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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

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Possibilities [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

Title: Possibilities Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Female!Reader Word count: 3k Published: 6 July 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Warnings: Mention of food and alcohol Summary: Tom and you have been friends for a long time and because of that same reason you value your friendship more than to ruin it with some silly feelings. But the event you attend together offers you some surprises that might change your relationship forever.

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Events, galas, award ceremonies. You weren't a popular actress nor a famous singer, or social media influencer. You had a simple 9-5 job that would hardly ever get you into these events. But regardless of your status in society, you were known and not because of any talent you possessed that could have made you famous, but because your best friend was none-other than Tom Hiddleston.

You have been friends for years, you adored everything about the man. He was sweet and kind, always polite, but just as playful. It was a friendship you felt lucky to be in, a friendship that you held so close to your heart, it would have broken every little piece of you if it ever ended. Often, you found yourself staring at him with a little smile in the corner of your lips, watching his every move, the way he joked around with his co-stars on set, the way he exercised in the gym for a role, the way he winked at you with a mischievous smile as he caught your eyes on him.

"Do you need my autograph?" he asked with a wide grin as he opened the door of the luxurious car he booked for the event. Once again you have forgotten your eyes on him— his dashing looks, the perfectly fitted suit, the playful twinkle in his eyes. He never stopped teasing you about it.

"Shove off, Tom," you nudged him as he got out of the car and held out a hand for you, waiting for you to accept his help. So, you did. Wrapping your fingers around his hand, you let him help you out of the vehicle as you rearranged your stunning dress and ran your hand down its length to remove any creasing. Cameras were flashing, reporters' loud voices filled the pathway to the entrance, a long red carpet leading your way inside the building towering over you like a modern castle.

"If I didn't know better, I would think your interest in me goes beyond friendship," he chuckled as he held his arm out to you, waiting for yours to be placed over his, his eyes following every little movement of yours. A sudden rush of heat travelled up to your cheeks, your breathing slightly laboured as you tried to calm your heavily beating heart. He was not wrong after all. It's been years since you have been harbouring these feelings, but you hadn't had the heart to confess them. Tom was more important to you than to ruin it over some silly feelings.

Sometimes, when you caught Tom's eyes on you, watching you intently, a soft smile spread across his face, it made you think if maybe, just maybe he was harbouring similar feelings towards you. But the idea was quickly swept away by your doubts, the thought of such an amazing man falling for you seeming impossible. You knew your worth, you didn't write yourself down, but Tom has always been perfect in your eyes, and you couldn't imagine him wanting you even if at times a certain silly part of your brain whispered otherwise.

"I love your healthy self-confidence," you finally gathered your ability to be able to reply, earning a comical huff from him. You have been trying hard, to deny your romantic interest in him, but rumours about the two of you have become a reoccurring news and it didn't help your case to shove your feelings in the back of your mind.

"Ready?" He asked as his gaze turned towards the red carpet. Heaving a heavy sigh, you nodded and murmured a 'yes' as a response.

As soon as the cameras started flashing, hundreds of photos of Tom and you being taken, you conjured a sweet little smile that the tabloids loved. You were always nervous when it came to these events. It was Tom's job to answer some of the questions journalists asked of him, which meant they were to ask about your relationship. It was becoming repetitive, making you feel uncomfortable. The questions themselves didn't bother you but repeating over and over again that the man you have fallen for is merely a friend, felt like a stab in your heart, each time you responded.

"Tom! Tom!" One of the reporters shouted his name and he led you to the side of the red carpet, halting right beside the metal cordons. Questions were flying around, photos had been taken, but you didn't concentrate. Your senses were heightened as Tom pulled you in his side, his arm now wrapped around your waist, gently, but firmly holding onto you. Looking up at him, you studied his face, his ice-blue eyes focusing on the reporter, an excited smile across his face. He seemed so relaxed, so collected, meanwhile even events after events you were still nervous. As though he could feel it, he turned to you with a soft, reassuring smile, giving you a nod, silently asking if you were alright. For others, the movement could have easily been missed, but to you, it was like an earthquake, shaking your heart, making you fall even deeper for him. In a reply, you nodded and offered him a smile as you squeezed his hand that rested on your waist.

"So, Tom, this might be a bit more personal, but everyone has been talking about the two of you," he started, and your eyes immediately darted towards the man. You knew the question, heard it a thousand times already, so you prepared your heart to give the same reply as always. 'We are just friends,' you repeated time after time, hoping they would finally understand and let you be, but they didn't seem to budge. "You have been friends for a long time, and your fans have been talking about how close the two of you have become. Do you think, maybe in the future, there's a possibility for romance to blossom?" He asked with an expectant expression, a sly smile in the corner of his lips.

"As we have said before," you spoke up, ready to reply as you always did, "we—"

"You never know what the future holds for you, there are many possibilities" Tom cut in with a mischievous smile, your eyes growing wide as you looked up at him. Tom chuckled at your expression as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. "Tell me I'm wrong," he arched a brow questioningly, his words starting your heart off at a faster pace, your cheeks feeling warmer under his intent gaze, those blue eyes you often found yourself lost in.

"Well—, I mean I can't argue with that statement," you replied, feeling slightly awkward. A confused smile started growing wider on your face as Tom led you away. "Why did you do that?" You asked as you finally stepped inside the building, his arm still resting around your waist as you headed towards a large room filled with all sorts of foods and drinks, people dancing in the middle, the dim lightning offering a rather intimate mood. "You just created even more gossip," you scolded him, but seemingly he didn't mind. He led you to a table where his name was printed on a nametag and pulled the chair out for you before he took his seat beside you.

"I didn't say anything," he smiled at you as innocently as he could manage, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

"You did. Exactly because you were so secretive, people will want to read between the lines. They will think there's more to us than friendship," you huffed as you hid your face in your palm and heaved a heavy sigh.

"And is that so bad?" He frowned, earning the same expression from you.

"What?" A silent scoff left your lungs. "What are you trying to say?"

"Is that such a big problem if people think we are together?" He asked, his confident tone stunning you.

"Of course, not. I don't care what rumours are being spread about me, but I don't want them to gossip about you," you reached for his hand on the table and wrapped your fingers around it, giving it a gentle squeeze. His expression stayed emotionless; you couldn't read him entirely, but you knew he seemed off.

"I will go grab us a drink," he said as he stood up, leaving you frowning. You weren't sure what you said that made him upset, and regardless of trying to put on a straight face, you knew he wasn't happy with your response.

You watched as he walked over to a small table filled with the most delicious looking cakes and a couple of bottles of champagne, ready for the guests before they brought out the main course. Tom grabbed a battle of champagne and two glasses, filling up both halfway, before he placed the battle back into an ice bucket.

"What is it?" You asked as he returned and gave you one of the glasses.

"What do you mean?" He asked, taking a seat beside you.

"We've known each other for quite a long time. I can read you like an open book. What's bothering you?" Trying to get him to open up, you shuffled closer to him, your chair scraping the floor, turning heads in your direction. "Oops," you scratched the back of your neck awkwardly, earning a chuckle from Tom.

"Very subtle," he mocked you.

"Don't change the subject Mr. Hiddleston," you raised a questioning brow, a tiny smile hidden in the corner of your lips.

"Nothing is bothering me," he added, but your suspicious gaze didn't falter. "I'm being honest, darling," the sly little fox knew his nickname for you would make you soften up and he used every opportunity to say it when he felt cornered.

"Fine," you squinted. "But we aren't done! I'm not blind, I can see something is on your mind."

"Yes, ma'am, I can't wait for this conversation to come back around," he mocked you once again, making you huff as you gently punched his shoulder.

Throughout the night, said conversation was forgotten, the alcohol consumption rose, the amount of people dancing around the room grew, meanwhile others sat at their tables, trying to digest the previously served delicious meals. You couldn't deny that you had a good laugh with Tom and his co-stars from all sorts of movies he had been in. It felt like a little family, people coming together to just have a joyous time.

The way Tom smiled at his friends, praising each other, before turning to mock one another forced your eyes to rest on his excited features. He looked so alive, so happy and the feeling of the man you loved being in his element meant everything to you. Tom was radiating enthusiasm and you couldn't look away as you watched his ever-growing smile, his nose scrunched up at an unexpected subject, his head falling back as a loud laughter erupted from his lungs. He was always handsome, but when he was happy, it filled you up with a certain warmth that you couldn't explain. Like you always wanted to make him happy just to be able to see that cheerful smile spread across his face.

He turned to you, catching your gaze on him once again. His arm sneaked behind you, pulling you closer and leaning down to your ear. "You are staring at me again," you couldn't see it, but you could feel his smile spreading wider.

"I like to see you happy," you shrugged with a soft smile as you leaned back to be able to meet his gaze. His smile faltered, but his eyes softened.

"Dance with me," he said as he offered his palm to you, and you placed your hand in it.

"I take no responsibility for broken toes," you said with a silent chuckle as you followed him to the dancefloor.

"Don't worry, darling, it's worth the injury," he mirrored your expression as you stopped in the middle of the dance floor. A slow, romantic song started playing in the background, his arms finding their perfect position around your waist as yours sneaked around his neck.

It was a slow and peaceful dance, not requiring much knowledge and talent. You just enjoyed each other's presence, gazes meeting, smiles forming, swaying to the slow rhythm of the music. You didn't speak a word, but the silence wasn't uncomfortable. It never was with Tom. A soft smile, a quick glance, a simple gesture meant more than thousands of words when you were with him.

You laid your head against his chest, listening to his fast heartbeat, taking on a quicker pace just like yours did. "I miss you when you are not with me," he spoke for the first time as he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. You didn't move away; his embrace was too comfortable, and you couldn't care about people watching you.

"I always miss you. You are the one travelling all the time after all," you chuckled lightly, not wanting to ruin the moment.

"I could be only a mile away and I would still miss you," he replied as you pulled back a bit to meet his soft gaze, but there was no smile present across his handsome face. As the song finished, you found yourself standing in front of him, slightly confused about the conversation. "Do you want to go to the balcony? Have some fresh air?" He asked, taking on a more cheerful expression, but you knew him more than to believe it was genuine. In a response you nodded and linked your arm with his.

Following him through the sea of people, you finally arrived at the balcony, looking down to a smaller version of a park, a water fountain standing tall in its centre. You leaned against the rail as you watched the trees battling the silent wind, fallen leaves being blown across the walking path. Tom joined beside you, his eyes following the same direction as you did before they halted on your face. "You are being strange tonight," you spoke up, feeling his gaze resting on you before you turned to him, meeting his eyes.

"I'm just thinking," he added with a half-hearted smile.

"About?" You asked as you reached for his hand resting on the rail and placed yours on top of his. He turned his palm upside down and lifted your hand, hinting a small kiss on your knuckles as he heaved a heavy sigh. "Tom talk to me," you squeezed his fingers reassuringly, his eyes watching you, not leaving your gaze for a moment. "You have been rather quiet around me," you added.

His whole body turned to you, as though he was focusing his complete attention on you. Reaching towards you, he brushed your hair to the side, gently tucking it behind your ear. You leaned into the touch involuntarily, only realising your actions when he caressed your cheek with his thumb, before moving down and running it across your lips. The feeling burnt you, starting your mind off in a very dangerous territory, one that you have been avoiding. 'He is your friend' you tried to remind yourself. But once the tip of his thumb brushed along your lips once again, you couldn't stop yourself. Stepping forward, you placed your hands on his chest, steading yourself and rose on your tiptoes, pressing your lips against his.

Your own bravery surprised you, but Tom didn't seem affected. As soon as your lips met, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer. He didn't hesitate, he wasn't surprised. He just held you, gently running his lips along yours, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. But as much as you wanted to enjoy the moment, realisation hit you. You were kissing your best friend. You gently pushed him away, stumbling back from the force, covering your mouth with your palm. "I'm so sorry," you breathed, panic rising in your chest. "I have no idea what happened, I don't know why I did that, I'm so sorry," your words were rushed, your heartbeat loudly pulsing in your ears.

But Tom's gaze twinkled. A soft, warm smile grew wider across his face as he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you. "I'm not," he said as he pressed his forehead against yours. "I've been wanting to kiss you," he breathed as he closed his eyes momentarily, slightly shaking his head. "I've been wanting to tell you how much I love you; I've been trying to gain the courage to say it out loud," he scoffed. "I'm a fool for dragging it out for so long, but I love you," his voice shook as he said the words, but his arms tightened around you, safely holding you against his chest. It took you a second to understand what he meant, that your feelings weren't unrequited, that he has been harbouring the same feelings you have.

A heavy sigh left your lungs, as though a weight fell off your chest. Your lips curved into a smile as you placed your hands on his cheeks, running the tip of your thumbs across his jawline. He mirrored your expression whilst leaning into your touch, planting a small kiss on your palm. "I love you too," you replied finally," the words rolling off the tip of your tongue easier than you expected. "I love you so much," you giggled, wanting to repeat the words over and over again, until you finally understood that it was real, that you weren't dreaming. "You never know what the future holds for you, huh?" You asked, repeating his words from earlier in the evening, earning a loud chuckle from him. "So, is this one of those many possibilities?" you raised a single brow.

"Could be. I have a couple more ideas," he said, his soft smile turning into a confident grin.

"You are terrible," you gently hit his chest as you grabbed his suit-jacket and pulled him down to you, meeting his lips halfway, smiling into the intimate moment you have been craving for so long.

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holymultiplefandomsbatman · 2 years

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The Mission Comes First

Jonathan Pine x fem!Reader

Summary: Jonathan met you long before he came in contact with Angela Burr. When he goes undercover, you join him. Unfortunately, Roper catches and then tortures you to find out who sent you... while Jonathan has to stand by and watch, just like he promised you. The mission comes first, no matter what.

Words: 2.5k

Warnings: angst, angst with a bittersweet ending; torture, mentions of torture, implied torture; Roper and Corky being piles of absolute garbage

This fic is a random pile of angst that @muddyorbsblr helped me come up with. Thank you so much for throwing ideas around with me, that was a lot of fun. This fic kinda came out of that. I just sat down today and wrote 1.800 words to finish it, I don’t even know how. It was super fun.

I hope everyone likes it since I don’t usually write for Jonathan (but I’ve been wanting to lol).

@lokisgoodgirl Maybe you’ll enjoy this too. I actually managed to finish it today, big surprise! 😄

Jonathan stared at the wall across the room, trying to block out the sounds around him. His hands clenched into fists, buried deep in the pockets of his blue suit pants.

He’d known this day could come. The two of you had talked about it multiple times, him trying to pretend it was just a far away scenario while you’d been insistent that you needed to be prepared for the worst.

You were always the more dutiful one.

You were serious where he was hot-headed, calculated where he’d try to act with brute force.

Jonathan blinked harshly as a loud slap echoed through the room, followed by a low groan.

A paint stain on the wall. Whoever was in charge with designing this place had messed up.

You’d grabbed his arm, that one morning before there would be no going back anymore. Your hand held him back, keeping him from entering the car that would bring you to the safe house where you’d be given a make-over and new identities.

Your eyes were gravely serious as you looked at him.

“The mission comes first, no matter what. Promise me.”

Jonathan didn’t know how to react at first. Angela was already waving for them to hurry up and get in the car.

Your grip on his arm only became stronger as you pulled him towards you, your jaw set and your eyes deadly serious.

Literally.

“Promise me. The mission comes first. No matter what.”

Another scream tore through the room. Jonathen gritted his teeth.

No matter what.

He’d told you the same thing, finally watching your eyes grow soft again as you pulled him into a kiss. He’d wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly as Angela called for them to get into the car.

You’d smiled at him before you finally opened the door and scooted onto the worn-down seat.

Angela berated you once the car set into motion, talking throughout almost the entire drive to the safe house.

Jonathan tried to keep his eyes open. Squeezing them shut would be too obvious, it’d get him caught. Both of you.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Jonathan hadn’t collected enough information on Roper’s shady deals yet. If he cracked now, they had nothing.

Roper would kill him, and he’d have you taken care of as well – or he’d use you to gain information on their employer and then throw you away like a burnt-out cigarette.

It wouldn’t be that smart, Jonathan mused, killing him first. You were far more resilient than him, a lot harder to crack.

To get to him, Roper wouldn’t have to do much. Simply torturing you was enough – exactly like he was doing now, albeit unintentionally.

To crack you… That was a lot more difficult.

Another scream tore through his resolve. Jonathan’s eyes shifted to a tiny hole in the wall next to the paint stain. Someone had really messed up the design.

The mission comes first, he tried to remind himself.

The words repeated in his head as your screams steadily grew louder, until he almost yelled the phrase into the room.

The mission. The mission comes first. No matter what.

You’d probably known that everything would lead to this. That was why you’d been so insistent, forcing Jonathan to make that promise – knowing for certain that he never broke a promise. Ever.

Just like he’d promised you that, one day, when everything was over and you were free, he would marry you.

It was Jonathan’s own way of making sure he’d have a reason to get through this. If he could cling to the image of you next to the altar, he’d be okay – provided you’d even get any priest to marry you in the first place.

Angela would have to help him there. She owed him multiple times over.

Jonathan took a deep breath. He had this under control, he could do this. He’d stand by and keep up this mask, and soon they’d give up.

Not long now…

Your next scream almost ruptured his eardrums, your broken voice cracking towards the end.

Jonathan flinched. His eyes darted away from the wall, away from his focal point and settled on your crumpled body on the floor. His breath stuttered out of him between parted lips, his heart clenching painfully in his chest.

Your face was swollen, having been beaten black and blue by Corky and his goons. Nasty gashes covered your skin, some still bleeding. Jonathan could even spot cigarette burns on your arms. Your eyes had swollen almost completely shut and your head hung low as you knelt in between the men who’d been torturing you for hours.

Jonathan took a step forward. He couldn’t let them hurt you anymore.

Screw the damn mission! He wouldn’t let them touch you again.

You meant more to him than his own life. If he could get you out of here, he’d do it in a heartbeat. Even if Roper killed him for it.

He had to protect you.

Roper looked at him, pressing a hand to his chest. He studied Jonathan’s face with a frown.

“What do you think you’re doing? Trying to play Romeo and save the damsel?”

Jonathan didn’t answer. He only had eyes for your broken body on the floor.

You slowly shifted to look at him. He caught a glimpse of your eyes through swollen eyelids, the same eyes that had stared at him with so much love before all of this madness started. Your stare was haunting, freezing him to the spot.

You shook your head subtly, your eyes not leaving him.

Jonathan could almost hear your voice in his head even though you didn’t say a word. You promised. The mission, no matter what.

Roper slapped his hand against Jonathan’s chest. “Hey! I’m talking to you!”

Jonathan took a deep breath. He stepped back into the line of Roper’s other goons before finally looking at the man in front of him. Bile rose in his throat and he had to fight the urge to throw up.

“Sorry,” he got out through gritted teeth, “go on.”

Roper stared at him for a moment longer. He waved his hand towards Corky, his eyes not leaving Jonathan.

Corky apparently got the message and somehow amped up the torture even further.

Your next scream was the loudest so far, and the most drawn-out one as well. Your voice was barely recognizable, the wretched cry burying its claws deep into Jonathan’s chest. He fought the urge to cry as Roper’s cruel eyes stared right into his soul.

Could they see his pain? Did they know just how much he loved you? That having to stand by and do nothing while they tortured you was a fate so much worse than death?

Roper finally turned away. He walked down the line of his goons and stood at the head of their little group, watching the torture in the middle with stone-cold eyes.

What was Jed doing? Did Roper lock her in her room to make sure she wouldn’t interfere with his cruelty?

Jonathan’s vision blurred. He blinked, subtly trying to get rid of at least some tears. It worked. He dug his neatly cut nails into his palms, hoping to use the pain to control himself.

He didn’t know how much longer Corky and the others tortured you until it finally, finally stopped.

Jonathan could barely eat the next morning. He hadn’t slept a wink and he was pretty sure everyone saw it, judging by the whispering between Roper and Corky when he’d entered the room.

He sat quietly at the breakfast table, forcing a piece of bread down his throat. No matter how much water he drank to swallow it, though, his throat remained dry as the desert.

Jed looked at him a couple of times during breakfast as well. It was quite odd considering that she usually didn’t care to even look up when he entered a room. Jonathan couldn’t help but wonder if she’d heard Roper talk about his behavior during the torture yesterday. Maybe she found it funny.

He got his answer surprisingly soon.

When Roper stood up to leave, the sign for everyone else that they had to get out, Jed walked past him.

“265, next to Corky,” she whispered, her fingertips trailing over Jonathan’s arm. He was still wearing the same blue suit jacket from yesterday.

“What?”

Jed paused to reach past him onto the table. “Your damsel. 265,” she said in a low voice, taking the other half of his disregarded breakfast bun and biting into it. Some jam stuck to her lips as she looked at him with those unreadable blue eyes.

Before Jonathan could even respond, Jed walked away, still chewing on his former breakfast. He stared after her in utter confusion.

Why would she suddenly help him?

Corky bumped into him, his elbow digging harshly into Jonathan’s side. “Don’t get ideas, Romeo,” he hissed in a nasty tone.

Jonathan bit his tongue, choosing to fix his jacket so he wouldn’t have to respond. He stared after Roper’s men, imagining how he would slowly kill every single one of them.

Corky looked back at him before he left. His eyes were brimming with hatred.

Jonathan didn’t know how he made it through the rest of the day. He barely remembered anything afterwards. The only thing on his mind was Jed’s words replaying like a broken record.

Your damsel. 265. Next to Corky. 265. Your damsel. Corky. 265. Damsel. 265. Corky.

His heart was in his throat when he tiptoed through the silent hallways of Roper’s mansion late at night. Jed had gone to bed hours ago, with Roper soon joining her. Even Corky had excused himself about two hours ago.

Jonathan’s steps were quiet on the carpeted floor. He wondered briefly why someone would even put carpet into the hallways.

Wasn’t that the sure-fire way to get robbed?

Light shone from beneath Corky’s door.

Jonathan froze. He pressed himself flat against the wall next to the door, listening for any sounds from inside.

For a while, there was nothing. Then the shuffling of clothes and soon two voices moaning.

Jonathan pulled a face, trying not to gag. He already hated the man. He really didn’t want to listen to him have sex, too.

265 wasn’t guarded. The door swung open soundlessly when Jonathan pushed the handle down, trying his best to make no unnecessary noise.

A single window allowed some moonlight into the room. No guards stood outside either. Roper had truly become careless.

A pole stood tall in the middle of the room. It was the only piece of furniture, shining silver in the moonlight. A sunken figure cowered at its feet.

Jonathan’s knees almost gave in. He pressed the door closed before hurrying towards the pole.

“Y/n.”

He fell to his knees in front of you, holding your swollen face gently between his palms. His thumb pushed some hair out of your face – the few strands that were still intact, that was. Roper sometimes enjoyed torturing people by literally having his goons burn the victim’s hair off until only a few patches of wiry hair remained.

Your eyelids fluttered open as much as you could manage with both eyes almost completely swollen shut.

“Jonathan,” you whispered. Your voice was so weak that he wouldn’t have known you even said anything if he hadn’t watched your lips move.

Jonathan couldn’t fight the tears anymore. He gently pressed his forehead to yours, careful not to hurt you. His eyes closed as he held your bruised face in his hands, his tears falling freely.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” he choked out between sobs, “I should’ve – I should have told Angela to leave you out of this. To make me work alone. I would’ve been slower, maybe, but you would’ve been –“

Jonathan choked on the word, tears dripping onto his suit pants.

Safe. You would have been safe.

You shook your head. The movement was slow, just as bereft of energy as the rest of your body.

“No,” you whispered. Your voice was stronger this time, just barely. “You might have… might have made it. But I would’ve been stuck a home, just… worrying. And worrying and worrying.”

Jonathan looked up to find you staring straight at him through swollen eyes. Your gaze held the same strength he’d fallen in love with when he first met you in that café all those years ago. Before this hell.

You’d smiled at him, that same professional smile he used for hotel guests every day, but your lips twitched when you handed him the change, your fingertips brushing his palm as you dropped the coins into his waiting hand.

Jonathan went to that same café almost every day after that, whenever his own job allowed it. You soon started greeting him by name, even memorizing his usual order. In hindsight it was almost embarrassing how long it took him to ask you out.

The blinding smile on your face when you accepted was worth every second.

Jonathan bit his lip, fighting another sob. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered again. His voice trembled, almost as much as his hands when he brushed his thumbs over your skin once more. “Please forgive me…”

You shook your head again. The cuffs tying you to the pole rattled as you surged forward, cursing under your breath.

“Don’t apologize,” you mumbled after a moment. Your voice was still so damn weak. “Please don’t. This isn’t your fault.”

Jonathan opened his mouth to argue but your serious gaze silenced him immediately.

“I’d rather get… beaten up and tortured… than having – having to sit at home alone. Never knowing when you come home. If you come home.”

Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut. Your lips tasted salty when he leaned in to kiss you, as gently as possible.

“I’ll marry you when this is over,” he said afterwards, his voice more stable this time.

You chuckled weakly. “You better…”

This time, Jonathan actually managed to smile. He shook his head, looking at your bruised face in amusement and disbelief.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

“Good. Because I’ve had the… the dress in my closet… for months.”

Your lips twitched with a hint of that smile from the coffee shop.

Jonathan could barely breathe for a second. You’d been beaten and tortured until you were hanging onto life by sheer willpower alone. Yet even while your body was so weak, you hadn’t lost your spirit. Your fight.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, his eyes fixed on your face. He didn’t know what else to say to express how deeply he cared about you.

Jonathan slowly got up and walked towards the door. His chest was tight as he thought about having to leave you alone, having to stand by again and letting Roper play his twisted games with you.

He stopped with his hand on the door handle, looking back at you.

Your split lips stretched into a weak grin.

“Give ’em hell, tiger.”

Jonathan nodded. He opened the door and stepped back into the hallway, leaving you alone in the darkness.

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#mywriting🧡#the night manager #jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #jonathan pine imagine #the night manager fanfiction #jonathan pine x you #jonathan pine x yn #jonathan pine fanfiction #torture mention #torture tw #jonathan pine x y/n

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