British One-shots and Imagines

Oneshot 4 (Benedict Cumberbatch)

In which you, a costume designer for the movie Infinity War, get a bit emotional as your fiancé is filming his death scene.

WARNINGS: Infinity War spoilers, angst, maybe a few tears, Benedict being a sweetheart, crappy writing, and terrible humor.

"Benedict Timothy Carlton Cumberbatch!" 

Ben's sheepish smile was enough for you to lower the volume of your voice. Heads turned and grins activated all across the set. You heard Robert's distinctive laugh from some distance away. 

"Yes, sweetheart?" Ben's deep, sweet voice also lowered your anger level. Well, more like mock anger, exasperation maybe. 

You crossed your arms, raising your eyebrows at him. "What did I tell you to do if there was a loose thread on your costume?" 

Ben's cheesy smile grew. "Come to you so you could fix it. Did I mention how much I love you?" 

Your eyebrows raised higher into your forehead. "And what did I tell you not to do if there was a loose thread on your costume?" 

Ben looked down, mack ashamed, still grinning. "Don't pick at it." 

"An what did you do?" 

"Picked at it." 

You uncrossed your arms, rolling your eyes in a playful way. Sensing your forgiveness, Ben grinned happily and bent down for a kiss. At the last minute, you turned your head so instead of your lips he reached, it was your cheek. 

Pulling away, you caught a glance at Ben's pout. You grinned, gestured for him to give you the Doctor Strange cloak to fix. He unclasped it from his shoulders, and you grabbed it from his hands. "I'll be done in five minutes, your cape will be fine." 

"It's a cloak!" He shouted to your retreating back, and you grinned again. 

As you promised, five minutes later, the cape's (cloak, as he would've called it) loose thread was fixed. Ben was standing next to Holland as the Guardian crew filmed a scene. 

You waited for one of the Russos to call out the tell-tale "Cut!" before walking over to Ben. 

You tapped him on the shoulder, and when he spun, his face lit up. "Hello, darling." 

Rolling your eyes, you chuckled. "Turn around Ben, and get on your knees for God's sake, you're too tall." He laughed, and bent down on one knee, lowering himself so you could hook the cloak over his broad shoulders. 

You kissed the top of his head and stepped back as he rose to his feet. He turned to face you and wrapped you in a bear hug. Your head fit just below his shoulder, and you wondered for the umpteenth time how he got so tall. 

"What did I do to deserve such a wonderful future wife?" 

"I dunno, she's pretty cool though." You muffled into his arm and Ben's laugh sent vibration running down your spine. 

"That she is." 

"Alrighty you two, break it up. I leave for two minutes and you are virtually making out." 

Robert walked over, mock anger in his face, and Tom snorted next to you. Ben rolled his eye and released you, and you put your hands on your hips. "Don't you have a wife Robert dear?" 

He wagged a finger at you. "Ah, but I don't bring her to set and make-out while I'm working."  

"Lier, lier, pants on fire, I have picture proof that says otherwise." Robert's mouth dropped in shock, then he shook his head, tisking under his breath.