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jhoneybees · 10 months ago

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Little Nurse in Charge

Finally I'm posting another fic! I've been really missing the experience of writing so I'm getting my fogged up brain to work again lol there might be a few errors and misspelt words😅

Characters: Late60s/70sCG! Elvis X little!reader

Warnings/triggers: Age regression, little lifestyle, sickness

This is honestly my favourite moodboard🥹👇

Elvis had a long, stressful week. His schedule was hectic, being rushed from one place to another and doing a lot of recording and such was really taking a toll on him. You being his beloved partner, you worry about him. Everytime you would suggest for him to get some rest, he’d just brush it off and say he can handle it in which seeing him fall asleep in a millisecond the moment he flops onto the bed after a jam-packed day at the recording studio tells you otherwise.

Once Elvis finally gets some time off, the next morning he wakes up sore all over also having a scratchy throat, clicking his tongue in annoyance when he realises. Detangling himself out of the bedsheets , he pushes on the mattress with his knuckles and makes his way to the bathroom to find something for this “stupid cold” he mutters to himself, he stops in his tracks when he hears you stir in your sleep. Turning his head, Elvis watches your eyes flutter open, blinking blankly at him a few times before your eyebrows start to furrow and a pout forms. He sighs softly, you woke up little. Elvis pinches the bridge of his nose whilst resting a hand on his hip. How is he gonna take care of his sick self while also looking after little you? He already feels like a sack of potatoes that's been knocked about on the back of a farm truck so having to make sure your needs are met is gonna be a tough challenge, he never says no to being a caregiver for you though, he always takes up the challenge.

Elvis walks back over to the bed when you do grabby hands and he weakly chuckles “Mornin’ baby” leaning down to kiss your forehead, you respond wiggling closer to him and wrapping tired limp arms around his lower abdomen. Elvis smiles and strokes a strand of hair away from your face “Did ya get a good sleep?” answering with a small nod “Good sleep, daddy” you say while burying your face in the side of his thigh making him chuckle but he suddenly clears his throat which you didn't take notice of. “Did Daddy have a good sleep?” you ask quietly, Elvis cocks his head to the side and stares at the wall, letting out a hum as he thinks “Not really, Daddy's not feelin' too good this Mornin'” looking back, he sees a worried frown from you “Why?” questioning as you decide to sit up and Elvis smoothing your hair down. “Hm just sore and achy, baby” your concern grows, no matter if you're little or not, you always made sure Elvis is alright which sounds like he isn't, your eyes leave his to stare down at the duvet on the bed, the little crease between your eyebrows prominent as you process the situation.

Suddenly your eyes light up with an idea and you quickly scurry out of bed, pushing Elvis’ chest with your little hands “Lay down Daddy, lay down” you order and Elvis frowns in confusion “um sure.. but- why baby?” Doing what he's told, swinging his legs onto the bed and resting his head on the head board. You try to give him an authorised look but just ended up looking like an angry baby to Elvis, he chuckles slightly before he nods and raises his eyebrows at you “Daddy's sick, I- I'm look after him” explaining your plans to your daddy making him smile nervously “U-um that's real sweet of ya honey but i-i- don't think that's a good idea..” usually when you're little, Elvis would do everything for you since you just make a mess or have accidents that end up you crying or getting injured but you just shake your head “uh uh no daddy, nigh nighs’ “ telling him to just go to sleep and let you do your thing which he hesitantly accepts and gets comfortable under the covers. Elvis watching you run out of the bedroom and hearing your sooties scattering down the stairs, he laughs to himself at your funny behaviour.

After some time you arrive back through the bedroom doors with the first aid box that Elvis keeps in one of the kitchen cabinets for whenever you hurt yourself or get sick, a bit confused how you retrieved it since it's kept in a place out of your reach “H-how did you get that?” Elvis sits up and points a finger, you look at him with a pout and set the box on the bedside table “No Daddy nigh nighs!” completely ignoring his question and you push on his chest to make him lay down, Elvis sighs “Okay okay, I'm going nighs nighs, I'm goin'' closing his eyes and sighs.

As he tries to relax, Elvis begins to hear clinking of medicine bottles and ruffling of plastic packaging so out of curiosity he opens his eyes and cranes his neck “What are you doing honey?” Huffing out a breath you whine “daddy!” Elvis raising his hands in defeat “Okay alright alright, sorry” he rests his head down on the pillow again. A few moments later, a pair of hands caresses his hair away from his forehead and your voice quietly babbling “Daddy go nighs nighs..sleepy sleepy… puppy wittle puppy” Elvis's lips curve at the corners, stifling a laugh by adjusting himself in bed so he wouldn't ruin the moment for you. Your sweet nature of always looking out for people is one of things that made Elvis think he had to have you because how can he not? Of course because he's Elvis Presley but also because why not have someone like you? Someone so sweet and kind, babying him with all your love, all your devotion. What's not to love?

He sighs again as you continue to sing a lullaby that is obviously made up “Sleepy puppy…sleepy, sleepy, sleepy” The more you sing your little song, Elvis falls into a floaty sleep, soon drifting off. Bringing the covers up to his chin, you hum softly as your attention turns to the first aid box, your little hands hovering over the tops of the medicine bottles and paper boxes filled with bandages and other things that your little brain doesn't have a clue what they're used for. Picking up a thermometer, you cautiously move the blanket from Elvis' arm and slide it under his armpit. Taking a quiet step back, your eyes watch Elvis’ sleeping face with adoration and love. You’re just so lucky to have him as your caregiver, your daddy.

After a somewhat comfortable nap, Elvis wakes up. Looking around the room to find you’re not there, sitting up to rest his back against the headboard and lets out a breathy chuckle when he notices a thermometer under his armpit and shaking his head seeing your favourite stuffie being a white bunny laying next to him, thinking you must’ve put it there for him to feel less lonely.

He turns his head at the sound of the bedroom door creaking open to see you holding a tray with a bowl and spoon, pursing your lips with concentration to not spill anything. “What’s that baby?” Elvis chuckles quietly. A relieved breath emits, you place the tray on his lap “I ask Mary to make you soup!” you state proudly. With a calm nod and a loving smile, Elvis’ heart clenches “Aww… Thank you hon, that’s real sweet of ya” giggling like a schoolgirl, you climb onto the bed next to him and pick up the spoon “Hey, I- I can feed myself darlin” Elvis laughs nervously, watching as you hold the spoon near his mouth. You shake your head and whine “No! Open!” with yet another defeated sigh Elvis opens his mouth letting you spoon feed him. Even though Elvis feels nervous and on edge about you taking care of him, he does find it nice to just let you do what you want since you’re a calm little but of course still need to be disciplined now and again.

As you feed Elvis the last spoonful, you gently pat a napkin to the corners of his mouth, earning a chuckle “Always taking good care of Daddy hm?” poking at your sides playfully, you laugh and gently push his hands away. After Elvis moves the tray onto his bedside table, you decide to snuggle up with him under the blankets. Grinning softly as he sees you nuzzling your head against his chest and holding your favourite toy bunny tightly to yours. “Thank you for looking after me, little” he smiles.

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis fans #60s elvis #70s elvis #elvis imagine #i love him #elvis presley x reader #little!reader #cg!elvis #please brain.. work for me..please

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onyondump · 1 year ago

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Just a Touch : Rough Night Soldier?

Arthur x M!Reader/OC!Karsa Hendriks

Summery : Arthur is in a daze after disposing a 'rat' in Tommy's request and ended up in front of his friends apartment.

Masterlist | Moodboard | First | Third

this is my first time uploading my fanfic and my grammer isn't great so please don't eat me alive thank you

'Rough night soldier?'

The comforting smell of burnt wood, tobacco and jasmine waken Arthur's tired eyes. Unbeknownst to him, his body took itself to the front steps of a familiar friend's apartment and now he's sitting on his sofa with a hand covered in blood, not his ofcourse.

"Aye" he couldn't bring himself to look anywhere but his shaking bloody hands. Another job to take care off, another body to dispose and another maddening night.

A warm towel envelopes his hands, scrubbing it off the remains of his victim. A victim to his viciousness with a beating pulse and a life, but of course anyone who dares cross the Shelby's will face the consequences. Even if their only sin is to breath at their direction.

'Heads up, let me clean your face!'

He does as he's told, like always, from his father, his comander and now his brother.

It's for the good of the family, sacrifices have to be made, they will all reap the reward in the end. But every time he follows orders, why is he in a deeper pit then the rest? It's so dark

'Hello *snap* *snap* Art!! Don't daydream too much or a spirit will possessyour body'

A small chuckle escape his thin dry lips. His friend sometimes have the same superstition as his aunt. How interesting that two people from each end of the earth would have the same believes.

"Don't worry mate, I'm already the devil yeah? No spirits will possess me" He laughs as the other scoffs

'Should have known the only way for you to wake up is to make fun of me' as a revenge the man infront of him scrub his face harder and a white shirt is thrown onto his lap as his companion plops onto the space besides him. Watching him.

'Thats the last good shirt I have this week before laundry day. You better not come here dirty again!'

This is their new routine now. Arthur would come to his friend's house either drunk, high, in a trance or all three at once and his companion would take care of him until the song bird calls for his return.

He would feel guilty about using his kindness like this but it doesn't seem like the other man mind. So he assumes he's welcome anyways.

When Arthur finish putting on the shirt, a loud cough followed by a puff of heavy dark smoke emits from his companions mouth.

'SHIT!!'

Another laugh comes from Arthur this time with a booming sound,

"HAHAHA Your really bad with cigars eh?"

'SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU PRICK, this shit is strong'

Arthur's snatch the fat cigar from his friends fingers and takes a long hard suck as the heavy smoke travels his lungs, coating it with tar. He puffs out slowly but surely, the kiss of death.

"This shit! Is for real men. Not like yours small ones"

'Whatever Art' he snatches back the cigar he lit and tries to do the same but failing at the last second and was mocked again with the chuckle of the moustached men as they countine to share the cigar between eachother.

Nights like these would make him forget what he was doing just 5 hours ago. It's certainly no Tokyo but it does the trick and usually leave no side effects. Just two best friends together in a smoke filled room, alone.

"Do you think I'll ever be normal?"

'There aints such thing as normal Art. Just work with what you have and try to move forward'

"But what if I'm tired? What if I don't want to move forward? I can't shut the door like Tommy tells me to!"

'Then you fix the hinge, oil it up and air out the smoke once in awhile. It's not like a door is just for closing'

With that comment, finally every thread in Arthur's body snapped. Another booming laugh emerge, what a stupid thing to say. Tears and sobs accompany his laughter he couldn't stop himself its almost hysterical. The dam is broken and everything is on fire.

'Uh..Art.. the Cigar?"

The last light of the cigar finally went out, burning Arthur's finger in the process but the man was too caught up in tears to react as his companion hold his burnt fingers and rubs it with his own. Arthur laughed and cried for a long time that night and through it, his friend didn't say a word while calming the wound. And for that, Arthur never felt more thankful.

Notes : YEEHAW!! I hoped you all understand my incoherent writing. I wrote this as I was waiting for my lecturer to come for assistances. I have not sleep and I crave Arthur. YEEHEE!!! 🍉🍉🍉

Also I have no idea the differences of the different smokes, just pulling it out of my ass.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder #peaky blinder fanfic #arthur shelby #arthur shelby x male reader #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby x oc

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lunar-jimin · 5 years ago

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i am my mother’s child, i’ll love you til my breathing stops i’ll love you til you call the cops on me

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: smut, tiny little glimpse of fluff, a lot of angst, stalker!reader, ex!namjoon

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: penetrative sex, softdom!namjoon (kinda), sub!reader (also kinda), quickie in a bathroom, lots of feelings, generally sad ones, this is fairly depressing, reader is stalker, so there’s that, also she has drunk sex with a stranger, but she propositions him so

Summary: It was your obsession with your job that drove him away. It’s your obsession with him that drives you.

↳ moodboard ↳ playlist ↳ series m.list ↳ m.list

The world outside your window was dyed in the murky blue of four in the morning. You didn’t notice. Your eyes were glued to the glaring screen in front of you, begging for your undivided attention. Instead of working like you should be, you’re creeping through your ex’s Instagram page, desperate to know every minute detail of his life after you. The couple staring back at you from the screen made your stomach twist itself into knots. You had known he would move on, find someone to love him better than you could, but you never thought this would happen in a million years.

Engaged? Really? They had only been dating for a year, only a year and a half since he had left you, but sure enough, the giant diamond on her ring finger spoke for itself. Jealousy tore through you. You knew you didn’t deserve his affection, but that hadn't stopped you from holding on to the small glimmer of hope that one day you would find a way to be together again.

Despite it all, you had long ago admitted to yourself that she was a much better match for him. Your mutual friends would often regale you with their complaints of how clingy they were, how much they loved each other. The pictures of them that filled your feed testified to this. She made sure the world knew how much she loved him. A twinge of regret sparked in you when you thought of your own Instagram page, bare of any images of the two of you. You were never one for shoving your relationship into other people’s faces.

Your eyes flicked from the post to the clock in the corner of your screen and you groaned inside at the prospect of getting only two hours of sleep. Turning back to your computer, you noticed the tired burn in your eyes and the lethargy that spread throughout your limbs. With the last bit of energy you could muster, you drug yourself out of your way-too-comfy computer chair and into your welcoming bed. You fell asleep before you made it under the covers, still in your jeans.

The next thing you knew, your alarm was blaring out some loud pop song you had picked a long time ago and never bothered to change, uncouthly interrupting your precious slumber. Sitting you, you already began to feel the consequences of too little sleep: today was going to be a long one. You silently swore to yourself that you were going to fix your sleep schedule, before managing to drag yourself out of bed and down the hall to the bathroom. The warm water from your shower did little to wake you up, but it did sooth your tense muscles. A half an hour later, you were at the bus stop, apple in hand, trying valiantly to keep your eyes open.

Your morning passed quietly. Somehow words appeared on your screen, despite the fact that you didn’t recall typing them. You had never been more grateful for your lunch break in all your life. You wearily made the slow trek to the cafe three blocks down from your office. All you could think of was the toasty panini and cup of coffee calling your name. The apple you had gulped down for breakfast wasn’t doing much for you anymore.

The cafe cheerily greeted you with the smell of espresso and a warmth that comforted your bones. You had been coming here since you began your career as a journalist for the newspaper. You swore they made the best sandwiches in this hemisphere, and the shy barista, Jungkook, never failed to make you smile with one of his cheeky stories from college.

You quickly ordered before taking your usual spot by the window. You had only been sitting for three minutes when your day went from bad to terrible. You blinked twice when you saw him. You were sure it was an illusion, your lack of sleep finally taking its toll on your mental health. You close your eyes and count to ten, praying that he would be gone when you opened them again.

There was now way it was coincidence that he was here. There was no way that he could possibly have come to the same cafe you had been a patron at for five years by accident. There was no way.

You froze in place. You internally debated if you should get his attention. A large part of you wanted to leave before he saw you, have Jungkook sneak you out the back, but a small part of you wanted to run to him, take him in your arms, and promise to love him right. Instead, you sat there like a deer in headlights, letting fate take its course.

You hated that he looked better than the last days of your relationship. He had found his style again and he had cut his hair. He looked healthier, and you knew from your midnight ventures on his Instagram account that he had started to workout. You didn’t want to admit it, but you knew deep down that the toxicity of your relationship had been detrimental to his well-being.

The guilt was eating you up, when he turned to look at you. If you were frozen before, you were solid ice now: muscles locked up, eyes open wide. You gulped slowly, praying to whatever god was out there to make you invisible. Unfortunately, the gods weren’t having it today, and he gave you a quick wave and a smile before turning back to the menu.

You prayed that would be the entirety of your interaction, but five minutes you looked up from the phone you were taking refuge in, to find him walking towards your table.

"Do you mind if I sit down?"

His voice was deeper than you recalled

"Uh, yeah, sure."

You looked out the window in a desperate attempt to avoid conversation and eye-contact.

"How are you?"

You managed to look up at him.

"I'm fine."

You hoped that he wouldn’t see through the lie. You hoped he wouldn’t see the dark circles under your eyes and realize you still weren’t getting enough. You hoped he wouldn’t see the stain on your shirt and realize that you still couldn’t find the time to do basic chores. You hoped that somehow, he wouldn’t realize that you were just as addicted to work as when he left you. That you were still failing at being a person.

"That's good."

You gave a small smile.

"How 'bout you?"

"Pretty good."

He grinned. You guessed he was thinking about his engagement but was hesitant to bring it up in your presence.

"Good."

You took a sip of your coffee and looked out the window again, uncomfortable down to the soles of your feet.

"I, uh, have some big news that, uh, I wanted to share with you."

Maybe not so hesitant, and not here by accident. You raised an eyebrow.

"I'm, uh, engaged."

The sheepishness that poured over his face was almost adorable.

"Oh."

You were silent for a moment.

"Congrats then."

Behind his eyes, there was a glimmer of disappointment, as if some suppressed sadistic part of him wanted you to be hurt. You were glad that you came off as unbothered, even though your heart ached every time you thought of that stupid engagement post.

"I love her."

He was desperate. You were surprised. Namjoon was never petty, yet here he was trying to make you jealous. Had you really hurt him so badly?

"I would hope so."

You looked back out the window.

"She's really amazing. She cooks for me and goes on trips and she’s even going to quit her job to take care of our kids."

It would have hurt, if the chauvinistic ideals behind it hadn’t made you roll your eyes. But the point was still there: she was actively loving him, taking care of him, showing him that she wanted a future with him. That stung.

"Okay."

He looked at the window, resigning to the fact that he wasn't going to get a rise out of you. He should've known. You had never been very expressive of your emotions.

"I would have married you."

That made you flinch. A spark of delight ignited in his eye. Asshole.

"Okay."

"I loved you."

"I know."

"Did you love me?"

"I don't know."

A lie. You had loved him to the moon and back. Hell, you still loved him. But you wanted to hurt him just a little bit for making you sit through this torture.

"Oh."

A blow to his ego. If he wanted to parry, he best have come prepared.

"Have a good day then."

"Okay."

With that he left, without even bothering to pick up his order.

Before you knew what you were doing, you followed him out the door. You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you knew you were no longer in control of your being. You followed him one block after another, making sure you were far enough behind him that he wouldn’t notice you. You weren’t sure what you were seeking. Closure perhaps.

Soon, you found yourself standing outside a familiar, red, brick building. During your relationship, Namjoon had moved in with you, but still rented his apartment. In the beginning, you had stayed the night a few times. The apartment was small, but the view was to die for. You missed it.

He was already inside, but you knew which window was his. You stared up at it for a couple minutes, before something snapped inside you and you realized what you were doing. You felt nauseous, but that was quickly forgotten when you noticed the time. Panic shot through you, as you began to run back to the office. You could only hope that your boss wouldn’t notice your extended lunch break.

At first, it was a rare occurrence. Ever so often you would find yourself standing in front of those red bricks staring up at that window. Nothing would ever happen. You would just stare, part of you hoping to catch a glimpse of him and another part of you dreading the idea of ever seeing him again.

As your addiction to your job continued to consume you, it became a more frequent occurrence. Once a month turned to twice and then to once a week. Your mental health slowly deteriorated, until you were at risk of losing it completely. Somewhere in that time, you managed to pull yourself enough to end up at a shitty dive bar in the heart of the city with the few friends you had managed to keep. You weren’t that close to them. You doubt they knew your middle name or your birthday, but they were company you didn’t get much of that these days.

The beginning of your evening was spent slowly downing alcohol and catching up about the dullness of each of your existences. You spat out lies, hiding the fact that all your life was anymore was work and stalking your ex. You put on a front. You had other friends. You had been on dates but nothing had worked out yet. You had started dieting and working out. Lies, lies, lies.

Somewhere around your third beer, the fragile illusion you had created for yourself, came crashing down. You were well aware that these girls were friends with Namjoon and that they had undoubtedly received an invitation to his wedding, but while they were relatively sober they had been kind enough not to remind you. Now, however, their blood-alcohol levels were through the roof and as a consequence, they began to discuss the details of the wedding.

At some point, someone asked you what you were going to wear to the event. You stared at her dumbly before she realized what a stupid question it was and turned back to whoever she was talking to. You hadn't received an invitation to the wedding but a small part of you was glad. You didn’t really want the reminder, and you wouldn’t go anyway, you weren't that masochistic.

Okay, so that wasn’t entirely true. There was a part of you that did want to go. A part of you that daydreamed of standing up in front of the entire church and begging him not to marry her. Begging him to come home with you. Begging him to love you again. But it was a stupid fantasy, and not one you should indulge in.

Lisa, the only person there who you really gave two shits about, turned to you and began to talk about your job again. When you let it slip that you had ran into Namjoon at lunch awhile ago, she looked like a little kid on Christmas. With her filter gone, she began to pester you with questions. Then she lit up.

“I have an idea.”

You internally groaned. Lisa was famous for her drunk ideas and none of them were ever good.

“You should come with me to the wedding as my plus one.”

Your eyes went wide.

“Lisa, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun. You can get all dressed up and make him see what he’s missin’.”

It did sound tempting.

“Okay.”

You didn’t sound very sure, but Lisa was too drunk to care. She squealed before giving you a quick side hug and turning to talk to someone else. As the gravity of the situation hit you, you found yourself longing to forget everything. You threw back two shots of tequila before marching out onto the dance floor.

It didn't take long for some random stranger to come grind up on you, but you were too drunk and upset to care. In fact, feeling someone touch your body again was somewhat soothing. It didn't take long for your lips to find his and it didn't take much for you to convince him to come home with you.

You barely noticed saying goodbye to you friends as he dragged you out the door and into the back of an uber. You barely remembered anything else until you woke up the next morning with a pounding headache and a strange man in your bed.

It was the first time you had really seen him, too inebriated the night before to really notice his features. You didn't want to admit how similar they were. It was the dimples that gave it away. Even drunk, you still seemed to have a type.

He was adorable, lying there, so unaware of the rest of the world. It reminded you of your first date with Namjoon. While he began the night full of energy, he ended it passed out with his head in your lap.

5 Years Ago

You met him through mutual friends. He asked you out at a party and you still remember the red tinge on his cheeks to this day. You had developed a crush and you were delighted to oblige him.

Namjoon was a very simple man, and you didn't expect much more out of your date. Just dinner and a movie. However, he obviously wanted to impress you when he drove out of the city and to a beautiful flower field overlooking it. Halfway into your picnic dinner, he sheepishly confessed to having no cooking skills and that his best friend Jin had prepared your dinner. But that didn't matter, because for what Namjoon lacked in the culinary arts, he made up for with his mind. Namjoon blew you away with the shear capacity of his brain. He was obviously a nervous talker, and so you sat in awe as he spilt facts about whatever subject you were talking about.

"How do you know so much?"

"I don't know that much."

You gave him a look.

He sighed.

"I don't know, I just do. I consume information and I never really forget it. Most people find it annoying. At least that's what Jin tells me."

"It's adorable."

You both blushed.

"Thanks."

He looked sheepishly at his lap.

"So are you."

"What?"

You looked up at him confused.

"You're adorable too."

You're cheeks blazed scarlet.

When you mustered the courage to look at him, he was staring at your lips. His eyes quickly flitted back to yours when he noticed you looking at him. He coughed uncomfortably.

You weren't sure what came over you, but you found yourself tentatively placing your hand on his thigh. You looked at him nervously, while trying to muster the confidence to close the gap between you.

Luckily, you didn't need to. One second you were staring at his lips, the next they were on yours. You were happy to find that they were just as soft and plush as they looked. He moved rhythmically, and you prayed to god that you were as good of a kisser as he was.

Then the rain started. It was just a drizzle at first, but by the time you had packed up the picnic, it had begun to pour. You dashed to the car, soaked to the bone. When Namjoon pulled up to your apartment building, you invited him in to dry off. While his clothes were in the dryer, you started a movie, some cheesy rom-com. You weren't even thirty minutes in, when Namjoon fell asleep in your lap while you played with his hair.

The memory faded and instead of Namjoon, you found the mystery man whose name you didn't know. You woke him gently, offered him some coffee- which he declined- before sending him on his way. You weren't trying to be rude, but the longer you looked at him, the longer you were reminded of Joon, and you only had a limited capacity for heartache.

This time you didn't even bother to change out of sweats and a t-shirt. You must have looked like a mess as you rode the bus to the red-brick building. You were smart enough to bring a coffee and a book so that you had something to occupy yourself, as you sat on the bench across the street. You didn’t even look at the window anymore, just being this close to him was enough to satisfy your weird urge.

You had been sitting for an hour before he appeared. He didn't even glance your way. Your nerves twittered, praying that he wouldn’t see you. You quickly stored your book and coffee in your tote, before following him down the streets.

He led you downtown. You were always jealous of how close his apartment was to the hub of the city. The cars whizzed by you as you followed him down a boulevard of shops. Your heart stopped as you watched him walk into the jewelers. It made sense: he was getting married, rings were involved, but somehow this made it more real. He was investing thousands of dollars in this woman. He was investing his life.

The fact that it was the jewelers that you had visited back when you thought you were going to get married only made it worse. Your heart began to beat faster. Was he going to give her your ring?

3 Years Ago

"Which one do you like?"

You looked over the case carefully inspecting each ring for flaws. After five minutes, you pointed at a sapphire and diamond ring near the back. It was relatively simple, but that’s what drew you to it.

He smiled.

"Well, someday, when you're Mrs. Kim, that ring will be around your finger."

You grinned and lifted up to meet his lips.

"I love you."

"I love you more, Joonie."

"I seriously doubt that."

You giggled and followed him out the door for lunch.

As soon as he came out of the shop, you rushed in. You went straight for the case that you knew had held your precious band. It took you a minute to spot it, but when you did, you felt relief flood your body. It was still there, he wasn't forsaking you for her.

As the relief washed over you, you began to connect to reality again. You realized what you were doing. With it came the nausea. Coming back to reality was always painful. You hadn't deemed yourself a stalker yet, even know though you knew you should. The self-hatred followed you home, up the stairs and through your apartment door.

You didn't mean to follow him. Somehow, the part of you that still loved him (which was a larger part of you than you cared to admit), had gained the ability to control your actions, while the logical part of you sat in the backseat screaming. The shame continued to throb inside you as you curled up on your couch. You knew you needed to stop but you didn't know how.

You didn't and as the months passed you found yourself following him whenever you had spare time. You were careful, staying a good distance behind him. If he had noticed you, he didn't let you know. He seemed blissfully unaware. The worst part was that as you followed him, you began to realize he was truly happy: something you hadn't witnessed since the early days of your relationship.

At some point, you started bringing your camera along. You weren't sure how the pictures of him ended up on your camera roll, and then pinned to your bedroom wall. You would lay in bed at night, touching yourself with one hand, while another tightly grasped a photo of him.

In the morning, you would be so sick with yourself, you would vomit in the toilet. Three months passed like this before his dreaded wedding day arrived. The sane part of you didn't want to go, but the creepy, deviant part of you had more control, and thus you found yourself in front of the mirror in a simple sundress.

Lisa had attempted to convince you to wear a skimpy number in order to make Namjoon jealous, but you knew that Namjoon always found you sexier when you looked innocent. You had often teased him about it. So you settled for a simple floral piece and some kitten pumps.

When you walked into the venue you felt another twinge of jealousy at the grandeur. The church was old and gorgeous and you felt like a sinner just by existing in it. You sat in the back. Your nerves kept you calm enough to decide you didn't need Namjoon knowing about your presence just yet.

You blacked out for most of the ceremony. It was only when Lisa waved her hand in front of you that you realized that instead of witnessing the union of 'man and wife', you were busy daydreaming about said 'man' taking you in front of the whole church.

You stared out the window of Lisa's care wistfully as she drove to the reception. When you started to tear up, she pulled over in a park parking lot.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

You almost pulled it over, but the slight quiver in your voice gave you away.

"Sis, if you don't wanna go, we don't have too. We can just head to my apartment, order Chinese food, binge Netflix, and do facemasks."

It sounded so, so tempting, but you know you needed to make it through it. You needed to prove to the part of yourself that was going insane, that you didn't need him anymore.

You thought back to the day you came home from work to find his bags packed in the living room. You thought about the tears that streamed down your face as you tried, and failed, to convince him to stay, that you loved him more than your job.

He cried too, pulling you into a hug, the last one you would ever have. You remember how his chest, which was usually so strong and comforting, trembled against yours. How you weren't sure if the wet warmth on your cheek was from him or from you.

You must have stood like that for thirty minutes, before he pulled away, gave you a last kiss, grabbed his bags and left. It wasn't until later that evening that you discovered his letter.

My Love,

I don't want to do this, but I am no longer happy. We are no longer happy. There isn't much left to us in all reality. I love you to the moon and back, but I can't spend the rest of my life waiting for you to come home from work. I know it's important to you and I would never ask you to leave it, but I have a life to live too.

You made me so happy for such a long time, but you are a writer in the dark. You stay up all night on your computer and leave me with a cold empty bed. When I wake in the morning, you're gone. I can't stay in a relationship that barely exists.

Someday, when you feel like you can put your job aside for a family, call me. I'll be here because I love you. I love you so much, it makes it hard to breathe. Be happy for me.

Love,

Namjoon

And so here you were, in a passenger seat on the way to his wedding reception. Just a girl with a broken heart and a broken promise. You needed to go. You needed to see him. Confront him.

"Drive."

You sat through dinner, barely touching the food on your plate. You listened to your friends chatter away and make snarky comments through all the speeches. When the dancing started, you were hesitant to move, but Lisa dragged you to the edge of the dance floor and forced you to witness the first dance.

You spent most of it staring at the floor nursing a martini that was almost straight gin. You finally looked up at the end of the song, some cheesy pop shit you knew Namjoon loved, and locked eyes with him. His hand was delicately placed over her waste and you secretly wondered how many hours of practice it took for him to be able to dance to this song. The waltz was never his forte.

His stare never left you and as soon as the song was over, he whispered in her ear before walking straight at you. You drowned your drink quickly, praying the alcohol would be enough to get you through whatever was coming. He grabbed your arm without saying a word and dragged you out of the ballroom and into the nearest bathroom.

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

His voice was harsh, but there was a touch of tenderness to it.

"Lisa made me come. I don't want to be here anymore than you want me."

"Bullshit!"

You raised an eyebrow at his retort, signaling that you knew he knew you were lying, but you weren't going to tell him the truth.

"I just can't deal with seeing you right now. Do you know what you being here is doing to me?"

You felt a spark of anger go off inside you. He had an issue with being here? That's swell and all, but he was the one who broke up with you. He was getting married, you being here should be nothing more than a footnote.

"I don't care, Namjoon, I don't care if you're hurt or not. I don't care if it's ruining your big day. You leaving ruined my life. I have spent the last year and a half dying because you're not in my bed when I wake up in the morning. And I know that I fucked up and that I needed to be there for you, but you left me without giving me the chance to change! You. Left. Me."

Somewhere in the middle of ranting, hot tears had begun to fall down your cheek and you were once again thankful that you had splurged on waterproof makeup.

"Don't act like such a victim. At least I know that the woman I'm marrying actually loves me."

His words fanned your little spark into a full blown flame and you raised your hand to slap him, but he grabbed your wrist before you could. You looked to his face expecting to see anger, but instead, his eyes showed a mixture of sadness and disappointment.

"I'm sorry." He said.

Next thing you knew, his lips were on yours, soft as you had remembered them. Shock ran through your body and you froze as he continued to kiss you slowly. When he realized you weren't responding, he pulled away, a faint blush apparent on his cheeks.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, you found his lips again. You immediately felt his body relax against yours as his arm snaked around your waste to pull you closer. A bittersweet feeling floated through you as you relished in his taste again. You hadn't realized how much you missed kissing him, how comforting he was.

Somewhere deep inside you was yelling that this was an illusion. That at some point he would have to leave the bathroom and go back to his new wife who would love him and give him children and grow old with him.But you squashed the voice, desperate to live in the moment. Desperate to believe that just for this time, he was yours. That you were his new wife, that you were going to have beautiful children and that in sixty years, you would be two old people stupidly in love.

The kissing quickly became messy and desperate. You unabashedly moaned to his mouth and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue in his tongue. Your arms were wrapped around his neck in an attempt to keep him as close to you as possible, as if letting go would mean losing him forever.

He pulled away from you and looked you in the eyes.

"You always look so beautiful."

The comment was quiet and under his breath, but you heard him nonetheless, and warmth crept onto your cheek. Before you could respond, he picked you up and set you on the sink counter.

You welcomed him, as he stepped between your legs, returning his lips to yours. As his lips moved down your neck, his hand traced its way up your thigh, slowly moving your dress up your leg. You moaned as he began to trace circled in your inner thigh, feeling your underwear soaking through.

"Dear god, Joonie," you whine,"don't tease me."

The nickname slipped out without your awareness, but you noticed him pause subtly at the sound of it before returning to his ministrations. His lips returned to yours as he shifted your panties to the side and used his pointer finger to tease your clit.

You whined out at the sudden pleasure, legs tightening on his waist, trying to bring him closer. Trying to bring him home. When he slips a finger inside you, you throw your head back against the mirror. Your eyes squeeze shut, attention completely focused on the digit inside you.

Despite the time that had passed, he hadn't forgotten how to make you see white. With the exception of the man you had dragged back from the bar, you hadn’t been laid in forever, and as a result, you were incredibly sensitive. Right when he was about to tip you over the edge with no more than a finger, he pulled back, lust clouding his eyes, finger soaked.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me?"

You whined at the old nickname, clenching your thighs together in a desperate attempt to relieve the ache between your thighs. Namjoon's hand drifted to the front of his slacks to massage the tent that had formed in them, while admiring your fucked out form slouched on the hotel bathroom sink.

"Answer my question baby."

A yes slips out of you and he grins like the devil.

"Look, at you, such a dirty girl, all fucked out in a public bathroom, desperate for me to fuck her."

Nothing had changed. He was still the tease who manipulated your body until you experienced cloud nine. And you were his good girl who obeyed every command, desperate to please.

You dipped your fingers into yourself in an attempt to stretch your pussy open for him, while he slowly dragged down his zipper, and pulled his cock out through the fly. Your memory served you well, but he still seemed bigger than you remembered. The tip was flushed red and dripping pre-cum. For a split second you were worried about him staining his slacks, before dashing your concern away to the depths of your consciousness.

You knew you should, but you felt no guilt for what you were about to do. As far as you were concerned, this was Namjoon’s mistake, not your’s. Sure, there was a beautiful bride dancing in the ballroom, and sure, she didn’t deserve this, but no matter what the certificate said, Namjoon would always be yours.

The realization hit you, as he kissed you again, moaning into your mouth as he rubbed the tip of his cock against you. There would always be a part of him that would belong to you. There would always be a part of his heart, no matter how small, that loved you. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be here, now, about to fuck you in the small, but beautiful bathroom, at his own wedding reception.

The notion made you feel powerful. Your hand quickly replaced his, and you gave him a few quick strokes before lining him up. You both moaned as his tip pressed into you. When he was fully inside, you couldn’t help but feel complete. Months of emptiness completely forgotten as he slowly pulled out before thrusting back in.

“Fuck, baby, I forgot how tight you were.”

Tears pricked in your eyes as he began to pick up pace, moving faster and faster. Despite trying hard to pretend like this moment could last forever, you knew that she would notice him missing soon, and that this moment was doomed to end. You squeezed your eye’s shut, tried to focus on the feeling of him drilling in and out of you.

It didn’t take long for his pace to become unsteady. You opened your eyes to find him staring at your face. You couldn’t read the look on his face, but it carried a strangely familiar emotion. It wasn’t until he reached down to rub quick circles on your clit that you realized what it was: love The realization had you coming around his cock. You screamed silently, tears finally falling down your face. He was close behind, burying his head in your neck as he filled you up one last time.

“I love you.”

The words were quiet. They were words that weren’t meant to be said out loud. They were words that would haunt him for the rest of his life. But they were the truth, and the truth deserved to be spoken.

“I love you too. I always will.”

You looked him in the eyes, while he softened inside you. There was a silent acknowledgement between you. An acknowledgement that neither of you wanted to admit. That you would never be together. That it would never work. That he was married.

So, while remaining completely silent, he slipped out of you, tucked himself into his slacks, fixed his hair and left. You sat there for minutes, tears rolling down your cheek. Finally, you gained enough energy to pull yourself off the sink, shift your panties back into place and walk back out into the world.

You quickly went to your table, grabbed your purse, and said goodbye to Lisa. If she smelled the sex, she didn’t say anything. When you were at the door, you looked back for half a second. He was dancing with her, laughing at something she said. He looked happy, and you prayed to God that he was.

That night you sat down at your computer and began to write your grand, tragic love story.

__________________

seven years later

You laughed as you walked out into the chill autumn air. Hoseok had that effect on you. Always had. He had just treated you to a wonderful celebration dinner in honor of your first best selling book, a novel about a woman unable to let go of her former love.

As you were about to leave your daughter tugged on his hand informing Hoseok of her need to go to the bathroom. Your husband gave you a quick kiss, before taking the four year old back inside. You stood on the sidewalk, breathing in the air and admiring the city lights, reflecting on how you got there.

A month after Namjoon’s wedding, you met Hoseok in a coffee shop you were writing at. You had hit it off pretty quickly, and two years later you were married. Your daughter, Marie, followed soon after. A month ago, your novel was finally published for the world. And so here you were, celebrating with the family that you loved so much.

“Hi.”

You looked up, startled.

“Namjoon,” you breathed, “what are you doing here?”

“I was, uh, going for a walk.”

Your gazed washed over him, and you noted that he didn’t look too good. His hair was long and unkempt, dark circles under his eyes, and his usual impeccable sense of style was thrown away for some sweats and a hoodie.

“Are you okay?”

You couldn’t help the concern that painted your face.

“I’ve been better.”

He gave you a sad smile.

“Oh?”

“We’re going through a rough patch. I think she wants to get a divorce.”

“Oh.”

At one point, those words would've made your year, but that part of you had died a long time ago.

“Maybe we could go out for a cup of coff-”

His words stopped when he saw the diamond and sapphire ring on your finger.

“Oh.”

His face fell. It was then that Hoseok decided to grace the two of you with his presence. Namjoon quickly looked from you, to Hoseok, to your daughter, as he slowly began to put the picture together. He looked pained. You knew the look, the look of loss.

“Who’s this?”

Hoseok’s voice was cheery and you were once again grateful for your husband’s consistant happiness.

“An old friend. You take Marie to the car, and I’ll catch up with you in a sec.”

He nodded, happy to oblige. When he was out of earshot, you turned back to Namjoon.

“You were supposed to call.”

You stared blankly at him.

“What?” you finally ask.

“You were supposed to call when you were ready to have a family.”

You looked at him in shock.

“Namjoon, you got married.”

“I know, but I would’ve left her for you.”

“You’re insane.”

“I’m not. I still love you. And you still love me. You promised me you would forever.”

“Well, it was a naive promise to make.”

He looked like he was about to cry.

“Look, Joon, go home. I know you loved your wife, and I’m willing to guess you still do. Relationships take work, you know that. You’ve alwayknown that. Show her that she means the world to you. Whatever’s going on, you can make it through it. Whatever part of you still loves me, kill it.”

He nods

“I have to go. But call me when you’re in a better spot, okay?”

You hand him a business card, before walking away into the night.

A month later, you get a text.

“We made it work. Coffee on Wednesday?”

You smiled.

series m.list m.list

#ficswithluv #btsbookclub #networkbangtan #namjoon #fanfic #smut #angst #joonie #rm #bangtant sonyeondan #bts #writer in the dark #melodrama

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zophora · 7 years ago

Text

Halo

Pairing: Tom Holland x Neutral reader

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Kat killed me with that moodboard of lazy mornings with Tom so this fic is sort of based off it. Her blog is @loserparker and this is also not really based off the song “Halo” by Beyonce (Tom is Bold)

Warning: Mentioning a bit of that scene (you know what I’m talking about) from Infinity War. So be careful if you haven’t seen it! Also, just a bit of sadness at the end.

The formatting is fucking up :)

Masterlist

~Hit me like a ray of sun, Burning through my darkest night, You're the only one that I want, Think I'm addicted to your light~

Slowly opening your eyes, you glanced around the room. Bright yellow light was streaming in through the cracks of the blinds. The bed was a mess of blankets and pillows thrown everywhere. To your right laid Tom.

His body was wrapped tightly in the comforter with his head on the pillow. You could hear his shallow breathing as he slept peacefully. And in this moment, you swear you could see your whole life flash before your eyes. And you knew, yes, it sounded cliche, but you couldn’t help it.

You saw Tom proposing, knowing him it would probably be something extra, somehow more extra than he usually is. You laughed quietly to yourself. You saw yourself walking down the aisle, your family and friends standing and smiling at you and Tom, standing at the altar with the biggest smile on his face you had ever seen him have and tears in his eyes. You saw your kids running around the house that you two had bought together with Tom chasing after them pretending he was Spider-Man chasing his little villains. You saw your children all grown up and you and Tom growing old together, reminiscing about the years you spent with each other falling in love over and over again.

“I can feel you staring at me,” Tom said snapping you out of your thoughts. He opened his eyes and smiled at you.

“Caught red-handed. But can you really blame me? I’m staring at art,” you said jokingly, smiling back at him.

“Really? Well, come give this piece of art a kiss,” he said with a smirk.

“Augh, you’re so annoying” but you leaned in and gave him a kiss anyways.

“So, what are we doing today? I don’t have work and you don’t have filming today….”

You took one look at each other and said in unison “lazy day”

See, this is why we are so perfect together. We both love doing nothing and I couldn’t ask for a better person to do nothing with.

“We have to make our ‘special lazy day lunch’ first,” Tom said.

You laughed and said “of course”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This isn’t the first time you and Tom have had a chance to do nothing all day. This happened whenever the two of you were actually home at the same time, which didn’t happen that often, but when it did, you two would have the most amazing day.

Now, your definition of ‘lazy day’ was just a bit different. Instead of laying in the bed all day sleeping and waking up, bored out of your mind, or just staring at your phone, you and Tom made it fun.

On those days, you usually woke up whenever your body decided to wake you up. Sometimes you woke up first and sometimes Tom woke up first. When Tom woke up first, he would go to the kitchen and fix breakfast for the both of you if it was still morning. The only reason you woke up was because you didn’t feel the warmth of his body next to yours. Wandering into the kitchen, you would always find a mess and Tom trying to frantically make pancakes or waffles before you woke up. Unfortunately, you always woke up before he could make it back to bed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Tommy, can you take out the Belgian waffle maker and the bacon?”

It was a little past 12 and Tom wanted lunch, but you wanted breakfast, so you two decided on brunch. You came to a resolution of Belgian waffles, bacon, mini sandwiches, fruit, and croissants (of course). It took about a half hour to make everything and after getting all your food together, you headed back to bed.

You took out a blanket from the linen closet and laid it out on the floor. Tom put out all the plates of food and your drinks and grabbed some pillows from the bed. It was a cute little indoor picnic.

“So how was your sleep?” You asked Tom as you two sat on the blanket and started eating.

“Pretty good until you woke me up with your staring,” he said with a sly grin.

“Hey! My staring definitely did not wake you up!”

“I’m just kidding, love. My sleep was great. I was having the most amazing dream where we had an amazing weekend getaway to Italy.”

“That sounds romantic, we should definitely do that sometime. Talk about the perfect place to go with the love of my life,” you said staring at him with only love in your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter where we go to me, as long as I’m there with you.”

You and Tom had a long conversation of the perfect trip to Italy, finished your food, and cleaned up the picnic, moving onto the next “lazy day” activity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, so I’m thinking that I want a rematch from last week…..”

“I have no idea what you are talking about, Y/N,” he said blinking his eyes knowing full well what you were talking about.

“Don’t play stupid with me, Stanley. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Tom looked at you intently and then opened his eyes wide, pretending to finally realize what you are talking about, “Ohhhhh you mean that dance battle we had??”

“Yes Tom, and as I recall, there was one part where you cheated which caused you to win the whole thing and I want a rematch.”

“You can have your rematch, but for the record, I definitely did not cheat, I’m just a really good dancer”

“Sure Thomas”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Last week, you and Tom had come home from a premiere and were still pretty energized considering the buzz of flashing cameras and the fun you had at the after party. So to try to get rid of some of that energy, you guys decided to have a dance off playing Just Dance 2014.

As you went through the different songs, you would win some and Tom would win some. When you got to your last song, which was Jason Derulo’s “The Other Side,” Tom managed to somehow cheat. You two were tied for wins and this song would have determined the champion of Just Dance 2014.

Well, right before you guys danced, Tom went into the other room and got on the phone with someone. You didn’t think it was important at the time, but looking back you realized what he did.

Sometime near the end of the song, you and Tom were neck and neck when someone suddenly burst through the front door and started calling out, “HELLO HELLO ANYONE HOOOMEEE?!?”

You, of course, got distracted and your moves started getting sloppy until you got so far behind in points that you just decided to give up.

The person who came in the room was obviously HARRISON.

“TOM YOU FREAKING CHEATED”

“I have no idea what you are talking about!”

“YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT! WHY IS HARRISON HERE?”

Harrison looked dumbfounded and said, “Whatever could you mean?” Placing his hand over his heart, “Honestly, I was just stopping by to say hello and see what you guys were up to. Apparently, I stepped in the middle of something…..”

“Oh don’t play dumb with me Haz. I know that you are in cahoots with Mr. Cheater over there trying hard not to laugh.”

“Y/N I swear, I won fair and square,” Tom said trying to suppress a smile.

“Yeah whatever man. I’m tired, but I definitely want a rematch.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You made sure all the doors were locked and that Harrison was nowhere near where you and Tom lived. Luckily, he was out of town with some friends. Tom set up Just Dance 2014 and picked the Jason Derulo song.

“You sure you want this rematch? Are you ready to lose again?”

“Are you ready to take this hit to your ego, Stanley?”

You danced your heart out and Tom did too. In the end, with no distractions, you came out victorious.

“HA I KNEW IT!! DON’T TRY TO TELL ME ANYTHING”

You felt slightly bad because Tom did look seriously surprised. Like he knew that you were a pretty decent dancer, but considering ‘The Other Side’ was one of the hardest songs in the game, he thought he had a fighting chance. Boy, was he wrong.

“Alright, I’ll admit when I’m wrong. You are the rightful champion of Just Dance 2014. Do you want a scepter with that crown?”

“Actually, yeah. I would freaking love that. Now you can treat me like royalty for the rest of the day”

Tom just smiled and bowed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“As I was saying, I just think that you know, Marvel didn’t have to hurt us like that. And especially you! What the hell was that???”

You and Tom had been going back and forth about Avengers Infinity War. It was now dark outside and after you had won your little competition, Tom ordered a pizza. You were now laying in bed staring at the ceiling with a pizza box between the two of you.

“Well, I don’t really know. Those lines just kinda came to me. It was completely improve. I mean, I just repeated the same thing, not really a big deal,” he said with a little shrug of his shoulders.

You gasped and hit him, “What do you mean not a big deal?? That scene made Marvel fans around the world freaking cry.”

“Yeah I guess. I don’t know. There was so much going on, that I was like, I’ll do something and just hope people think it’s good enough.”

Your body shot up, sitting straight in the bed staring at Tom. The moonlight was coming in through the cracks of your blinds and the light was lighting up Tom’s face. You could see the subtle movements in his eyes as they darted back in forth between your face and the wall, like he was afraid of something. His eyes looked as though they desperately wanted to let out tears. The smile that he had a couple of minutes ago, now faded, with no trace of it ever being there.

“Tom? What’s wrong?” He didn’t respond, but sat up and stared out the window instead.

You wrapped your arms around him from behind and put your chin on his shoulder.

“Baby, you can tell me anything. Don’t ever feel like you have to hide something from me….”

“I just… I have so much to live up to. I’m constantly surrounded by people that have made a name for themselves in this crazy town. And I have to somehow prove to all of them, my parents, my siblings, my friends, those people that bullied me when I was younger, and everyone else that I’m good enough. And on top of that, I have to keep up this image of myself. I mean, It’s not like I’m faking anything in front of the cameras, but to act a certain way all the time is just draining.”

As you looked at Tom, you saw a few tears fall from his eyes. You stood up off the bed in crouched down in front of him, took his hands in your hands and looked up at him.

“Tommy, look at me.” It took him a minute to meet your eyes.

“Okay well, first of all, you do not have to prove yourself to anyone. Everyone knows just how hard you are working. You’re working so hard that sometimes, I barely get to see you because you are off filming or promoting a movie.”

Tom interrupted you and said, “And I completely forgot about that. I’m not even around the person I’m dating. How could I be so selfish?”

“Tom. You. Are. Not. Selfish. It is one hundred percent okay because I love you and I know that you are trying to build your career. That just means that the moments that we have together are very important because of the little time we have. It means that when you are around, I cherish that time even more because when you aren’t here, I think back on those moments and you know what? I don’t cry, I smile. I smile because I love you too much to ever get in the way of what you love to do because I know that we will always have these moments and I always have something to look forward to in my life, you coming back home to me.”

“How did I ever get someone as amazing as you?”

“You were patient enough to wait for someone that was perfect for you. Now it’s my turn to do the same. I’ll wait for as long as you need me to. As long as one day you put a ring on my finger,” you said cracking a smile.

Tom let out a little laugh and said, “you can definitely count on that, love”

\\Tags: @hollandbaby @dearcindymoon @sarsmusings @patron-saintof-sluts @pickachurose @tomhoellandb @bangtanscope @heroholland @wtfholland @onewrogue @purepeterparker @stephie-senpai @beautifullydisconnected @babykaykay2000 @tomsfireheart

#i was feeling a certain way towards the end lmao #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fic #tom holland imagine #tom holland headcanon #tom holland blurb #tom holland drabble #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #harrison osterfield

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