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darlinvandijk · 5 years

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Thrift Shop

Concept: request where “Ruel cleaning out his closet and accidentally giving his favorite hoodie (some limited edition shit) to a local thrift shop. Then one day he sees you in *that* hoodie and politely asks you if he could have it back. you have no idea who he is, but after some time, you get to know him better, and catch some feelings.” Dm me and whatnot for requests and I’ll be happy to comply! (This is really fucking long lol) I hope you enjoy :)

I slowly walk through the rows of clothing in my absolute favorite thrift shop, letting my fingers graze against the clothes, feeling all of the different textures and fabrics. I came here to buy a suede skirt for my mother’s annual Holiday party, but so far I have about 5 pieces of clothing and a hat, a hat that I’ll probably never wear. I’m strolling through the men’s section, trying to make my way across the store to dresses, when my eyes catch a muted reddish brown crewneck. I pull out the sweater, eyeing the “Holy Spirit” black writing across the front of it, before ultimately deciding its going to be added to my ever growing pile of clothes. I finally get everything I need, go up to the register, and pull out my card to pay for everything I impulsively bought. The cashier, who’s gotten to know me and become one of my best friends over the last few months of me always being here, looks at my stuff and sends me a small smile, before looking at the sweater and grinning.

“We actually just got this one in today, you should have seen the guy that donated it” he muses, folding everything up and placing it into a bag for me. I raise an eyebrow at him, intrigued by what he found so interesting about the mystery donor. He watches my expression and lets out a chuckle.

“Jake you have to tell me now, what was so great about him?” I question curiously, wanting to know why my friend had such a mischievous smile on his face. He passes me the bag and receipt before dramatically leaning on the counter and letting out a sigh, throwing his head back for effect.

“Sweets he was the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, like he could take me anywhere and anytime, and honestly definitely your type” Jake draws out, causing me to choke on air before laughing. I let him fan himself dramatically for a couple more seconds before rolling my eyes and laughing at my dramatic but great friend.

“Okay jake if you’re done losing your shit, I shall be on my way. Don’t forget this weekend though, you and Ali are supposed to bring the snacks since I’m hosting movie night” I remind him, about the deal our friend group made for our weekly movie night, completely ignoring his fascination over the unknown guy. He nods his head and waves bye as I make my way out of the store and back to my apartment, thinking about how I can put all my new clothes to use. ———

It’s been a few days since I went thrifting and today I decided to finally head out to the shops, wearing my new favorite sweater. I paired the Holy Spirit sweater with a pair of shorts and some black vans, before deciding the outfit was decent enough to be out in public in.

I make it to the shops and stroll around, looking at the setups in the windows, the different cafes and pastry shops, and all the various stores just begging me to spend my money there. I decide to make a quick stop at a cute little pastry place, sitting outside with my drink and chocolate croissant. As I sit outside at one of the tables enjoying the nice weather and hearing the chatter of the families strolling around, I feel someone tap my shoulder. I turn around in my seat, coming face to face with someone’s stomach, before having to completely tilt my head back in order to make eye contact with the random but extremely tall stranger. I freeze a little upon making eye contact with the gorgeous green eyed male, before throwing him a confused look since he obviously had something to say.

“Hey I hope I’m not bothering you, but uh this might be weird, like really weird actually, but uhm can I ask you a question? Did you thrift that sweater?” He asks with a crooked nervous smile, looking me over, spending a little bit longer on my sweater before looking back into my eyes. I slightly blush at his unwavering gaze at me, from not only being put on the spot, but from being flustered by the attention of such an attractive guy. I then take in the question he asked, becoming perpelxed that he came all the way up to me to ask about the very worn out sweater.

“Yeah? Why?” I question, throwing him a small smile, not wanting to come off too awkward or blunt to him. He gives me a boyish one back before taking another long look at my sweater, nervously wringing his hands in front of him, and slightly shifiting from foot to foot. I catch on to his anxious behavior and motion to the seat in front of me, blushing at the smile he throws me before taking the seat. He takes a deep breath before looking me in the eyes with an apprehensive expression.

“Can I have that sweater?” He blurts out completely catching me off guard, while also catching himself off guard by the apparent blush that rises to his cheeks. I stare at him with my mouth partially opened, unsure on what to say to his abrupt question. Like I barely know the guy, he might be attractive but I’m not going to strip right here for him to have this sweater. I slightly tilt my head to the side as I watch him let out a groan and cover his face with his hands.

“So I don’t know you and honestly have no clue what to say. Like well no, because I don’t have another shirt to wear, and also no because I bought it and don’t usually give my clothes to random people? Like I’m not about to strip here for a random guy?” I slowly speak, trying to figure out how to reply to him, still confused by this whole situation. He takes a deep breath at my answer before running a hand through his hair, causing my breathing to stutter for a second. He looks up at me and throws me a smirk, catching on to my reaction, making my face instantly heat up.

“That wasn’t the way I was going to ask, it just came out, but like please I’ll do anything to get that sweater back, I’ll even go buy you a new shirt right now ” the boy pleads, with big round eyes and a slightly pouted bottom lip. He pulls out a wallet and sets it on the table, giving me a look of pure desperation. I honestly have no clue what this guys deal is with this sweater, like did he say he wanted it back when I never took it from him in the first place?

“You want it back? But like I don’t know you so there’s no way I took it from you” I explain watching him bounce his leg anxiously, biting at his bottom lip. He starts to turn pink, seeming almost embarrassed to explain his situation with my sweater.

“Here’s the thing, I donated a lot to the thrift store, but I had no clue that my favorite sweater got put into the pile. Like that sweater is really valuable and also has a lot of sentimental value to me. I’ll pay you for it if that’s what it takes” he rushes out, eyes locked on the sweater, before looking at me with a nervous look. I look at the sweater, then to his wallet, then back to him, before deciding what my final decision is.

“I don’t know you at all, like I don’t even know your name, so I feel weird on giving you something I just bought, but I also don’t want to take your money. Why don’t we get to like know each other and then I can decide on if i believe the story and if I’ll give you the sweater” I reason, watching a grin blossom across his face at my words, before nodding his head vigorously, making me throw my head back and laugh at his excitement.

“Deal, how about we start with something simple. My names Ruel, what’s yours?” He asks, with a sincere look of genuine interest as he waits for my reply, I smile before holding my hand out, ready to finally introduce myself to the beautiful guy in front of me. ———

“You’re kidding me? There’s no way that’s true” I snort out, watching Ruel give me an incredulous look from his spot on my couch. He scoffs as he looks at me, throwing me a betrayed glare, trying his hardest to not smile. It’s been two months since I met him on that fateful sunny day, two months of inside jokes and shared stories, and I couldn’t be more grateful to have him in my life.

“For you information it IS true, I met Tyler and literally ran away from him after introducing myself, I was too nervous” he explains, laughing at the look I give him, before seating myself next to him, handing him his takeout container, both of us getting ready to binge on some Netflix movies, like we usually do on each other’s free days. He sends me a small smile and grabs a blanket, pulling it over the both of us, saying it’s protection from the cold and possible falling noodles if we drop any. We enjoy each other’s company in silence, with comments every now and then, our food finished with only the empty cartons on the coffee table, when he makes a move leaving me completely flustered.

He shifts a little, his left side completely pressed against my right side now, before setting an arm on the back of the couch, slowly moving it down until it rests upon my shoulders. I look up at him to see him already watching me, his green doe eyes and rosy cheeks waiting for my reaction, before I softly smile and turn to rest my back against his chest. He lets out a quiet chuckle, moving his arm down to wrap around my waist, holding me as we watch the rest of Spider-Man. This is the first time he’s made a move on me like this, like yeah we’ve had our moments of flirting and being a little touchy, but he’s never genuinely made a move. I smile as I think about how he might like me, the way I’ve grown to like him, shocked that he wasn’t just being friendly during all those fleeting touches we’ve shared. Shocked that maybe the feelings were mutual.

As the movie comes to an end, I notice the way our position has changed throughout it, at some point we must’ve shifted because I’m currently resting on his chest as he lays down across the couch. His hands rest on my back, one resting on my bare skin underneath my sweater, the sweater that actually made this whole friendship possible. He shifts once the final credits start to roll, sitting up and pulling me with him. I make a move to get off his lap, but he places his hands on my hips and holds me in place. He gives me a nervous grin, much like the one he gave when we first met, and reaches up to move some of my hair behind my ear. He lets his hand linger against my cheek for a second, before putting it back onto my hip.

“So I don’t know how to say this.. because I truly value our friendship and would hate to fuck it up.” He spits out, breaking the silence with his anxious statement. I give him a small smile, lifting a hand timidly to smooth out the wrinkles forming between his eyebrows. He stops furrowing them and just watches as I lay my hand against his cheek, feeling it heat up instantly.

“I don’t think anything you say can ruin our friendship, just go ahead and say it” I softly tell him, hoping to ease up any of the nervousness he feels, starting to get anxious myself on what has him so shy all of a sudden. He nods his head and take a deep breath, before looking up into my eyes and giving me the cute boyish grin I’ve come to love. I start to blush under his gaze, not being able to read the emotion that’s filling his eyes.

“I really like you, like I mean really fucking like you. I get it if it’s not reciprocated, we can just pretend this never happened, but I just needed to tell you. I’m really falling for you” Ruel whispers out, looking away from my eyes, too scared to see the look on my face. I can feel his hands shaking as they hold my hips, filled with fear of rejection. I stop breathing for a second, not being able to comprehend that he actually likes me in a way as more than friends. I let out a quiet laugh watching his eyes snap to mine in confusion, before I throw my arms around his neck, and hold him as tight as I can.

“I’m falling for you too” I softly whisper out, my face still pressed into the crook of his neck. I feel his body shake as he lets out a laugh of pure happiness, completely elated that he not only didn’t ruin a friendship, but that his feelings were wholeheartedly shared. We sit in silence for a little bit, just enjoying the peace and happiness filling the air around us. He pulls back so he can see my face, glancing down at my lips and the back to my eyes, slowly leaning in before connecting our lips in a soft yet sweet kiss. He pulls away and rests his forehead against mine, leaning in to place a few chaste kisses, causing me to let out a laugh. I watch his eyes light up in awe upon hearing the gleeful laugh leave my mouth, happy that he’s the one making me so happy.

“Sooo does this make you my girlfriend?” He asks slowly, not too sure where to go next after making the main move. I give him a smirk, laughing at the way he instantly becomes weary at my expression.

“Hmmm no” I sarcastically reply, watching his eyes widen before they form into a glare, catching on to my underlying sarcasm. He scoffs and instantly tackles me into the couch, landing on top of me and pressing kisses all over my face, making me shriek out at the sudden attack. He pulls away a little so that his face hovers above mine, giving me the softest smile before leaning down and pressing his lips to the tip of my nose. We smile at each other, both of us mentally agreeing that this is the start of our relationship. ———

“Hey baby, can I ask you something?” Ruel asks anxiously from my kitchen, where he’s currently on the search for the Cheetos he left here. I glance up from my place on the couch, waiting for him to go on with whatever his question is, before finally coming to the conclusion that I’ll need to verbally reply before he can finally spit out his question.

“Yeah?” I question, throwing him a small smile, not wanting to make my poor boyfriend even more nervous than he already was. He gives me a boyish one back before taking another long look at my sweater, nervously wringing his hands in front of him, and slightly shifiting from foot to foot. I catch on to his anxious behavior and motion to the seat next to me, blushing at the beautiful smile he throws me before taking the seat. He takes a deep breath before looking me in the eyes with an apprehensive expression. As I look at him I feel a strange sense of deja vu, almost like this had happened before.

“Can I have that sweater?” He blurts out completely catching me off guard, while also catching himself of guard by the apparent blush that rises to his cheeks. I stare at him with my mouth partially opened, unsure on what to say to my idiot of a boyfriend. Like he might be attractive but I’m not going to strip right now just for him to have this sweater back. I slightly tilt my head to the side as I watch him let out a groan and cover his face with his hands.

“Sorry I don’t give clothes to random people” I jokingly reply, watching the look of realization cross his face. He walks over to the couch and lifts me up, placing me on top of his lap with a sly grin. I wearily watch him, completely unsure on what his next move will be, he’s literally so unpredictable. He leans forward and gives me a kiss, sliding his hands under my sweater, and letting them roam across my skin. As the kiss becomes heated, I notice the way his hands seem to be less touchy and more focused on the sweater. I instantly pull away from Ruel and send him a glare, catching on to his sneaky little plan.

“Ruel you asshole, did you only kiss me right now to try and get the sweater off me?” I snap out, watching the guilty grin that spreads across his face. He laughs as I continue to glare at him, placing his hands on my waist and rubbing soft circles into my skin, enveloping me in warmth with his touch. I continue to glare at him, not wanting to let him off the hook so fast, even though I can already feel my stubbornness melting away.

“You had told me that you wouldn’t strip for a random guy, but I’m not random anymore baby. You’re looking at your boyfriend who is kindly pleading with you to give it back, I’ll even give you a different sweater of mine or even take you to buy a new sweater” He pleads, watching the look of mischief cross over my face at his words. He lets out a groan, realizing he just practically made a deal with the devil himself. I excitedly flash him a grin, feeling my cheeks heat up in pure excitement for what’s to come.

“Time to go to the Thrift Shop” I screech out in glee, causing Ruel to instantly press his face against my chest in defeat. I mean it’s his fault really, maybe he should double check piles before donating.

#ruelvincentvandijk #ruel van dijk #one ruel #ruel #ruel one shot #ruel imagines #ruel imagine #imagine #imagines #one shot #x reader #free time ep #ruel fanfic

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angelic-holland · 5 years

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Stay At My Place // th x fem!reader

Miss Yer Kiss Part Two

Feel free to read Miss Yer Kiss! Feel free to leave comments or asks with feedback!

Warnings: smut, feelings, actual plot this time, nsfw, 18+ please

Word Count: 12k

Tom checked Instagram the next day, including your page. He was laying in his bed when he clicked your story. He gasped when he saw what was a spitting image of himself in pencil. He took a screenshot of it and almost posted it to his story but decided not to.

He remembered what you told him.

“Let’s agree on one thing. This is a one night stand, that’s it.”

He didn’t want it to be a one night stand. He’s had his share of one night stands, sure. But there was something different about you. Maybe it was your confidence, maybe it was the way you didn’t even care enough to leave your phone number. Maybe it was your tattoos and how he wanted to hear the story behind each and every one of them.

He decided to wait, see if you would DM him since you set out the “only a one night stand” pact.

He heard his doorbell ring and he got out of bed, he checked his phone, who was at his place at 10:30 at night?

He jogged down the stairs, opening the door.

“Hey mate,” Harry says, pushing his way inside.

“What’s up? Were you planning on coming over?”

“Nah last minute decision,” Harry says, walking up the stairs, Tom following.

“Okay, what’s up?”

“Is she still here?”

“Who?”

“The girl you left the club with last night.”

“No she’s gone,” Tom frowns.

Harry flops down on the sofa, “oh good.”

“Why?”

“You’ve never been caught mid hook up before, by the paps I mean, mom almost had a fucking heart attack when she saw the pictures of you leaving the restroom of the club.”

“Wait why?”

“Cause she doesn’t know about your other hookups, she also wasn’t expecting pictures of her son with lipstick marks and sex hair leaving a fucking club bathroom.”

“We didn’t fuck in there.”

“Sure you didn’t.”

“Not like, not full sex, fuck off it doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, like the stories of people hearing her scream your name aren’t important.”

“Harry! Can it, not like it matters now.”

“Yeah? Do you even remember her name?”

“Course I do, it’s Y/N.”

He smiles, remembering how you made him work for it.

“Stop thinking about it you perv,” Harry says, tossing a pillow at Tom as he sits down.

“Shut up, she only wanted a one night stand so I’m gonna respect that.”

“Sure.”

“What?”

“You always catch up with them after the ‘one night stand’ and see if they want to go on a date, hook up again. It’s your thing.”

“My thing?” Tom scoffs, crossing his arms.

“Yeah.”

“Well whatever if she wants to talk to me she can DM me on Instagram or something.”

“No she can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because you get legit thousands of DMs a day, probably more, you wouldn’t be able to see it.”

“I could search for it? Would that work?”

“Maybe.”

***

You’re lying in bed, suitcase packed for the flight you’ve got early tomorrow. You sigh, pulling out your phone. You know what you said. You know you should just forget about the possibility of seeing Tom again. Of interacting with him again. But you couldn’t get that night out of your head.

“It’s beautiful out,” you say, exhaling the smoke from your lungs.

“Not as-,”

“I swear if you finish that sentence I’ll leave right now,” you groan.

“Okay! I won’t, just, you look so pretty, the moon really lights up your tattoos, they look good.”

Any of your hook ups, you weren’t used to them complimenting you if that compliment wasn’t about loving your tits or something stupid. They never called you beautiful, like Tom was about to. Or pretty. You opened your Instagram, you decided the other day to post the picture you drew of Tom, even going so far as to tag him. Your eyes almost fell out of your head when you saw he liked the post.

Maybe, maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea to send him a message, he’d have a hard time finding it anyways with the probably hundreds of thousands of messages he gets.

You quickly send him a DM.

yourinstagramhandle: thanks for the like, you like the drawing?

You roll your eyes and send a text to Bryce, asking if he wants to go to your graduation.

You go back to Instagram and see you’ve got a DM from none other than Tom.

What the fuck.

***

“wait! She DMed me, holy shit,” Tom says, opening it.

He smiles and responds.

tomholland2013: thought it was okay

tomholland2013: I’m kidding I thought it was great

Yourinstagramhandle: well thanks

Tomholland2013: didn’t think I’d hear from you again

Yourinstagramhandle: almost didn’t DM you but decided I need validation

Tomholland2013: the sex or the drawing?

Yourinstagramhandle: you caught me… both

tomholland2013: well the sex was so good I want to see you again so there’s that. And the portrait is so good I want you to tattoo it on me

Yourinstagramhandle: well damn I’ll take it. Not a tattoo artist yet though, and getting a portrait of yourself tattooed, little self centered don’t you think?

Tomholland2013: just a tad bit.

Tomholland2013: are you still in town?

Yourinstagramhandle: leaving bright and early tomorrow for NYC

Tomholland2013: come over

Yourinstagramhandle: I can’t, I’ll be too busy giving you the time of your life I’ll miss my flight

Tomholland2013: that’s not necessarily a bad thing

Yourinstagramhandle: it is when I’ve got school, finals in two weeks and then I need to beg for a tattoo apprenticeship

Tomholland2013: they’ll be begging you to be their apprentice

Yourinstagramhandle: totally not how it works

Tomholland2013: I fly by New York end of May, can I see you then?

Yourinstagramhandle: sure you won’t have forgotten about me by then?

Tomholland2013: no, already miss your sex, don’t know how I’m gonna go two months without it

Yourinstagramhandle: we could always be horny teenagers and sext. Wanna see my tits?

Tomholland2013: right now?

Yourinstagramhandle: no in two months, yes right now

Tomholland2013: fuck yeah

Tomholland2013: wait send me ur phone number I don’t wanna accidentally save them and have them end up on my Instagram story or something

Yourinstagramhandle: not very good with technology?

Tomholland2013: nope

***

You giggle, pulling off your shirt, you weren’t wearing a bra, so you just waited for him to text you.

Unknown number: Y/N?

You: the one and only

Tom: great now show me your tits

You: I better get a picture of your hard cock immediately following

Tom: my brothers here!

You: kick him out or go to your room, my tits look pretty great right now

Tom: please send them, told him to get lost

You: where are you right now?

Tom: couch

You: take your cock out, play with it a little bit

You position yourself in front of the mirror, pinching your nipples a little so they harden before taking a picture and sending it to him.

Tom: holy fuck, missed ur tits so much

You: I’m waiting

You quickly strip your sweatpants and now soaked panties, laying back on the bed.

You groan at the picture he sends, his hard cock in his hand, thighs spread on his couch.

Tom: can I call u

You: Patience baby, one step at a time. Let’s just sext for now

You can practically hear his whine but you wouldn’t answer his call even if he did. You loved teasing him.

Tom: fuck, send me a picture of your pussy

You: why should I?

Tom: please, know you’re probably dripping for me, come on, lemme see it

You smirk, your fingers moving to lazily move through your folds, gently slipping into your hole, you take a few pics, choosing the best one to send to Tom.

Tom: holy fuck, you sure I can’t come over? Wanna eat your pussy so good

Although you’d love that, you knew it wasn’t possible. You sighed, responding to him as your thumb gently rubbed your clit.

You: positive, now be a good boy and jerk your cock for me until you make a mess

You smile, putting your phone down and fucking yourself down on your fingers.

****

“Shit,” Tom groaned, reading your text before his hand sped up. He closed his eyes, pretending it was your hand, pretending you were there with him.

He came embarrassingly quickly with a whimper of your name.

You: and I expect a picture of the mess

He groans, sending a picture of his stomach painted with his come and his softening cock, sending it to you.

You: beautiful

You send him a video a few minutes later.

He cleans his stomach off with a T-shirt before clicking play, feeling his cock twitch as it starts with you whimpering his name.

“Tommy,” you say, the camera angle showing your fingers fucking in and out of your pussy, making the most delicious sound. Your fingers speed up, thumb rubbing your clit as the only noise he hears is his name and the sound of your fingers fucking in and out of you.

You come with a grunt of his name, and he thinks the video is going to cut off but you trail your fingers from your clit up your body, stopping to make gentle circles around your nipples before sucking them into your mouth. He groans as the video stops, right as you moan around your fingers.

Tom: you’ll send me that and not let me come over?

You: gotta keep ya on your toes

Tom: trust me I most certainly am

He sighs, grimacing as he picks up his sticky shirt, tucking his cock back into his shorts.

Tom: we need to do this again

You: I fully intend on it

***

You make it to your flight, Lily talking nonstop the entire trip back to New York about Tom, about if you’re going to meet up with him. How good he was in bed.

“Listen, Lily, I love you, but give it a rest. I’m sure the rest of the people on the plane don’t want to hear about it. I’ll tell you more when we get back to our place. Sound good? Also, you’re gay, you shouldn’t care about this.”

You roll your eyes as she grumbles, turning on a movie as you try to sleep.

When you arrive at your apartment, all you want to do is collapse on your bed and sleep for days. You only have one before you have to be back at work and school, however.

This next week was hectic, you had to finish your final for your portrait class, then you had to finish your oil painting final. The only final you would have to sit for was Art History IV.

You saw a text from Tom that you decided to open.

Tom: hope your flight was nice, good luck with finals

Jesus, you needed a smoke. You begrudgingly got up, grabbing your pack and lighter from your bedside table you pushed open the balcony door, taking your phone with you.

You: thanks, can’t believe I graduate so soon, been a whirlwind

Tom: what’s ur address

You: what

You light your cigarette, waiting for his reply.

Tom: wanna send you a graduation gift

You: like what

Tom: just something

Tom: on a completely different note what size bra and panties do you wear

You: I like the way you think.

You send him all the information he asked for, finishing your cigarette and lighting up another one. It was a bad habit of yours, you were well aware, but you started smoking with your ex when you first started college and you were, like most people who smoke, addicted. You planned to stop eventually, they drained money from your account and you’d need to start saving more for a chair at a tattoo shop anyways.

Tom: What are you up to now?

You: having a smoke then going to take a nap

Tom: oh

You: what?

Tom: just was gonna say we can call or video chat if you wanted to

You: although the idea of getting off together over the phone sounds amazing baby, I needa take a nap

Tom: after?

You: I’d want nothing more

You finish your other cigarette before going back inside, flopping down on your bed and closing your eyes.

You wake up to Lily shaking you awake, “Y/N, it’s been like so long you should get up.”

“What time is it?”

“It’s Sunday, like 2pm.”

“Oh shit,” you say, getting up.

You check your phone, a few missed calls from Tom, one text from Bryce asking if you wanted to work tonight around 6. The shop was closed but there was going to be a small cleaning day according to him.

You quickly text Bryce back, telling him you’ll be there. You send a message to Tom as well, unsure of what time it was over there.

You: sorry I totally suck but I’ll make it up to you. I’m going into work into work at 6pm my time, call me before then.

You lock your door, quickly shutting the door and curtains that lead to your balcony.

You jump back into bed and see your phone buzz, Tom. You quickly pick up.

“Thought you were gonna ghost me,” he laughs.

“Nah, like your dick too much.”

“Y/N, don’t say things like that.”

“Why?”

“Cause.”

“Oh, are you hard right now?”

“Maybe.”

“Are you free?”

“Course.”

“Good, are you naked?”

You hear him suck in a deep breath, “not yet.”

“Okay so get naked.”

“Are you?”

“I’m about to be baby, like I said, gotta work on your patience.”

It’s silent other than the sound of both of you taking your clothes off. You put the phone on speaker and lay it down next to you.

“You naked?” He asks, panting.

“Are you touching yourself?”

“Yes?”

“Did I say you could?” You grin, hearing him swear.

“What’s this game we’re playing Y/N?”

“Just listen to my instructions baby, gonna make you feel so good.”

“Fine,” you hear him grumble.

“You don’t haveta, you can hang up and get yourself off if you wanna.”

“No, no, okay I’m not touching myself, what do you want?”

“Want you to tease yourself, lick your palm, rub it down your chest, don’t touch your cock yet.”

He swears but does what you say, waiting patiently for your next instruction.

“Good, go ahead, wrap your hand around your cock, but don’t move, just feel the weight of yourself in your palm, feel good? Wish it was me, my hand wrapped around you?” You ask, letting your fingers pinch your nipples.

“Fuck, wish it was something else.”

“Yeah? What do you wish it was?” You ask, biting your lip, knowing exactly what he’s going to say.

“You’re, fuck, can I move my hand? Please?” You hear him whine.

“What do you wish it was Tom?”

“Your lips, wish your lips were wrapped around me right now.”

“Wish I was there right now, wish I could suck you off, maybe if you were being good I’d let you fuck my mouth, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“Fuck, yes, wanna fuck your mouth so bad.”

You loved how worked up he got just from being told what to do. You hand slipped down to your pussy, slipping a finger into your wet heat as you gave him his next instruction.

“Go ahead baby, jerk your cock for me.”

“Fuck, Y/N,” he grunts and you can hear him start to move, his bed moving beneath him.

“Feel good? Wish it was my pussy wrapped around your cock?” You ask, slipping another finger into yourself, moaning.

“Are you, you touching yourself too?”

“Course, not nearly as good as you touching me,” you groan, thumb rubbing your clit.

“Wish, fuck, wish I could see you right now.”

“Tom, feels so good, wish these were your fingers fucking into me, wish you were getting me off,” you whine, fingers speeding up.

“Yeah? Wish I could eat that pretty pussy of yours, make you come undone over and over again on my tongue,” he groans your name several times.

“Gonna come? You wanna come for me baby?”

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop please, wanna come, can I come?” he grunts and you grin. You were surprised he was asking permission and you let out a throaty groan as his moans get higher and higher pitched.

“Yes, come on baby, come all over yourself for me, take a picture when you’re done, wanna see how much of a mess you made for me.”

“Fuck, y/n, I’m coming, fuck,” he whimpers your name a few times and that’s all it takes for you to come undone.

“Shit,” you laugh, fingers slipping out from you.

“Yeah?”

“That was fun,” you giggle, before wiping your fingers off on your sheets.

“Agreed.”

You hear your phone buzz and you check it.

Another picture, this time Tom’s face was included. He was biting his lip, hand not holding the phone was in his hair, your eyes wandered down to his chest, red and sweaty, his stomach covered in his come, cock softening against his hip.

“Look so pretty baby,” you say, taking off your phone speaker.

“Thank you,” he laughs.

“Okay I gotta go get ready for work, talk to you later?”

“Great plan.”

“Bye.”

“You know your phone was on speaker right?” You hear Lily shout and you laugh so hard you’re almost in tears.

“Sorry!”

“Well at least I know what he’s like in bed now.”

***

You arrive at Tattoo Dice and the doors are locked, lights off. Maybe you were the first to get there, your apartment being so close, so you unlocked the door with your copy of the store key.

“SURPRISE!” A chorus of people shout and you’re bombarded by every tattooer, piercer, and front desk assistant holding balloons and streamers and those little things that pop, you couldn’t remember the name.

“Holy shit what’s this for?” You ask, confused.

“Your graduation,” Bryce says, stepping out from the crowd, “we couldn’t find a time when everyone was free after your graduation so now is close enough.”

“Yeah? Wow thank you,” you laugh as he guides you to the sofa in the waiting area, where a cake was waiting.

“What?” You ask, reading it.

“What’s it say?”

“Happy graduation and apprenticeship.”

You look between Bryce and the cake, “you fucking didn’t.”

“I did. I’ve never seen such talent and skill, you’ve been here for 4 years, you’re going to have to start looking for an apprenticeship when you graduate, I don’t want my competition swooping in and stealing you.”

You felt tears in your eyes, this never happened.

“Of course, you’ll have to put in the work and the effort, and pay for your chair but I have no doubt in my mind you can do that.”

“Thank you Bryce. Really,” you say, hugging him.

“Alright, no more crying, it’s cake time.”

***

You were anxiously awaiting the grade for your portrait. It took like every waking moment, the theme was “two sides of every story”. You knew exactly what to do.

You had called Tom after your party, shocked he was still awake.

“So, my portrait final, I was wondering if one of your buddies could take a photo of you sitting on a stool, like positioned in a corner, so your shadow is still in the shot.”

“Want me naked?”

You roll your eyes, “no, it’s, the theme is two sides of every story, so I want to draw you, maybe as Peter Parker, then your shadow will be Spiderman.”

“Holy fuck that’s awesome.”

“Yeah, do you think you could do it tomorrow morning? So the light hits you just right?”

“Course.”

“Thank you Tom,” you sigh, laying down.

“No problem. Keep your eye out for your mail.”

“Huh?”

“Your present.”

“Oh you know you don’t haveta get me anything. Don’t even know if anyone is going to my graduation,” you laugh.

“Wait what?”

“Nothing.”

“Nobody’s going to your graduation?”

“It’s, I mean, Bryce is going to try, not like I have anyone else.”

Shit fuck, fuck. You didn’t need to share personal shit with him.

“What about, you don’t haveta, I don’t know if this is a touchy subject for you, if you don’t wanna talk about it you don’t have to.”

“Why nobody’s going to my graduation?”

“Yeah.”

“See how easy it was? Anyways, don’t know who my dad is, mom left me on a police station’s doorstep when I was three like I was a newborn baby and it was the 1950s.”

“She did What now?”

“She had really bad postpartum depression, couldn’t handle having a kid I guess, left me on the police doorstep and I bounced around different foster homes. Never stayed in one place for more than a year.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?”

“For all that, for how you hadta grow up.”

“It was fine really, Art was what kept me going, it was the only thing I really had from home to home, only school subject I was able to do well in since it didn’t require previous knowledge.”

“Well I’m glad you got something good out of everything that happened.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, closing your eyes.

“When is it again?”

“When’s what?”

“Your graduation.”

“Oh, April 15th.”

“Okay.”

“Anyways, guess what?”

“What?” You can hear he’s more distant now, probably wants to ask why you don’t have anyone going to your graduation, he doesn’t want to know the answer.

“Bryce offered me an apprenticeship.”

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“Yeah, I’ve got just enough saved up to pay for my equipment and chair for the first few months, when I’m tattooing for free, then eventually I’ll get paid, might haveta take out a loan for my apartment or move somewhere cheaper but since I won’t be spending money for the subway to get to school it’ll cut my expenses. Jesus why am I rambling sorry you don’t wanna hear all this.”

“No I do, I do,” He says and you can hear some enthusiasm in his voice.

“It’s late you should go to bed.”

“Maybe we can talk in the morning?”

“I’d like that,” you smile, “goodnight Tom.”

“Night princess.”

You giggle as you hang up, running a hand over your face. You were fucking exhausted. The next morning you woke up to a picture message from Tom.

Holy shit, the picture was perfect, just what you needed.

You: this is legit amazing how’d you make it look so good?

Tom: brother is like an amateur photographer

You: nothing amateur about this. Thanks no I get to stare at your picture for the next 50 hours.

Tom: 50???

You: more or less, for the portrait, then the oil painting, now go away I’m meant to work

Your portrait professor said you could go into the studio to draw, since it was a full color design, but if you wanted to do it in the comfort of your own home you could. You opted to take your work to the tattoo studio, sprawling out in the back office.

“You’ve got it bad dontcha?” Bryce asks, seeing your initial outline of the sketch.

“What?”

“This kid in the drawing, it’s the same one you drew the other day. You sleep with him?”

“None of your business,” you say, “scram I gotta finish this outline.”

“It’s almost done, you’ve been working for 6 hours, you need a break.”

“Fine, wanna grab some coffee?”

“Let’s go kiddo,” Bryce says, helping you off the ground.

Bryce takes you to the coffee shop next door. You know you’re going to have to tell him about Tom.

Most of the time he acted like your fun uncle, wanted to know what you were up to but wouldn’t give you any advice or warnings. Recently he’d been more of a wise father, which you had no problem with, never having one of your own to rely on.

“So, he’s famous right? Does movies? How’d that happen?” He asks as you sit in a booth.

“Met him at a club in London.”

“And you…”

“Yes, we did, thought it was just gonna be, you know, that, but we’ve been talking.”

“Have you seen him since?”

“No, think he’s gonna visit on his way to a press thing.”

“So are you two dating? Messing around? What do kids these days call it?”

You shrug, taking a sip of your coffee, “I don’t know. Like, it would be cool to date him, but at the same time I like what we’ve got now. He’s all over the place all the time, lives in London, while I’m here, how’d that work?”

“Think you could find a way to make it work, if it’s worth it.”

“Well, dunno if it’s worth it.”

“You’re doing your final project on him, I think it’s worth it.”

You shrug, “Yeah.”

“So maybe you should see how he feels?”

“Too soon for that.”

“Whatever you want, I’ll be by your side whatever you chose. Alright let’s get back I’ve got a tattoo to do and you’ve got shading and colors to start.”

“Then I’m working at 6.”

“Yep, got 5 more hours of work to do, let’s get to it lady.”

***

By the time your shift started you had almost finished your outline in black and erased the pencil underneath it.

You were happy with how it looked, sending a photo to Tom. Tomorrow you had to go into school for your art history class, only two more lessons left.

Tom: holy shit looks amazing, and now you have to color it?

You: Yep, most of the time will be color, then my oil painting

Tom: What will be your oil painting?

You: was gonna make an oil painting of the Spiderman mask but I don’t want you to think I’m obsessed with you or something

Tom: I wouldn’t mind, your art blows my mind

Tom: also I’m kinda obsessed with you too

You: good

You smirk at his texts, locking up for the night at 11:30, saying goodnight to Bryce who made his way upstairs to his apartment.

“See you tomorrow,” you wave, sending him one more.

The next day is filled with rushing to class, your professor telling you that the final class period was optional, knowing you all had plenty of work to do for other classes. You almost cheered.

When class wrapped up you made your way to the studio, working a mid to close shift, you weren’t going to have much time to work on your portrait.

You were able to use your colored pencils to get the color of his shirt, a blue button up, and his khaki pants done. You wanted to save the details of the Spiderman suit and his face for when you had more time.

By the time 1pm rolled around you were satisfied with how much work you had left and the time you had to do it.

You spent the rest of the day greeting customers, helping them pick out jewelry, copying their consent forms. You had fun as the front desk assistant and would no doubt do it for as long as they wanted you, but you were dying to have a turn with the tattoo machine.

The phone rings, and you answer.

“Hello, Tattoo Dice by Bryce, this is Y/N, how can I help you today?” You ask, pen and paper in hand.

“Hello, is Bryce in?” A low voice asks.

“He is, doing some paperwork in his office. Can I help you?”

“Was hoping to talk to him.”

“Sure, I’ll check to see if he’s taking calls,” you frown, clearly they’ve never stepped foot in a tattoo shop before or understand any etiquette of tattoo shops.

You put the person on hold and ring the back office, “someone wants to speak to you? Do I tell them off or let them through?”

“Feel like being nice, put them through.”

You transfer the line to the back office and look back at your portrait, taking out your skin tone set of colored pencils. There was a lull in the shop around dinner time and you decided to color his body in while there was some silence.

****

“Hello, this is Bryce, how can I help you?”

“Hi, you’re, you’re Y/N’s boss right?”

“Yes, who’s this, Wait, are you that Tom fella? No distracting her at work.”

“Of course not sir, I wouldn’t. I was just wondering, she told me you might go to her graduation.”

“That’s right.”

“I was wondering if maybe, maybe you could get a second ticket? I wanted to surprise her, but I wouldn’t know how to get a ticket.”

“Do you think she would want you there?”

“I don’t, I would hope so, I mean, I don’t know how to ask her without giving away that I want to surprise her.”

“Well I’ll ask her, hold on.”

“Right now?!”

“Yes, just you wait a minute.”

****

Bryce strolls out of his office rolling his eyes, “some random asshole who doesn’t know what our cancellation policy is. Trying to cancel our appointment for tomorrow and get his money back at the same time.”

“Huh, weird that he asked for you.”

“Well I’m his artist, makes sense.”

“Yeah, totally,” you nod, eyeing Bryce as he sits on the stool next to you.

“Looks good so far,” he nods as you shade in his neck.

“Thanks,” you hum, changing the color for his face, slightly darker color to contrast the light from the window you would add later.

“So, your graduation.”

Your face drops and you stop coloring. He doesn’t want to go. Or he is too busy.

“You don’t haveta go, stupid for me to invite you, it’s whatever,” you sigh.

“No, no I was going to ask if I could get two tickets, for Adrien and I.”

“He’d wanna come?”

“What’s my husband gonna do? Sit and look pretty? We’re not open on Sundays he won’t have work.”

“I’d love to get you two tickets.”

****

“Do you like your presents?”

You giggled, looking through the box of lingerie.

“You didn’t need to get me all these.”

“But I want a photo shoot,” he whines.

You pick up a small handwritten card.

For you princess, I expect photos of you in all of them. Xx Tom

“You’ll get a photo shoot mister,” you laugh, putting your phone on speaker and taking off your clothes.

They were from an online store, all in the sizes you sent him. There were more elaborate pieces but you picked up a lacy red bralette with matching red lace panties. Most of the lingerie was red.

“Is red your favorite color?”

“How’d you know?”

“Just a guess.”

“You look so fucking good in red princess. Wait FaceTime me.”

“Okay okay,” you say, hanging up and moving to FaceTime.

“Fuck I didn’t know you’d be naked for me,” Tom groans, laying on his bed, you could see he was shirtless and were hoping there was nothing on underneath.

“Go ahead baby, put on those pretty little numbers on for me,” he says as you prop your phone up on your bedside table.

You put on the first red lacy set, posing for Tom. The camera slowly moves lower to his hand gripping his cock as he jerks off.

“Don’t come too soon, got lots more to show you.”

You show him the same set in black, causing him to bite his lip and thrust into his hand.

The next bit is a little more elaborate, lots of tiny hooks to clip in the back, and you struggle for a bit, laughing when you trip over your own two feet and Tom sits up, concerned you hurt yourself.

“I’m fine,” you laugh, getting the last hook done. You turn back to him, showing off the red lace corset that made your tits look so good, right down to where it trailed off into a lace trim hanging right above your bare pussy.

“Love this one, wanna leave marks all over your chest, tease those hard nipples of yours, shit, so pretty,” he says, hand moving faster.

“Have 911 on hold while I take this off,” you joke, fingers struggling again to unhook it. Once you do you put your hands on your knees and mock being out of breath.

“Are you okay? You don’t gotta try the others on, it’s fine,” Tom starts but you cut him off.

“Are these crotchless panties?” You gasp and look up at him. He’s blushing a little and nods.

“You don’t needa wear them, thought they’d be fun, I don’t know, don’t worry about it.”

“No Tom, I fucking love them, holy shit I could come just thinking about how useful these could be.”

You quickly slide them up your legs, fingers spreading your lips, loving how snug the fabric felt around your hips and ass but how bare and exposed your pussy was.

“Look so pretty, come on, go lie on the bed and play with your pussy,” he says, camera shaking a little as his hand speeds up.

“In these?” You ask, laying on the bed and tilting your phone so he could see your fingers move down your chest, pinching each of your nipples.

“Yes, fuck yourself with those panties, wanna see if they work,” he grunts and you follow through, fingers dipping lightly into yourself, the hole in the panties perfect for this.

“Go ahead princess stuff yourself full for me.

“Shit,” you whine, fucking yourself with your fingers.

You could hear his moans get throatier, you knew he was going to come.

“Fuck, touch your clit, come on baby,” he whines and you do just that, feeling yourself get closer and closer.

“Tom, fuck,” you groan.

“Come for me princess,” he says, his voice deep and gravelly.

Your fingers speed up and you come like a horny teenager with a cry of his name.

He comes right after, and you bring the phone up to your face, giggling a little as he licks his lips.

“Feel like a fucking teenager right now.”

“Yeah?”

“Hella horny all the time, sexting.”

“Wish you were here,” he sighs, hand running through his hair.

“Me too,” you yawn.

“How are you tired it’s like 6pm there.”

“Been working nonstop on your projects, finally finished them today after pulling an all-nighter. Gotta pass them in tomorrow.”

“Can I see them?”

“Course. But I’m gonna sleep now. And you should too! It’s late over there.”

“You’re right.”

“Goodnight Tom.”

“Night princess.”

***

“You should try juuling,” Tom says nonchalantly.

“What?” You almost choke, smoke exhaling out of your nostrils, you cough for the first time while smoking in three years.

“To help you stop smoking, you told me you wanted to stop, eventually, heard juuling helps.”

You roll your eyes at the boy on the other end of the FaceTime call.

“Sure,” you say, “just, I’m graduating today, got some nerves to shake out.”

“But you did it, and your portrait professor said yours was the best work she’s seen this year.”

“Yeah, thank you for your pretty face.”

“Of course,” he grins.

“Where are you right now?” You ask, the bed behind him not his own, he never said he had any filming or press. His next press thing was a week from now in Mexico according to him. Your heart nearly falls out of your chest, what if he’s at another girl’s place? You know you never said anything about seeing other people, you were just messing around, why did what he did in his free time matter to you?

Sure you texted every day, not just sexted. You learned about his friends, his likes, his dislikes, anything and everything, all the little fun facts about him. But that was just getting to know the person you’re sleeping with, right?

He must’ve seen the look of confusion mixed with hurt on your face because he sat up and his eyes widened.

“Nevermind, doesn’t matter, I haveta, I gotta go.”

You were going to wait for him to answer but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself even more so you hung up quickly.

“Fuck,” you say, tears stinging your eyes as you finish your cigarette and immediately start another one.

“Hey! Y/N, we gotta get going- fuck, what’s wrong?” Lily asks as she joins you on your balcony.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you say, sniffling as you take a long drag.

“Clearly you’re not fine you’re crying, what’s wrong?”

“I just, I’m an idiot.”

“What?”

You silently finish your cigarette, Lilly rubbing your back as you stub the end into your ashtray.

“I think Tom was at someone else’s place, like in someone else’s bed.”

“Oh.”

“It’s stupid, we never said we were a thing this was just, we’re just fooling around so it doesn’t matter what he does in his free time.”

“Did you hear what he had to say?”

“No, feel like a fucking idiot, didn’t wanna embarrass myself in front of him anymore.”

“You should ask him out.”

“Huh?”

“Tell him you wanna be official, wanna be boyfriend girlfriend or whatever. It’s obvious you’ve got feelings for him.”

“Nah, he’s, he's famous, he’d never be around,” you shrug.

“Okay, But doesn’t change how you feel. So put on your big girl panties, stop crying, we’ve got a graduation to get to.”

“Don’t gotta leave for a few hours.”

“Two.”

“Okay, so I’m going to smoke this entire pack of cigarettes then we can graduate.”

“You’re seriously going to stand here and chain smoke?”

“Yep,” you nod, grabbing another cigarette.

“Just call him back, call him once and see what’s up, okay? Don’t be stupid and sound like an old lady for graduation.”

“Fuck off,” you groan.

“Fine, but just, call him okay?”

“Whatever,” you grumble.

Lily sighs and leaves you on the balcony alone. You look back at your phone. Nothing. It didn’t matter anyways, maybe you scared him off enough that you wouldn’t have to deal with the messiness that came with feelings.

You shrugged, wiping the stupid fucking tears from your eyes, grabbing another cigarette. Maybe you would get a juul or whatever they were called, cigarettes were fucking expensive and as your apprenticeship got closer you realized how fucked you were. It only made her angrier.

You couldn’t think about that now. Instead, you focused on the ring of smoke you blew from your mouth, the burning sensation you felt in your lungs.

You don’t know how long you stood there, smoking as the sun got higher in the sky and the bustling life of Queens began to start. It was a Sunday so everyone was going to church or catching up on errands.

You heard a knock on the door to your tiny apartment and the door swing open. You ignore it, thinking it might be Lily’s girlfriend here so you all could travel to graduation together.

You finish your cigarette, the knocking on the door starting up again.

“Who the fuck, Lily, who is it?” You shout, making your way back inside, closing your balcony door. You toss your pack and lighter on your bedside table before walking the very few steps to your front door.

“Lily, where the fuck are you?” You groan before unlocking the door and swinging it open.

“Who the fuck-,”

“Surprise?”

Tom was standing in front of you, wearing a really nice suit, eyes red.

“Oh. Oh!” Him in a different bed, acting sort of weird over the past few days made sense.

“I’m sorry. I, I was going to surprise you at your graduation but when you asked where I was I didn’t want you to think that I was with someone else or something, and I’m sorry if you don’t want me to be here I just thought I didn’t wanna wait until May to-,”

You cut him off pressing your lips against his, taking him off guard he stumbles back, arms wrapping around your body to draw you tight against him.

“I want to see you too,” you mumble against his lips, shutting the door behind him.

“Hey, glad you liked your surprise,” Lily says, breaking the two of you apart.

His hands were still tight on your waist, your hands cupping his face, you just nodded, looking at Tom who stared right back at you.

“I’m glad you’re here,” you say, smiling.

“I think I’m even happier that I’m here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep.”

“Prove it,” his eyes dart between your lips and your own eyes.

“Okay, so I’m going to meet Lexie downstairs for coffee, if I don’t see the both of you down there in 30 minutes so we can get to graduation on time I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Lily interrupts and you sigh, forehead pressed against Tom’s.

“Bye Lily,” you shout as she slams the front door.

“Missed you,” you say as you lead him the short way past your kitchen into your bedroom.

“Missed you too princess,” he says, kissing down your neck.

“Now it’s your turn not to leave any marks,” you say, “don’t wanna look trashy when I walk the stage.”

“So I can leave marks here?” He asks, hands moving to grope your breasts.

“Fuck, please,” you whimper, tugging at his suit coat.

“Missed yer kiss,” Tom says, lips meeting yours again as you both struggle to undress each other.

“Don’t have lotsa time,” you say, pushing him back so you can quickly slip out of your sundress.

“Fuck, that’s one of the sets that I gotcha, you like it?”

You nod as he quickly gets out of his clothes, watching as you toss your bra and panties to the side.

“Fuck, Missed yer tits,” he groans, accent thicker, voice rougher.

“Touch me, come on, no time,” you say, moving to grab a condom from your bedside table.

“How are we gonna,” he says gesturing to your bed.

“I know it’s not as good as your king bed. Actually it’s garbage compared to your bed but it’s all that’ll fit in this fucking room,” you say, pushing him down on your twin bed.

You straddle his hips, grinding down on his hard cock as he plays with your tits, sucking and marking them as much as he can.

You hurriedly slip the condom onto his cock and sit on his cock, his teeth gliding against your nipple as you do.

“Fuck, Tom,” you whine as his hands grip your ass, encouraging you to move.

“Come on, not much time,” he says as you start to bounce on his lap.

“Fuck,” you groan, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you move quicker.

“That’s what we’re doing.”

“Shhh,” you whimper, a finger moving to your clit, rubbing it eagerly. He kisses you hard, his lips telling you something without words.

You didn’t want to admit it but you were so excited he was here, if you had to sext one more time you would lose your mind. And whether you would say it out loud or not, you didn’t really want to sleep with someone else to relieve the tension you felt since that night. Your tongue met his in your mouth, his touches softer tonight than a little bit ago, tender. You both reached your highs pretty quickly and Tom would’ve been embarrassed save for the fact that he’s waited so long for this and the sight of you on top of him, the way your lips felt against his, he was a goner, in every sense of the word.

“Wow,” you say as Tom helps you off of him.

“Missed yer sex,” he laughs, taking the condom off as you start to get dressed.

“I’m very grateful you’re here.”

“I think that Manhattan could hear your box spring.”

“Well now they all know how good I’m getting it.”

“What’re your plans later tonight?”

“Well, was gonna go out to like an early dinner late lunch with Bryce and Adrien. Wait how did you even get a ticket to my graduation?”

“Asked Bryce actually.”

“Yeah? How is Adrien going?”

“That’s his husband right? Not sure,” he says, getting dressed as well.

“Hmm, well we’ll see him there. I’ll be right back gonna run to the bathroom make sure I look presentable.”

“I think you look beautiful.”

“Thanks buddy, but we just fucked so I’d like to make sure it doesn’t look like that at my graduation.”

“Good plan,” he laughs, buttoning his shirt.

You make your way to the bathroom, peeing before brushing through your hair. Your sundress showed off your sleeves and upper back tattoos so you grabbed the sunscreen.

“Lather me up,” you say, handing Tom the sunscreen.

“Aren’t you going to be wearing a gown?”

“Nah, it’s art school, we have the hat things, whatever they’re called, but we just wear those and call it a day.”

Tom shrugs, pulling you down onto his lap, he leaves gentle kisses along your tattoos before applying the sunscreen to it, rubbing it into your skin.

“Ready to go?” You ask, about to move from your position on his lap.

He shakes his head and you frown, tilting your head curiously, “wha-,”

He kisses you, hands cupping your face, thumb rubbing your cheek. You swipe your tongue across his lips but he pulls back, “nuh uh.”

“What?”

“Lily is going to kill us, let’s go, I’ve got a special lady to cheer on.”

“Oh? Special?”

He nods as you reluctantly get off his lap, “she’s pretty great, I’ll have to introduce her to ya eventually.”

“Eventually,” you nod, pulling him out of your room. You grab your purse and your grad cap from the kitchen counter.

***

“Y/N, Y/L/N,” the dean of the college says and you grin as you walk on stage, shaking his hand and taking your diploma. The crowd is cheering and you definitely couldn’t seen Bryce, Tom or Adrien in it but you knew they were there. Cheering you on, somewhere.

The ceremony ended a little while after all the names were called and you all threw up your grad caps in the air, you felt cheesy doing it but here you were, a wide smile on your face as you tossed it up in the air with the rest of your class.

***

“So Tom, you’ve been acting since you were little?” Bryce asks as you all sit at the booth of a small diner near Tattoo Dice, the same shop you and Bryce got coffee at a little bit ago.

“Yes,” he nods, hand resting on your thigh.

“What’s your favorite thing you’ve ever acted in?” Adrien asks.

“I know people probably expect me to say the MCU and Spiderman but I quite enjoyed doing Billy Elliot when I was younger.”

“Would you ever do musical theater again? Or theater? Or will you stick to the big screen?”

“You know, I really loved theater, so who knows maybe I’ll make a musical theater revival. I’d haveta work on my voice first but yeah, maybe.”

“And your new movie comes out soon right? The new Spiderman?” Bryce asks.

“Yep, I start the press tour in like a week? Just about.”

“So you travel a lot?”

“Okay, let’s cool it with the 20 questions,” you laugh, “let’s not scare him away.”

“Oh I don’t scare easily,” Tom smiles, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your thigh.

This was the first time any of your hooks up or, you didn’t want to say this and jinx it, any of your boyfriends met Bryce and Adrien, the closest you’d ever come to actual parents.

Maybe Tom knew you were nervous, hell everything about you gave it away. Your leg was bouncing up and down, his hand didn’t stop your leg from moving, just rested it there, which was comforting.

“So, you own the shop is that right?” Tom asks, “and Adrien, you’re the shop’s piercer?”

“Yep, opened Tattoo Dice 19 years ago.”

“And Y/N will be, what’s it called, she’ll learn how to tattoo from you?”

“Yeah, she’ll be my apprentice, she’s going to get started on synthetic skin first, so she gets the feel of the tattoo needle, then she’ll learn basic health and safety of tattooing, stuff she’s already learned since she’s gotten so many tattoos and is the front desk attendant but she’ll get certified officially while apprenticing.”

“So it’s a lot of work huh?”

“She’ll be working hard but that’s what she’s always done so I’m not worried.”

“You’re too kind Bryce,” you say, blushing a little.

“I’ve got no doubt you’ll be fantastic,” Tom says, kissing your cheek.

“So, we start my training tomorrow?” You ask as the four of you stand outside the coffee shop. Tom had got you both a taxi back to your place, Bryce and Adrien would head back to their apartment above the shop.

“Actually, why don’t we start next Monday?”

“Monday? What will I do until then?”

“Relax? Have a little break? You’ve trained the person taking your place, you can still work your evening shifts if you want, but you don’t have to.”

“Gotta pay rent so yeah I think I’ll work this week.”

“Don’t be afraid to take some time off, relax, you deserve it.”

“I will, promise.” “Alright, there’s your taxi, get lost, and congrats kid,” Bryce says, pulling you into a hug. You relax in his arms, and laugh as Adrien hugs the both of you.

“Okay, okay, relax, rest, get lost,” you say, pushing out of their hug.

“Congrats,” Adrien says as you slip into the taxi with Tom.

“Congrats grad,” Tom says, lips gently kissing right below your ear.

“Cheeseball,” you say, his fingers intertwining with your own.

“That does not sound tasty.”

“No it really doesn’t,” you laugh.

The ride back to your apartment was quiet, save for a few comments from Tom about the other driver’s here, how terrifying they all were, with little care for pedestrians or other cars.

“Guess that’s what it’s like in New York,” you shrug as Tom pays the taxi driver.

“So, nightcap?” He asks as you bring him up to your apartment.

“It’s like 6pm it’s way too early for a nightcap,” you laugh, “but I can, I can think of other things we can do to occupy our time.”

“Oh yeah? What did ya have in mind princess?” he asks, his mouth ghosting over your neck.

“Why don’t we go to my room and find out?”

“Your friend isn’t home?”

“Nah her and Lexi will be with their families and then at Lexi’s place, we’ve got a whole 500 square feet to ourselves.”

“You don’t even have a living room.”

“Hey, I’ve got a twin bed and a balcony that’s all I’ll ever need.”

“Whatever you say,” he sighs.

“Come here,” you say, pulling him close, lips meeting his.

You stumble back towards your room, fumbling with the door as Tom’s hands glide under your dress, gripping your ass.

“Missed your hands,” you say as he slaps your ass, your dress bunched at your waist as he pushes you down onto your bed.

You pull your dress over your head as you move up your bed, watching as Tom gets undressed.

You start to take off your bra but he stops you, hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Lemme undress you baby,” he says, straddling your hips and kissing up your stomach. He kisses the tops of your breasts before making his way back to your lips, leaving as many marks as he can on the way up.

“Tom, fuck,” you groan as his hands move to unclip your bra, tossing it to the side.

“Lemme make ya feel good princess,” he says before taking a nipple into his mouth, eyes watching your face contort in pleasure as his fingers play with the other one before switching sides. His hips grind down against yours and you so desperately wanted to get his underwear off, so you could feel him but you decided to be patient, decided it would be worth the wait.

He makes his way back down your body, fingers tugging down your panties, “practically dripping for me, you excited to see me or something?”

“As if you aren’t,” you huff, growing impatient as he breathes against you, so close to where you want him.

“Be patient for me, okay? Almost there,” he says, before kneeling on the floor in front of the bed, tugging you down so your legs are propped up on his shoulders.

You immediately moan at the sensation of his tongue against your clit, slowly lapping at it before moving to your entrance, licking through your folds.

“Fuck come on,” you groan, hands flying to his hair.

“Tug away baby, won’t give you what you want until you’re patient for me.”

You whine, hands tugging at him, frustrated, you lay your head against your bed and let him tease you.

He grins against you and you feel his finger push inside you, tongue making gentle strokes against your clit.

“Good girl,” he says, another finger pushing into you, he starts to pick up the pace, fucking you with his fingers in earnest.

“Fuck come on Tom, make me come,” you say, the knot in your stomach forming way too quickly.

His lips wrap around your clit, sucking gently while fucking into you harder.

His teeth graze your clit and you come with a cry of his name, pulsing against him. His fingers slip out of you as he kisses your thighs, dropping them to the side of his shoulders.

“Missed you,” he says, kissing his way back up your body.

You’re still horny as fuck, you wanted him to get a move on so you grabbed his shoulders tugging him on top of you, “fuck me, please.”

“It’d be my pleasure,” Tom smiles, kissing you softly, too soft for what you’re about to do.

“Come on,” you say, reaching for your bedside table grabbing a condom from the drawer.

“Those been sitting there waiting for me?”

“I was getting ready for the end of May, gotta stock up.”

“So smart,” he says, pushing his underwear down his legs and tosses them to the side.

You rip open the condom and help him slide it down his cock, he groans as you jerk him off, kissing down your neck as he hikes your thigh up around his waist.

“Come on, fuck me,” you whimper as his cock rubs against your folds.

“This what you want princess?” He asks, bottoming out, smirking as you cry out his name.

“Let’s go,” you say, your hips moving up to grind against his.

“All yours tonight princess,” he says, one hand holding himself up while the other cups your face, kissing you as he begins to move.

Tonight wasn’t any less pleasurable than the night a few weeks ago, although the way he made you feel was very different.

He wasn’t any gentler with his thrusts, but his movement was more deliberate, more meaningful.

“Come on, make me come, baby,” you say, arms wrapped around his neck, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck.

“Gotcha princess,” he says, hand moving between the two of you to rub your clit, pushing you closer to the edge.

“Yes, fuck, make me come around your cock, please,” you whine and his lips capture yours, swallowing your moans as you come.

His thrusts get faster and sloppier, your legs wrapped around his waist.

“Feel so, feel so fucking good,” he says, voice deeper.

“Come for me, please, wanna feel you Tommy,” you whine and he groans, face tucked into your neck as he comes, hips slowing to a stop.

“Wow,” you laugh as he pulls out of you, sitting up and taking the condom off.

“Still good?”

“Don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that.”

“Hmmm, three weeks? Give or take?” He asks, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Shut up,” you laugh, sitting up and kissing him. Something about the way he kissed you, it wasn’t needy like he would never see you again, but just his lips, soft and warm and against yours.

“Needa smoke, hop off me Holland,” you say against his lips and he nods, getting off the bed.

You open your closet grabbing two t-shirts and slipping one over your head, tossing the other one at Tom.

“The view from the balcony is really pretty, I’ll be right back,” you say, kissing his cheek before grabbing your panties.

You wink at him before going to the bathroom, peeing and splashing some water on your face. When you go back to your room you grab your smokes and lighter from your bedside table. You watch Tom lean against your small balcony railing, feet crossed and head tilted towards the sunset.

You grab sleep shorts and pull them up before stepping onto the balcony.

“Hey handsome,” you say, arms wrapping around his waist from behind, kissing his neck.

“Hey to you too,” he says, relaxing into your arms.

“Told ya the view is pretty,” you say, face tucked into his neck.

You feel Tom pause, unsure of his next words.

“My favorite is when it’s late out, not all the lights are off, obviously, it’s New York, but when most of them are off, past midnight usually, you can see all the stars in the sky.”

“We should do that,” he mumbles, hands resting over yours.

“Good idea,” you nod, unwrapping your arms and slipping next to him.

He watches as your black acrylics tap against the railing, one hand fiddling with your pack of cigarettes and lighter.

“What is it?”

“I should quit these things.”

“I mean, I’m not going to tell you no, but if that’s what you want, that’s what you should do.”

“Maybe I’ll get that juul or the gum or patch or whatever, cigarettes cost so fucking much anyways, gotta cut costs somewhere and I’d rather not live off of ramen and popcorn for the next few months.”

“Up to you,” he says, watching you get a cigarette and hold up your lighter.

“Tomorrow, tomorrow’s another day, I’ll finish off the rest of my cigarettes and then I’ll stop.”

Tom raises his eyebrows at you and you shake your head, “I’m not every other smoker who says they’ll quit tomorrow and then tomorrow becomes the next day and the next day and so on, never said I was gonna quit before. But I think, I don’t know, it’s stupid really.”

“No, go ahead, what is it?”

“I feel like I’m opening a new chapter, art school is done, I’m gonna be a tattoo artist soon, hopefully, and-,”

“And you’ve got me.”

“Hmmm?” you ask, turning towards him.

“I mean, if you want, I just, I figured, I’d like to be a part of this new chapter of your life.”

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, I- if you don’t wanna, I can do, it’s,”

“Tom?”

“Yes?”

“Will you, fuck, this is so dumb, do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“I uh, sort of already assumed we were, you know, an item. So yes. I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“Dork.”

Before you realize what you’re doing you’re hugging him, arms tight around his neck, body as close as you could be to him in this moment. His arms wrap around your back almost immediately after you hug him. You stay in each other’s arms, just breathing, for some amount of time, time with Tom felt all too quick but drawn out at the same time. But you also really needed to smoke. You pulled away from him and pull out a cigarette.

“Let me,” He says, nodding towards the lighter in your hand.

You quirk your eyebrow at him, handing it over. He attempts to flick the lighter on a few times, biting his lip in concentration.

You put your thumb over his, showing him how to pull the safety tab down to spark the lighter.

The two of you stare at the small flame of your lighter between you, illuminating each of his freckles and each of your tattoos as the sun sets over the balcony.

“Here,” he says as you slip the cigarette between your lips. He holds the lighter to it and you nod when it’s lit, taking a drag before turning away from Tom and blowing the smoke out of your lungs.

“I had to smoke cigars, for a movie once, but I wasn’t very good at it.”

“Not something you want to be good at,” you laugh.

His hands wrap around your waist from behind, chin resting on your shoulder as you finish your cigarette.

“What do ya wanna do tomorrow?”

“Hmm, you don’t have somewhere to run off to? Your press thingy, what’s it called? In Mexico?”

“That’s next week, I uhm I’ve got my hotel for the week. We can go there if you want. It’ll be like a staycation for you.”

“Stay here tonight.”

“Huh?”

“Stay at my place, tonight, there’s a little breakfast place I want to take you to, about a block from here. Only if you wanna.”

“Of course I wanna girlfriend.”

“Oh my god shut up,” you laugh, finishing your cigarette.

“Okay, can I call you princess?” He says, lips pressing against your neck.

“Of course,” you say, “call me something else too,” you grind back against him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Come inside,” you say, putting your cigarette out in the ashtray as Tom kisses down the back of your neck.

He pulls you back in, closing the balcony door. You drop your lighter and cigarettes on the bedside table.

His hands are quick to tug your shirt over your head, planting kisses down your chest, smirking at the marks he left earlier.

“Gonna be a good slut for me and suck my cock?” He asks, hand cupping your pussy.

“Please,” you groan as his palm gently rubs against your clothed clit.

He guides you to your knees, one hand firm on your shoulder while the other tugs off his shirt.

His hands pull your hair out of your face as you push down his underwear, hand wrapping around his cock.

“Go ahead, be a good slutty princess for me,” he says, not pushing your head down but just watching as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

You gently lick up and down his cock, before starting to bob your head, his hips start to move against you and you can’t tell if it’s deliberate or not but you moan when you choke around him, breathing deeply through your nose.

“Look so pretty down on your knees for me, gonna make me come like a good girl?”

You moan again, feeling him twitch in your mouth as you still, letting his hips do all the work.

“Such a good slut for me, fuck, gonna come in your mouth princess,” he groans, hips stilling with your lips wrapped around the head of his cock.

He comes with a groan of your name followed by princess, and you couldn’t help but smile as he helped you up. You fucking loved that nickname.

“Your turn,” he grins as you pull your panties down and off your legs, “do ya, do you still have mine from- from,” you try to finish your question but he’s pushing you down on the bed, one hand wrapping around your wrists and pinned them to the bed, the other running up and down your side.

“God princess I used those to jerk off so many times, had to wash them eventually, still kinda smell like you, I’ll need a new pair when I leave this week.”

“Don’t think that’ll be a problem,” you giggle as he leaves butterfly kisses against your cheek.

“What are you, what are you doing?” you laugh.

“Kissing you, duh,” he says, before his lips meet your hot skin.

“Go on, eat me out baby, please,” you whine, hips moving to meet his own.

“I’m going princess, relax for me okay?” he asks, hand leaving your wrists, which you keep above your head.

He makes his way down your body, kissing as his hands spread your legs wide, he situates himself between them, kissing along your thighs as his fingers slip into your pussy.

“Fuck Tom,” you groan. He quickly brings his lips to your entrance, licking and kissing and just making you feel everything. He brings you to orgasm with his lips wrapped around your clit and three fingers pressing against your sweet spot.

“Taste so good princess,” he says, fingers still moving slowly inside of you as he makes his way up to your face, kissing up. You moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips, arms wrapping around his neck.

***

“I would love to shower with you but my shower is lucky to fit one person, the mere idea of two people in this shower will break it,” you laugh as Tom brushes his teeth.

“Fine, guess I’ll just haveta watch you shower.”

“Okay perv,” you joke as you wait for the water to warm up.

He’s wearing the t-shirt you gave him earlier, he’s small enough that it fits well, the only part that stretches is the sleeves, his biceps bigger than your own.

Once you showered you dried your hair, about to walk back to your room with the towel wrapped around you.

“You don’t wanna watch me shower?”

“No you weirdo,” you laugh and you hear him laugh in return, stepping into the shower.

You sit on your bed, drying your hair as best you can. You tried to think about how this all came to be. When all you wanted was to hook up with someone during your trip to London. You never, ever would have expected this, not in a million years.

“Whatcha thinking about?” he asks from your door and you almost jump off your bed, heart racing.

“Shit, how long’ve you been standing there?” “Just got outta the shower, not as fun as if we were in there together, gonna haveta try that at my hotel.”

“I’d like that,” you say, “come here, help me put lotion on my tattoos.”

“What?”

“Lotion. Gotta moisturize them so they still look good in 50 years.”

“Didn’t know that.”

“Well of course you wouldn’t.”

“Actually,” he starts, pulling you up to stand with him.

“What?” you laugh as he sits down in your place, tugging your towel off and sitting you down between his legs, your back to his chest.

“I’ve got a tattoo.”

“What?! Where?” you ask, turning your head to look for a tattoo somewhere that for some reason you didn’t notice before.

“Don’t laugh.”

“Why would I laugh? I wanna see it!”

“Here,” he says, his leg moving to rest on top of yours as he points to the bottom of his foot.

“You- you got a, what is that, is that a spider?! On the bottom of your foot?” You’re trying your best not to laugh.

“Told ya you’d laugh, yes, I’ve got a spider, had to get it done over twice, it hurt like a bitch.”

“Why would you, why,” you start before giggling.

“Hush and let me lotion you up,” he says, dropping his leg.

“Why the bottom of your foot? That’s like such a bad place for a tattoo, it’ll never last!”

“Well that’s kinda why, and because I’m an actor. Don’t want tattoos to get in the way of my work.”

“What- other actors have tattoos. But you’re very brave for getting the bottom of your foot tattooed, that must be painful.”

“You’d never get the bottom of your foot tattooed?”

“Fuck no, you kidding? No thank you, that’s a no zone for me.”

“Mhm,” he hums as his hands rub the lotion into the skin of your upper back and arms, taking his time to catch every part of each of your tattoos.

“Making me sleepy,” you say as his hands move to massage your shoulders. “Then let’s sleep,” he says, kissing your cheek.

“Gotta get dressed,” you mumble.

“Meh, it’s hot in here, we can sleep naked.”

“How’re we gonna fit here again?”

“Here,” Tom says, pushing your comforter and sheets down, moving the two of you so he’s laying on his back and you’re on your side, practically on top of him.

“This is comfortable for you?” you ask, hand resting on his chest.

“Mhm, you good?”

“Very comfy,” you say, yawning as his hand runs up and down your arm.

“Goodnight princess.”

“Night baby,” you say as sleep overtakes you.

***

“So, you do this a lot?” He asks as you curl up at his side on the bench in Central Park.

“Only when I’ve got free time and it’s nice out, it’s the perfect day for it,” you say, opening your sketchpad to a new page.

“And you just find someone to draw?”

“Normally I draw some of the people who live here, sometimes people sitting on benches around us, like to people watch, ever done it?”

“I’m sorry, people watch?”

“Yeah, sit somewhere and just observe people in their natural habitat, it’s fascinating.”

“Whatever you say,” he laughs, arm around your shoulder.

“It’ll be worth it, promise.” “I don’t doubt that,” he nods as you look around.

There’s a man who was sleeping peacefully on the bench across from you and you glance over his features, your pencil starting to sketch on the page.

“Him?”

“Yep, I think I’ve sketched him before, he’s normally running around everywhere, asking people for hugs, so I only got a quick sketch of his face, but this’ll be perfect,” you say, drawing out the bench.

You can feel Tom’s eyes on your sketchbook as you draw and if it were anyone else you’d be uncomfortable, not wanting them to see anything but a final product. But with him it was different. You were okay with showing him bits and pieces of your life you kept hidden.

“If you were to get tattooed by anyone, who would you want to tattoo you?”

“Probably Ryan Ashley.” “Who’s that?”

“Famous tattoo artist, she’s the first female winner of Ink Master, sorta paving the way for female artists in the mainstream. She does these amazing realistic jewelry pieces, always sort of wanted a chest piece, I’ve been saving it on the very rare chance that she’d ever tattoo me,” you ramble as you start to sketch the outline of the man’s body.

“You wouldn’t want to get tattooed by me?” “Are you telling me you’ve tattooed someone before?” You feel him nod against your head and you gasp, “Tom, you’re just full of surprises huh?”

“Yep, tattooed a little spiderman spider on someone’s leg, he let’s celebrities tattoo him all the time.”

“Fucking jealous you’ve gotten the chance to tattoo someone before I have.”

“I can guarantee you’d be a million times better than me.”

“Hope so, I’ve put all my time and effort into working at Tattoo Dice, I hope it pays off, hope that I put art on people’s skin that they appreciate.”

“I believe in you,” he says, eyes watching as people walk past, feeling comforted by the fact that nobody knows he’s here, none of his fans or paparazzi will be looking for him. He can spend time with you in public without worrying about being stopped every few feet for an autograph or a photo.

Someone looked at the both of you as they walked past, eyes pausing on Tom, who was just wearing sunglasses.

“to hide my unruly brow,” he explained when he put them on this morning.

“Is that like your disguise?” you asked him.

“Course, now nobody can tell it’s me.”

“Sure baby,” you shrugged, blushing a little when his hand slipped down to hold your own as you left your apartment.

You felt him tense and you looked up, “What’s wrong?”

The person kept walking. “Nothing, was scared they noticed who I was,” he whispers as you relax back against him, working more on the arms of the man on the bench.

“But you’ve got your sunglasses on, you’re Clark Kent,” you say.

“Wrong universe,” Tom smirks.

“You know what I mean,” you poke his side before concentrating back on the sketch.

It had to be at least an hour when you were satisfied with how it looked, sitting up to brush away some eraser shavings.

“How’s it look?” You ask, looking up at Tom.

“Pretty damn good,” he says, grinning back at you.

The man on the bench wakes up with a start, grumbling to himself. You quickly rip the page off your sketchbook and get up.

“Want me to-,”

“I’m fine,” you tell Tom before moving the few feet to the man’s bench.

“Whaddya want?” He asks, voice rough.

“I uh, I’m an artist. Draw people, and well, here,” you say, awkwardly holding out the sketch of the man to him.

“What the- is this me? This is me! Wow,” the man says and your brows furrow with worry when his eyes start to tear up.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask permission before drawing you, just looked so peaceful sleeping there and- oh!” You smile as he pulls you into a tight hug.

“This is, this is the best thing I’ve ever seen, I’ll keep it forever, and I mean that,” he says as he let’s you go.

“Well, I’m glad you like it, have a good day,” you smile as he picks up his backpack and shopping cart full of belongings.

“You too dear,” he smiles, wiping a tear from his eyes before walking away, holding the sketch tight to his chest.

You turn back to Tom, sure your face is lit up with a smile.

“You’ve done it yet again princess.”

“Huh?” you ask, sitting down next to him.

“You’re gonna change lives with that art of yours.”

“Sucha dork,” you giggle.

“Cm’ere, miss yer kiss,” he says, kissing you gently as his fingers intertwined with your own.

***

“Gonna miss you,” you mumble, face tucked into his shoulder as he hugs you.

“Already miss you.”

“Dork,” you giggle.

You were standing outside your apartment waiting for Tom’s taxi to take him to the airport.

“I wanna see the first tattoo you do okay?”

“Obviously, I’ll see if Adrien can video it for me.”

The taxi pulls up and Tom pulls you tighter against him, like he didn’t want to let go. And to be fair, neither did you.

“Okay, go before they charge you extra for making them wait.”

“Alright,” He says, kissing you, it wasn’t a soft sweet kiss, or a desperate I want you kiss. But a this is the last time I’ll see you for a little bit and I’ll miss you kiss. And honestly? You think you loved those kisses the most. You pulled away first.

“Get outta here Holland,” you say and he laughs, tossing his suitcase into the backseat with him. As the taxi drives away his hand presses against the window and he mouths “I’ll miss you.”

____________________________________

Tag list (tagged people who asked for a part two/asked to be tagged): @hcllander @spideyyeet @particularspider @wooowsworld @ruefulposts @screeching-student-unknown @jennypizzaholland @april-14-blog @asphalt-cocktail @rageyoudamnednerd @superherosthings

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #tom holland reader insert #tom holland x fem!reader #tom holland oneshot #tom holland one shot #tom holland x reader oneshot #tom holland x reader one shot

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tuanhood · 5 years

Text

designated driver

pairing: im jaebeom x reader

genre: fluff, angst(?)

word count: 2.9k

summary: you and jaebeom are always the designated drivers.

a/n: this is kinda bad and unedited so as always don’t roast me. alsO if you’re just coming across this and my blog here’s a self plug for my mark social media au ------> blurred

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“Pretty boring party huh?” You heard someone say to the left of you.

If you had to be honest, you didn’t want to engage. You were completely fine leaning up against the back wall of the room, sipping on what had to be your fourth La Croix since arriving with your friends. That’s what you tended to do when you weren’t sure what to do. Just mindlessly drink a La Croix or four.

You had volunteered to be the designated driver once again. Somehow it seemed like you always ended up taking the role whenever you went out with your friends and you weren’t exactly sure how. Was it the sad look your best friend gave you all when everyone declared it was her turn? Or was it the awkward silence that followed the age-old question, “So who’s DD?”

This time had been no different, except the stakes had been a little higher.

Mark Tuan’s end of the semester party.

Of course, Mark was notorious for all of his parties – his Halloween parties, his Winter Wonderland Blowouts, Toga Parties and Tailgates – but it was his end of the semester party that was always the biggest and always the messiest. If you had to gather statistics from all of the end of semester parties Mark had had since you’ve been at University, you would have guessed that at least 30% of partygoers experienced some level of alcohol poisoning. And you weren’t exactly sure how Mark got all of the funds to cover all of his gatherings – it wasn’t like he was in a frat or charged cover – he somehow just had the means to supply three fourths of the campus with an ample amount of alcohol.

When the discussion over who would be driving occurred for Mark’s party, you had told yourself that this time you would not be the babysitter for the night, and you would be letting loose after the tough semester you had endured.

“So, who’s driving tonight?” One of your friends had asked slowly, drawing out her words in a way that was meant to tell all of you that it wasn’t going to be her.

“I mean… I honestly don’t want to,” another friend had piped up.

Your best friend sighed, knowing that left her since you had driven the last two times, but she pressed for an alternative, “what if we take Uber this time?”

“Do you know how expensive the surge will be? And who even knows if we’ll be able to get one since there’s less drivers here nowadays.”

You had tapped your foot nervously. It couldn’t be you again, it couldn’t.

“And if that happens, I’m not staying over! That house is disgusting after everyone leaves and I’m not staying with that jerk!”

You blinked slowly and replied, “Mark is your boyfriend.”

“I know but he’s really pissing me off right now and I refuse to stay there while he has that other heathen staying with him.”

“Girl, Bambam didn’t meant to push you in the pool last time. He didn’t know about your fear of water,” your best friend responded blankly.

More bickering had continued, and that’s when you realized that once again it was up to you to be the responsible one out of your friends. To give up the binge drinking you had planned for and the large carb filled meals you had prepped to have before.

When you offered it had felt like they had been waiting for you to say those magic words the whole time, but they retreated and strategically hid the smiles on their faces. They shook their heads and said things such as, “oh no you can’t! We’ll figure it out don’t worry.” Until finally they caved and let you do it.

As if you had been begging for the job in the first place.

That’s how you found yourself in the position you were in now, watching everyone have fun around you and get completely and utterly wasted. Everyone drank around you as if it was their last night on Earth and they would never see alcohol again.

“Okay, so no response?” The voice asked again.

This time you decided to engage and tell whoever attempted to bother you and your sober self-pity party to leave you alone. You were instantly met with warm brown eyes and a bright smile that belonged to none other than Im Jaebeom.

You had seen him at many parties, often in a similar position as you – being the one responsible friend who took on the role of getting everyone home safely. Sometimes at these events you would shoot a smile at each other, sometimes it would just be a quick eye contact to acknowledge one another, but usually it would be you and Jaebeom talking and laughing about all of the drunk idiots around you. You had to admit that he made being the designated driver a little more bearable as you watched all your friends have fun around you. And you would be lying to yourself if you said the butterflies in your stomach whenever you saw him meant nothing.

Tonight, you felt those butterflies working overtime as you took what he was wearing. A light beige turtleneck that fit him tightly in the chest and shoulders showing off his broad frame but hanging loosely at his arms. It made you want to cozy up to him and have him make you scream his name all it once. How a stupid turtleneck did all that for Im Jaebeom you had no clue. The short sleeved khaki work short over his lower layer only emphasized his tall, broad frame and drew attention to the distressed, medium wash jeans that sat on his hip.

He looked hot. Something you obviously already knew, but it still always left you surprised when you felt a large pang of attraction for him just based on his style alone.

His entire look was complete with his current signature look – a backwards baseball cap. At Mark’s neon party a semester or two ago you remembered making a comment about how you thought backwards hats only looked good on a certain kind of guy. And that the certain kind of guy who was able to pull it off without looking like a douchebag was in your opinion, attractive. By certain kind of guy, you had meant Jaebeom, but you had figured he hadn’t caught on to that, but his fashion choices for the last few parties made you wonder if he was wearing them because of you.

You immediately shrugged the thought out of your head. As if Im Jaebeom would do anything for me. He doesn’t do anything for anyone.

With the time spent on his appearance you hardly noticed the red cup in his hand, which made you frown almost immediately. “Not the DD tonight?” You asked, a little bit sad that he wouldn’t be your sober buddy for the night.

He smiled at you sheepishly and tipped the cup towards you in an effort for you to be able to view the inside, “It’s just water.”

You pretended to be shocked and gazed at him with wide eyes, “Im Jaebeom are you telling me that you’re ditching your one true love, strawberry milk for water?”

He shook his head and rolled his eyes at you pretending to be annoyed, but you could tell by the glimmer in his eyes and the corner of his mouth moving upwards, he was attempting to tease you. As was most of the encounters you had with him.

In a way you hoped that the teasing you often did to one another would lead to something more. In fact, it almost felt like your own version of a cat and mouse game, but most of your contact with Jaebeom was simply left to the confounds of a party. Never had you approached one another on campus, or ever had the slightest attempt to slide into one another’s DMs. Maybe all you two were good for was being designated driver colleagues.

“So, who made you drive this time? Youngjae? Ooh no I bet it was Yugyeom.” At your question, you noticed him look down shyly.

“Ah… Well you know…” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck, “A little bit of everyone.”

You nodded your head in agreement, “same here. I was going to get wasted after the semester I had, but once again I guilted myself into after no one really volunteered.” Jaebeom cleared his throat, “well you know any time you feel like you’re being coerced into it I can always take you and your friends home? I could even do it tonight if you uh… wanted to.”

You felt your heart warm at his offer.

“That would be really nice of you Jae, but what about your friends?” You laughed and you could almost have sworn that he froze at your use of his nickname.

He nodded slightly and looked away from you, out towards the party and the drunk people surrounding you both, “right, right of course.”

“But you definitely make this whole always getting stuck with designated driver kinda fun,” you mused. He turned back to you immediately, batting his eyelashes, “only kinda? You know I make it kinda definitely fun.”

His response caused you to snort and you couldn’t help but disagree with him. He didn’t make it just kinda fun or kinda definitely fun, but instead he made the whole thing fun and worth it. The moments over the last year or so that he made you laugh, warmed you with the gentle touch of his hand on your arm or made you freeze with just one look, had you thinking that if you had to stay sober for the rest of your life while your friends had fun and partied around you, it would be okay as long as you were with Jaebeom. When you were with him it was as though you were intoxicated in your own kind of way. It was as if you were drunk on him.

But he clearly doesn’t feel the same way. Otherwise he would have done something already, right?

You felt his hand comfortingly go to your shoulder as it always did when he was about to begin one of his big stories about his cats, a new track he was producing, something Jinyoung had learned in his Philosophy lecture or anything in between.

Looking up to him with big eyes, ready to listen to anything Im Jaebeom has to tell you, you smiled softly to show him he has all your attention, “so what is it this time?”

Jaebeom was just about to open his mouth when you heard a crash and a familiar voice suddenly yell, “watch out!” It’s at that moment you turn to see a football coming directly towards your face. You froze, too unsure and slow to react to the object.

At that moment you felt warm arms wrap around your waist as you’re spun to the other side of Jaebeom, the football avoiding you completely and simply hitting the wall behind where you were originally stood.

“Are you okay?” Jaebeom asked you, looking down at you with eyes full of concern.

“Y-Yeah t-thank you,” you barely managed to stutter out. And you don’t know it’s from the the shock and fast pace of what just happened or Jaebeom’s arms still firmly wrapped around your waist, as if they were meant to always be there.

Jaebeom nodded at you and as he turned to face the culprit, you feel his arms move away from your waist and rest at his side. You felt yourself frown.

“Bambam are you an idiot or something? Why the hell are you playing football inside?” Jaebeom asked the younger boy with annoyance written all over his face.

The younger boy immediately rolled his eyes at him as if his indoor take on an outdoor sport was the most obvious thing in the world. “Jinyoung told me it wasn’t possible, so obviously I had to try.”

“If Jinyoung tells you it’s not possible to jump off a bridge, would you do it?” As if on cue, Bambam rolled his eyes again, “no Jaebeom, of course I wouldn’t.” He turned to you and moved his eyes in Jaebeom’s direction as if to say can you believe this guy?

“Sorry about your drink by the way,” Bambam suddenly said, leaning down to the floor by your feet. It’s then when you realize that Jaebeom was no longer holding his red cup, as he must have dropped it when he rallied to get out of the way of Bambam’s football game. Bambam picked up the cup and sniffed the inside of the cup once and handing it over to you, “here.”

You shook your head at him, “It’s Jae’s.”

Bambam looked at you with confusion and turned to Jaebeom, “are you already that drunk that you have to switch to water?” he cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes to take Jaebeom in, “you don’t look that drunk.” Once again you found yourself shaking your head at Bambam for his incorrect statement, “no, no, no. He’s the designated driver.”

He looked back and forth between you and Jaebeom for a moment with wide eyes until finally deciding to fixate them on you, “what!? Are you telling me that Jaebeom is sober? If I would have known I would be halfway to the hospital for excessive alcohol consumption,” he groaned, “why does everything bad always happen to me?”

This time it’s you who looked at him in confusion, unsure of what he was saying and that’s when you took notice of Jaebeom rubbing his hand against the back of his neck once again – his nervous habit.

“If you’re just going to abuse your right to party, then I’m never volunteering to be designated driver again,” Bambam muttered.

It’s at that moment when everything clicks, Jaebeom was pretending to have to be sober. But why?

You turned to Jaebeom, “Bam’s your guys’ DD? Why aren’t you drinking?” You smiled at him and grabbed him a bit, shaking him excitedly, “you know taking part in organized binge drinking and alcohol poisoning?”

“I- well you know I just knew that you would probably be the one who has to drive all your friends home again… A-And you know I thought it would be lame if you were sober on your own so I just thought that I would keep you company.”

Bambam doesn’t hide his annoyance at Jaebeom, “I would have also been sober with her… and you know what? I am!” Jaebeom turned to look at Bambam with a scowl on his face, “Yeah but I’m the one who likes her so you should just shut your-” Jaebeom cuts himself off and widens his eyes, at a loss for words, not believing the confession he had just let slip from his mouth.

“You like me?” You asked him, also not quite believing Jaebeom’s sudden reveal.

He turned to look at you softly, lowering his head gently to the side, “Y-yeah and I planned on asking you to hangout away from all of our drunk friends and confessing to you somewhere a bit better. Like that tree you always sit under by the main quad or the rose garden near my apartment, literally anywhere else besides here.” He paused and groaned, putting his head in his heads woefully, “and now I’ve given probably the worst confession ever… Yelling at this stupid idiot,” he muttered bitterly, his eyes fixed on Bambam angrily.

Just knowing he wanted to take you somewhere special to confess his feelings for you was more than enough to give you the same warm buzz you know you would have felt if he had performed a grand romantic gesture, but somehow him doing it here – at a party surrounded by drunk people and scolding Bambam was kind of perfect in its own way.

In yours and Jaebeom’s way.

You reached out to grab Jaebeom’s hand before he can stop himself from doing any kind of damage to Bambam. At your touch, and your hand in his you felt him relax.

Delicately, you set your eyes on his and he returns your fragile look almost as though you both are having a silent conversation with one another. You had already known what you felt for Jaebeom was more than just casual friends who kept each other sane during a party, but for the first time since meeting him you realized that you wanted Jaebeom to have every piece of you and for the first time ever you weren’t scared of that.

You rubbed your thumb over his hand and felt yourself look at him shyly, “why don’t we go talk about this… upstairs?”

It takes a moment for him to figure out what you mean, and he almost chokes when he realizes, “t-that would be good. I would like that.”

Without another word you tugged on his hand, leading him through the crowd of partygoers and towards the stairs, leaving Bambam to gawk at both of you in shock.

“What’s going on over there?” Your best friend asked Bambam, slurring her words from her last few hours of too many cups of jungle juice.

Bambam blinked slowly for a moment, getting out of his state of surprise. He placed his hand on her shoulder and pat it comfortingly, “your designated driver and my new designated driver are going upstairs to have sex, so I hope you’re not planning on going home any time soon.”

She stared at him blankly, lost in confusion.

He pats her one more time and began his walk towards the kitchen, “now if you excuse me, I’m going to go get hammered. I have some catching up to do.”

#got7 fanfic #got7 au #im jaebeom #jaebeom fanfic #got7 fic

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kenzieam · 5 years

Text

Mortal - Chapter Three

Rating: M (smut, language, angst and sorrow)

Genre: Drama/Angst

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***Slightly Non-Canon. Asgard hasn’t been destroyed, Thanos didn’t succeed with the snap….. I’ve taken a few liberties, my lovelies***

Sorry this chapter has taken so long!!! I hope it’s worth it?

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He pulled away after a moment, his breathing harsh and pressed his forehead to Remy’s. His eyes were closed, face twisted with pain and Remy suddenly ached to soothe it. Her first brush against his lips was tentative and Loki shuddered at the contact, whimpering low in his throat. Remy pulled away, lips tingling and Loki followed her, capturing her mouth again. He was still timid and unsure and Remy felt his lips tremble as he deepened the kiss. His hand curled gently at the back of her hair, lacing into her hair and holding her in place. Remy felt his confidence returning and she moaned as his tongue traced the seam of her lips, begging for entrance. His groan was ragged as she opened for him and he swept inside; their tongues tangling together.

Abruptly, Loki released her, taking a large step back. His chest heaved; his normally pale face flushed, his eyes wild. The normally vivid blue was brighter still, seeming to snap and spark with emotions and energy. Remy swayed, head spinning; she’d begun to lean into him, savoring his warmth and solidness.

“Forgive me.” He rasped, finger flexing into fists before relaxing again. He eyed her with a mix of barely-leashed desire and wariness. “I cannot seem to control myself around you, my darling. I fear I will be unable to stop myself if I continue.” Shock, bordering on fear clouded his face. He was not accustomed to losing control like this, being swept away by his emotions.

Remy licked her lips, trying to reorganize her thoughts, they were a chaotic, tangled mess right now, reeling with sudden, almost painful desire and surprise. “I- I should go.” She stuttered.

Loki’s eyes darkened as he watched all this play out over her face and he took several deep breaths before he was able to speak again. “Please, I need to see you again.”

“When?” She still wasn’t able to form full sentences, what had he done to her? He’d originally asked her here to apologize, but the low-level energy that hummed between them was too strong to deny.

Remy could no sooner walk away from her new life, her family and her child than she could Loki, not anymore. If she’d not agreed to meet with him, if she’d not seen his face and heard his voice again, she might have been able to fight this. Based on the anguish darkening Loki’s eyes, he was experiencing the same quandary. While he’d originally intended only to apologize, he could fight the draw between them no more than her.

“Tonight?” There was almost-painful hope tinging his voice. “For dinner? My Goddess, please?”

My Goddess? Had the infamous god of mischief ever begged like this before? "Yes, I’d like that. Where?”

“Wherever you desire.”

“Is there a restaurant downstairs?”

“I believe the Ty Bar is open for dinner service. I’ve not yet partaken, so I cannot comment as to the quality.”

“The Ty Bar then? 7:00?”

Relief and excitement flooded his handsome face. “I shall be there.”

Sweat trickled down Remy’s spine, feeling icy as it trailed along her heated skin. She ran hotter than the average person, due to her pyrokenesis, it took a lot to make her sweat. “Okay,” she fumbled to sound grown-up, like someone deserving of this god’s attention. “I’ll see you tonight?”

On impulse, without thinking, she took a step forwards to embrace him once more, seeking the warmth and comfort from before but froze; she too would have trouble reining herself in if she surrendered to the ache. And, they were agreeing to a simple date, what kind of impulsive girl-child couldn’t control herself, she would embarrass herself if she wrapped herself around him again. A mix of disappointment and barely-restrained hunger flared in Loki’s eyes; the briefest flash of hurt before he schooled his features into a neutral mask, a gift born of greater than a millennia in Asgardian court.

Swallowing hard, still fighting the ridiculous urge to throw herself at him, Remy turned sharply and marched away.

*******************************************************************************************

Despite grumbled, half-serious threats of mayhem from both Steve and Bucky, Remy refused to divulge what she and Loki had spoken of until they were all back in the Tower. While Levi and Pepper sat on either side of Remy, and Wanda perched on the arm of the couch, the rest of the team paced back and forth; at times managing to achieve some type of strange and unplanned synchronicity before breaking apart again. Remy decided to wait until they’d all blown off some energy and waited quietly, her lips still tingling faintly with the memory of Loki’s touch.

“I don’t like it.” Steve announced, as if this wasn’t the tenth time he’d said such a thing since beginning his death march.

Bucky nodded emphatically as they passed each other, lips pressed into a thin line.

Remy understood their reluctance. She hadn’t been an Avenger when Loki had attacked New York; despite his cruelty five years ago, she’d not experienced the heartless monster the others had, she’d not fought against Loki the trickster, the cunning god who’d very nearly destroyed her city. She remembered the panic and chaos, but she’d been a teenager then, and the derelict neighborhood she was hiding in after running away from another foster home hadn’t been close to the actual damage.

Finally, Steve stopped and, after a few more frenetic steps, the rest of his posse did too. He turned abruptly to Remy, his bottom lip red from relentlessly chewing on it.

“Tell me you’re not going through with this?”

Remy sighed, it was as painful to her as hurting and disappointing her family, maybe even more so, the thought of never seeing Loki again, the specter of their missed chance. “He’s different now-”

Tony scoffed, Steve huffed and Bucky actually growled. Nat’s glare was like a dagger and Sam shook his head, hands on his hips.

“You can’t know that.” Tony grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

Remy looked helplessly at Wanda, beseeching her with her eyes.

Wanda cleared her throat and, reluctantly it seemed, the team turned their attention from Remy to her. “I hit him with everything I dared; more than I’d subject any of you to and I found nothing to indicate he intends Remy any harm. There’s a... humbleness, I didn’t see anything approaching the egomaniac he’s always been described as. Thor says he’s changed-”

Almost as one, the posse scoffed and shifted their feet, gritting their teeth.

“I’m just telling you what I observed.” Wanda continued. “If he was able to hide from me, then he’s more powerful than anyone thinks; I searched everywhere-” she broke off and shivered. “He’s had things done to him that.... HYDRA wouldn’t even be that cruel. I won’t say anymore but... think of the story of Prometheus. It took all of my strength to purge that blackness from my mind before it could take root.” She shuddered, glancing with sympathy at Remy.

“Bucky. You changed. You used to be the Winter Soldier and you’ve left that behind. And Levi, she overcame unbelievable things too, why can’t Loki?” Remy tried again.

A pained look crossed Bucky’s face before it set stonily again. “He doesn’t deserve another chance-”

That was it, something snapped inside Remy. She couldn’t explain this urge to have her family give Loki a chance, but Bucky’s words had inadvertently pressed on a particularly painful nerve. She leapt to her feet, fists clenched and the team froze in their tracks.

“He doesn’t deserve another chance? Then what about me? I’ve done horrible things in my life too. I-” she broke off, ridiculously close to tears, but she needed to get this out. No one but Tony knew the full depths of her past, and if her family thought less of her after this, then so be it. “I’ve done terrible, terrible things.” Remy looked down at her hands before looking back up with a muffled sob. “I’ve broken into houses.... I stole vehicles for a chop-shop. I sold and moved drugs for a guy until he decided he was entitled to sleep with me too.... I ran away from every single foster home I was placed in after I turned eleven and the foster dad tried to touch me. I’ve been to juvie and the state homes more times than I care to count and even-” she stopped again, what she was about to say was her biggest shame. “I hired myself out as an arsonist, for people who wanted to collect insurance, and I never asked what was in the buildings I destroyed... Most of this shit I never got caught for, or I’d still be in prison, minor offender or not. When I was twenty, I got caught with forty G in stolen jewelry. My arresting officer told Tony about me and he decided to give me one last chance to get clean. He gave me something to fight for instead of against. I would die for any one of you, fight for you with everything I have... but I’m just as broken and damaged as Loki, why did I deserve one more shot and not him?” Remy felt suddenly exhausted, raw and exposed, sure that, at any moment, her family was going to reject her now that they knew the truth. Tears trailed hot down her cheeks as she turned away, quickly pulled Rora from Pepper’s arms and dashed to her room.

*******************************************************************************************

Rora stayed asleep despite the commotion and Remy laid her carefully down in her bassinet before collapsing on her bed. Why? WHY? Why had she told all her shameful past and dark secrets to her family? Why had she exposed herself like that? If her life had taught her one thing, it was to never bare your heart like that to anyone, it only gave them the opportunity to stomp on and crush it. She was off the team; she was sure of it. None of them would trust her to watch their backs anymore, she’d pulled off her mask and shown the monster beneath.

Hot tears began to trail down her cheeks and she startled when a knock came at the door.

“Who is it?” She sniffed.

“Tony, can I come in?”

“It’s your Tower.” No doubt he was here to remind her of that, to tell her to pack her things and get out. It was better to start pulling away now, retreating into herself-

The door opened and Tony strode in. The hurt on his face surprised Remy. “Don’t be like that.” He was going for firm, but his voice wasn’t entirely steady. He knew the way Remy’s mind worked; he knew her MO, knew he was chasing after her into her own shell and had to catch her before she shut the door behind her. He moved to the bed, searching Remy’s face for signs that he was too late, that she’d regressed back into the sullen and damaged girl he’d met six years ago. Reaching out, he snagged her chin, his grip firm but gentle, not trying to cause pain but not letting her pull away either.

“You know me, I don’t say these things very much but... I love you, Remy. You’re my daughter, in every way that matters. I adopted you on your twenty-third birthday, remember? I’ve got the bill of sale,” his grin was shaky. “You’ve given me a granddaughter. You’ve given me the chance to be a dad without all that messy toddler crap and high-school drama-”

Remy tried to pull away, fighting a mingled grin and grimace.

“And all I want, all any of us want, is for you to be safe and happy. Thinking about what Loki could be planning keeps me awake at night; going after my city I can handle, but if he hurts my daughter... I can’t deal. It would tear me apart if I didn’t keep you safe the way a father should.”

Remy winced, fresh tears coursing down her cheeks. “I understand, and I’m sorry. I’m being a real bitch-”

“No.” Tony’s voice was gruff and he sat abruptly beside her, taking her hands. “You’re being a girl who had nothing but shit happen to her as a kid, and now that you’ve have good, you’re hanging onto every little bit you can.” He sighed and pulled Remy into his arms. “But we trust Wanda, if she says she didn’t find anything rotten in his head, then... maybe it is all gone, who knows? Weirder things have happened. Give us time, Rem; that’s all we want, if Loki truly makes you happy then give us time to wrap our heads around it all, okay?”

That was far from unreasonable, and far more objective and generous than many others would be in the same position. Every single member of this family, of the team, knew that people could and did change.

Remy sniffled again, rubbing her face against Tony’s shoulder. He leaned back enough to eye her.

“Thanks for the snot-smears, you little shit.” He grinned, then leaned impulsively forwards again and pressed a quick kiss to her head. “When are you seeing him again?”

“Tonight, at seven.” Remy hadn’t pulled her face from Tony’s shoulder, still hadn’t relinquished her grip and he didn’t let go yet either.

“You don’t waste any time, do you, kid?”

Remy lifted her head, resting her chin on Tony’s collarbone and he raised his head enough to set his chin on top of her head. “I’ve been waiting for five years.”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed mildly. “Well, make sure he minds his goddamn manners, or the guys and I will kick his ass all the way back to Asgard. I wish you’d have found some normal guy to love, Pepper says there’s a few interns and techs that have been looking at you-”

“No thanks. And I can take care of myself.”

“Don’t deny your old man his fun, I got a shotgun lying around here somewhere.” Tony sighed. “And yeah, I didn’t think so. You’re not taking Aurora tonight, are you? Pepper and I will babysit.”

“I was just going to ask-”

“Don’t need to, Rem. We love watching her.”

“You’re a good Poppa.”

“Damn straight, my delinquent child; now do me a favor and call Pepper something like MeeMaw or GamGam, I want to see the smoke come out of her ears.”

“She likes Nanna-”

“I know, so that’s why you call her MeeMaw.” Tony spoke slowly, like Remy was a mental deficient.

“How often do you end up on the couch, old man?” Remy teased.

“Never, I got one of those innocent faces.” Tony laughed.

*******************************************************************************************Remy took a deep, steadying breath and adjusted the grip on her clutch. Despite the fact that she could create and control fire with her mind, the team hadn’t let her leave the Tower until her purse was full to almost bursting with two knives, three Widow Bites and a small can of Mace. Steve, Sam, Nat and Bucky were also patrolling the streets outside the hotel, ready to react at a moment’s notice if Remy’s newly installed phone alert went off. Tony had stolen her cell and refused to return it until Remy allowed him to install a special emergency app, activated if Remy pressed the home button for three or more seconds. It was ridiculous overkill, but the family had been immovable.

The décor of the Ty Bar stole Remy’s breath; the high ceilings, red walls and art deco inspiration instantly sang to her heart and she couldn’t stop a surprised grin as her eyes roamed. There was a dozen or so couples seated around randomly, and a few individuals sitting at the bar itself, but only one person truly grabbed her attention.

Loki leaned against the bar, nursing an amber liquid in a heavy tumbler. His suit was a sharp, tailored black, the crisp white shirt a handsome contrast. His eyes restlessly traveled the room, the expression on his face a mix of apprehension and uneasiness. He looked like he thinking Remy had stood him up, or that the other patrons of the bar were going to recognize him and start pointing, screaming his name and lighting torches. When his gaze fell on Remy, the change in his expression, the wide, delighted, unguarded smile was stunning to see. Leaving the tumbler on the bar top, he strode to her and reached out, clasping her hand and pressing his lips to her knuckles.

“My Goddess,” he breathed, eyes alight. “You look stunning.”

Remy blushed and would have pulled her hand from Loki’s in bashfulness but he held her hand firmly, his thumb running gentle circles over the back of it. The simple, light touch made goosebumps race up Remy’s arms. Thankfully, she was wearing one of Levi’s dresses, a black long-sleeved affair with a fairly basic neckline and plunging back, cut to mid-thigh. The girls had wrangled her hair into an elegant twist and dabbed a minimum of make-up on her, declaring her too beautiful to cover and, judging by the look in Loki’s eyes, they’d done a bang-up job.

He seemed speechless for a breath, a rare state indeed for the God of Mischief and had to visibly shake himself to get back on track. Turning, he pulled gently on her hand, directing her to a private table, set far enough away from the main area that Remy wouldn’t feel crowded or spied upon.

The host bustled up to pull out Remy’s chair but Loki ignored him, doing it himself before sitting down. The server appeared but Remy was too dazzled, both by her handsome dinner companion and the bar itself to hear him until the poor man cleared his throat and glanced at Loki for help.

“My darling,” Loki brushed his fingertips across Remy’s hand, startling her. “What would you like to drink?”

Shit. What do grown-up women who regularly eat in these types of places drink? Remy usually drank whatever the boys were currently mixing, she had no real preference beyond an absolute aversion to tequila, earned one night trying to drink Nat, Clint and Sam under the table and resulting in a three-day hangover she still shuddered thinking about. “Um, a white wine, please?”

The server began rattling of a list of names and Remy felt completely lost again, thankfully Loki broke in, saying a name and ordering two glasses of it.

“Splendid.” The server chirped and disappeared.

“Thank you.” Remy murmured.

“Not at all my darling, this planet has far too many to choose from. It’s a slightly sweeter wine I chose, I hope you’ll enjoy it.” He smiled softly, surprisingly nervous.

“I’ve never been on a date before.” Remy blurted, startling slightly when Loki set his menu down with a small crash.

“I beg your pardon?” Loki hissed; eyes widening before narrowing with disbelief.

“I mean, I’ve been out with the team before, but I’ve never been on a date date.”

“You mean... Aurora’s father never escorted you? Never treated you to a romantic evening?” At Remy’s head shake, his jaw tightened noticeably. “You were adequate to warm his bed-” he broke off, jaw working and looked away. Remy felt a shiver of apprehension at his thunderous expression but his face softened noticeably when he saw her eyeing him and biting her lip nervously. “My darling, forgive me. I am not cross with you, but... how could he have misused you so? You are a treasure, a Goddess; not a -” he broke off again and took a deep breath. Suddenly he leaned forwards and reached for her hands; trustingly, without needing to think about it, she gave them and he clasped her fingers tightly, his thumbs caressing her skin. “I don’t wish to speak ill of your child’s father, but that is a disgrace, you should be pampered and treated like a queen, what sort of scoundrel was he?”

Remy felt a need to defend Eric. “It wasn’t like that. Eric and I, we weren’t together like that. We started out as teammates, then were just... a release for each other.” She shrugged, lowering her voice. “Just fuck buddies for the longest time. We weren’t even friends. We didn’t even try dating until I found out I was pregnant. Eric only proposed to me because he came from a broken home too and wanted to do it right for Aurora.” Remy fell silent, watching Loki’s thumb stroke soothing circles on her hand, it was far more relaxing and pleasant than it should have been. “I miss him, so bad; but not the way you should miss your fiancé, the person you’re supposed to love for better or worse.”

Loki nodded slightly, looking down, deep in thought. Slowly he raised his head, hope creeping into his eyes. “What I would give to be that man. The one to spoil and indulge your every whim, treat you like the Goddess you are.” He broke off, pale cheeks coloring slightly. “Forgive me, that was too forward-”

“It’s okay,” Remy reassured him, flexing her fingers in his grip. “Thank you.”

“He was a fool.” Loki spat suddenly, but then his hands tightened and Remy looked up at him questioningly. “But I am the bigger fool for letting you go first.”

“Why did you?” Remy asked abruptly. “And why five years? That’s like a blink to a god.”

Loki winced slightly, rubbing her knuckles with his thumbs for a heartbeat before letting go of her hands and sitting back against his chair with a heavy sigh. “In my more than a millennia of being, that day was the hardest I’ve ever experienced. Seeing the humiliation, the devastation on your face... and knowing I was the cause, was torment. I truly believed I was doing the right thing.” He chuckled humorlessly. “My brother was so upset over my actions that he wouldn’t talk to me for a month; and Thor is too great-hearted to hold grudges.” He shook his head faintly. “It may have only been five years but it was the longest of my life; I couldn’t stop thinking of you. In one moment, I would ask myself what you were doing now, then I would be telling myself I had no business wondering. You were the first thing I thought of as the sun rose, and the last as it set. You tormented me all through the night. And then, my brother, he would go to Earth and return with stories of you, meant to rub in my face what I’d let go, meant to drive my jealousy and stoke my hunger for you, intended to rid me of my foolish compulsion to ‘save’ you. He’d tell me of your accomplishments, your gains with your powers, the respect and standing you were earning with your team; and he’d speak of your beauty, your goodness.” Loki shook his head ruefully. “He knew what he was doing, and I knew what he was doing; my brother is not known for his subtlety, but when he returned with news that you were with child, I couldn’t fight myself anymore. You were moving beyond me and it was my own selfish fault. If I wanted to claim you, I needed to, as you Midgardians so eloquently put it, pull my head out of my ass.” He fell silent, cheeks tinged pink.

Remy blinked, too stunned to speak. She had spent the last five years wondering what could be too, had told herself endlessly that it was a foolish child’s fantasy, that the God of Mischief wasted none of his precious time thinking of her; and she’d looked forwards to Thor’s visits both in part because he was a treasured friend, and because he was her last link to Loki. “Loki, I-”

“I don’t expect you to throw yourself at me and I originally intended only to beg your forgiveness; but I hope you’ll be willing to give me a chance to correct my past wrongs.”

*******************************************************************************************The next week was both heaven and hell.

Despite being a native New Yorker, Remy had never seen her city the way others had, she'd always been too preoccupied with simple survival, down in the city's dark underbelly, and later, as an Avenger, too busy working and saving lives, to see her splendor and highlights; something Loki set out to remedy. Therefore, he treated Remy like a tourist, taking her to all the attractions.

They planned to walk through Central Park, visit Rockefeller Centre and the Met; had already seen the Museum of Natural History and stood in Times Square and the High Line; and even though Loki was a millennia-old god, he stood with Remy and was almost giddy right along with her, indulging and sharing in her childlike wonder of her city. No excursion was too frivolous or immature, he seemed content to simply be near Remy, the location and activity was secondary, and often inconsequential.

Remy loved this time, it was her heaven, but it was also her hell. Her family remained understandably wary, and Remy struggled to balance this new life, split between the man god who had stolen her heart, and the family that had given her one. She was careful not to neglect her family and team, spending a great deal of time with them as well, but when they were apart, she missed Loki almost a ridiculous amount, definitely more than she could ever let on to the others.

And, despite her family's hesitation, Remy decided to bring Rora with her after the first few meetings with him. She trusted Loki and knew he meant her no harm, nor her daughter, and she couldn't keep asking Tony and Pepper to babysit while she gallivanted around the city; so, Remy packed up a diaper bag of essentials and brought Remy with her on her third date. It was the day Remy had asked Loki to take her on a walking tour of the city and they were to meet in Central Park, along the Mall.

Rora was soundly asleep, secure and nestled in her wrap and Remy felt her mind wandering reluctantly. This morning, when she'd begun packing Rora's things to bring her along, she had attracted attention that rapidly became unwanted.

"What are you doing?" Bucky asked, leaning against the door frame to Remy's quarters; she'd left the door open because Sam's stereo was playing loud enough to hear out in the hallway, and she loved the song.

Remy looked over her shoulder at Bucky and smiled. "Packing some things for Rora."

"Why? You're not taking her along with you, are you?" The mingled surprise and disapproval in his voice was enough to give Remy pause. She turned fully towards him. "Yes, I am. Is that a problem?"

Bucky pushed off from the doorframe, standing upright and squaring his shoulders. "You know it is."

A hot flare of anger coiled in Remy's chest, how long was the team going to insist on shunning Loki, just what fire would he have to jump through in order to earn a chance? "Why is it a problem, Bucky? Aurora is my daughter and I'm going out today, so I'm taking her with me-"

"To meet with a monster-"

Remy's eyes widened with shock and she took a purposeful breath before answering, biting back the razor-sharp words she burned to cut him with. "What did you say?"

To his credit, Bucky didn't flinch. "You heard me. You know, I think you're letting your heart get in the way of your head; you're so hot to go see this guy, you're willing to put your daughter in danger-"

That was it, the final stroke. Remy bit back a scream of rage, but it escaped anyway, a growling snarl and she brandished her finger at Bucky like a knife, sparks dancing at the tip like rampant static electricity. "Don't you EVER question my intentions with my daughter. Loki's a monster? What about you? The notorious ghost assassin of the 20th century? Your hands are far from clean, Barnes. Are YOU safe around my daughter? Am I an unfit mother? That's what you're saying? What, are you going to take Aurora away from me? I've told you what I did in the past, does that mean I shouldn't be near my daughter too?"

Her rage threatened to overwhelm her, and blue flames began to roil and spit from her fingers. This gave Remy pause, she'd not lost control like this for a long time and she squeezed her eyes shut, took a number of deep breaths, drawing on the meditation principles she'd learned from Bruce to cool her temper. Snapping her eyes back open, enough in control that she wouldn't burn anything, Remy yanked the diaper bag onto her shoulder and carefully picked Rora up. The baby slept peacefully, swaddled securely in a blanket and the wrap was already tied around Remy's body, but she didn't have time to set her in it; she needed to get out of here, away from Bucky, away from the family that still didn't trust her to make her own decisions.

Bucky's face was pale, whether from Remy's harsh words or her near-loss of control, she couldn't say, and right now, Remy didn't care. She elbowed past the man she considered a brother, jabbing him harder than necessary as she passed and spat. "Don't bother speaking to me again, James Buchanan Barnes; if all you're going to say is SHIT like that."

Remy'd exited the Tower, still seething and stopped out on the sidewalk, raising her face to the sun and fighting to calm down. Did they all still feel like that? Did they all question her fitness as a mother? The possibility was too devastating to consider and Remy pushed it forcefully away. She knew the truth, and she'd been outcast before, too many times in her life; she'd deal with this shit later. She was going to enjoy this afternoon. Taking a few minutes to unswaddle and settle Rora against her chest, secure in the wrap, she squared her shoulders and set off.

Loki looked up from the bench he was seated at along the Mall as they approached and surprise flitted across his face before he smiled in wide, unguarded delight. In truth, he was eager, almost painfully so, to meet Remy's daughter, but assumed he would be kept from doing so for quite a bit longer by Remy's loving but overprotective family and teammates. The fact that Remy, and maybe even, by extension, her family, trusted him enough to bring the infant to him made his heart ache in the best way.

And, although he was indeed eager to meet Rora, Remy's beauty and aura drew him in again immediately and the fierce love he'd felt in his heart for the last five years flared anew, and he couldn't believe, for the umpteenth time, how lucky he was, to be given this second chance, to be given any chance with this vibrant woman.

"My goddess," he greeted tenderly, the nickname falling naturally off his lips, for Remy was indeed divinity, whether she realized it or not. Standing, he stepped towards her, kissing her cheeks to stop himself from capturing and absolutely devouring her mouth. It was getting harder and harder to control himself around Remy and he could see the same struggle in Remy's eyes when they pulled away. "You look beautiful." As always.

Remy blushed adorably, eyes falling briefly to Loki's lips and he wondered if she had any idea just how desirable and intoxicating she was, did she realize the power she carried; the power to break him, to make him whole again?

"Thank you," she replied with genuine demure.

"You've brought-" Loki began but Rora had awakened and decided to introduce herself with a loud squeal.

"Hello, baby," Loki crooned, already smitten.

Remy grinned, turning slightly so Loki could gaze at Rora. The newborn gazed back, seemingly as drawn to Loki as he was to her and gave him a gummy smile, waving a fist at him.

"Loki, this is Aurora, my daughter."

"She's the exact image of you, my love." He leaned closer, smiling widely as Rora babbled excitedly. "Hello, little one, I hear you rule with an iron fist over at Avengers Tower, is that correct?"

Rora squealed in response, delighted to be the center of attention and Loki smiled down at her, eyes roving over the child's face, enraptured by the infant, noticing with fascination just how closely she did indeed resemble Remy. His heart ached with the desire to be near this woman and this child, with the desire to be theirs, and them his. He wanted this family with a desperation he'd not known before, an urge almost stronger than the yearning to be accepted as Thor's brother and equal, enough to take his breath away. Hesitatingly, he reached over and gently brushed the back of his finger across Rora's cheek, marveling at the softness of her skin.

"Hello, Aurora."

Rora fell quiet, gazing up at Loki with wonder, seeming to be thinking before cooing again, a sound that sounded suspiciously like an attempt at a word, perhaps even the honored 'Dada'.

Loki's eyes were shining when the left Rora's small face to gaze up at her mother instead. "She is perfection, my goddess."

Remy was finding it difficult to breathe, stunned by the seemingly instant and deep connection between her daughter and the man she loved. Rora didn't take to strangers right away, she had her circle of accepted family and seemed content with them, always cried when held or spoken to by strangers, but her reaction to Loki was awe-inspiring, and went a long way towards settling the very last of the whispers of doubt in her heart. Young children and dogs, she knew, were the best instinctive judges of character; it was only as an adult that you became clouded with your own prejudices, jaded by your cynicism.

Loki lifted his face to the sun and took a deep breath, a smile splitting his face in half. "Come, my darlings; there is much to see."

#loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki x oc #loki x remy #loki fic #loki of asgard #loki odinson

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roaminginspiration · 6 years

Text

The Drawing

Author’s note: thank you to James Cameron, Jack Dawson and Rose Dewitt-Bukater who inspired me this glorious story!

I have a more “mature” version available. DM me if you would like to read it.

“I didn’t know you liked drawing,” she said the first time she found out about his hidden hobby. They were in his apartment in New York a few months after Steve had officially joined S.H.I.E.L.D, having beers he drank mechanically more for its socializing part than any physical effect. He had got up to get two new bottles in the fridge when she reached out for the leather sketchbook on the coffee table. She asked permission to look at it with a flicker in his direction; he agreed with a shrug.

“You’re not half bad,” Natasha commented musingly, flicking through the pages as he came back to sit in the couch next to her.

“This is probably the strongest compliment I’ve ever received,” he answered, making the corner of her mouth rise slightly.

Buildings, objects, streets, his most hazardous sketches were landscapes. “Not bad at all,” she mumbled, barely audible.

Steve watched her from the corner of his eye. He’d never considered he had any talent but it certainly was a peaceful way of spending time the nights he could hardly find sleep.

“So where are your French girls?” she exclaimed swiftly going through all the pages. He shot her a quizzical look. She stared back blankly.

“Titanic?” she ventured with an arched eyebrow. He shook his head apologetically. “You have some serious catching up to do.”

“I’m nearly through the list. I’ve just finished Star Wars,” he said after taking a sip of his beer and reclining on the back of the couch.

“Shame. I was kind of proud of my joke.” She paused when she saw some of his portraits: an elderly man sitting on a bench, feeding the birds; a mother and her child walking along the street and holding hands; a young lover looking at his girlfriend while she’s reading a book in the park.

Her fingers brushed over the features of their faces, her pupils dove into their frozen looks and expressions. For a brief second, she looked impressed — one recognizable expression he had never seen cross her face before. He could have drawn it — her— had she agreed to it, had they been in that kind of close relationship. But she was just his teammate —a colleague— he’d happen to have a few beers with some Friday evenings.

“Are you thinking about drawing me, Captain Rogers?” she interrupted his musing as if she had read his thoughts like an open book. She did that a lot.

A smirk was playing on her lips. She watched him intently and silence seemed to settle in between for longer than ever before. She raised her index finger and slowly waved right and left before his face. “Never,” she warned.

He chuckled. “Why not?” he said.

“Because you’re clearly good at it,” she answered matter-of-factly like it was the most incontestable argument and reached for her beer.

He frowned, quite perplexed. She looked at him closely and her jovial expression seemed to have dropped a little.

“You can look into souls, Steve.” Her voice was deep, yet serene. “And I’m a spy. I couldn’t possibly grant you access to mine.”

Her answer — and the brutal honesty of it — took him by surprise. Her features looked noticeably tense as it was quite an unusual sight. It hit him that Natasha Romanoff would not allow herself to be vulnerable with anyone.

“At least not without a fight,” she added with humor again as she nonchalantly dropped the sketchbook back on the table.

She didn’t know — or maybe she did — but she had just sparked in him a whole new curiosity, raw and inextinguishable.

Natasha was a steady constant in his life, more than he could count. She was present when he needed help for taking down HYDRA and S.H.I.E.L.D.; she stood by him, watching the sky, when it looked impossible to save all the Sokovians trapped on the flying city; she walked by his side when it came to training the new Avengers; she was here to comfort him when he lost Peggy; she jeopardized her freedom when she let him and Bucky escape the US government. And now she was running along after they became international fugitives.

She traded a long-deserved steady life for one of a runaway. They never stayed in the same motel — often slummy, although she preferred the word quaint— more than three nights. Steve borrowed more cars than he could remember. They traveled light, and Sam was often the one bringing them a new bag of clothes and toiletries for their timely spaced secret rendezvous.

One morning, Nat casually dropped she would dye her freshly trimmed hair blonde. “Your growing stubbles inspired me,” she teased.

One night in New Orleans on Mardis Gras, they silently partook in the city celebrations across the French Quarter. There was no better place than a busy, festive and heavily boozed crowd to disappear completely. They had “discreetly” taken up residence in the uninhabited house of a sketchy entrepreneur who was often gone to South America for long periods of time for business.

Leaning on the railing of the balcony, Natasha pensively watched the chariot parade down the streets congested with the people partying. It was her idea to come down and join them.

“You can’t say away from the world forever,” she said. Stepping out of the main door, she took his hand and pulled him into the crowd to blend in.

They strolled down the streets amid the party people who were dancing along the spellbinding percussions of the drums and upbeat melodies of the saxophones. Petals and confetti were flying in the air in a unique outburst of colors and glitters. For that one night, quietness was banned from the city.

She slid her fingers between his and he let himself be pulled him further down into the crowd as she grabbed a pint of the beer off the silver tray hovering nearby and gulped it down with an unquenchable thirst born from the hectic crowd surrounding them.

She slowly let herself be immersed, lured into the general trance. She began to trot along the rhythm of the drums.

She spun around to face him. They could barely keep steady amid the force of the moving parade. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and she was breathing loudly as a fine layer of sweat was beginning to glint on her neck and down her bosom. She pressed herself against him and wrapped an arm around his neck, gently pulling him down to her.

He could feel the heavy pounding of her heart reverberate across his chest. Her velvety lips grazed against the lobe of his ear and her warm breath tickled his skin — he shut his eyelids and bit his bottom lip to make himself switch off his aroused senses.

“Let yourself go,” she whispered into his ear, the tip of her fingers lightly brushing the back of his neck, right below his hairline. “I can help you.”

She pulled away and gazed into his eyes, begging him with an adorable smile mixed with a slightly malicious leer. He took a deep breath in: they had been on the run for nearly two months and so far they had been doing it well, surely he could allow themselves a night off the constant worry and paranoia. She had given up everything for him; he owed her a night of freedom, no matter how short and illusory it was — as they were both bitterly aware.

He gave her a nod and her smile grew wider. The jazz band was now walking up to their level and she grabbed his other hand as an invitation to dance.

The compelling motion of her hair rippling in the air — a few locks messily falling over half her face—, the way her body captivatingly moved so close to him were all a temptation he found more and more difficult to resist. He dropped his hands to her waist and with a faint grin, she gently slid her hands up his bare forearms up to his elbows, closing the gap between their two bodies.

They had never been physically so close for so long, and it was more delectable than it had been in the many wild dreams he had had of her.

She slowly swayed her hips under his palms as they seemed to the ones controlling her and pressed herself against him again, breathing in his scent with her eyes closed, swiftly running the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip before biting lip.

She ran her fingers into the long, blond locks of his hair and his forehead dropped into her neck. He could smell her natural scent coming through the vanilla balm of her perfume. The maroon, cotton top she was wearing was slightly moist, just as his shirt.

Some locks of her hair were stuck on her temples with the sweat. His hands wandered onto parts of her body he had never dared to imagine to explore one day. Natasha was laughing ecstatically into the crook of his neck — her state of exhilaration was contagious.

Nobody paid attention to them, and for the first time in the past months of running, he felt like they were truly alone.

Still dancing, she nearly tripped, lost her balance and fell backward but he caught her with a strong arm wrapped around her back. She let her head drop backward, her lips almost brushing his mouth in the motion and looked up at the starry sky with the same excitement as a moment before. He frowned a little, getting a little concerned. Her pupils dropped back to look at him.

“I need air,” she gasped with the same euphoric smile across her face. “Let’s go.”

He nodded and she stood upright before making her way out of the crowd.

The walked along the deserted streets back to their improvised, super luxurious AirBnB.

She stepped into the house without a word and went into the bathroom. A few seconds later, he heard the water running.

Steve went out to the balcony again, watching the crowd far in the distance as the music began to die down. The air had become more bearable and a pleasant cool wind brushed against him while the sky still smelled of the ongoing festivities. He lost himself on the beauty of this new stillness for long minutes.

“Steve?” he eventually heard a soft voice coming from inside the room. He stepped back inside and found her standing in a silky robe, her hair damp. She looked fresh and soberer than an hour before.

“You okay?” he asked quietly. She ignored his question and her eyes flicker to his travel bag.

“You haven’t drawn in a while,” she remarked pensively. “Why?”

The random question surprised him. He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I haven’t been able to see the beauty in the world lately.”

His words linger on in the quiet room. The answer seemed to dissatisfy her.

“But can you see it in me?” she asked barely audibly, staring at the book.

He watched her as she stood before him. “You…you’re perfection,” he murmured.

Her green eyes looked up at him, boldly hopeful.

She had a faint, sad smile. “I’m hardly perfect. I’ve done so many wrongs.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about,” he cut her in.

They looked into each other’s eyes and that was enough for her to understand what he meant.

She walked to pick up the sketchbook then over to him. “I want you to draw me, Steve,” she said, handing him the book. She dove her eyes into his. “Please.”

He furrowed his brows. “I thought you —”

“I know,” she said. She shook her head then looked at him again. “I changed my mind. I want you to see me…” Her pupils darkened. “All of me.”

Her fingers ventured down and his eyes followed along as they gently took hold of the silk belt. She untied it then, putting her hands on each side of the robe, gently took it off. The silky fabric slid off her shoulders to her feet, revealing her splendid naked figure.

She raised her chin and plunged her green eyes into his. He swallowed the lump and cleared his throat.

Part of him wanted to protest, or at least warned her his drawing might not be so good due to months of lack of practice, but he realized Natasha wasn’t just asking for a portrait. She was offering her soul up to him. She was letting herself be vulnerable in every way possible because she trusted him, and he simply couldn’t deny her that. Truth be told, he had been waiting for the moment she would lay herself bare to him for years now (not that he had ever imagined it would happen so literally).

He nodded bashfully and pulled a chair up to him while she went to lie down in the antique sofa in the middle room.

She lay on her side, draping one arm along her body, the hand gently pressed on her hip. Steve revelled in the sight before him and the perfection of her silhouette. She was, truly, exquisite to behold.

“Draw me like one of your French girls,” she said and they both chuckled at the movie reference (he had had time to catch up with).

With a pounding heart, he opened his sketchbook, firmly held his pencil and finally let his eyes fall on her. The glimmer coming from the wall lights sheened on her fair, smooth skin. His eyes traveled across her body like his hands were aching to do. He traced the curves of her hip, the arc of her small waist, the fullness of her bosoms, the sharpness of her collarbone. He noticed how her chest rose and dropped heavily for each breath she took, and the pink on her cheeks that was not due to shyness but to the thrill of the moment. Perhaps had she seen he had it, too.

The curves of her body were calling for his running fingers, her velvety skin was calling for his soft palm, her slightly trembling lips were calling for his mouth. He chased those thoughts away with a new brush of the lead onto the paper.

He, who hadn’t been inspired to sketch anything for the past moments, somehow couldn’t stop drawing who he had found to be a bottomless source of inspiration. After the first portrait, he drew her again, and again, in different positions.

She next lay on her stomach, prepped the upper part of her body onto her elbows and crossed her ankles up in the air, looking at him, half of her voluminous, wavy hair falling across half of her face, with a smile on.

Delightfully aware of the effect she had on him, their roles reversed, and he found himself trapped in the scope of her eyes. She watched him with a satisfied smirk on lips as he was contemplating her figure all the way across the room. She couldn’t resist nibbling her little finger to hold back her giggles.

Scoping each other in an endless loop, the drawing continued long into the night, even after the last drumming sounds died in the dark.

When his fingers couldn’t hold the pencil anymore until it dropped onto the carpet, Natasha fell backward into the cushions, looking up at the ceiling. One of her arms fell off the sofa and her fingertips brushed the fabric on the floor into small circles. She tilted her head and looked at him.

“I never would have thought that a drawing session would be so thrilling,” she breathed out before biting her lip.

She allowed him to come closer by waving her index finger. Steve got up and made his way to her. He halted and stooped to pick up her robe. Reaching the sofa, he stood above her and relished the sight one last time. He held the robe open. Defying him with a suggestive look, she raised her arm, daring him to retract on his offer. Her fingers clutched the fabric and she yanked it down strongly, making him come down to his knees before her. His face was only a few inches away from her.

Her expression turned serious. “Didn’t what you found scare you?” she asked, her pupils searching into his.

He shook his head. If he could indeed look into souls like she believed then what he had found was far more beautiful than the heavenly sight of her figure. “Like I said, you’re perfection.”

She snorted lightly, seeming to hold herself back as she briefly glanced away. When she looked at him again, her eyes were faintly gleaming with tears.

“Touch me, Steve.”

His pupils tremble. She reached for his hand down the sofa and lifted it up. “I want you to touch me.”

His lips were dry, as was his throat. His heart, which had finally accustomed to the thrill of the past hours, raced again.

“I don’t know if I could stop,” he confessed with a murmur.

She smiled. “I don’t want you to stop.”

He moved his hand closer, hovering above her body. The tip of his fingers carefully brushed against her side, slowly going down her shoulder, along her waist, to the border of her trunk leaving a trail of goosebumps; his thumb brushed over her hipbone.

He paused and frowned when his fingers brushed over the scar on her stomach. He crouched over and laid a kiss, gentle and loving, on it as her tummy rose up and down at a panting pace.

“Perfection,” he repeated to himself.

He made love to her like the exalted artist to his muse.

#romanogers #Steve Rogers #Natasha Romanoff #Black Widow #Captain America #writing #the drawing #inneedofinspiration #fanfic #capwidow #stevenat #steve x natasha

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