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arvinsescape · 1 year ago

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Covered In You

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (pride and prejudice style au)

Synopsis: set in the 1800s, you navigate a forbidden relationship with the boy next store

Masterlist

“Beautiful.”

You slammed your sketchbook shut at the unexpected voice and looked up to see who it belonged to. Looking over your shoulder at your drawing was a man you’d never seen before. He wasn’t dressed in a waistcoat like all the other men at the ball you were attending so you knew he had to be one of the workers.

“What?”

“Your drawing. It’s beautiful.” He explained and nodded towards you sketchbook. You opened it again to look at the gardenia you had been drawing instead of participating in the dance that was going on.

“Oh. Thank you.” You smiled shyly. “But it’s not finished yet.”

“I hope to see it when it is. I’m sure it’ll be lovely.” He replied. You stared into his eyes for a moment and felt a fondness for him blossoming inside you.

“Who are you?” You asked him. Before he could answer, your mother marched over to you and snatched the sketchbook from your hands.

“What are you doing over here in the corner? How do you expect to find a husband if you’re over by yourself with some silly drawing?”

“It’s not silly.” You insisted and tried to get your book back.

“You should be socializing. It’s bad enough I can’t get you to stop with these nonsensical scribbles at home. They certainly have no place at a ball. You’ve embarrassed me and yourself.” She scolded. You felt yourself shrink down and become small, the way she always made you feel. You didn’t have the energy to defend yourself, but Tom did.

“It was hardly a scribble, madam. I’d argue it was a lovelier flower than the ones growing outside this very building.” He spoke up. You looked over at him and smiled in appreciation.

“Who are you?” Your mother asked, making it sound like an order.

“Thomas. Mr. Bennett and his family hired me recently as their footman. As well as work the parties.”

“I’m Y/n.” You spoke up. Tom looked away from your mother and winked at you.

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss Y/n.” Tom said and bowed his head to you.

“Pleasure to meet you, Thomas. Just Y/n is fine.” You said and held out your hand for him. Tom took your hand and kissed the back of it before the two of you exchanged a shy smile. You noticed that when he dropped your hand, he flexed his and then made a fist.

“It is not. He will address you with a proper title. Is that clear?” Your mother said to Tom.

“Yes, miss.” Tom’s smile dropped and he nodded curtly. Your smile dropped as well and you gave your mother an angry look for being rude. She ignored your look of displeasure and ushered you away from Tom. You looked back over your shoulder at him and gave him an apologetic smile before disappearing into the crowd.

You spent the next hour hiding in different rooms, not exactly wanting to interact with any of the bachelors and even worse, your mother. You’d been introduced to enough men for one night and needed some moments of peace. Your solitaire was only momentary before Tom came in the room you were in.

“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t think anyone would be in here.” He said and went to leave.

“It’s okay. You can stay, Tom.” You told him. He smiled and came back into the room to sit beside you.

“Thanks, Miss Y/n.”

“You don’t actually have to call me that. You don’t actually have it do anything my mother says for that matter. I definitely avoid as much as her commands as possible. I suggest you do the same.”

“She doesn’t understand you.” Tom said simply, making you smile. You nodded in agreement as you looked into his eyes.

“No, she doesn’t. I want to be an artist and she wants me to be a wife. Nothing more. Just someone’s wife.”

“I don’t know you very well, but I do know you’re an amazing artist. I’ve seen you drawing outside by the field. Anytime I get a peak at your sketchbook, I’m in awe of you. I could never imagine someone with talent like yours settling to be a housewife. You can be so much more. I’m sorry your mother doesn’t see that.” He said and put his hand over yours. You stared at him in stunned silence over the way he just put your deepest thoughts into words. You turned your hand over to hold his and gave it a squeeze.

“Thank you for saying that.”

“Of course. Anytime.

“How could you tell? That she didn’t understand me?”

“Because she brought you here, when you clearly would rather be anywhere else. And talks to you like you’re still a child. And I’m willing to be she makes most of the decisions in your life.”

“She does. I try to control as many little things as I can because I feel like I have no control over my own life. If I can so much as chose not to go to an event simply because I don’t want to go, I’d die happy.”

“I take it that’s why you’re not fond of these dances.”

“I like the dancing part.” You admitted. “Just not the part where I’m forced to talk to strange, uninteresting men to see if any of them find me tolerable enough to take me away from my home and family.”

“There has to be a hundred men out there. Can they really all be boring?” Tom asked and leaned into you.

“I assure you, they can. They’re all the same. I say hello, they tell me I’m beautiful. Then my mom lists off all my skills that would make me a good house wife, to which he responds with how much money he has. And once my mom leaves, that’s when all conversation seizes. Because if a man isn’t talking about money or politics, he isn’t talking.”

“What do you like to talk about?” Tom asked you, making you stop and think.

“I don’t know actually. No one’s ever asked me that before.” You realized. Tom smiled sympathetically at you and nodded in understanding.

“I guess I just like to have conversations. I like to see how they naturally ebb and flow. And I love to learn something from someone new. I like to be challenged. No one here challenges me.” You said and looked sadly into the distance.

“Is that why you draw? To challenge yourself?” He asked.

“Oh, yes.” You smiled shyly. “My mother drags me to these galas and balls almost every night. And it’s always the same routine. Nothing ever changes. My life never changes. But when I draw, I’m in charge. I can make anything happen. I can erase things and try again or get rid of them completely. I’m the one making all the decisions. And I never know what’s gonna happen when I pick up my charcoal. It’s always something new. Unlike night like these. Everyone just does the same steps to the same songs with the same people. It’s all so repetitive.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right partner.” Tom said as he stood up and extended his hand to you. You looked at him in surprise and then decided to take his hand. He led you to the center of the room and politely rested his finger tips on your waist. You looked at him curiously and he gave you a reassuring smile before starting to waltz with you. It didn’t take you like to realize Tom was letting you lead the dance. You assumed the mama position and lead him around the room, twirling and dipping him as if he was the lady. You realzied that in this moment, he was giving you control. You were deciding where the dance went and where the two of you ended up. He was giving you the one thing you craved most, decisions of your own. You spun Tom again when you realized what he had done and you ended up with your faces just inches from each others. He gulped and looked down at your lips but before they could touch, the door flung open.

“What is the meaning of this? You’re supposed to be looking for a husband. Not fraternizing with the help.” Your mother scolded as she snatched your hand and dragged you away from Tom.

“Who says my husband isn’t amongst the help? Who says he’s here at all?” You replied, making Tom laugh. Your mom gave you both an angry look before taking a deep breath.

“Darling, Mr. Darcy is asking for a dance with you. Make sure you smile and charm him. His family owns the printing press in town. He gets 10,000 pounds a month.”

“He sounds lovely.” You said sarcastically and didn’t move to follow her.

“Oh hush. Come quickly. I’ve been talking you up to him.” She said and pulled your arm. You let out a sigh and looked back at Tom.

“I’ll see you later?” You asked him.

“Take care.” He smiled sadly and waved to you.

A few days later, your mother was prepping you to stand another ball while your mind was elsewhere. You balanced your sketchbook on your lap and smudged the edges of the face you were drawing. You didn’t intend this when you first began the drawing, but it now bore a striking resemblance to Tom. You looked at the drawing and sighed, wondering when your eyes would meet again.

“Can you please put that down and focus?” Your mother snapped at you. You shut your book and sighed before looked up at her. She grumbled something under her breath in annoyance before grabbing yoru arm and positioning you in front of the mirror.

“You’ll wear your white dress tonight and I’ll put pearls in your hair.” She told you as she pulled your tightest corset around your body.

“But I hate the white dress. It’s too tight. I can hardly catch a breath. I want to wear my purple dress.”

“If it’s too tight then maybe I shall have the cook limit what you are eating. And purple is not a proper color for a lady. You need to be in white so the men there know you are pure and ready for marriage.” Your mother shook her head at you as she started to tighten the strings of your corset. You let out a gasp at the first tug and felt your body ache from being constrained.

“I barely get enough food as it is. All they serve at these balls are champagne and crackers. How am I expected to dance all night if I can’t have a full stomach?” You mumbled as you looked at yourself in the full body mirror. You hated all the frills and the shiny body of the corset. You didn’t mind dresses, but the tight white gowns that screamed “bride” made you want to run the other way.

“Look at this. I can barely tighten this corset anymore. You’ve put on too much weight.” Your mom sighed from behind your back.

“You got this corset when I was 16, mama. I’ve grown.” You said quietly in embarrassment.

“You’ve grown too much. If you had gotten married to Mr. Collin’s that year like I wanted, this wouldn’t be a problem. You could’ve had a rich husband by now who could buy you a new corset anytime you pleased instead of me having to stuff you into this old one.”

“Mr. Collin’s was twice my age and a drunk. I could’ve never loved him. And if this doesn’t fit, maybe I shouldn’t wear one tonight.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She tutted. “Arms up. It’s time for the gown.”

You sighed and raised your arms above your head so your mother could slip your best gown over it. She buttoned it up, making the ability to breathe even harder, and turned you towards the mirror.

“You look very bridal.” She beamed and brushed your dress off. You moved around a little in the dress and hated it just as much as the last time you wore it.

“Can’t I wear the purple dress that father got me?” You asked again. “Please? I can’t even move in this. And it’s not me at all. Father always said he loved me in purple.”

“All the ladies tonight will be wearing white. Why must you insist on standing out?”

“I like purple. I don’t want to be void of all color. White is boring. Can’t I just show you the purple one?” You pleaded and turned to face her.

“Very well”. She agreed. You broke into a smile before rushing off to find the box your purple dress rested in. You shimmied out of your white dress and into the purple one before running back to show your mother.

“See, mama? Isn’t it lovely? Father had such good taste.” You beamed and spun around to show her. You felt beautiful for the first time in a while and most of all, felt like yourself.

“No. That’s not at all appropriate for the ball. Take it off at once.” Your mother snapped without even looking at the dress.

“I think she looks beautiful.” Tom’s voice came from the doorway. You and your mother jumped and turned to look at him. You smiled in surprise while your mother turned up her nose.

“What are doing in here? There are ladies dressing in here.” Your mother scolded.

“I have a telegram for Miss Y/n.” Tom ignored her and stepped into the room.

“Very well. You may enter.” Your mother said to try and seem in control of the room again.

“Thank you.” You smiled at Tom as he handed you the telegram.

“My pleasure. And if I may add, you do look beautiful. Purple is a lovely color on you.” Tom said without taking his eyes off you.

“You as well. It seems we’ve matched today.” You said and patted the old purple vest he had on over his tattered white shirt. Tom put his hand over yours, sending a spark throughout your body.

“It seems we have.” He said with a smile. You returned the smile and leaned into him until you heard your mother clearing her throat.

“All right. She received the telegram. Leave us at once.” She barked. Tom gave you a sympathetic look, patted the telegram, and then left the room.

“What a strange man. They ought to fire him.” Your mother mumbled to herself as she gathered your white dress again. You ignored her and opened the telegram to read what it said.

“I have to go. I’m needed down at the school.” You read off the note.

“Very well. Change quickly. And be back before supper.”

You changed into your regular dress as quickly as you could and got out of that room as fast as possible. Tom was waiting for you down the hall and smiled when he saw you coming.

“What’s going on at the school?” You asked him as you walked together outside the house.

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “I just thought you I could use a break.”

You gasped and playfully hit his arm for lying. He laughed and linked his arms through yours as you wandered into the woods to get away from any watching eyes. You found an old swing and sat down on it while Tom sat against a tree across from you so the two of you could talk.

“Will you be at the ball tonight, Mr. Tom?” You asked as you slowly swung back and forth.

“I will. Someone’s gotta pour the champagne.” He replied with a teasing smile.

“Right.” You smiled sheepishly and remembered you lived in different worlds.

“Don’t feel bad for me. You hear the best gossip when you’re pouring champagne. Everyone forgets we can hear and dishes all their darkest secrets right in front of us. It’s very entertaining.” Tom said as he got up from the tree and walked around you.

“Oh really? Have you heard anything about me?” You teased and twisted the swing around to follow him.

“I’ve heard plenty about you, my dear.” Tom said causally and walked around you in a circle.

“Like what?” You fell for it and kept twisting the swing to follow him.

“Like you’re one to turn down marriage proposals. In fact, I heard a rumor you’ve turned down 5 proposals already.”

“That’s no rumor.” You laughed. “Tis true.”

“Oh yeah?” Tom’s interest was piked. “I also heard a rumor that your likeliness to say no has created a certain air about you. It makes you a target. The men in town see you as a prize for their competition.”

“I say no to those men because I don’t like them. How am I expected to love someone I don’t even like?” You shrugged and twisted the swing as far as it could go. You let go and spun around until Tom caught you.

“So I don’t have to worry about anyone catching your eye tonight?” He said as he leaned in. You gasped a little as his movement and shook your head.

“No. Not at all.” You answered him. Tom looked down at your lips again and this time, he went all the way. He connected your lips to his in a kiss that sent shivers down your spine. Your hands found his shirt and you tugged him closer by it. You broke away only when you needed to catch your breath and looked into his eyes. For the first time in your life, you felt like someone was seeing you.

“Can I steal you away tonight?” He asked and you nodded immediately.

“Please do. Get me out of there as soon as you can.”

Once the gala had started and the room was filled with all the influential families in the village, you and your mother discussed your game plan. She pointed out all the men she wanted you to entertain that night while you scanned the crowd for Tom. Finally, someone can by and handed you a note.

“Telegram for you, miss.” They said before walking away. You excitedly opened it up and recognize Tom’s handwriting.

“Meet me where the spirit meets the bone.” It read.

“You’re getting a telegram during the dance? You must be popular.” Your mom said snottily.

“I am.” You smiled shyly and folded the note in your hand. You excused yourself and told your mother that you were getting a drink but instead made a break for it. You ran all the way to the nearby graveyard and found Tom waiting under a tree.

“Tom?” You smiled as you walked up to him. He broke into a grin and scooped you up to kiss you. When he set your down, he held out his hand for you to take.

“May I have this dance?” He asked you.

“But there’s no music out here.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He shook his head and pulled you closer by your hand. He slipped an arm around your waist and hummed in your ear as you swayed to the music. His humming turned to soft singing, shocking you with the lovely voice that came out of his mouth. When his song ended, you wrapped your arms around his neck and looked at him in awe.

“I’ve never met a man who could sing.”

“You mean those pretty boys you hang around with can’t carry a tune?” Tom smiled teasingly.

“No. They can hardly carry a conversation.”

“You mean you don’t like talking about how much money and power you have?” He asked sarcastically. You laughed at his joke, then got quiet.

“We don’t actually have any money. My mother and I, I mean.” You admitted to him.

“No?” Tom asked in surprise.

“When my father died, he left us a great name but a terrible debt. He loved my mother and I almost as much as he loved to gamble.”

“I had no idea. What was his poison?”

“Horses. For the money he risked, you think he’d be better at it.” You laughed sadly.

“So he left you guys with nothing?”

“Just the reputation of his name. But that won’t last us forever. That’s why my mother keeps dragging me to these dances. She’s desperate for me to marry rich as soon as possible.”

“And you don’t want that?” Tom asked as he pushed hair off your face to see you better.

“I wish to be in love. And to be loved in return. Do you think that’s stupid to dream of?”

“Not at all.” Tom shook his head. “Why would it be?”

“Well do you know anyone who’s actually in love? Because I don’t.” You laughed sadly.

“My parents were.” He told you, making you smile.

“Really? And they met at one of these dances?”

“No. My father was a carpenter. He sold his furnishings at the market in town. My mom set up a booth next to him to sell flowers. They were married within two months of their first encounter.” He recounted with a smile.

“I love that. Do you have more stories of them?”

“I do. Do you actually care to hear them?” He asked skeptically.

“I’ve never heard of true love like that between two people. I want to hear all their stories. I need to know the love I read about in my stores really exists.”

“Then I’ll tell you whatever you want to hear.” Tom smiled softly at you as he brushed his thumb against your cheek. You leaned in to his touch before taking his hand and leading him to the flower meadow nearby. You laid in the field and stared up at the stars while you listened to his stories. Hours passed like minutes and soon, the sky was lightening up as Tom talked.

“The sun is rising.” He said, but you hadn’t noticed because you were too busy staring at him.

“I can’t believe we talked all night. I haven’t had good conversation like that in a very long time.” You told him.

“When was the last time?” He asked and propped himself up on his elbow to stare at you.

“I was lying.” You admitted with a laugh. “It’s never happened before. Excerpt maybe when I talk to the mirror.”

“If I saw your reflection when I looked in the mirror, I’d talk to it too.” He replied, making you smile. You leaned in to kiss him again before sitting up.

“My mothers probably lost her mind by now wondering where I am.”

“What will you tell her?” Tom wondered and sat up as well.

“That I was perfectly safe and perfectly happy.” You sighed happily.

“Are you happy?” Tom genuinely wondered.

“When I’m with you, I am.” You told him. “I haven’t felt that in a while.”

“Neither have I.” He smiled and leaned in to kiss you again.

“It’s a good thing we found each other, then.” You said once you pulled away. You kissed him one last time before getting up.

“Can I see you again?” Tom asked and got up as well.

“I can sneak out tomorrow after breakfast. Can you meet me right here?”

“I’ll be there.” Tom grinned and kissed you one last time. You made the kiss last as long as possible before running home. You told your mother you had spent the night at a friends house before grabbing a nap. Despite having stayed up all night, you found it hard to fall asleep. Your life was finally better than your dreams now that this illicit affair was in full swing. You counted down the hours until breakfast the next day when you could see him again. As soon as you were finished with your meal, you excused yourself and made a dash for the graveyard. You saw him in the distance and picked up the ends of your dress to get to him faster. You ran into his arms and he picked you up to swing you around. When he set you down, he dipped you and kissed you as if you hadn’t seen each other in years. You laughed against his lips before kissing him again.

“Come on. I want to take you somewhere.” He took your hand and pulled you towards the meadow again. He took you all the way to the end of it where it turned into a cliff that overlooked a lake. You’d never been that far from your home before and you loved it. You went close to the edge of the cliff and looked out at the lake.

“This is beautiful. I want to draw it.”

“You should. You’d make a lovely portrait of it.”

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here.” You said as you turned to Tom.

“I come here to read a lot. Or when I need to clear my head.”

“Clear it of what?” You asked and went to wrap your arms around his neck while the wind blew your hair back.

“Everything. Everything but you. You’re the only thought that’s allowed to stay. Not that I could get you out of my mind if I wanted.” He told you as he held you flush against him. You looked into his soft brown eyes for a minute and shook your head.

“What do you want from me?” You asked quietly.

“Nothing. I don’t want anything from you. Just sweet nothing.”

“I don’t have any money. If we married, we’d be poor.” You reminded him.

“I don’t love you for your money.” He shook his head.

“You love me?” You smiled in surprise.

“I think I do. Is it too soon to say that? I know this is delicate.” He said as he nervously stared into your eyes.

“I don’t think it’s too soon. I think I love you too.”

“What should we do about that?” Tom smiled and leaned in to kiss your neck. His kisses got lower and you gasped and clutched his shirt.

“If anyone catches us…” You trailed off.

“They won’t. I can be real quiet when I want to be.” He said against your skin.

“Why do I have the sneaking suspicion that you’re trouble?” You laughed and picked his head up to look at him.

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” He smiled teasingly and nipped at your lips again.

After your illicit affair with Tom, you laid near the edge of the cliff with your head in his lap. You were sketching the view in front of you while he played in your hair.

“What are your plans tonight?” He asked you.

“My mother invited Mr. Darcy and Mr. Wickem over for dinner. She’s hoping at least one proposes.” You said with disgust in your tone.

“What if one does?” He asked, sounding fearful. You laughed and sat up to look at him.

“I will kindly give him the same answer all the other men who tried to marry me received. A hasty and ever so slightly snotty no.”

“Good.” Tom smiled. “I don’t want to see my girl marrying another man.”

“You won’t.” You promised him and leaned in to kiss him.

That night, you excused yourself after an hour of mind numbing conversation about politics and weather and hid away in your room. Your walls were now adorned with several drawings of Tom, some portraits and others of him doing things like pouring champagne or laying some brick. You added the drawing of the cliff side to your collection before returning to your two guests. You successfully made it through the dinner with no proposals, much to your mothers dismay. Your win did not feel satisfactory for long before your mother informed you that you’d be attending a gala the next night to make up for the lack of proposals from this night. The only reason you didn’t put up a fight over going was because you knew Tom would likely be there working.

Sure enough, you spotted Tom among the other workers during your rotation around the gala. But every time you tried to excuse yourself to go talk to him, your mother pulled you back and introduced you to another man. Tom was growing jealous watching you chat with all these wealthy, affluent men but knew there was not much he could do to stop it. That is, until he came up with a plan.

As you passed by a curtain, you felt someone grab your arm and pull you into another room. When you regained your balance, you saw Tom putting his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet.

“Tom? What are you doing?” You whispered.

“Breaking you out of here. Here. Put these on.” He whispered back and handed you some of his trousers and a shirt. You sighed at the sight of comfortable clothing and immediately started unbuttoning your dress. “Help me out of this thing.” You whispered and turned around.

Tom helped you undo your corset and shoved your dress in a corner while you changed into his clothes.

“Ah. I can breathe again.” You sighed happily and buttoned up your shirt. Tom fastened your suspenders for you and threw a cap on your head for you to tuck your hair into.

“How do I look?” You asked and posed for him. He looked at you and laughed before kissing you.

“Very handsome. Now come on. Let’s get out of here.” He grinned and took your gang before running out of the house.

“Where are you taking me?” You asked as you raced through the streets of town. He stopped to pick you up and spin you around before running again.

“You’ll see. This way.” He said and pulled your hand towards the one building with its lights still on. He brought you inside and you realized it was a bar. The place was rowdy, a stark contrast to the quiet mumbles at the parties you were used to.

“Evening, gentlemen. Two pints?” The bartender asked, making you laugh and tilt your cap to him.

“Yes, please.” Tom said and accepted the two pints of beer that were slid towards him.

“What is this?” You asked him as he clinked his glass against yours.

“Beer? You haven’t had it?” He asked in surprise.

“Never. I’ve only tasted champagne or wine.”

“We don’t drink that around here. Only beer.” He said and slung an arm around you. You took a big sip and nodded in agreement.

“It’s delicious.” You told him and took another big sip.

“How are you feeling?” He laughed and fixed the cap on your head.

“Like I’m full of bubbles.”

“That sounds lovely.” He laughed. “Care to dance?”

“You dance at a place like this?” You asked as he pulled you towards the

“Not the kind of dancing you’re thinking of.” He laughed and raised his arms into the air to clap his hands. Everyone around you started to dance in a style you didn’t recognize. It wasn’t stiff and precise like the dances you were taught. It was loose and explosive, and looked like a lot of fun. You watched Tom dance but made no effort to join him.

“Dance with me!” He shouted over the music and spun you around.

“But I don’t know the steps!” You shouted back.

“There are no steps. Just move to the music.” He said and spun you again. You hesitatingly started to dance and soon, you’d forgotten all about your life back home. You felt freer than ever before and never wanted the night to end. But as the hours passed, the bar started to empty out. Tom brought you outside to get some fresh air and wrapped an arm around you to keep you close. You entangled your fingers in his and as you walked down the streets of town, you felt like a real couple.

“That was so much fun.” You gushed. “The dances I go to are never like that.”

“That’s because no one in there is trying to make a marital agreement. They just want to be in each other’s company.”

“I love your company. I love you.” You drunkenly laughed and held his hands as you faced him.

“I love you too. Most ardently.” He smiled and rubbed his thumb across your cheek. He leaned in to kiss you and you happily kissed him back.

“I’m so glad we met. I’ve had more fun in a single night with you than I have my whole life with any of the boring old men back in my village. I didn’t know life would be this good. I thought I was fated to end up a miserable house wife so a man I didn’t love. And drink boring tea with his boring family every day while we suffer through boring conversation. But I’m never bored when I’m with you. Every moment is thrilling.”

“Then marry me instead.” Tom said with a look in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

“I would.” You answered honestly.

“I’m serious. Marry me.”

“You’re drunk.” You laughed at him and pulled him down the street by his hand.

“But still. You’ve bewitched me, body and soul. We should get married.”

“We can’t get married. We just met.” You laughed again in dismissal, thinking he was just joking around. He ran in front of you to stop you walking and rested his hands on your hips.

“Thats true. But I just know. I know that I love, I love, I love you.” He promised you.

“I love you too.” You smiled softly.

“So run away with me and be my bride.” He pleaded and took both your hands.

“We’d have no money.”

“I can make furniture and sell it in town and you can sell your drawings. We’ll be scrapping by but we’ll be doing it together.” Tom was quick to reply. You were easily convinced and started nodding until you remembered who was waiting for you back at home.

“But my mother.” You sighed. “She’ll be penniless. I’m her only hope.”

“You deserve to be happy without worrying about filling her pockets.” Tom reminded you.

“I want to be happy.” You confessed. “I want to be with you.”

“So let’s do it. Let’s get married.” He pleaded and squeezed your hands. You thought about it for less than a minute before nodding.

“Okay. Let’s do it.” You agreed. “We’ll tell my mother tomorrow. If she’s angry, she’ll just have to deal with it.”

Tom looked at you for a minute before breaking into a huge smile. He scooped you up and lifted you in the air in the middle of the street.

“She said yes!” Tom screamed into the night. The other bar goers that had spilled out onto the street cheered for you and raised a glass in your honor.

“I can’t wait. I can’t wait to be married.” You told him once he set you down.

“Then why wait?”

“What do you mean?”

“Here. Follow me.” Tom grinned and led you to a nearby building.

The next morning, you returned home with Tom’s hand in yours. Your heart was pounding at the thought of telling her, knowing her reaction would be less than pleased. But at the same time, you felt thrilled to be doing something you knew she’d hate.

“Mother? Are you home?” You asked as you pulled Tom through the front door. You peered into the closest rooms until you found your mother in the kitchen.

“Mother, Tom and I-“

“There you are. What makes you think you can stay out all night young lady? I’ve been worried sick. Come to the drawing room at once. We have to talk.” She snapped and disappeared into the drawing room.

You gulped and looked at Tom, knowing this wasn’t going to be pretty. He gave you an assuring smile and squeezed your hand to let you know he was right beside you. You nodded and walked with him into the drawing room. When you went inside, you noticed the fire was burning higher than usual and smelt strange.

“Mother, Tom and I have something we would like to tell you.” You said confidently.

“Why have you brought the help inside? And why are you holding his hand? You don’t know where he’s been. Let go at once.” Your mother sneered in disgust. You gave Tom an apologetic look before turning back to her.

“I do know where he’s been. He’s been with me.” You said simply.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She snapped at you. You flinched a little at the tone but got distracted by the worsening smell coming from the fire before you could respond.

“What’s in the fire?” You asked her, having a feeling you already knew.

“Firewood.” She replied almost immediately.

“That doesn’t smell like firewood.” Tom agreed, making your mother shoot him an an angry look. She avoided eye contact with you so you took a step closer to her.

“Mother, what’s in the fire?”

She finally looked at you and clicked her tongue as if the task of explains herself was a major inconvenience to her.

“If you must know, we ran low on firewood so I used some of your silly drawings to feed the fire. It was all we had.” She said without looking at you. You looked at the fire and at the base where the firewood was, you could see a portrait of Tom curling and becoming ash. You were angry, but knew there was still more to uncover.

“That doesn’t smell like burning paper.” You remarked and looked at her again. She finally looked at you and gave a simple shrug.

“That hideous purple dress of yours went in there as well.”

That’s what did it for you. The pictures could be drawn again but the dress from your father was something that could never be replaced. She knew that, but chose to destroy it anyway.

“You burned my dress? Why?” You asked as a tear ran down your face.

“The dress was completely inappropriate. And a young lady should not be drawing perverse portraits of a man she isn’t even married to.”

“But I am.”

“You are what?” She asked as her gaze hardened.

“I am married to him. This is my husband.” You said simply and put your hand on Tom’s shoulder. He stood up straighter and stared daggers at your mother.

“I beg your pardon?” She snapped and stood up.

“We went to the courthouse this morning. Signed the papers and everything.” Tom told her. It was the truth. Once you discovered the court house was closed last night, you slept under the stars and got legally married first thing in the morning. Your mother was so blinded with rage she could barely speak.

“But…but he’s poor. He won’t bring in any money. You selfish, selfish girl. Our name will be ruined when word of this gets out. My only daughter marrying a field hand will destroy the reputation I’ve worked so hard to keep. Do you have any idea what you’d just done to this family?” She finally found her voice and screamed in rage.

“You are not my family. He is. And we’re leaving.” You said simply. You turned to leave when your mother jumped out of her chair and grabbed your arm.

“Wait, don’t leave. Please. You’re all I have.” She begged. For a moment, you wanted to cave and tell her you were sorry. But the loud crackling of the fire reminded you that you never felt held by her. This home wasn’t your home, and it was time to go.

“You cannot let go of your pride and your prejudice. So you’re gonna have to let go of me.” You said as you pulled your arm away from her. Tom wrapped his arm around you and led you away, neither of you ever looking back.

A few days later, you and Tom held a wedding ceremony on the cliff side he had showed you. You put up flyers in town square and said anyone who wanted to come could show up. Surprisingly, you had a lot of guests. The audience was full of people who just wanted to see you get yoru happy ended. You wore a purple dress, engaged in exciting conversations, drank beer, and danced until the sun came up.

A few months layer, you and Tom were living in a small cottage he had built on the cliff side. You sat in your favorite chair by the fire while he worked on a new table to he sold in town.

“What are you working on?” He asked you when he noticed how focused you were on your sketchbook.

“I just realized we had no pictures of us. So I made one.” You smiled shyly and turned your sketchbook around to show him. You had drawn the two of you on your wedding day, standing under the arch Tom had built that you weaved flowers into. Tom’s eyes lit up when he saw the drawing and went over to you.

“Darling, this is beautiful. Definitely your best. It’s getting hung up right over the mantle.” Tom said and displayed your drawing over the fireplace. You smiled as you watched Tom proudly hang up your art, something that had never been done in your mothers house. As he looked back at you to make sure you liked where he put it, you realized for the first time in your life, you felt at home. It was like your pain fit right in the palm of Tom’s hand and as time passed and ivy grew over your cottage, you finally felt like you were covered too.

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arvinsescape · 2 years ago

Text

In My Veins (Leon Kennedy X Fem!Reader)

Summary ~ Leon comes home in the middle of the night.

Disclaimer ~ I do not own Resident Evil or any of its characters.

Word Count ~ 1.7k

Warnings ~ Mentions of nightmares, mentions of death, mentions of injuries, stitches, a little bit of angst

Leon Kennedy Masterlist (Coming soon)

•I do NOT consent to have my work posted, translated or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere but here, it has been reposted without my permission•

A/N ~ Are we shocked I’m writing for Leon? Probably not, enjoy.

******

A cool breeze blew in through the open window of your bedroom, the overlapping sounds of car horns and police sirens blending together into a soothing background noise that only further aided in your peaceful sleep. When you had first moved into your small shared home in DC, the volume of the city had taken some getting used to, and the first few weeks of living in the city had consisted of several sleepless nights due to the noise.

Leon had assured you that you would eventually get used to the noise, after all, he had.

And he was right.

Another thing you had gotten used to was Leon being gone for weeks—sometimes months—at a time. You had gotten used to the quiet of the house around you being filled by only your own thoughts and the noises from the busy streets beyond your front door.

Due to the nature of Leon’s work with the government, it wasn’t unusual for him to wake you up in the middle of the night saying that he had to go and he had no idea when he would be back. A peck on the lips and a promise to come back home safe was his goodbye to you whenever he had to leave, the familiar sad look in his bright blue eyes telling you everything he didn’t say as he walked out the door.

It had been five days since he left, four days without a word from him letting you know where he was, how he was doing, or if he was even alive.

The sound of a car door slamming outside the open window woke you up, the dull thud making you furrow your brows as a small knot of hope curled in your stomach. Quickly sitting up and pushing the blanket off, you slid off of the bed and walked over to the window. The sheer curtains allowed the glow of the street lamp outside to flow into your room as you pushed the thin fabric aside and looked out the window.

A familiar black Jeep was parked along the street in front of your house, the blond hair of its driver catching in the gold lamp light as Leon pulled his duffle bag out of the back seat and pushed the door shut with his hip.

Leon was finally home.

A tired smile made its way to your lips as you backed away from the window and walked toward the door of the bedroom. Before you walked out of the room, you grabbed the grey sweatshirt that was hanging on the doorknob—one of Leon’s old sweatshirts from the police academy that you had adopted as your own—and slipped it over your head.

The floorboards creaked under your bare feet as you walked out of the bedroom and into the dark hallway, the only light to illuminate your way coming from the nightlight plugged into the wall. Keys jingled from the floor below you followed by the squeaking of your front door and a quiet curse from Leon—you knew he was trying his best to be quiet since he thought you were asleep. You hurried down the small flight of stairs and rounded the corner at the bottom where the front door and entryway came into view, Leon was standing in front of the door with his back pressed to the textured window and his head leaning back with his eyes closed.

“Leon?” You spoke quietly, your voice still crackly from the lingering tiredness in your head.

His eyes opened and he stared ahead at you as he twisted the lock on the doorknob, “Did I wake you up?” He tightened his fist around the handle of his bag and walked toward you, his eyes moving over your tired form.

Shaking your head you took in his appearance in the dim hall, your eyes instantly going to the fresh stitches on his forehead, “What happened?” You stepped forward to meet him in the middle of the hall, your hand moving up to gently touch the side of his face.

Leon froze for a moment, his body going ridged as your hand connected with his face, “It’s just a scratch.” He relaxed and leaned into your touch as he lifted his hand to place it over top of yours.

Unconvinced, you frowned and stared up at the bandage wrapped around the palm resting over your hand.

He looked exhausted, physically and mentally.

You said nothing as you shifted your hand and pulled it off of his cheek, grabbing his injured hand as you moved and pulling it down in front of you where you could get a good look at the bandage. The careful and almost meticulous wrapping and securing of the gauze around his hand lets you know that it was done by a professional and not Leon himself who had the tendency to be rather haphazard with his own medical care.

“I was worried about you.” You said quietly, your eyes still down on his hand as you traced the edge of the bandage across his palm, “How bad was this one?” You finally looked back up to meet his eyes.

The dark circles under his eyes seemed to be even more pronounced than the night he left, a yellowing bruise was painted across his jawline telling you a silent story of whatever fight he had gotten into on his mission.

“Pretty bad.” His voice trailed off like he was remembering the last few days.

You hesitated before speaking again, for a moment you debated even asking but in the end, you spoke up, “Do I need to be worried?”

The life altering events of Raccoon City ran through your mind. The faces of the people you grew up with as they screamed and ran at you to desperately try to end your life making you clench your hands into tight fists at your sides.

Leon shook his head slowly before dropping his bag to the floor and moving forward to wrap his arms around you, his chest heaving slightly as he breathed in a slow breath and savored the feeling of being back home with you. He buried his face in your neck as you slid your arms under his and spread your palms flat across his back, your fingers moving in a slow gentle circle to try and soothe him.

Once again your brows came together as you held onto him, “You wanna come up to bed?”

He nodded, his hair tickling the side of your face as he stood up straight and let out a long breath.

You had known Leon long enough to know that when he came home from a particularly rough mission—which this one definitely seemed to qualify as—the odds of him sleeping were incredibly slim, he would never admit it but you knew it was because of the nightmares he would get. But you had also known Leon long enough to know that there was no better way to help him calm down than to simply lay in bed with him.

So, that’s what you did.

It took Leon all of two minutes to get changed out of his jeans and t-shirt and into a pair of sweatpants and walk over to sit on the edge of the bed. You stared at his bare back from where you lay on your pillows, your eyes following the map of scars and fresh cuts and busies that was spread across his skin.

“What happened Leon?” You asked quietly while sitting up and moving across the unmade bed to sit behind Leon and wrap your arms around him, “I’m here to listen if you wanna talk about it.” You pressed a few gentle kisses to the bruises along his shoulder blades.

“The president’s daughter was kidnapped, they sent me to go rescue her.” His back rumbled as he spoke, his voice was quiet as though he was afraid someone was listening in on your conversation, “We both got infected with this parasite that takes you over, it takes control of you… I didn’t think I was coming home from this one.”

You froze and thought about what he had just shared with you, “Are you still infected?’ You knew it was a stupid question, Leon never would have come back if there was a chance that it would put you in danger.

He shook his head and stood, “No, we got them out, docs ran enough different tests on me when we got back to make sure I was clear.” He turned around to face you and walked over to climb up and sit against the headboard, “I just can’t get away from this stuff,” he laughed nervously.

You crawled back up to sit beside him and moved to lay your head on his chest as he wrapped one arm around your shoulder to pull you closer. Leon’s hand grabbed onto your shoulder as you got comfortable and pulled the blankets up over both of you, his thumb running up and down along the soft fabric of the sweatshirt you wore.

“What happened to your hand?” You asked while grabbing his bandaged hand again.

“Knife cut through my glove.” He shrugged slightly while continuing to rub his hand across your shoulder, “I tried to be home earlier, I got back this morning but I was stuck on base all day while they ran tests.” He explained.

You hummed softly and ran your hand up and down along his stomach, “The president’s daughter, is she okay?”

“Shaken up, probably won’t sleep for a while with all the stuff she saw, but she’ll be okay.” He flexed his bandaged hand, “She's tough.”

“What about you?” You played with the edge of the blanket with your free hand, “Are you okay?”

He paused, his movements on your arm halting for a moment, “I’ll be fine.”

“I'm glad you're home, Leon.” You tilted your head to the side and kissed his chest.

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