#tom hiddleson x plus-sized reader

[jewels2876]

Carrying A Torch

Cooking together for @marvelfluffbingo​

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Plus-sized female reader

Word Count: 893

No warnings - just food and fluff!

Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics​

When you had accepted the job with craft services, you expected to be cooking for some interesting people. Nowhere in the contract you had to sign did it state you would ever consider rubbing elbows with some of your favorite actors, let alone your dream crush Tom Hiddleston.  But here you were, creating dishes and desserts for hundreds and staring at the backside of said crush. Currently that backside was covered in a pair of tight blue pants that he seemed to favor and a light grey colored sweater. Wondering to yourself if the sweater was as soft as it looked, you flipped the veggies in the cast iron skillet. 

“MIght I trouble you for another serving?” You turned to see a pair of piercing greenish blue eyes staring back at you. “It’s really delicious and I thought I could use more.” You blushed at the attention from Tom, but smiled easily and offered the veggies straight out of the skillet.

“Let me know what you think. I added a bit of heat to them this time.”

Tom groaned as he took his first bite. “Delicious! You can cook for me anytime.” He watched as you broke out into a wide smile at his compliment. Tom took another bite and looked at you thoughtfully. Don’t say something stupid, he thought as he opened his mouth.

“Well I should be going. These really are delicious .” He gave you a gentle smile and walked away.

A week later, you were in the middle of creating several creme brulees when a loud crash sounded. You watched in horror as the desserts sank in the middle. You looked around for the culprit and saw an apologetic Tom with his head hung. “I am so sorry!”

You sucked in a breath and tried to hold back the tears. “It’s okay Tom. I can start from scratch, but… these were for the directors. They’re going to have my job if I don’t do this right.” Tom’s jaw dropped slightly, not knowing how delicate the situation was.

“I really am sorry…”

“I know. I have to get back to work.” You gave him a small smile as you dumped the ruined desserts in the trash.

“Can I help?”

You startled at the questions. “Can you help?”

Tom flashed a winning smile. “I know that I can help, but may I, since I was the cause of the disaster?”

You merely nodded; Tom’s smile grew wider and grabbed a clean apron from behind you. You handed him 4 large eggs, with instructions to break them and separate the yolks while you warmed cream, sugar, and vanilla bean in a saucepan. The conversation flowed easily as Tom acted as your sous chef. He would ask questions here and there, but he let you do most of the work. As the custards baked, he studied you more closely. “How did you get into cooking?”

You shifted from one foot to another before responding. “I come from a long line of women that didn’t like to cook, so this was a shock to people who know my family. But I took Home Economics in high school and was hooked immediately. I liked being able to make people happy with food.”

The oven timer went off. You pulled out the water bath and eyed the ramikens critically. “These look perfect. I’ll let them chill overnight and finish them up at the luncheon tomorrow.”

“You mean I can’t torch them?” Tom’s face fell. You held back your laugh until the refrigerator door was shut.

“Maybe another time.”

The directors made yummy noises as they slurped up their desserts. You tried to hide your smile behind your hand as a small line of the brulee trickled down the chin of one director.  “Is there anything else I can get you?”

The one who just finished wiped the errant drip off his chin exclaimed. “No thank you! That was amazing! Tom wasn’t lying!”  You stopped and looked at the director in confusion. “He told us you were an amazing chef; count us among your fans.” 

“Thank you,” you said as you slightly bent a knee in respect. You made a mental note to talk to Tom about this the next time you saw him again.  You left the room, signaling the cleanup crew with a nod.

As you walked back to your car, you ran into a hard body. “I am so…” Your words died on your lips as you stared at Tom. “Oh, sorry.” You backed up and moved to walk around him.

Tom reached out and touched your arm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you gave him a small smile, unlocking your car. “Thanks again for your help yesterday. The creme brulee was a hit! Although….”

“Although?” He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“They caught me off guard, mentioning you and your compliments on my cooking.” You shrugged before hitting your key fob and opening the car door.

Tom held open your car door as you slid in. “Even if I wouldn't have said anything, they still would have given you rave reviews.”

“Probably.” You settled into your seat, trying not to stare too hard at him. Is he just being nice or…

“Maybe we can make them again sometime, as you suggested. Say, this weekend? After dinner?” Tom’s smile grew just a bit.

You tried not to look shocked as he waited patiently for your reply. “Me? Dinner?” you squeaked. You cleared your throat and took a quick deep breath. “I mean, yes. That sounds great! Maybe I’ll start them before you come over.”

“And you’ll let me use the torch?” 

Something else was sparking at the idea of entertaining this lovely man in your tiny flat. You giggled at the thought. “Yes, this time I’ll let you use the torch.”

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