#tom hiddleston fic

[muddyorbsblr]

remote consults behind enemy lines [kinktober 2023: formal wear…and role play(?)]

See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! 'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: 2020, during the filming of Loki Season 1

Summary: You casually reveal that you consulted on costume design for another supersuit, leading to an unexpected reaction from your boyfriend

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, don't u dare even try me); kinda public sex; unprotected p in v; role play; clothed sex; language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship; Reader's wearing a dress; Tom's wearing Loki's coronation armor; mango namedrop (i couldn't resist 🤣)

This was absolute torture in the most devilishly delicious way. Sitting in front of the monitor and watching your boyfriend acting out a scene wherein Loki was about to step in to the role of Crown Prince of Asgard because Thor had "gone missing" due to one of the god's shenanigans turning his brother into a literal frog, wearing the very costume that had the internet running amok with how it made certain parts of him so prominently shaped that Marvel's considerably lower budget back then had to make room for extra editing to keep the final cut family friendly.

You never thought the day would come that you would see him in that costume just mere feet away from you. And to have him take on that majestic stance with his feet shoulder width apart and arms outstretched as he basked in the applause and praise that the people of Asgard were showering him with?

"Fucking end me," you muttered as soon as Kate yelled for them to cut the cameras.

"Okay now I get why they needed the extra CGI budget for that bulge fucking Christ on a crutch," Bryan commented, lightly nudging at your shoulder to snap you out and stop you from shamelessly staring. "Why madam, should I go get you a paper towel or something for that bit of drool at the corner of your mouth?"

"Better get one for yourself as well, Bry. Now stop ogling my boyfriend before I get tempted to check if those prop daggers have any stab in them."

He gave you a playful scandalized look before walking away, making a big show of wiping his sleeve at the corner of his mouth to get a laugh out of you.

You turned back to face the monitor, only to have your face inches away from the 'fabled mango' that had a rather large corner of the internet in absolute shambles whenever a picture would be released that had it in plain view. Your eyes traveled upwards until they met with Tom's ocean blue ones, your boyfriend greeting you with a wide smile and a wicked gleam in his eyes that he was barely trying to keep contained.

"I suggest you take a step back unless you're fully prepared to give all our colleagues a show," you warned him, starting to mirror the expression on his face.

"But this is such an enticing view, sweetheart, why would I want to give it up?" he shot back, fingertips lightly tracing along your jawline. "And I highly doubt that you're fully prepared to give our colleagues a show."

You only responded to him by slowly running your tongue across the top row of your teeth. "Are you sure about that, sweetie?" That made him take a step back, causing you to break out into a wide grin and scrunching your nose at him. "So how's the costume feel?" you asked him while you two walked toward his trailer.

"Surprised it still fits, if I'm being honest," he answered you with a slight laugh. "Actually it might…fit a little better than it did a decade ago."

"Ooh, good you're still here." You both gave Kate a small wave as she jogged up to you. "I was about to tell you to make your way to Costuming to see if you needed any adjustments. Looks like you read my mind." She gave a quick look at your now joint hands, Tom hooking his finger around one of yours. "Y/N, I'm sure you can handle any adjustments he'll need so you two can go and work on that while we're setting up for the shot with the prop frog. And in case you two wanna say hi, Chris will be here today to record his lines as Frog Thor."

As if on cue, you heard a booming voice from several yards away. "Hi, Brother! Hi, tiny terror! Am I gonna be an uncle yet??"

"Not yet, Chris!" you both hollered back at him, making the Australian wave his hand in a jokingly dismissive manner at you before stepping in to the ADR area.

"There is something new about this costume now that I quite like," Tom spoke up again when you were just outside his trailer. "When I first had it, the inner layer under the metalwork used to be just one piece, like a bodysuit. Made it a whole affair just to go to the bathroom. Now it's a shirt and trousers setup and has a suspender mechanism worked into the metal to secure the bottom half in place. Made my day much easier."

"Well you're very welcome, sweetie," you responded absentmindedly, closing the trailer door.

"This was your work, goddess?"

"Uhm...yeah. I did some remote consultation last year for another superhero costume. The actor's main concern was how he'd pee while wearing the thing, so I drew up some sketches, made his suit a bit modular. But it was gonna be a conflict of interest if they got me for costume design considering my involvement with Marvel, so we minimized my work to justify not including my name in the credits."

You let out a tiny yelp feeling him walk behind you, arms wrapping around your waist as his nose traced a line from your collarbone to your ear. "Hmm…conflict of interest? So DC, then?" he rasped, nipping at your earlobe.

"Uh huh," you answered him breathlessly, leaning in to his embrace. "What I learned making the sketches for the Batsuit, I adapted into the adjustments for your costumes."

Something in the air shifted once the words left your mouth. His hold on you shifted into what almost felt…possessive. "Precious little mortal." The growl in his voice had you growing weaker in his arms. "Consulting behind enemy lines. For the man that I knew for a fact once held your attention so…fervently."

"Why sweetie, are you--Are you jealous? It was a college crush, and a light one at that." You turned in his arms to pull him into a quick kiss that quickly became heated, his hands moving to the backs of your thighs to lift you off your feet and press you against the wall of his trailer's tight entryway.

"It should matter not, so long as you remember that you are mine," he murmured against your lips, securing your body against the wall before moving to undo the suspenders under the metal armor by his hips. "Do you know what I particularly enjoy about your modifications, sweet Y/N?"

You shook your head at him, feeling your arousal pooling between your legs as he smirked at you, hearing the snap of the suspenders from underneath the armor coming off.

"Ease of access," he said simply, shuffling his pants down his thighs and freeing his quickly hardening length. His smirk widened into a devilish grin when he slipped his hand between your legs to find nearly drenched panties. "So gloriously eager…" he teased, moving the fabric to the side.

A high-pitched moan slipped from your lips when he eased his way into you, inch by torturous inch, in shallow thrusts. "Tom, sweetie I--"

"Thomas isn't here right now, pet."

Oh God. Oh fuck. "Loki?!"

"Such a clever little mortal," he grunted, starting to move in shallow thrusts, the tip of his cock easily brushing against a spot deep inside you that had you seeing stars especially from this angle. "Tell me you're mine." He let out a staggered breath, groaning into the crook of your neck as your warmth surrounded him. "T-Tell me who this gloriously tight p-perfect little quim belongs to."

"Y-You--oh f-fuck!" you told him shakily. "I belong to you. I'm yours, I'm all yours."

Obscene moans bounced off the walls of his trailer as he bit and sucked at your neck, working his hand between your bodies to rub tight circles on your clit. "Louder, darling. Say my name. Scream it. Let everyone who dares listen know that only I may claim you like this."

Your body started to shake with how hard your climax hit you, your walls fluttering and clenching around him while you let out a guttural scream of "LOKI!" that might've scratched your throat halfway raw. Before you could say it again, he slanted his mouth over yours, muffling both your screams in a heated kiss that felt rife with desperation as you felt his release starting to fill you, his hips jerking in a staggered rhythm.

It barely crossed your mind that this might get you into a heaping pile of trouble. That you might have just put your job at stake for a quickie with your boyfriend. He broke the kiss with a slight gasp, kissing a path from your cheek down to your neck while you both took deep breaths coming down from your high.

When you heard his breaths grow softer you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and upper back, lightly stroking his hair before you tried to talk, the intensity of the last few minutes still having you struggling to form any coherent words. "Tom?"

You felt a slight wave of relief when he answered you softly. "Yes, goddess?"

"Look at me, sweetie." You pressed a soft kiss to his temple before he pulled away from your neck, nearly blacked out eyes meeting your own. "I love you. Only you." Your hands went to frame his face, thumbs tracing along the lines of his cheekbones. "I don't think I'll ever…No one else could ever--"

Before you could say anything else, he leaned in to cut you off with a kiss, the rest of the words you struggled to say dying off with a whimper at the back of your throat. You still couldn't find it in you to say them anyway. You're it for me. You're the last man I'm gonna love. There won't be an 'after you'.

"You know that, right?" you murmured against his lips, settling for those words instead.

"I do." He quickly stole another kiss from you before continuing, "Some days it just gets to me. The thought that someday someone might--"

"That will never happen." You crossed your hands behind his neck, pulling him close enough that he could rest his forehead on yours. "Sorry to be the bearer of bad news but you're kinda stuck with me, sweetie."

"I may want to get that in writing one of these days," he shot back, his hands lightly grasping your sides before he pressed your bodies even closer together, if such a feat were even possible. "And if anything, you're stuck with me. There's no version of my future that I could ever see that doesn't have you with me."

He started to move inside you again, leaving you no choice but to process his words later, his hips moving in long, slow thrusts that had you feeling every devastating inch of him. "Again?" you whimpered breathlessly.

"You should know me well enough by now, goddess," he whispered, a devilish smile gracing his features and searing an image so erotically charged into your memory. "Once is never enough."

That was the day you agreed that quickies would never be an option again moving forward.

A/N: Another Kinktober 2023 story in the bag! Wait hold on…if I knocked out two prompts in this (kinda sorta), does this mean I only have 2 more to go before I get my initial goal or are y'all gonna absolutely snipe me ded if I pull that technicality? 🤣

I know I said 'bath/shower' with Magnus was next but I parallel-wrote that with this and this one got the banging out first while the other still has me blocked because smut is just…it's not my strong suit okay--it takes me 5-7 business days to get it done 🥴 Currently parallel writing that and the Conrad piece for 'slow & soft' and the President Loki piece for 'fingering' all at the same time so only time will tell which one of them will go up next 🫡

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

kinktober 2023 taglist: @azula-karai-27

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #muddyorbs writes

[lokidbadguy]

definitely gonna make more sad edit :)

#lokisaidkneel #lokidbadguy #loki odinson #loki x you #loki x reader #loki fanfic #loki series #loki season 2 #loki laufeyson #loki angst #loki edit #loki #tom hiddleston edit #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston

[holdmytesseract]

Could you please do tom x reader where they are friends to lovers? Maybe the pretend boyfriend that turns real? Smutty and fluffy?

Hide & Seek

Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Summary: Tom asks you to accompany him to Ben's birthday party. On the way there, you get stuck in traffic. A misunderstanding reveals long harboured feelings and things come how they had to come...

Warnings: mutual pining, thirst, fluff, jelousy? a misunderstanding, smuttish/suggestive stuff

Word Count: 3,1k

a/n: You guys wanted it and I am a woman of my words, so... Here it is! 🫡

I hope you like what I wrote for you @huntress-artemiss . 🥰 And I hope that everybody else enjoys it of course, too!

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @muddyorbsblr @smolvenger @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @jennyggggrrr @stupidthoughtsinwriting @evelyn-kingsley @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @lovingchoices14 @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @lokiforever @multifandom-worlds @hisredheadedgoddess28 @vbecker10 @jaidenhawke @km-ffluv @crimson25 @cakesandtom @buttercupcookies-blog @salvinaa @javagirl328 @dustychinchilla74 @frzntrx @coldnique

Masterlist °☆• Hiddles Masterlist

You heard the familiar 'ding' sound of your phone; announcing the arrival of a new message. With a hairpin pinned between your teeth and one hand in your hair, you quickly scooted over to your little make-up table, on which you had left your phone. Tapping on the screen, you immediately saw the message popping up.

'I'm here, darling. Are you ready? x'

You smiled, fixated your hair and quickly unlocked your phone; texting back.

'Almost. :) Gimme five mins, Tommy. x'

Not wasting any time, you applied some decent make-up, gave yourself a once over in the full-length mirror, grabbed the things you'd need and made your way towards the main door of your small, cosy house.

You had promised Tom - your best friend since you were teenagers, to accompany him to the birthday party of Ben. He didn't want to go alone - and you couldn't say no, of course. You never could say no when it came to Tom. Never. You'd anything for him. He was one of the most important people in your life. He was your sunshine on a rainy day. Your lighthouse in the raging storms. A safe haven to which you could always return.

A lot of people told you that this friendship wasn't going to last. After all, Tom was an actor. A famous actor. And you were just... you. But you proved them all wrong. The friendship lasted; survived every sharp turn, bump and crash on the way. A deep bond was formed; stronger than everything you ever experienced - and yet you were just best friends. Sure there had been opportunities to take this friendship to another level and turn it into something more, but neither of you took the opportunity.

You couldn't deny, though, that you had developed strong feelings for the handsome Brit over the years. Romantic feelings. How could somebody not fall for a man like Tom? He was a charming, kind, funny, talented, handsome gentleman with a heart of pure gold. You didn't dare to confess your feelings, because you didn't want to lose your best friend. Better have him as a best friend in your life than not at all, right?

So, the years flew by. Boyfriends came and boyfriends went. Just like with Tom. It was a heart wrenching pain whenever you met Tom's new girlfriend - and you hated it, but what were you supposed to do? All you wanted for him was happiness; but neither of you seemed to find happiness - at least when it came down to romantic relationships...

Another 'ding' of your mobile ripped you out of your thoughts. Shaking your head softly and trying to focus again; you opened the door and stepped out - only to almost stumble back inside.

A soft, cool breeze brushed past you; swirling your beige dress around your knees. The smell of rain hit your nose and some dark clouds hung in the sky; shielded the sun from shining down on you.

That wasn't what took your breath away, though. It was Tom, who stood not far away from you. Just a few meters; legs crossed, leaning casually against his black Jaguar with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his suit trousers.

Speaking of trousers... He was wearing a dark blue suit. Black dress shoes shone against the wet pavement; suit trousers hugging his long legs and hips snugly - held together by a black leather belt. The matching dark blue shirt wasn't any less tight; tailored perfectly for his lean yet strong upper body and forcing the small buttons to hold on for dear life. A tie and suit jacket in the exact same colour completed his look.

You swallowed a thick lump; had a hard time to control yourself and the rapidly beating heart within your chest. Luckily, Tom wasn't looking your way and didn't notice your distress. His gaze was directed to the street as he watched the cars drive by. The position showed off his ridiculously beautiful face; sharp jawline, high cheekbones - peppered with soft and fuzzy looking facial hair of his three-day beard. Tom's wild, blonde-brown curls had gotten so long; a hairsbreadth away from touching his broad shoulders. He looked like a prince, straight out of a fairytale book; combined with the perfect image of a photo shoot.

You bit your lip painfully hard; trying desperately to suppress the moan which threatened to slip past your lips.

It was insanely hot - and Tom didn't even notice the impact this had on you.

"Hey, Tommy," you finally greeted him; attracting his attention. Sure, you could've stared longer and admire the fine man he was, but you didn't want him to accidentally look and notice...

His head whipped around towards you; baby blues meeting your Y/E/C ones. "Hello, darling." A smile spread across his face, as he made his way over to you; giving you a hug. The hugs he gave his other friends didn't last quite as long as the hugs he gave you... You just didn't notice.

"Are you ready?" You nodded; smiling. "I was born ready. You should know that by now." You loved to tease him from time to time. Tom just chuckled; shaking his head. "I won't start now to recount the times you weren't ready. Let's go." You just giggled and followed your best friend to the car.

Being the gentleman the Brit was, he held the door open for you to sit inside his Jaguar. Once you were both seated, Tom started the engine and drove off towards the party.

Unfortunately, was the traffic on this fine Friday evening very bad; causing the both of you to get stuck. Like... Really stuck. Everything stood still. The little highway you were driving on was closed.

"Ugh, great... Now we'll be surely late to the party..." Tom gave you an apologetic look. "Apologies, Y/N/N... I should've taken the other route when I had the chance. Now it's too late... Can you text Ben?" He asked you, handing you his phone; gaze fixated on the cars in front of him. You shook your head, "No need to apologise, Tommy. You couldn't know. But yeah, I'm gonna text him." and unlocked Tom's phone as if it was your own. Not that you knew each other's password by heart... "Thank you, darling."

You tapped on WhatsApp, searched Ben's contact and entered the chat. Of course you tried hard to not read the last messages he received and sent to give your best friend some privacy, but when your eyes caught a glimpse of a text just above the text box you were writing your text in, you couldn't help but to look. You knew it was wrong, but before you were able to stop yourself, it was already too late and your gaze wandered...

Ben: So... You're gonna take her finally home then, right??

Tom: What, I- Ben stop that. I... I can't just do that. I don't think she'd want that... Me...

Ben: Friend... Are you kidding me? It's obvious she wants you.

Tom: You, uh, think so?

Ben: Know so. Shoot your shot, man, before it's too late...

You didn't have to read more. Swallowing hard, you stared at the messages for a moment. You knew exactly who Tom and Ben were obviously talking about... Chloe. A woman Tom had met on set a few months back. She was - well, is one of the costume designers and therefore saw Tom quite often. Someday, they started to talk during a break and well... According to Tom the sparks had been flying. He had told his best friend everything, of course - while you wished he hadn't. You tried to be happy for him - like you always did when he met a new woman, but... As much as you tried, your head never could win the battle against your heart. It was an undefeatable opponent. A invulnerable fortress.

You never met Chloe - and yet you despised her wholeheartedly. It wasn't fair, of course, but love had turned you into a monster.

"Y/N? Hey, Y/N/N."

You flinched and snapped out of your thoughts as Tom's soft velvet voice urged to your ears. "Is everything alright?" You blinked, nodded, "Yeah, sure. Sorry, I, uh, just drifted off." and sent the text. Giving him a fake smile, you exited the app and handed him his phone back. "Are you sure?" "Yep. Everything's good, Tommy."

You hated to lie to him, but you couldn't just tell him the truth now, could you?

'Hey, Tommy, I'm sorry but I spied on your texts and saw that one message, saying that you are going to obviously shag that bitch Chloe and now I'm kinda jealous, because it should be me instead!'

Nope, certainly not. But you also couldn't shake that thought of. It occupied you. A lot. Your brain thought about it non-stop; causing your heart to crack and shatter even more with every passing minute. You could not stand the thought of another woman in Tom's life. In his home. His bed. His heart.

You tried your best to put on a brave face, but your best friend wasn't blind. Neither stupid. He knew you better than you probably knew yourself...

At first the Brit didn't say anything. Given the fact that you clearly told and signalled him that you didn't wish to talk. But at some point, an undeniable, unpleasant tension started to built up between you both. Almost like an imaginary wall... It felt like every untold word, every unspoken feeling had pent up over the last weeks, months - years and were now about to culminate in the middle of an upcoming rain storm. Right here, right now; while being stuck in traffic.

Tom just couldn't take it any longer. He needed to know what had turned everything upside down all of a sudden. Why everything felt so wrong at this very moment.

"Y/N?" He asked you carefully once again. "I know you said everything is okay - and I feel that you clearly don't wish to speak to me, but-" "No, really, Tom. It's all good," you interrupted him once more; giving him another fake smile - and you could tell at the look of his face, that he had seen immediately through that fake smile. But before he was able to say something, you intervened; only digging the gaping hole in your heart deeper.

"Did you go on a date with Chloe?"

Tom frowned; was clearly confused of the sudden change of topic. "Y-Yes, but-" "Great. How did it go?" "Um, great, I-I guess, but why are you-" "Good. That's good. I'm happy for you Tom." You swallowed hard; feeling your heart scream in pain - but no matter how hard it hurt you, you just had to know what happened between them. You wanted to spare yourself the double gut punch. Might as well feel all the pain at once.

"But, Y/N... Why-" You chose not to leave him any space to question you and just get over with it. "Did you kiss her?" "W-What?" "Touch her?" "T-Touch her? Why would I-" "Sleep with her?" "I-" "Was she at least good in bed?" You kept on bombarding your best friend with questions. "Y/N-" "Was she, huh?" "Y/N, I-" "Did she made you cu-"

"Y/N!"

Tom suddenly exploded; screamed out your name and slamming his hands on the steering wheel of the Jag. He clearly had heard enough; couldn't listen to this any longer.

You went silent; didn't even dare to breathe for a second.

"I didn't sleep with her! I didn't touch her! Goddammit, I didn't even kiss her! Nothing happened between us! Nothing!" The Brit took a deep breath; trying to calm himself down again. You just stared at him; mouth closed shut.

"Yes, we met. Yes, it was great. But I wouldn't even call it a date. We talked and drank a glass of wine. Nothing more." You swallowed hard. "B-But, I-I thought you and Chloe were-" "A thing? No. We're not, Y/N." You blinked; were quite stunned at the sudden turnout of this situation - and once more was your mouth quicker to speak than your brain was able to think and so it came how it had to come...

"About who did you and Ben talk about then in your chat, if not Chloe?"

It slipped past your lips - and you immediately regretted it; afraid of Tom's reaction.

Tom's eyes widened to the size of plates; hands twitching to grip the steering wheel tight, while his cheeks turned beet red. The Brit had not thought about this conversation he had with his his friend - and now you knew.

"Shit, Tom, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to spy on your chats, I-I just saw it a-and was wondering about who-"

"You."

You blinked once more. "W-What?"

Tom turned to face you again; oceanic blue eyes meeting your Y/E/C ones.

Now or never, Tom thought.

"You, Y/N. We were talking about you."

You could've sworn that your heart skipped more than just one beat at his words. "M-Me?" You squeaked out; pointing at yourself. "Me?" "Yes. You. And the party today." Your eyes widened; jaw slacking in disbelief. "Y-You wanted to... Me?" Tom nodded; smiling nervously. "I always just wanted you, darling. No other woman on this earth is able to compare to you. My heart fell for you a long time ago. It belongs to you. Always has. Always will. I was just too afraid to tell-" Before he was able to finish his sentence, you had pulled him closer by the lapels of his stupidly sexy suit jacket and literally slammed your lips on his.

Tom was definitely shocked and overwhelmed at first, but he immediately relaxed; sighed in the kiss and pulled you as close as somehow possible with the car interior being quite a bit in the way.

All suppressed feelings and emotions finally broke free and melted into that very kiss. It felt like getting hit by an 18-wheeler truck and floating through heaven at the same time. It was a beautiful, chaotic mess, which the both of you enjoyed every second of - and tempted you to indulge into kiss after kiss after kiss.

You felt how your heartbeat quickened at the feeling of love and desire for the man beside you, as they were finally able to flood your body; veins pulsating with a dangerous mixture of endorphins and oxytocin - and Tom's musky smell, combined with the fruity blood orange and leather touch of his perfume didn't help at all. It made everything worse, without a doubt. Resisting Tom had been always difficult - but now that the chains were broken, it was impossible. And why should you stop yourself? There was no holding back anymore. The cards laid on the table.

You pushed Tom back into the driver seat; catching him by surprise. Your hand started to play with his tie; quickly undoing it. Tom's eyes watched your fingers tracing the buttons of his shirt; steadily wandering lower as he was swallowing hard. "Darling, w-what... what are you- Woah!" Tom had clearly anticipated that your hand would land at a place where he had often imagined it to be late at night, when he was all alone at home. But it didn't. You gave his belt a soft tug, but then moved your hand over his thigh and down to where the lever was, which allowed his seat to slide back; bringing even more space between him and the steering wheel.

Another thing the Brit hadn't seen coming - just like the next move you made.

Within the blink of an eye, you had slipped out of your high heels and elegantly swung yourself over; sitting on your former best friend's lap. It caused your dress to ride up your thighs - and Tom's eyes to widen. He literally froze in place; realising in which position you just brought yourself and him. You placed your hands on his shoulders, tugging at his suit jacket; trying to get him to shrug it off - what he did. "Y/N, w-what are you doing?" Tom knew of course very well what you were doing, but he needed to hear it. "What does it look like? I'm, uh, saving the car and riding you instead."

Tom's eyes almost popped out of his head at your bold words. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that it stirred something deep inside him. And his dress pants.

"Darling, I-I don't know if we should do this here, I-" You raised a playful eyebrow at him.

"Oh, Tommy please... Don't be so shy now. You can't tell me that you never imagined doing this..." You leaned in closer; whispering into his ear: "Me. On top of you." The Brit couldn't help the moan which slipped past his lips. "I-I did, I-," he panted out; feeling one of your hands opening his belt; metal clinking. "See? Besides, the windows are tinted. Nobody's going to see this. Plus, we are stuck anyway, so... What are you waiting for?" You asked in a hushed voice; tracing your lips down his pulse point. "Touch me."

Another breathy moan escaped Tom's lips; big hands flying up to grab your bare thighs and working on slipping your dress even higher up your hips. His warm, slightly sweaty palms sent a shiver down your spine; nerve ends sizzling with desire.

"I-I've wanted this for so long, now, darling." Tom whispered; pressing his forehead against yours. "And now that I can finally have it - you... It's so surreal and- Oh fuck..." Tom's hands started to tremble; eyebrows slanting and mouth forming into a perfect 'o' as you lowered yourself on him. Only your lips messily entangling themselves with his seemed to bring him out of his haze.

"I love you, Tommy. I love you. I always have," you whimpered; body jolting with love and pleasure. His soft beard scratched the skin of your cheek, as he buried his head in the crook of your neck; lips marking you as his.

"I love you, too, darling. With all my heart. I'm yours." He lifted his head once more; glassy blue eyes gazing deeply into your soul. "Now let me love you. Let me make love to you." You smiled deliriously and raked your fingers through his long, blonde-brown curls. "I beg you to, Tommy."

And when he started to move, the world around you faded. All you could think and feel was Tom.

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston au #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader smut #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fic

[vbecker10]

Idk... these remind me of the stages of doing a home improvement project lol

Got the paint and all the stuff you need...

Starting off strong...

Examining your handy work...

Realizing it looks awful and you should have hired a professional...

Giving up and taking a nap...

Just me? Lol

#tom hiddleston #hiddlestoners #tom hiddleston characters #twhiddleston #hiddlesarmy #high rise #high rise apartments #tom hiddleston high rise #robert laing #laing #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fic #random thoughts

[superficialdomina]

Missed connection Part 3

Summary: A drink, some smut, and a goodbye.

Part 1

Part 2

Warnings: RPF. 18+; smut. PIV, unprotected. Ethical-ish non-monogamy/infidelity. Mentions of alcohol. Language.

AN: Thank you all for waiting. It's so good to be writing again! This is the genuine final chapter. Promise.

As for part 2, this story is happening in a fictional AU where Tom is single, available and a little bit lonely - not his actual, and obviously joyful and satisfying, real life.

Word count: 5.1k (sorry...)

“Whoa.” The word fell from your mouth with a slow exhale, as you took in the beautiful, ancient building in front of you. The Palazzo Intimo. The Intimate Palace.

You glanced nervously down at the elegant, spidery writing on your own business card; needlessly, since you’d memorised the words casually scrawled there. Palazzo Intimo. 10pm.

*****

“I hope we’re not done,” you had murmured, fingertips seeking to pull him close. But even as he had leant in to kiss you softly, you’d felt his body pull away. Confused, you’d lifted your eyes to his face, where sweet concern was etched across a sad smile. …Wh…What?

He had bitten his lower lip, which still glistened with your body’s wetness. “I… I can’t stay, I’m afraid.” You had felt the glow of orgasm begin to fade like the heat of his body where he had moved away. “I’m sorry.”

Wait, what?

“I am… supposed to be somewhere,” he’d continued over your silent perplexion. “I’m already quite late -” so what’s another twenty minutes!? “- And I’d hate to - to rush away... Afterwards.”

Oh.

He had stood then, and, a sense of humiliation rising, you’d tried to straighten your tousled clothing to cover your naked lower half. But he’d laughed affectionately, drawn the loose edge of the bedcovers over you, and picked up the pen on your nightstand. A pile of your business cards, carelessly strewn after the final conference session, lay scattered there; he took one, and wrote in the small space above your name.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” He’d asked as he scribbled.

“I-" Tomorrow? "Yes,” you’d managed, breath coming a little fast, still not sure what was happening.

“Meet me,” he’d said, pinning the card back on the nightstand under your pen. His gaze held yours. “Please.”

You wanted to protest; this line was too fine for your clumsy feet. But he had smiled down at you - dazzlingly, beautifully, reassuringly. And so you’d nodded, and he’d kissed you again, and delicately brushed your face with his long, fine fingers. “Tomorrow, then,” he’d murmured.

You had watched him gracefully descend the mezzanine stairs to your kitchen. Watched him retrieve his discarded shirt from your floor, and his still-damp hoodie from the back of your chair. Turning the door handle, he'd looked back up to you, lying still on your barely-mussed sheets, and given you the tiniest wink. Then he was gone, and you were alone in the echoing silence, your skin still tingling from his touch.

He hadn't even taken his shoes off.

*****

Of course, you’d Googled the Palazzo Intimo immediately. "Padua's most romantic hotel". “Dignified, spacious and charming.” “Allegorical frescoes worthy of the Sistine chapel.” A grand, elegant building worthy of a grand, elegant man. A long way, metaphorically, from a tiny apartment above a bustling café.

And yet not, apparently, a long way in reality. The walk across the Old Town had been surprisingly short; you were a few minutes early. Which was fortunate, as your feet seemed to need a moment before they could carry you through the ornate front doors.

Now what? You berated yourself sternly. What’s the rest of your plan? Just walk up to the front desk and ask for him?

The night city was abuzz with energy and noise. Bright street lights illuminated the aged cobblestones, where throngs of pedestrians and bicycles maneuvered by one another in polite mayhem. Music spilling from several open-air restaurants mingled with chatter in a tuneless, though not-unpleasant, mess. The confusion made it hard to think.

It was one thing to invite him to your apartment on a whim, or to silently accept the pleasure he offered in the surreal heat of the moment. But this - arranging to meet him at his hotel room, knowing fully what you intended to do there. This was… deliberate.

Why was it bothering you so much? I am not breaking the rules! you repeated to yourself for the hundredth time.

But you remembered his vulnerability as he’d read you an obscure Ursula Le Guinn passage in a still, quiet train carriage; remembered the longing you’d felt after he’d left your apartment, which was heavier than just residual arousal. You caught sight of your reflection in one of the Palazzo’s large, dark windows, remembering how long you'd spent getting ready to come here. Am I?

The ancient bells of San Antonio’s church began to peel across the city. 10pm. Now or never. You stepped across the precipice into the dark and quiet of the Palazzo.

As you did so, you realised that you still didn’t have an answer to your earlier quandary. What DO I do next? He hadn’t given you a room number, and even if he had, you doubted you could simply walk up to his door. Surely you couldn't just ask at reception? They would laugh you out of the building.

Or maybe they wouldn't, a venomous voice whispered in your mind. Maybe he'd had "visitors" every night he'd been here.

Once again, you spotted him before he saw you, although this time you wondered if he had orchestrated it thus. His long, lean frame leant casually against the far wall, hands in pockets, face shadowed in the romantically low light. You stared at him, warmth humming between your thighs, lips parted shamelessly.

He was - there was no other way to describe it - dressed up. His well-tailored suit pants fit tight to his sculpted lower body. One foot, clad in a dark leather dress shoe, rested lightly against the wall; even at this distance, the solid outline of the quadriceps of his supporting leg was clearly visible through the fabric. His crisp, white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, exposing the deep dip of his jugular notch, with sleeves oh-so-casually rolled up to his elbows revealing long, sinewy forearms. Perfectly tousled curls tumbled gracefully across his forehead, and - oh Gods, it was kryptonite - grey reading glasses elegantly rested on his long, straight nose, as he gazed at the floor, lost in thought.

He was utterly, unbearably, beautiful.

Your heart raced as feelings of insecurity blossomed within you. The Palazzo seemed anything but intimate; the high ceiling and dark lighting felt like a cave, and you were small and insignificant in its ancient grandeur. You felt decidedly underdressed in your simple cotton dress and flat sandals. His shoes probably cost more than my entire outfit, that toxic voice whispered again. He hasn't seen me yet. I could still leave...

Maybe he heard your thudding heartbeat, or the snaking voice in your mind. Maybe he had simply heard the peeling of the bells across the city - whatever the cause, he raised his eyes, catching you on the verge of fleeing. He straightened, removing his hands from his pockets, and gracefully strode towards you.

"Hello," he smiled softly as he reached you. "I'm so glad you've come."

His affect was as different to the last time you had seen him as his outfit; decorous, controlled, composed, like a persona he'd put on as he'd buttoned his shirt. You searched his face for a hint of the wildly amorous man who had placed his hands on your hips in your small kitchen. He placed a gentlemanly hand on your upper arm, and leaned in to chastely kiss your cheek. As though his fingers had never been inside me, you thought.

You swallowed, searching for your voice. "Hi, Tom," you stammered, feeling your skin rise in goosebumps at his touch. His smile was easy, but genuine; the peek of his teeth below his top lip made your fizzing nerves begin to fade, replaced by a different low-belly effervescence. He reflexively pushed his glasses up his nose, and your breath caught.

Deliberate.

"Will you join me for a drink?" His hand still on your arm, he indicated a low archway to your left, beyond which you saw a carpeted staircase. You hesitated, confused. A drink? Aren't we here to... to...

"I - sure," you faltered again. He stepped back, his beautiful forearm gesturing you ahead, and you climbed the narrow stairs to a classic Paduan balcony overlooking the thronging street. A small table and chairs sat nestled between flower boxes and wooden shutters. The sounds of music and chatter rose to reach you, but you noted that you were out of the eyeline of anyone in the street itself. Unexpectedly secluded, you thought, with a touch of sarcasm. How romantic.

Angst found you again. This was not what you had anticipated. A quiet knock on a hotel door, whisked into his room before you could be seen; a quick fuck in expensive bed sheets and a hasty, anonymous exit. That was what this was meant to be - wasn't it? You weren't sure exactly what you had expected, you admitted to yourself, but it wasn't this. It wasn't a date.

Eying the flimsy balustrade, you considered how far it was to the cobblestones below, still wondering maniacally if you should attempt an escape.

"Il tuo solito, signore?" A stranger's voice in the open doorway you made you jump. It was a young man dressed all in black, not a hair out of place. Tom was clearly expecting him.

"Si, per favore, Marco," he said, familiarly. The young man turned to you expectantly.

"Ah - aperol spritz, per favore," you added, guessing at his unspoken question and grateful to the staff at your café for their daily language lessons. The waiter nodded politely, and vanished down the dark staircase, leaving the two of you alone. Tom gestured to the chair closest to you, and you nervously perched on the edge of it.

In contrast to your fluttering fears, Tom seemed to radiate confidence. He sat back deep in the wrought iron chair, almost slouching, elbows resting comfortably on its arms, his thighs splayed wide. His face displayed a knowing smile that was just-too-polite to be a smirk, eyes glinting. Player, you thought derisively; 'a perpetual escapee from emotional entanglement', you had once heard him describe himself. And yet, his comfort made you comfortable; in his easy presence, you felt your self relaxing. Maybe he was a player - but tonight he was playing you, and that was oddly exciting.

He was watching you with that familiar, intense gaze. "You look beautiful," he murmured, and you were surprised at how well his voice carried over the noise below; the balcony felt all the more intimate. You felt your cheeks heat, but you held his gaze. Don't look away, you thought. You were not normally coquettish with lovers, and you were determined to be authentic now.

"Thank you," you replied, and your voice was stronger than you expected. "You - you do, too." Ugh. Awkward. You swallowed, willing casual conversation to come to you but finding yourself without the words. Authenticity or not, you still seemed to have nothing to say to him.

Of course, in his easy, cleverly comfortable way, he came to your rescue again.

“Did you finish your book?” he asked you, his hand resting lightly on his chin. You pictured your Bernard Cornwell novel resting on your nightstand, bookmark triumphantly discarded beside it. Had he noticed it there, as he scribbled his invitation on your card?

“I did,” you smiled, not unmoved that he had remembered.

“And? Did you enjoy it any more by the end?”

“I…” You paused, reflecting before you answered. “I did, I think. Some of my favourite characters from earlier in the series returned, and… I guess their motivations became more… real. It was a good ending. I’m glad I stuck it out.”

As you spoke, he absently traced his fingers over his lips, then trailed them down his throat and over his collarbone. You watched, a little transfixed. He was so tactile. You wondered which part of him was enjoying the sensation more - the skin of his face and neck, or the pads of his fingers?

"What will you read next, now that you've finished it?"

"I don't know," you answered truthfully, surprised. "I didn't bring anything else with me. I guess I'll have to pick up something rubbish at the airport for the flight home."

He gave a look of distaste, but was interrupted before he could speak again. The young man - Marco - reappeared, placing a wine glass of blood-orange aperol in front of you, and a squat-sided tumbler before Tom. His glass contained three or four fingers of liquid; from the pale amber colour, you suspected whiskey and water.

"Grazie," you both said in unison; you butchered the pronunciation, while Tom rolled his "r" delightfully, prompting a vivid, unanticipated memory of your body thrashing wildly under his tongue. You felt your cheeks warm again, and the pleasant hum that had lain purring quietly between your legs rose to a gentle roar.

"I have been thinking about your question," Tom began tentatively as the young waiter left, sipping his drink and placing it back on the table.

You were puzzled. Did I ask a question?

"Maybe it wasn't a question," he continued, as though he had heard your thoughts. "But you made me wonder about my - my favourite words. Ever written." He seductively bit his lower lip. Whore, you thought lustily, arousal thudding through your most sensitive places.

But again, you found yourself surprised and touched that he had remembered your conversation.

"It was something you said," he rushed on, looking down at his hands, "about... About accepting our imperfections, that made me... It reminded me of something I read a long time ago that still resonated with me." His rambling was charming, delightful. Designed, no doubt, to enrapture you, and succeeding. He looked up at you, as though waiting for confirmation.

"Spit it out!" You laughed. "I'm on the edge of my seat."

He grinned, took another drink, and leaned back, gazing up at the night sky, and quoted.

"All the variety, all the charm, all the beauty of life, is made up of light and shadow."

You were thrown; the words were unfamiliar to you. He was looking at you again, willing you to respond, until your hesitation expanded uncomfortably between you.

"Tolstoy," he added, in explanation.

You shook your head, laughing at his surprised look. "Sorry," you added.

He stared at you, bemused. "You can quote The Dispossessed, but you've not read Anna Karenina?" You shook your head again. His disappointment was palpable.

"So tell me," you urged him, still chuckling. "What does it mean? Light and darkness... Like yin and yang? Two sides to every coin, all things opposite but... but complimentary?"

He smiled devilishly, disappointment fading, and you felt that you had fallen into some trap he had set - or at least, predicted. It was exhilarating.

"Not light and darkness," he corrected, leaning forward again with palms pressed eagerly into the table, eyes bright. "Light and shadow."

"I don't-"

"It is not simply that all things have equal and opposite parts." In his excitement to explain, he interrupted you. You didn't mind - there was such a thrill in watching him lose control. "It is that all things have shadow - all things create shadow." He watched you carefully for a reaction as you tried to understand his meaning. "The sun shines on me, and I cast a shadow - and that shadow is a result of my existence. Is proof of my existence."

There was so much passion in his voice as it rose and fell that he was almost singing as he spoke. Dramatist. But you thought you understood. "I think I see. Our darknesses - shadows - are not just an integral part of us, but exemplify our... our..." You hesitated, and he waited for you to finish your thought, eyes alight. "Our humanity."

"Yes!" he said eagerly. "Sorrow, shame, ego - these are the shadows that make us human. They are evidence of our light."

He sat back, smiling to himself, and picked up his glass again, following the slosh of the amber liquid as he swirled it vaguely. It was hypnotic, watching him, momentarily lost in thought. What are your shadows, Tom? you wondered into the silence between you. All dirt and rocks...

"Ah - a beautiful choice," you muttered awkwardly, realising you were staring. Then you laughed again as an idea came to you. "I really thought you were going to quote something from Shakespeare."

"Why?" he half-laughed, playfully. Then he paused, and you watched a mood transition across his face; playful turned to puzzled, then solemn. You felt the energy between you shift rapidly, but were unsure as to its direction. When he spoke, he did so quietly. "Why would you think that?"

Something in his tone gave you warning. Did I say something wrong? "I..." You swallowed, completely lost. "I... I'd just heard - heard you..." Your words froze in your throat as you realised that this was the first time since you'd met in the train carriage that either of you had alluded to... to his fame.

"I'm sorry," you offered. "I don't understand what... what I've said."

He met your eyes again, replacing his glass on the table with a shaky clink.

"No - no, it's me who should be sorry." He forced a small laugh. "I just... I forgot, briefly, who I was."

At last, understanding washed over you. All his veiled hints of sadness and regret. Of longing for something that had long ago been lost.

"It's a strange thing - fame," he continued hollowly, looking down at his hands. You had the sense that you were hearing words long thought, but spoken aloud for the first time. "There's a guilty pleasure in it, in being known. Being... adored. It's - it's addictive." You held your breath, fearful of interrupting his stream of thought. "But it's - hard, too. Keeping your head down. Remaining aloof. Pretending not to hear your name called in the street. It's almost like the more people say your name, the less you're... you're... there. The less I'm there."

He raised his face to you again. His smile was so deeply sorrowful that your heart broke for him. "For a moment, I felt... here."

You wanted to speak - to reassure him, to comfort him - but your voice remained firmly locked in your chest. What could you possibly say? You are here. I see you.

"The pathetic thing is," he said softly, his pretty, pale eyes full of self-mockery, "if I had the chance to walk away tomorrow - to disappear into obscurity - I'm not even sure I would take it."

His manner was so sincere and undefended, you felt an inordinate urge to... protect him. The hissing inner voice sent you an admonition: these waters are dangerously deep. You're getting swept away in the tide.

But he seemed to have reached a catharsis; having said the words, he seemed... lighter. Finally, you found what you wanted to say.

"Is that pathetic?" you asked. "It sounds... Well, human, to me. To regret something, resent it even, but still be unwilling to let it go. Needs are complicated things." His features began to relax; you pressed the small advantage. "It's not all bad," you added, gently flirtatious. "For the next twenty years, you get to be a generation's answer to the question, 'Who was your first celebrity crush?'."

He chuckled, blushing; stepping back from an invisible brink. Joining in your game, he raised his eyebrows questioningly.

"Keanu - in The Matrix," you grinned. He pursed his lips, pretending to appraise your answer. "Go on then," you prompted.

"Christina Ricci," he laughed, then paused thoughtfully. "Or maybe Anna Kournikova".

That tracks, you thought, affectionately imagining him as an excitable teenager, roaming the outside courts at Wimbledon. How endearing.

As rapidly as it had descended, his mood lifted again. And something else had returned - something that had been absent since he'd kissed your cheek under the somber call of the San Antonio bells.

Swagger.

He downed the last of his whiskey, replacing the glass on the table - confidently, this time - then tucked his chin, so that he looked at you provocatively through the small gap between the rim of his glasses and his striking brow. His blue gaze was electric.

"Come with me," he said, rising from the table.

He led this time, not waiting to see if you would follow as he strode quickly back down the narrow staircase and across the cavernous Palazzo entrance room. Somewhere in the journey he had reached back and taken your hand, and you let him pull you along through the ancient corridors. If you had briefly forgotten the arousal coursing through you with his show of vulnerability, it screamed for attention again now; reignited by his pace and determination as his long legs left you to an ornately carved wooden door.

You saw a flash of the ceiling fresco in the semi-dark as he pulled you inside - renaissance depictions of full-figured, bare-breasted women - before his mouth was on yours, pressing you into the cool limestone wall.

He was wild and tumultuous, kissing you with a storm's urgency, the scent of him filling every heavy breath you sucked in. But he was tender, too - his long fingers tracing the skin of your arms were firm, but gentle. It was not the kiss of a stranger; not the hot-but-detached fucking you had anticipated before your arrival. It was - the word felt traitorous in your mind - affectionate.

His lips left yours and moved to your jawline, then your neck, his hands working over the rough cotton of your dress, his desperation fading into decisiveness. Your own hands were forfeit, gripping his strong, muscular hips, while the caged creature in your belly writhed, urging him onwards. Fuck, you thought, I'm going to come just from his touch.

Hands found the hem of the dress, pulling it up and over your curves, eventually tugging it from you altogether so that you stood, exposed, in nothing but simple lingerie. He stood back, and your heart began to thud hard as he appraised you hungrily.

"Am I... Is this...?" The anxious thoughts could not form a complete question before he interrupted you.

"You are exquisite," he breathed, eyes full of lust, devouring you.

When he touched you again it was slower, deliberate; the howling whirlwind of your initial kisses had passed, though what remained was no less powerful. He guided you through the open-plan apartment like it was a dance; you felt drunk on the thrill of him, and could only trust where he was taking you.

Eventually you tumbled backwards onto his bed, and he stepped back again - but this time it felt almost exhibitionistic on his part, as though he were giving you the opportunity to appraise him. You lifted your torso, resting on your elbows, staring. He kept his eyes on yours as he began to remove his once-crisp, white, shirt, now untucked and disheveled, then undid the buckle of the leather belt at his waist. Elegantly stepping out of his pants, he gave you a small, self-conscious grin.

"May I?" he asked politely.

You gave him what you hoped was a look of playful exasperation, but you were thrumming with exhilaration as he brought his perfect, naked body close to you; ran his soft hands over your curves; looped his fingers in the trim of your panties, slipping them from your skin. You pulled him close, letting your own fingertips trace the ropes of long, lean muscle of his torso as your lips met again.

He let his hands drift to your sex, where arousal had been pooling for hours; he stroked you, hot and wet, easing you apart, his clever fingers deftly playing the strings of your body. You gasped openly as pleasure and desire raged within you, loving his teasing, desperate for more. He gave it, generously, circling and massaging and dipping and stroking, and the precipice of orgasm loomed ahead of you, waiting for you to crash through. Not yet, you begged your body.

Your hands stroked his neck, his collarbone, mimicking the way he had run his fingers over his own skin earlier. Impatiently, you sought and found his hard cock, curving gloriously up towards you; you wrapped your hand around him, and he moaned wantonly into your mouth at your touch. Your breath caught as you noted his girth; your fingers did not meet around him. You moved, palm sliding along his satin-smooth length, as he involuntarily thrust against you; as desperate for release as I am, you thought.

With an abrupt growl, he rolled atop you, pinning you under his broad chest, intertwining his long legs with yours and using the torque to widen your hips. His face was so close that you could see the flecks in his irises; feel the moist breath from his parted lips. His hard length pressed into the crease of your thigh

"Is this alright?" he murmured, intently watching your face for approval. At your nod, he growled again, more ragged this time, and used his hands to guide himself to you. You felt his wide tip nudge at your entrance; you fought the urge to close your eyes as he slid inside you, sank into you, until he bottomed out deep in your channel. Every throbbing inch of him was bliss.

You could sense his urgency returning, and you hungrily pressed your mouth to his as he began to rock inside you. You groaned into his mouth, wordlessly begging him to fuck you harder, faster. He read your body like poetry.

"Please don't stop," you moaned sluttishly, not caring about propriety, lost now to anything but the pleasure of him.

"T--aagh, touch yourself," he grunted, and you let your fingertips toy through your slick folds to massage your clit. You were both losing control now, your bodies a mass of messy thrusts and heady groans as you fell towards release together. He threw his head back, eyes closed; but you pulled him back to you.

"Look at me," you half-begged, half-demanded. His eyes met yours, and he gave a sharp intake of breath.

With a guttural moan and a rush of pleasure, you came. You felt your body give up a fresh gush of wetness, and the flush of orgasm seemed to heat your blood to the tips of your toes. You slumped backwards onto his bed, but didn't take your eyes from him.

His thrusts became messy; eyes closed, mouth agape, filthy grunts falling from his mouth as he chased his own release above you.

"Y-yes. Fuck, yes-"

He came with a long cry, spilling his hot seed into you, his fingers gripping the bedsheet beside you, his face twisted in the agony of pleasure. He chest heaved as he breathed heavily into the afterglow, eyes still closed, hand seeking yours and gripping tightly when your fingers met.

When he eventually opened his eyes, they were full of boyish charm again. He grinned at you, slowly pulling his body off of yours.

"Will you stay?" he asked, fingers still entwined with yours.

"I..." you hesitated. Don't catch feelings. "If that's alright," you said, meekly.

He laughed, his contentment clear, and pulled your body close to his.

*****

You awoke to shafts of light penetrating the heavy bedroom curtains, and the sound of running water splashing off bathroom tile. Morning. You rose, finding your clothes in their discarded piles and pulling them on.

The water stopped, and after a moment, he appeared in the bedroom door, a lush white towel wrapped around him. His smile was as breathtaking as it had ever been

You took a deep, steadying breath.

"Good morning," he grinned at you. You could only offer a smile in reply; he began to re-dress while you watched, perched on the edge of his bed.

It would be so easy, you thought with regret, to fall for him.

"I wanted to ask you," he added, "when are you flying home?"

"Ah - tomorrow," you managed, "morning. Out of Venice."

He turned back to you, delighted. He was dressed now, and sat on the bed to put his shoes on. "Will you have dinner with me tonight?" he asked excitedly. "There is an operatic production of A Midsummer Nights' Dream at the Teatro del Veneto. We could dine on the waterfront beforehand-"

"Tom," you interrupted him quietly, and his sweet face fell at your tone. "I- I can't..." You willed words to come to you quickly - the look on his face was unbearable. "I - My husband and I - we have an... an arrangement. It works, but only if we follow the rules." He had composed his face into a polite smile; you stumbled on. "I - I'm afraid if I spend any more time with you, I will come dangerously close to... to breaking them."

He nodded, but didn't speak. Was he waiting for you to continue? There didn't seem to be much else to say.

It would be so easy...

"I - I'm sorry. I wish... I could..."

"Stop," he cut you off, smiling at you sadly. "You have nothing to apologise for."

Shoe laces tied, he stood.

"There is breakfast on the table; please stay as long as you need." He walked to the door, then turned to you, still smiling politely. "Thank you for your company, Y/N. It has been a pleasure."

You lifted your chin and swallowed. "Likewise," you said softly.

The door clicked behind him.

*****

The sun had barely risen on your last morning in Padua. You opened the little apartment mailbox to leave your AirBnB key, as instructed, and were surprised to find a small package with your name on it. You tentatively pulled it out. Inside was a gently used book, and a short note scrawled in now-familiar, spidery letters.

I hope this means you can avoid the airport garbage. T.

You turned the book over to read the cover; Tolstoy's Anna Karenina. You swallowed, touched, and not altogether surprised by the prickling in your eyes.

Finally, you turned back to the street, ready for one last walk through the barely-awake city to the train station. It would be a long journey home.

Italian phrases:

Il tuo solito, signore - your usual, sir?

Si, per favore, Marco - yes, please, Marco.

Grazie - thank you.

Tagging some people who enjoyed the first two parts:

@acidcasualties @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokischambermaid @peaches1958 @thomase1 @tomlugirl @vickie5446 @vbecker10 @chantsdemarins @lokixryss @wolfsmom1 @laprofesoratinacita @cabingrlandrandomcrap @hyperlokilover @siriusly--gay @dangertoozmanykids101 @villainousshakespeare @huntress-artemiss @viv-annelore @so-easy-to-love-me @ladymischief11 @kats72 @chokemedaddyloki @cerynas @lokisfavtoy @sititran @faesimps

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston smut

[stupidthoughtsinwriting]

T. Hiddleston and Co. Collection

Basically the fic log of our dear mister Hiddleston and his characters

Tom Hiddleston

Series

One shots

Loki

Series and Collections

Try again -She left years ago for the sake of their child and herself but when he needs her, she comes in a heartbeat. The only problem is could he forgive her for leaving and could they try again?

His Home (Collection) -Set after the blip, here is a series of fics on what's happened in Loki's home...

Oneshots and Short stuffs

Don't leave me... I'll stay -After an argument causes a rift between Loki and Y/N, the day is spent ignoring the other until Y/N decides to spend the night away from Loki.

Late night

It's not your fault

#loki #tom hiddleston #marvel #loki odinson #loki god of mischief #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki imagine #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston imagines #loki fic #loki angst #loki fanfction #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fics #loki friggason #loki hurt/comfort #loki laufesyon x reader #loki laufeyson angst #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson x reader #loki marvel #loki mcu #loki needs a hug

[smolvenger]

How To Fake Date A Spy (Jonathan Pine x fem! Reader). Part 1

Summary: When you joined your sister, Jed, for a lovely summer in Spain, you wanted to enjoy yourself. Instead, you have to deal with numerous men of Roper's business having a gross interest in you for more than small talk. Going to Roper for help, he offers an idea- pretending to be the date of his newest friend. A handsome sous-chef known as Thomas Quince. Little do you know yet, the man's real name is Jonathan Pine and he is on a mission to take Roper down...

Word Count:5K

Chapter Warnings: Sexual harassment (not our boy, Pine). Discussions of suicidal intentions- if you or a loved one have thoughts, please please PLEASE reach out, call a hotline, tell someone you need help, and get help right away and this I hope is portrayed well and healthy and hopeful in this chapter. Some Fix-It-Fic-ness (Poor Elena deserved better. Hmmm, interesting of Le Carre to have the not-white female characters killed off to further the male characters' storylines. Guess what? We're fixing that crap. At least for Elena). Mentions of murder and domestic abuse. Reader being thirsty, but no actual smut.

Comments, reblogs, dms, and asks about my work are always appreciated!

A/N: You can decide if you’re a sister by adoption or by birth and I want to leave that open ended in the fic to make this an inclusive x reader fic. Shout out to @evelyn-kingsley for suggesting this idea in the first place! This fic wouldn't exist without you! :)

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over ) @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

You screamed as the robber grabbed the boy and pulled out a gun to the child’s forehead.

“Nobody move! Nobody move!” the robber yelled.

There were more screams behind you and as people shot up, you heard plates clatter on the floor. Your heart was racing a mile a minute. It seemed all was well one minute- enjoying a seaside restaurant with your sister and some friends. Paid by the man she was in an arrangement with- Roper. Drinking wine and dancing and laughing. Little Danny playing games on his dad’s phone. A phone with worldwide secrets that also conveniently housed Candy Crush.  

 Then like a flip of a coin, a robber grabbed Danny and pulled him over to sit on a chair, moving the gun between pointing at the boy or your party. Danny’s sobs mirrored the screams you heard rabbits made. Sounds when the creatures thought they were going to die.

Roper-with an eerie calm-spoke to the robber. Offering the robber anything he wanted.

“Jewelry! Wallets!” the robber demanded.

With shaking hands, you took off the earrings. Your sister bought them for you on a shopping trip last week.  Being mistress to Roper, Jed could afford to spoil you with gifts however she wanted. You then removed your ring and your necklace. It was harder with the shaking, but you dropped them in. You saw Jed doing the same next to you, her jaw quivering. Then you took your wallet and all of you put your items in a bowl. Everyone did- an offering to an angry god demanding a sacrifice.

“That’s shit! Where’s the real money? Where’s the rest?” the robber asked, waving the gun at each of you.

Roper promised him 10 thousand dollars in fifteen minutes. As long as Danny was returned. The robber began to back away, still holding Danny.

“We’ll take the boy! Until we have the money! Everyone on the ground!” he threatened.

Jed offered herself in exchange. Out of gut instinct you pulled at her arm, tears in your eyes. Bringing her back.

The Robber pointed the gun at each of you and your body shot, seeing your imminent death in its Barrell. There was silence from all of you- the about-to-be-dead.

“On the ground or I’ll shoot!” he yelled.

All of you went to the ground.  You kept sobbing and so did Jed, your legs still quivering as you laid down. The robber ran off, carrying Danny. The boy’s screams could have cut you in two. You sat on the ground. The party crawled back up.

From out there, you heard yelling and a commotion. Then the screaming stopped. But there was no gunshot.

All of you ran down the steps to the stairway to enter the place. There was no robber- and Danny was safe. Danny scrambled back into his father’s arms, hugging him and crying. Even Jed leaned down to touch his arm. You had to cup your face, crying tears of relief this time. But your eyes wandered to someone else.

On the ground near him was a man in a chef’s suit, groaning in pain. His face so bloodied and hurt he was unrecognizable.

“What happened-what happened?” Jed asked.

“They ran off…he scared them…he saved me…” Danny explained.

The staff said the rescuer was a sous chef from England. Corky began examining the hero of the hour, still groaning from his broken nose and pain. Roper examined him, his blue eyes turning into a hawk gaze. Jed wrapped her long arms around Danny and let the boy cry his tears into her. You comforted him by running a hair through his head.

It was decided. They couldn’t let their hero bleed to death. He was coming with you.

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

You hardly saw the sous chef after he moved in. Not that you had time to. You had another party of Roper’s he was hosting. And it meant dealing with your least favorite thing- men. Specifically- Roper’s men.

The party itself would be okay. You were glad you kept a small book in your clutch. Your phone batter was down to 10 percent and Danny was standing by his dad. But many of the men would gather around you. Or introduce themselves. Drunk on money and power, they believed they could do everything. Like having access to you when you didn’t like them.

One fucker-you didn’t remember his name and he didn’t deserve it-approached you as you began to sip your flute of champagne. Already you could smell how he reeked of cologne to where it stank. He leaned in closer than you liked.

“Hey there-Y/N, isn’t it? You’re looking nice today?”

“Thanks.” You said curtly.

He smirked.

“I just like what I see….would you like a drink?”

“I have one, no thanks,” you said.

His eye wandered to the book sticking out of your clutch.

“Ah-What are you reading?” he asked.

“A book,” you answered.

“Hmmm…what kind of book.”

“It’s a…a…a romance book,” you answered honestly. Maybe he would be disappointed in your interest of “fluff for women” and turn around.

 “A romance book. You like that stuff?” he asked.

Already there was that hint of putting down. Slight dislike. Condescension. You took it and ran. You gave him a frown.

“Yes, I do,” you said, going around.

Then at dinner, you could feel their eyes on you. One guy- Mr. Jacobson- was enjoying his time sitting next to you a little too much. He was tall and barrel chested with a dark beard and dark hair, manspreading on his seat. You squeezed your knees tight together so they wouldn’t brush his pants. But his leaning in gave you less space to flee.

“Well-everyone has a type for someone! A type they fall for!” Caro Langbourne began, just for casual conversation.

But Mr. Jacobson turned to you with a greedy smile. You could feel the eyes on you.

“Hmmm, means you got a type, Y/N? Like us big, hairy guys?!?”

You turned next to him.

“No.”

It was quiet and the conversation went on, but he kept talking to you. More than you wanted to. There was one guy. He was closer to your age. And he wasn’t bad looking at all, not to you. But as he turned to you during dessert, having innocent talk, just in a corner alone, he suddenly, out of nowhere, asked.

“So-When will you let me stuff it in your mouth?”

You nearly dropped the plate in shock. You blinked, processing that he said what he said.

“What did you say to me?” you asked in a hiss.

He put his hands in his pockets and repeated it.

“When will you let me stuff it in your mouth. You’ve had dessert, you can take it.”

You felt like you could get sick with disgust.

“Forget it. Don’t’ you say that to me- leave me alone!” You pushed off and walked away, heels clicking furiously from the party.

You found yourself, once alone, crying a little. You wiped it off in the bathroom, redoing your makeup with a frown on your face. Why did every gathering have to be like this? The stares. The smiles. The comments- it was too much.

You were so sick of them. All these guys hitting on you like they were entitled to you. You really were sick of it. In their bright smiles and uniforms but with such disgusting words spewing from their smiling mouths.

All this finery- nice dinners. Beautiful places. Numerous Shopping splurges with your sister. Trips to every country. Restaurants and clothes that would cost ordinary people a fortune. But the price- to be harassed daily by these dicks at every event and more. It was exhausting. Hell, the way Caro’s husband sometimes leered at you made you feel sick to your stomach. And the man brought his kids!

Besides, you didn’t even want to be in a relationship. How could you trust them-trust anyone? There were lots of hot guys out there who seemed perfectly nice. But they only seemed that way. Was it worth being abused- be it with a man beating you, or saying something cruel, or worse? Or being cheated on-giving all your heart and love to a guy only for him to find someone hotter, better, and to betray you because you were not good enough? Or the pain, the drama, the hurt of trust, the heartache? No, there was no one out there who was worth it. You didn’t want to fall in love, you didn’t want to get hurt. Even Jed and Roper were just a business arrangement. Despite the smiles and PDA, it was no different than Corky’s agreement. A loveless job.

You had to call it a night.

But as you were walking, you passed by a door. You remembered it-it was where the heroic sous-chef was staying in that room.  You hadn’t been in it. You hadn’t even seen him since then-only once as they were tending to him with bandages and towels over his bleeding face when he was helped in here.

You had to go in and visit. That was a better end to the night. This was Danny’s savior, after all. You had to let him know how grateful you were. You knocked on the door.

“Come in,” a bright, baritone voice. English accent. Proper. Refined. Elegant, even.  

You opened the door a little, and took a first step in.

“Hello the-“

Your voice stopped as did your steps. You almost did not recognize him. There wasn’t blood all over his face. Only a bruise over his eye and a bandage over his nose.

But even so, he was one of the handsomest men you had ever laid eyes on.

His eyes were blue, and his hair was an in between of dirty blonde and red. He had cheekbones that could cut glass and the shirt covered his broad chest, slim waist, and bulging biceps. You felt the wind knock out of you, the words hanging in the air, until you regained yourself. You took another step in and continued.

“Hello there-just me…”

He turned up.

“You weren’t interrupting anything.”

You began to grab your arm. He was so attractive you wanted to shy away-flee away like Snow White from the Prince. But you forced yourself there.

“I don’t think we’ve introduced each other since…since that night. I’m Y/N. Jed’s sister. I help look after Danny.”

He looked up, eyes meeting yours.

“I just wanted to…to…thank you. For what you did.”

He gave you a smile.

“You’re welcome. What’s your name?”

You gave him your name.

“Lovely. I’m Thomas-Thomas Quince.”

“Do you need anything?”

“No- I’m fine for now.”

“Let us know, okay Thomas?”

“I will, Y/N.”

You could have come at how he said your name, but you held yourself together.

“Okay, have a good night, Thomas.”

“You too, Y/N.”

 Then you closed the door. But you realized you were still smiling, feeling very warm and tingly. Without question, this was a better ending to the night.

There was going to be another of Roper’s male colleagues coming over to stay with you. But he didn’t have a history of saying gross things to you. Not even with his wife, Lucia, and kid traveling with him. Juan or “Apo” was joining you with his wife and their teenage daughter, Elena.

Their car arrived the next day. You were squinting from the Spanish sun. Roper smiled as all of you waited just outside the penthouse when the driver opened the door. Out popped Apo, Lucia, and Elena. The group was all smiles and handshakes and hugs with Roper.

That is, except Elena. Her eyes were big, and she wore a shining, diamond necklace over her Chanel dress, but she didn’t smile. She was slumped as she stood. When Roper hugged her in greeting, she froze, only patting his back stiffly out of politeness. She seemed to shrink within herself. Even when Danny went up and said hi, showing off his new book about ocean creatures, she only nodded in response.

Roper put his hands on his hips, keeping a toothy grin at her.

“Ah! Well-I bet you’re sick of annoying little boys already, Elena! But don’t worry-you’re a big girl now! And you can join the big girls-like Y/N, here!” he said, with a grand sweep towards you.

As housekeepers hauled their luggage inside, Elena turned to her dad.

“Papi…can I go walk, please? I’d like to explore the city,” she asked.

Apo turned to her, reeling off praise to her.

“Oh! My little girl! Already so adventurous! Here-don’t go alone. Have this…this…Y/N! Walk with my Elena, will you?” he offered.

“Oh, sure thing!” you replied.

Though you hadn’t really talked to her, it would be a nice change from staying by the house all day. And she looked like she could get out. Something was up and her father was oblivious to it.

Both of you walked about. It was the late afternoon melting into the early evening. You walked through tall buildings with laundry wires across the streets over your heads. They sloped down the hill as people walked about. Though the sun was still bright, there were more shadows across the town.

“How was traveling?” you asked.

“Okay… great even,” Elena answered.

Then there were the sounds of bells chiming the hour. You noticed a palm tree and a few restaurants.

“Are you hungry? There’s a stand for some street food. My treat.” you offered.

“I’m fine,” Elena replied.

She gestured to her necklace.

"Would you like to have this?" she asked. She dangled it in her hand, not caring if some bold pickpocket eyed it.

"Uh, no thanks-but thanks for offering!" you replied.

She turned skittishly around. Her head full of long, black hair moving with her. You paused.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

She turned to you and this time; she didn’t answer the question.

“There’s a cathedral here…I know it’s the next block over-can we go?” she asked.

“Sure thing!”

It then struck you that you were going about without guards. If she noticed a pickpocket or a stalker, you were the only one guarding her. But you walked over to where the bells chimed to enter the large cathedral.

Walking over with her, you turned and walked inside. It was infinitely cooler in the cathedral than outside. You were used to air conditioning, so the summer trips had been brutal here. You let out a sigh of releif. You did admire the elaborate paintings and design of the cathedral- its dome over your head, the numerous statuettes of saints, the golden crucifixes. And all in a building that was older than America! They definitely didn’t make most churches as pretty as this back home! Tourists wandered to snap pictures. Locals were in the pew, praying. Elena walked forward, her feet turning into stumbling. You saw she was shaking all over-as if her strength was sapping out of her. She gripped onto the pew, sitting down. Then she knelt and gripped her hands in prayer.

You went down and joined her.

“What is it, Elena?” you asked. You made sure to keep your voice low. The place made a lot of echoes from the high ceilings.

“Nothing.”

“You don’t have to lie to me. Something is up. You’re upset. Your dad is blind to it. But he isn’t here- you can tell me. Anything.”

She looked around again. Checking each person around her. Then she turned to you.

“Is no one watching us?” she asked.

“No. No one is. Not even Corky and he creeps around everywhere. Just you and me. I don’t care how messed up it is- I won’t judge.”

She began to blink tears, and then leaned her head down, beginning to cry.

“Elena…did something happen?” you asked.

She began to blubber out.

“I’m…so grateful for cathedrals. They’re peaceful. They’re quiet. Anyone can have sanctuary there….”

She turned to you.

“Sanctuary? From what? Are you in danger? Is someone threatening you?” you prodded.

“I want...I want…I want the pain to stop…I’m a burden to everyone…I’m the reason people are dead…” she confessed.

“What do you mean?” you gasped. You immediately grabbed her hand. You had an idea and it chilled you, but you asked it.

“Are you…thinking of ending your own life?”

“Yes.”

A sick, horrible feeling swept through you. Chills, dread, terror. But you prodded further. No matter how uncomfortable, it was the right thing to keep talking to her.

“Do you have a plan how?”

“Hang myself. And I was going to do it on my birthday party. Snuck out the party to my room. They wouldn’t care- it’s like it’d be better without me. Too busy congratulating each other and being fancy. I would do it- Hang myself right there…”

“Elena….oh my god…oh god….” You muttered in shock, your hand never leaving hers.

“Elena…thank you for telling me. I know things always seem bleak- it’s hard to realize that there are options out there when you feel that way…”

“Options? I was born into this family! I didn’t choose it!”

She turned to you; her voice lower. So, no one could overhear.

 You know what my dad does? He defends Roper. We’re rich. Because of Roper…Roper and his…his-his-his…acts!”

“Acts?” you repeated.

You knew Roper was head of Ironclast. That the immense money didn’t come from nowhere. But you had to find out further. She turned to you, her eyes brimming, tears falling.

“Dad’s rich protecting him. So, Roper can’t ever be caught. Roper sells bombs. And you know what he does? Drops them on villages- his own personal bombs. He treats people like toys. Cities. Full of innocent people. And anyone who opposes him or his friends or tells them no? They die. That’s why I’m even here-innocent people who are dead!”

She let in a shaky breath.

“Do you know…do you know Freddie Hamid? Did he ever appear here at Roper’s party?” she asked.

“No, I don’t. He never showed up.”

“He’s a friend of Roper’s. He’d appear with Papi and at the parties…. Freddie beats up women. And he’s a murderer.”

“A murderer?!” you hissed quietly.

Elena nodded.

“He had -a mistress. Sophie. I met her every time she came over. She…was nice. She let me pet her dog. She’d talk to me like no one ever did- like I wasn’t a princess. Like I was a person. I wanted to…to…to be like her. And there’d be bruises. On her arms. On her face. She’d say she’d fall. But it was clear-I knew it was Freddie. I knew it! But no one would believe me.  And do you know what happened to her? Sophie was Found murdered in her hotel!”

You felt a horrified chill over your body as you spoke “And Freddie or Roper killed her?”

“At least sent their men to do the job. She must have stepped out of line. That’s what happens here-you step out of line. You’re dead. I was dead anyway…and you know what-she’s just one of many.”

You swallowed. Part of your stomach got sick. But you kept listening. You put your other hand on hers.

“I was dead anyway. I thought it’d be better…die rather than get killed. Then…I left the party and ran to a cathedral instead…”

You realized there were tears in your eyes too.

“I’m glad you did, I’m glad you did, Elena…I’m glad you’re here…talking to me…”

She released one hand of hers, touching her necklace.

“You see this shit necklace? I see it and just see more dead Sophie’s-dead people! Papi says it’s the most expensive necklace in the world! And it was paid for with blood money!”

She gripped it like she could rip the necklace to shreds. But she couldn’t-her nails dug into her skin. She looked at you right in the eyes.

“Roper…he is the worst man in the world…and you’ll see that…”

It all hit you-hit all at once. You knew she was telling the truth. There was no matter of denying it. The more you thought about it, the more it made sense.

“You’re right…he is…he’s got my sister in his clutches. She was desperate. She was broke. And she…she has a baby. Mom hates her. Roper gave her an opportunity. Now she’s chained to him. A man old enough to be our dad, too. She doesn’t have a choice to leave him now. I see how unhappy she is on the inside…he is the worst man in the world. “

You smoothed her hair so you could see her face.

“I’m concerned Elena…because I care about you. I’m going to support you- however I can…” you promised.

You took her and hugged her. She let herself cry-relieved. You cried too, for her. For your sister. For yourself. For everything. You held onto her, keeping on shaking. Waiting until she was ready and let go. She turned around, seeing the crowds.

“Could we…could we walk around?” Elena asked.

“Yes…we can stay here as long as you need. I don’t have anywhere else I need to be.”

“But dinner…”

“If you don’t want to eat with Roper, we can get our own dinner,” you said.

She walked about. Elena did go to the confession booth. It wasn’t therapy but it was something. Talking in a private space with someone sworn to secrecy. Elena did talk to plenty of other people. Just talk- nothing more. Not about her emotions. She spoke to an old woman, a priest lighting a candle, and a tourist lady with a pregnant belly. It was probably good to give her space and not overhear when she did. But you never kept her out of your eyesight.

When she finished talking, you got her hands as she sat in the pew again turned to her.

“Elena…when we’re done, I’m buying you a sangria, and tapas, and ice cream. And when we get home, you’re not staying by yourself-you’re with me now. I’m staying by you-“

Elena raised her eyebrows.

“And you don’t have to pretend. You can be with me. I’ll keep you safe. You’re not going to be alone-and you’re going to live.”

You grabbed her shoulders and her eyes became big.

“You’re going to live! And if you even think about doing it-tell me! And we’ll get out of there and do something! We’ll go swimming in the ocean naked! Stuff our faces at some restaurant! Stay at this cathedral! Get fucking plastered and sing karaoke!”

“I don’t…don’t want to live off of blood money…I don’t want to live as some spoiled pet from other’s deaths!”

“But you will live…they keep saying you’re a big girl…and you’re going to have a life without living off of Roper. I could…could…could help you escape.”

“Escape?” she gasped.

“That’s the most expensive necklace in the world. That alone could buy you rent for an apartment of your own. Long enough until you get a job. And you can stop living off money used to kill people! A life all on your own! And…have you thought of getting help? Professional help? I’ll seek it out.”

“No…didn’t consider getting a therapist…but you can’t tell my parents why…”

“I will tell them you need help-that you need a counselor. And you can tell me anything! I’ll sneak you out however I can!”

She blinked. And then, slowly, she smiled. A small, present smile. The first smile you saw on her face.

“It sounds…wonderful.”

You linked her arm in yours.

“Good…we’re friends now. Best friends. And I’m not going to let anyone get you anymore…if you think you’re rebelling, if you think you’re in danger-from Roper or Freddie or yourself…I’m going to help you.”

Indeed, the Sangria, tapas, and ice cream were delicious. You even got her to giggle a litte. Once it was dark, both of you returned back to the house.

“Could you room with me?” she asked.

“Oh, of course!”

“Y/N…Danny got rescued, didn’t he…who did it?”

“Oh- his name’s Thomas!”

“Where is he?” she asked curiously.

“Resting up from his injuries!” you answered.

“Can I meet him?”

“Yeah! Sure!”

You took her to the door to Thomas’s room.

“I got to warn you- he’s really hot, too. Took everything in me not to faint when I saw him!” you whispered.

She made a small smile. You opened the door and there was Thomas, reading a book with a finished tray of dinner on his bed.

“Hello- we have a new guest. This is Elena-Elena, meet Thomas.”

She went over and greeted him. She smiled. Though then she leaned over and whispered something in his ear. Part of you was shocked by this sudden intimacy- even boldness from this teenage girl to a grown man. Hopefully, there was nothing concerning! If the man was a pedo, you would gladly kick his ass. But there was no change in his expression.

She moved into your room.  Sleeping in the next bed. As she slept, you poured through her luggage. You got rid of all long things- scarves and whatnot-so no possible nooses. You made sure there were no guns or sharp objects or knives or dangerous medications. Though it made your stomach feel sick and shiver to think of how fragile life was. How so many random little things could end a life. It made you want to vomit and even cry- but you put them all in trash bags and threw them away.

The next two days were a simple pattern. You always stayed by Elena. She would walk out, go to the cathedral, and talk to people. A priest even gave her a blessing. She even ran into the pregnant lady again and they chatted. Then you would walk back. Now that Thomas was walking around, he was hard not to ogle. And you didn’t blame Elena for sometimes going up and talking to him! You made sure there was nothing dangerous- even if she had to go to the bathroom, you joined her. You never left Elena alone. Only if you knew someone would stay by her. You began to research counselors here to immediately get her help and signed her up for one. You told her parents she was troubled, and suicidal-they had the right to know. Just not the reason why. Once a counselor was picked, you both began to research apartments here. Once she was done with school-or even before- she would move out. A poor life made with money on her own was better than one living off of Roper’s corrupt wealth. Elena was always by you- and She didn’t mind having to be the third with Danny.

But you protected both. Yet…how could you protect yourself? There were going to be more events and parties and dinners. And Roper’s men would still leer at you.

You had to tell Roper. He was the Worst Man in the World. You knew that. But no one else could stop the harassment. Knowing Elena was safe with someone, you went up and found Roper. He was on a deck, talking to Andrew. They sat on a little table under a shaded umbrella with cold drinks. For the topic you were about to bring up, it was very pleasant. They turned to you, their low voices stopping.

“Roper- I have to talk to you. Now!” you said.

“Oh, goodie!” he replied dryly.

You stepped up to them, sitting on the extra free chair. You could feel the wind and hear the nearby ocean.

“Roper…I have this problem. Your friends, all the men keep hitting on me. Please….i just need…need some help. I need you to stop them. Really!”

After scratching his grey head, Roper put his hands in his pockets where he sat. He gave a half smile. But you noticed Thomas was still frowning, but something in his face softened.

“Well-the price paid for being a pretty lady here!” Roper laughed.

“I’m serious! It’s uncomfortable!” you prodded.

He put his hands in his pockets, but he kept smiling. He then looked at Thomas and back at you. Then his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Oh-you’re lucky. Have a look at Thomas. You see-he’s getting some business done. He’s about to have a very important job with me- joining my circle. Let’s say, a little thank-you gift. He’ll need to be seen at events-parties. Gatherings. The works. But they will think he’s no one…”

“What does that have to do with me?” you asked.

“He’s got to make an impression if he’s going to succeed.  I’m getting him a new suit. A new business card.  A new wallet….and a new woman.”

Your back straightened. Roper began grinning even bigger, like an evil Cheshire cat.

“Do you mean…mean…am I…am I…in an arrangement with Thomas? Like you and Jed?” you asked.

The shock was like an ice cube in your stomach. Even if Thomas was an attractive man, were you going to have to sleep with someone you barely knew?! In fact, this was a step above- a new man in Roper’s circle, only this time it wouldn’t be words, but actions.

“No! No arrangements! I’m not asking you to sign any marriage contract, sweetheart! Just be his date for a few events! Let them think you are his!” Roper said.

You looked over at Thomas again. His own eyes were big. His jaw was slack as if he was just as surprised as you were. And he still didn’t say a word. But he did lean forward.

“Y/N…I won’t force you to do anything…don’t be scared…” he assured you.

 But Roper went on as if congratulating himself.

“But I see. You…. tolerate each other.”

Thomas folded his arms and leaned back into his chair. You saw his adams apple lowering as he swallowed. You had no words but listened. He did keep glancing at you and you at him.

“Y/N, you’re sick of being some sort of…. forbidden fruit, shall we say? Well, when you want to keep the fruit from flies- you make sure it’s taken care of.”

He turned to the handsome rescuer.

“Thomas, you want to keep your business up and running and frankly, I don’t like to see you sit inside and brood all day. Doctor says you’re good to go about now.  So let’s kill two birds with one stone, shall we?” Roper declared.

He then took his hands and placed your on each other. For a second, it did feel like a marriage ceremony.

“Be each other’s dates when we’re in public!

Thomas tightened his jaw and leaned forward in his chair. You nearly jumped up where you sat. Roper went on.

“Tell everyone you’re a couple, now. Go to a few parties and restaurants, hold arms, and smile at each other. Maybe a kiss on the cheek, sometimes! Don’t be scared- Thomas here is a knight in shining armor and he has the libido of a monk, from what I’ve gathered. You both win- Thomas, you will be a social butterfly with a contract and influence and Y/N will keep those nasty little men from drooling at her.”

You hated that he was right. It was a sad truth. Those men wouldn’t respect your word alone. But if you were taken, they’d respect your boyfriend instead. Even a fake one.

“I can tell you- you can make up a reason to break up any time you want!” Roper then finished with a playful, short wiggle of his eyebrows.

You wanted to crawl beneath a rock. Thomas kept calm, the light in his eyes did not deny his surprise.

“Well, what’ll it be? Thomas, I think there’s a bit more freedom for you to say no. But it’s Y/N here who’s a bit more anxious, shall we say. And Y/N could use the protection!”

You looked at each other. Thomas got out another hand and put it over yours in slight protection. They were warm and soft. Already at his touch you felt…safe, for lack of a better word.

“I…I…I don’t see any pros of saying no…” you began.

Roper clapped his hands together and then rubbed them in joy.

“Well, then! We’re going to have a little cocktail reception later today! All for Apo’s family coming in! Your work starts tonight- Only me on your little secret that it’s pretend-deal?”

You glanced at each other. Thomas gave a nod.

“If Y/N’s alright with it, I am.”

“Deal,” you agreed.

“Well then, time to leave the lovebirds alone!” Roper chirruped.

 He got up and turned out with a smile, leaving you alone with Thomas. You heard seagulls cawing and the shadows of the house shifted. Thomas leaned towards you but didn’t let your hands go yet.

“I’m sorry…so sorry, I’ll make it up to you. I bet you’re furious, right now,” he said.

“I’m…I’m actually not. At least not anymore. It doesn’t sound that bad,” you replied.

“But those men-they’ve been bothering you. Keeping you unsafe- haven’t they? I can do something. They don’t have to bother you anymore…” he offered. “It’s the least I can do.”

“And now with you, they won’t.”

He gave you a smile and your insides turned again.

“It’s not that bad. Just go to a few events. Hold arms. And smiles. I bet whatever you’ve done, that’s not the hardest thing you ever had to do,” you wondered.

Thomas looked back out to the sea and your gaze followed his. He let his hands go.

“No, it’s not.”

#jonathan pine #jonathan pine x reader #jonathan pine x you #jonathan pine x y/n #the night manager #the night manager fanfiction #tom hiddleston #carrie writes #tom my beloved #angst with a happy ending #fake dating #pretend dating #pretend relationship #pretend relationship fic #tom hiddleston characters #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fic #jonathan pine fanfiction #tw: suicide mention #fic it fic #fluff #angst

[raqnarokr]

Earned It

The gif and images don't belong to me. Credits goes to the respective owners.

Pairing || Loki Laufeyson x Female!Reader

Summary || After a long day of work, Loki decides to surprise you and relax you in the best and sexiest way possible.

Word count || Around 800

Warnings & Contents || 18+ content, minors dni, smut, boyfriend!Loki, rough sex, rough Loki, orgasm, dom x sub dynamic, sucking, rough oral sex, flirting, oral sex, handcuffs, face fucking, fucking, rough kissing, Loki giving presents, dom Loki, pet names (baby, darling), dirty talk, dirty thoughts

Author's note || this is for the first week of @the-slumberparty game. I decided to try and use the three words given: bouquet of flowers, diamond necklace and leather cuffs.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language, so my apologies for any misunderstandings or mistakes.

→ Loki Laufeyson Masterlist

It had been a long day of work. You were exhausted as you drove back home after your work shift ended. You just wanted to have a very relaxing bath, a good meal and cuddling with your boyfriend Loki. He had texted a message right after you were leaving your workplace asking how was your day and if you were on your way home. He is a sweetheart, always caring and worried for you and he is the best boyfriend you could have asked for.

You parked your car and after shutting the door and locking it, you started walking to the door of the house you share with Loki. You open the door, turn the light on, and see a big beautiful bouquet of flowers at the table where you usually put your keys. You open your mouth surprised. It was your favorite flower.

"Do you like them?", you turn to see your boyfriend holding a small box.

“Loki I–, this is wonderful, thank you baby”, you said as you approached him and give a sweet kiss.

“I have another thing for you", he extends you the box he was holding, “Here. I saw this in a store yesterday and I had to buy it for you". You grab the box carefully, and open it to see the most shiny and beautiful diamond necklace you've ever seen. You were amazed.

"Loki you didn't have to–", before you could speak more, he put a finger on your lips to hush you.

“Hush. Don't. You deserve it. You earned it. You always work so hard in every aspect of your life. I just wanna say thank you for everything you do. Especially everything you do for me". He answered by rubbing his thumb slowly on your soft lips. You mumble a "thank you" as Loki puts the necklace around your neck.

"It looks perfect on you darling", he smiled. "Now…you must be tired from work, I will take care of you, ok?" You nodded at his words and before you could say anything, Loki gently grabbed you in his arms. You hold yourself to him as you both go to the bathroom to take a relaxing bath together.

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#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x female reader #navy and roo sleepover #tom hiddleston #marvel #fanfiction writer #ao3 writer #loki fandom #loki smut #loki fluff #loki x you #loki x f!reader #boyfriend!loki #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fandom #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston smut #marvel fandom #marvel x female reader #marvel x you #marvel smut #marvel fluff #marvel fic #loki fic #tom hiddleston fluff #loki au #loki oneshot #boyfriend!loki x reader

[muddyorbsblr]

everybody's watching him…but he's looking at you

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: morning after 'after hours visits'

Summary: Old scars start hurting once again in the wake of your brazen and disrespectful visitor from the night before, and Tom's there to comfort you…on and off the field

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, exit stage left); unprotected p in v sex; morning sex; insecure Reader in the first scene; language; sleazy pervy teammates [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship

Dick-tionary: smut starts at "He moved his large hand" and ends at "nothing but a distant memory"

You and Tom were once again woken up by the blaring of your alarm filling the room, your boyfriend adorably groaning before tightening his arm around you in a near perfect repeat performance of yesterday morning.

"Do you have to be at the briefing room early again today?" he grumbled, his fingertips tracing up and down along your spine. "Draw names again?"

"No…" you sighed, your tone immediately making him tense up.

"Sweetheart?" He tilted your head to look up at him, his sleepy eyes gradually becoming more alert as he met your gaze. He moved your hair away from your face, tucking the stubborn front strands behind your ear. "What's wrong? You look like you haven't slept."

"I couldn't," you blurted out, wincing the second the words came out of your mouth.

"What's wrong?"

There was a lump at your throat so large you could barely choke out the words. You already felt like shit making him worry about you like this, you didn't want to make it worse.

"Please talk to me, my love," he whispered, tracing this thumb along your lower lip before bringing you closer to press a kiss to your forehead. "I won't much help if I'm flying blind. Something's eating at you and--"

"Why aren't you tired of me yet?" The words just flew out of your mouth, your voice tiny and if you were being completely honest with yourself…you were embarrassed that you'd even allowed the question to take over your thoughts to the point of sleeplessness. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have--"

Before you could say anything else, he tightened his arm around you and sat up, positioning you so that you were sitting on his thighs.

"I should have seen it," he whispered, concern filling his eyes as he traced the lines of your face. "That woman's words from last night, they got to you. Affected you in a way neither of us thought of preparing for."

"Sweetie, this isn't on you." You did your best to just wave off the conversation, placing your hands on his shoulders and trying to work at the now tense muscles. "I know we've been through this before, we don't have to do it again, I shouldn't have said any--"

"Stop." He wrapped his hands around your wrists, stopping you from what you were doing. "It doesn't matter if we've had this conversation before, if we have to, then we'll have it again. As many times as you need." He gave a quick tug and your chests were pressed together, his arms snaking around your back and offering you no escape. "I love you." He pressed a kiss to your lips. "Only you. You know that, right?"

"I do, I really do. I just--I didn't realize how bad what happened last night fucked me up until I realized I couldn't close my eyes without reliving…" You took a shaky breath, the memories of the last serious relationship you had before Tom trying to drown you. "Without reliving what happened before. I mean…if I had a nickel every time a would-be homewrecker knocked on my boyfriend's hotel room door dressed in lingerie, I'd have two nickels. And that's just the ones that I know about."

He didn't say anything in return. He just proceeded to press light kisses across your face, holding you tighter against him. "My sweet goddess," he whispered into your skin, sighing when he'd kissed his way to your lips. "No one will ever succeed in luring me away from you. If you only knew how in every moment I have to myself, all I can think about is having you with me again…" He kissed along your collarbone, repeatedly whispering your name and declarations of love with every kiss.

"God why do you even put up with me I can't be that good in bed--" You let out a yelp as he flipped your positions on the bed, your back landing on the mattress with a soft thud.

"You should know by now that nobody gets to talk about the love of my life like that. Even you, sweetheart." He latched his lips onto the spot between your neck and shoulder that had you weak and squirming beneath him. "I've known since before our first night together, before you first kissed me, that I would spend my future loving you. Regardless of how you felt for me. I resigned myself to the fact that part of me was forever yours before you ever let me share your bed."

"Sweetie…" How was it that he somehow always knew how to draw you back from that dangerous ledge your mind often went to? "How are you not sick of handling my stupid little moments yet?"

"Firstly, they're not stupid. I would never belittle your fears like this," he mumbled into your neck, working his arm underneath you to lift your hips off the bed and pull you closer as you writhed underneath him. "And secondly…I quite like handling you." You felt him smirking against your skin at the squeal that hitched at the back of your throat. "Comforting you, loving you, is not and will never be a chore for me."

As he captured your lips in another soft, slow kiss, his words from last year began to echo in the back of your mind all over again. I know you're not ready yet, but I want you to know that I am. I've always been.

The guilt sat heavy in your heart knowing that you knew exactly where he was and where he wanted to go, and yet you couldn't bring yourself to stop looking at your life in complete disbelief. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. It happened before, what was stopping the universe from making it happen again?

"I'm still scared that one day I'm gonna wake up and you've disappeared," you confessed when he pulled away, inwardly wincing at how pathetic the words made you feel. "I haven't been as afraid the last few years but last night…it brought all those fears back to the surface I mean what if I wasn't here when she showed up--"

"Then I would have told her that I'm in a happily committed relationship and I have no need for anyone else. I would have turned her away," he said, answering your unfinished question. He laid you back down flat on the bed, proceeding to kiss his way down your body, stopping when his lips hovered over your heart. "I need you to know that I'm not going anywhere. That I'm yours for as long as I live. You're the last woman I'm going to love."

You inwardly cursed at yourself for still being unable to say the words, the sentiment still refusing to move past the lump in your throat. I'm on the same page with you. I want to be yours for the rest of my life. Can I keep you?

Instead you lifted a shaky hand to weave through his short dark blond curls, finding yourself breathing a touch easier when you heard him sighing in contentment at your touch. "You should know I feel the same way. I'm no good with words but I'm getting there I'm trying I really am--"

"You don't have to say anything right now, sweetheart. When you're ready, and only when you're ready, I will be right here with you. I always will." 

He moved his large hand down the side of your body, curling around your knee to hook your leg around his waist. Your moans began to fill the room when he lowered his head and captured your nipple between his lips, licking and sucking it into a stiff peak. "What're you--"

"What time do you have to start wakeup calls?"

The words threw you in for a loop, your mind stumbling and scrambling to recall your morning schedule. Briefing room by 8, players should be in the field by 7:45, twenty to thirty minutes to run across the hotel and get to the other three players assigned to me…

"7:15," you said between heaving breaths, letting out another moan when he repeated his attentions on your other breast.

"Then we have time…" he mumbled, kissing his way back up to your lips, a devilish grin painted across his devastatingly handsome features. "We'll leave this room together and I'll go to the field, then you can go start the rest of your wakeup calls."

You started to whimper and moan against his lips as he started to roll his hips into yours, already feeling his quickly hardening member rubbing against your entrance. "Wait sweetie I still have to take a shower, change my clothes." Dammit Y/N keep your mouth shut why are you turning down morning sex, you absolute buffoon, you hissed at yourself. "I can't go to the field smelling like sex--"

"We can shower together," he answered back smoothly, stealing another kiss from you before speaking again. "And I packed a change of clothes for you for this exact scenario."

"And what scenario is that?" you asked him breathlessly, a thrill running through your whole body as he stroked your thighs before parting them the slightest bit more and settling his hips between them. Your hand slammed down on the mattress, gripping the sheets when you felt the tip of his length rubbing up and down between your folds, teasing your entrance.

"The one where I want to keep you in bed a little while longer," he rasped, starting to inch his way inside you, letting out a shuddering breath before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. "We're not leaving this room until last night's insolent visitor is nothing but a distant memory."

There must have been an angel smiling down on both you and Tom today, seeing as you were assigned to work the field again, even functioning as an assistant cameraperson as a few people from one of the crews set to shoot footage of today's Training Week events fell ill.

You were set to assist in filming the penalty shootout later on in the afternoon, handling a relatively smaller camera that would focus on the players watching rather than the players shooting for the home dressing room. For the morning, however, you were mostly guiding the photographers through the field, ensuring that they were at a safe enough distance so that the chances of them getting hit by a stray ball were significantly slimmer.

"Oi, if you stare a little harder your eyes'll burn a hole through 'er head," Jill's voice broke Tom out of his thoughts, elbowing him lightly when he stole one last glance at you before running into the playing area.

When he finally got to his teammates, his skin brisled at the discovery that they too were staring shamelessly at you, talking about the little mouth-shaped bruises that peppered your neck and chest. It didn't help that he might have added to that count this morning while he was comforting you.

"I mean if she didn't want us to look then she woulda worn something that doesn't show off her tits so much. And those hickeys are practically a red neon arrow going Look over here, gents."

Tom shut his eyes, making a conscious effort to unclench his jaw before facing them, putting on a whole performance as he smiled at them and pretended he didn't want to conveniently forget that he was a gentleman and strike them clean across their cheek. "Lads," he greeted them through gritted teeth masked as a smile. "Shall we proceed with some drills?"

"In a minute, Y/L/N is about to lean down and--No, come on sweet thing, move your hand outta the way!" The loud holler from his teammate had you snapping your head in their direction, and he could see your neck visibly tensing when you saw his teammate with hands cupped over his mouth, not even bothering to seem ashamed of the distasteful remark.

You were called over to a table by the bleachers, and finally the immature lewd comments about you seemed to stop and they all proceeded with drills for a short while. If only his teammates hadn't once again opened their mouths once they paused to take a break.

"You gents think she and her boyfriend would be opposed to a threesome? Too pretty of a thing for just one man to keep to himself."

Another one chimed in. "Downright greedy is what it is. Everyone should have the God given right to see a mouth that sinful stuffed with--"

"You know, I really don't think her boyfriend would appreciate hearing you all talk about her like she's some sentient sex doll," he finally blurted out, fighting the urge to clench his fists as his heart thundered in his chest.

"Pssh come on, I know you have your woman but even you with your A-list standards have to admit that she's a looker."

She is and she's mine, he inwardly seethed. "You can appreciate someone's beauty without being so crass about it."

"Loosen up a little, Thomas. Pretty sure her boyfriend would be proud knowing nearly every man with a pulse here wants a go at that. And it's not like he can even hear us, whoever the lucky bastard is." His teammate sighed as he looked over at that table again, making Tom hold himself back with all his strength as he watched him so brazenly adjust his shorts in front of everyone in the field. "Just one night. Lucky bastard just gotta share for one night."

Your words from last night rang loud and clear in his mind. He refused to let this go on. It was time to make things less private.

"Actually the lucky bastard can hear you all just fine," he announced loud enough for all the horny assholes to snap their heads to look at him. "And I can tell you right now neither of us are open to sharing."

"You know…I didn't see you come back to the room this morning," Simone commented with a teasing tone when she passed by the table you were sat at. "Not to be a bit of a Nosy Nancy but…if your clothes were with us, where'd you--"

"Boyfriend," you answered simply, smiling at the memory of this morning's shower with Tom in his room. And the numerous, extensive kisses you shared before parting ways for the morning. "Apparently he kept an outfit change for me in his luggage. Contingencies."

"Nice boyfriend," Joelah commented, plopping down on the seat next to you and jutting her chin toward the laptop in front of you. "Whatchu workin' on?" Before you could answer, she placed a hand on your shoulder, making you face her as she silently counted the marks on your neck and chest. "Fuckin' A you weren't kidding about your boyfriend thinkin' he's a vampire do you have more…"

"I do," you answered with a little chuckle, giving them a casual shrug. "The ones from earlier haven't even started showing yet--"

"What?!" Joelah and Simone all but shrieked, eyes wide and jaws on the ground as the former waved Douglas over. "Please tell me you know something about who the mystery man is, we still have three guesses."

The player shrugged in response. "All I know is that Jill knows and she refuses to share with the class. Just said something about if we paid enough attention we woulda figured it out by now because, and I quote, it's 'damn near impossible to miss the smitten on that man'."

"Honestly you guys Jill just basically dropped a name and asked me point blank if we were a thing," you offered, giving them a tiny smile. "So I said yes." You turned your gaze back to Joelah. "As for your earlier question, I'm doing security penetration testing on the auction site for the match-worn jerseys. Trying to make sure no one can just insert their bid without actually putting in the money and all that."

You turned back to the laptop to go through a few more test cases before sending over a checklist of some more advanced attacks for the development team to test out, as you wouldn't have enough time in the day to spare in this consult for those. From the corner of your eye you saw Joelah lean back in her chair, facing the England team.

"Ungh Don't talk about penetrating right now, babes, it's making me think things" she groaned, the frustration in her tone so potent you could practically hear her pout. "Unholy things. For a certain Player Number 6 with that obscenely tight jersey and that arse I mean just fuck me running look at the sheer power in those moves."

Without looking up from your computer you darted your eyes toward the field to sneak a fleeting glance at Tom, the stupidly tight shirt you masterminded him into stretched so tight across his back muscles you could see the definition even from this far, and his stance putting his ass and thighs on borderline sluttish display. You had to purse your lips and bite back your words before you voiced a similar sentiment, only yours mentioning that you knew exactly what power those legs held while he took you against the shower wall earlier this morning.

"Ohh Christ on a bike was I too loud?"

"I don't think so," you answered her, typing away your findings and starting on your final test. "Why what's up?"

"He's looking at the table, I'm no better than those horny asshats making crude comments at you I feel like a right knob--Wait…hold on…" She pointed at herself and you heard a faint "Me?" coming from her before she started patting your shoulder to call your attention. "Never mind he's not looking at me I think he wants to talk to you."

That was enough to make you look up completely from what you were doing, meeting your boyfriend's gaze from ten yards away. You gave him a tiny smile, raising your eyebrow in a playful questioning look. He raised his hand and gave you a little wave, prompting you to do the same.

He then started to mouth a message to you that had your breath catching in your throat with a borderline inhuman sound. I. Love. You.

"Wait hold on--?!" Simone shrieked from the side. You could hear that she and Joelah had clasped their hands together like best friends in a high school hallway, watching one of their own getting a Promposal.

"What?" you mouthed back, barely able to hold back the smile that was pulling at your mouth. What he did next had you breaking out into a full on toothy grin, joyful tears prickling at the back of your eyes.

He cupped his hands over his mouth and hollered his message again. "I said I love you, Y/N!"

You felt the air leave your lungs, unable to hold back your joy as you saw that heartbreakingly handsome face beaming at you. With cupped hands over your own mouth, you hollered back at him, "I love you, too!"

A hand clasped around yours, and Joelah looked at you with wide excited eyes. "He's--??"

"He's the boyfriend," you confirmed with a vigorous nod of your head. The other women looked at you jaws slack and silently prompting you to give up some more details. "Going on seven years."

"So he did all…" Douglas motioned at all the marks on your chest. "That??"

"And the ones that haven't started showing yet," you shot back with a cheeky wink.

"Ohh my lordy me I just realized," Joelah gasped. "Keeping things low key?! You already told us before and we were just being so fucking dense about it! You were so slick with that!" You only gave her a little shrug, giving yet another confirmation, before she jutted her chin again to point at something behind you. "Your man's coming over."

You took a breath before turning to see Tom breaking into a light jog making his way to you, immediately reaching for your hands when he got close enough. "Hello, sweetheart," he said with a heaving breath, the exhilaration radiating off him in waves as he moved his hands up your arms until he got to your shoulders. "You looked so tense, I needed to check on you." Once your shoulders relaxed he wrapped an arm around your waist, grasping your chin with his free hand, coaxing you to unclench your jaw. "Are you alright, goddess?"

"I am now," you sighed contentedly, feeling the tension steadily leaving your body with each passing second. "Thank you for checking on me."

He leaned in, brushing his nose against yours. "I'm here for you, my love. Always," he said softly, framing your face in his hands. "But now that I'm here, perhaps I could…steal just a little kiss?" He looked at you with those pleading eyes that never failed to get you weak in the knees.

"You know I can't say no to you…especially when you ask so nicely." You barely had time to take in a breath before he braced his hand behind your back, tilting his head to close the remaining inches of distance between you and press his lips to yours.

The faint sound of the ladies next to you clapping and squealing surrounded you, made louder when he splayed his hands at your upper back and your hip before dipping you. He smiled against your lips when you let out a muted squeal of your own.

Jill's voice broke through your moment, remind you both exactly where you were. "Alright adorable as you two are, get your arse back out on that field, Hiddleston. You can kiss your girlfriend all you want after today's training."

You giggled from your position, holding on to his shoulders as your upper back rested perfectly comfortably on his thigh, as he pulled away with numerous soft pecks to your lips. "I love you," he whispered against your lips, pressing one more kiss before righting both your stances.

"I love you, too," you said back, unable to wipe the smile off your face as he jogged toward the field. Once you turned to face the rest of the women at the table, the sound of a frustrated shriek and stomping on cement hit your ears. Followed by a distant 'It's not fair!!' that had you all laughing amongst yourselves before Jill called out to Douglas to get back on the field as well.

Later that night you knocked on Tom's hotel room door, a look of slight concern on your boyfriend's face as he eyed the bag in your hand before a smile graced his features, realizing why you had your luggage with you.

"My roommates kicked me out," you said, making a whole show of sticking out your bottom lip in a little pout. "Something about it being pointless to keep my things there if I don't sleep there anyways." You tried to bite back the smile as he stepped toward you, running his hand down your arm until he took the handle of your overnight bag from you. "You don't happen to have a place for me to crash, would you?"

Your giggles filled the hall as he wrapped his other arm around your waist, your feet leaving the ground as he brought you into the room, kicking the door shut. "I only have the one bed," he answered you, his voice raspy as your bag hit the floor with a soft thud. "You'd have to adhere to a few rules, however."

"And what exactly are these rules?" you shot back, failing to stifle your whimper when he laid you down on the bed, smirking down at you as he worked his hands under your shirt.

"First…no clothing." He made quick work to pull your shirt over your head before pressing his lips to your now bared stomach, sucking and biting another bruise onto your skin while he unclasped your bra. "And second…you'll have to sleep in my arms at all times." He kissed his way up your body until his lips ghosted over yours. "Do we have a deal, goddess?"

You closed the last bit of distance between you, pressing your lips to his before answering him. "Always."

A/N: Meow meow protecting his bb is precious and must be protected at all costs. Everyone working the event finally knows and that means we're on to…game day! I might be giving these two a little break though to work on other series and also…the rest of my requests that've been there since 500 followers and we're already here at [information redacted] so…I'm hella late 🤣🤣

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemis @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

[lokidbadguy]

The way their ages are only one day apart, sharing the same height, both british and aquarius. I guess I have a type.

#lokisaidkneel #lokidbadguy #tom hiddleston #barry sloane #barry sloane x you #barry sloane x reader #barry sloane edit #barry the quokka #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston edit #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddelston x reader #tom hiddelston imagine #loki #loki laufeyson #loki fic #loki fanfic #loki angst #loki x reader #loki smut #captain price x you #captain price x reader #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price #cod mw3 #cod

[holdmytesseract]

To both loki AU'S how are the kidss

Also if you can a fluff fic with tom (or any of his characters I'll leave it up to you :)) taking care of fem! Reader cuz she has exams and she's stressed out of her mind and isn't really taking care of her self and then he helps he study or smthn maybe cuddles idk

(My exams are starting soo ye-)

Examination Stress

Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Warnings: fluff! stress?

Word Count: blurb

a/n: Here we are, friend! Your lil' story! 🥰 I really hope you like it and... Good luck with your exams! 🤗

Day 4 of the Campfire Sleepover! 🏕

"Darling, can you help me for a second?" You heard Tom's voice calling out to you from the living room. "Now?" You called back; sitting criss-crossed on your shared, brand new bed. "What do you need?" "A helping hand!" "Okay, but now?" "Unfortunately, yes!"

You sighed and moved to stand up; quickly making your way down the hall to the living room.

Not even a month ago, you and Tom had decided to move in together and therefore bought your very own little house in London. Something sweet and cosy; just the two of you - and Bobby, of course. And with a new house, new furniture was needed. Therefore, Tom was busy the last weeks with building up some new furniture, while you studied for your final exams at University.

You literally jogged inside the living room; finding your boyfriend laying on the floor underneath the almost built up coffee table. "Okay, baby, what is it?" "Can you, uh, assist me? I kind of underestimated this table..." Another sigh left your lips. "Tommy, can't we do this another day? I really have no time right now. You know that I have to learn for my exams."

Tom didn't have to see your face to tell that you were maximally stressed out. He could hear it in your voice.

"Of course, darling, but don't you think a little break would be good for-" "I can't, Tom," you snapped; feeling the stress and pressure flow through your veins. You didn't have the nerves for this now. "Please make it work alone or wait until another day." Those were your final words as you stomped away; returning to your notes.

Tom sighed as he crawled from beneath the halfway built up coffee table. The handsome Brit got onto his feet; ruffling his short blond hair and adjusting his askew sweatpants. He didn't like this... Your high stress level and panicky demeanour. He didn't like this at all. His next mission now clear... Taking care of you.

Without wasting time, he immediately went to the kitchen to make you and himself a cup of tea. Once that was done, he grabbed your favourites cookies and finally paid the bedroom a visit.

Being the gentleman Tom was, he knocked, even though the door was open. "May I come in?" "Sure," you answered; not even looking up from your notes. Tom walked over and placed the two mugs of piping hot tea and cookies on the nightstand on your bedside. "Can I help you, darling?" "Um, I-I don't know, Tom, I-" Your boyfriend quickly sat down beside you and placed a hand on yours. "Let me help you, please?" His beautiful smile warmed your heart. You couldn't say no, and who knew, perhaps it was a good learning strategy. "Okay."

Tom helped you for over two hours; asking you questions and testing your knowledge. And once both your mugs and the cookies were empty, Tom stood up and stretched his long limbs. "Time for a break, darling. What do you say? Shall we go on a little walk with Bobby?"

You bit your lip; weighing your options. Your conscience screamed at you to keep on learning, but your brain was tired. Worn out.

"I don't know, baby... I should keep on learning..." Tom immediately shook his head. "No, my love. What you need is a break. You've learned for hours today and already the whole past weeks. I know this is a stressful time for you, but please... Don't overdue it. Allow your brain a break. You got this, believe me. You're the smartest woman I know. Trust your abilities."

Tom's words caused the gears to turn in your head. Perhaps he was right... Perhaps you truly needed a break.

Once more you sighed, but finally gave in. "Alright," you said and stood up. "Let's go for a walk." Tom smiled and took your hand.

After a relaxing walk; hand in hand through the Primrose park with your boyfriends sweet Cocker Spaniel, you felt so much better. The fresh air did you good. Tom could feel it as well. Therefore, he didn't let you go straight back to work, oh no... He snuggled up with you on the sofa; just cuddling and kissing.

"Thank you for helping me, baby. And for taking care of me. I needed this." Tom smiled; kissing the tip of your nose. "I know, love - and you are very welcome. I'll always take care of you and make sure you're alright."

You nodded; cuddling closer against his chest. "I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier. I didn't mean that. I am just... so stressed." Tom wrapped both his arms tightly around you. "Don't worry about it, darling. It's already forgiven and forgotten." You smiled; feeling better than ever. Warmth spread throughout your whole body.

"I love you, Tommy." You could feel Tom's lips pressing a kiss against your forehead. "I love you, too, darling."

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @multifandom-worlds @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @stupidthoughtsinwriting @hisredheadedgoddess28 @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @cakesandtom @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @lulubelle814 @glitchquake @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @mandywholock1980 @lokidbadguy @smolvenger

#campfire sleepover #2k follower celebration #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fanfiction

[donaweasley]

It was her handwriting. The curve and dots, all that he had known several years past, hadn't seen for several years but could never put out of his head.

With trembling hands, he picked it up from amidst the crowd of papers, letting the rest in his hand fall recklessly to the hard wooden floor.

He had picked it up alright, but opening it asked him of a lot more courage than he had feared. After staring at the folded piece of yesterday for what seemed to be several years and yet a fleeting moment, long fingers finally started pulling the corners apart, ready to face whatever lay treasured inside.

All this while his heart kept trying to escape the ribcage like a madman. Was this the where she had ended it all? Or was it a piece of hope that his young ego had once tossed aside?

When he finally lay eyes upon the words, it took no less than three seconds foe a drop of tear to smudge a couple of letters.

It was what he had feared. It was the final whiplash of his once proud ego that had made him an outcast from his own heart.

She had written to him. One last time, but she had. She had explained everything, waited for him. And he never knew. Rather, he had ignored it all. It felt like fate had been waiting for the perfect opportunity to laugh at his face for the vanity of his youth.

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

Not sure where it's going. All I know is that it's going to be another angsty Loki piece.

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki of asgard #loki x you #mcu loki #loki (marvel) #loki x reader angst #loki x you angst #loki x y/n #loki x y/n angst #loki angst #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston x reader #wip #loki wip #tom hiddleston wip

[superficialdomina]

Missed connection

A/N: I wrote a little Tom fic while my next sub!Loki marinates a bit. It's angsty and a little fluffy and totally self-indulgent.

Inspired in part by @dangertoozmanykids101 and this post. I hope that's OK with her :)

Summary: Stuck in a train carriage in Italy with Tom. Angst ensues.

W/C: 2.7k

Warnings: Very light, thirsty smut. Stay tuned for part 2 if you want the filth.

Two Three parts - but if you like where they end up after the first one you can totally leave it here.

Part 1

You sigh, closing your book and gazing out the window of the unmoving train into the night. You should have arrived in Padua before dusk, but your train out of Venice had ground to a halt several hours ago without explanation, and had sat here, with frustrating stubbornness, in the growing darkness. 

You stretch your neck, looking around you. Your train carriage is mostly empty, and the few other passengers appear to be asleep. You envy them. It had taken several long flights to arrive in Italy, and to be trapped here on this final leg, so close to your destination, with zero information, is… infuriating.

A movement catches your eye as a tall man enters from an adjoining carriage. He moves slowly between the seats, past the sleeping occupants. You avert your eyes and pretend to concentrate on your lap, your innate introversion kicking in and insisting you avoid a conversation with a stranger. 

"Mi scusi?" 

Startled, you look up, meeting his eyes and taking in his face. Gosh, you think, surprised, he's very pretty. And... Familiar? 

"Hai un cellulare da prestarmi?"

"Non parlo Italiano," you stammer out - one of the few Italian phrases you'd learnt in preparation for your trip. "Do you speak English?"

"Oh," he smiles, blushing charmingly. "Of course. I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but - would you have a mobile phone that I could borrow?"

As soon as he switches to English, recognition washes over you like a flood. To see him out of context like this was terrifically confusing - but that voice… It was unmistakable. You’re momentarily unable to speak.

"I… my phone battery is flat," he continues, misconstruing your long pause. "May I - would you mind if I sent a message to someone?"

"Of course," you manage, as you pull your phone out from your bag. His face relaxes in relief and gratitude as he takes it from you. 

His hands, you think as you try to surreptitiously watch his nimble fingers tap the screen. By all that is holy, his HANDS. As though he heard you, he lifts his left hand to nervously run it back through his loose curls, while continuing to text with his other thumb. 

Maybe I'm dreaming, you think cautiously. I fell asleep on the train and I'm… You pinch your leg. Nope. Hurts.

"Thank you," he says with a long exhale, looking down at you and handing back your phone. "I wasn't expecting to be stuck here…"

You can't help laughing. "Me neither, obviously," you smile. He smiles back, his beautiful lips parting slightly to give you a glimpse of his perfect teeth. 

"Well - thank you," he says again, turning to move back the way he had come. 

"Ah -" you begin, slightly confused. "What if - I mean, should you wait for them to reply?" You try to keep your voice low for the sake of the other occupants of the carriage in their happy slumber. 

His eyes run over the book in your lap, where your small clip-on reading lamp is casting odd shadows. 

"I'd hate to interrupt you further," he says, the question clear in his tone.

"Uh - it would be nice to have the company," you lie. As if that was ever true. Although this time… He narrows his eyes at you briefly; without thinking, you extend your hand. "I'm y/n."

He bites his lower lip, making your stomach flutter. And not just your stomach, if you're honest. But he takes your hand and shakes it. "Tom," he says simply.

You swallow hard at the feel of his long fingers grasping your palm and brushing your wrist. He thinks I don't recognise him. 

"I - I know who you are," you laugh uncomfortably, unable to hold his gaze as he takes the seat opposite you, his thick thighs spread wide. Invitingly.

"Oh," he says again. And again with that subtle blush. Is he doing that on cue? "Well - it's nice to meet you, y/n."

There's a brief, thoroughly awkward silence, before he expertly transitions to well-practised small talk. “You’re clearly not Italian,” he says, mocking his earlier language faux pas. "How is it that you find yourself on an immobile train in the Italian countryside?"

You exhale, suddenly aware that you'd been holding your breath. Don’t look directly at him. "I'm here for a conference," you reply, making eye contact with his forehead and speaking a little too fast. “In Padua. I just flew into Venice from Toronto this afternoon.” You want to ask him why he’s here - alone? - but it feels too personal. Don’t interview the poor man.

“Toronto?” He asks. “You don’t sound Canadian, either.” Gods above, his face is so… expressive. He blinks slowly and you catch his glorious eyelashes as they flit against his skin. His broad chest expands with every inhale, straining against his tight, white shirt. 

“Oh- no, I’m Australian,” Christ, could you stop sounding so fucking flustered? “But I live in Canada.” He pauses as though waiting for you to continue, even though you were sure you’d finished talking. “Just for the last few years. For work.” He sounds so… Interested. As though the inane nonsense that is inarticulately gushing from your mouth is all he wants to hear. Gosh, he really is charming. What a strange super power. Why am I still talking?

“What do you-” he begins, but he is interrupted by the ping of your phone.

“That must be for you,” you murmur, scrambling to pick it up. “Oh - no, sorry, just my husband.” A shadow crosses his face fleetingly. Keen to get a reply and get back to his seat, you think. 

You flick a quick text back to your spouse. Still on the train - no movement. Nothing eventful. Well, that was a big fat lie, you muse to yourself, glancing at the stunning man sitting opposite you.

“You’re married?” he asks, as you return your phone to your bag. 

“I - yes,” you reply, absently touching the wedding ring on your finger and trying not to think about the long years since your husband had made your body ache like the man sitting before you. A man who had barely even touched you. 

“Do you like it?” He asks. You are momentarily confused. “Canada, I mean?” 

“Yes. Sometimes. Mostly.” You take a deep breath, once again aware of the arousal he is stirring in you. Make sentences. “I miss home often.” Another awkward pause that you fight to fill, trying not to stare at his long Greek nose or the shadows cast by his ridiculous cheekbones. “They all think I’m British - Canadians, I mean,” you continue, hating yourself for the banality of your small talk. “They all ask me what part of England I’m from. I tell them ‘the very far south’.”

He laughs at that, throwing his head back and issuing a throaty expression of mirth that makes you quiver between your legs. Are… are my pants damp? You wonder silently, both quietly horrified and mildly interested at your body’s reaction to the close proximity of this beautiful man, and the inexplicable circumstances that have led you here.

“Well, you don’t exactly sound like Steve Irwin,” he laughs, eyes glittering in the low light.

“And you don’t sound like Eliza Doolittle,” you quip, before bringing your hand to cover your mouth, mortified. 

“I’m so sorry. I - I’m lousy at small talk. And I’m… A little awed to be speaking to you.” Ugh. Gushing. How unattractive.

But he continues to smile that dazzling smile that touches his lovely eyes so easily. “It’s quite alright,” he says gently. “Most people are.” The words are arrogant, but his tone suggests something altogether different. Is he… Uncomfortable?

He looks briefly out the window into the darkness. Stars have materialised in the inky sky. 

“Skip the small talk, then,” he offers, turning back to face you, voice deep and sultry, eyes piercing and intense. You press your thighs together to relieve the growing tension between them. No question now - you were wet with arousal. “Tell me something… Substantial.” He shifts in his seat and you try desperately not to look at his crotch. Just don’t stand up before he leaves, you tell yourself. His eyes slide to the book next to you. “What are you reading?” 

You also glance at the book on your seat, remembering where you had been mere minutes prior, in that previous life before Tom had first spoken to you. It’s telling that he considers that a substantial question, you think. You swallow. “Ah - War Lord by Bernard Cornwell,” you say, picking it up.

“Are you enjoying it?” 

“I - not really,” you admit, passing your eyes over the cover. Once again, his face encourages you to keep talking. “It’s the last in a long series. I was probably done with them a while ago but - it’s hard not to finish something you’ve come so far with...” You’ve run out of words again, and he’s still watching you…

You awkwardly clear your throat. “What are you reading?”

He laughs and reaches his hand into a large inner pocket of his jacket, pulling out a simple, slightly battered-looking book. 

 “The Dispossessed,” he replies, his eyes sparkling, “by Ursula Le Guin.” His middle finger strokes the spine lovingly. “It’s beautiful. I read it every few years,” he confesses. “It’s a commentary on materialism and capitalism… and it’s also a thought piece about time - time as a product of mathematics and physics but also philosophy and ethics. But mostly,” he finally pauses for breath, “it’s a love story. Love that transcends space and time-”

“I’ve read it,” you interrupt him, and can’t help laughing at the sheer boyish joy that has come over his face as he spoke. “I - it’s one of my favourites, too.” 

The wide, open-mouthed smile he gives you then transforms his entire face, and you suddenly feel that it is the first genuine expression he has given you. What just happened?

“Really?” He is suddenly abuzz with little-boy energy. Puppy energy. “I don’t meet many people who have read it. It’s a seriously underrated Le Guin book.”

“Yes!” you agree heartily. “She’s so renowned for the Earthsea chronicles but… The Dispossessed is so complex and… beautiful. And yes, a truly touching love story. Did you know that Shevek is modelled on Oppenheimer?” 

“I had heard that, but he always made me think of Feynman.”

“Me too!” You laugh enthusiastically, before remembering your sleeping companions and lowering your voice again. “It has, I think, my favourite line ever written.” He raises his eyebrows. You quote, “You can go home again, so long as you understand that home is a place where you have never been.”

“That’s your favourite line ever written?”

“Yes!” you say again, mildly embarrassed. “It’s… it’s…” You search for the words, forcing yourself to form logical sentences again. “We believe that time is something real, that life is what’s happening outside ourselves. But time - life - is within us.” You lean forward in your seat, willing him to understand your point. “You know - you can’t step twice in the same river, because neither you nor the river are the same. Live now, because you won’t be here again.”

He nods. “We all get two lives, and the second life begins when we realise we only get one.”

You exhale, suddenly aware of the thrill that is coursing through your body. Careful, you tell yourself, then chastise yourself for such a foolish notion. But this one might hurt when you land. “Yes. Exactly.”

“I also have a favourite line in it,” he offers, hesitantly. “Maybe not ever written,” he teases you gently, “but…” 

With surprise, you watch him open the book still in his hands to a dog-eared page. He reads. “If you can see a thing whole, it seems that it's always beautiful. Planets, lives. But close up, a world's all dirt and rocks. The way to see how beautiful the Earth is, is to see it from the moon.” 

He looks up at you expectantly, his whole energy shifted, sucking his lower lip into his mouth as though waiting for your approval. But you are momentarily stunned. He’s… Sad. 

“Is that…” You stop, knowing that your question is far too personal, but unsure if you can carry on the conversation without asking it. You’ll never be here again, you remind yourself, and stumble on. “Is that how you feel? All… Dirt and rocks?”

He gazes back at you, his smile touched with a hint of melancholy. “Sometimes. I wonder if my life is more beautiful from a distance than from the inside.” 

You consider your words carefully before we speak. “Don’t we all feel that way? Our lives are more perfect, more interesting, on paper, than they are in reality? Only the people closest to us see how messy we really are. Maybe no one knows us as well as ourselves.”

“Maybe,” he sighs. “I often have to remind myself that this is the life I chose, not the life that chose me.” You stare at him, astonished not only by the words he is saying, but by the brazen honesty of what he is sharing, and by the full 180 degree shift in his mood in the last few moments. Volatile. 

“Anyway,” he smiles, almost convincingly, as if to say, that’s enough self pity. “Your turn. Marriage? How is it?”

The question takes you thoroughly by surprise. “M… Marriage?” He doesn’t speak, but raises his eyebrows as he continues to look at you with that unusual intensity… It is strangely intimate. “That doesn’t really seem like a fair question when I’m staring at Tom Hiddleston sitting opposite me.” You groan inwardly, wishing you hadn’t said it aloud. 

He chuckles. “Close your eyes, then.” 

You stare at him open-mouthed for a second, the simple suggestion ringing through your ears like a command. Your core clenches and you feel the slick in your panties practically gushing down your inner thighs. You swallow hard.

But to be fair to your husband, you do as he suggests. You immediately feel incredibly exposed. “It’s…” You pause, thinking; remembering. “You know when you take a long drive, and somewhere in between towns the radio signal drops out, and there’s nothing but static?” To your surprise, words begin to pour out of you, some kind of overflow triggered by the unexpected vulnerability. “And there’s nothing you can do but keep driving, and trust that you’ll get signal again when you reach the next town?”

You open your eyes again. He has leaned forwards towards you, elbows resting on his spread thighs. His eyebrows knit gently, and he cocks his head slightly, encouraging you to continue. 

“Well… sometimes it’s like that,” you finish lamely, embarrassed at your familiarity with him. 

His tongue darts out of his mouth to lick his lips as he continues to gaze at you with his now familiar, interested intensity. “But you do trust it? That you’ll find the signal again?”

“Mostly, yes,” you reply quietly, meeting his eyes properly as a tingly powerlessness comes over your own body. Breathe, you concentrate, acutely aware of how close he is.

In the next second, two things happen simultaneously. With a sudden jolt, the train rumbles to life and begins to move again, light in the carriage flickering as power is briefly redistributed to the engine. You both gasp in surprise at the unexpected movement.

When your eyes meet again, the spell is broken.

In the same moment, your phone pings a second time. You pull it out, handing it to him when you don’t recognise the number. He swallows, a muscle in his jaw quivering. He takes the phone, smiling stiffly and nodding mechanically as he reads the message; he taps a short reply, then deletes the thread. 

He stands as he hands it back to you. “I think we are not far from your destination,” he smiles, abruptly as poised and controlled as when he had first entered the carriage. The suddenness of the transition from friend to stranger leaves you feeling disoriented. “Thank you for your company, y/n. It’s been a pleasure.” 

You take a breath and lift your chin. “Likewise,” you smile. He nods to you before turning away, and doesn’t look back as he leaves the carriage.

Damn, you think. I didn’t even ask where he's going.

Continued in Part 2

Hope y'all don't mind the tags.

@lokisgoodgirl @gigglingtigger @coldnique @holymultiplefandomsbatman @peaches1958 @chantsdemarins @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @vbecker10 @currish-rosewolfe @muddyorbsblr @so-easy-to-love-me @villainousshakespeare @caffiend-queen @peachyjinx @thomase1 @fictive-sl0th @simplyholl @mochie85 @lokischambermaid @cheekyscamp @sarahscribbles @joyful-enchantress @muddyorbs @lovelysizzlingbluebird

#Tom/reader #tom hiddleston fic #sas stuff

[anonymousfiction211]

May I request for Tom Hiddleston smut with #30, #41 and #45. Thank you.

30. 'Please tell me, this is not why you woke me up' 41. 'Kiss me and/or shut up' 45. 'Well that’s your bad'

If you want to submit your own drabble prompt idea, click here. I'm closing the drabble prompt ideas in 24 hours.

A lot of energy (smut, 18+)

‘Pssst’

‘Darling….’

‘Psssst….’

‘What?’ you groaned in frustration.

‘I can’t sleep’ Tom sighed.

‘Please… tell me  this is not why you woke me up’ you answered a little annoyed. You were sleeping soundly.

‘I’m too excited’ you could feel him shuffling underneath the covers.

‘Tom..’ you sighed, looking at the clock on your nightstand. ‘It is almost 3 o’clock in the middle of the night. Let me sleep’

‘But I can’t believe we are FINALLY starting shooting for the series tomorrow. FINALLY’ he sat upright in the bed, making the blankets slide off your shoulders a little. The cold air was unforgiving against your skin.

‘I know, but if you don’t sleep either you will be tired’ you tried.

‘Yeah, yeah, you’re right. I’ll try’ Tom finally agreed.

10 minutes later

‘Darling?’

‘Psst..’

‘Tom, seriously’ you answered. You were almost back to sleep, but not quite yet.

‘Would you want to read the script?’ he asked. He got upright again.

‘I want to sleep’ you said.

‘Well, that’s your bad’ he grumbled.

‘Tom, you know I love you. You know I’ll go to set with you tomorrow and I have read the script three times with you already. Please, and I beg of you, please let me sleep’ you sat upright as well.

‘Alright, alright.. sorry, darling. Just go to sleep. I just need to figure out what to do with all this energy. Maybe I’ll go for a run’ you kissed his cheek and laid back down again. Thinking that was the ending of you interruptions. Little did you know how wrong you were.

10 minutes later

 You were awoken by two lips kissing your neck.

‘Toomm..’ you whined and moaned at the same time.

‘I know what to do with all this energy I have’ he whispered in your ear.

His hand crept underneath the hem of your night dress. He leisurely started to circle your clit on top of the fabric of you underwear. You turned around to face him. Your need was already growing, and you didn’t mind the interruption of your sleep anymore. That is what his hands did to you.

‘Do you still want to sleep?’ he teased. ‘Because if you do, I’ll let you sleep’ his hand disappeared underneath your waistband where he resumed his leisurely rolling of his fingers.

‘Kiss me and shut up’ you panted.

‘O gladly, because I have a LOT of energy for this night’ he growled before catching your lips in a ferocious kiss.

#tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston sex #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston story #tom hiddleston drabble #tom hiddleston x you

[sarahrogersevans]

Let Me Take Care Of You- Tom Hiddleston shy!xreader fan fic

Summary: Y/N is really anxious and having a hard time & Y/N’s bf Tom grabs all of her comfort stuff & takes care of her

Warnings: mentions of anxiety, fluff comfort, angst, soft Tom, ends really well, let me know if I miss anything

~Y/N’s POV

Living with anxiety is really hard, it’s changed how I do things. Today has been the roughest time I’ve been feeling super anxious all day and could barely get up this morning to do anything. I got really hungry so I finally got myself to get up to go make something to eat & I started to make some ramen soup and I heard my boyfriend Tom walk into the kitchen and he wrapped his arms around my waist and said “hey darling what do you making? I stirred in the chicken flavoring then turned around to hug him and said “I’m making soup.” and then I started feeling anxious again.

Tom hugged me noticing how I was feeling and got concerned and said “hey Y/N I got you darling? Is it your anxiety?” I nodded my head hiding my face in his chest which he kissed the top of my head and saw the ramen was all cooked and said “alright give me one moment my dear your food is ready, I’ll pour it in a bowl for you. Want a fork or spoon?” I pointed to both the fork and the spoon and said “both please, if that’s ok?..” Tom kissed my forehead and said “of course sweetheart, how about you go sit on the couch and I will bring you some soup with your favorite crackers?” I smiled at Tom and said “alright thank you babe, can I go lay down for a few minutes? ” Tom nodded after getting a bowl from the cabinet and said “great idea darling, go relax Y/N you deserve it. I’ll be there in a minute I promise.” I went over to the couch and laid down and hid my face in my hoodie wishing my anxiety would just go away.

~Tom’s POV

I put a bowl of ramen and some crackers together on a tray and went to go join Y/N in the living room and saw the state she was in and it broke my heart seeing her struggle so much with anxiety. I put the tray on a nearby table and went to kneel over by Y/N rubbing her back carefully & said “Y/N? I have your lunch, are you ready to try and eat?” She sat up slowly and said “the soup smells so good, thank you for bringing all of this to me honey you didn’t have to.” I picked up the tray and handed it to her and said “darling not to worry, I wanna take care of you.”

Y/N blushed and I felt so happy that I got her to smile, “there’s my girl’s beautiful smile” I said to her and then I had an idea that her essential oil diffuser and her comfort movie would help her relax. I got up to go get everything and Y/N panicked and said “oh no!.. please don’t go..” I kissed her head and said “oh it’s alright sweetheart I’m just gonna go get something alright?” She nodded and I left the room for a moment to find her diffuser and her favorite movie & then went back to the living room and Y/N walked over to me wrapping her arms around me.

I loved whenever Y/N hugged me, I kissed her head and said “how are you feeling my love?” She shrugged and said “eh ok, what are you holding? By the way I finished eating.” I kissed her and said “I’m proud of you Y/N and I have your oil diffuser and your favorite movie, I thought having the scent of lavender in the room would be comforting plus we can cuddle and watch lilo and stitch together.” Y/N smiled at me and leaned in to kiss me and said “Tom you are the most wonderful man, thank you for everything I love you, I wouldn’t be able to get through all this without you.” I took her hands in mine and said “darling, you are never alone I will be here for you whenever you need me I love you so much and I hate seeing you suffer I really do.” I set up the diffuser and the movie and sat down by Y/N wrapping my arm around her and I felt her cuddle up close to me and she looked so relaxed and fell asleep on me a little later due to the lavender oil and I let her rest knowing she needed sleep and I was relieved knowing she wasn’t anxious now.

~Y/N’s POV.

I woke up two hours later surprised I had fallen asleep and saw Tom smiling me and I faced him smiling and said “hi babe, when did I fall asleep?” Tom kissed my forehead and said “hmm halfway through the movie love.” I covered my face feeling embarrassed but Tom moved my hands away from my face and said “hey hey don’t worry Y/N I’m glad you were able to take a nap you needed it.” I smiled at Tom feeling so lucky and then looked at the tv to see if the movie was paused or not and it was thankfully and Tom said “can I get you anything darling? Water or some chocolate?” Both did sound kinda good but I didn’t want him doing everything for me so I got up and said “no it’s ok honey I can go get stuff, I’m gonna go get some water and a bit of my KitKat ice cream.” Tom got up with me and said “darling you sure you don’t want me to bring anything to you? I don’t mind.” I shook my head saying “don’t worry Tom you’re so sweet but it’ll be good for me to move around and stay busy, I’lll even do a round of dishes while I’m up.

Tom rubbed my back while I scooped out the ice cream and said “at least let ne help you with the dishes alright? I wanna help.” I went over to Tom wrapping my arms around his neck and I said “I would love the help Tom I love you” He kissed me once more and I saw him wink at me which made me blush, I felt my body relax more snd I felt so relieved and proud of myself for making it through another day with anxiety.

Hey lovelies ❤️🙂 I hope you will enjoy this comfort fic,I really did my best 🥺 I’ve been dealing with anxiety a lot lately so writing this was very comforting 🥹😌 to anyone going through anxiety know your aren’t alone xx

Taglist:

@lokiandbuckysdoll @iamlokisgloriouspurpose

@jessybarnes

@sunshine-on-my-mind

@nana1000night

@writersblog20

@delicatecoffeepeanut

@imyourbratzdoll

@anotherfuckingmarvelfanaccount

@precious1610

@marvelstarker-mha98

@vrittivsanghavi

@chrisevansdaughter

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[multifandom-worlds]

A Visit from a Star

Genre: angsty fluff

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Highschool bullying

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy this Tom Hiddleston fic thing I wrote a few months ago but only getting around to posting now! Just some familial love between the reader and brother Tom

Tagging: @holdmytesseract @muddyorbsblr

You were sitting, bored out of your mind, in one of your classes, thinking about your older brother, of all people. It had been months since you’d seen him since filming started for his new Loki series. You had sent him a few messages here and there, but he never got back to you; while you were hurt, you understood that’s what happens when you’re the younger sibling of an actor. What angers you the most is that he’s filming only a few blocks from your school.

“Hey, pipsqueak, how’s the class?” 

The message lights up your screen; it took everything in you not to squeal with excitement. Your desk neighbour looked at you like you were insane, but you didn’t care; your brother texted you. You look around before picking up your phone to answer him back. 

“I’m so bored. I hate theory. How’s filming going? Getting along with your co-stars?”

You put your phone back down, trying to focus again, but you kept glancing at your phone, checking to see if he had answered you. Nothing. You tried not to be disappointed because you knew he was busy, but to text you randomly out of the blue like that and not respond was cruel, even to you. Just as you were about to put your phone away so you could focus, his name lights up your screen again.

“Pipsqueak, where is your class? What classroom number?”

You look at your phone curiously. Why did he want your classroom number? Was he going to deliver you flowers or something? It wouldn’t be the first time he’s done something like that. He couldn’t be here for your 18th birthday a few months ago, so he sent you a huge bouquet of roses and a super sweet card. That was likely the same thing today, except it was not your birthday.

“E315, why?” 

You gather your belongings before shoving them unceremoniously in your backpack. Tom got your hopes up for nothing, and you were pissed. The squealing sounds outside the door drew you out of your anger-induced haze. What the hell was everyone squealing about? You shuffle to the door and look around. All you could see was a gaggle of classmates swarming around someone or something, probably a dog or something.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out soon, pipsqueak.”

You look at the message, trying to figure out why Tom wanted to know where your class was. You only had 10 minutes of class left, so if he was planning on delivering something to you, he had better make it snappy, or you wouldn’t receive it. Your attention was trained on the door, trying to see if a delivery person would step over the threshold, but when the time was up, and there was nobody, you couldn’t hide your disappointment. 

That was until you heard an unmistakable voice carrying above the din of the hallway, a voice that used to read you bedtime stories as a child, a voice that would help you with your homework when you struggled, a voice you grew up listening to. 

You turn around, standing on your toes to try and see over the crowd - you were not blessed with the same height genes as Tom, so seeing over was impossible. For you, not for him. He smiles, seeing the top of your head poking out above the mass of people. A small chuckle escapes his lips as he pushes through the crowd. 

“Hello, pipsqueak.” He smiled, slipping his arms around your waist and pulling you into the tightest hug you’ve ever received. You fling your arms around your brother’s neck, absolutely giddy that he was there. A low chuckle rumbles in his chest. “I missed you too, half pint. I got a break from filming for several hours, so I thought I would visit my mini-me and see how they're doing.” 

“You could have told me you were coming!” You retort, poking his chest with a laugh. You were trying to be mad at him, but you couldn’t; you were far too excited that he was actually there in front of you. You grab your backpack that you dropped to the floor before slinging it over your shoulders. “Thank you for the visit; it was nice seeing you. I’m sure you’ve got to get back now.” 

 Tom chuckles, ruffling your hair. “You still don’t really listen to me, do you? I said I had a break for a few hours, not a few minutes. You’re dealing with your big brother for a few more hours.” Tom walks towards the food court before your brain makes the connection and tells your legs to move. You quickly catch up with your brother, who navigates the school halls effortlessly. He laughs at your confused expression. “I graduated from here, pip. This was the high school I went to. Don’t you remember being here for my graduation?” 

You wrack your brain trying to remember, but you were so young when he graduated, that there was no way you could actually remember. You two don’t share the same last name, so it wasn’t obvious you were Tom’s younger sibling. Tom shrugged, ruffling your hair again. “That’s fine, pip; you were still so young, I don’t blame you.”

“Why is Tom Hiddleston spending time with you?”

You smile, walking beside him as you two reach the food court. You could feel the burning stares of the student body as you sat down. You weren’t sure if you wanted to hide under the pressure or hold your head high. Tom went to buy you some lunch as a treat, and as soon as he left, your table was swarmed with some of the worst students in your class.

“How does he know you?”

“Who do you think you are?”

“How did you get to spend time with him? I bet your parents paid him to make you look less like a loser.”

Everyone was swarming you, making assumptions and everything, causing panic to rise in your chest. You wanted, no, you needed your brother to come back. You were invisible before now. You cover your head with your hands, trying to hide away and make yourself small, but the accusations and assumptions just keep going.

That was, until he returned; seeing how you’re shrinking into yourself was enough for him to put his reputation on the line. He heard the last comment that was made, and it hurt him. He loved this school and hoped you would too, but seeing how different the students are now made him regret getting you to come here.

“Our parents don’t have to pay me anything to spend time with my younger sibling. I missed their birthday a few weeks ago, so I came to visit during a break from work.” He turns back to you, holding out his hand. “Come on, Pip, sign yourself out, we’re leaving.” 

You take his hand, standing up. Tom grabs the food he bought for the 2 of you, and together, you walk to the office to sign yourself out for the rest of the day. You weren’t sure what he had planned, but all that mattered was you got to spend time with him. And if you’re lucky, meet some other celebrities while you’re at it.

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