Your chin wobbles and he’s caught off-guard by the sudden apology. 

“What are you—hey,” He steps closer, reaching out but falls short just as quickly. “What are you sorry for?” 

Shaking your head, your arms cross over your chest. Shielding yourself the best you could, your eyebrows furrowed together. “I don’t ever ask for help. Or I try not too…sometimes I break and need it,” There’s a long pause and you swallow thickly as your glassy eyes slowly trail back up to him. His eyes remain respectful and so does he. “And you hate me — now you’re stuck with helpin’ me.” 

“I don’t hate you.” He’s quick to deny what he’s said many times in the heat of the moment. Usually when you do something reckless. 

“You say it all the time, Tan.” 

“Doesn’t mean that it’s true,” He’s quick with his words. “I don’t hate you — I say that when I’m angry at you for doin’ something reckless and almost killin’ yourself,” Your lips pull into a tight line, eyes darting away from him. The water hits the both of you, your hair clings to your temples and cheek. His curly hair tapered down to his head, a bit of water traces down the bridge of his nose. Your eyes slowly trail back to him. 

“I don’t hate you.” You nod, silent for a moment. 

“Could you hold me? Just for a second?” 

It doesn’t take him a second to even think about it. He’s moving close, hands gentle on your arms as he tugs them around his side before one of his own arms finds its way around your shoulder as the other rests in the middle of your back. 

Your hands press into his back, a sigh leaving as dancing across the warm skin of his chest, your lashes fluttering close and brushing over him slightly. 

His hand has a mind of its own when he pushes your hair from your face, wet lips landing on your wet forehead. 

Both of you standing under the shower head and the bruise of the sky envelopes you both into a dark hug that was peaceful. 

[cherrys-muses]

lewis pullman in a suit and tie.

that’s it. that’s the post.

[cherrys-muses]

hello, i’m mica and i’ve never really done this before but hopefully i’m doing this correctly !

i would like a ticket for fantastic four with a pretzel, nestle: dibs and water, please and thank you ^^

hi! yes of course!! thank you for stopping by!

here is your drink, treats, and ticket! i hope you enjoy 🩷

[cherrys-muses]

you’re now entering theatre 5!

NOW PLAYING; TRY A LITTLE TENDERNESS

🍿 order; pretzel, nestle: dibs and water

🎟️ ticket; fantastic four

w; *more than likely ooc!johnny!* — but other than that, none! just fluff and short :( an; i already love johnny storm — but so does everyone else i am not shocked!!!

Giggles are stifled in between a heavy palm over your lips, yet Johnny’s own giggles intertwined with your own as a dance. The radio plays lowly in the corner and the stove light is the only thing shining a dim light over the kitchen, some of the lights outside that seep in through the window of the Baxter building glisten off the polished floors. 

“Quieeet,” He mutters, shaking his head as his smile never fades. His cheeks are flushed in a pretty pink color, your finger coming to poke at his cheek. He’s warm to the touch — no surprise there. “Everyone is asleep.” 

“And you think you’re being quiet?” You lean in slightly, eyes crossing just a tad before you lean back from him. “You don’t know how to whisper while you’re sober!” 

He stares at you for a moment but giggles again. “I try my best,” He moves towards the cabinet, slowly opening. “And presenting….” He pulls a box of cereal from the cabinet. 

“Your snack.” You hum and take the box from his hands, a bowl is already placed in front of you on the counter and you try your hardest to not make a lot of noise while pouring. Setting the box to the side, you thank Johnny as he pours the milk into the bowl, grabbing the spoon and taking a healthy bite. 

A low groan leaves you, eyes sliding shut. Johnny smiles, leaning on the counter next to you as he watches you quietly. Your eyes slowly open, scooping more onto the spoon. Milk drips back into the bowl as you lean close, eyes cutting over towards Johnny. 

The look alone is quick to sober you — your back straightening just slightly. “You want some?” You point towards the spoon. His brows lift slightly. “Here.” 

He leans close then when you drag the bowl just a tad, shoulders brushing as he steals the bite from the spoon. You smile as he lifts, hip resting against the counter once again. “Thank you.” He mumbles through a mouthful. 

Glaring at him, you scoop some more onto the spoon. “You know I hate when you do that.” 

“Exactly why I do it,” Rolling your eyes, you take another bite, humming softly as you nod a bit. He swallows and reaches out, wiping away some milk from the corner of your lip. You quickly cut your eyes over to him. “Had a milk-stash.” He smiles a bit.

You nod quickly, turning back towards the bowl. You’re quick to finish off the cereal, placing it into the sink. You’re yawning as you turn, arms stretching over your head before they drop heavily by your side. “I’m exhausted.” 

Johnny lets out a small huff. “Come on, sleepyhead,” His hands land on your shoulders, leading you towards the hallway and down to his room. “I’m gonna shower. Pick whatever shirt you want.” He motions towards the closet. 

You nod and watch as he steps out of the room. You let out a small sigh, stepping towards the closet as you rummage throughout the clothes. Settling on a basic black tee-shirt, you quickly change and slip under the covers, allowing your eyes to slide close with a content sigh. 

Time passes slowly, but the bed shifts and your eyes slowly slide open. You smile tiredly when you see Johnny, his eyes already on you with a tired smile of his own tugging at his lips. 

He rolls onto his side, pulling the covers over his frame. “Thanks for staying tonight.” 

You shrug slightly, turning onto your side after he does. As if you were two kids wanting to share a secret. Your legs graze against his, his feet wrapping around your ankle. “I don’t mind,” You whisper softly. “I like spending time with you. You always make me laugh.” 

Johnny hums softly. “What else?” That smile he wore becomes a smirk as his brow raises. 

You roll your eyes, pushing at his shoulder as you begin to roll away. “Goodnight, Storm,” Though his fingers clamp around your wrist, stopping you halfway. You quickly look at him, smile faltering. His thumb brushes against the inside of your wrist. “What—”

“I want to kiss you.” 

Your lips part at the sudden declaration, blinking slowly as you stare at him. He says nothing. He never laughs. 

Slowly shifting closer, you nod only slightly. “O-okay.” You watch as he lifts onto an elbow, quickly following his lead. He lets out a small huff then, lips quirking into a small smile as his fingertips trail across your flushed cheek, pushing your hair behind your shoulder before cradling your jaw then. 

Your heart beats loudly and you wonder if Johnny could hear — you sure hope not. Your eyes aren’t sure where to linger — flickering quickly between his eyes before dropping down towards his lips. His nose brushes against yours. 

“Eyes closed.” He whispers softly, thumb brushing against your chin. Your eyes slowly drop, fully closing as his top lip brushes against your bottom lip before fully closing the space between. Your brows pinch together slightly, a hand quickly lifting and wrapping around his wrist. 

He’s stealing your breath just as you’re stealing his own. A gentle push and pull, your nose grazing against his skin softly as his thumb drags along your jaw. You're following him as he pulls away, a small laugh leaving his throat. 

 “Better than what I imagined.” 

Your brows lift, head tilting more into his palm. “You imagined kissin’ me, Storm?” 

He grins cheekily, leaning close and brushing a kiss along your temple. “All the time.” 

[cherrys-muses]

Hi I would like a ticket for Warfare with a Hot Dog and Surgar Rush please.

of course!! you’re in theatre three!

here is your treat, drink, and ticket! i hope you enjoy!

[cherrys-muses]

you’re now entering theatre 3!

NOW PLAYING; IF IT TAKES ALL NIGHT — I WILL BE ON YOUR SIDE.

🍿 order; hot dog & sugar rush

🎟️ ticket; warfare

w; slightly mentions the wound from the movie, a nightmare, but other than that — nothing! an; i’m not for sure if this one is any good and i apologize 💔 but hopefully it’s enough for you to enjoy!

Heat. 

Burning. Sweat. Blood. 

It fills the warm air that swarms around Sam’s body. It’s all he smells, feels, tastes. He can’t move, not really. He can only lift his chin slightly and he notices the wound to his thigh that releases a scream deep from the depths of his chest and into the smoke that clouds around him. 

“Sam!” 

He’s shooting up quickly, your head rearing back to avoid any collision. Sweat collects along his temple and along his body, his shirt sticks to him now. His chest heaves as he looks around. 

It’s still dark out, but the clock on the nightstand says 2:36. Your hand is gentle when it lands on his cheek — he almost flinches from the touch but his eyes quickly drift over to you instead. He swallows heavily. His throat feels as if he was still there — dry. Too dry. 

“Hey, breathe. Breathe,” Your voice is gentle, a light. Your touch is just as soft when it lands on his heart that beats wildly. His hand lands on your own, pressing it to his clammy skin. “You’re okay. You’re safe.” 

He nods jerkily, gulping once again. You begin to pull away but his reflexes were quick — fingers tightening causing you to pause and look at him. “Where are you going?” His voice is raspy, sleep still clinging to him. 

“I’m going to get you something to drink,” You whisper. “Then I’m gonna start up a cold shower, yeah? Might make you feel better. Cool you down.” 

He’s hesitant when he lets go and when you stand, he’s almost reaching out for you again. But he allows you to leave the room while he collects himself, eyes squeezing shut as he swings his legs out from under the covers. 

Soon, a cold water bottle is chugged and he’s stepping under a cold stream of water. “Can you stay?” His forehead rests against the tile. Your hand grasps his bicep gently before pulling away. 

“I’ll come back. Take a couple more minutes to yourself,” You say softly. “I’m going to get us some new clothes.” He nods and watches as you step out of the bathroom. He slowly lowers himself to the floor, shivering from the coolness pelting across his skin. It helps sometimes, feels nice rolling down his scarred skin. 

And just as you promised — you come back. The shower curtains close and you sit in behind him, resting your cheek to his back after pressing a soft, lingering kiss between his shoulder blades. Your fingertips drag across his skin slowly, humming softly. 

“I’m sorry,” He clears his throat when his voice suddenly cracks. “I’m sorry for waking you again.” 

He feels you shake your head against his skin before you pull away slightly. He glances over his shoulder when your chin lands against his bicep. “Don’t apologize. I’m always here for you, you know that, right?” He nods. “Same dream?” You whisper. 

He waits a moment, pursing his lips slightly as he nods again. You let out a small hum, pressing your lips to a freckle. 

You reach over and turn off the water and somehow it’s even more colder than what he was under the stream. “Come on,” You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth before standing and slipping out. He stands slowly and steps out, grabbing another towel that lies out for him. He dries off quickly and wraps it around his waist as he slowly makes his way out of the bathroom. 

He's still moving slowly — tired. He just wants to sleep. But maybe this is what he deserves. 

You’re already in a button-up he’s forgotten about and fuzzy socks, legs under the blanket. He doesn’t say anything about the changed sheets. Reaching for the boxers, then sweats, he pulls them over his legs and makes his way around the bed. Once he’s under the covers, you reach over and flick off the lamp, settling under the blankets. 

“Come here,” Your arms open. He quietly leans closer, laying his cheek against your chest, your arms dropping around him. “Which song?” Your fingers begin to card through his hair that’s started growing out again. 

His lips finally tug upwards into a small smile, eyes slowly closing. “Hurt? Johnny Cash?” 

“Alright,” You press a kiss to the top of his head, shifting slightly as your other hand comes up, dragging the tip of your finger over his eyebrow. You begin to hum softly, watching as his body slowly slumps, lips becoming more smooshed. 

Once he’s fully asleep, you press another kiss to his head, fixing your head as you look out the window, eyes slowly closing — meeting him in a dream. 

One where he’s safe, happy. 

[cherrys-muses]

Hi!!

I’m looking at the movies… I’d love a ticket to hoard with a popcorn and a slushee! Please and thank you! <33

of course! thank you for stopping by!

here’s your ticket along with your treats!!! i hope you enjoy!

[cherrys-muses]

you’re now entering theatre 9!

NOW PLAYING; BUT WE NEVER MET — IT’S FOR THE BEST.

🍿 order; popcorn and slushee!

🎟️ ticket; hoard

w; *this doesn’t follow the movie!*, not really ‘forbidden’ per se — more so a secret relationship, not a happy ending really an; this is probably so ooc ☹️ it’s been a while since i’ve watched or written for michael and i tried my hardest with coming up with something, so i hope this was okay!!

HOARD • amass (money or valued objects) hide or store away. 

Maybe it was you. 

Maybe that’s the reason why Michael had been nervous, or scared, to say anything to anyone — a valued secret. Someone just for him. 

The thrill of keeping you to himself — the secret gifts, a kiss — caress. He knew you were wrapped around his finger. You knew. And even after all the begging, all the pleading, all the tears and screaming, he still found a way to comfort you at the end. 

And you still stayed at the end. 

Some days were fine — you could handle it without saying anything. 

But it’s one of those days that has rubbed you the wrong way. Something he had mentioned passively as if it didn’t mean anything. 

“What do you mean?” You blink, watching as he moves around the kitchen as if he lived here with you — he does sometimes, every other weekend. There’s a blue toothbrush next to your purple one and watermelon flavored mouthwash because he couldn’t stand mint. There’s also a drawer that you’d cleared out just for him that had some pajamas he’d brought, some clothes hung from the rod in your closet. Your underwear drawer now consists of his own boxers and socks. 

His muscles tense as he reaches into the cabinet. He grabs a muffin pack and rips it open, places the small piece of paper onto the counter, reaches over his shoulder to shut the door after he turns and leans back against the counter. “She just asked to go out for a couple of drinks — nothin’ major.” 

Your brows pinch together slightly, shaking your head as you huff out a scoff that mingles into an airy laugh. “It…It’s nothin’ major?” You watch as his fingers shove the muffin into his mouth with a small shrug of his shoulder. “‘Course it’s major, Michael! You’ve told me many, many times before how she enjoys your company — how is inviting you out to drinks not—”

“You’re over thinkin’ this whole thing. That’s why I shouldn’t have told you.” He shakes his head, the pack crinkles in his hand as he pushes himself off the counter and makes his way towards the bedroom. You stand there, quietly, heart thundering in your chest as you look over your shoulder. 

You can distantly hear the shower begin — your jaw clenches and you turn as you make your way towards the bedroom. Yanking the curtains back, he lets out a shout, reaching to grab the fabric. “You know why she flirts with you, huh?” Your brows lift. 

He lets out a sigh. “Can we please not do this while I’m in the shower? When I’m out, you can yap my ear off ‘bout it while I get ready.” 

“So, you’re going? You’re actually gonna go?” 

“Why would I pass up drinkin’?” 

You stare at him, lips parted. Scoffing, you shake your head. “Finish cleanin’ yourself up then,” Your jaw clenches. “Wouldn’t want her smellin’ that trash you deal with all day.” You turn and make your way out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. 

You're slightly lightheaded from the sudden rush of anger that boils in your blood. Flipping on the bedroom light, you reach for a bag before grabbing the handles of the bottom drawer. Shoving his clothing in without any care, you barely realize the tears that had suddenly fallen down your cheeks. 

You let out a small sound when you stand, your hip sliding against the sharp edge of the dresser. Your hands shake and the dresser shakes just as much against the wall when you yank the top drawer open. 

You’re not going to be a fool anymore. Not when Michael is scared — not when he wants to hoard you away. 

Hands grasp at your biceps firmly, the bag dropping from your hand immediately. “Hey, look at me,” It’s Michael and the urge to scream in his face is strong. But dissolves just as quickly when his hands cradle your jaw to turn your head. Your eyes squeeze shut as you shake your head, shoulders shaking from a small sob that releases. He says your name, quiet, gentle. The tears that had fallen gets smeared over your skin in a useless manner to rid of them, drying tacky. His thumbs press into the the skin close to the corner of your mouth. 

Michael was messy — he was messy in all the ways you’d never believe. Dirty boots thrown somewhere in the living room that your trip over. Boxers or socks he’d change out of would either rest on the bathroom floor, along with his towel, or on the floor near the hamper. 

Messy with the way he held you and kissed you. Messy with the way he dried your tears. 

“Please,” He whispers. Your chin quivers slightly. Finally, your eyes open slowly and you watch as his frown deepens and shoulders slightly drop as he stares at you. “I don’t want you bein’ upset with me. I hate when you cry.” 

Letting out another sob, you shake your head again pulling yourself away from him — fingers rubbing at your chest as you make your way towards the bed. “Just leave. Please. Go.” Your voice is weak as you climb into the bed, curling up in the middle. 

It’s silent. It’s so silent and your ears ring from how loud it is — your heart feels as if it’s about to burst out of your chest and you think Michael is gone. 

Until the bed shifts after the lights flicker off. He’s warm when he slips an arm over your waist, drawing your back close into his chest. Squeezing your eyes shut, your hand grasps at his own. You want to push it away from your body — but you find yourself moving closer and tugging his arm tighter over yourself. 

His chin hooks over your shoulder, nose brushing against your cheek, lashes fluttering close to your ear. 

“Why do you love hurting me more than…more than actually showing me the love you claim you have for me?” His fingers grip at your side tightly and your chin quivers again as your eyes slowly open. “Why is lovin’ me in public scare you so much that you have to love me in private?” 

Michael remains silent. His forehead rests against your temple now, eyes slowly closing as he sighs — warm breath brushing over your skin. The smell of watermelon teases your nose. 

He never answers. 

Just holds you as if it were the best secret ever. Something forbidden he could only touch. 

[cherrys-muses]

I LOVE YOU. I LOVE YOUR BLOG. I LOVE YOUR WRITING. !!!

WAIT WHAT THANK YOU 🩷 i’ve been feeling anxious for the past two/three days and seeing this made me genuinely smile. thank you thank you thank you 💌

[cherrys-muses]

hiiiii<3, i love your clean fics and how amazing you write them! I was just wondering if you're going to write for Johnny Storm? absolutely no pressure at all i was just wondering. have a good day!!

<3

hi!! thank you so much 🩷 and yes max i definitely am going to be writing more for johnny — i already have two or four posted (?) i believe! they’re not full fledged fics, but they’re a little something! thank you again for reading and your kind words, i hope you have a wonderful day!!