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nuagederose · 1 month

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Dark Roots of Earth | Chapter Ten: Since I’ve Been Lovin You

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Christine was more than eager to have her sketchbook open for them, and her heart pounded at the mere thought of putting the graphite down on the fresh sheets. All she could hope for was the most perfect drawings that she could show to Alex if and when she had the chance. Valentina kept her hat on as she perched herself on the stool before the window: a warm breeze wafted through the screen behind her, and her hair fluttered about over her shoulders as if she was a model of sorts. Chuck and Eric were both on the couch, the latter of whom had propped up his chin in the palm of his hand and leaned against the arm as if he belonged in the centerfold of a magazine. The former let his curls, the same color as freshly-brewed molasses.

Christine gripped onto her pencil as if she was holding onto a magic wand, and she let the graphite find its way onto the grains of the paper. It was trickier than she had imagined, given the lighting in her apartment and the fact that she was drawing three different people, one right after the other.

Chuck held still with one hand rested upon the arm of the couch, and she was amazed that he kept still for as long as he did as she added texture to his curls and the crests of his shoulders. She raised her gaze to his face and locked onto his eyes, luminous and striking even with his sun-kissed complexion. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Eric with his legs knitted together at the knee, again like a centerfold.

Something told her to draw him in the style of a magazine when she got to him, but she had to finish the shading on Chuck’s squarish face and stout neck first. The graphite was soft enough that she could go dark enough with the underside of his hair, but she only let the graphite glide over the paper for the highlights at the crown of his head. She held the paper back a bit, and all the while, she flashed a glimpse up at Chuck to ensure that she had drawn him well enough.

She then turned the book around for him to see, to which his face lit up. Eric gaped at the sight of it as well; Valentina leaned towards the book for a look herself.

“Oh, my god, Chris, that looks just like him,” she declared in a hushed voice.

“Yeah, I’d put like… some kind of fixative on that so it never smudges,” Chuck suggested with a running of his fingers through his hair. “I can move now, can I?”

“You sure can!” Christine assured him as she carefully turned the page for another clean one. “Onto Mr. Peterson now.”

All the while, she wished that Alex was there. She wished that she could talk with him about all manner of things, especially pertaining to the drawings on her lap. She kept on thinking about him even as she made Eric into a cartoonish drawing straight out of Playboy magazine with the bold outline and the thick shading on his head of fine, smooth black hair.

She drew Valentina in a similar fashion, especially with her back to the window and her black hair billowed over her shoulders. Once Christine reached the brim of her hat and the shading on her bangs, she fetched up a yawn.

“What time is it?” Eric asked right then, also with a yawn.

“Almost midnight,” Chuck replied after a quick glimpse to his watch. Christine signed her name at the bottom of the page and then closed the book.

“What, you’re not going to show us the one of Valentina?” Eric teased her.

“In the morning during our cup of coffee,” Christine assured him with a wink. She padded down the hallway with Valentina behind her, although she wanted to have all the privacy to change her clothes. She glanced over at her phone resting upon the desk, right next to her lamp, and she thought about calling him.

It was late, and there was no way that he could even be willing to talk with her about just anything. As she put on her shorts and her camisole, she never lifted her gaze from the narrow little strip of a screen on the face of the lid facing her. She peered over her shoulder to the hallway behind her, and she spotted the golden glow of the bathroom light across the way.

Valentina would tell her to go for it. Nelly would tell her to do it as well. Chuck and Eric were unknowns to her, however. She had no memory of the last time she had a late-night conversation with someone, and thus, the thought seemed crazy to her. But she picked up the phone and tucked it into her back pocket.

She returned to the living room and right as Chuck lay down on the couch with Eric down on the floor. Valentina surfaced from the bathroom, changed into her pajamas, right when her phone rang.

“I’ll get that,” she assured the three of them. “You guys can turn off the light and sleep tight for me—don’t worry about what happens to me.” She then looked on at the little sliver of a screen on the back of the phone itself. Alex’s number appeared, and her heart skipped a few beats. It was as if fate had known all along and it nudged her towards him.

Christine ducked into the safety of her bedroom and closed the door. She cocked her hip out to the side a bit as if flirting with him despite his absence, and she opened the phone. She licked her lips, and she wished that she had some cherry lip gloss right then.

“Hello, my dear Christine,” his voice crackled on the other end; he sounded exhausted, as if he had done so much over the course of the day.

“Hi,” she greeted him, and she couldn’t resist the smile on her face. “Never thought I would be hearing you ring me up at such a late hour.”

“I’m just kind of… bored right now,” he confessed with a slight cracking noise on his end. “I’m alone here at my place and I’ve got no one to talk to, either.” She moved her fingers underneath her top to feel the softness of her skin: his voice was gentle and husky, as if he breathed the words right into her ear. She pictured him laying there next to her with his shirt lifted up to show off his skin to her, and his hair spread out from the sides of his head. His hooded eyes and parted full lips, and she couldn’t resist the touch of her own fingers. “What’s going on? Is this a bad time?”

“Well, the gang just went off to bed and I don’t feel like sleeping, so… let us have a little fun after dark,” she suggested with a clearing of her throat. She turned behind her to the door right as the living room light switched off and the apartment engulfed in darkness. The gang had gone off to bed after all.

Christine kept the phone close to her ear as she took her spot on the edge of the bed; she leaned back towards the pillow and the wall, and all the while, she kept her legs open. She was alone in the room with nothing more than the phone up to her ear: the boys were quiet, and Valentina seemed to have had fallen asleep with haste as well.

“A little fun of sorts… you know I am always down for that sort of thing without any kind of strings attached. And more so with it being so late at night as well.”

She pictured that little smirk on his face as he said that. It was almost unfair that he was all the way over there and she had no way of heading out of her place to visit him, at least not without a lot of questions from Chuck and Eric.

“I think it was last night when I started thinking about getting together with you again,” he started. “Thinking about treating you to something special. A few glasses of wine and I could potentially put my hand up your top.”

“Hey, now, you don’t get to touch my chest until I say so, big boy,” she teased him.

“You say ‘big boy’ as if you have your hand on me,” he retorted.

“I wish I did have my hand on you right now,” she confessed with one hand down in between her legs. Her fingers crept over the crotch of her shorts as if she was tempting herself.

“Christine… I wanna take you to Coney Island tomorrow,” he said with another clearing of his throat. “I wanna take you there and then take you to your dad’s place. I want you to go and visit him while it’s nice and sunny tomorrow. You know, not like last time.”

“There was something so romantic about all that rain, though,” she recalled. “You and me getting all wet like that. You were so wet…” Her voice trailed off.

“We stand in a sweet shower of the sunshine,” he suggested. “And you know, right as I say that, I just wish I was with you and Eric out in California.”

“I wish you were, too,” she confessed. “I remember thinking about how you would have loved it out there.”

“I do love it out there,” he said with a clearing of his throat. “I mean, I love New York, but California has always treated me well. Did you guys go to Santa Cruz?”

“We thought about it, but Eric saw it was too expensive,” she recalled. “He promised me next time, though.”

“And next time, I want in on the fun,” he insisted. “I don’t know as to how I’m going to pay for it but I promise you that when there’s a will, there’s a way. There is always a way with me.”

“Always a way to go out and feel all of the things in your heart,” she told him.

“All of the things in my heart and…” He cleared his throat. “…somewhere else.” He almost breathed the words, such that a wave of warmth swept over her, and she thought about undoing her shorts just to feel herself. She resisted the urge given she didn’t know how the three of them in the next room were sleeping on such a short notice.

“So… go to Coney Island and lay down in the sand at one point?” she suggested.

“Lay down in the sand and feel the ocean on our faces,” he continued. “Feel the sweetest caress of the ocean on our faces as I kiss you with the feeling of a thousand butterflies in my stomach.”

“Where is all of this coming from?” she asked him in a hushed voice.

“It’s late. I’m drinking a small glass of wine right now, too.”

“You’re drinking?” She raised her eyebrows at that.

“Not a lot. It’s enough to loosen my bullets a bit. It’s like taking off my belt and letting my pants hang off my hips a little bit.”

“Ooh, you just put a really sexy image in my head,” she confessed. “Your pants hanging off your hips and letting your little belly out loose for me.”

“You tempt me, Christine Sixteen,” he breathed. “You tempt me the way the devil would tempt me with an apple. You gave me an idea of sorts.”

“You wanna do that for me when we get together tomorrow?” she asked him with a little smile on her face.

“Maybe not tomorrow,” he said, and he hesitated for a moment, and she realized that he was in fact drinking from a glass of wine. “But I do wanna do that for you, though.”

The wave of warmth continued to sink over her as she relished the full, husky timbre of his voice.

She began to wonder as to how much he was willing to do for her.

“I’m gonna put on one of my button-up shirts and I’m going to let my chest hang out in the open,” he told her. “I know how much you love seeing my chest.”

“Would you wear that white shirt?” she asked him.

“That one silk shirt that I have? It might be a little bit tight but I’d love to wear that for you, though.”

“I’ll wear that pearl necklace you gave me,” she said. “I haven’t been able to wear it much because I have to admit that it gets pretty hot this time of year. I wore it out to California, though. A lot of people told me it looked really cute on me. And now, I can come and be with you, and I’ll wear it and… let it shimmer in the summer sun.”

He made a sound that made her think of laying in bed next to him after a night together.

“I wish I was there with you,” he confessed. “There and… laying in your bed next to you.”

“And I wish you were here with me, too,” she said, and she let her fingers dangle down over her crotch again. “I could cuddle up next to you and hold you. I could have my hands down the shape of your body to feel how gorgeous you are.”

“And I could have my hands on the shape of your body, too,” he added. “I don’t know if it’s the wine talking or the fact that it’s late at night, but I really, really want to touch and feel you.”

Christine curled her fingers once again. That time, she undid the button of her shorts and let her hand glide down under the thin veil of fabric. Because her legs were wide open, she was able to let her fingers creep down over that delicate skin. The feeling rose up almost immediately, and she slithered her fingers in under her hood.

“I want to kiss you,” she whispered to him. “I want to kiss you and love every inch of you. I want to give you everything that she could never give to you.”

“Phew…” he breathed. “Mmm. Oh, my dearest Christine, I hate to tell you this but I’m starting to nod off. But… you know. Thinking about all of that and I’m gonna go to sleep feeling really sexy. I want you to go to bed feeling that way, too.”

“I have my hand down my shorts,” she confessed with a lick of her lips.

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I—I can’t stop thinking about very slow lovemaking with you,” she confessed.

“Oh, my. Very slow, you say?”

“Low and slow. We don’t just feel each other but we feel each other and come so close to one another that we become one another.”

“Wow…” Alex breathed out. “Should I light some candles as well?”

“Please—” Christine gasped as she gave herself a little climax. “Light some candles and then flirt around with the hot wax. You did say I tempt you like the devil, after all.”

“Man, you’re good,” he remarked with a yawn. “God, I can barely keep my eyes open. Wanna do more at Coney Island tomorrow?”

“Please,” she said as she slipped her hand out from under her shorts. “Alex?”

“Hm?”

She pursed her lips and swallowed, her face still warm from the feeling.

“I love you,” she whispered to him.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back to her. “You are the love of my life. I want you to go to sleep and I want you to wake up with the sun.”

“I want the same for you,” she whispered to him. “Good night, baby.”

“Good night, my sweet,” he once again nearly breathed the words, and he hung up right then. Christine followed suit, and she sighed through her nose. She set her phone down on the desk again, and she switched off the light as well. She rolled over onto her side with the bedsheet over her body and the gentle sounds of Chuck and Eric snoring in the next room acting as an impending wall of white noise.

“Please let me feel him again,” she whispered to herself as she closed her eyes. She kept that on her mind even as she drifted off to sleep.

#as the seasons grey #as the seasons grey fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #dark roots of earth #dark roots of earth fanfic #fanfic with art #oc art #alex skolnick #drawings #testament #testament band #traditonal art #traditional drawing #artists on tumblr #badgalnirvhannahart

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tripthelightfandomtastic · 2 years

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ok but imagine getting a cute lil butt plug and it has like a gem on the end of it or something and you put it to surprise danny. walking around in a short sundress all day with no panties and you purposely drop something so you can bend over and lowkey flash it to him and he sees it and just goes absolutely feral

Hell yeah.

You and Danny had been playing around with anal play and you were absolutely inconsolable with the way you needed it more and more. The need to have Danny fill you up like that was something like you had never experienced before. You needed him and you needed him bad. You stopped in to the sex toy shop the other day after work and were so excited for this opportunity and it was finally here.

A lazy Sunday afternoon, you and Danny were talking about maybe going out to dinner that night, but as you were in the shower you couldn't help but feel the need for the new plug you just got. It was rounded, silver and smaller than Danny’s girth but it was enough for now, and it was cute. A pretty pink heart shaped crystal on the end where it would be flushed against your ass. Something about feeling the silver plug press up and nestle inside of you made you feel like a princess. So pretty and in need of your prince charming to make love to you.

So instead of fucking yourself with it, you decided how fun of a surprise it would be to show Danny. You stand at your closet, the plug feels so good inside of you when you walk you can hardly stand not to touch yourself, but you resist, knowing the reward would be better than anything you could do alone.

You skim through your closet and slip on a sweet little sundress and forego any panties or bra, opting to make this innocent dress almost a playful prop for your sexy gift to Danny. You shuffle down the hallway, every step makes the butterflies in your stomach flap their wings even harder as you move. Finally you reach the kitchen where Danny is sitting at the bar, reading something on his phone intently.

"Watcha doing?" You ask sweetly, Danny perks up, "Oh just texting Sam." He replies, you walk over to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek, "You want something to drink?" You say as you walk away and into the kitchen, "A lemonade would be nice." Danny looks back at his phone, hmm this is gonna be trickier than you thought. You turn to the fridge, playing with the end of your sundress, messing with the fabric between your fingers, you let out a frustrated hum as you try and muffle the way the plug feels, tucked away inside of you. You reach for the lemonade pitcher and close the fridge, grabbing a glass for Danny, you turn to look over your shoulder and he's looking at his phone again.

You smile as you pour the pitcher into the glass, not stopping as you reach a full glass, the lemonade trickles down the glass and to the floor, "Oh shoot!" You say as you set the glass down, Danny looks up as you go to grab a kitchen rag to clean up. "Silly me." You say as you go down to your knees, facing away from Danny, your dress coming down your back as you arch your back, you bare ass on perfect display, pink gem on display and all.

Danny's mouth falls open as he takes in the absolute beauty of this moment in front of him. You add a little wiggle of your hips as you scrub the tile floor, "I'm such a clutz!" You add, only playing your part more. You hear Danny leave his barstool and stand behind you, you turn to look at him, his soft lips are parted and his eyes look transfixed on you. "Fuck sake." He whispers under his breath, you make eye contact with Danny, "Something wrong baby?" You ask naively, "I think I'll have something a little sweeter than lemonade."

#holy hell this was long #fuck heres a whole fic #wild tuesday #wild wednesday #gvf #greta van fleet #jake kiszka #josh kiszka #jake gvf #sam kiszka #danny wagner #josh gvf #danny gvf #sam gvf #danny wagner smut

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fala-alfredo-pasta · 7 months

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Just a ship ask: How good of a parents do you Mikan and Kazuichi would be after they get together and how they spend time together with their kids? (and also with each other years after hope's peak)

I don’t know if it’s from the same person or not, but I’ve been getting lots of Mikan and Kaz asks/requests, and I like to believe that maybe these two are secretly popular lol. The hole in the wall type of ship. In any case—good question! I have no clue how these two would be as parents to be honest. My guess is that Mikan would absolutely do her very best and would actually very much enjoy being a mother considering how she wants and likes being depended on and well kids are very much dependent on their guardians for a big chunk of their life. She might be fussy and a little overprotective of their kid getting hurt or sick and will most definitely always have bandages and pain meds on hand. But Mikan will also be a very patient and kind mom who would try to be as attuned to their child’s needs and emotions as much as possible (she’s’ gotten a lot of practice with patients after all).

Kazuichi is a bit trickier for me to get a read on but if I had to take a shot, I’d say he too would try his best though would probably be a lot more confused about parenting and what it entails than Mikan would. Kaz means well but he does get overwhelmed somewhat easily in stressful situations (though Mikan does too so I can only imagine they’d both go straight into panic mode if they even remotely lose sight of their kiddo for a short amount of time lol). Unlike Mikan, Kaz isn’t exactly gung-ho when it comes to helping others unless it’s about something he knows (like machines but kids don’t usually have hardware/mechanical issues that need solving). He can fix a bike tire fast but will probably be anxious or confused on how to respond to the more emotional aspects of parenting like properly comforting his kiddo (given how his father was, I don’t think Kaz got much hugs or soothing words growing up but probably more of a “walk it off buddy” type of upbringing). Nonetheless, he’ll learn and will also show his love through his own means like making toys for their kid as a way to connect. In all, Mikan and Kazuichi will make their mistakes as all parents do but they’ll be just fine.

#anonymous #danganronpa #mikan tsumiki #kazuichi souda #soumiki #Gotta get some time to draw some of the requests #fala replies #a e i o queue

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thepariahcontinuum · 2 years

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i have another idea for a cape

a cluster featuring the abilities

the entire or parts of the body into liquid gold that they can control think phosphophyllites arms in land of the lustrous

a cape who can make people feel either more intensely or less intensely towards themelves

a cape with the ability to compress air into dense spheres and then detonate those spheres whenever they want

these are the main abilities in the cluster

also is this too late for that?

My apologies for letting this rust on my inbox all day, however it is absolutely not too late to ask.

Okay so even without meaning to I've ended up considering how these different characters I'm coming up with would fit into an OC Worm story together and I did notice that the Protectorate branch was a little short handed.... Which actually works for what I've got in mind.

This is a trio of cluster capes who are unabashedly and unequivocally heroes, they're a polycule and are firmly on the kiss end of the Kiss/Kill scenario. The only possible worry that any of them can have is the niggling question of "How much of this is real and how much is the powers and mental bleed". Also there is an undeniable level of codependency, it's manageable but these three are definitely their own team within their team and trying to split them up is never advised.

Their trigger event would naturally have to be shared trauma....I was thinking that these three were all colleagues somewhere which was struck by a natural disaster, they were stuck for days and were the only thing that pulled each other through.

Being a cluster there's some sort of mechanism for sharing powers out but each of them has their primary power....also, individual personality is a little trickier to work out given the nature of clusters; so.

Liquid gold/metal body: This guy getting injured was the catalyst for the cluster's Trigger and the liquid body was a response to help him rip his way free of whatever collapsed onto him and reform the crushed limb. Cape name "Halcyon"...there isn't a Halcyon in Worm/Ward right? I googled it and nothing came up.

Emotional manipulator/modifier: The heart and soul of this Cluster, she was the one to keep the other two same and the one to convince Halcyon that they weren't going to leave him when he was trapped, even when the water ran out. Cape name "Hopeful"

Compressed air detonator: The rough and ready one of the trio, she was the one to rip the way out of wherever they were stranded....For some reason I'm really liking a hair/glam metal aesthetic for her costume. Cape name "H-Bomb"....yeah this one's not great but after the first two I wanted another H and something with Hurricane or Headwind didn't really fit, just imagine her trying to get this name through legal and PR.

#worm web serial #Wildbow #Parahumans #Worm OC #TheSternest

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ironic-still-iconic · 1 year

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this book came with no tears, but had it not been for vonneguts whitty writing style, dark humor, and wild ass imagination it would’ve been a tale to cry over. lol, anywho, i finished it on like what, the 19th? idk.

i’ll start by saying, i’ve been wanting to read vonnegut for a while but had other books to read, whatever the excuse - towards the end of 2022 i bought vonnys book, while mortals sleep & it consisted of a bunch of his story stories… this was published post his death, so i read that book, one chapter/story a day & it was perfect bc it was finals week & it was just a taste.. but then it became the problem i had a peek into his mind & i wanted moooore! so i went to the library & used my snazzy new library card & checked out slaughterhouse five & wow.

so let’s dive in, *spoiler warning? probably*

this post may or may not be chronological, but i’ll do my very best..

& this is just a side note, but basically the first & last chapter (at least i thought, def the first idk last) was kurt himself talking to the reader, because it notes on ahh i always said i’d get around to writing an anti war book blah blah blah & i was never quite sure who tf was talking hahah it wasn’t until i read the last chapter that i was like omg wait, so i went back and reread the FIRST chapter and was like WAIT OMG OKAY it’s written on an entirely different plane than the rest of the novel, this is obvious… but i believe it might’ve been a tad autobiographical for ol vonnegut, but basically this first chapter tells us a few things, some war stories that were true(from the novel), like a guy he knew that was killed bc of a tea cup along with other tails. he then goes in to tell us exactly how this book will begin & exactly how it will end, he said

it stars like this: billy pilgrim became unstuck in time

it ends like this: poo-tee-weet

i thought nothing of this at first… when i went back and reread the first chapter i was overcome with the chillies bc it was all clear… but we are taken all over the place on this timeline hop of billy’s life.. this said “unstuck” billy finds himself in is him hopping between different periods of his life & he has no control over what period he finds himself in, because of this the novel is constructed in quite a chaotic way, short bits, some only being a paragraph or so that are dedicated to that memory from that period of life.

it’s hard for me to even gather the thoughts for all the places we know and see billy in - we see him in tralfamadore (where he was captive with that Montana gal) he’s at his wedding day, he’s being held captive during WW2, he’s in dresden, he’s in other parts of the war, he’s a kid, he’s going to optometrist school, he’s married, he has kids, he argues with the kids, he’s in a plane crash, his wife dies, it’s just ON AND ON - you’d think it would be trickier to follow along with, but it really wasn’t, maybe at first hehe.

a few things i want to note on & this is out of order bc it’s the smack last chapter & i can’t wait to get this all out, but basically, a few things you need to know from WW2, there was this guy enlisted that was way older, he was a school teacher.. every once and a while billy tells us that edgar derby dies, tragically being put on firing squad or whatever… come to find out it was him who (after the war) decided to keep this tea pot as a souvenir - they killed him. IT WAS HIM. the whole time we knew he died.. the whole time we knew a dude was killed over a tea pot, but HIM!? was not ready for that 😭😭

another wild little addition is how pilgrim dies… and it’s wild bc he knew it was his time so backtrack to the war, billy got shipped out with nothing, no weapon, no jacket, no damn shoes.. he got picked up & hauled along by 3 guys “the 3 musketeers” ol Weary called them, weary was the leader… the other two ditch them bc weary would never leave billy to die (god bless him) & the other two left or died or something - then weary and billy & all else were taken prisoner… on the cart ride, weary died & told everyone in his box that it was billy pilgrim to blame… lil ol Lazzaro italian, nothing but bones, swore he’d seek out revenge for weary… & the day came? as billy predicted & billy did not fear it, he accepted it & waited for the purple hummm - the assassin bullet the promise of over a 30y/o threat comes true… but as i mentioned billy knew this, he’d seen it all before, just like every other moment of his earthly life.. i believe that in that moment, billy gained the dignity he lacked throughout the whole novel.

“so it goes”

, one other thing i want to talk about. vonnegut used this phrase over 100 times in the book (i googled that & don’t remember the exact tehe) it was used after each death, after each moment of morality, oofta.

um, yeah… idk what all else to sum up… the book was so so good, wow, i would highly recommend ^_^ everything came so full circle & i never saw it coming. def heavy at times & had to put the book down once n a while to breath & process.

2/24

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munsontm · 2 years

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“ you look so sexy dressed up like that. “ — do i even have to say it

@harringtontm

When the build-up to Halloween rolled around, Eddie would start prepping his costume for the night at least two months in advance. He needed to draft the design, consider materials, buy the materials, and play around with the materials a bit before he began putting everything together. Most of the time, he went with something to shock and scare, or at least exceptionally well put together that people were in awe of his achievement and dedication to the one holiday worth giving a damn about. Okay, yeah, he liked Christmas too, but no one needed to know that or about his ugly Scream Christmas sweater either.

The costume he chose this year was a little niche, perhaps. It wasn’t based on any kind of media, just his demented wandering mind, and he meant for it to only shock and torment one person in particular rather than his entire circle of friends and associates. His boyfriend, Steve Harrington. The poor guy had no clue about what was in store for him. Eddie managed to keep his lips sealed about what he intended to dress up as for Halloween, convincing Steve to not pick a costume of his own like he usually did. All his man needed to do was show up at his place at 7PM on the 31st ready for Eddie to have his creative way with him. It didn’t take much convincing, a flash of Bambi's eyes, teeth digging into his bottom lip with a silent plead. Steve went down quicker than Eddie after a night of tequila. He loved that about Steve. Not that he was so easy. Fine, maybe a little bit. But that he was willing to go along with his crazy plans in the first place, all with a smile on his dreadfully handsome face. Really, the outfit was a gift for him, sort of. He’d just have to wait most of the night to get into it.

On Saturday the 31st of October at 6:55PM, Eddie tested the black garter strap, snapping it against his thigh with a pleased hum where it was hooked up to a long black sock studded with silver along the rims. Beneath the socks, he wore a pair of black fishnet tights that looked pretty damn good against the white of his thighs. Shaving his legs had been a pain, and he kinda regretted it, so he left the pits. The trail stayed because Steve had a thing about it, and it looked good peeking out over the rim of his black mini-skirt adorned with a couple of chains. If Eddie possessed a shred of shame, he’d be concerned that the hem didn’t make it far past the tops of his thighs, but he didn’t, so he didn’t care. If anything, the shortness made the skirt appeal to him more. He’d always been attracted to women in short skirts and dresses, women who wore what they wanted and didn’t give a fuck about what anyone else thought. It was hot (plus, it was easier to eat them out---among other things). He aspired to be one of them just for the night. The top half of his outfit had been trickier than the bottom. His fishnet undershirt didn’t want to cooperate, and he had to safely pin it into his panties. So, if he needed to pee at any point, which he would because they were going to a Halloween party where the buffet was alcohol, he’d have to push the panties aside awkwardly. But that was okay; making the look appear seamless was worth it. The overtop had been in his wardrobe since he was a teenager. Eddie outgrew it years ago, which made it perfect for cutting down into a long-sleeved crop top, the Black Sabbath logo emblazoned across his chest tightly, but not so tight that it didn’t look good. It was a snug fit. Perfect. To top everything off. Eddie had tried a couple of times to wear heels and almost took out his eye when tumbling over in them for the seventh time. Those were a total no-go. He settled for some flat black combat boots instead and thought they looked cute when he twirled in front of the full-length mirror. Then he cackled privately, imagining the range of expressions that might appear on his boyfriend’s face when he saw it. Either way, it was going to be a look to remember. “Oh, Eddie. You devil, you.” He spoke to the mirror image, grinning savagely.

It was a no-brainer to wear his hair up in a high ponytail. Like, how much more girly could you get apart from pigtails? And pigtails weren’t sexy in the slightest. He’d gotten a couple of hair extensions to make his hair look longer while up and pulled some longer curls at the front, so they framed his face pleasantly beside his usual bangs. Everything was topped off with the eyeliner Eddie always wore. Still, he’d added some new things just for the holiday, just for Steve, some mascara, a bit of eyeshadow, not too much because he didn’t want freaking panda eyes, and a lip gloss with an alluring red tint topped off with a spritz of some girly perfume; It smelled vanillery. Honestly, Eddie thought he was kind of a knockout as a chick. The panties weren’t the epitome of comfort, but he could deal with that.

Dark eyes looked over his masterpiece appreciatively one last time before the fated knock at his front door rang throughout the small apartment. Eddie took a deep breath and made his way to let Steve in. He wasn’t nervous about whether his boyfriend would like it; he knew Steve would be into it. But he wanted him to enjoy the outfit, too, not just for the sexual implications or the amount of skin on show. It was months of work, after all.

When he opened the door greeted by a sight that never failed to make his heart thunder like Thor’s hammer. He leaned against it, twirling a piece of hair around his finger, speaking with a sweet and feminine voice. “Hi, Stevie.” Nope. Nope. He hated that immediately and burst into laughter. “Shit, that was terrible, babe; Lemme try again?” Eddie slammed his front door, though not before catching the look of desire in Steve’s eyes. “Hook, line and sinker, baby,” he mumbled giddily before opening the door again, his side pressed to the wall instead. “Hey, big boy---fuck.” The decorated eyes rolled, and Eddie crossed his arms over his chest. “I sound awful as a girl, right?” He huffed, receiving no answer from Steve, who had taken to staring at him from head to toe, embracing every tiny detail he could. It had a better effect than Eddie maybe expected. He intended to run full speed with it for as long as possible.

“C’mon, gorgeous. Get that dump truck in here and into your costume.” With a devilish smirk in place. He reached for Steve’s hand and pulled him into the apartment, shutting the door behind them. The hazel eyes followed him down the hallway. Eddie could feel them all over him as he tugged Steve along, objectifying him, and he found that he liked every second of it. When they reached his bedroom, Steve’s hand wriggled out of his, and both fell on Eddie’s hips to bring him closer until they were pressed together. “Steve…” He warned, the words falling on deaf ears when Steve started to kiss his neck, inhaling his perfume with a moan. The kisses trailed up to his ear, where Steve whispered how sexy he looked, how cute his outfit was (that made him beam), and how bad he wanted him there and then. Already, Eddie could hear the plead in his voice, feel it pressed to the swell of his rear and rapidly thickening out. It took all of his will to say no when one of Steve’s hands ran up the smooth planes of his flat stomach, under the top, squeezing a perky nipple hard, just how Eddie liked it. “Jesus, Steve.” He laughed, sliding out of the other man’s hands with red cheeks, leaving him looking like a kicked puppy. “Sorry, babe. You’re not allowed to ruin this,” he gestured to himself. “Until after the party.”

The kicked puppy expression soon melted into an ‘are you kidding me?’ protest. Steve looked positively mortified, and Eddie was back in control. “Fraid not. No sexy time.” He left his boyfriend with a cheek peck, trying not to smile at the agape mouth. But as he crossed the room to grab Steve’s very metalesque rock star outfit, something caught his gaze, something he’d forgotten about. His deviant little brain couldn’t resist. Eddie scooped the black leather collar adorned with a heart-shaped lock in his hand and gestured Steve over to the bed. It was way too endearing the amount of speed that man moved to the bed and started undoing his jeans when he thought Eddie had changed his mind and he was about to get laid.

Sighing lovingly, doe brown eyes full of fondness, he yanked Steve to the edge of the bed by his half-disposed jeans, desperately trying to ignore how hard Steve was beneath his underwear. He slid into the familiar lap, smiling, trying not to put too much pressure on the dick below him, and placed the leather collar in his boyfriend’s hand. “I just wanted you to put this on for me, sweetheart.” The reveal earned him a groan while Steve’s free hand roamed under Eddie’s skirt, soothing over a hip. He felt a bit sorry for him then and kissed him as an apology and a greeting. They’d forgotten at the front door with all the excitement. “I promise the wait will be worth it.” He said when their kiss ended, faces inches apart. God, he loved this horny fool of a man so much. Steve probably thought he wasn’t as affected by the situation. But, his willpower had weakened considerably more than he thought it might. He was terrible at denying Steve whatever he wanted and vice-versa. The sheer determination to control the night for as long as possible was all that stopped him from letting the other have his way. All that needed to happen for him to potentially lose that control would be for Steve to initiate a power struggle. The winner only won based on who crumbled first before all the teasing, which, with them, was always a fifty-fifty chance. More often than not, they were equals in the bedroom, but special occasions called for the game to be upped a little bit.

Black painted fingertips rested briefly over the collar, their gazes locking on to the action where Eddie’s smile turned into the devil's again. “And what if I told you the collar has a chain too, hmm?”

‘Goddamnit,’ Came the grumbled in response, and Steve took up the collar to fix around Eddie’s neck while he chimed in what a good boy Steve was being.

‘Eddie!’ And his praises quickly fell into laughter. It was gonna be a great night.

#ship. whenever i’m alone with you; you make me feel like i am whole again (harringtontm) 🎸#𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐓: 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.#this is more or less 2k #it's actually not too naughty at all #more implications #v. modern.

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atozfic · 3 years

Text

lessons in law.

⎘ pairing: fem!reader x choi san.

⎘ genre: dilf!san, lawyer!san, tutor!san, law-student!reader, smut, all parties are of legal age!!

⎘ warnings: dom!san, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, hair pulling, light name calling, mentions of punishment, san is a simp in denial.

⎘ description: sometimes, there’s nothing wrong with an oral exam.

⎘ word count: 1.6k

⎘ author’s note: this was supposed to be a less-than-500-words timestamp. 🧍‍♂️

⎘ taglist: @yunhobabygurl, @eonghwa, @iusrene, @nari-nim, @couchpotatoaniki, @vanishingboots, @yoheyyosup, @spacepiratehongjoong, @rainteez02 unable to tag: @harry-the-pottypus

masterlist.

navigation.

“for a d-defamation lawsuit to turn out success- fuck!” from the moment your resolve slips, you regret it, almost going as far as to complain verbally, if you didn’t already know better.

talking back will only get you punished, and not in the way of whips and chains and all things spice, but in the way of being left high and dry, pussy wet and unfilled.

cold air brushes up against your sensitive folds as the man beneath your desk pulls away from your sopping core. you glance down in time to catch the way he swipes his tongue over his lips, collecting the juices you’ve covered him in, in as little as the three minutes he’s been down there.

he’s looking at you with one eyebrow raised, expectantly, awaiting you to correct the error of your ways.

“did i tell you to stop reading, princess?” his voice, the way the gruff in it curls over his words and his beautiful lips move as he speaks, sends a fresh rush of arousal down your nerves.

“no, mr. choi.”

“and what did you do?”

“stop-” you start, only to do the very thing you said when you jolt in your seat, moments after he’d blown air onto your pulsating heat, torturing you with the minimum amount of pressure against your clit. it takes a deep, calming breath on your end to centre yourself again. “i stopped reading.”

“tsk.” his response worries you. so vague, you’re yet to figure out if he’s going to even bother continuing with the pleasure he was giving you. as if sensing your unsure nature, the drag of his pointer finger over your soaked entrance becomes his answer to the unasked question. “how am i supposed to know you’re studying the notes i gave you if you do that, hmm? do it again and we’ll have to cut the tutoring lesson short today.”

he could have whispered the words and you still would have heard him loud and clear. your eyes reluctantly snap back to the textbook instead of staring down at the sight of him between your legs, hair perfectly slicked back and begging to be messed up, tie undone and hanging from his neck, shirt sleeves rolled up his arms and straining against the muscles of his forearms.

“the act of defamation occurs when someone makes a false and harmful statement...” you begin reciting the words again, after you’d cleared your throat.

as san’s face lowers back onto your aching cunt, you remind yourself over and over to read, just read. that’s all he wants you to do and, in exchange, he’ll take you to heaven with his tongue. but oh, it is so much easier said than done. your hands soon find a grip on the edge of the desk, a place to root yourself down while his tongue drags over you lazily.

“there’s two different types of defamation-” his tongue teases at your hole and you want to beg him, scream at him to shove it- or any other part of him- into your cunt, walls clenching around nothing but your own wetness, causing it to ooze out onto your tutor’s waiting tongue. “libel is the name given to any defamatory words that are written...”

“my princess has the prettiest pussy.” a hand snakes it’s way up your leg, wrapping a tight grip around your thigh before he props it onto his shoulder. when his tongue finally breeches your walls again, it’s at a whole new angle than earlier, and that alone has you wishing you could throw the textbook off your desk only for you to bend over it while mr. choi takes you from behind.

“slander is spoken defamation, and often more trickier to prove in court...” instead, you keep reading so that he’ll keep eating.

“what would your dad say if he knew this is what you use our tutoring sessions for, huh?” san continues to taunt you between licks of your cunt, switching his focus between your hole and your clit. he’s trying to get you to disobey him. “if he knew his dear friend who he asked to help his pretty little daughter get accepted into his law firm has actually been teaching her how to take a proper cock? oh, and just imagine his face if he knew that i fucked you under his very own roof.”

“d- defamation cases are often costly and are a long procedure...” you can’t help it when, instinctually, your hand flies down to tangle itself in his perfectly done hair. instead of pushing you away like you’d thought he would have, san only closes his eyes and let’s out a moan as you tug his hair, face nestling itself deeper between your legs and causing his nose to bump against your clit.

“you have no idea how much i think about you, baby.” his free hand lands on your heat, cupping it as he pulls back to stare up at you. “got me wishing i could have you every hour of the day. that you were mine alone to touch, and fuck, and kiss.”

“w-what would-” you become brave suddenly, spurred on by the moment of vulnerability from the man between your legs, looking so much more at your mercy than ever before, like he’s begging to worship the only goddess he’ll ever know. “your son, or your ex-wife, say if they knew you were doing this, hmm? that you took on an apprentice only to corrupt her?”

“you were corrupted long before i got my hands on you, y/n.” he smirks up at you, only to chuckle when he thrusts a finger into your cunt, no warning, and you gasp, tugging on his hair again. “the only thing i’ve done is show you how good sex can be when you’re doing it with someone experienced instead of some sweaty frat-boy who finishes in two minutes and doesn’t even know where your clit is.”

“you’d be surprised, some of them are better than you give them credit.” you’re lying, without an ounce of shame about it. and it’s more than worth it to see the way his eyes darken, his eyebrows frown, his hand picks up the speed that his finger thrusts into you.

no warning comes when he inserts a second finger.

“really? can they make you beg for their cock like a bitch in heat?” he doesn’t bother to stall any longer, head diving back down between your legs to shut you up.

his mouth latches onto your clit, rolling it between his lips and prodding at it with his tongue while he continues to fuck you with his hand. a third finger enters you and you throw your head back, body curling off the leather of your desk chair while you tighten your grip on san’s hair.

“mr. choi, please.” you’re not even sure what you’re begging for.

“yeah, just like that. a little slut begging to be fucked full, that’s all you are, right? and no one knows how to give you what you want but me.” every whine, moan of your voice, every time your walls tighten around his digits, it strokes his ego and keeps him giving you more, more, more.

when the coil in your body is so close to finally snapping, he rips his hand from you. it’s a moment of devastation only, until you feel his hand, soaked in you, clasping around your other thigh and dragging it over his shoulder too. then his tongue is back in you, drinking in every bit of essence your quivering hole offers him.

when you cum, it’s with your body more sat on him than the actual chair, hands on your ass and holding you against his face as his tongue continues to work you through the electrifying feeling, nose bumping over your clit every so often. while your jaw is slacked open in a silent scream, san makes no attempt to hold back the moans and grunts ripping through his chest.

“shh, shh, i’ve got you.” he coos when he rises from under your desk, lowering your still quivering body back down onto your chair. you have half the mind to wonder if he’s a completely different man to the one who’d been buried between your thighs minutes ago, as he brings up a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. instead of a smirk or a scowl, he wears a smile, even when you feel his fingers dip back between your swollen folds.

“mr. choi, i need a break first-”

“shh, it’s okay.” and you believe him, as he retracts his hand and brings it up to your mouth, commanding you to open it. your eyes flutter shut as your mouth wraps around his fingers, tasting yourself all over them. “so pretty, aren’t you?”

you can only nod, so relieved he gave you what you wanted even though you’d stopped reading. you’re unsure how long he lets you sit there with his fingers in your mouth but him removing them brings you back into the room instantly. coating your cheek in your own spit-mixed cum as he cups it, he leans down to place a kiss on your neck.

“i need to go make a quick call but, when i come back, i expect you to be naked on your bed, ass up and face down.” this time it really is nothing but a whisper, yet you hear him loud and clear.

“why?” it seems like a silly questions to ask, when you already know exactly why he wants you in that position.

“you didn’t think i was really going to let you get away with talking back to me, did you?”

#ateez smut #choi san smut #ksmutclub #cs.writings #ateez.writings #smut.writings #atozfic.writings

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olreid · 3 years

Note

hey ej, i've been devouring all of your literary posts, they really make me super excited about books and storytelling and they make me want to read more lit analysis.

however, i never had any kind of """serious""" lit education; the college i went to was really pretty awful in that department. i've taught myself a little over the last few years, but not having that foundation makes things a struggle sometimes (for reference, i had to look up "ontological" and "diatectic" yesterday).

do you have any recommendations for articles to read? any foundational lit analysis texts you like(d)?

hello sweet friend ! i will tell you a secret: i have never had a ~serious lit education either ! my academic background is in sociology and social theory, not english, and whatever skill i have at lit analysis comes from reading i've done on my own, people i've learned from online, and the influence of irl friends who study english and are willing to discuss different texts with me. i think you're doing it right - looking up things when they interest or confuse you ! but if you want i can rec a couple basics, a couple theory texts more specific to my areas of interest, and finally some works whose methods of close reading helped me get a better grasp on what it means to analyze text. let's dive in:

some lit theory basics:

narratology: introduction to the theory of narrative by mieke bal

the cambridge introduction to narrative, ed. h. porter abbott

marxism and form by fredric jameson

some lit theory that's less basic:

the madwoman in the attic: the woman writer and the nineteenth-century literary imagination by sanda m. gilbert and susan gubar

reading the romance: women, patriarchy, and popular literature by janice radway

some of my fave examples of books & essays that do close readings well:

ghostly matters by avery f. gordon - close reading of novels including beloved by toni morrison in order to develop a theory of haunting as social and historical phenomenon

cruel optimism by lauren berlant - close reading of poems and novels in order to elaborate a theory of 'cruel optimism,' or the attachment that we have to things which actively harm or hinder us. this one is definitely a trickier read but very good imo!!

the imperial archive by thomas richards - close reading of nineteenth century english novels (verne, wells, etc.) in order to excavate the ideologies animating nineteenth century british imperialism

mocked with death by emily wilson - close reading of some classic texts - oedipus, king lear, macbeth, paradise lost - in order to think about the function of death and/or the inability to die in tragedy

the world of wrestling by roland barthes - what it says on the tin ! super short read about wrestling that might help you think about what it looks like to apply close reading to events rather than texts

lana and lilly wachowski by cáel m. keegan - reading the wachowskis' films as trans films.. jupiter ascending my beloved

misc:

something else that i think helped me a lot especially when i was younger is podcasts that do close readings. two of my faves are harry potter and the sacred text and the tolkien professor, but i bet you could find one focused on any classic text you like and go from there !

i also often just search google scholar or other pdf websites for analysis of topics or texts i'm interested in at any given moment. my philosophy is def more 'read about what interests you' than it is 'read about the basics if they don't interest you' lol.

finally this is a call for any friends, foes, or mutuals who actually have a literature background to add your recs in replies or reblogs as this is def not my area of expertise <3

#asks #anon #rec center

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thexanwillshine · 3 years

Text

a;lskfjdk

Author: thexanwillshine (twitter, ao3) Pairings: Levi x Hange Cross-Postings: AO3 Notes: made for Day 2: Confessions of Levihan Week 2021

“But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Perhaps it’s the fact that it’s almost 5:30 in the morning. It could also be because he's tired from lack of sleep. Whatever the case, Levi Ackerman’s filter completely disappears when he asks, “Do you need a demonstration?”

Levi Ackerman can argue that every writer he’s met is always a little bit more eccentric than the average person, but no one proves his theory more than Hange Zoë.

Hange wakes him up in the middle of the night, voice screeching on the phone in her excitement. He responds groggily—as one does when their sleep is disturbed at an ungodly hour by an overly-excited author who acts as if they’ve just found out the answers to the universe—and tries to keep himself sober enough to understand what in the goddamn fuck Hange was talking about this time.

“Levaaiiii,” she says, drawling out his name in a manner that was both annoying and endearing, “I’ve figured it out!”

He can almost imagine the look on her face: starry-eyed in her joy, mouth stretched wide into a grin, fingers shaking as she bounces in glee, shifting her weight from the heels of her feet to the tips of her toes . . .

And Levi exhales in both relief and the tiniest hint of delight, because this is exactly how he wants Hange to be: happy .

Nevertheless, he replies “Figured what out?” snarkily.

Hange’s response comes out quickly, as if she needed to say everything that had to be said in the span of five seconds or less. “So you know how I’ve been trying to write a fiction novel because I wanted to get out of my comfort zone?”

Levi hums in acknowledgement as he fixes the covers over his legs before turning on his bedside lamp. He leans back on the bed frame and closes his eyes to listen to her ramble.

“So I was thinking, I wanted to write a romance novel, because you know how people fall in love and stuff?”

“No Hange, I’ve never heard of that concept in my entire life,” Levi says in a deadpan voice.

Hange laughs, because of course she would know that’s his pathetic attempt at lighthearted conversation. Levi is glad that she knows him better than most people, and it is this sense of familiarity that made him feel particularly comfortable when graced with her presence.

“Just because you’ve never fallen in love before doesn’t mean it’s not real, Levi!” Hange tells him in jest.

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“After all, you’ve probably never wanted to kiss someone your entire life!”

Wrong, Levi thinks.

“Sure, Hange.”

He rolls his eyes at her teasing, because yes, Levi has fallen in love—and maybe, just maybe, he’s still on the road to understanding what it meant to treasure someone far more than just a regular friend.

He shakes off such thoughts before maneuvering Hange back to the initial reason why she had called. “So, what did you want to tell me?”

“I finished,” she proclaims on the phone, her voice proud, “I finished writing the first ten chapters.”

Levi blinks in confusion before sitting straight up, the information processing in his mind that was still a bit drunk with sleep. “You what?” “I couldn’t stop writing,” Hange told him sheepishly, detecting the slightest hint of concern in her editor’s voice, “I’ve been writing for the past 24 or so hours. Maybe more.”

Levi grunts in annoyance, pulling the covers away from his body and jumping out of his unmade bed. He runs a hand through his dark locks, sighing. “Four-eyes, you need to get some sleep.”

“But Levi,” Hange says in protest, “I need you to read my draft. There are some parts I just don’t think are super natural.”

“And I was sleeping like a regular human being,” Levi retorted as he shrugged off his shorts. After that, he put on jeans that he had recently washed before patting down the shirt he was wearing in a pathetic attempt to get rid of the wrinkles that had accumulated while he tossed and turned in bed.

“Oh my gosh, Levi, I didn’t realize the time!” Hange replies, and he can almost feel her guilt starting to set in. “You should go back to sleep,” she immediately adds. “Take care of yourself!”

Levi slips on his rubber shoes and grabs his umbrella before answering. “Coming from you? Not that credible.”

Hange laughs light-heartedly, and his heart flutters just a tiny bit. Levi pushes the feeling away almost as quickly as it had come.

“Have you eaten?” he asks, almost dreading the reply.

There was none.

“Hange,” he calls, but there’s still no response. “Hange. Answer me,” he says firmly, prodding her on. “Have you eaten?”

The laughter that comes out from the other end is nervous. “Woops.”

Levi sighs. He opens his car door and slips inside smoothly, grabbing his keys from his pocket and starting the engine. “Hange, you’re supposed to eat.”

“Sorry,” she tells him honestly. “I really didn’t want to ruin my momentum. I can’t believe I forgot.” She mumbles her second sentence, sounding almost deep in thought. “I’ll go find food now! Want me to email you the working draft? You can look at it in the morning when you wake up.”

“No need,” Levi tells her, placing his phone on his dashboard and accelerating his car. “I’m on the way.”

“Levi!” Hange exclaimed excitedly as she heard her doorbell ring at around four in the morning.

She rushes to the door in delight, opening it to reveal Levi standing in front of her, a paper bag in his hand and a jacket half-heartedly slung over his shoulder.

“Hi,” he greets calmly, before walking inside and letting himself in.

Inwardly, Hange thanks whatever god is out there for her foresight. Her unit was relatively clean since she hadn’t really done anything since Levi’s last visit. The place seemed to pass Levi’s health protocols, since he sat on her couch and placed the paper bag on the table right across from him.

“Eat,” he tells her, crossing his arms over his chest.

Hange grins, before plopping down beside him and opening the paper bag. “What did you get me?”

“You’ll see.”

She raises an eyebrow at his ambiguity, before taking a glimpse inside the paper bag.

The smell of quesadillas immediately fills the room, and Hange lets out a soft squeal, taking out the food from the bag quickly.

“Oh my gosh,” Hange says as she nudges him on the shoulder. “You also got me onion rings! You know me too well, Levi.”

“Unfortunately,” Levi responds sarcastically, and Hange laughs almost automatically.

As Hange hums in glee, picking apart the paper wrapped around the food items, Levi maintains his silence. They stay like that as Hange eats. Every so often, she would comment about how the amount of cheese was perfect and how the onion rings just about melted in her mouth. Levi alternates between watching her eat and scrolls through his phone placidly.

Soon, he chooses to break the silence. “So where’s your draft?”

Hange is munching on her last piece of quesadilla when she glances in his direction. “Oh, it’s on my laptop! I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, this food was just so good.”

Levi stands up and heads on over to Hange’s room, gently pushing the door open and scanning the area for her laptop. On top of her unmade bed was a half open Macbook Pro, which he gently took before returning to his seat beside Hange.

Without hesitation, Levi opens the laptop and inputs the password. For some reason, Hange made it his birthday—1225—because she claimed that no one would guess such a random date. He is greeted with a blaring Google Docs document entitled “a;lskfjdk.”

“Nice title you got there,” he comments, and Hange chuckles.

“I didn’t want to think of a title yet, okay!” Hange pouts, and Levi nudges her foot gently in an attempt to comfort her from his own teasing.

He scans the document first before reading it. Hange is a good writer, but fiction is an entirely new genre for her. Immediately, he notices common habits from writing research papers leak into her new work: overexplaining, using words that are too formal for her target audience, sentences a little bit void from emotion.

He takes note of these comments on her notes app before going over her draft again, this time more meticulously than he had done previously. During this time, Hange finishes eating, wraps her trash and tosses them all inside the paper bag before standing up and dumping the entire thing inside her garbage bin.

“Levi,” she calls as she washes her hands through the sink faucet. Levi gives her the smallest hint that he’s listening by raising his eyebrow, but he doesn’t take his gaze away from her laptop. “I’m going to take a shower,” she announces, and he waves his hand dismissively.

Hange smiles to herself. Levi is always nagging her whenever she would accidentally hyperfixate on her writing, but he acts the same way when reading her works.

When Hange stepped inside the shower, Levi was already conducting a deep dive in her third chapter. The gears in his head slowly begin to turn as he begins to analyze her work.

The story revolved around the tales of the people who went to the clinic. The first chapter was a brief introduction on who the main characters were: There’s Janelle, a bright-eyed psychologist whose passion influenced the people around her. Together with El and Bea, her trusted assistants studying under her guidance, they would aid the people who went to the Hopiatria Clinic seeking care.

Meanwhile, the second chapter featured a child who felt as if she was being blamed for the death of her mother by her father. Her mother had died in a plane crash shortly after the young girl wished that her mom could go home on her sixth birthday. Janelle talks to the child gently while El and Bea provide emotional support, offering the child toys and biscuits whenever the need arises.

The third chapter was trickier, and it was there that Levi noticed a twist in Hange’s writing. The story revolved around a boy busy getting her doctorate, and a young girl who had been in love with him ever since they were in college. It’s the young girl who comes to Janelle’s office, and she relays the tale of her unrequited childhood romance to the psychologist.

The young girl is passionate, and wanted to take a step forward in order to guide her towards falling out of love with her best friend. Janelle presents two suggestions: (1) confession, while being fully-open to the possibility of rejection, and (2) accepting rejection without confession. The young girl decides to go with the first option, but to her surprise, the boy returns her feelings.

Everything seemed well-written up until the end of the chapter, where Hange had written,

And then they kissed.

Levi scrolled down the page, tilting his head to the side in slight confusion. That’s it? He thought, trying to find the rest.

Everything had been so well-described; from the girl’s internal turmoil—caused by her fear of destroying their friendship and the pain that came with unrequited love—to the boy confessing his own emotions for her.

The ending was anticlimactic, to say the least.

As he blinked at the google document in confusion, already typing out his comment on her notes app, Hange emerged from the bathroom. Her hair was loose on her shoulders, wet from her shower. Wrapped around her waist is his bathrobe, which she had borrowed from him long ago and never bothered to return it.

Levi scoffs as he glances in her direction. Here she was, parading with the cloth on and rubbing that specific fact in his face.

“Hey,” Hange greeted, smiling as she ran a hand through her brown locks, “How’s the reading going?”

“It was okay until the third chapter,” Levi says honestly, pointing the laptop screen in her direction. “The ending’s anticlimactic.”

Hange hummed, pursing her lips together. “Yeah. I didn’t really know how to end it,” she tells him as she opens her cabinet and grabs a few pieces of clothing. “Give me a bit, I’m going to change.”

She disappears into her room and Levi focuses on her story, trying to think of a way to spur Hange on and perhaps actively improve the ending’s writing.

Hange emerges in a loose t-shirt (which was, once again, his) and shorts. She sits down right beside him, leaning over his shoulder to glance at her laptop and read the specific line that particularly irked Levi.

“It’s that one, right?” Hange asks, pointing at the last sentence. “And then they kissed.”

“Yeah,” Levi responds, shaking his head. “Everything was so well-written up ‘till that point. You were able to describe the emotions perfectly, and the narration’s not that bad . . save for a few paragraphs that maybe should’ve stayed in your research papers.”

Hange chuckles. “Old habits die hard,” she responds, before taking her Macbook from his lap and transferring it to hers. “So what should I write?”

Levi shrugs. “I’m just your editor. You’re the writer.”

Hange pouts. “Yeah, but I don’t know how to make this better.”

“Maybe describe the scene more,” Levi suggests. “Everything ended so abruptly. Every emotion you’ve created and built disappeared in that one line.”

She nods in agreement. “But Levi,” Hange whines as she slumps her head on the back of her sofa and closes her eyes. “Kissing scenes are so tricky to write.”

Hange’s eyes shoot open immediately, and Levi’s face turns red just as quickly.

“F-Forget it,” he says, interrupting her just when he saw Hange open her mouth to speak. Any semblance of calm in his body disappears immediately, and his heart starts pounding against his chest in a rhythm that reminds him too much of a beating drum.

Hange, however, looks elated.

“You want to kiss me?” she tells him in excitement, blinking at him. “I’d like that. It could help me write this scene, you know.”

Levi looks away. “It was just a spur of the moment question.”

“So, you’re not going to kiss me?”

He actively avoids her gaze because he can already see from his peripheral vision that she looks sad, disappointed even. He grunts in response, closing his eyes and focusing his attention on a random spot on the wall.

“Oh,” Hange replies, “Well, I thought it was a good idea.”

Contrary to popular belief, Levi does want to kiss Hange. More than anything.

There were many reasons why: Because she looks so handsome and beautiful at the same time, and her very smile could light up any room she’d walk into. Because she says his name in the most endearing way. Because she understands his flaws. Because she has one of the kindest hearts he’s ever seen. Because she welcomes him with open arms, not a single thread of hesitation in her mind.

Most of all, it was simply because she was Hange.

He steals a glance in her direction, and she’s slightly fiddling with the hem of his shirt, her head downcast. Her sad expression tugs at hi

Levi thinks he’s already in this too deep, so he decides to speak.

“Did you want me to kiss you?”

From his periphery, he sees her look up at him so quickly he thought her neck would break. “What would you do if I said yes?”

He doesn’t dare turn his head in her direction when he replies quietly, “What do you think?”

“Would you kiss me?” Hange asks inquisitively, tilting her head to the side.

Levi’s heart skips a beat.

“Maybe,” he says in a voice barely above a whisper. “If you’d let me.”

Hange is silent for a moment, and Levi thinks this is it, I’m going to be rejected, but he feels a gentle finger touch his chin and turn his head in Hange’s direction.

He is met with her brown orbs, shining just a bit in what seemed like hidden glee. He cocks an eyebrow at her then, confused.

“I’m letting you,” Hange says, laughing. “Kiss me, I mean.” Her face is already slowly nearing his, and he can almost see the way her thick lashes brushed against her skin.

Slowly, Levi raises his head just a tiny bit and responds against her lips, “Okay.”

Hange smiles and closes the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck as he does the same around her waist. She tastes like the peppermint of her toothpaste, smells like his shampoo (which he had kept in her apartment since he always found himself staying over), and felt warm as her skin made contact with his. Hange's lips are gentle, slow, and a little shy—so different from how she usually is. Levi knows it’s because she doesn’t want to scare him off, so he makes the first move and nips at her lower lip, taking it between his teeth and sucking it gently.

She lets out a moan, and Levi takes this as a sign to continue. He slides his hand over her back, and she shudders and deepens the kiss at the same time. Her tongue meets his, and they battle for dominance. Hange’s hand sweeps over his undercut and pushes him towards him, and it is then that he lets out a sound that vaguely resembles pleasure.

After a few minutes, Hange whispers “Levi,” as her lips make contact with his. He hums in response, pulling his lips away from her and connecting his forehead with hers.

“Hange,” he says, breathless.

“Is this you telling me you like me?” Hange asks, closing her eyes.

He doesn’t form a reply through words, but he nods and closes his eyes as well.

“Great,” Hange tells him, pecking his lips with her own. “Because I like you too. Ever since I met you, I’ve liked you. Even though you were so rude to me on the first day of college.”

He chuckles silently in relief, pulling her closer to him before placing his chin on her shoulder. “Think you’ll be able to write the ending now that you know what a kiss feels like?”

Hange laughs, and it vibrates against his shoulder as she hugs him tighter. “It’s exhilarating. I probably wouldn’t be able to put into words how good I feel that you like me back.”

“Try,” Levi teases.

“Well . . . you know that alternative title I wrote for the fictional novel?”

Levi’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “The keyboard smash?”

Hange nods. “Yeah. That’s exactly what I feel like right now.”

a;lskfjdk.

#levihan #levi x hange #levihanweek 2021 #LHW 2021 #LHWeek Day 2

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capsgrl · 3 years

Text

Personal Angel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 7,903

Summary: Bucky Barnes joins the Avengers and finds himself drawn to the teams healer, but she’s keeping a secret. Will she finally heal him of the pain he experienced at the hands of Hydra.

Warnings: angst, blood, mentions of injury (only light detail), a couple of bad language words, let me know if I should add more.

Authors note: Please find 7k+ words of Bucky needing a hug and being the soft soldier he is. Reader is a healer and younger sibling of the Maximoff twins. Set after the events of Civil War except everyone loves each other and lives in harmony, nobody goes on the run. *breaks indicate change of POV*

Also posted on ao3

Growing up in Sokovia in a time of war was no picnic, but no matter how hard things were at times your parents gave you and your older twin siblings, Wanda and Pietro, the happiest childhood they possibly could. Until they couldn’t. Until tragedy struck and they were taken away from their three young children by a man named Stark.

Being the youngest, you looked up to the twins to guide you. They were your only family now and you’d follow them anywhere. So you did, you followed straight to Hydra and experiments in a science lab. There was never any doubt in your mind, wherever your family were, that’s where you belonged.

You were given the power of healing. With the help of the mind stone you were able to heal wounds and take the pain away from the injured. The first time you demonstrated your new powers to your handlers, the whole lab rejoiced. With your help, they now had an infallible army. The whole thing didn’t sit right with you, but your siblings assured you that it was a means to an end. Stark needed to pay for what he had taken from you.

It took a lot of practice for you to hone your skills. At first you couldn’t control them, and any time you touched someone, even accidentally, you would heal. The trouble with this was in order to heal them you absorbed their pain. It was only for a brief moment, but it was concentrated like a short, sharp burst. It was intense and it drained you, but eventually you learned to control it, and only use it when you chose to.

When Wanda and Pietro took off to begin their revenge plan they took you with them, but kept you hidden, kept you safe. It was only when they realised the true nature of the man, no robot, they were working for and switched to the side of good that they brought you out of the shadows and finally introduced you to the avengers.

You went to Sokovia, helping to evacuate people and heal the injured. It was exhausting but these people were innocent and they deserved your help. You were so busy you didn’t have time for fear, but when Wanda stepped onto the bus, the look on her face scared you more than anything ever had. Something bad had happened it was clear as day. Your fears were confirmed when you looked behind her to Clint, a lifeless Pietro in his arms.

Your world had suddenly got a little smaller, three had become two and it hurt. But you knew that whatever you were feeling was nothing compared to the pain of your sister, losing her twin, a connection that you could never understand now severed, and you did the only thing you could do in that moment. You threw your arms around her and absorbed it all, the pain, the grief, everything. It was the last thing you remembered before collapsing to the floor.

The next time you opened your eyes you were staring at the ceiling of the Avengers compound. Your new home. Wanda had assured you that it was the best place for you both and you couldn’t deny you felt more peaceful here than anywhere you’d been since you lost your parents.

You begged your sister not to reveal how your powers worked. Steve Rogers was a good man and wouldn’t want you to put yourself out for the team, but you wanted to help. She reluctantly agreed, on the condition that you promised not to reveal that you could heal emotional pain too. It always worried her that people would come to depend on you for their emotional needs, and the kind of affect it could have on your mental state. You readily agreed, and became an official Avenger, their resident healer, but your big sister also insisted you join her training with Steve and Natasha so you could learn to defend yourself.

The team continued to grow, until one day Steve introduced you to his latest recruit and best friend, Bucky Barnes. On the outside the man looked just like he did in the old photos you’d seen, just with slightly longer hair and a few more creases around his eyes. It was looking into his eyes that really gave away the changes. You could see a lifetime of pain and suffering in them, so much so that you knew no matter how similar he looked on the outside, he couldn’t be that same man on the inside.

You couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him to carry that pain around with him, and that thought alone spurred you on to do something that you’d not done since the day you comforted your grieving sister in Sokovia. You reached out your hand to shake his, and took just a little bit of that pain away.

B—-B

When Steve had asked him to come and stay with the team at the Avengers compound, Bucky was reluctant. After everything that happened in Berlin and with Tony he felt guilty. The Stark man had assured Steve that he understood that what happened to his parents was an act of The Winter Soldier and not Bucky, but he wasn’t ready to forgive yet. He assured Steve that it was fine for the new team to take residence in the compound, and headed back to the home he shared with Pepper, vowing to return when the time was right.

Bucky was nervous when his pal had taken him to the common room to properly introduce him to the team members he’d fought beside and against at the airport, but they all seemed really understanding. Going round shaking hands with everyone, his eyes finally landed on you. Steve introduced you as Y/N, and as you took his hand and spoke a soft ‘nice to meet you’ he felt overcome with a warm, calm feeling. A feeling he’d not felt since he was a young man before the war. It was almost like peace. Being around you made him feel lighter.

He came to learn that you were a healer, coming down to the med bag whenever Dr Cho needed your help. He found he wasn’t surprised by that at all, there seemed to be an air of calm about you that was soothing, at least to him anyway, not that he would tell anyone that. He’d barely spoken to you since he’d arrived at the compound. That first time he met you, you excused yourself quickly after shaking his hand and scurried off to your room. He couldn’t really blame you, you were probably afraid of him and wouldn’t be the first person to feel that way. There was something about you that made Bucky want to get to know you, but he was still too fragile to try to forge new relationships, relying heavily on Steve when he needed company, but spending the majority of his time alone.

The first time Bucky saw you use your powers, he was mesmerised. Steve always insisted that the team headed straight to med bat after missions for a once over even if they felt fine, which is where he found himself after returning from a trickier than expected mission with Steve and Natasha. The sound of the door behind him opening caught his attention.

“Hey Doc, what have we got today?”, you asked as you entered the room.

“Well, Miss Romanoff here took a bullet to the arm, no major damage has been done, and the bullet has been removed, but we could use some healing here if you don’t mind,” the Doctor said barely looking up from her clipboard.

“Of course. Hold still Nat,” you warned as you gently laid your hands over the injury site causing the Black Widow to wince. When you moved your hand away a moment later, Natasha’s arm looked as good as new. It was like witnessing a miracle.

The man was shaken out of his thoughts by your voice. “Want me to fix up that shiner you got there?”, you asked, pointing to the eye that was currently swollen to the point that it wasn’t fully open.

“Uh, no it’s OK, thank you though,” he uttered quietly “the serum will have this healed up in no time.” It was the truth, the serum healed him quickly just as it did Steve, although the throbbing in his head almost made him reconsider. But someone like him didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such magic, he felt that he deserved to feel ever ounce of pain, no matter how many times his best friend tried to assure him that he didn’t.

“Well you know where I am if you change your mind.” She offered, reaching out to gently touch his forearm, and once again he felt a feeling of tranquility wash over him. It was like the warmth was spreading from the point that their skin touched, all through his body. He couldn’t stop staring at her hand, that is until she pulled it away and all but sprinted out of the door.

B—-B

You jolted awake, taking a minute to examine your surroundings before realising you were definitely still in your bed, in your room at the compound. It was the middle of the night and the sound of someone screaming had woken you. You strained to listen, and you couldn’t be sure but the screams sounded awfully like they were coming from Bucky. It was probably a nightmare you reasoned, but you decided to go check anyway, just in case. You crept down the hallway towards the sound which was indeed coming from the room belonging to the man in question. Deciding you needed to see with your own eyes that it was just a dream and not something more sinister, you gently pushed the door open and peeked in.

The sight you were met with almost broke your heart. Bucky was thrashing around, tangled in the sheets, and even in the dark you could see the wrinkled set of his brow. The dim light creeping in from the hallway illuminated the sweat covering his face, neck and the part of his chest that was peeking out from the covers. It was amazing that he hadn’t woken himself up yet you mused, but another loud wail shook you out of your thoughts. Spurring into action before you could second guess yourself, you ran lightly to his side and reached out to brush the hair from his damp forehead, and resting your fingers there as gently as you could, you began to absorb the pain.

He visibly started to calm, the sounds stopping almost immediately and limbs slowly relaxing. You were starting to feel weak and knew that you needed to leave soon before you passed out on the floor next to his bed. You weren’t sure how you’d explain that away in the morning. When you felt like you couldn’t take anymore you pulled your hand back and stumbled back to your room, flopping onto your bed and crying yourself to sleep. The relaxed look on his face the next morning only cemented your plan in your mind. You would do everything you could to ease the nightmares for this tortured solider. A brief moment of pain was nothing compared to a whole night of reliving the worst moments of your life.

After the first few nights of creeping into the former assassins room you had managed to detect some sort of a pattern, and adjusted your sleep schedule accordingly. You didn’t dare tell Wanda what you were doing. You knew she didn’t approve of you using your power to emotionally heal people, further supported by the lecture you got when you’d tried to take her grief after Pietro died. The red head would be absolutely furious with you.

You were exhausted from the late night healing sessions and were worried people would start noticing the bags under your eyes. You’d not done this much emotional healing before but it was worth it to see how much more relaxed Bucky was looking, and you weren’t the only one to notice, judging by the conversation you were listening in on in the kitchen that morning.

“Hey bud, you’re looking really well rested lately, have the nightmares finally stopped?”, Steve asked as he grabbed a water from the fridge, cooling off from his morning work out.

“No, I don’t think they ever will to be honest. But they feel different now, duller if that makes sense? I dunno, I can’t explain it, but they don’t seem to wake me up anymore. I’ve not slept this well in decades.” He chuckled in response, following the man out of the kitchen.

You hid your smile behind your coffee cup before taking a sip and turning back to your breakfast but you could feel your sister's eyes on you, staring a hole into the side of your head.

“Can I help you?”, you asked with exaggerated sweetness like only an annoying little sister could. You didn’t dare look at her though.

“I know what you’re doing.” She stated matter of factly.

“Hey, we had a deal, no looking in my mind without my permission”, you hissed at her angrily.

“I didn’t. I’ve seen you go into his room at night. You’re either healing his pain or fucking him,” she said with a raised eyebrow before smirking and adding “although both can have the same relaxing affect”.

“I am not fucking him and please keep your voice down”, you whisper shouted. You thought you were being careful and suddenly panicked that someone else might have seen.

“Why Y/N? You don’t even really know him so why are you risking your own health to fix his?”, your sister asked gently. She didn’t seem angry, just confused.

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t bear the amount of pain I saw in his eyes the first time we met. Everything that happened to him, a lifetime of pain. I wanted to take it away, he doesn’t deserve it. And I know it’s exhausting and it’s not good for me blah blah blah but I can’t help it. I can’t stop myself.” You finished your rant by slumping back in your chair in defeat, your eyes staring at the ceiling.

Of all things you expected Wanda to say, or possibly even yell, the last thing you expected was a quiet “Does he know?”. You shook your head and she sat silent for a moment, contemplating before adding “maybe you should get to know him. You know, make friends. You might find you can help him without using your powers.”

B—-B

Bucky sat on the quinjet waiting to take off for the next mission and couldn’t help feeling nervous. He’d been sleeping so well at the compound lately, but this mission would mean staying away for a few days and he was worried about his nightmares coming back when he was possibly sharing a room with his team mates. The only thing giving him comfort this time was that Y/N was joining the team. Steve had asked you to accompany them as the mission was expected to last a few days, and Bucky couldn't stop himself from smiling when he heard the news. Despite the fact that he’d hardly got to know you yet, your presence relaxed him more than he could explain.

He must have been staring at you this whole time because the sounds of Steve clearing his throat broke him out of his reverie. Bucky turned to look at his friend and was met with a knowing look. “Go talk to her,” he encouraged. But he wasn’t feeling brave enough for that, and he didn’t even know what he’d say, so he just rolled his eyes and got to work sharpening his knives.

The mission had been a hard one, they were going to infiltrate three suspected Hydra bases and take them down, and it affected Bucky much more than he would care to admit. It didn’t help that he'd slept so poorly in the little basic rooms they’d stopped at in between. He thought logically that he’d sleep better sharing a room with his best friend, having the comfort of another person there, not being alone, but he didn’t. The nightmares plagued him again, worse than they’d been in a long time.

He was agitated, he just wanted to get back to the only place he seemed to be able to sleep, and maybe sleep for a week. He sat leaning forward, elbows leaning on his knees, leg bouncing up and down, and was surprised when you sat down next to him.

“Wanna talk about it?”, you whispered. His head whipped around to you so fast he's surprised his neck didn’t break. You must have noticed the stunned look on his face, because you quickly added “sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I just uh, I figured that this particular mission might have been harder for you than usual. I’m sorry again.” You looked away then, and Bucky was worried you were going to leave. He liked it when you were nearby, so he blurted out the first thing that came into his head “It was”. You looked at him again, this time with sadder eyes. It felt like you were reading his mind, but he was sure you didn’t have that power. “I’m not ready to talk about it, I’m sorry, but thank you. For asking I mean. I appreciate it.”

“I understand. But if you do ever want to talk, about anything, I’m a great listener.” You reached out then, placing your hand in his bouncing knee to stop the movement and he felt it, that familiar warmth spreading from where you touched him, through his whole body, relaxing him. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his cheeks, it was like it was involuntary. He turned to look at you then, and you were smiling right back, a soft warm smile. You were so close that he could smell your shampoo and it was intoxicating. Your eyes fluttered slightly and he looked down at your lips. He didn’t even know you but he was suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss you.

Unfortunately, the moment was broken by a voice that never failed to irritate the super soldier. “Quit making eyes with Y/N man. We need you up front.”

“Coming Wilson,” he sighed as he turned and watched you all but run away. You slept the rest of the flight home.

Once the jet landed, Bucky went straight to his room to shower and nap. Feeling much more human now, he ventured to the kitchen for food where he once again saw Sam.

“So you and Y/N huh,” he smirked, folding his arms and leaning back against the counter next to where Bucky was working on a sandwich. “Sorry if I interrupted a moment there. She’s a sweet girl though, I think she’d be good for you.”

Despite his usual irritation with the man, Bucky found that he was actually a really good person to talk to, his experience with social work meaning he often had useful advice. “I like her,” he admitted. “I can’t explain it, I just feel better when she’s around, but I don’t know how to talk to her. One minute I think she wants to talk and then she runs away from me. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“Well, you are an intense dude”, Sam laughed. “Seriously though, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Just talk to her, keep it light, ‘hey how’s it going”, you know that sort of thing.”

Bucky was about to respond when he heard someone call his name. He turned to see Wanda in the doorway, and he could feel his cheeks heat up at being caught talking about her sister. “We need to talk” she stated, in a tone that caused Sam to grab his food and scarper with a quiet good luck on his way out.

“Wanda, I’m not sure how much you heard but…” Bucky started, but was quickly cut off by the red heads raised hand.

“There’s something you don’t know about Y/N. Healing physical injuries isn’t the only power she has, she can also take away emotional pain.”

Bucky was stunned and couldn’t seem to form a more comprehensive response than “wow, I didn’t know”.

“Nobody knows except me, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. When she takes the emotional pain away, she absorbs it, and I don’t want her to become an emotional crutch for anyone, I’m afraid that it will affect her mental state negatively. I know the team would never intentionally hurt her, but I can’t risk it. You understand right?”

“Of course, I won’t tell a soul. But why are you telling me this, aren’t you worried I’ll do just that?” Bucky questioned.

“You already are, you just don’t know it”, Wanda quipped. “She’s been healing you. At night when she hears you having nightmares she comes in and takes the pain away. All it takes is a touch, and I suspect she might be doing it at other times too, although I couldn’t be sure”.

Suddenly everything makes sense now. Why he always felt better in your presence. He thought you were just a tactile person but all those gentle touches that warmed his heart were times you were healing him. You were the reason he was sleeping so soundly at night.

“I swear I had no idea Wanda, you gotta believe me”, he pleaded.

“I do, I think. But I just wanted you to know, because everytime she takes your pain away, she feels it. Only for a moment, but the worse the pain for the person, the more intensely she feels it. It’s really draining her, and I don’t want to begrudge you the comfort but she’s my sister and I’m worried”.

Bucky felt absolutely awful. He’d never want to inflict his pain on anyone else, even for a moment, especially not someone as good as you. Someone who helped him so selflessly. It was his cross to bear, he made his bed and he intended to lie in it. Cold and alone. “I won’t let her do it anymore”, he swore to Wanda before leaving her alone in the kitchen with his sandwich. He’d suddenly lost his appetite.

B—-B

Things had been weird since your first mission, you could feel it. Bucky had been avoiding you like the plague, and you felt terrible. You’d wanted to get to know him, to try to be friends like Wanda suggested, but you’d gone about it the wrong way and clearly upset him. He’d even taken to locking his bedroom door at night preventing you from soothing his nightmares. You were sure he wasn’t sleeping again, but you’d not seen so much as a glimpse of him in weeks so couldn’t verify that.

Why would he lock his door at night? The bedrooms were in a secure floor so there was no danger of intruders and FRIDAY would alert you all anyway. Then it struck you. Did he know? Had he found out that you’d be coming in his room at night to heal him? There’s no way he could know surely, unless someone had told him. Just then Wanda came into the common room and plopped herself down on the couch next to you, and you remembered how protective your big sister could be.

“I’ve not seen Bucky around recently, have you spoken to him at all?”, you asked nonchalantly. “Nope,” was all the answer you got.

“You sure about that?”, you pressed, giving her your best sister stare down. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know. “Wanda! How could you? Jesus he must be so mad at me, no wonder he’s not speaking to me”, you shouted incredulously.

“I’m sorry, but I was worried about what you were doing to yourself. You're my baby sister and I love you. If you wouldn’t listen to me I thought you might listen to him.”

“We’ll he’s not even speaking to me now so that was a big fail sis, well done,” you seethed. At that moment Steve and Sam walked in.

“Oh I wondered why tin man’s been so mopey lately, lovers quarrel?” Sam questioned teasingly. Steve elbowed him in the side lightly and pointed down the corridor. “He’s in the gym,” the soldier added by way of explanation.

As soon as you reached the gym you could see how tired Bucky looked through the glass door. His eyes were dark and heavy, his eyebrows turned down and his hits weren’t landing on the punch bag with their usual impact.

You stepped in quietly, then thought better of sneaking up on a super soldier and cleared your throat. “Hi Bucky, can we talk a minute?”

The man looked up and then tiredly gestured to the bench at the side of the room where his bag was sat. He sat down and started unwrapping his flesh hand. He was obviously waiting for you to speak first so you took a deep breath to steady yourself and started.

“Firstly, I just wanted to apologise. I know that Wanda told you about me, uh, you know…” you trailed off. God this was embarrassing. “I’m so sorry. I realise that was a total violation of your privacy and also really creepy, but I promise you it was coming from a good place. I was trying to help not, you know, be a peeping Tom or anything.” You blushed at that, remembered the times you’d seen his beautiful chiselled pecs, and those gorgeous biceps and powerful thighs whenever they poked out of the covers. He didn’t need to know about those thoughts.

He chuckled at that and you felt yourself relax slightly. “Trust me, that is one of the least creepy things that’s happened to me in my 100 odd years, doll. Apology accepted”. You couldn’t help but chuckle back.

“Well thank you. I assume that's the reason you’ve been avoiding me?” You questioned nervously. When he shook his head your heart sank. Did you do something else? Then it hit you. “Of course me healing you without your consent is equally as weird, so again I apologise. I just wanted to help but I can see that I probably went about it all wrong.”

Bucky shook his head vehemently then. “God no, you think I’m mad at you? How could I be mad at you, you’ve got a heart of gold and you have helped me so much since Steve brought me here. Honestly, I don’t think I’d have felt so comfortable here if it hadn’t been for you. I could never understand why I always felt so at peace around a near stranger, but as soon as Wanda explained your powers to me it all made sense. But I would never want to hurt you Y/N, and the thought of you taking on just a fraction of this pain made me feel awful. You don’t deserve that and me avoiding you was just me trying to protect you.”

You were relieved at his confession. He wasn’t mad. You sighed and relaxed fully leaning back against the wall. “I promise you it’s not that bad. Most of the time. It only lasts for a moment, and sometimes if it’s only mild pain I barely even feel it. Like when I heeled Steve’s bruised ribs on that overnight because he couldn’t sleep. I hardly even flinched,” you said bumping your shoulder with his. “But if you don’t want me to do it anymore, I promise I won’t.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what you’ve been doing for me. More than you could know. But I think it’s about time I tried to overcome these demons on my own.” You nodded at that. He had a point, you had become a crutch without him even knowing. You got up to leave when he grabbed your hand to stop you. “If I’m doing this, I think I’m gonna need a friend. What do ya say?” He asked, looking up at you with a hopeful grin.

“I’d love to be your friend”, you replied. If you couldn’t help him with your power, offering moral support would be the next best thing.

B—-B

The months after your talk in the gym had been the best in Bucky’s long life. You’d really started to relax around him, the conversations came easy, both when you were all with the team and if you were hanging out alone.

It was the times that you hung out alone he enjoyed the most. He could really be himself then, without worrying about knowing looks from Steve and Sam, or worrying whether Wanda was going to try and read his mind to find out his intentions with her sister. He wasn’t even sure he was ready to confront those feelings himself. He told himself that he just wanted to get to know you, but deep in his heart he knew that he was falling for you.

You laughed together, he told you stories about life in the 30s and 40s, his family, a young pre-serum Steve, and anything else you wanted to know. In turn you taught him all about modern technology, helped him pick out some more modern day clothes and even took him to get a haircut. He couldn’t help but notice the way you stared for a little too long when he came out with his hair cropped shorter, before nodding that you liked it.

The nightmares were back and almost as aggressive as before, but when he walked out into the kitchen one night to make himself a tea and found Y/N sat there waiting for him with one already made, he found himself opening up to you. He’d never tell you all the gory details that plagued his mind at night, but even revealing just a little bit of those late night visions and the feelings that followed, made him feel better. You never judged, just listened, and not even the thought that Sam was right about how he should talk about his feelings more could diminish that safe feeling he had with you.

You’d even started touching him again, completely innocent touches like leaning your head on his shoulder, linking your hand through his arm when you were walking around town, but still sending a warmth through his body like you were healing him. And maybe you were healing him, he thought, just without using your powers.

Steve and Sam had been bugging him for a while to ask you out properly, but for some reason today when they started their usual post run chorus of ‘when are you going to ask Y/N out’, he was feeling bold and said he’d do it today.

So that’s where he found himself an hour later, after showering, changing and pacing circles in his room to try and gain back some of the quickly waning courage. He knocked on your door and waited nervously. You answered and invited him in, and he mentally chastised himself for not bringing flowers. He was nervous, but decided to just suck it up and power through.

“Hey doll, uh I just wanted to ask, see I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you these last few months, more than I’ve enjoyed anything in a really long time.” He was messing this up he knew it, and you were just stood there staring at him and not speaking. The young Bucky from the 40s who was charming and good with the ladies mentally kicked him to get on with it. He could do this. So he continued. “So I just wanted to know if you wanted to go to dinner with some time.” He finally let out a breath and tried to relax whilst he waited for your response.

“Like a date?”, you asked and you looked shocked and he panicked, thinking he’d got all the signs wrong and wondering how he could back track when you smiled and said “I’d love to go out for dinner with you, definitely as a date. I honestly thought you’d never ask, like ever.”

Bucky finally relaxed at that. You said yes, you wanted to go out with him. He didn’t think he could be any happier right now. “Good. Great! I’m going on a mission with Steve and Sam tomorrow so how’s Friday night?”

“Perfect”, you smiled and he honestly didn’t think he’d ever get over seeing you smile at him like that. He was head over heels.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d agree, so I didn’t actually come up with a plan. I’ll text you OK?” He assured you as he backed out the door, wanting to keep looking at you as long as he could. When he got through the doorway he stopped, still smiling like an idiot. You walked up to the door, stood up on your tip toes and kissed him on the cheek. “I can’t wait Buck”, you whispered as you stepped back and shut the door.

B—-B

The short 2 day mission turned out to be the next big bad, and the three men had ended up having to radio in for back up. It was going to be all hands on deck, which meant that when the second quinjet arrived you were on it. Wanda had asked you to stay behind but you wanted to help, and especially wanted to be there in case a certain someone needed you.

You were out in the field helping get innocent bystanders to safety and healing up the Avengers so they could get back into the fight. You could feel it taking a toll on your body, your steps becoming more slow and sluggish as time went on. After getting a young family to safety you turned to head back to the next victim needing help when you saw what appeared to be an axe flung in your direction. You froze, your brain tired from all the healing you’d done and not thinking fast enough.

What you weren’t prepared for was the shove you felt at your side, sending you toppling to the ground. You scrambled up to see the sight of Bucky, laying on the ground at your feet, the weapon in question lodged firmly in his stomach.

“No no no, Bucky what did you do?!” You screamed as you dropped to your knees to assess the damage. Steve and Wanda were at your side in an instant, the rest of the team continuing the fight around you. You felt panicked, terrified of the sight in front of you as the blood flowed out of the wound and over your hands at a steady rate. You knew exactly what you needed to do, and you needed to do it now before it was too late and the blood loss became too much.

Taking in a big breath you steeled yourself and started giving out orders. “Steve, I need you to remove the axe, and Wanda, you need to put up a shield to protect us from further damage while I heal him. Ok, on three guys, one…” but before you could count any further the man in question croaked out your name. “Doll please, it’s OK, just let me go. I’m old, it’s my time.”

The fact that he would even suggest such a thing made you livid. “Bucky, how could you say that? You saved me, so now I’m going to save you and we don’t have time to argue this,” you shouted as your knees started to become damp with his blood.

“C’mon Buck, let her do it. She does it all the time, no big deal right,” Steve encouraged, clapping you in the shoulder whilst you nodded your head in agreement.

Wanda rested her hand gently on your shoulder then, an action that you were sure was meant to soothe, but only irritated you as you knew exactly what was coming. “You’ve never healed a wound this severe before, you don’t know what it will do to you.”

At Steve’s confused look your sister began a quick explanation on how your powers truly worked but you drowned the conversation out as Bucky weakly reached a hand up to your face. “Please Y/N,” he begged, “I don’t wanna hurt you, I love you. Just let me go.” But hearing those three words, from the man you loved, a man who was fading in front of you, just further cemented your decision in your mind. Looking at the Captain beside you, you whispered “Steve, please” and you knew you had him. He nodded grimly and on the count of three he lifted the axe, and you replaced it with your hands.

As you placed your hands over the oozing wound, you tried to concentrate everything you had into the prone man’s body, every ounce of love and every morsel of strength you had left in you. You sent a silent prayer up to heaven that you’d get to tell this man you loved him too and share your first kiss. You could feel your body weakening, and were vaguely aware that the steady flow over your hands seemed to be slowing, but you couldn’t hold it much longer, and you hoped it would be enough. Suddenly the overwhelming urge to sleep invaded your senses and you collapsed right there on top of Bucky’s chest.

You awoke to the sound of beeping. Your eyelids felt heavy and it took a few moments for you to blink them fully open, but when you finally did you were greeted by the sight of your older sister.

“Oh god, I’m so relieved you’re awake!” She cried brushing your hair off of your forehead in a motherly gesture.

“Bucky,” you managed to croak out through your dry mouth. Wanda handed you a sip of water before answering. “He’s fine. He’s currently receiving blood to replace what he lost but you did it, you healed him. Dr Cho called it a miracle.”

“Oh thank god,” you sighed “and the battle?”

“We won,” your sister informed you “and you young lady are going to be fine. The doc ran extensive tests and seems to think that you just kind of passed out from the pain, and then went into a deep sleep from the shock. But it could have been much worse, you need to be more careful.”

“In this line of work?” You joked, causing her to roll eyes. “When can I get out of here?”

At that moment, your Captain stepped into the room. “The doctor will be in to give you a once over in a moment, then you’re good to go,” he informed you. “I was just wondering if I could have a moment?” He asked tentatively. Your sister excused herself and left the two of you alone.

Steve sat down in the now empty chair. He looked tired, and you guessed he must have been sat by Bucky’s side for a good while. You were glad he had someone there.

“I wanted to thank you Y/N,” he started. “If you hadn’t been there, I would have lost my best friend all over again. The fact that it caused you so much hurt to heal him, well that is something I can never repay. I feel terrible for letting you do it, it was selfish of me.” He looked so guilty that it made you sad.

“I was going to do it anyway Steve, whether you agreed or not. There’s just no way I could have sat there and let him go.” You could feel the tears welling in your eyes at the thought of things ending before they’d even really started.

You knew Steve understood, after everything he’d been through to get his friend back he knew exactly how you felt. “Well I’m extremely grateful for that stubborn streak of yours, but now that Wanda’s filled me in on all the facts surrounding your gift we’re going to have to have a conversation about some new work protocols,” the man scolded, his captain's voice firmly back. Clearly reading the sense of dread in your face he added, “but now we have more pressing matters. There’s someone down the hall that’s desperate to see you.”

B—-B

Bucky was fed up. He hated hospitals, he’d spent far too many years of his life being poked and prodded and he was done with it. He’d laid in this bed for 2 days waiting for you to wake up and he couldn’t help but replay the last time he saw you in his mind.

He was laying on the ground, a pain searing through his stomach, when suddenly he felt a familiar warmth. A warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time, spreading from the wound throughout his whole body. This time though, the feeling was different, it was more somehow. He’d never really believed in god, or any kind of divine being, not after everything that happened to him in the past. But that feeling, he could only imagine it was how it would feel to be touched by an angel. Suddenly the pain was gone but he could still feel a heavy weight on his chest. He looked down to discover the weight he was feeling was you.

Bile had risen in this throat when he realised what had happened. Y/N had healed him, hurting yourself in the process. Wanda was shaking you, trying to wake you. Steve was checking your pulse, assuring the redhead that it was still very much there. He lifted you off Bucky’s chest, and carried you quickly to the quinjet. Wanda helped the injured soldier up and to the jet too, where he sat next to you holding your hand until Steve landed back at the compound, the medics ready to greet you all straight from the ramp.

Bucky hadn’t seen you since they’d whisked you away for testing. They’d taken him to a separate room where he was given blood to make up for what he’d lost on the battlefield. He kept asking if you were OK and if he could see you, but was told to stay put until they knew more.

As he laid there with his eyes closed his thoughts were interrupted by footsteps, followed by Steve’s voice. “You have a visitor,” he announced simply.

Bucky sighed, not feeling up for visitors at the moment. “If it’s bird brain again tell him I’m dead” he grouched. Not hearing the comeback he was expecting from his sharp tongued friend, he opened his eyes, and almost pinched himself to check if he was dreaming.

“You’re awake, oh god doll are you ok?” He asked, trying to get out of bed and go to you, forgetting about his IV and the other wires connected to him.

“Stay put,” you said rushing towards him, gently pushing him back into the bed. “I’m fine, just had a nice long sleep.”

“You scared the shit outta me. I told you to let me go. My life is not worth more than yours.” Suddenly aware that his fear could be mistaken for anger he softened his voice. “But thank you. I owe you everything.”

You just smiled back at him that beautiful smile he worried he’d never see again. “Actually, you just owe me a date.” You reached out your hand to hold his and he couldn’t resist placing a kiss in your knuckles. “As soon as I’m all fixed up and out of here, I’m all yours.” And he was. He knew now that he would only ever be yours for as long as you’d have him.

You stayed and chatted with him a while longer, never letting go of his hand, but after a while he could see your eyes falling. “Go home doll, you need your rest,” he tried to encourage.

“I am tired but I just don’t want to go,” you pouted.

“Well, you could hop up here and take a nap next to me. It’s a small bed though we might have to snuggle real close”, he suggested with his most charming smile.

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled sleepily. You took off your shoes and climbed up in the bed next to him. He lifted the blanket for you to slip under, and you immediately rested your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around to hold you close. He thought you’d fallen asleep, and he laid there watching your steady breaths until you spoke again. “When I was healing you, all I could think about was the fact that I’d never told you I loved you and I’d never kissed you, and I knew that if I never saw you again it would be my biggest regret. So I’m telling you now. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss that he’d been dying for since he met you. Your lips were so soft, and your body felt so warm and so right pressed against him. The kiss started out slow and loving, Bucky pouring all the love he felt into it, but when you slipped your hand up to gently tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and deepening the kiss, things got a bit more heated. The sound you made when your tongues finally met was almost enough to make him lose control and he slid his hand down from where it was stroking your lower back over your hip and down to your thigh. He was just about to pull your leg up and over his so he could show you just how much you were affecting him when you were interrupted by an alarm. You pulled back, panic on your face and he couldn’t help but laugh. “You just got my heart racing,” he teased, nodding at the heart rate monitor that was slowly calming back down.

You laughed then and gently shoved his shoulder. You were now both lying on your sides facing each other. “Well, that’s one item ticked off the bucket list,” you quipped, before leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “To be continued,” you joked as you wiggled your eyebrows, “now let’s sleep.”

As you both snuggled back down in the tiny hospital bed, Bucky kissed the top of your hair and whispered quietly “goodnight angel.” He would never admit it to anyone but he’d missed the feeling of you healing him, the warm feeling that engulfed him when your power flowed through him was like nothing he’d ever felt before, he could understand why Wanda was concerned that people would come to rely on it too much.

But as you laid there asleep in his arms a different kind of warmth enveloped him, and as he slipped off into a restful sleep he realised that he didn’t need your powers to heal him, your love was enough, his personal angel.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

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amidstsaltandsmoke · 3 years

Note

prompt 142 👀

...anon, I promise I didn't forget about you! Life™ and writers block/doubt had me stuck for a while. Apologies that this was sent something like 5ish weeks ago? I originally had a whole other idea written for this one but didn't like it and scrapped it. Not sure how much I like this one but I hope that you do!! Someday I will learn how to write an actual drabble-sized drabble. Thank you for sending the prompt!💛 P.S. I changed the wording around a little bit, I hope you don't mind :) ________________________ Prompt: “Hold my hand so he gets jealous.” Dany was a master at these types of work events by now, but the past few weeks, especially, had been draining. That was typical for a start-up, when they were trying to garner as much outreach as possible. Traveling between two different states and another country and back in the span of 7 days was a whole other animal, however.

This affair was meant to be a little more informal, but the air was still stuffy with corporate suits slithering about. Her favorite colleague and come-to-be wonderful friend had been working with her to get the head honchos drunk the quickest, that way they would be less inclined to hover and more likely to forget the goings on entirely.

But it wasn’t any of that that had her so on edge. It was that Jon was acting particularly distant ever since they’d all arrived nearly three hours ago now, and he seemed to almost be evading her.

Jon Snow, the young visionary who co-founded the company alongside her, who developed the technology that was rapidly playing a vital role in detecting and detaining human traffickers. That was sexy all on its own, but tonight he was dressed in a crisp, slim black suit, his dark locks half pulled back behind his head, his short beard trimmed just a little more for the gala.

They'd spent many a late evening and early morning in the office and over video conference working out the kinks of their start-up, smoothing wrinkles and always doing their best to stay ahead of their goals, where seeing one another so groomed and freshened up it was almost jarring. Typically - especially by the end of their days when work ran over - they'd been too riddled with exhaustion to bother keeping up physical appearances. There were more important matters that needed tending. And plus, as magnificent as he looked now, when he was a little disheveled with his riotous curly hair strewn about his head, his black thick framed glasses, his button-down loosened at the collar...there was an odd sort of comfort she found with that, and in knowing he was comfortable enough in her presence to relax.

She devoted so much of her young life to this dream and to have found someone just as driven, reliable, and enthusiastic about it was beyond her hopes and dreams.

But it also came with some side effects.

Months of time spent together between just the two of them had, inadvertently, created a wild storm of feelings for him. She found herself thinking about him on her days off and in her time away from the office, of which she spent more there than home these days. Dinner was more frequently than not held in one of their offices, depending on how they were feeling by the end of a strenuous day - his was always cooler with the air conditioning turned so low she oftentimes wondered how he didn't get hypothermia sitting in there.

On the other hand, she cranked up the heat in hers, and she received mirroring grumbles from Jon, how his northern skin would simply melt and she'd be left scooping him up off the floor.

To her advantage, however, that meant loosened layers of clothing, sometimes less of it if she were lucky. The same went to his benefit, too; he thought she didn't notice his wandering eyes, but of course she did. Just as she felt she was smooth enough to get a study on his stacked arms when he would remote even his button-down and left himself in a snug white or black plain t-shirt. That occurrence only happened once; she possibly hadn't been as discreet about her ogling as her mind had told her. Not when the cotton fiber was stretched so perfectly over his broad, muscular chest and fit his biceps like a rubber glove.

Sometimes, in the last hour of the day when they were already working well over their regular time, they would give themselves a break and kick back. They dove into topics ranging from favorite movies to deeper subjects like their most fucked up childhood memory. It turned out they had quite a lot in common, which fed into her ever-growing "things I adore about Jon Snow" bank that she stored away in her mind.

The trouble was, workplace romance was simply not allowed. At least, not within the same departments, and it still required paperwork to be filled out with an assortment of terms and agreements to abide to. Considering they were co founders together, that made things trickier.

Neither of them spoke any of this into the atmosphere, but it was palpable, and it got more torturous as time went on. Jon was the stronger one out of the two of them, and she knew he would never act on anything if it meant she could get let go or demoted. Their CEO could be a little bit of a hardass when it came down to company policies, but Dany was convinced they could find a way to make things work.

That included doing so behind everyone's backs. In all of the time they spent together without other company, Dany could count on one hand how many times there was ever anybody else in the building besides them when they were pulling extra hours. They could easily keep their hands to themselves during the day around their colleagues. At least, she thought so. It would at least make for a very exciting night cap to the day once they were able to be alone.

Missandei and Oberyn were the only two people she could trust to confide in, and to also keep it between just the three of them. Thus far, they did nothing but root for her luck to change, that maybe one of them would just bite the bullet and finally hook up. She was quite tired of skirting around it when she was with Jon, and the tension that thickened between them was going to reach a breaking point.

If she didn’t do something soon, if not just to confirm that he had it as bad as she did, she would wind up doing something impulsive, like pouncing on him one of these days when nobody was around. Or, possibly, when they had an audience.

Dany turned around and scanned the room until she latched onto him, where he was shaking hands and chatting up other people. He was not the tallest man in the world, but his presence was demanding, despite his humbleness. Every now and again, even in conversation, he would look up and around as if seeking something or someone. A little foolishly, she hoped it was her, though even in heels she was below average height compared to most everyone else in the room and would be a little difficult to locate.

"Go get that ass, girl," Oberyn growled into her ear, whacking her bum with the back of his hand, to which she promptly slugged his arm.

"Ouch!" He hissed, rubbing at the offended area. His smugness returned soon after, lips ticking up at the corners. "You'd better save that strength, you will need it later!"

He was darting off into the crowd with a chortle before she could scold him, and it took all of her professional mind to not flip off his retreating back.

“So...how are you going to seduce the elusive Jon Snow?” Missi inquired with a sassy eyebrow raised, her nearly-empty drink clutched in her hand.

Dany sighed, trying to not be too obvious as she observed him flitting from person to person. “I’m starting to think I’d imagined the entire thing,” she muttered with some frustration.

Missi pouted. “I don’t know about that. Not only are there a lot of snitches here that are probably keeping him at arms’ length, but have you not noticed Jon only goes to these things if you’re here?”

Dany frowned, finally tearing her eyes away from Jon to gape at her friend. “What? No, he’s gone to plenty without me, I’m sure of it…”

But was she? In hindsight, now that she really thought about it, there was never a social work event that Jon ever reported to her when she couldn’t make it. She could recall a handful where she went for the both of them, because he would much rather stay lat to play catch-up than mingle with large groups of people, and whenever there was news or gossip, he was the first person she’d save it for.

“You need to make him show you that he wants you just as bad as you want him. I’m sure he has the same fantasies-”

“Missi,” Dany drawled, tilting her head back and scrunching up her face. Yes, she and Missi may have shared almost daily secret huddles in the office, most of which entailed Dany agonizing over Jon Snow haunting her dreams on a regular basis. Rather than his hands rolling up his sleeves because the air was stifling, it was him doing so and crawling over her. Instead of him crouching down near her feet to pick up the pen he’d just dropped, it was him lowering himself to lift up the hem of her skirt and situate his face between her thighs. Sometimes it was sweeter than that: his hands sweeping wisps of hair away from her face when she gave up on it at the end of the day, or he would say “fuck it” to a prticularly agitating project and would gather her up and they would hold eah other on his office couch.

Reality was reflective of the sweetness of her wandering thoughts, just much less physical. They always texted each other when they each got home safely. By now, they’d each memorized their favorite go-to take-out preferences for various restaurants. If someone was having a rougher-than-usual day, one would send the other home and stay longer to cover them (if they were both having an equally terrible day, it came down to a couple rounds of rock-paper-scissors).

All things friends would do for one another, sure, except for the unbearable pull between them that was almost a physical thing.

In recent weeks, they began texting each other regularly, and most of it did not pertain to work, unless they were poking fun at it. A handful of times, Jon snapped photos of something of interest of Dany’s, and his message screamed “this made me think of you” without the actual words. It was the subtext. Usually something along the lines of, “didn’t you mention you were looking for this for about a million years?” in regards to a really cute coffee bar that had been sold out in her favorite color, a lemon yellow, that Jon had managed to find. And reserved for her special so nobody would snatch it up.

Or the multiple times he would share photos of his beautiful snow-white dog, Ghost, in various odd positions, or making strange faces, and adding something like: “a nightcap to your shitty day?”

And Dany loved to return the favor, though it was no competition. She just genuinely adored making him smile. Sometimes it was taking the piss out of him when he was extra grumpy, which immediately put him in a lighter mood. It was also bringing in an obnoxious box of coffee to share between them during the early dawn hours when nobody should be congregating for work-related endeavors at such an ungodly time. Just last week, he had been fidgeting more than usual and was noticeably distracted. When she had inquired what the issue was, he mentioned that Ghost was probably crossing his legs at that point since Jon was running late. As Dany had another errand to run before stopping home, she’d offered to let him out since Jon had a late conference that evening, and he had been all-too-happy in handing her over his keys.

The snort from Missi that invaded Dany’s thoughts had her turning her head toward her friend, who looked doubtful. “Probably every sane person in this room has had a fantasy about you. Jon is at the very top of that list."

Dany grimaced. "Please don't say things like that when I have to look all these people in the eye tonight.”

She weighed Missi’s words, but nothing came to mind right away. Jon appeared too distracted to notice anything she did anyway, and she also didn’t want to come off as desperate, especially if it might raise suspicions amongst others in the ballroom.

Then an idea struck her when she spotted Oberyn once more. Their marketing sleuth, and someone she had grown fond of because of his warm demeanor toward everyone he met. He was the friends-with-everyone type, and he was flagging her down as if he’d read her mind, so she excused herself and weaved through the crowd until she reached him.

Oberyn pecked each of her cheeks, even though he’d just seen her a little while ago, then held her out by her arms and gave her a slow once-over as if he’d only been seeing her for the first time that night. With anyone else, she would have balked, but she knew him well enough to understand it was a platonic gesture. Once his eyes reached hers again, his dark brow lifted to his hairline. “How has the white wolf kept his paws off of you this long?”

Dany scowled, flicking his shoulder. “I’ve been trying to figure that out myself for the past several months.”

“Well, what’s the hold-up?”

Sighing, Dany made a secret peek behind Oberyn where Jon was moving closer. Briefly did their eyes lock, and she turned back to Oberyn. “Hold my hand,” she said, extending her own for his.

“Why? So he gets jealous?” Oberyn drawled, snatching up her hand and taking it a step further by pressing a kiss to the top of it.

“Maybe,” she replied, straightening her spine by her boldness.

They conversed for some time, getting cozy and giggling away and eventually were joined by some of their other colleagues. When someone made a point to question why they were holding hands, Oberyn was quick on his feet in explaining that there were no rules to dating across different departments, only if two people worked in the same one. But it soured her stomach.

After she and Oberyn stayed that way for a short time, chatting about things she could barely bring herself to care much about as Jon edged past them, her shoulders slumped as she twisted about to watch him make a beeline for the bar.

“Daenerys,” Oberyn called to her sympathetically, “go to him. You’re not going to get anywhere if you keep up this silly game,” he explained and wiggled their conjoined hands, gently returning hers to her.

She swallowed and nodded, feeling childish that she even considered making such a move. Most of the guests were out on the dance floor, so it was easier to maneuver around to get to the bar where Jon had just collected his drink. Her nerves were wrecked, and this time it was the uncertainty of what reaction she may get, despite her earlier confidence.

As he was turning around, she observed him downing a quick shot before he realized she was there. He returned the glass to the counter and gave her his full attention. “Hey,” he rasped, his throat likely still burning from the liquor.

The pessimistic thoughts ate at her once more. “Hey. I didn’t think you’d show up tonight.” She tried for casual conversation, though it sounded forced even to her own ears.

Shrugging, he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trousers. “Figured I ought to make an appearance. You look nice, by the way.”

The tight smile he produced felt uncharacteristically forced, almost nervous. She shifted on her heeled feet, her mouth suddenly parched, her words half choked out. “Thanks. So do you,” she drew in a silent breath, and decided she couldn’t take it anymore. “Are you alright?”

“Aye, just...tired,” he landed on, but she wasn’t convinced. Before she could dig a little deeper, his attention fell on something behind her. She followed his gaze and caught Oberyn heading their way. She wasn’t sure what to make of his determined expression, but something about it made her a little queasy.

“I should probably go before your boyfriend gets upset,” Jon murmured just loud enough for her to hear; he didn’t give her a chance to catch him before she realized what he’d said and disappeared on her.

Oberyn stopped just short of Dany. “What was that all about? It looked like you needed rescuing.”

Pressing her eyes closed, Dany silently cursed herself. “I’m an idiot, that’s what happened. I’ll catch you later,” she cut him an apologetic glance and squeezed his arm before trailing in the direction of where Jon slunk off to.

___________________

The damned ballroom and her petite height made it hard to see above anyone, but luckily she was able to locate him by asking around if anyone had seen him. When she was notified he had mentioned he wasn’t feeling well and wanted to take off without any commotion, her heart sank. She was a damn fool, and now she was half running in six-inch heels, the skirt of her dress hiked up so she wouldn’t land herself a concussion, hoping beyond hope he hadn’t reached the parking lot yet.

She almost passed him up when she barged her way outside, frantically searching over the lot, breathless, to spot his car. A movement to her left made her jump, her hand flying to her chest until Jon stepped beneath the dim patio light and let her breathe again.

"Bloody hells," she exhaled, observing him as he put out his cigarette with his shoe and tossed the butt into the trash.

"Sorry," he chuckled, once more sheltering his hands inside his pockets as he turned his shadowed eyes on her.

"I didn't know you smoked," she mused, still trying to calm her heart.

Jon ducked his head, and she thought she caught a smirk on him, but it was too dark to tell. "Only sometimes. What are you doing out here, anyway?"

So much for giving her heart time to settle - now it kickstarted tenfold. There was no way to be honest without the whole truth. She supposed now was as good a time as any, best as they didn't have an audience. "I was hoping to catch you before you'd left," she paused, his gaze lifting and resting hard on her. So intense that she averted hers to her feet while she sounded her admission. "Oberyn isn't my boyfriend."

After a moment of silence, she sought his reaction. He lifted a shoulder "It's not my business, Dany."

"No. It is, because…," she took a half step closer, then squeezed her eyes shut. It sounded so childish to even say it. "I'd asked him to do me a favor so that it might make you jealous."

It came out so quickly she didn't think he understood half the words. But he was frowning when she braved opening her eyes again. "And why would you want to do that, Dany?"

His voice fell an octave lower, practically purring, and it left her momentarily stunned in place even as he began to close in on her. The use of her nickname in such a manner was leaving her in a delirious state. By the time he stopped, just a hair’s breadth short of their toes touching, she was having to tilt her head up to see him. Even despite the added height of her shoes. Somehow, her voice didn't quiver with the hopeful anticipation that was setting her nerves alight.

With whatever scrap of courage she had left, she voiced it into the world. "Because I really, really, really like you, and it's been torture trying to piece together whether the feeling is mutual, or if it's a figment of my imagination."

His frown returned, deeper than before, his eyes darting between each of hers. "How could you ever think it's one-sided?" He asked gruffly, and a knot firmly wrapped around her throat. Maybe that was a good thing, to prevent her from saying anything that would break the spell. “You occupy my mind ninety percent of the time,” he said, “the other ten is me trying to figure out how to stop thinking about you for five bloody minutes so I can get work done without being distracted.”

She huffed out a breath of relief, finally allowing herself to smile. It was good that it was night time so the red sweeping over her cheeks was well hidden. Still, she ducked her head to give herself a moment to dwell on his confession. His finger gently encouraged her to come back to him though, and suddenly the air between them was thin, his breath puffing against her lips.

A raucous shriek just a little way over inside the building made them both jump apart, a group of intoxicated people bowling their way through the double doors and out onto the patio. One of them slurred their apology as they stumbled out into the parking lot, exclaiming about how they couldn’t wait to get their hands on a fat greasy burger and then throw it up later. There couldn’t have possibly been anything much better at ruining the mood than that.

Jon huffed when he looked at her, rubbing at his forehead. No doubt his heart was beating just as violently against his chest as hers was. Without a word, he snatched up Dany’s hand and tugged her into the grassy area, hidden behind the solid wall of the venue. After double checking over his shoulder, he pressed himself against the rough brick wall and pulled her flat against him while she gasped, gently sweeping away small wisps of hair that got in his way.

His hand cradling her jaw, he finally, finally, dipped his head until his lips were brushing over hers. Her eyes nearly rolled into the back of her head, overstimulated by months of need for him, her hand fisting his shirt whilst the other curled around the back of his neck. His hands cuffed her waist and kept her close, the tips of his fingers digging into the fleshy bits of her hips when she nudged open his mouth to slip her tongue into the hot confines of his.

The low groan he elicited forced one of her own from her throat, and then everything was escalating at a dizzying pace; their hands were roaming everywhere they could reach, exchanging nips and licks and everything inbetween until they were forced apart for air. Where she had wedged her thigh between his, she could feel the hard evidence of his arousal, and if it weren’t for the consequences she would have her way with him in the dirt and the grass. Thorn bushes be damned.

“We should probably take this somewhere else,” he whispered, winded, and she was happy that he wasn’t about to suggest they stop altogether.

She nodded before the last word was out. “Okay. What did you have in mind?”

Jon considered their surroundings carefully, then grabbed her hand.

_______

Their seatbelts were thrown off so hard, Dany was surprised they hadn’t accidentally shattered Jon’s car windows with the force. They’d snuck off into the parking lot and after a heady makeout session, Jon decided they ought to find somewhere a little more private, settling on a nearby park where the only source of light was several yards away.

The second he cut the engine they crashed together, pawing at one another until he dragged her over onto his lap. His hands molded to her ass, but the material of her dress made him growl with frustration that it didn’t allow him the access he desired, so he slid them beneath and his head smacked back against his headrest when he discovered she’d foregone panties with a groan between his teeth.

Dany moaned as his fingers kneaded her bare flesh, and she took advantage of the new exposure of skin down the column of his neck, trailing open-mouthed kisses and tiny bites where the collar of his dress shirts could mask.

Jon shifted his legs and bumped into the steering wheel with a crack. “Ouch, fuck,” he grumbled, and she realized their current position wasn’t very practical if they wanted things to go any further.

“Are you okay?” Dany asked against his clammy skin, reaching behind her to smooth her hand over the offended kneecap.

“More than,” he replied, curling his fingers around to her inner, upper thighs and making her tremble. He was so close to her cunt that she could feel his heat against it, and her forehead fell against his chest, her hips rocking to seek the friction she so desperately needed. But he never gave her it; in fact, he seemed keen on doing just the opposite, skimming his fingers just at the juncture, trailing them down the length of her thighs, squeezing her ass on the way up each time.

Even when she was left a writhing mess and kissed him savagely, popped open the first couple of buttons so she could get more of him, he still refused to touch her there.

For now.

Jon pulled at her bottom lip, his voice a low, husky whisper. “We’ll have more room in the back seat.”

“What are your intentions, Jon Snow?” She inquired with feigned innocence.

With a light smack to her bum, he chewed on his bottom lip. “Get back there and I’ll show you.”

It took some finagling, but soon enough they were in the more spacious back seats, and she quickly unstrapped her heels. Jon’s shoes were next, and then he was helping her out of her dress, carefully rolling it upward until it was off of her, leaving her completely exposed for his viewing. His arms froze in the air, her dress still clutched in his hands as he took her in. The light didn’t illuminate much, but it was enough to see one another clearly.

Since he was so enlightened by her breasts, she giggled and rose onto her knees, taking her dress and letting it drop to the floor whilst she assisted him in removing his suit jacket. Once that was shed, he instantly filled his palms with her breasts, his thumbs sweeping over her pebbled nipples. He was lucky she had enough strength to not buckle under his touch, her teeth capturing her bottom lip in a hasty endeavor to rid him entirely of his clothing so she could return the favor.

Then she stilled, a thought occurring to her. “Are you sure you want to do this in your car? It might get messy…,” she noted as he briefly ceased his fondling to work on shedding his pants, his dark eyes gleaming in the light.

Once he made quick work of them, his jacket was next in the pile they haphazardly tossed up front. “It’ll give me something to think about on my commute,” he rasped, and it took her a beat to understand what he meant, unable to bite back a grin. By now her cunt ached for him and they’d only just started getting things moving.

Her hands slid over his shoulders, taking his shirt with it, the play of dim light and shadows over his sculpted body making her mouth go dry and her tongue thick and heavy in her mouth. Jon shifted up higher to free his arms, her fingers skimming down his chest and over the ebbs of his abdomen, eyes falling to where his cock was straining and hard in the cotton of his boxer briefs. Without anymore delay, Dany slipped her hand beneath the waistband and curled her fingers around the rigid, hot skin, twisting lightly until he was sucking sharp breaths of air through his teeth.

In a flash, he shucked off his boxer briefs and hooked an arm around her waist, ravaging her mouth. As he pressed tighter against her, his thick length nestled between her thighs, sliding along her cunt and forcing her mouth to pop open with a heady moan.

"You're soaked," Jon whispered harshly, his other hand clutched her ass cheek to keep her stationary, his breaths short puffs over her face as he slowly teased the both of them with long, slow strokes of his cock until he was thoroughly coated with her, their clammy foreheads thumping together.

Dany gripped his lats with her hands, trying to be mindful that she didn't score his skin with her nails, but barely had half a mind to care. She rolled her hips with him, her entire body quivering when he dragged his cock over her clit. The sounds erupting from her seemed to drive him mad as he echoed her.

She chanced a glimpse down between the narrow gap between them each time he pulled away, her peak so near the edge already that the sight of his wet, shiny cock disappearing between her thighs had her nearly coming just there. "I need you, Jon," she whimpered, grateful that he was as desperate as she felt. Any other time she would gladly drag it on, but she'd waited long enough to have this with him, and she was far too impatient to wait a second longer.

Carefully, she was lowered onto her back. They shared a few soft chuckles as they tried to figure out the most comfortable position for the both of them. Finally, she settled one leg off and planted the tips of her toes on the floor, the other tossed over his shoulder, while he knelt one knee on the seat and held himself up with the other on the floor.

He allowed himself some time to take her in all sprawled out for him, dragging the soft pads of his fingers down the length of her body just as she did his earlier. His hands stopped to gently massage her breasts, which were beginning to heave with anticipation, and he traced every curve of her body.

Dany swallowed, cuffing her hands around his biceps as he lowered himself to kiss her softly. Lips locked together, he nudged hers open, drawing in her upper lip and suckling on it, one hand braced near her head whilst the other made her squirm as it explored her hips, her inner thighs, until he have her exactly what she was near begging for. He barely glanced over her juices and she was moaning so loudly she was glad they'd gone somewhere more private.

Jon sucked over the soft skin just below her jaw and circled her clit with the flat of his fingers, her legs about as strong as jelly, head pressing into the seat and back arching into his touch. Jon growled at how reactive she was, his lips and tongue leaving a tinging trail down to her chest, not stopping until he pulled a nipple into his mouth and made her a wiggling mess beneath him.

His fingers added a little more pressure, gathering more of her up and ticking up his pace. Dany's mouth was dry from how harshly her lungs were begging for air, stomach sucked in and muscles going taut with the stimulation.

When he plunged a finger into her heat, she gasped sharply, and he paused all movement. "You alright?" He asked sweetly, pecking the corner of her mouth.

Dany nodded frantically, lifting her hips to get him to move again. "I'm...I'm not gonna last much longer," she practically squeaked.

A devilish smirk took over his face. "I'd better get to work then," he declared, then made her pout as he lifted to his knees and stretched himself between the front seats, searching.

It didn't take long for it to click. "I'm on birth control," she told him, and she snorted at his visible relief.

He resumed his position and his head rolled back. "Thank the gods. Pretty sure they don't equip new cars with condoms and mine are all at the house."

Dany giggled and grabbed for him, wanting him closer. "Wait, this is a new car?" Now that she actually thought about it, it did have that lingering 'new car smell', but she'd been so preoccupied with his distinct scent and getting him naked that she didn't notice at first.

"Aye," he responded, nipping her neck, "everyone says cars are the worst investment, but…,” he laved his tongue over one of her nipples and made her groan, “I beg to differ."

Dany smiled with a hum and smoothed her foot over his leg, too pleased and distracted by his attentions to think of a witty retort. Instead, she responded by canting her hips and grinding over his cock, his forehead dropping between her breasts, his curly head lifting to see her out. He took himself in hand and pumped a few times before lining up, and drove home in one slide, making stars burst between her eyes and a cry out into the night air.

Jon’s face distorted with a muffled grunt, giving them both time to adjust. He blew out a few long breaths, but she was too needy and languidly rolled her hips, stretching her arms as far down as she could and filling each hand with his marble-soft cheeks, gently encouraging him to move. She was out of her mind delirious as he set a pace that had them each panting and sweating, the mechanics of his ass under the grip of her hands and the slight burn of his cock pumping from root to tip and filling her entirely.

His responding, wolfish grunt and groans spurred her on, and she could tell he was trying to be gallant and hold back, but by the way his muscles were tensed and his movements became erratic, plus the twisting of his beautiful face, he was ready to let go and she was ready to fall with him.

Dany tilted her hips so that he was grinding over her clit, which sent her in a restless frenzy below him, whimpering and moaning and squirming with the build. "Fuck," he breathed, eyes fixed on hers, his teeth clenching and jaw muscle flexing. Dany lifted her hand above her head and braced it against the door, the other carding through his hair. She gave a soft tug to his damp locks which he seemed to enjoy, if the way his hips were snapping against her was any indication.

“Jon…,” Dany warned, he throat constricting against any more words she thought to utter, but it was enough for him to understand, the corded lines of muscle prevalent in his arms as he steadied himself and ground into her, and she broke in fragmented gasps and pleas of his name, a second wave overwhelming her already tender body as he leapt right after her.

His head fell against her shoulder with throaty grunts and groans, thrusting and then stilling as he spent inside of her. It was music to her ears. Her arms weakly found him, securing themselves over his back and easing his tired body down onto hers. He went without protest, carrying the brunt of his weight on one knee so he didn’t entirely crush her,

Part of her foggy mind wished they'd waited the extra ten minutes and taken this back to one of their houses so they could sleep right then, but the other parts of it were too thrilled by the idea of just going for it. "How am I to get through the work day without wanting to lock you up in my office?” Dany mumbled against his shoulder, pressing a kiss thereafter.

A groggy huff left him, the warmth of his breath tickling up her neck. After a moment and finally evening his breaths, he lifted his head, several damp strands of springy black curls falling over his face. “I know of a few less populated conference rooms with far less windows that we could sneak off to,” he smirked, her hands lifting to smooth away some of his hair so she could get a better look at him. Then, his expression morphed into one of mock sternness. “To go over our presentations without interruptions, I mean.”

With one brow arched and a sleepy giggle, she asked, “and how long have you been dreaming of using said rooms for these particular “work” activities?”

Jon sucked air through his teeth. “Longer than I’d ever admit,” he confessed.

“Sounds like I ought to report you for indecent thoughts,” Dany muttered, her head rising to kiss him softly.

He sighed against her and thumbed away some hairs at her temple, speaking against her lips when he needed air. “S’pose we ought to get out of here before someone finds us and we get reported for public indecency.”

Dany nodded, a tiny motion, pecking his still-swollen lips. “Okay,” she whispered. He pulled out of her with a wince and when he sat up, she bit her lip, getting a fuller view of him. Or, as much as she could in the slightly cramped backseat of his car. He was too much to resist, and she was quickly snatching his shirt out of his hands before he could pull it on over his head. “Wait,” she said, straddling his lap and easing his frown as his hands slid up her ribs. She braced her hands on his shoulders, smiling devilishly while his pupils grew dark and fat with want. “Let’s do it again.”

#jonerys #jonerys fanfic #jonerys quote drabble unquote #to the other anon that sent me two prompts i promise i also didn't forget you #working on that one next!#my drabbles

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t-lostinworlds · 4 years

Text

Not Going Anywhere (Tom Holland)

a/n: finally! lmao. gosh, i haven’t posted a fic in a while and im scared lol. also, i’m sorry for the lack of fics recently, i’ll try and be better with it. anyway, i’m not going to babble any more asdfghjkl hope you guys enjoy this one!

pairing: tom holland x actress!reader warnings: emotional scene, blood (fake), gun shots (kinda fake), character death (very fake lmao), lots of crying, and tom just being a wholesome boyfriend. word count: 7.5k+ requested:

first off, thank you angel! 💓 you’re too sweet omg 🥺 requests are a bit tricky for me ‘cause it depends if i get inspo or not but i did with this one haha so second, i’m so sorry this took soooo long. i hope i did it justice and that you like it love!

masterlist on bio & pinned post

-:-:-:-:-

It was the last scene of the day but neither you nor Tom were too keen on it. Both of you read the script, of course you knew this was a long time coming. This scene has been sitting in the back of your heads from the moment you both decided to take on the roles but still, it never really does prepare you mentally no matter how much you try.

Death scenes are always tricky to shoot, depending on what the undertone is. It can be a slightly easy one, the death of an enemy in which you'd channel relief, pride, a sense of accomplishment—maybe even in a sadistic, evil sense, happiness and joy. Or it can go around the hard route, the death of someone you love. There are so many ways you could go about it, so many emotions you can tap into. You can have regret, guilt, hurt, sadness, anger, fear, loss, and the list goes on.

It would've been easier to act it out with a regular colleague or a friend, easier to separate from reality and to snap out of it when they call cut. It'd be less daunting if that was the case. But when it's done with someone who you love off screen, a person who you can't ever imagine a world without, to get your mind to a place where you'd have to picture losing them, then it gets even trickier, much, much harder.

Couples don't usually do movies together that often, it can become unprofessional as some would say, but that wasn't the case with you and Tom. Both of you have been praised so many times with your individual works as you two can stand alone and carry a role with nothing but award winning performances. But whenever you two share a screen together, then it's an even bigger force to be reckoned with.

It's always a director's dream to work with you individually and as a pair. You were a match made in heaven off and on screen, the one-take-wonder duo. You two just bounce off each other so well no matter the roles you play, may it be enemies, acquaintances, lovers, past lovers, co-workers, and so on. You two share a look and it all clicks, then everything just falls into place.

You two get it done right away in the right way.

You love working with Tom, love seeing him do his thing in the flesh and you enjoy watching all the breathtaking and raw performance he gives. Plus, you get to spend time with your man, a gift with how conflicting your schedules can get sometimes. Not to mention, you get to do what you love together, a fun time on set as you make the most out of it while staying at the top of your game, be each other's cheerleader while maintaining proper professionalism.

But when it's heavy and emotional scenes like this upcoming one, you do find yourself wishing that it wasn't with him.

"How do I look? Still gorgeous I hope," Tom joked the moment you entered the set, posing over dramatically with one hand on his head, the other on his jutted out hip and a duck face to match, sporting his dirt—with specks of blood—covered and torn outfit. What he wore was a white shirt, black pants, black boots and a gray coat combo. While you on the other hand, wore dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt, a gray zip up hoodie that was fully open and a black leather jacket over it.

On a normal day, his silliness would've made you roll your eyes with a laugh, but today, it didn't even manage to make you crack a smile. In fact, a frown made its way onto your lips at the sight of him all dirtied up, a purple bruise under his left eye, a couple gashes on his cheek and a cut on his bottom lip to complete his beat-up look.

"Stop trying to ruin my Zen," you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest with a pout on your lips. It was already dark inside your mind, emotions at the ready for when they call action. And seeing him be his dorky self, trying his best to make you laugh, just being the sweet boy who owns your heart, it wasn't at all helpful in a sense that with what's coming, it makes you think what life would be like if those adorable traits of his would become a memo—

"I'm not," Tom chuckled softly as he slowly made his way over to you. Once he reached a close proximity, his warm palm found its way to rest on your cheek. His touch was gentle, thumb caressing your skin comfortingly, a loving smile making its way onto his lip as he kept his gaze steady on your troubled face. "Just making sure you don't get too into your head, darling."

Tom's eyes held nothing but utter concern because he knows you like the back of his hand, knows how you work. With actors, it's always taxing mentally and emotionally when it comes to scenes like this, but with you, there's an added weight. Because, one, you always go that extra mile, to dig much deeper into your thoughts, to make your brain work harder at channeling emotions on command and in a quick switch. That's what made you known to be such an incredible actress, pure talent mixed with hard work of course.

And two, you were doing the scene with him, your real life lover. For you to see his face and watch him slowly wither away, Tom can't even stomach the thought of what you could possibly be feeling, what kind of thoughts were swimming inside your head. He can't even begin to imagine if it was the other way around. He absolutely admires your strength for holding it together because if it was him, he would've already been balling before he could even get out of his trailer.

With that said, Tom was worried to the bone. It always pains him to see the struggle you go through to get your mind there. He hates seeing you in a state that wasn't pure happiness, even if it was all acting.

"It's really hard not to," you whispered, flashing him a small smile as you leaned into his touch. Tom's heart broke at the soft shake in your voice, a sigh coming out of his lips as he moved closer to press it against your forehead. His strong arms found their way around your form to give you the warmest hug he can muster without getting all the dirt and the little bit of fake blood he had on him, on you.

"I know, angel, I know," he whispered against your skin, giving your waist a gentle and loving squeeze that made you close your eyes with a shaky breath.

Tom has had a fair share of tough, emotional scenes, of course he understood. Some of them were even done with you, though none were as tragic and heavy as to what lies ahead.

He knows how hard it is to not let those dark thoughts cloud most of your mind. He's been guilty of failing at it a couple of times. Some scenes just affected him in real life before he could stop it. Tom so badly didn't want you to experience the same. He doesn't want you to go far too deep for the sake of your mental state, especially with how much worse this scene is going to be compared to previous stuff you've done. But there's not much he can do other than to be there for you to help you get through it and to make sure to snap you out of it before it gets way out of hand.

"You two ready to go?" Jessica, the director, interrupted with a sympathetic smile. You unwillingly broke away from Tom's embrace to give her a small nod.

"Don't think I'll ever be ready but let's get this over and done with," you breathed out. She watched the two of you for a moment, the gloominess in the atmosphere too obvious for anyone to miss. It's always like that with emotional scenes, the set catered to help the actors be in the zone, but it's a lot heavier this time around. When it's a real life couple, the difference is huge.

With a soft, understanding smile, she reached over to you and gave your shoulder a squeeze. "Two more minutes and then we start." Jessica nodded at the both of you curtly. You and Tom flashed her grateful smiles to which she gladly returned.

Once she walked away, Tom's gaze landed back on you, slight dread and concern glowing in his eyes but a reassuring grin played on his lips. He was trying his best to stay calm about it, even though he wasn't looking forward to it as well. He just didn't want to add more to your already worrying mind by looking too frantic with his concern.

"Come here and give me one last kiss."

"Don't say it like that," you groaned, squeezing your eyes shut as his choice of words weren't exactly the best.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that, darling," Tom rushed once he realized how it sounded like, rubbing your arms comfortingly and giving it a gentle squeeze, silently urging you to look at him. Once you opened your eyes and met his gaze again, he tilted his head to the side with an adorable pout. "Can I have a kiss? Pwetty please?"

You shook your head at your man with a sigh, the corners of your lips lifting just a little as you met him halfway for a short but sweet, loving kiss.

"You've got this, okay?" he whispered once you pulled away, his breath hot against your lips as the tip of his nose nudged yours tenderly. You flashed him a small yet thankful smile, nodding in response before leaning close again to give him a quick peck.

"Places you two!" Jessica called out.

Tom's hands found yours, his fingers delicate as he lifted them up to his lips, a kiss on each of your knuckles and another reassuring squeeze before he lets you go.

You treaded your way towards your first marker, Tom's just a couple feet behind you. You looked over your shoulder in hopes to find his eyes before everything starts, a wash of relief coating your body once you saw that it was already set on you. You two shared a look, Tom flashing you one of his many charming grins—one that you adore so much—in reassurance, throwing in a thumbs up as he put his right foot forward. You did just the same, only breaking his gaze when you felt someone tap you on the shoulder.

You turned to one of the crew who handed you a Glock filled with blanks, a soft thanks escaping your lips followed by a deep intake of breath. You closed your eyes before exhaling slowly, clenching and unclenching your fist around the gun as you slowly slipped into character.

The two of you were undercover agents, partners turned recent lovers to be specific. The start of the scene was that you've just managed to get Tom out from his unfortunate capture, the abandoned warehouse where he was kept and you just escaped from, situated behind. You've managed to take out all the guys in the warehouse together but you have no idea if someone had called in backup so it was needed and safer to get as far away from the place as soon as possible. Hence why you two are going to be running from point A to B. But once you reach point B, then the scene happens.

"Ready and action!"

You took on a sprint, chest heaving as you kept looking back to make sure Tom was following. He was running just loosely behind you, a slight limp in his movements given that he isn't in the best of conditions due to the kidnapping.

"Come on!" You slowed down a little to wait for him, offering out a hand for him to take. He was so close to reaching it when his gaze shifted from your hand to somewhere behind you, eyes widening at the sight.

"Look out!" Tom exclaimed, hand quick to grab your outstretched one to pull you into his body. Both his arms wrapped around you tightly as he turned around in one swift motion so that your places were now switched. Then you heard five deafening gun shots, Tom's body jerking the same number of times before he slowly leaned forwards, his body getting heavier as his weight slowly rested more on you.

"No!" you shrieked, one hand wrapping around his torso as you lifted the other one hurriedly to aim your gun at the armed person behind him, pulling the trigger a couple of times to let loose of the blanks. You heard a thud next, an indication that the person has been taken care of.

Tom's whole body slumped, you struggling to hold his weight as he gradually slipped from your grasp, your heart beating rapidly against your chest when you felt something damp coat your fingers that were rested on his back. Your gaze landed on his face with wide eyes, calling out his character's name a few times as you tried your best to let him down on the pavement as gently as you can manage.

Tears welled up in your orbs, your throat closing up as you kneeled beside his body, anxiously checking to see what was wrong even though you already knew that everything was wrong. You took off your jacket hurriedly, bunching it up and placing it under his head for support. A sharp pain squeezed at your heart at the sight of him struggling to breathe, coughing out blood while he willed his eyes to stay open, his white shirt slowly turning crimson.

"No, no, no," you croaked, letting go of the gun to cup his face, fingers trembling as you tried to keep his head steady. Frantically, you reached into your pocket with your free, blood-covered, shaking hand, taking out the phone and hastily dialed zero to send out a distress signal.

Tom lets out a groan laced with pain as his eyes scanned your face, muttering out your character's name to get your attention, voice barely audible.

"Yeah, I'm here, I'm right here," you whispered as you met his brown orbs, a soft smile on your lips as you dropped the phone so you can tend to him with both hands. You brushed away the hair that managed to stick on his sweat-littered forehead, his blood from your hand tainting his crown, not the best of sights to see.

Tom's eyes started to gloss up as he kept letting out ragged breaths. You let out a broken sob as the heartrending sound filled up your ears, squeezing agonizingly at each vein in your heart. "S-Stay with me, please," you stammered, his skin turning a bit colder against your warm palm, your breathing turning shallow as you struggled to keep your own self together.

"Help! Please help!" you wailed, looking around the empty place frantically before your gaze landed back on the man in your arms, life slowly slipping from his grasp. "You're going to be okay," you repeated over and over, unsure if the words were said to reassure him or yourself.

The feeling of your jeans getting wet at the knees from the blood that pooled on the ground made you let out a broken cry of despair, eyes scanning his body for only a moment, the sight of red making you want to hurl. And you were too scared to look away from his eyes for far too long, scared that things will take a drastic turn in a split second.

Slowly, weakly, Tom lifted a hand up to cup your damp cheek, thumb caressing your skin as a small, tired smile made its way onto his lips. This made you cry even harder, your nimble fingers curling around his wrist, turning your head slightly for a second to give his palm a warm kiss.

"R-Remember when I-I said I'd t-take a bullet for y-you?" he sputtered, though the smile on his lips was still there, charming as always, his thumb capturing the tear that escaped your eye before it could have the chance to land on your skin.

You bit your bottom lip to suppress a whimper, shaking your head at his ability to make light of the situation. You let out a shaky breath. "I do, I remember. To prove how much I mean to you even when it's not necessary."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, running his thumb over your cheek, a few tears escaping his eyes as he scanned your gorgeous face distorted in utter distress, as he stared at the pain that glowed inside your beautiful orbs.

"N-No, there's nothing to apologize," you breathed out, your thumb grazing the apples of his cheeks as you stared right into those brown eyes you've grown to adore and more. "You saved me," you sobbed, flashing him a small smile laced with gratitude. "You saved me."

Tom nodded slowly with a hum, eyes staring right back at yours with the utmost adoration coating them, although in a few short seconds, it was quick to be replaced by worry. "You n-need to g-go," he hissed in pain, his hand grabbing your wrist to try and pry you away from him. It still wasn't safe to stay and he wanted nothing more than for you to be as far from harm, well and alive.

"No! I'm not leaving you here," you protested, a sob tied at the end of your sentence as you took his hand and placed it back on your cheek. And he held it there, channeling all the strength he had left for him to feel your skin for a couple moments more. "Help is on the way just, s-stay with me," you croaked.

Tom's breathing started to turn labored, his head falling back gradually as there was not much strength left for him to keep it still. "Hey! h-hey, look at me," you rushed, command in your tone as you went to hold his face with both hands, keeping his head steady only to see that his eyes were slowly fluttering close. "Keep those eyes open! Keep those eyes open," you said through gritted teeth, your man listening to your voice that was filled with desperation as he met your gaze again.

"P-Promise me—" Tom interrupted himself with a cough of blood, letting out a soft groan before his eyes were back on yours. "Promise me, y-you'll find h-happiness."

"N-no, don't say that, you're going to be okay." You shook your head desperately with a whimper.

"Promise me," he repeated, voice firmer this time.

Your bottom lip trembled. "I promise, just h-hold on, p-please," you choked. "Somebody! Please h-help! Please!" you yelled at the top of your lungs, urgently looking towards nothing, a sob following suit as your voice broke, hope slowly leaving you.

"H-hey, sweetheart, l-look at me," Tom called out as he tapped your cheek weakly. A whimper escaped your lips as you met his gaze once again, the emotion that shined in them so clear as day. He knows that it was time, and the certain look he was giving you made you understood. Although, you still shook your head in pure denial, muttering protests after protests under your breath as you gave his hand that rested on your cheek a tight squeeze while you kept the other steady on his face, horrified to let go even for a split second for he might be gone when you do.

"I love you," Tom breathed out, voice soft but the truth loud and clear. It was the first time he had uttered those three words, and you so wished it was done in a much, much more different circumstance. You leaned down to swiftly capture his lips in a bitter-sweet kiss, a sigh coming out of him only to be mirrored by a soft cry from you.

"I love you too, oh so much," you whispered to no one but him and him only, pulling away to meet his eyes, a certain glow now coating them at the sound of those lovely words filling up his ears. A satisfied smile made its way onto Tom's lips, his eyes locked with yours, glowing with utmost love.

But as Tom took in one deep, sharp breath, you held yours, only letting it out in a form of an excruciating sob once he completely stilled in your arms. His hand slowly slipped away from your face until it fell limp on his side, his chest laying flat, no more sign of any movement.

"No, no, no," you cried, tapping his cheek to get him to move again but to no avail. You shook your head frantically, your tears blurring your vision some more, heart in your throat as the droplets coated his face at a faster pace. "No! P-Please!" you screamed, cupping his face with trembling hands, letting go for a moment to hold his shoulder, shaking him harder in utter anguish. "C-Come back! P-Please! Come back to m-me." Your fingers found its way back to rest on his cheeks as you choked in short breaths, his eyes wide open but already dimmed, those bright, brown beautiful eyes somewhat turned gray.

"Don't leave me please," You croaked out, voice now hoarse from all the crying you've done. "I can't live without you. Please, come back to me," you whispered one last time, taking a few seconds more to stare at his face, looking at him as a flicker of hope coated your eyes for a split second before it completely died out. You dropped your head onto his chest and let out deep, broken sobs, choking in sharp breaths in between each sound that only made things more heart wrenching to hear.

It was so hard for Tom to keep his own tears at bay, a stinging, horrible feeling gripping at his chest as you cried your heart out. To watch the absolute hurt across your beautiful features, the desperation on trying to "bring him back" was too much of a painful sight to see. If he had a choice he would've opted on closing his eyes, but Jessica had specific instructions to keep them open, to make it more realistic, more effective in a sense that it would pull at the viewer's heartstrings a bit more.

But my God it was so hard to watch you be in so much pain and lay completely still, the heartbreaking sound of your sobs, the way you begged, it was absolute torture, especially when he can't do anything about it just yet. And the way your touch was frantic, desperate, it was hurting his heart harshly, agonizingly and he so badly wanted it to end because he can't take any more of just watching you go through so much pain. But most especially, he wanted it to end for your sake.

At the sound of your own cries, lungs burning with your head pounding, ears ringing, chest too tight and filled with utmost pain, you didn't even notice Jessica call out cut. The moment you knew it was all done was when you felt strong arms wrapping around your form that was still shaking with sobs.

"Hey, hey it's okay, it's over darling," Tom rushed as he sat up quickly, prying you away gently so you could meet his eyes. It broke his heart to pieces when he saw the hurt that still coated your orbs, though he was glad to see the relief slowly seeping back in once you blinked away the tears. You finally snapped out of it once you were able to take a good look at him, your bottom lip trembling as you tilted your head to the side, as if to examine if he was actually real. "I'm okay, see?" Tom hummed, voice gentle as he took both your hands and placed one on each of his cheeks, his skin warm against your touch. "I'm here my love."

All you could do was nod with a breath of relief, body falling forwards so you could sink into his arms, not a care in the world about the fake blood that drenched him. You just needed to be close to him.

Tom sighed as he pulled you tighter in his embrace, pressing his warm lip against your crown in the process. "Breath my darling angel, it's over," he murmured, followed by sweet nothings as his hand ran up and down your back comfortingly, your breathing slowly growing calmer at the tender sound of his voice.

You stayed like that on the ground for a minute, Tom only pulling away slightly when he heard footsteps approaching. "Do we need another take?" he asked dreadfully as he saw Jessica make her way over. He desperately didn't want you to go through that all again but it was out of his control. And if another take was needed, he's going to have to ask for an hour break, for your sake.

You lifted your head up just in time to see Jessica shake her head no, gesturing towards the both of you as satisfaction coated her face. "It's already the best for me. I mean, they call you two the one-take-wonder duo for a reason. And I've got tears in the crews' eyes to further prove my point." With a knowing look, she added, "But you two can watch it back if you like."

Tom turned to you, hand going up to wipe the couple more tears that littered your skin, touch sweet and reassuring. "Do you want to?" he asked softly.

You gave out a small nod. "Yeah, maybe I can do things better," you sniffled.

Tom scoffed loudly at that, gawking at you with wide eyes, taking full offence of your own words for you. "Are you kidding me? That was already amazing," he stressed. "Quit being so overly critical of yourself, darling," he added, taking both your hands in his comfortingly.

"Thank you bubba," you whispered, looking at him with an adorable pout, eyes glowing with the utmost gratitude that Tom felt his heart melt ten times over, especially with the nickname.

He flashed you a bright smile. "Now, let's get you off this wet floor." And that he did as he helped you up, pulling you in for another warm hug once you've got your feet under you.

Crew members quickly crowded you both as they helped you out of the now wet hoodie and coat, giving you each some water and two big, black warm jackets to compensate for the cold. You and Tom then made your way over to the director's chair right after.

You now stood beside Tom in front of the monitor as they started to play the clip back. Both your arms were fully wrapped around him, cheek pressed up against his chest as he slung his arm over your shoulder. His heart was turning soft at how adorable you were being, although he felt a sense of worry as well, since it seemed like you were scared to be too far away from him.

Even when they were fussing around the two of you, he saw how you kept giving him a glance, like you were scared to let him out of your sight. And once they were done, you were quick to grab his hand, as if you didn't want to feel the absence of his touch for far too long. So, he made sure to keep you as close as he can, giving you random kisses and squeezes in comfort from time to time, to reassure your mind that he was, in fact, here.

"Whew, look at you go," Tom praised, staring in pure awe at the monitor as he rewatched your performance, giving your arm a loving squeeze with a kiss on the forehead to match. "You make me look so talentless, love."

"Shut up," you said in pure disagreement given that his performance was breathtaking just as always. He did make things more real, made it hurt even more the way he portrayed dying so well. Your own performance improved because of his. As said in the beginning, you two just bounce off each other so well.

You peeked at the monitor for only short moments as you can't bear to watch it back fully, snuggling into him every once in a while with your eyes fluttering close. Tom was quick to notice this, giving you another peck on the forehead to remind you that it was okay, that things were alright. You hummed at his sweet gesture, squeezing his torso lovingly in return.

"Damn," Tom gushed once the clip ended, wiping away the stray tear that slipped with the back of his hand before turning to you with nothing but utter pride in his eyes. "And the Oscar goes to..."

"Stop," you whined, burying your face on his chest shyly, prompting a hearty chuckle from him.

"One-take-wonder duo I tell you," Jessica admired, giving you both claps on the back before she lifted up her megaphone. "That's a wrap everyone!"

Loud cheers and applause filled the air, Tom giving you a tight, warm hug as you both slowly relaxed in each other's embrace, glad that the day was almost over. You then made your way to where your teams were sat. Both of you were quick to notice how most of them were smiling proudly at the two of you with a bit of shine in their eyes.

"Harry," Tom gasped as soon as his brother came into view, Harry's face red with a faint sniffle coming out of him. "Were you crying?"

"No," the young lad grumbled, turning away in hopes to hide the way he wiped his face but still failing miserably.

"Oh Harry come here," Tom lets go of you for a moment to tackle his brother in a bear hug, making smooching noises as the older sibling tried to give the other a kiss on the cheek, Harry squirming like his life depended on it. You couldn't help the soft laugh from escaping your lips at the sight of the two boys, Tom's head perking up at the sound, a bit of relief coating his features as he tilted his head at you with a smile of his own.

"Get off you div," Harry groaned, pushing Tom away playfully, the older lad laughing before pulling away from him. "It's not my fault you two made it look so real. I genuinely thought Tom died for a second."

"Aw, thanks bro—"

"Correction, Y/N made it so real. The moment you started crying," Harry paused, blowing out his cheeks with a shake of his head, turning to you with both hands up in surrender. "I went."

"Thank you Harry." You shot the young lad a tired but grateful smile, giving him a quick but lovely hug.

"I'll let that pass for now because I do agree," Tom said, shooting his brother a playful glare before he made his way back to you, arms taking home around your waist as he looked at you adoringly. "You were incredible my love."

You smiled at him, leaning closer so you could give him a sweet kiss, just to show more of your gratitude. Tom hummed in pure satisfaction against your lips, giving your waist a tender squeeze before pulling away.

"Let's wrap up the day shall we?"

With that, the two of you made your way over to the wardrobe trailers to get out of the dirty work clothes and into comfier ones. Once out of the trailer, you now wore a pair of black leggings and Tom's pink hoodie to which he insisted on letting you wear over your tank top, given that it was starting to get colder out. He, on the other hand, wore his black sweatpants and a tight maroon t-shirt, handsome as ever but the make up on his face—the bruises, cuts, fake blood—were a bit of a distraction, feeding more thoughts to your still troubled mind.

"Come here, love." Tom beckoned you over once he noticed how you stared at him with a certain look in your eyes and a matching frown. His warm hands found yours, pulling you closer to him so he can give you loving kisses all over your face, all sloppy, loud and sweet. He only stopped when he was satisfied with the little giggles that escaped your lips. "Stop thinking too much, darling."

You flashed him a smile, nodding to say that you understood. "Are you not cold?" you asked in concern, slight guilt swimming in your orbs given that you somewhat stole his hoodie. Tom chuckled with a shake of his head, slinging his arm over your shoulder to pull you closer to his side as you then made your way to the make-up trailers.

"As long you're here beside me? My human heater? Never."

***

It was finally time to get back to the hotel.

You and Tom sat at the very back of the van, your head rested on his shoulder while his head rested atop of yours. You've been nothing but silent the whole ride, Tom not pestering you much because he knows you were drained to the bone. He just gave you occasional squeezes on the thigh, his fingers sometimes drumming some random beat just to distract you a little for what was going on inside your mind.

The moment your shared hotel room door closed, lock clicking in the process, Tom dropped your bags on the floor with the loudest sigh of relief.

"Shower together?" Tom offered with a wriggle of his brows, jokingly of course as there was no malice in his intent. You both were too tired for it, a simple shower would suffice.

A sweet smile made its way onto your lips as you nodded, taking up on his offer.

Tom moved over to you to give you a short kiss, mumbling a 'wait here' against your lips before pulling away and disappearing into the bathroom. He came back out not long after sporting nothing but his black boxers, beckoning you over with an open palm to which you gladly took. Hot steam met your skin as you stepped inside the en suite, Tom stopping by the sink as he turned to face you.

"Arms up," he said, your brows furrowing in confusion but you did as told anyway. Once you have both hands in the air, Tom took hold of the hem of your—his—hoodie and lifted it up your body, a pout making its way onto your lips once it was off. He gave your jutted out lip a peck, chuckling at the slight confusion on your face before he went to take your tank top off next.

"I'm not a baby anymore Tom. And I didn't lose any limbs," you pointed out with a soft giggle, top-half now naked in front of him

"Says who? As far as I know, you're still my baby." He shrugged, hooking his fingers on the hem of your leggings and pulling them down—along with your underwear—until he was squatted on the floor. He tapped your thigh lightly, silently telling you to lift each leg up one by one so he can take off the fabric fully. Now, you were left completely bare for him. You looked down at your man and shot him a pointed look, Tom meeting your gaze through his eyelashes as he lets out a sweet chuckle.

"Just let me take care of you love, you've had a long day," he hummed, giving each of your thighs a chaste kiss before he stood back up to his full height. He just wanted to let other things occupy your mind instead, didn't want you to sit too long and think about the scene you just did. Plus, he really did want to just take care of you, to show you the utmost love and affection as you deserve nothing but all and more, especially after today.

Another sweet kiss landed on your lips before he got rid of his boxers next, taking your hand soon after as he guided you inside the glass shower box, pulling you right under the hot water. And take care of you was exactly what he did as he helped you wash up as well. You've told him a couple of times how he was being a bit much, especially when he stole the loofa off your hands to do it himself, shampooed and conditioned your hair. But he simply repeated the same thing over and over:

"Just let me take care of you."

A few more giggles and chuckles with a couple sprinkles of making-out later, you two got out of the shower and dried up. Then after that, Tom gave you one of his shirts to wear—paired with only your panties—and helped you blow dry your hair so you could take a quick nap, an easy breezy task for him since it was not the first time. He's done it before on various occasions.

Once you were soundlessly asleep—after a few more kisses from him as he tucked you in because yes, your boyfriend is extra—Tom took it upon himself to order in some food, that way you'd have something to eat when you wake up, knowing that you probably wouldn't want to go anywhere to have a meal. He sent Harry a text in the process saying that the two of you would be staying in for the night in case the team wanted to go out for dinner.

In his gray sweats and white t-shirt, Tom sat down on the couch right by the window near your side of the bed, pulling out his computer to get a bit of work done while he waits. He didn't want to risk waking you up by slipping in beside you, didn't want to disturb your blissful sleep.

He kept giving you glances from time to time, just to check up on you, his heart growing bigger whenever he does so. Warmth just spreads across his chest each time he sees your beautiful face with nothing but slumber and peace coating your features.

The food arrived about thirty minutes later, Tom setting his laptop down to open the door, room service strolling in with fresh and hot food. He closed the door after he tipped the guy generously, walking over to the table to take some chips off the plate, humming at the wonderful taste.

Opting on letting you sleep for a couple minutes more, Tom went back over to the couch. But just as he was about to sit back down, he heard you let out a troubled groan in your sleep. Surely enough when his gaze landed on you, your face was now contorted in pure distress, brows knitted together as you shifted on the bed, one hand desperately clinging on the pillow while the other on the white sheets.

"Tom!" you yelped and bolted straight up, eyes frantic and chest heaving as you looked around the room for him.

"Hey! Hey." Tom was by your side in an instant, the bed dipping as he sat down, his hands cupping your face gently to make you look at him straight in the eyes. "Darling, hi, I'm here," he whispered with a sweet smile, heart aching at the sight of fear and the fresh sets of tears that now coated your eyes.

Your bottom lip trembled as you stared at him for a couple seconds, moving closer towards him so you could bury yourself in his arms. "I'm sorry," you mumbled against his chest, both your arms wrapping around his torso as you let out uneven, shaky breaths.

"Nothing to apologise for angel. It was just a nightmare," he murmured, rubbing your back sweetly as he swayed you side to side. "It's okay, you're okay." He held you like that for as long as you needed, whispering sweet nothings into your ear in hopes that it'll help you calm down. Tom only loosened his hold around when you softly pulled away, breathing now calmer, sniffling close to none.

"Want to watch a movie while we eat? The chips are really good," he said, both hands now holding your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks tenderly as he wiped away the little tears that sat on your skin. "Spider-Man: Far From Home so we can nitpick and criticize my performance together?" he added jokingly, earning a soft giggle from you as you nodded.

With half of the food gone, you were well into fifteen minutes of the movie. There were a couple of pauses done of course. Now you were snuggled up cozily beside him, your head on his chest as he rested his back against the stacked pillows. He had one arm over your shoulder to keep you close, fingers grazing up and down your arm soothingly while his eyes were set on the screen in front, his warmth comforting you in more ways than one.

The whole pole sequence in Venice was when he felt you start to shift in his arms, a shaky breath coming out of you when you saw him hit that wall as he got drenched in water. And then you spoke,

"Tom, what if—"

"Stop it right now and don't even finish your sentence," he scolded, already knowing where you were going with this. You pulled away from his embrace and sat up straighter just so you could have a full look at him, a deep frown already on your lips.

"You do your own stunts," was all that you said, but Tom already knew what you meant by it, didn't need you to explain further.

With a sigh, he sat up as well, touch tender as he ran it up and down your arms. "Darling, I am being careful with the stunts, you know that. And when it's something too dangerous, you also know that I refuse to do it," he said. "Plus, you're right there to stop me when I'm pushing myself too hard. You're looking out for me too, my love."

Even though you gave him a nod, Tom saw how that still didn't ease your mind, saw it clear in your eyes. He couldn't blame you either knowing how that scene made you think the worse of thoughts. He understood you completely, knowing that if the roles were switched, he would be behaving just the same if not much worse with how overprotective he is of you. He'd probably wrap you in a bubble to be honest, to make sure you're as far away from harm as possible and that nothing was going to happen to you.

"Come here," he hummed, taking your hands and pulling you close until you were straddling his lap, giving your fingers warm kisses before he placed them, flat against his cheeks. Tom's warm palms found their way under his shirt that you wore, settling his hands right on your waist, his thumb running over the swell of your belly fondly, skin touching skin, makes you feel much closer to him.

Tom gaped up at you with nothing but absolute love in his eyes, a glow that's made your heart grow warmer, a look that's added more sincerity to his words. "Nothing's going to happen to me okay? You're going to be stuck with this very handsome face for a long, long time."

You giggled at that, dipping your head so you could capture his lips in a kiss filled with the rawest of emotions from gratitude, happiness, adoration, passion, love. Tom didn't need words for him to know that you were thankful for him, that you were so happy to have him in your life, he can already feel it. Your actions will always speak louder volumes, justifying all the emotions you needed to get across that simple words never could.

With a satisfied groan, Tom pulled you even closer, his hands snaking up your bare back, your shirt hiking up at his action. He felt up your warm skin deliberately, touch driven with passion as he nibbled on your bottom lip, wanting to taste more of you. You happily obliged with a soft moan, your fingers treading through his slightly damp curls as you welcomed him in. And Tom made his presence known through his touch, to remind you that he is here with you, that he will always be here, and that he is—

"Not going anywhere."

-:-:-:-:-

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