#thomas hiddleston x fem reader

[smolvenger]

The Child Called Sharpe (Thomas Sharpe x fem! Reader Blurb)

Summary: You and Thomas Sharpe welcome your first baby and his second, as Thomas himself faces his own demons regarding his past.

Word Count: 1K (er...blurb or short oneshot, whatever)

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy and childbirth, but nothing graphic. In this version, though I try to have a more nuanced take on Lucille, In this fic I choose to portray the Lucille/Thomas relationship as nonconsensual, pedophilic, and abusive so if you don't like that don't read this, so mentions of sexual abuse, death, illness, blood with some of the canon events of Crimson Peak. But it becomes a lot of tooth-rotting fluff.

A/N: I can't please everyone with Crimson Peak on the is Lucille good or bad vrs. is Thomas good or bad discourse, so why bother trying anymore. I just wanna write my stuff. From @holdmytesseract's request!

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

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

Love for him meant creation. It brought out Thomas’s gift of invention tenfold- for love itself was creation. For the first time in his life, an act of love brought out the child’s creation. So it was natural for Thomas to spend hours inventing more for this little child on their way.

That is, his second child. For he had a child, once, and lost that child, once. 

Yes, it was a child conceived from control rather than consent…but it was still a child in need of care. A hungry baby- a human life crying for milk, and burning with fever. A child “born wrong.” A child Enola swore to fight to keep alive. 

And a child that despite everything died anyway. As did Enola. 

Despite Lucille’s cruelty, he did pity her grief for that child- For it was his grief as well.

Lucille caught ill and died not long after. He at least made sure she died comfortably. Warm beneath blankets on a soft bed. Assured her she was loved and kissed her cheek as she took her last breath.

It was complicated, his feelings about his late sister. He never could decide one thing about her. For everything was true- there was both in her. Lucille, both cruel and misunderstood, powerful and pitiful, villain and victim.

Though he never once forced himself on anyone or took advantage of a child as she did to him…

And yet…

He was still guilty of scheming, of blood, of darkness as she was. Of the invention that he wanted to be funded, that he bought at the price of three women’s lives… 

But… assaulting him when he was little? Using his innocence until when he was grown he knew no other but her? You would tell him that even if the murders were understandable, she did cross a line in that regard.

He still didn’t know if the woman who at once was his partner, his equal, his sister as well as his jailer, his predator, his molester was deserving of it. 

Or not. 

Or both.

Yet, all of that darkness and blood was now in the past. Here you were his current wife. A wife who would never take advantage of him. A wife who listened and respected when he said “no.” A wife who wouldn’t push him. Wouldn’t manipulate him. Wouldn’t control him. A wife who forgave him and saw he was now trying to do right with his life, and his choices and would be there to support him.

 Your pregnancy was poignant.  A reminder that he had a new life now- and a life that was about to expand as your stomach did each month.  A new life was about to come forth literally and figuratively for him. 

In the corner of his workshop in a special box were toys he made once. Toys were made for the first child who died. 

He never prayed, but he did now to whoever listened. For once, those toys would know being loved, being played, and for a baby’s laughter and delight and adoration. They wouldn’t rust from age, but with use. To be worn not with dust, but with love.

He brought out the box one morning and set it in the nursery of his new house. A simpler house compared to Allerdale Hall’s Majesty. Smaller and brighter, made of cherrywood and over earth rather than clay. But cheerful, the warmth bursting in every room.

The toys were cleaned and set ready in that nursery corner. You squeezed his hand after he did so.

When making sure you were comfortable, or when you slept or napped, away he would be in his workshop. He had a special toy shop now next to the house. So in his downtime, he would be found creating little toys that a child of any sex would love. A little teddy bear that twirled on top of a drum. A little cat that lifted to lick its little paw next to a puppy that wagged its tail. 

But…what else would a baby need!? His mind was reeling. It had been too long…

Of course! A place to sleep! You had insisted the old wooden rocker would work…but he still had that itching, the gears in his mind whirring faster than any clay mine.

He took a few weeks to study the designs and then set right to work. He stayed up late, rolling up his sleeves. Working on one where if you pressed a small pedal, it would rock gently, oh so gently, as to not stir a baby to more wailing, but only to sleep.

So when he discovered that Lady Sharpe’s water broke, he insisted on staying by you.

“Thomas! But…husbands don’t..don’t usually stay!” you cried. You clutched his hand as he led you to the bed.

Lucille would urge him to leave when it was time to put a cleaver into one of the wives.

For once, he would look at the blood and the bodily innards spilling from his wife and not turn away.

He shook his head, though his hand was still in yours.

“No- My dear, all of my life, I closed my eyes and ran away. I didn’t look when things happened. Not this time- after I get the midwife, I am staying with you. I will not run away for once. I’m going to stay with my wife and keep my eyes open, no matter what I see. I love you- and for once, I am not leaving.” I will not leave you alone to deal with it now.

You grabbed him and kissed his cheek. Then he ran and fetched the midwife. He held to his word and stayed.

Labor is always long. Labor is always primal. But he waited there. Squeezing your hand, cooling your head for every painful cry and push. 

Then, after the long hours, though he was a man used to blood he turned pale… Then at last there was a cry.

The midwives smiled, bringing out a little baby in their blaket. Declaring, “It’s a girl!”

You let out a smile and then a laugh of relief. Thomas kissed your hand, then looked at her. His blue eyes brimmed with tears, but for once in his life they were happy ones.

The little girl was brought out in her blanket, needing her mother’s touch- being so new to this cold world and wanting the soft embrace of knowing she was loved now that she was here.

“Look at her…look at her- our baby! Our daughter! Oh!” you cried, a mess of crying, swear, and relief—the pain of the last several hours was forgotten for the tiny baby.

“I never could imagine it,” he agreed, he pecked her tiny forehead.

Once she had settled down, you handed her over to Thomas. The warm, living bundle in his arms. Yes, her cry was loud and bright…but it only signaled that she was alive.. He had never known such joy without confinement, without limits.

The midwives and nurses were paid and thanked. They left, but though it was a long day his Daedelian mind was eager to share his gift.

As you sat in the bed after a while, Thomas got up.

“I have a gift now. For her,” he announced.

Setting you in the wheelchair for rest, he led you to the nursery. The little girl in your arms. Inside the little pastel room there was something in the middle that was tall beneath a blanket.

Thomas walked forward and slipped the blanket off. You let out a gasp.

Beneath was the cradle Thomas made. It was stunningly beautiful- a little pedal that when he stepped on it, would make it rock. Over the bed was a music box on the side that trinkled a lullabye. Stars and a crescent moon dangled were placed to spin over the babies head where she would be placed.

You gasped, seeing how ornate it was. Every bit made with love. As you got up and placed her inside, she opened her little eyes and cooed. You made a little gasp as she took in the sight- her parents and her special gift. Music, rocking, and the stars and moon to dance above her.

To think, after all he had seen, experienced, and done…that he would come to know this moment. Here it was…and he didn’t feel worthy of it.

What when she was older? His own father was a monster. And for a while, fatherhood was linked to such things…

“I only hope I shall be a good father for that little girl…” Thomas wondered..

“You already are,” you assured him. You wrapped an arm around him and kissed him on the cheek.

That night, you were set to sleep after the exhaustion of delivery and elation of the baby. Thomas offered to be there in the nursery. For she was crying through that night, as any baby. Not that she was hungry, as he found out, she just needed warmth.

He got her out of the lovely cradle and went to the rocking chair. He wanted to hold her, feel her close. Her warmth and beating heart and life. 

His most precious creation of all…and the one that would survive. He knew she would.

“I promise you, my little love…” Thomas told the baby. “You will not know of attics. Of cold and punishments. Of plotting and murders. Of blood and cruelty…”

He kissed the top of her head.

“No- you will be Protected. Wanted…and loved.”

He would do everything so that his daughter would never have to suffer as he did.

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x female reader #crimson peak fanfic #crimson peak fanfiction #sir thomas sharpe #sir thomas sharpe x reader #sir thomas sharpe x y/n #sir thomas sharpe x fem! y/n #tom hiddleston characters #angst with a happy ending #crimson peak #crimson peak fanfics #fanfiction #tom hiddleston

[andsheloved]

𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒂𝒏 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔

pairing ~ sir thomas sharpe x f!reader

word count ~ 1.3k

summary ~ when your own mind seems shattered, you're reminded of who will always be there to pick up the pieces.

warnings ~ plotless, pointless fluff, mention of nightmares/past traumatic experiences (nothing specific is mentioned), brief mention of death, implied insomnia, everyone needs to get some sleep.

a/n ~ this isn't the best thing i've written but my brain !! needed this !! let this be my little lullaby goodnight gift to you, and please enjoy some comforting thomas sharpe regardless mwauh :)

You could compare the feeling to something like falling, even if it really felt nothing like that. It wasn't that weightless, somewhat pleasant feeling one would get when drifting back into their own reality. It felt like death.

And in a way, maybe it was.

Even in your dreams, you could feel yourself falling back into the clutches of that endless cycle you couldn't seem to break, even while you attempted to find some sort of reprieve from your own mind in sleep, you still found yourself tormented, cursed with the ability of remembering.

You jolted awake, and suddenly you could feel your body once again, sensing how your chest rose and fell at a speed that, you had to admit, even worried yourself. You winced at the overwhelming buzzing that rang through your mind as you attempted to bring yourself back to the reality you found yourself paralyzed in, the only thing of warmth you could sense were the tears creeping down your face, stinging your eyes and reminding you of your own mortality.

"Dearest..." You could hear his voice, and although it was barely above a whisper to your ears, it felt like a tether, a life raft being thrown to you.

And so you reached for it, searching for the hushed flickers of his loving tone as you cut through the wicked, twisted vines that kept you from him, trying to return yourself to at least something akin to a resting state.

"You're alright..." You could hear him murmur, the feeling of his soft lips against the shell of your ear finally reaching your senses. "I'm here. I promise... You're safe..."

You felt a pain in your throat, as if being suffocated by your own anguish. The sensation was one of a monster in your chest, scratching and clawing against your insides, begging to be released in some sort of carnal, ferociously pained scream, though your lips remained sealed, or at least partially sealed. All that could escape your lips was a single, wounded sigh.

"Thomas..." You breathed, your trembling hand barely shifting, grasping for any part of him that you could hang on to.

"I'm right here."

His smooth voice only got clearer with each passing second, the feeling of his thumb gently brushing across your knuckles anchoring you to reality.

"I'm right here..." He continued to repeat, the gentle cadence of his words lulling your heartbeat until you began to feel some semblance of peace. "I'm right here."

Even as your mind settled, as your body began to no longer feel as if you had just ran some sort of harrowing marathon, you could still barely manage to say a word, so an almost silent whimper was all that escaped you.

And yet, even without a word uttered, he still managed to understand you.

Just as he always did.

His arms seemed to wrap around you in an instant, enveloping you into the warmth that you always seemed to find yourself longing for these days. Your heart stilled, finally at peace.

"Was it-"

You solemnly nodded before he could even finish, your chin gently nuzzling against his bicep as you did.

"Well..." He groaned softly, adjusting himself against you as he tenderly pulled you flush against his firm chest, prompting you to finally turn your head to face him. "You're safe now. Nothing can hurt you. Nothing could ever."

You swallowed harshly, your mind briefly returning to your previous state.

If it were anyone else, you might have even dared to accuse them of witchcraft, but it was Thomas. Your Thomas. And he knew you in a way you couldn't even comprehend yourself. It was as if he could read your mind, his thumb and forefinger finding their way to your chin, his touch shackling you once again to him.

He let out a gentle chuckle, "Don't leave me," He smiled, "Not when I've just gotten you back."

This time, you had managed to squeak out a few words in response. "Thank you."

You watched as his eyes softened, his eyebrows falling into an expression of slight concern. "You've nothing to thank me for." He grumbled, you noticed how his cheeks turned the lightest shade of pink as he spoke, this fact illuminated only by the dull slivers of moonlight that crept in from the window. "It's my honor."

Before you could stop it, a small chuckle left your lips, almost forgetting your situation entirely. "Honored?" You questioned softly. You couldn't even manage yourself half of the time, how could anyone feel any sort of honored to pick up after you?

His brows furrowed, a small, almost frustrated sounding huff came from him before he began to speak. "The first time..." He mumbled, trailing off for a moment, though you already knew what he was trying to say.

When the nightmares began.

"You could have turned from me," He continued, gently tracing his thumb against your cheek, "Pushed me from you entirely. Told me to leave you even." He smiled wistfully, "You didn't though. You allowed me to stay, to hold you, to promise that you were safe, that I would always protect you. You bestowed me with that honor, and it is not one that I take lightly." He finished, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

If you knew any better, you could have easily begun believing that he carried some sort of magic within him, your eyes gently drooping closed as soon as his lips touched your skin. Though maybe that was the magic of him, how he could calm your mind so easily.

The deep, quietly thunderous hum that rolled through him reached your ears like a lullaby, and you could feel his lips curl into a soft smile against your forehead.

There were a million words caught in your throat. Thousands of 'how could I ever live without you', hundreds of 'thank you's' and countless 'I love you's' begging to be ripped from your lips, and just as it was all about to come pouring out at once, as you began to acknowledge the fact that once you began speaking, you would certainly be awake until the morning, it seemed that he read your mind, silencing your thoughts at once.

"Get some rest, love, we can speak of everything in the morning if you'd like." He paused for a moment as he pulled at the heavy, quilted blanket engulfing you both, "Even if you choose not to, I'll be right beside you... Always."

His words faded as you drifted closer to the edge of exhaustion. You knew of the possibility of another nightmare, the lingering possibility of those all too familiar tendrils of pain and horror stained pieces of your imagination reaching out for you once again tonight, but somehow, you held no fear.

The heat of his body flooded your senses as you finally fell asleep, his final words somehow even reaching you in your unconsciousness, or maybe they weren't even his words, at least not in the current sense. Maybe they were just the words he had ingrained in you ever since the first time he told you that he loved you, the words that wrapped around you, filling you with light in any moment you felt surrounded by darkness. Maybe he hadn’t even uttered a thing, maybe it was just your own mind, comforting your soul with the voice of him as you fell into sleep.

Either way, you found you didn’t mind, all you cared for was that his voice was with you, guiding you through whatever darkness you may happen to encounter the rest of the night.

You could hear him as your breath evened and your pulse slowed, feeling him hold your hand through the pitch blackness. Even as your own mind attempted to betray you, taunting you with memories of pain you couldn’t seem to outrun, you could hear him.

“I’m here my dear, I always will be.”

fall-ish time = crimson peak time always for me. i know it has been a while and this isn't a huge fic or anything, but i've been writing this one on and off since things got a bit weird for me mentally, i just needed some pointless, fluffy, reassurance for my brain being weird, and hey if it came from thomas sharpe that wouldn't be too bad either :) i hope you all are doing so so good and thank you all for all your nice messages recently, i promise i will respond to all of them so soon!!

check out my masterlist :)

#thomas sharpe x reader #thomas sharpe x female reader #thomas sharpe x f!reader #thomas sharpe x fem!reader #thomas sharpe comfort #thomas sharpe fluff #tom hiddleston x you #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe x y/n #no use of y/n #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston imagine #crimson peak fan fiction #crimson peak x reader #crimson peak #tom hiddleston x f!reader #tom hiddleston character x reader #thomas sharpe reader insert

[angeli-marco-writes]

Tom Hiddleston - Watch It Burn

A/N & WC - This was utterly self indulgent and I'm not sorry whatsoever. I do not know Tom, nor do I claim to: this is a work of fiction. Mary is fictional. 1.4k blurb.

Warnings - Social media relationship exposal (?), smut: unprotected sex, posessive sex, 18+.

Summary - When Tom gets a call from his publicist, he's loath to do what she asks, and once it's done, it's clear to see why.

After a long, late, languorous night, the very last thing you want is to be woken by your boyfriend Tom’s phone ringing. Again.

Why does this always happen after the most tiring nights? And why so damn early? Do Tom’s entourage not understand the concept of no calls till 10? And there’s so many: you’d think one of them has a clue. Between his agent, manager, stylist, publicist and just-in-case attorney you’d think one of them has a brain cell or a clock.

“Tommy…” you grumble, grabbing a pillow and slamming it onto your face, muffling the noise slightly.

He kisses your shoulder, “Sorry baby,” and rolls over, tugging the sheet with him, to answer. “Hello?”

The unfortunately distinguishable voice of his adenoidal publicist trills down the line. “Good morning!”

“What do you want, Mary?” he asks, his voice deep, laced with sleep. He’s just as tired as you are, though he’d never risk sounding inarticulate.

“Well that’s no way to talk to your wonderful publicist!”

You scoff, wonderful. She’s the worst one on his team, always so cheery! It’s a nightmare.

“Well you shouldn’t have woken me up then, should you?” he bites right back, only to pull a hand taut over his face. “I’m sorry, I’m just tired. Late night.”

His hand rubs your bare hip beneath the duvet at this, causing you to squirm away with muffled giggle, accidentally kicking him.

“Well don’t stay up so late! It’s nine a.m, Tom, come on. You couldn’t be this flaky if you were on set at the moment.”

“I’m so close to putting the phone down right now,” he warns.

“Okay okay. I need you to post on Instagram.”

He sits bolt upright, letting the sheet fall around him, his god-like abs on full display.

“You’re joking, aren’t you? This is in jest. I’m not going back into that internet hellscape. What do you take me for?” he demands.

“Well I’m sorry Tom”—yeah, and she really sounds it: you roll your eyes—“but you’re losing traction. You need more media attention and to build up your image. The fastest, most efficient way to do that is to post on Instagram. You, the dog, the effing skyline. I literally do not care. Just post something before you become a nobody.”

You roll over indecorously in bed, hearing him heave a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. You place your hand flat on his warm, toned stomach, calming him.

“Yeah fine. I’ll do it within the next week.”

“Today or tomorrow,” she chirps with a forced, nasally brightness, “or we’ll have to stage a headline.”

He doesn’t even grace her with a reply before ending the call, his face like thunder as he flops onto the pillows with a great huff.

“You’ve gotta go back on Instagram?” you inquire, trying to keep your voice soft.

“Yeah. Good grief, I hate it. That place is malignant.”

“I know, Tommy. Maybe I can take your mind off it…” you coo.

Your hand snakes lower, fingertips dancing over his exposed, semi-hard member.

He hisses through his teeth when you clasp him in your hand, “Baby, what are you doing?”

“Distracting you.”

Your lips are on his a moment later, a mess of teeth and tongues. He yanks you into his lap unabashedly and grips your hips tight as you begin to leave marks down his neck.

He takes all his frustration out on you, both in bed and a short while later in the shower. He fucks you carnally, whispering dirty things in your ear that heat your cheeks. He lets you bite his hand and his neck when the pleasure becomes overwhelming.

And then he shampoos your hair, tenderly kissing down your spine.

This man’s facets are utterly astonishing, even after all this time.

He kisses you languid and slow while you finish off in the shower, water lashing down on both your backs as you clean the exertion off one another.

Once you turn the water off and head out, Bobby takes your place in the bathroom, pawing at Tom’s legs after patiently waiting for his walk.

He picks Bobby up and gives him a good fuss before wiping the steam off the mirror.

“Baby, do I look sexy today?”

“You always look sexy,” you tell him, “but extra sexy today. Why?”

You don’t get a response from him, but don’t think too much of it. He sometimes comes out with weird questions like these, doubting himself and his looks and abilities. You just suppose this is another one of those times and you can show him how sexy he is once he comes back into the bedroom.

Tom, however, is taking his publicist's advice about starting a media storm. Not that she said that… but her threat about one of those awful staged headlines that’ll get him in the shit again implies he needs to make a splash, and soon.

Adorable Bobby on his hip, towel tied low, phone looking tiny in his big, veined hand, heavenly abs tensed, golden-auburn hair tousled in natural curls. Yeah, he thinks to himself, I do look handsome. Sexy, even.

So, in a mood so unlike himself, he snaps a couple of pics, and after putting Bobby down and sending him out to his basket with a chew toy and a promise of a walk in a few, he flicks through and finds the only one he really likes: the one that truly shows off his Herculean, god-like stature.

Tom, however, doesn’t look too closely in order to prevent him deleting them all. And nor do you when he shows it to you.

“Christ you look good,” you whisper, hand carding through his curls and tugging. Hard.

That’s all the incentive he needs to click post after drafting whatever brief, witty caption he came up with on the walk from the bathroom.

When his phone blows up, he decides to ignore it. He’s been absent from social media for well over a year so this is to be expected. He also silences it for a few hours: texts, calls, the lot.

He just goes about his domestic life with you: cooking brunch, walking Bobby, reading, writing, dancing around the living room.

Until, a short while later, his landline phone rings. His publicist, again.

“Tom. Do you realise what you posted? Or— or, even better! Do you realise what the hell you’ve done?!” she screeches.

“Mary,” he says calmly, trying to keep all condescension from his tone, “I did what you asked. I posted, I got attention. What now?”

“Christ, okay. Clearly you’ve no clue. Open up your Instagram right now.”

You’re beside him, your face cold with panic as you fumble for your phone and pull the photo up.

Taking a closer look, your heart patters, jerks and stops. Then it begins an erratic rate a moment later. “Oh… shit.”

You show Tom and watch the palpable horror wash over him. “No. No no no no no.”

“Eloquent as ever, Tom,” she deadpans in that shrill, falsely bright tone. “Fix it on your end. I’ll get started on damage control.”

“I’m so sorry, Mary,” he bleats, “I’m deleting it now.”

She puts the phone down with a despairing sigh.

Tom’s baby blue gaze meets yours, stress broiling there like a storm.

“What have we done, baby?”

You chuckle mirthlessly as you reply, “Broken the internet.”

And you have. Because the details in the picture are impossible to construe any other way.

Handprints, big and small, on the glass of the shower; hickeys on Tom’s milky neck; actual teeth marks on the webbing of his hands, scratches from you raking your nails down his muscular chest.

You may as well have written ‘Tom had sex’ in the steamy mirror for all the obviousness it presents.

“And what the ever-loving fuck do we do?” he asks, head falling to his hands as his heart rate picks up.

Unsure of what else to do, you take his face in your hands and turn him to face you. Your eyes lock with his, and you search them for every emotion inside, layered and battling. Eventually as you hold his gaze, trust wins over... underlined by lust, and love clouding it all.

As casually as you can, you brush a kiss to his temple, his nose, his lips, and let an easy smirk overtake you. “We watch it burn.”

#tom hiddleston #thomas william hiddleston #twh #twhiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston blurb #tom hiddleston oneshot #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston characters #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston x f reader #tom hiddleston x fem reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston drabble #tom hiddleston imagine

[urlocalmilfloverr]

"Yes, I was a fool" Odin looked down in disappointment "to think you were ready"

"Father" Loki interrupted before Odin practically screamed at him

"Hey!" Y/n was hidden behind the door listening to everything but she couldn't stand there and listen any longer "I don't think you should speak to him like that!"

"I beg your pardon" Odin marches towards her expecting her to move in fear but she doesn't

"You treat him like shit Odin! He doesn't deserve that no one does!"

"And who are you to speak to me like that! I am your King" He spat

"You're no King of mine" she walked over to Loki

"Why did you do that?" Loki spoke his voice soft and quiet

"I've seen how he treats you Loki, it's not fair" the tears in her eyes were visible but they hadn't fallen "you're not a monster"

"Guards!" Odin gestures for them to come in "take this pathetic little girl and get rid of her!"

"Lady Y/n!" Thor joins her side "Father that is very unnecessary"

"Is it?" he points to his son. His expression becoming angrier

"She's right you know" Thor finally spoke "he's still young" Y/n hugs Loki as she sees the guards approach her

"Y/n!" Loki couldn't let go of her hand "why would you do that! Why?"

"I love you Loki"

New playlist:

#marvel mcu #marvel #mcu fic #mcu #loki laufeyson #mcu loki #tom hiddelston loki #loki x reader #loki #thor odinson #thor x reader #thor #odin #chris hemsworth #tom hiddelson #thomas william hiddleston #hiddlestoners #fem reader #loki x female reader #thor x female reader #Spotify

[holdmytesseract]

Symphonies

CEO!Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Request: “Can I request this,  mafia tom and innocent reader. He goes to a concert where she is playing the piano. Love at first sight for him and she doesn't have a clue about who he is. Maybe he pursues her gently. Pretty please ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️” - Requested by @cynic-spirit​  :)

Summary: Thomas William Hiddleston is Britains most famous CEO and got declared as the hottest bachelor around. He had a lot of women coming and going in his life, but then he sees you, playing the piano at a concert and is completely swept off his feet.

Warnings: uhh... I’d say none, except maybe a few typos?

Word Count: 1,3k

a/n: I know, the request says mafia!Tom, but @cynic-spirit​ and I changed it to CEO!Tom, ‘cause I realised that this whole Mafia world isn’t my cup of tea. But CEO!Tom was quite challenging as well, but a challenge is always good! I just hope you like! I tried my best! 🧡 And sorry again, that it took me that long...

Tom looked in the rear-view mirror of his black Jaguar, watching the London traffic behind him. He was on his way to the Royal Opera House, which was located in Convent Garden in the heart of London. The Royal Opera House was the most eminent British opera. And tonight, there was a concert, to which the CEO of the biggest company in whole Britain was invited. Thomas Hiddleston. It was a name who everyone knew. A name, who just got stuck in the brain. The experienced boss of 'Hiddleston Enterprises' was well-known. Not just among business people and tabloids - oh no... He caught the eyes of the ladies as well. After all got Thomas William Hiddleston declared as the hottest bachelor in Britain. Nevertheless didn't find Tom the right woman yet. Of course he had a few flings here and there, but nothing serious. After all, wanted a lot of them just his money or a night to remember, not his heart. Usually, women came to him, not the other way round. Well, not this night... Thomas parked his Jaguar and got out, straightening his brown suit and tie. A look on his watch told him that he was right on time. After locking his car, he made his way inside the Royal Opera House and talked to a few business partners he knew, before he took his seat in the main hall. Of course, had the CEO one of the best seats reserved, from which he had the perfect view of the stage. The concert began just five minutes later. It was a classic music concert and consisted of different artists, who played different instruments. Tom found himself enjoying this concert. The artists did an amazing job and mastered their instruments to perfection. But the last performance of the evening swept Tom completely off his feet, left him speechless. A young woman stepped on the stage. Y/H/C hair, innocent Y/E/C eyes. She wore a beautiful white dress, which ended shortly above her knees. Flower patterned lace adorned its arms. It hugged her form perfectly, but not in an inappropriate way. Quite the opposite... The dress wasn't extraordinary or pretentious, no... But it almost seemed like it was made for her. Tom's eyes raked over the young woman and stopped at her breathtaking eyes. Immediately, he noticed how nervous she was. He could see it clearly. The way her eyes flickered nervously through the mass of people in front of her and how she fumbled her hands. A nervous habit? Apparently, she hadn't done this often. Play the piano in front of a big audience. It was cute, thought Tom. She sat down on the little chair in front of the grand, white piano and started to play. If the CEO wouldn't have been intrigued at the moment he firstly laid eyes upon her, he would've been now. The way her fingers danced over the keyboard and the music which urged to his ears left him breathless. He just couldn't take his eyes off her. Then it happened... She looked up, coincidentally in Tom's direction - and their eyes met. For Thomas, it felt like he got hit full speed by a truck. His heart leaped in his throat, was beating faster than ever. An audible gasp left his lips and his head started to spin. He saw how the young woman struggled to keep her playing up. She quickly looked away again and tried to focus on her performance, but it was obvious that Tom's eyes on her made her nervosity even worse. Suddenly, everything around the CEO faded. There was only him, the breathtaking woman and the music. Was this what people called love at first sight? Her performance ended unfortunately way too soon for Tom. The clapping of the rest of the people ripped him out of his trance. It was the moment Tom decided, that he couldn't leave this building, before meeting the woman who had stolen his heart within minutes. No one did that to him before. No one made him feel like this before. So, Tom approached her on the 'after party' of the concert. He grabbed two glasses of champagne and made his way over to where she stood. She was currently talking with one of the other artists, smiling. The bachelor put on his most charming smile and interrupted their conversation, gentlemanly but demanding. "If I may be so rude and interrupt this conversation..." The two women turned their heads towards him. His eyes landed on the mysterious piano player, making the other woman - who knew of course who stood in front of her clear that he was interested in her conversational partner. She nodded. "Of course, Sir." And left, while the chosen woman looked at him with widened eyes. Her heart started to beat faster. That was the man who looked at her through her whole performance. "I never saw someone playing the piano so well before." Tom said, giving her an intense look. He sensed her uncertainty and knew, that she recognised him. His words made her blush immediately and she nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "O-Oh, um, t-thank you, Sir." How cute it was, how nervous he made her, thought Tom. He smiled his charming smile, eyes wandering towards the second champagne glass in his hands. "Would you like some champagne, Miss...?" "Y/N. I-I mean Y/N Y/L/N." She smiled nervously, taking the glass Tom offered her. "I am usually not a person who drinks a lot of alcohol, but why not. Thank you, Mr. Uh... You didn't say your name yet, did you?" Tom chuckled, shaking his head. She apparently didn't know him - and he loved it. "No, darling. I didn't." Darling... That nickname made Y/N blush all over again. "I'm Thomas Hiddleston. Tom for you." "Tom..." Y/N rolled his name off her tongue and damn sounded it good. Tom could get definitely used to her, saying his name... "Thank you, again." "Of course, darling." Tom took a sip from the expensive sparkling wine. "Where did you learn to play the piano so well?" Y/N took a careful nip of the alcohol herself. "My dad, uh, taught me how to play when I was six. It became quickly my passion. I kept on practicing, learning different songs to play and how to improve my playing." Thomas noticed how her eyes shone more with every word she said about her passion. It was beautiful. "You learned to play with six years?" She nodded, smiling softly. "Yes, Si- Tom." "That's absolutely astonishing." The bachelor downed his glass. "Would you mind giving me a private concert sometime?" "A-A private concert?" Y/N squeaked up. "Yes, I'd love that." But before, I'd like to take you out for dinner." "D-Dinner?" "If you want to, of course." He smiled. "You piqued my interest heavily, Y/N, I am honest. You're a wonderful woman and I'd like to get to know you better." Y/N's eyes widened, her cheeks getting rosy again. She felt utterly flustered, but also flattered. No doubt was Tom a quite attractive man. And the way he spoke made her knees turn into jelly. The CEO on the other side was totally attracted by Y/N's seemingly sheer innocence and shyness. She was so pure. Nothing compared to the women he had dated before. She didn't know him. She wasn't lured by his money. "T-Thanks, I, uh... Yes, o-okay." Tom gave her another charming smile and offered his arm. "Shall we escape this, then?" Y/N bit her lip, looked at Tom, then his arm and back, before she looped her arm through his with a soft smile. "Yes." Together, Thomas and Y/N left the Royal Opera House and went to have dinner. This one, insignificant concert was meant to change the CEO's life forever...

a/n: A thank you goes out to @youlightmeupfinn​ ! She gave me a few helpful tips on how to write CEO!Tom! :)

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfiction #ceo!tom hiddleston #ceo!tom hiddleston x reader

[lokiskitten]

hello i love ur works omg idk if ur still accepting reqs or suggestions regarding ur stepdad! tom imagines but what abt an imagine in which tom attempts to end the secret affair between him and the reader and then the reader is heartbroken so she gets herself a boyfriend which makes tom jealous then smut ?? idk HAHAHA tyyy

Tom Hiddleston | forbidden behavior

Stepdad!Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

plot : around a week after your stepfather called it off regarding the bond you two had developed, you are caught hanging out with a couple of friends in a café. Noticing his presence outside of the building, you decide to join him only to receive the most peculiar lecture of your life.

warnings : stepdad!trope, stepdad x stepdaughter intercourse, jealousy, slight physical abuse, kissing, crotch groping, handjob.

A week had passed since your stepfather had decided to end the relationship the two of you had progressively developed behind your mother’s back. You obviously took this as betrayal, an unnecessary decision which easily led you to develop hatred for the older man- especially after he had managed to convince you that the moments you spent together filled him with as much bliss as it did for you. But these times were now over, and your first mission easily became to avoid him as soon as you penetrated inside of your own home. Before your mother, both you and Tom were obviously forced to make an effort in order to keep your secret on the low- scared that any suspicious behavior would lead your past to come flashing under the lights of the projectors.

On a warm Friday evening, you had decided to stop by a café with a couple of your friends in order to celebrate the end of the week. Within this group stood Trystan, a boy you had finally agreed on offering a chance after breaking up with Thomas. He was nice and well educated, a mass of long black hair covering the top of his head as well as his neck. The young man also brought home plenty of nice grades, which could only be a green flag to your high expectations holding self- adding up to how he had offered to help with your mathematics homework after school. Now this was a proposition you jumped on immediately, but which you knew wouldn’t be able to take place within the walls of your house- and that due to your dragon of a stepfather.

Being too busy laughing with your classmate, you hadn’t noticed Tom’s presence outside of the café, his body leant against his car as he watched you fall for someone else. In fact, he had been following you on your way back home from college nearly every day of the week- satisfying the weird obsession he held for your younger self and easing his crippling anxiety and possessive behaviors. Seeing you with another man couldn’t have driven him more upset, his fists clenching out of pure anger within the pockets of the suit he wore for work. Minutes passed by, and the older man remained leant against his car whilst growing more and more impatient regarding the sweet words and touches you appeared to offer the black haired boy. These touches he knew so well were meant to be his, and this overall sight easily led the adult to regret ever breaking it off with you.

When your head finally looked up in order to divert through the open doors of the café, your heart tightened upon witnessing the stern silhouette of your stepfather waiting against his car. Embrassement and fear progressively started to fill your organism, face decomposing whilst your friends continued to laugh with one another. Thankfully, it didn’t take long until Trystan noticed the way your mood had unexpectedly yet drastically changed. “Hey, Y/n?? You’re okay?” He asked on a concerned tone, his empathy leading your stomach to grow a couple of more knots at the thought of your stepdad witnessing such a scene. “Yeah..I’m fine. I think I’ll be going home now.” you responded politely, catching all of your mates off guard though none of them did a thing to hold you back. They could tell you appeared sick and pale.

“Take care.” Lizzie purred out as you swung your bag over your shoulder, the group’s curious eyes following your silhouette which exited through the door of the café only to end up joining an older man who stood nowhere far from here. Swallowing your saliva, you attempted your best to keep a rather proud expression on your face in order to push Tom a bit closer to the edge. You were aware that he absolutely despised it whenever you held an attitude. “Hi.” Your briefly said, not fighting the situation as your feet immediately started to lead you towards the other side of the car. “Who’s that guy you were with?” Tom immediately asked as he got into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind him. You mimicked his gestures, and the two of you were now sat in the front of his vehicle.

“Just a friend. Why is it important anyway?” You answered harshly, leading your stepdad’s anger to rise above the edge. “Right.” He responded coldly, both of his hands firmly holding onto the steering wheel as he began to drive away from the café. Silently, you watched the way his veins popped out of his skin due to the pressure applied onto his palm- the way his jaw clenched easily matching with his overall tensed and aggressive behavior. Without showing any form of weakness, you simply decided to behave as if you were indifferent face to this situation. You couldn’t exactly tell where Tom was taking the two of you, but even after your breakup you still trusted him well enough not to bring any harm to your fragile mind and body.

You felt surprised and confused to watch him park his car in a nearly empty parking lot, the upset male obviously seeking intimacy for the peculiar lecture he was about to give you. But again, he remained unexpectedly silent, his jaw and chest being the only parts of his body which remained in action. He couldn’t appear to find proper words, though was he truly seeking any? Gathering your courage to take the first step, your lips parted shyly, a single word barely getting enough time to come out of your mouth before you were violently cut off by your stepfather. “Tom-“ you began, body jumping due to the man’s unexpected and quite violent reaction. His palm had collided with the steering wheel, as if the only sound of your voice made him remember about what he had seen back at the café. It was the first time you ever saw him behave in such a way. Usually, he was always calm, friendly. Anger wasn’t an emotion he often felt the need to summon.

“What were you thinking?!” He blamed, the accusations penetrating your ears and leaving your poor mind clueless regarding what he was referring to. All you could tell was that his tone carried hatred, and that therefore his overall body was probably full of this exact same wrath. “Tell me, what were you thinking?” He repeated, this time on a slightly softer tone though this unwelcome touch of dominance remained. Pressing his head back against the seat as air escaped his lips, you finally found the strength to step forward and explain yourself. “He’s just a friend from college. He doesn’t stand up next to you.” You promised, the words escaping your lips as if you two had never put an end to your inappropriate relationship in the first place. “I think about you every day. I think of us.” You added, growing hopeful face to how your words appeared to progressively calm him down.

Tom’s head turned towards yours, ocean blue eyes locking with your unique orbs as the empty parking lot made it feel as if the world around you had stopped. The way his chest moved up and down as he breathed led something to rise within your soul- a sensation you hadn’t felt for over a week... ever since he had decided to put an end to your affair. His veiny hand moved up to your cheek, fingers brushing against your cheekbone before he took the initiative to delicately push a bit of your hair behind your ear. “I don’t want you to see this boy again... ever. You’re mine. My property.” He spoke gently though asserted dominance, allowing you to loose yourself in his soothing tone. However, his head was soon to tilt to the left, his upper body moving closer to yours in order to steal a kiss.

You understood the signals and moved forward as well, his hand still on your cheek as your lips collided against one another’s. His jaw roamed air as Tom took the initiative to intensify the kiss, enjoying this moment after he had been craving the taste of your flesh ever since he took the stupid decision that was ending it all between the two of you. Within a matter of weeks, you had managed to make your own stepfather crazy about you and your aura, your body, flaws and qualities. And whilst Tom continued to enjoy the taste of your lips, your nostrils were filled with bliss as they were finally allowed to breath in his cologne again, a smell you had terribly missed. No scent could’ve potentially replaced the infamous perfume that was your stepfather’s and which you had grown used and attached to through your multiple intercourses.

Growing more and more heated, you took the initiative to slide your hand down until his crotch, fingers tightening against the thick material of his suit which allowed you to feel his prominent bulge through his pants. Tom groaned out of satisfaction as you began to massage his flaccid length which had yet to harden through his trousers, hips buckling upwards just so slightly as if his crotch desired to remain stuck to your palm forever- and that through the help of a denser contact. The warmth which emitted from his groin felt delightful under your bare fingers, a sensation which could only make you crave for more. And so did he. Keeping his lips against yours, your stepfather proceeded to slide both his hands down between his thick thighs, digits unbuttoning and unzipping his pants in a rush which finally allowed you to penetrate within his intimacy.

Sliding past the elastic of his briefs, your hand was soon to come in contact with the slightly hardened member which resided down Tom’s pants. This once he moaned, the vibrations penetrating inside of your moist cavity before his tongue slid inside of your mouth. You were soon to hold up a rather satisfying pace, rubbing up and down his shaft and stopping only when you felt the need to offer him some extra pleasure by giving attention to his testicles. The male broke the buccal contact to collide against his seat, eyelids shutting close as you carried on leading his cock towards orgasm. His member had now hardened properly, revealing his true and generous length which had recently been pulled out of his pants. Just like before, Tom found pleasure in thrusting his hips upwards and participating to the intercourse a bit more than he already was.

“That little boy of yours.. is his cock this big?” Your stepdad asked through seethed teeth, having trouble finding his words due to his clenched abdomen and twitching nutsack. “No...” you responded, being slightly out of breath due to the heated kiss you shared earlier. Hearing these satisfying words coming out of your mouth, the older man couldn’t help but raise his shirt in a hurry before white semen began to sprint out of his overly sensitive urethra, his shaft twitching and contracting in order to propel the sperm out of his crotch. You bit down onto your lower lip face to such a delightful sight, hand moving down to his testicles in order to praise them one last time. This move made your stepfather shiver. You two had finally found yourselves, and it wasn’t any time soon that the older man would ever agree to let go of you again.

“And as you can see... I’m not dead”- all jokes but yes, I am alive and giving the people what it wants😭 I’m sorry if it isn’t very good tho🥺 I hope y’all are taking care!

taglist : @theaudacitytowrite @devilsuga @bucky-soldat @winteralpine @fa-me @ineffablefanic @delightfulheartdream @rosie-posie08 @marygut1407 @wildxwidow @tabea3 @lokistoriesreblog @arzennn

#marvel #loki #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson fluff #loki laufeyson imagine #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x you #marvel imagine #Tom Hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston imagine #Tom Hiddleston fanfic #stepdad!Tom Hiddleston #lokiskitten #Tom Hiddleston fluff #Tom Hiddleston smut #Tom Hiddleston au #stepdad au #Thomas sharpe #Robert laing #james Conrad

[glxssylaufey]

hello! i hope you are still taking requests!

can i request a oneshot with tom hiddleston where him and the reader are a already a couple and they into a pillow & tickle fight then it turns into a smut? (i rlly love fics with fluff to smut) you may use these prompts that i found!

"quit stealing all the pillows!"

"stop that! i'm ticklish!"

"can i kiss you?"

"i want you right now."

"all mine."

i hope this isn't a lot, i just really love your fics and keep writing! 🦋

ahh thank you sm, i’m so glad you enjoy my writing, love! <3

AND OK THIS IS ADORABLE, you and tommy will always help each other wind down after a long day with cuddles and passion. i feel like he’d be super sweet and gentle with you all night and then he’ll start to get super playful and eventually… well you know. ;)

i hope this is what you were hoping for! enjoy! ❤️

staying in [tom hiddleston]

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙. ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙. ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

summary: tom hiddleston x fem!reader ; you and your loving boyfriend enjoy a relaxing night at home with one another. little did you realize, the night was only just beginning.

warnings: smut (18+), minors DNI, very fluffy, swearing, fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, daddy kink, praise kink

a/n: my dearest apologies for the long wait! i hope you enjoy! requested by: @aestheticallyholland also, keep reading until the end to find my play on words for the title hehe

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙. ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙. ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

The sweet aroma of freshly brewed tea swam through the house as you roamed back and forth in the kitchen. You elevated yourself onto your tippy-toes to retrieve two small cups from the tall cabinet. Seeing how the pair of cups sat neatly on the top shelf away from your reach, you let out a sigh. Of course, you knew who would be the only one tall enough in the house to reach that absurdly high shelving.

“Tom!” you shouted.

“Yes?” he called out from the next room.

“Come help me!” you exclaimed.

Tom was your darling boyfriend that you had met through a mutual friend. You still remember that night your friend dragged both you and Tom to that art museum with them. The both of you grew closer and closer with every conversation or text to where eventually you were inseparable. Even to this day, you smile remembering the day Tom asked you to be his.

“Someone needs rescuing?” Tom quips with a smile, striding into the kitchen. Yup. You had thought to yourself. If anyone would have legs long enough to reach the top shelf, it’s definitely him.

“Absolutely!” you say, playing along. “I don’t know how I’d ever survive if I don’t get my cup of tea right this instance.”

Tom laughs and walks past you to effortlessly pick the two teacups from the cabinet and place them in your hands.

“My lady.” he says with a wink. You giggle.

“Oh, my hero.” you fake a swoon before setting the china cups on the counter. As you being pouring you and your beloved a cup of tea, you feel his body press against your back gently.

His long arms snake around your waist to pull you closer into him. You feel his lips press into your neck, pecking kisses all over your skin.

“The movie is starting, you know.” Tom informs you. You hum slightly, feeling his lips form a smile in the nape of your neck.

“Well, you wanted tea, mister.” you laughed, turning to present him with his cup. “Ta-da!” you exclaim, making Tom chuckle.

“Oh, what would I do without you?” he sighs, taking the cup into his hands before leaning down to press a kiss into your forehead. You smile before going to reach for you own cup.

“Hm, I don’t know. Brew your own tea?” you joke, taking a small sip. “Needs more honey.” you say, turning around and placing the cup onto the surface. Tom rolls his eyes dramatically, setting his cup on the counter.

“And I need your company.” he states slyly. Before you could question what he meant, Tom scoops you into his arms causing a squeal to escape your lips.

“Thomas!” you giggle as he starts carrying you bridal style into the living room. “You wanted tea!”

“Yes but I’m afraid I’ll go crazy if you spend another second away from me.” Tom laughs, placing you down onto the couch. He then quickly crawls on top of you to press open mouthed kisses into your neck once more.

“I was only gone for ten minutes!” you claim.

“Exactly.” he laughs. “You’re incredibly slow.”

“Hey!” you say, grabbing a pillow to playfully wack Tom in the side with. He turns to look at you with a devilish smile.

“Oh, you’ll regret that!” he exclaims before lunging at you to tickle you, causing you to burst out into tears of laughter.

“Tom! Stop that! I’m ticklish!” you laugh uncontrollably, trying to push him off you.

“Don’t mess with the God of Mischief, darling!” he says, before attacking your neck again with nips and pecks, his hands still mercilessly tickling at your sides.

Hooking your legs around his slim waist, you jump and pounce on Tom, sending him onto his back. You pin his arms above his head, looking into his crystal blue orbs.

“Or what?” you tease, raising an eyebrow. Tom stare deeply into your eyes, taking note of how stunning you appeared above him. Tom allows his head to fall back ontoo the couch, letting him lay completely under your touch.

After a moment of breath, Tom begins to grin. You watch as his piercing eyes rake over your form.

“What is it?” you ask softly. Tom brings his gaze back to your eyes and sighs joyfully.

“You’re just so beautiful.” he whispers, causing you to blush. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, looking up at you with pleading eyes. You couldn’t bare to resist him any longer.

With your grip still locked on Tom’s wrists, you bow your head to connect your lips with his. As the kiss deepens, you feel him slip his tongue into your mouth, making you moan in pleasurable surprise.

Tom begins to slowly sit up, allowing you to slide further into his lap. You move your hands from his wrists to cup his face while his arms drop to his side. You then feel Tom’s hands slither up your legs to caress your thighs, making you squirm. When the kiss breaks, his eyes are immediately connected with yours.

“Already writhing under my touch, Y/N?” he questions quietly. You blush, looking away in embarrassment.

“No, darling. You know better.” he corrects you, brings his fingers under your chin to lead your face back to in front of his. “Never be ashamed of the pleasure I give you.” he says before bringing you into another kiss. This one was shorter. You disconnected from his lips quickly to speak, still tasting him on your tongue.

“Tommy…” you whisper, your voice almost cracking.

“Hm?” he hums.

“T-the movie.” Is all you could trust yourself to say. You feel him groan against your skin, his hands traveling up your spine to rub soothing circles over your back.

“That can wait. I want you right now.” he insisted. His suggestive words go right to your core as you begin to feel yourself become wet. One of his hands then slowly drop to the bottom of your shirt. He takes the fabric and slowly begins to move it upwards.

“May I?” Tom asks kindly.

“Please.” you whisper, lifting your arms to allow him to undress you. Tom gently discards your shirt onto the floor before removing his own, revealing his broad shoulders and long torso.

You place your hands on Tom’s chest to feel his bare skin against yours, allowing you to feel closer to him. You then press small kisses across his chest while you sneak your hand down to undo Tom’s belt. Though he was swift to stop you.

“Ah, ah. Ladies first, my love.” he tells you as he grabs your hands to halt their movements. He lifts you up slightly to place you flat onto your back on the couch. You sigh in pleasure as you feel Tom kiss his way from your neck down to your clothed breasts.

Both his hands travel up your stomach to knead your breasts through your bra. You groan, relishing in your boyfriend’s praising touch. One of his hands snake towards the back of your bra, skillfully unclasping the straps. Once the lacy fabric falls, Tom’s eyes roamed all over you body with want and hunger. He took note of how the cool air hit your nipples, causing them to harden for him. Tom hums in appreciation, gently pawing at your tits.

“You’re so stunning.” he says in pure awe. He lowers his head down to capture one of your firm nipples into his hot mouth. He sucks on it gently, making you arch your back into his mouth. Your head falls back as he returns the same attention to your other nipple. You weave your fingers through Tom’s light and wavy locks, giving them a tug every so often. His warm and wet tongue felt heavenly in comparison to the chilled room. His teeth grazed your sensitive flesh, making you buck your hips up into him. You were absolutely craving that friction.

“P-please Tom, I need more.” you whisper. Tom glances at you before giving you a devious smile.

“As you wish.” he says simply before sinking down the couch further towards your burning heat. His hands follow, gently caressing down your bare tummy to the band of the pair of sweatpants you had worn for the night in. 

Tom then hooks his fingers in the hem of your pants before looking up at you for your approval with his puppy dog eyes. Although this was not the first time you and Tom had been intimate with one another, you still felt safe and comforted whenever Tom asked your permission for anything and everything. You soften your eyes and give him a soft nod. Tom’s smile grows impossibly wider before he places one last final kiss on your stomach right bellow your belly button.

He removes both your pants and panties in one swift movement, tossing them near by your shirt. Tom takes in the sight of your glistening pussy, ready to be touched. He brings his thumb down onto your sensitive clit, rubbing small circles into your body. You moan out in ecstasy upon feeling his fingers finally touch your needy body.

“Mmm.” Tom practically growls, admiring the sight of your bare cunt. “All mine.” he whispers. With no further warning, Tom dives into your warmth, devouring your dripping pussy.

“Oh, fuck!” you mewl out, arching your back off the couch. This spurs on Tom, his clever tongue beginning to work faster.

You pull at his hair, causing him to moan into your pussy. He ate you like a man starved, his talented tongue licking up every last drop of your sweet juice. You grind yourself onto face, his hands giving your thighs a gentle squeeze before he lifts up his head once again.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and make a mess of my face, Y/N?” he asks in that delicious british accent of his. “Do you want my fingers?” he questions.

“Yes! Yes please, may I please take your fingers into my pussy?” you moan out. Tom smiles against you before pushing a single digit into you. Your moans echo through the house as Tom quickens his pace. He’s quick to find your sweet spots, causing you to push yourself further down onto his fingers.

“You are hugging me so tightly, Darling. I think I ought to stretch you out.” he whispers sinfully before adding in another finger. Once they settle deep inside you he scissors his fingers inside of you ever so slightly.

“Thank you!” you cry. “Your fingers feel amazing, daddy.” you say. Tom grins, his fingers starting to pump in and out of you. He hits your g spot perfectly, making you impossibly wetter.

“I can feel how close you’re growing.” he claims, looking up into your eyes with darkness. “Go ahead, love, cum for me. Show me how much you love my fingers.”

“Yes, daddy! I’m cumming!” you moan. With that, the coil in your stomach snapped with intense pleasure, the wave of your orgasm rushing over you completely.

Tom’s fingers slowed to let you ride out your high. Once his fingers stilled, he pressed one last kiss to your clit before slipping his soaked digits from your sopping pussy.

“Look at this mess you’ve made.” Tom says with a devilish smile. “Go ahead, my girl. Clean it up.” he tells you before bringing his dripping fingers to your mouth. You open obediently, moaning once you taste yourself on the thickness of his fingers.

Your tongue swipes and rolls around his fingers as you made sure to suck on them for good measure. Tom watched you intently, his teeth bared and mouth slightly open while he sighed deeply.

“Fuck, I love you.” he said breathlessly before bringing your face in to kiss him. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting all of you at once. Once this kiss broke, he immediately brought his lips down to your breasts.

“May I make you feel even better?” he pleads with a gentle tone, his eyes asking you for permission to bed you. “Please, Y/N, let me take you.” he whispers into your ear while his hands continued to massage your sides and hips.

As he sucked marks and hickies into your skin you moaned slightly at the sensation of his talented mouth.

“Oh, Tom! Yes! You make it feel so good.” you whisper, your head dizzy with euphoria. Tom stops to glance up at your eyes with a smile.

“Please, I need you.” you nod with a whine.

“Don't worry, my dear. I'm here to keep you happy." he reassures you with a sweet tone. After pecking one last kiss onto your belly, Tom sits up onto his knees to unfasten his belt buckle. The sound of metal clanking filled the room as you continued to watch him.

Once Tom dropped his jeans along with his boxers, you witnessed his hard cock spring into action and bob up and down obscenely. You could feel yourself practically salivating over the delicious sight of his twitching member. You could spot a small pearl of precum leaking from his red and angry tip. Tom must've caught you staring because he chuckled to himself, snapping you out of your daydreaming.

“See something you like, love?” he leases, his voice smooth and deep. You nod eagerly, sitting up to allow yourself a better view of your godly boyfriend.

“Mm, yes sir.” you hum, giving him a wink. “This view just might be even better than that plump backside of yours.” you teased, making Tom scoff with a smile.

“What a tease.” he laughs before, hooking his hands on each of your thighs to yank you closer to him. Your wet entrance pressed against the tip of his cock, causing you to moan out from the sudden contact.

“Do you want me, Y/N?” he asks, placing his hands on either side of your head to position himself above you.

“Always.” you say truthfully.

“Show me.” he requests.

After a brief pause, you give him a mischievous smirk. You quickly wrap your legs around his waist and pushed your heels into his lower back, forcing his cock to slide inside of you.

You and Tom both throw your heads back in a moan, flooding in the passion you had for one another. Tom pulled your body closer to his so he was completely flush against you, his cock nestled deep inside your pussy. He could feel you pulsing around him, begging him to move.

“You are perfection, fuck!” Tom moaned out as he pulled out completely only to slam back inside you. Your back arches off the couch due to the snap in his hips.

“Yes! Thank you, daddy!” you cry. “Oh, yes, p-please make me cum, daddy, please.” you babbled on, his body driving you near insanity.

“Shh, shh, relax. I’ll get you there, it’s alright.” he whispered before leaning down to gently kiss a tear that had fallen down your cheek. “Now be a good girl and let the whole neighborhood know exactly who is making you feel this damn good.”

With that, Tom set a merciless pace of harsh thrusts against your softness. The sound of skin slapping skin flooded the room, quickly followed by Tom’s grunts and your moans.

“Fuck, Tom, feels so good! Please don’t stop!” you moan, wrapping your arms around his strong neck for leverage.

“Believe me baby, I wouldn’t dream of it.” he grunted, hips still rolling deep into you. You could feel every ridge and vein rubbing inside your walls, hitting places inside of you that you didn’t even know existed.

Your nails dug into his broad shoulders, making him hiss into your ear in bliss. His thrusts began to falter, signaling that he was getting close. You pull yourself closer to Tom, wrapping your legs around his strong hips even tighter.

Tom settles from his hands down to rest on his forearms, connecting his chest with your own. You could feel his rapid heartbeat against your sweaty chest as he lowered his head to kiss you.

You bring one of your hands to tangle into his dark blonde locks, deepening the kiss. You both moan into each other’s mouths, adoring the feeling of being so deeply connected to each other. With one particularly hard thrust, you scream in ecstasy when his dick ruts into your g spot. Tom smirks into your neck, knowing he just found the spot. His thrusts quicken, being sure to hit that spot deep inside you every time.

“Fuck! Oh fuck, daddy, I’m close!” you cry. “Please let me cum, I’ve been such a good girl for you, daddy!” your filthy words fill Tom’s ears, making him growl.

“Not yet, darling. Hold on just a little longer.” he gasps, his thrusts becoming sloppier. You knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“T-Tom, please!” You feel yourself tighten around him, making Tom moan and give one last sharp thrust before spilling inside you.

“Fuck yes, Y/N, cum!” he moans, his cock stilled in your pussy. You scream, the coil in your tummy snaps, making your orgasm flood over his cock. You could feel Tom’s warm seed fill you up, making you gasp in pleasure. Once the room fell still again, so did Tom. He gently lowered himself onto you, careful not to crush you with his weight. You hugged him close to your bare front, rubbing his shoulders and back to soothe the red marks you had clawed into him. The two of you panted in the now silent room, recovering from your highs. You feel Tom begin to move to remove his now softening cock from your pussy. You quickly cease his movement by stopping his hips with your hand.

“Wait, please.” you whisper. Tom stops, afraid he hurt you, his worried eyes snapping to meet yours.

“Are you okay? Have I hurt you?” he asks, frantic. You place your hand on his cheek to calm his nerves.

“Shh, I’m okay... I just… miss you being this close.” you say, hugging him once more. “Can we stay like this just a little longer? Please, just stay inside me tonight.” you ask tiredly, certain you were already drifting off.

Tom smiles, and presses a lingering kiss into your temple before resting to cuddle you with his cock nestled inside you.

“Anything for you, my love. I’ll stay in tonight.”

#aesthetic #tom hiddleston #thomas william hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x reader smut #tom hiddleston fanfiction request #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston fluff #loki x reader #loki #smut #tom hiddleston smut

[lostalioth]

If you’re taking requests: being at an awards show with Tom Hiddleston and he knows you get hot for him rolling his shirt sleeves up to his elbows and putting his hands in his pockets, so he does it by accident but catches you staring and teases you in public and then fucks you in the car on the way home

𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ; 𝘵𝘰𝘮

summary: “get in the back, would you darling?” he tried his hardest to sound sweet even though all his words sounded like growls.

warnings: smut, rpf, tom x fem!reader, nicknames [dove, darling], reader calls tom tommy a lot, degradation kink, unprotected sex, sex in a car.

notes: I’m gonna be honest, tom doing those things also gets me going lmao! I have no idea why just him doing that is attractive. also I just realized I didn’t add the awards show part sorry!!

Thomas William Hiddleston is an unrelenting tease. He may be an unbelievably sweet gentleman, but he also can’t seem to help himself from teasing you anyway he can.

After dating for nearly four years, this man has learned everything that makes your gears turn.

Every little thing.

He teases you even when he doesn't intend to. You were stood in the parking lot of the small but fancy restaurant you just had dinner at with some mutual friends and your boyfriend. You and Tom stood with your back to the car you arrived in, and were chatting with your three friends. While one of them was babbling about how good the food was, you steal a glance at your tom by your side.

You feel your breath hitch in the back of your throat as your eyes are now glued to your boyfriend. It was such a simple action, he rolled his dress shirt sleeves up to his elbows and shoved his large hands into his trouser pockets. His chiseled face held a smirk, you knew he wasn’t intending to tease you. That was just one of those little things that over time the more he did, the more attractive you found it. It doesn’t help that he had been teasing you throughout the entire dinner. With little dirty comments in your ear, his fingers dancing up the skirt of your elegant dress.

As your friends are engrossed in a new conversation you push yourself against Tom’s side. “Tommy can we goo homee” you whine dragging the end of the last word out. Your hand rubs over his arm until you intertwine your fingers together.

All he has to do is look into your eyes. To see they are glazed over, and void of their original color as your pupils over took it. His cocky smirk only grew and you could tell his pants tighten around his cock. The both of you quickly excuse yourself saying how you have to get up early in the morning. Wetness was already pooling at your core, nearly ruining your panties. You were only growing more impatient.

Tom nearly peeled out of there, the minute the both of you were seated in his navy blue Jaguar. You were only halfway home, but the throbbing in your cunt was becoming unbearable. As Tom's gaze is fixated on the road in front of him, you begin to slide your hand over the obvious tent in his pants. He grows under your smooth hand. You can tell his knuckles begin to turn white, from the grip he has on the steering wheel.

“Dove just a few more minutes and we will be home” his voice sounded so deep it causes you to clench your thighs. “But i need you now Tom” you whimpered and continued to plam over his rock hard cock. You could tell as you pulled into the gate of your large shared home, he was beginning to become annoyed with his cock being confined.

Tom stops and parks the car only a half of the way up the long drive away. Your brows furrowed in confusion. You were only a few feet away from the house. Why was he stopping the car here? “Get in the back, would you darling?” He tried his hardest to sound sweet even though all his words sounded like growls.

You eagerly nod and climb your way over the console, and into the oddly spacious backseats. Tom gets out of the car and meets you in the back, coming in using the door so it was easier to climb between your legs.

“Look what you do to me dove, you like getting me all needy for you don’t you?” He teases as he slides his trousers down with his boxers. His aching cock is freed, slapping his still clothed abdomen. His reddened tip was already leaking pre cum. “You’re the one who was being a tease all through dinner Tommy” you groan in protest but proceed to slip your panties off from under your dress.

“How could I not, darling? You just look so pretty when you’re worked up” a deep chuckle escaped his lips as pushes his body further between your thighs, lifting the skirt of your dress up. The hot swollen head of his cock was now pressed between your slick folds. Your face was suddenly flushed as it seemed the temperature in the car was now exponentially hotter.

“You always get so slutty for me from a single little touch dove” he grins as he watches your face reaction to him slowly rubbing his cock through your folds. Just barely pressing his tip into your pussy. You hold back a whine, you were unbelievably needy by now.

“Such a pretty slut all for me”

After those sinful words left his mouth, his lips crashed into yours. You gasp into the heated kiss but shut your eyes and kiss back with the same amount of heat.

As your lips are busy occupying his you slide your hand between your bodies and slip his cock inside. He groans and smiles proudly into the kiss. “My needy little whore, can’t stand anymore teasing huh?” He questioned with a mumble against your plump lips. “Can’t get enough of your cock Tommy, just can’t, feel so good” you pull away from the kiss to let out a wanton moan, as Tom was now roughly rocking his hips against yours. He steadies himself by gripping onto your hip.

It took him not even a second for his bulbous tip to find that one spot. His thrusts quickly feel into pattern, abusing your g-spot. “Oh god, but you're a good little slut darling” he let out a low moan as the aching in his cock had subsided but the coil started to tighten already.

“All for you” you manage to nearly scream out in between your whines and moans. “That’s right dove. All mine. My whore. A pretty little slut drunk just for my cock” he growls. You clench down hard around him at the degrading names. They only fed the growing knot in the pit of your stomach. His hips slammed harder against yours now. The sound of his balls slapping against your ass and the mixture of both of your moans filled the heated car.

Both of you were fastly approaching your highs. Tom can tell you were close by the way you eagerly bounce back to meet his now sloppy thrusts. The closer Tom was getting the harder his grip on your hip was. “Cum with me darling, come on dove cum for me” he whispers softly as his lips now ghosted over your swollen ones.

“Yes Tommy, yes yes” your brain was starting to go fuzzy the closer your high came. You could barely comprehend what left your mouth by now. “Cum for me now darling” he had abandoned the degrading nicknames by now as his voice was filled with comfort and love, urging you on.

Your loud whine is muffled when Tom molds his lips over yours once again as your orgasms come crashing down on you both. The rocking of Tom's hips progressively slows down as the two of you come down from your highs.

With a small sigh and a short giggle you're the first to break the comfortable silence.

“You really couldn’t have just drove the rest of the way so we could’ve done this on our bed Tom”

note: yes I gave tom a jaguar what about it? also i managed to write a tom smut fic with no sir kink lmao.

#message received ☾☆ #➤ anonymous #tom hiddleston #real person fiction #actor fanfiction #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston blurb #tom hiddleston drabble #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston x f!reader #smut #married to tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston request #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston rpf #actor rpf #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #fem!reader #f!reader #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston smut #tom william hiddleston #tom hiddleston x wife!reader #tom hiddleston headcanon #tom hiddleston one shot #smut oneshot #smut blurbs #smut drabble

[norabrice1701]

Cabinet List

Hi, y'all! This list indexes my fics for all of the various worlds in this cabinet, and is updated as the creative tides ebb and flow.

Last Update: 22-Nov 2023

List is largely headed by lead actors (despite others who may co-star) for more grouped organization.

I hope you find something you enjoy!

Cheers & Happy Reading, Nora

AO3 MidnightBlast

Sideblog for F1 fics & pics: @f1tyreslightmyfyre

Sideblog for "Joyeux Noël" fics: @leftenantmackgordon

"Top Gun: Maverick":

(22-Nov) Twist My Heart, Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw Twister AU Fic [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut, language, tornado trauma/distress], complete

->->->-><-<-

Henry Cavill Characters:

The Duke & The Witch - Charles Brandon x Fem!OC, A The Tudors Slight AU Fic [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut, torture], complete

->->->-><-<-

Sam Neill Characters:

Falling - Vasily Borodin x Fem!Reader, The Hunt for Red October Mini-Series Fic [Rated E for 18+NSFW smut, controlling/misogynistic/abusive themes], complete

Coincidence - Dr. Alan Grant x Predoctoral Student Fem!Reader, Jurassic Park Fic [Rated E for 18+NSFW smut, dinosaur PTSD], complete

Play With Matches - a partial WIP for Reilly, Aces of Spies for Sidney Reilly

->->->-><-<-

Formula 1 (F1) Fic:

Rivals, Lovers, Immortals - Angel!Max x Demon!Charles 2022 Season AU [Rated E for 18+ NSFW sexual content, language, alcohol], complete

->->->-><-<-

Daniel Brühl Characters:

Character Oneshots:

Appointment - Dr. Thomas Fischer x Fem!Reader AU [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut, medical/doctor kink, heavily detailed medical procedures], complete

Teacup - Andrea Marowski x Fem!Reader [Rated M for non-graphic sexual content, reader emotional distress], complete

Gift - Pirate!Horstmayer x Fem!Reader AU [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut], complete

Consequence - Ghost!Horstmayer x Fem!Reader [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut], complete

Shadow - A dark!hypnotist Brühl x Fem!Reader AU [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut], complete

Confession - Father Antonio x Fem!Reader [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut, religious blasphemy, age-difference but no underage], complete (for now)

Mini-Series Master List

High Octane - Powerboat Racer!Zemo x Fem! Reader AU Series [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut, language, enemies-to-lovers], complete

Series Main List

Swordplay - Olympic Fencer!Zemo x Fem!Reader AU Series [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut, language, smoking], complete

Series Master List

Strange Case of Dr. Kreizler and Mr. Brühl - modern!Laszlo/Daniel x Fem!Reader, "Dr. Jekyll/Mr. Hyde" AU Series [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut, language, murder, death discussions, violence descriptions], complete

Series Master List

The Cloverfield Pyramid - Ernst Schmidt x Fem!Reader, 'The Cloverfield Pyramid' Lost Ruins/Archaeology Expedition AU Series [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut, language, fairly-graphic horror violence, body horror tw], complete

Series Master List

Dance Card - Historical!Zemo x Fem!Reader Series [Rated E for 18+ NSFW eventual smut (dubcon themes, loss of virginity), dark!Zemo, language, non-graphic violence against women], complete

Series Master List

->->->-><-<-

James McAvoy Characters:

"The Sandman", Only A Dream - Morpheus/Dream x Fem!Reader [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut, language], complete

"X-Men: First Class" Horror/Mystery/Romance AU, Hellfire Manor - Charles Xavier x Erik Lehnsherr [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut on AO3 link, language, horror tropes/violence], complete

->->->-><-<-

Tom Hiddleston Characters:

An Offer Received - Jaguar Villain!Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader Series [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut, controlling behavior, Dark!villain], complete (for now):

Part I - 5 Minutes

Part II - 5 Weeks

Part III.1 - 5 Months

Part III.2 - 5 Months

Part IV - 5 Minutes

Part V - 5 Days

Part VI - 5 Empires

->->->-><-<-

Colin O'Donoghue Characters:

"Once Upon A Time" Apollo Space Program AU, To the Moon and Back - Astronaut!Killian Jones x Secretary!Emma Swan [Rated M for sensual smut on AO3 link, language], complete

->->->-><-<-

Colin Farrell Characters:

"Fantastic Beasts" Modern Demon AU, An Accidental Demon - Demon!Percival Graves x Vet-Student!Newt Scamander [Rated M for sensual smut on AO3 link, language]; first chapter here, full story with warnings on AO3 complete

"Minority Report", Imagine me and you, I do - Danny Witwer x Fem!Reader [Rated M for sensual smut, language], complete

->->->-><-<-

DCEU/Snyder Verse:

Oh What A Night - Bruce Wayne x Clark Kent x Fem!Reader [Rated Heavy M for sensual smut, language], complete

->->->-><-<-

"Band of Brothers" HBO Show:

Out West - 1880s Western AU, Speirs x Fem!OC, Winters x Nixon [Rated E for 18+ NSFW smut on AO3 link, language, wild west violence]; prologue here, full story with warnings on AO3, complete

Of Spotlights & Rockets - 1940s non-AU with Speirs x Fem!OC end goal romance [Rated G], in-process WIP

->->->-><-<-

Jack Davenport Characters:

"Breathless" TV Show, Not So Simple - Otto Powell x Angela Wilson [Rated Light Explicit for mostly sensual sexual content], complete

"Pirates of the Caribbean" Modern AU, Turning Tides - James Norrington x Fem!Cutler Beckett [Rated M for smut on AO3 link, language], complete

"Kingsman"/"Harry Potter" Crossover, Title TBD - James Spencer|Lancelot x Percival [Rated G], in-process WIP

->->->-><-<-

Joseph Gordon-Levitt Characters:

No. 34 - “The Dark Knight Rises” Fanfic - John Blake x Fem!OC [Rated T for language, alcohol], complete

"Inception", Too Good to be True - Arthur x Eames [Rated T for language, hints of knife play and domestic dream husbands fluff], complete

Thanks for stopping by!

#daniel brühl #james mcavoy #tom hiddleston #colin o'donoghue #colin farrell #jack davenport #joseph gordon-levitt #band of brothers #dceu fandom #fanfiction #fanfic #wannabe writer #list of fics

[kitkatd7]

Bad Days, Good Nights

Summary: After a terrible day at work Tom takes care of you.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Warnings: angst? Maybe just a smidge? Sweet smut, fingering (fem receiving) flufffffffff

Word Count: 801 (sorry it's short)

A/N: This is my very first time writing for Tom, also first try at smut so please let me know what you think! This is not beta read. Thanks crackheads (you know who you are) and @megthemewlingquim for helping me with this!

Masterlist 

------------------------------------------------------

Traipsing through your front door you kick the cursed high-heels off your feet as you sigh.

Looking over the back of the couch, your husband takes in your disheveled look a moment before moving around the couch to your side quickly. "What happened, Darling?" Tom questions you, cupping your face in his hands gently, wiping away your smudged mascara and wet tears.

'I had the worst day ever," you sniffle, not looking at his concerned expression. "I- just everything went wrong today. I didn't remember to-" you start to ramble.

Sh, shhh, it's okay, love. You're okay, 'You can tell me all about it in a minute, okay?" He murmurs, guiding you to the couch and wrapping a blanket around you before dropping a kiss to your forehead when you nod. "I'll be back in a moment, just relax." He says, pressing play on your favorite show before heading towards the bedroom.

Coming back a minute later, he picks you up from the couch, bridal style and carries you towards your bedroom. "Close your eyes."

"Why?" You question, beyond confused but shutting them anyway.

"Just trust me, dear."

You resist the urge to open your eyes when you feel him stop. "Tom, what are you doing?"

"You'll see," he tells you, setting you down gently and wrapping his arms around your waist, his chest against your back as the smell of lavender hits you in soothing waves. "Open your eyes."

Opening your eyes you gasp softly at the picture before you; the lavender candles scattered across the vanity and bath sill cast flickering shadows around the room, the tub filled with steaming water and large bubbles. "You didn't have- " you start, peering over your shoulder at the love of your life.

'I wanted to," he says sweetly, "Come on, love."

Settling between Tom's long legs in the warm water, you lean against his chest, letting out a contented sigh when he wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling your neck. "Now tell me about your day," he commands softly, pressing a kiss to the space beneath your ear as you melt further. If that's even possible.

Sighing, this time more in annoyance you begin to recount the events. "This morning I spilled my coffee all over my favorite shirt and I was running late so I couldn't come home to change. I forgot the files my boss wanted me to get for her. I almost missed my meeting." You pause to breathe as Tom lets out a grunt behind you. "They got my lunch order wrong and I didn't have time to order anything else, and to top it all off I got a ticket for speeding." You finish, wiping away a tear.

"Darling, I'm so sorry you had such a bad day but please don't worry about it. Let me take care of you."

"I love you."

"I love you more," he whispers while grabbing your favorite shampoo from the sill.

Working the shampoo into a lather, his large hands drag against your scalp deliciously, causing you to release an appreciative moan as the scents of vanilla and coconut flood your senses. Rinsing your hair gently, Tom washes the rest of your body with great care, treating you like the finest piece of art. The intimacy of the gesture sending shivers down your spine.

You sigh as his hand moves down over your stomach and continues further.

"Let me make you feel better."

All you can manage is a groan in response as his digits slide between your folds, just dipping inside your entrance, almost teasingly.

"Thomas!" You mewl, back arching, begging for more. His other hand slowly begins kneading your breast, his thumb swiping over your nipple, the sensation going straight to your core.

Placing slow, sweet kisses on your neck he moves his finger fully inside your tight channel, thrusting into you excruciatingly slowly, his palm brushing your clit with each shift of his hand, sweet pleasure flowing through you. It's too much yet not enough. Leaning closer he sucks a sweet reminder onto your neck, increasing his pace slightly and adding another finger. You topple over the edge, legs shaking, head thrown back and his name falling from your lips. Panting, you savor the pleasure coursing through you. Turning your head you press a lingering kiss against his lips.

"I have more plans for us, love," he murmurs, retracting his fingers from between your thighs.

"More?" You ask in a haze, eyes fluttering shut, head leaning against his shoulder.

Several minutes later you're curled snuggly into Tom's side in leggings and one of his t-shirts. Snacks and drinks sprawled around you. The Hobbit- one of your favorites- just beginning to play.

"I love you," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your hair gently.

"I love you more." 

-------------------------------------------------------

Please let me know what you think! (Reposting on other sites is not allowed, thank you ) Taglists are OPEN! Send an ask if you would like to be added

Permanent tag list: @lovesmesomehiddles @saiyanprincessswanie @kind-sober-fullydressed @remilupin22 @constantaking

Crackheads: @mr-skyline-r34 @buckys-other-punk @chaoticpete @cheeky-foxx @hermionesalvatore84 @msgreenverse @babygurlbarnes

#kits writing #fanfic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom x reader #tom hiddleston #fanfiction #fic #bad days good nights #BDGN #Tom #smut #angst? #flufff #fluff

[smolvenger]

Hi guys!

I got an idea for a fluffy Thomas Sharpe (from Crimson Peak of course) x fem! reader one shot so If any of you guys want to be tagged, let me know!

#Carrie speaks #Carrie writes #crimson peak #thomas sharpe #thomas sharpe x you #thomas sharpe x reader #Thomas sharpe x y/n #Thomas sharpe x fem! reader #Thomas sharpe x fem! y/n #tom hiddleston #tom my beloved

[captainmarvels]

wicked games [22]

Summary: Nothing can ruin all the fun you and Tom have been having lately - right?

Pairing: CEO!Tom Holland x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT - fingering, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, dom/sub vibes | 18+ ONLY |

Word Count: 4547

A/N: We’re back! I hope y’all enjoy this chapter, @thorsxodinson and I have poured our heart, soul, blood, sweat and tears into this fic and we can’t wait for y’all to see what we have coming!! 

masterlist | tag list - add yourself!

The autumn season breezed by, barely giving you time to adjust to your new(ish) life.

The hustle and bustle of the office as the end of the year approached may have had you running around with no end in sight, but you knew that at the end of the day, you would be able to recuperate at home.

Home.

Every morning you awoke to a fresh cup of tea on your nightstand, a note always sitting just to the right of it.

Good morning bug. Stop making that face, you know you secretly love it.

I’m making smoothies to go in the kitchen, so you better get in here fast before I take all the strawberries! xx Tom

While eating breakfast together had been somewhat of a rarity before, you now always found Tom sitting at the table with a book in one hand, and a fork full of bacon in the other - and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

As November came to an end, and the first few days of December promised cold winds and a desire for hot chocolate by the fire, you couldn’t help but reminisce about the past year.

Tom was sitting at his desk in his home office, scrolling through some documents on his laptop when he heard a knock at the door.

“Its open,” He said, glancing up just in time to see you slip in. “Hello, darling,”

“Hello, bug,” You answered wistfully, laughing when you saw him raise an eyebrow.

“I’ve got some hot chocolate for you,” You set the mug down in front of him, the artfully crafted whipped cream bobbing against the rim. 

“And to what do I owe such a wonderful treat?” Tom pushed his chair back from the desk, gently patting the top of his thigh before grabbing the mug. You got the hint, and sat on his lap as the two of you took a much needed sip. 

“Do you need a reason to drink some delicious hot chocolate?” You asked, a soft gasp escaping as you felt Tom’s grip on your waist.

“No better reason than the season, my love.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, you planned a relaxing night in with Tom and Harrison, full of face masks and comedy films. You, Harrison, and Tom were in the kitchen, attempting not to burn a batch of homemade cookies, when you heard the elevator bell ring.

“Harrison, stop opening the oven!” You said, causing him to blush as he quickly shut the door. Tom was preparing a second tray of cookies when the kitchen door swung open, revealing an out of breath Mary, with what appeared to be velvet envelopes in hand.

“WE’RE GOING TO A GALA, BITCHES!” She shouted at the top of her lungs, the widest smile appearing on her face as she slammed the envelopes onto the counter.

“Whose gala?” Harrison asked, wiping his hands on the front of his borrowed apron.

“I have a doorbell for A REASON, you know! I had it checked, and it is not broken!” Tom clamored as he glanced down at the counter.

“Mary?” You walked up to her and rested a hand on her shoulder, locking eyes with her as she met your questioning gaze.

Gathering whatever oxygen she could, she said, “Tom… Motherfuckin’... Hiddleston.” 

You felt your jaw drop, and you couldn’t hold back the scream building up in the back of your throat.

“HOLY FUCK!”

“I KNOW, BITCH! CAN YOU BELIEVE!”

“I can’t believe it… we’re gonna meet the Tom Hiddleston?” You could feel your face growing warmer with just the thought of being in the same room as him.

“The supreme Tom, of course,” Mary said, ignoring Tom’s pointed look as she continued. “And we are all going, I don’t care if you have the same name, Stanley!”

“We’ve definitely lost her, she’s gone fully cracked,” Tom pinched the bridge of his nose in apparent frustration. 

Harrison looked amongst you all before chiming in, “Do you think we ought to warn his security team?”

“Tom, do not try and prevent me from enjoying this glorious moment!” You met his gaze, raising your eyebrows as he opened his mouth to say something. 

“Does this mean I’m your date, Mary?” Haz asked, his cheeks a rosy blush hue as he looked at her.

“Fuck a date; I’m going single!”

Hiddleston’s charity gala was in two weeks, in London, of all places. Tom and Harrison were delighted to finally have a chance to return home, even if they were dreading attending the event. 

You walked into your bedroom, and found Tom studying two different suits he had laid out on the bed.

“It’s just a gala, Tom,” You said, tilting your head to the side as you leaned against the wall opposite him.

“It’s Tom Hiddleston’s gala, darling. I can’t just show up to one of his galas, I need to-”

“Make an entrance, yadda yadda yadda, we get it, Stanley! You’re afraid the superior Thomas will steal us away and you’ll be all alone, blah blah blah. Anywho, I need to borrow your darling for some dress shopping!” Mary cut him off, rolling her eyes as he glared at her. She was leaning against the doorframe of his room.

Taking hold of your hand, you flashed Tom a weak smile before walking out the door with her.

Mary brought you to her favorite boutique in Manhattan, and pulled out two photos of gowns from her purse as you walked into the shop. Before you could glance at them, Mary handed them to one of the stylists you recognized from the last time you were here.

“Just these, Ms. Robinson?” 

“Yes, thank you, Liza. I’ll let you know if Clara needs to make any alterations. And you,” She took your hand in yours and lead you towards the dressing rooms in the back of the salon. “...are coming with me! Let’s get this party started, ladies!”

Downing the last of the champagne, you studied the gown in front of you. 

“Are you ready to put it on, miss?” Liza was standing behind the podium, her glasses on the tip of her nose.

You nodded and stepped up, shrugging off your white robe as she undid the buttons on the back of the gown. 

Once everything was buttoned up and pinned, you looked yourself up and down in the mirror. 

The silk gown itself was a caramel nude shade, adorned with an intricate pattern comprised of different blue and silver jewels that sparkled under the light. The thigh high slit on your left leg allowed the silver stilettos you were wearing to shine through. 

What really caught you off guard about the dress was the extravagant blue silk sash that was draped across your midsection and shoulders, falling over the front of your figure like a cathedral length veil.

“What do you think?” Liza asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth as she met your gaze in the mirror.

“I think I’m still processing this, to be honest.” A knock at the door interrupted your flow of thought.

“Get out here and let me see!” 

Making sure you wouldn’t step on the sash, you moved into the middle of the dressing area, where Mary was already studying herself in the mirror.

It was the epitome of Mary, and you were truly taken aback by how beautiful it was. 

The pitch black gown draped over the podium, leading your eyes up to find intricate lace and jewel detailing on the sleeves. As she turned, you noticed the top of the gown appeared to be like a sash; draping itself over Mary’s left shoulder, and hitting the floor at the same length as the hem of the gown. Mary’s dress also had a thigh high slit, but hers was adorned with a partial jeweled pattern coming down the edge. 

“Holy shit!” Mary exclaimed, brushing her gown to the side as she stepped down to meet you at eye-level. “I know I have excellent taste but Jesus, I’ve really knocked it out of the park with this one, haven’t I? You look hot!” 

You laughed, shaking your head as you ran a finger over the detailing. “I don’t think I ever thought I’d see myself in a dress like this, so thank you,”

“No need to thank me, babe. I will be expecting a massive thank you gift basket from your white boy after he sees you in this because fuck, he’s gonna go insane over this.”

Your flight landed at Heathrow at 8pm, a mere 24 hours before the gala. As you waited for the private limousine in the hangar, you listened to Tom and Haz discuss their ideas for the weekend.

“If we don’t go to the London Eye, I will riot, mate,”

“Why’re you being such a tourist, Holland? You’re acting like it’s your first time in the UK,” Harrison raised his eyebrows as he peered over Tom’s shoulder at you.

“You put him up to this?” 

You held up your hands. “I haven’t been to London like… ever? So I don’t know what to do - this is all him!” 

“Osterfield, let me live, alright! We’re also going to the Shard, so”

“Jesus, you’re really pulling out all the stops,” Harrison said under his breath as he sat on top of his suitcase.

“Wouldn’t you, if you were here with someone you loved?” Harrison sighed and nodded.

“You have a point, I suppose,” He acknowledged as he looked up and met Tom’s jet-lagged gaze. “That doesn’t mean I have to agree with the fact you want to go to all the overpacked, touristy spots!”

When the limos pulled up to the curb of the Hotel Café Royal, you couldn’t help your jaw dropping as you took in the intrinsic architecture of the building.

“Thomas, this better be the penthouse!” Mary shouted over the cars driving by as she grabbed her bag. 

“Which room, sir?” The bellboy asked as he grabbed the suitcases from the limo driver. Taking your hand in his, Tom turned and answered. “The Dome Suite, thank you.”

The elevator ride was short and sweet, giving you no time to prepare for the overwhelming grandness of the suite before you as you all stepped out onto the pristine marble floors.

The residence was under a copper-domed rotunda, and - according to the bellboy - spanned 3,132 square feet of space. Tom led you into the curved living room, where you noticed one of the terraces that looked over all of London. 

“Your rooms are down to the left here; ours is through these doors here,” Tom gestured to his right as he milled about the massive room. 

Mary flashed you a peace sign before following Harrison down the hall, the sounds of doors closing echoing behind them.

“Shall we, my love?” Tom walked with you into the master suite, where you were greeted by a massive green wall; massive sofas, a dining table, and wet bar on one side, and what appeared to be a bathroom on the other. Tom continue moving, leading you around the wall in the back of the room, where the bedroom was.

Nothing too fancy about the bed, but you were thankful for its softness as you sunk into the comforter.

“Already tired, sweetheart?” Tom cooed as he placed his suitcase on the bench at the foot of the bed.

“Ask me again in 12 hours, yeah?”

The next day, Mary kicked Tom out of the master suite at 4:30pm, making sure he had everything he needed before locking the door.

“I can’t have him seeing my wondrous beauty ahead of everyone else, am I right?” 

Mary helped you put your gown on, before she sat you down in front of her makeshift vanity to get you red carpet ready. 

Once she’d worked her magic, you couldn’t stop staring at yourself in the mirror as you waited for Mary to finish her makeup.

A rap at the door brought you back down to Earth; Mary shouted over her blasting music: “Not YET, idiots!” 

Fifteen minutes later, Mary poked her head around the corner, flashing you a toothy grin.

“Ready, babe?”

“As ready as I can be.”

“Time to find Tom Hiddleston!”

Seeing the cameras flashing from the corners of your eye only elevated your already racing heartbeat as the limousine came to a slow stop outside Christ Church’s The Nave; you could see dozens of guests climbing up the steps to the entrance, dazzling gowns beaming under the flashing lights.

“You okay, love?” Tom placed his hand over yours as you met his worried gaze.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to this,” You whispered, squeezing his hand gently as he nodded.

“Just remember, I’m here.”

The loud crowd consumed your thoughts as the limo door opened, but you focused on Tom as he helped you out of the car. Walking up to the bottom of the stairs, you posed for a few photos. 

Tom had his hand on your waist and held you close to his side; you smiled wide, stealing a few glances at him before he helped you up the steps. 

Once inside, you marveled at the oak panelling across the grand room, and the Tuscan columns that led the eye all the way to the ceiling of flowers. 

“One hell of a party, am I right!” Mary appeared from the crowd, Harrison close behind, drinks already in hand. 

“I know I could do better,” Tom scoffed, his eyes taking in the venue space.

“Sure you could, Stanley! Hey, do I get some sort of thank you for how fucking amazing she looks?” Mary pointed at your gown, and Tom rolled his eyes, even when you could see how flushed he’d gotten. 

“I’ll be sure to pay a commission for picking out the dress, Mary!” 

A crowd of people towards the back of the space cheered loudly, and Mary’s attention was piqued - “Got to go, boys! A Mr. Hiddleston awaits us!” 

Before Tom could protest, Mary took your hand and led you through the throngs of people, until you happened upon the cheering crowd.

And sure enough, the gracious host himself, Tom Hiddleston, was standing at the heart of the group, a glass of champagne in hand as he talked with them.

He glanced up and caught a glimpse of you and Mary, and a spark of recognition seemed to cross his features.

“Excuse me just a moment,” He said, flashing everyone a smile as he moved through the group towards you. 

Mary pinched you hard in the arm as she tried to maintain her composure; Tom approached you two and smiled, lifting his glass slightly as if to say hello.

“I thought I recognized you, darling. Ms. Robinson, from New York? You run that phenomenal activism site! I heard about your gala, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t able to come,” As he continued chatting Mary up, you could tell she was in a daze; after all, she was talking with the man she’d been obsessing over for the past few weeks.

You squeezed her hand as a goodbye before you began to search for the original British men you’d come with.

A few rounds of circling the highboys around the room finally led you to Tom and Harrison, who were nursing drinks at a table against the wall. 

“Why the long faces, boys?” You walked over to Tom and gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek. He wrapped an arm around your waist as he dropped his head on your shoulder, sighing exasperatedly. 

“Tommy is just upset he can’t throw as lavish a gala as Hiddleston can,” Harrison said, laughing when Tom flipped him off.

“I think I’m going to lose my mind if I’m here for any longer, my love,” He whispered in your ear.

As he pulled away, the DJ put on a playlist that begged for dancing, so you took Tom’s hand in yours and led him towards the dance floor at the heart of the room.

“He’s got two left feet, you know!” Harrison yelled over the blasting music.

Tom shook his head and flipped off his best friend once more, before turning to find you waving your free arm around maniacally.

Pulling you into his side, Tom leaned in impossibly close: “Have I told you how fucking amazing you look tonight, princess?” 

The pet name made your heart want to burst, but you ignored the rushing adrenaline as you turned your back to him and pushed yourself up against him.

Tom grunted deep in his throat at your movements, tugging at the knot of his tie with one hand while the other wrapped itself around your waist.

Resting your head back against his chest, you swayed your hips left and right, brushing up against Tom in the most torturous way possible.

He could see the game you were playing from a mile away, and he was surprised, but insanely excited to see where you were going with this.

Following your lead, Tom leaned in and left a hot, open mouth kiss on your neck. You could feel his lips trailing up to your jaw, and for a moment, you lost yourself in the pleasure.

Tom pulled you back with firm squeeze of your ass, making you gasp as he chuckled darkly.

Turning to face him, you pulled him in close, resting your hands on his chest as he settled his own on your waist.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, baby,” He said over the loud music. The smug smirk on his face told you what he was thinking, and there was no way in hell you were letting him get away that easy. 

Grabbing his hand, you guided him through the pool of sweaty bodies dancing to a secluded hallway. Tom soon realized where you’d brought him - the bathroom.

Opening the door with your hip, you dragged him inside, locking it behind you.

Before he could come up with a smug remark, you pushed Tom against the door, and pulled him close with a tug of his tie.

“Did you really think you’d won, that easily?” 

“You could say that,” Tom offered as he watched you crouch down to look under the stalls. All of them were empty. As you straighten back up, he added, “Are you going to prove me otherwise?”

You silenced him with a rough, bruising kiss. It's meant to put Tom in his place instead of arousing him, but it does both, actually; his neck is flushed and his heavy-lidded eyes are trained on your lips when you finally pull back.

"If you think you can get away with beating me at my own game, you’re quite mistaken," Tom pushed himself off the door, and backed you towards the sinks.

You watched him undress with wide eyes. "If you insist." Hoisting yourself up onto the counter, you pulled the hem of your dress over your thigh.

"Music to my ears, baby," Tom quipped cheekily. He crowded in on you and pushed your knees apart. The fabric of your dress bunched up around your waist, leaving your pussy exposed. Running his hands up your thigh, he teased you with his index finger, running it up and down your slit several times, reveling in how warm you felt.

With his free hand, Tom grabbed your neck, kissing you roughly. The other excruciatingly drew circles over your folds, ever so slowly. Bringing you back to him, Tom pressed his lips against yours to quiet your keening from his touch, distracting you just enough with his tongue in your mouth, dancing sinfully with yours.

Breaking the kiss, Tom pressed his forehead against yours and grinned at you. “I’ve truly missed this, darling.”

With your chest heaving, you reached down, fumbling to unbuckle his belt. Sliding down from the counter, you pushed your dress back to fall to your knees, but Tom stopped you before you had the chance.

“Did I say you could do that, princess?”

The look in his eyes was different than before; like he’d finally decided what he wanted to do with you. Like he was going to tease you until you were nothing but a writhing mess for thinking you could do this to him, free of consequences.

Rising up from the floor, you looked at one another for what felt like an eternity, until Tom couldn’t take it anymore.

It’s now or never.

Pressing you flush against the counter, he pushed back the hem of your dress and began toying with your pussy once again. His mouth found yours, his lips soft yet rough against your own as he swallowed every moan that fell from them.

Moving from your lips to your jaw, Tom spoke between every kiss. "God, you're already dripping wet and we've barely started."

You let out another moan in response and tilted your head back until it bumped the mirror behind you. Tom reigned in his smug smile and continued to touch you until his hands were coated in your desperation. Only then did he unzip his trousers and pulled out his cock.

He was hard and leaking from the tip, but that was hardly a surprise, considering you were at his mercy. Better yet, you were eager to continue. Tom could feel your eyes on him as he gingerly stroked himself, spreading the pre-come over the head with his thumb.

“Would you please just fuck me already?" With a little maneuvering you managed to lean back on the sink's countertop, revealing glistening, dewy flesh for his gaze. You spread yourself open with your middle finger and glanced up at him.

The sight you were presenting was admittedly very tempting. Tom could easily set aside his plan and give in to what you wanted. What you both wanted, really. He was already picturing it - just his cock slipping in and out of you, your body writhing underneath him. 

But he didn’t want that. Oh, no. He wanted to push you to the edge only to deny you. He wanted your climax to rip through you; drown you in pleasure. And yet...

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Tom grunted. He leaned in, aligning your bodies together. "To get what you so desperately want?”

You nodded enthusiastically, gripping the countertop in anticipation. Rocking his hips forward, Tom rubbed the length of his cock along your slick opening. You couldn’t help but gasp at the tantalizing friction, tilting your pelvis so that he could easily slip inside.

It was a subtle, clever move on your part but Tom saw right through it.

"Too bad," he murmured, taking his cock in hand again. You whimpered at the sudden loss of his body brushing against yours, but he paid no mind to your desperate pleas. "This is far more fun, don't you think?" Not waiting for a reply, he took the tip of his cock in hand and rubbed it lightly against the hood of your clit.

Your whimpering cries spurred him to keep on teasing you until your eyes were clenched tight, your chest heaving from shallow breaths.

"You like that, princess?" Tom questioned. He continued the rhythmic slide of his skin against yours.

"Yes! Yes, fuck. God, please." Your hands rove over his back, pawing at his velvet suit jacket.

"Jump off and turn around; your back facing me."

You stumbled over your heels in a haste to obey. Pulling your gown up to your waist, you flung the extra fabric into the sink next to you. 

"Bend over," he ordered.

You complied, pressing yourself against the cold counter, your back arched and your cunt aching in anticipation. Tom stepped back and took a moment to appreciate the glistening juices slipping down your thighs. Fuck, I missed this view. 

"Tom!" You squealed as his hand landed a resounding slap on your ass. He spanked the other cheek for good measure and this time you moaned at the contact.

"You missed this." He made it a statement, not a question, because it's obvious from your wet, dripping cunt that you were enjoying every. Fucking. Moment. 

"Maybe." You couldn’t help yourself, and glanced over your shoulder at him, biting your lip. "Don’t stop now, daddy,"

Tom’s breath fell short as he heard that all-too familiar word roll off your tongue. You were the only one who could utter it and get him to fall to his knees. But not this time.

"Spread your legs for me," he commanded, his cock aching with pleasure as he watched you teeter in your high heels, trying to regain control of your shaky legs. Once you had adjusted, your back a beautiful straight line and your ass pressed against his hard cock, Tom grabbed hold of your hair and lightly pulled until he was certain you could see yourself in the mirror.

"Look at that, baby," he murmured, wrapping your hair around his hand.

"What?" you gasped.

"How beautiful you are, waiting for my cock." Wasting no time, Tom gripped his erection by the base and nudged the tip between your soaking folds. The damp heat of your skin welcomed him and he shuddered from the amount of self-control it took to pause for a moment and make sure you were still looking at your reflection.

Your eyes were trained on the mirror image, and the amount of pure, unadulterated desire that was plainly etched across your face – desire for him – was enough to soften the blows from his anxiety over the past few weeks. You still wanted him.

Right now, you had this, and as Tom finally sank into the blissfully tight, velvety heat of your pussy, he vowed to make every minute worth its while. For you.

As the end of the year approached faster than a bullet, Tom was spending longer hours at the office and less time with you.

There were only a few days left before the new year would ring in, and he had to make the most of his time at work; home would always be waiting for him.

Or so he thought.

Just as he finished wrapping up yet another expense report for the board, Tom heard a loud knock at his office door.

“Come in, it’s open,” Tom didn’t bother to see who crossed the threshold until he heard a painstakingly familiar voice across the way.

“Glad to see you’ve got some consideration for your company, Thomas.”

His father walked with confidence as Tom met him halfway, his hands fidgeting with his cufflinks as he took in his father’s gaze.

“What’re you doing here?” 

“That’s no way to speak to your father, boy. Besides… I come bearing bloody brilliant news.” Dom glanced back at the empty wet bar in the back of the room, and rolled his eyes. “We can celebrate later, I suppose.”

“What’s the news?” Tom asked, brows furrowed together as he crossed his arms in annoyance.

Clearing his throat, Dom flashed his son a wicked smile as he handed him a yellow manila folder, two tickets clipped to the front.

Tokyo.

“I want you to kick off the new year spearheading the brand-new company headquarters out of Toyko. Should only take a year, if all goes well.”

tags - part 1:

@cherrynat​ @anytimebitches​ @joyfullyje @jobean12-blog​ @emotchalla​ @enigma-xlii​ @illletitgrow​ @cloverrover​  @justaveryobsessedfangirl​ @ssweet-empowerment​ @killmongerdreams​ @spideytrxsh​ @eyestheyseeyou​ @aussie-mantle​ @spidergirlwanab​ @i-think-i-am-adorable​ @amanda51015-blog​ @princessskylarsblog​ @whoneedsalifeanyhowxx​ @chinalois​ @clairesrainbow​ @darkerthanspace​ @slighttinsomniac​ @curlytomholland​ @wanderlustomaha​ @hollandazing​ @mendes-marvel​ @wowspideyholland​​ @santaholland​

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader smut #ceo!tom holland #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you

[lokissceptres]

Can I Please Request A Smut Where Reader Finds Out Her Boyfriend Tom Hiddleston Has A Praise Kink And She Takes Advantage Of That?

Of course! I only do implied smut so i’m sorry if you wanted descriptive smut. I hope you enjoy it ;)

—

Love me

Pairing: Tom hiddleston x fem!reader

Warnings: Praise kink, Implied smut, Teasing

Summary: When watching a romantic movie with your boyfriend you begin to recount the good things about him unaware that he likes it a lot more than he lets on

-

Today was the day of your anniversary. The anniversary of your boyfriend, Tom Hiddleston, and yourself being together for quite some time. Luckily, Tom had managed to come home for the week as he didn’t need to film, which lead to days of cuddling and cute dates similar to this evening.

Tom and yourself were spread out on the sofa, sharing the warmest blanket you owned. You were meant to be watching an adaption of Romeo and Juliet, since Tom loved shakespeare, but you found yourself focusing more on Tom than the movie. You thought about all the funny and cute times you and Tom had, had together which lead to you suddenly blurting out:

“You’re so good to me, you know that?” Toms eyes had immediately snapped to yours. You were suprised at first because practically nothing could interrupt Tom when he was absorbed in shakespeare.

“What?” he said, voice breaking. You had thought it was just because he hadn’t spoken in a few hours.

“I said you’re so good to me and I appreciate it” you repeated. Tom sat up and smiled at you, shifting his legs slightly.

“I’m lucky to have you” he said still smiling.

“I was thinking about all the good moments we’ve had, turns out they’ve only been because of the things you’ve done for me”

Tom, still grinning like a madman, pulled you onto his lap and wrapped his arms around your waist. You felt something warm beneath you but you were convinced it was just the heat from being under the blanket.

“You’re so kind” he replied, “Although Id say it was the other way round. Everything good has happened because you, Y/N, have made it good not because of my clumsy self”

“No way Tom! You’re perfect and an even more perfect boyfriend” you noticed Tom swallow deeply but ignored it, “You’re such a gentleman, always opening doors, having basic manners that no one seems to have these days and most of all, treating me like a Queen”

“That’s because you are a Queen, my love” he said throatily. You noticed that he had started to heat up. Removing the blanket you said,

“It seems to be getting hot in here doesn’t it?” you laughed, not noticing his obvious discomfort.

“Does it?” he almost squeaked. He slid you off his lap and put you back on the sofa.

“Excuse me” he said, clearing his throat. As he got up you noticed there was an obvious bulge in his pants. Finding yourself not being able to stop staring at him as he left you thought: Could it be that he liked that? That he likes being praised?

As the thought began to seem more suitable for what just happened you devised a plan to test your theory the next morning.

...

The next morning you woke up to Tom making breakfast.

“Good morning, my love” he said, turning around to look at you. You responded as you usually would before sitting down, drinking a beverage that Tom had already laid out for you.

“This is great Tom, thank you” you said, already starting to praise him. He simply turned around again and said

“I havent even served you your food yet”

Finishing the beverage quickly you got up to come and look at what he was doing.

“You’re so good at cooking Tom” you complimented him again. He eyed you suspiciously, still cooking.

“What’s with the compliments this morning my love?”

“Nothing I just felt like it” you said innocently, wrapping your arms around his waist. “You’re so good to me” you said again.

Tom murmered a response, refusing to look at you and when you had left you noticed that he had turned bright red.

Throughout the day you made sure to compliment and praise him as much as you could, maybe even adding in some innuendos along the way, and to your suprise your suspicious were true. Thomas William Hiddleston had a praise kink. And you were going to see how long it would take to break him.

You were sat on the sofa reading next to Tom who was doing some extra work when you decided to compliment him again.

“You’re great at this, is there anything you can’t do?” Tom already looked like he was minutes away from going insane. Today had been a test of his self control and it proved to be a tough one. Upon hearing you say that he pulled you on his lap, cupping your face with his hand.

“If you keep saying things like that I may really go insane” he whispered in your ear.

“I don’t know why... I’m just complimenting you” you smirked. Tom growled slightly, biting your lower lip. He knew that you knew. In fact he had figured it out earlier on in the day but he wanted to stay quiet in order to prolong the experience.

“Since you love being praised so much, there are many things you could do to make me want to praise you more” you replied to his growl, kissing him gently. Tom swallowed again.

“You don’t know?” you teased, your fingers now playing with the curls on his head.

“Of course I know” he growled, kissing you passionately. He let out all of the days frustration in that kiss and once you two had parted you wished that you had wound him up more. Flipping you over so that you now lay with your back on the sofa, he pushed his body in between your legs, now biting and kissing your neck.

“What a good boy” you teased, moaning as he bit your sweet spot. He groaned at this and continued to move downwards, eager to get on with it.

“Good job, baby” you continued as the heat pooled between your legs. His hands gripped your thighs as he lowered himself in between your legs. You noticed that everytime you complimented him he seemed to become more dirty and dedicated. Not that you minded of course.

In the end, it was safe to say that both you and Tom went to sleep satisfied.

#fluff #loki #smut #tom hiddleston #loki x reader #loki x reader fluff #loki x reader smut #marvel fluff #marvel smut #tom hiddleston x reader fluff #tom hiddleston x reader smut #mcu #avengers #sir thomas sharpe #dr laing

[angeli-marco-writes]

Tom Hiddleston - Enticing and Intriguing

A/N & WC - I got this idea one day in the summer, and wrote it down in my notes to come back and write it properly later. It evolved a lot and was super fun to write, albeit possibly the most self indulgent thing I’ve ever written. It’s essentially just Tom and the reader talking, how I imagine he’d be in casual, lengthy conversation. I do not know Tom, nor do I claim to. I also do not know his family or his personal life and therefore all mentions of them and information given in this fic is fictional. 6k.

Warnings - swearing, talk of smoking, alcohol & drinking (reader doesn't drink), mentions of bullying and fame and oppressive fans, talk of private education, bullying and divorce.

Summary - After bumping into Tom Hiddleston on the street, you’re surprised when he takes you for a drink, and he’s surprised by everything about you.

My limbs ache as I pull them behind me, trudging my way around the unfamiliar streets of London. I knew I should’ve kept more on top of training off-season: 5 days a week wasn’t enough, and now I’m back every day for prelims and fittings, I’m suffering. Well, my quads are.

Dwelling over this with hunched shoulders and a scowl is the only way I make it through the unwelcoming parade of bodies that greet me in Knightsbridge as I pass through back to my hotel since my rental isn’t open until my return in a fortnight. However, my aches are the exact reason I brood so much that I miss where I’m going, and don’t see the uneven paving.

Thank heavens for good balance. I’ve learnt how to save myself after falling on my arse one too many times, and with the ever brittle welcome of London, the last thing I expect this time is to be saved. Of course I managed it myself, my lack of foot catching my weight before calamity could occur, but there’s a hand on my arm, big and warm and welcoming, and a deep part of me within never wants for it to leave. Is this what security feels like?

I glance up first, realising I’m under the canopy lip of an independent shop that seems to be making a banging buck. I hadn’t realised I’d tracked so far to the right of the pavement. It appears, though, that the person whose hand is currently wrapped snugly around my covered forearm was exiting the shop, and I fell right into their path, possibly even tripped them up. Shit.

I glance up at this person, and not a second too soon or else it would’ve become awkward, but now it seems worse than before. Jesus Christ, have I died and ascended to some realm where Greek Gods walk around with thousand-watt smiles? Is this an everyday thing? My heart stutters, and my mind even begins to lag. It’s more than possible that I’ve never been this startled, but it can’t be much longer than a moment for me to compute who the man standing before me in all his glory is.

He smiles sympathetically, his head tilted ever so softly to the side, a dimple in his right cheek as he asks, his voice low and endearing, “Are you okay?”

I blink: once, twice. God, I must seem a right numpty.

“Tom Hiddleston,” I—very quietly, I might add—choke out through a dry mouth, “you're Tom Hiddleston.”

The world around me stops turning, and right now, in my mind at least, it’s just the two of us on the pavement with no disgruntled shoppers anywhere around us, no traffic, just this moment. His eyes, god his eyes, they’re literally sparkling, and my belly does flips as I begin to melt into a puddle on the floor as soon as he opens his mouth to laugh. The signature sound that can only be associated with him and his bottom lip. I knew he was attractive, but in person? Christ.

Then I remember where we are, what we’re doing, and the fact that his hand is still on my arm. I tug away gently, and school my features into a smile of nonchalance. Poor man must hate being gawked at like a goldfish.

“I won’t tell anyone, I won’t make a sound. I understand you don’t want people to know.”

And there he goes again. How does anyone keep their composure around such a sound? He clasps his hands in front of him, and bows his head, wispy auburn curls becoming more apparent as he does so.

“Would you like a photograph? An autograph?” he offers, now gesticulating with his long fingers and open, pale, soft palms.

“A drink,” I say, a hint of jest in my words, “non-alcoholic, of course.”

And then he does the very last thing I expect him to do in this situation, and cocks his head to the left, his expressive eyebrows dancing over the lines in his forehead.

“You don’t drink?” inquires he, his tone full of inquisition.

I understand why, I get it a lot. Everyone expects people my age to be out on the piss but, well, I have restrictions others don’t. But instead of answering him, I flip his words back on him with a statement of defiance, arching one brow as I angle my one hip having righted my footing on the pavement once again.

“You do.”

This time when he laughs, it’s a full belly sound as he clasps one ring-less hand over his chest and lets his head fall back, revealing the pale column of his throat, bare.

“Only a little. Why don’t you drink?”

I know he should be special, he should be different, but I know from experience that they’re not, and they just want to be treated normally. I would, I do. So I give him the same answer as I give everyone else.

“Why do you drink?”

He does it again, this time rolling his cerulean eyes a little.

“God, you’re a right feisty one aren’t you? Fair enough, full credit.” I feel a swell of pride in my chest that dissipates the second he turns on his heel. Oh well, I can get back to my hotel and out of this city. “Where would you like to go?”

This, once again, I wasn’t expecting. Why is he waiting for me, glancing over his broad shoulder with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes? “I was… joking. You’re too busy and famous to go out for a drink with me. And besides, aren’t you married?”

He puts his head in his hands, and I know there’s another point on the tally to me. I really should stop being so straight talking, that I should implement a filter to stop from saying every single thing that comes to my mind. “Not those rumours. They’ve been going on for two years!”

I shrug with one shoulder, and tug my bag up onto the other, “I know.”

“And no, I’m definitely not too busy or too famous. And besides you’ve piqued my interest with your indelible answers to everything. Where would you like to go?”

Well, if he’s willing to take me out for a drink, who am I to complain or argue? This time when I shrug and shuffle my feet on the concrete, it’s for a whole nother reason. “I’m not local. You tell me. Somewhere with good mocktails.”

He inclines his head towards me, smiling almost hopefully, “You’ve got it.”

Before I can take a step, his left hand is jutted out, fingers slightly spread. His Cartier watch glitters on his strong wrist. I don’t quite know what he expects me to do. Well, I do: it’s not rocket science. But…

I only clasp my palm around his, mine clammy—a fact that stresses me, once he nods and gestures with his other hand for me to take it. It’s safe to say I’m more than a little sceptical, but that… melts away once his fingertips, slightly rough, dig into the back of my hand.

I’m lucky I’m so agile, too, since the second we’re joined, he’s carting me off and walking with relative haste through the streets of London—the borough of Belgravia I think—with his long legs leading the way. He winks with somewhat admiration when he realises I’m keeping up with his gait, and only stops once we reach a relatively inconspicuous side street, secluded by towering old white buildings, protected by a tall wrought iron gate. He glances protectively around before disappearing inside with me right behind him.

“Kidnapping me, are we?” I ask jovially, a smirk toying on my own lips as I look him up and down. He should wear these trousers more, they cling to his ass and thighs perfectly.

“Absolutely not, but I like this bar. I promise it’s open.”

He gestures for me to enter, which I do, deciding to trust him, and I’m very glad I do. The bar is… stunning inside, all sleek black countertops, high white leather stools, plants everywhere on small shelves, winding aesthetically down the walls with assorted colours of flowers on the leaves to brighten the place up. Over in one corner is a stake, again black, with a music stand on it. Surrounding it is what appears to be a dance floor, apparently an evening thing. This whole bar seems more angled towards evenings since the tables are all empty, but the bartender seems more than happy to see us both.

“Good afternoon!” they crow upon seeing the two of us sidle up into adjacent stools at the bar. “What can I get you?”

“Two of your finest mocktails, please, good Sir,” Tom says, but upon reading the bartender’s name tag (Cam. they/them.) he clears his throat, “I apologise. Is Mx. better?”

They chuckle, “I really don’t mind, but thank you. Two mocktails coming up.”

With a nod, they disappear.

“So…” he hums, tapping his credit card on the table, “you seem to know a lot about me.”

“Oh yeah,” I say, “I know all about the Hiddlestoners and their Hiddle-boners.”

I’ve seen it. I can now die happy and officially say I’ve seen Tom Hiddleston glow as crimson as a damn radioactive tomato. How does he look hot even when he’s blushing? This isn’t fair. The apples of his cheeks cloud with colour and heat, a nervous smile breaking out over his mouth. Even the tips of his unblemished ears have changed colour, and yet he’s still maintaining his composure.

“Please don’t tell me you’re one of them.”

I sputter, choking on my own breath momentarily, “God no. Obviously I’m a fan, I admire your work, but no. I’m not into telling you you’re the reason I became a stripper.” My eyes widen, and realising the possible connotations, I hasten to add, “Which I’m not, by the way.”

His head is resting against his jumper-clad arms on the bar top now. Not that I blame him. I actually sympathise a lot. “Thank God. I mean so many of them are benign, but...”

“There’s always a few. Trust me, I know,” I say quietly.

The beat of silence while we listen to the bartender shaking some ice isn’t tense or awkward, but gives Tom time to fan his cheeks down to their normal temperature. “What do you do?”

“Oh, I just... do,” I tell him, and avert my gaze to one of the azalea plants. Not now. “I teach.” Not even a lie.

“Oh wow! You know what, I think I’d love to teach.”

“Not as rewarding as you think it is, believe me,” I quip, and smile in return for his grin.

“Why are you in London?”

“A work, um, thing.”

His smile falters, flickers and dims to a half smile, acknowledging my obvious evasiveness. “That’s nice.”

Fortunately, our drinks arrive at this precise moment as Tom hands over his card and asks the bartender (very politely) to create a tab for him.

“Two strawberry orange ginger fizzes for you,” they tell us with a half wink, dropping a straw into both mason glasses, “enjoy.”

“Thank you,” both Tom and I call at the same time.

Our eyes meet, and an unspoken thing passes between us as we take our straws in our mouths at the same time, and drink.

“Oh my God that’s incredible,” he says, “I don’t even miss the whiskey!”

I chuckle, “It’s gorgeous, I must say. Thank you.”

“Well,” he clears his throat, his eyes darkening a fraction, “can I ask you something?”

“That depends on what it is.”

His deep breath lifts his chest up, and in the neck of his shirt I spy groomed auburn hair littering his chest.

“Why don’t you drink?” he asks. “Seriously, this time. Obviously you don’t have to answer, b—”

“Because I never want to lose control of myself,” I tell him, my gaze downcast, with no room for argument. “I’ve been there before—not through the influence of alcohol—and it was horrible enough for me to never want to go there again. Not drinking just helps me keep my bearings, y’know?” He nods solemnly, hands folded in his lap almost reverently. It’s also for work, as well, but that’s a whole other matter. “Why do you drink?”

“To forget how famous I am. Which usually makes me more famous because someone will record me drunk and post it everywhere, scrutinising me further. Drunk, I’ve made some of the worst mistakes of my life, as you’ll know with the whole, um, yeah… But I still drink sometimes, just to take the edge off.”

I take this as my cue to pull out a packet of cigarettes from my jacket pocket, laying them on the bar between the two of us. “Tou-fucking-ché.”

And he just looks at them, his eyes flickering between me and the cigarettes. I can’t make out whatever is etched upon his handsome features, whether he’s disgusted or sympathetic, until he says, almost with a hint of relief in a brief crack in his deep voice, “It took me years to quit, I swear to god.”

I shrug with full understanding. Perhaps we have more in common than one would originally assume. “Everybody’s got something that’ll kill them. For some it’s drugs, for some it’s drink, for me it’s this.”

An amiable silence pitters between us as we drink a little more, our bar stools shuffling closer, almost subconsciously. We both pretend not to notice.

“You don’t look old enough to buy cigarettes,” he says.

“Yeah?” I challenge, smirking. “Then why did you take me for a drink?”

“Because you’re mature enough to be over eighteen. You just look young, and for that you should be grateful.”

I shrug with an air of ease, ignoring the glee swelling in my bosom. “It’s part of the job description. I can assure you I’m a complete adult. I have a degree and I pay taxes and everything.”

He tilts his head, smiling, “Very mature of you.”

“So… why did you ask me out?”

“If memory serves, you asked me out.” His voice is so low, so deep that vibrations ripple through my entire being and right to my core at his words, the mischief dancing in his crystal blue eyes, his mussed auburn locks, his giant hands splayed on the bar to fill the small space between us. Why am I even asking? I’m so grateful for the opportunity that it doesn’t even matter. But his answer prickles my skin with goose-bumps, anticipation fluttering through my veins. What else can he say in that deliciously low voice?

I won’t let his gorgeous masculinity win me over, though, so resume my façade of calm, and roll my eyes, drawing my lower lip between my teeth in what I hope is a seductive manner, sighing slightly.

“You know what I mean.”

He chuckles lowly to himself, spinning his half-empty glass around, watching beads of condensation drop onto the bar. “I told you, you intrigue me. Most other, and please forgive me for using this term, ‘fans’ would scream and be disrespectful, asking for pictures or autographs, or making unwanted advances and telling me graphic secrets I needn’t know.”

Sympathetically, I smile, proffering my hand, which he doesn’t flinch at when it’s laid atop his, feeling the warmth and energy crackle between us. “I’ve heard… and seen the videos. I’m sorry you have to go through that.”

“Unfortunately it’s par for the course. You were kind, respectful, not demanding whatsoever. I knew you were joking and would have been more than happy to walk away and pretend you didn’t even see me coming out of that shop, and that’s exactly what drew me to you. Even other, and once again I beg your pardon, celebrities can get a little obsessive about it, trying to hang out and be friendly. You’re… chill. I like your vibe.”

I desperately don’t want to ruin this moment, the butterflies in my stomach and the pattering in my heart, the twitch of his fingers as he tries to subtly reach for me, the honesty in his eyes… but my mouth wins over my mind once again.

“I apologise, but how old are your nieces and nephews?” I ask hurriedly, my words too fast for full recognition.

He pulls that cute face of confusion, the lines in his forehead creasing, “The oldest is eight, why?”

“It’s not them, then,” I respond, and sip from my straw. “You’ve just been spending too long online to be using words like ‘vibe’ and ‘chill.’”

“Hey!” He protests, laughing, almost guffawing. “I’m cool! I’m down with the kids!” I desperately try to suppress my laughter with pursed lips, but I don’t manage it, and a moment later dissolve into my own fit of giggles, my head in my hands as my chest heaves. I’m in absolute stitches when he winces. “Nope, I hear it. Let’s pretend that didn’t happen.”

As I’m coming down, I wink at him, and whisper, “Whatever you say, Mr H.”

He stops dead. Silence falls, and he’s so deathly still that I doubt he’s even breathing. The muscles in his hand are tight, fingers clenched around his glass, his eyes squeezed shut with an air of forced serenity. When he speaks, his voice is a deadly low whisper. “Say that again.”

Holy. Shit. What have I done? His eyes flutter open, pupils dilated, navy flecks around the edge of his baby blues. His words are so gruff I feel my knees tremble, my belly flipping. My intentions were innocent, but this? This side of him is one I’m all too glad to have revealed.

But I won’t let him win too easily, so I draw some drink up my straw, cock my head, and flutter my lashes. “Say what, Mr H?”

“I swear to God…”

His eyes close again, a muscle in his ridiculously defined jaw twitching, his spare fist clenching on his thigh. I ignore him, slurping more of my drink until there's only ice left in the bottom of my glass, and changing the subject.

“So, back to what you were saying before. I’m really sorry you have to go through that shit, honestly. That’s why I didn’t want to be like them. You deserve peace and privacy. Thank you for buying me a drink, it’s been really nice chatting to you, truly.”

With this final kind bid, I smile sweetly, and stand in departure before I royally fuck this up. He looks past me, not at me, and has to shake cobwebs from his brain almost once he realises I’m reaching for the door.

I hear him jump up, feel his lithe fingers wrap around my wrist.

“You think we’re done here?” he demands, his accent astounding.

This is… genuinely confusing. My brows furrow, my shoes scuffing on the parquet floor, “Well… yes. You can get back to your shit superstardom life, I can get back to my hotel.”

His face falls, and sullenly he asks, “You’re really leaving? I’d love to buy you another drink, go for a walk, maybe…”

“Are you doing this out of pity, guilt or pure kindness?” Shit. I didn’t mean to say that… it just sort of came out… He takes it on the chin, I’m glad to see, releasing a long held breath.

“I’d like to say the latter, since I have no reason to pity you, nor any reason to feel guilty. I just like spending time with you.”

“Okay,” I say, barely even having to think about it before my mind is made up. I smile, and he beckons the bartender over, ordering two more drinks. “Go for it.”

———

I’ve lost track of how long we’ve been here, and we seem to have had a few more drinks since my almost departure. Tom’s switched to alcoholic mixes, but I don’t mind. He seems to be easing up around me, his jumper sleeves pushed up to his elbows, his lean forearms on show and tying my tummy in knots.

Two bourbons in, Tom’s tongue is loosening up.

“Why do you call me Mr H?” he asks, his voice low, emphasis and growl on the ‘mister.’

“Well,” I start, tapping my nails against my glass, “because you haven’t given me explicit permission to call you Tom, nor do I feel like saying bloody ‘Hiddleston’ ten times in a conversation. It’s respect as well as convenience, especially because you’re older than me, and everyone older than me has always been sir, ma’am, uncle or aunty. And since you’re not a friend of my parents, the latter doesn’t seem appropriate.” I gulp some of my drink down, tilt my head to the side, and recommence. “Besides, I’m an adult, but as you’re older than me and an authority figure, it’s only respectful. Manners never fail.”

He breathes deeply through his nose, his eyes flitting over my features. “That’s a… detailed analysis. You know how old I am, then?”

“Yes. Don’t worry, you don’t look a day over forty.”

I reach over to lay a hand on his arm, his hair bristling beneath my fingertips. He elbows me lightly when I wink teasingly.

“Cheeky sod, you.”

“My apologies Mr H.”

He snaps his glass down with a brief thud, his face contorting briefly into surprise. “You can call me Tom, honestly. And I feel like a complete prat because I haven’t asked your name.”

I hadn’t realised, but he hasn’t. I don’t mind. “Y/n y/l/n.”

“Well then, Ms y/l/n, ask me owt.”

I giggle, my brows shooting up my forehead as I push my glass away across the sleek bar top. More people are here now, so I quieten myself consciously. “God you’re drunk if you’re talking like a northerner.”

“Aye like me Scotsman pa, Bonny lass,” he accentuates.

The both of us dissolve into a laughter that ends up with our hands loosely linked atop the bar. I attempt to hide my flusteredness by fanning my free hand over my burning cheeks. Tom doesn’t seem to notice, running a hand through his tousled auburn curls. I contemplate what to ask before the perfect question pops to my head: two birds with one stone. Personal yet not prying, and with enough of a personal gain for me that it’s a win-win.

“What was Eton like? I’m thinking of sending my Oaklee there.”

First his eyes bulge, then his cheeks, and he sputters on his drink, coughing. I have to pat him on the back to clear his throat, his strong, defined, muscular back… “You have a son of the age to go to secondary school?!”

Shit. “Oh my God, NO!” I correct myself quickly, squeezing my fingers around his, rising goose-bumps on his exposed flesh. “My nephew, Oaklee. I pay his school fees because my brother can’t afford them but wants him through private ed, perhaps boarding, since the schools in his area are so bad.”

He nods as though in understanding, though I know that’s borderline impossible, but he also visibly relaxes, the rigid line of his shoulders sinking, his spine curving from being ram-rod straight.

“That’s nice, and generous. School fees are no joke.”

“They’re certainly not.”

“But don’t send him to Eton. Or Harrow, or Cheltenham, or any all-boys boarding school. It’s hell. I hated almost every minute.” The sheer venom that laces his words as he spits them out like they’re poison has the hair on the back of my neck rising. I rub my thumb over the pack of his hand in hopes of offering him some consolation: he smiles. “My friends made it slightly better, but I think my parents divorce worsened things, and if, um, divorce is the case with your brother… Well, I—I’m not sure if the boys are the same now, but they still wouldn’t take kindly. E—even my youngest nephew is at Dragon now and one of the kids was torn to shreds for having separated parents: it’s what Tories are like.” I have to suppress a laugh at this, at the sheer deprecative truth of it. “It still wasn’t hugely acknowledged in my family circles even in 1995, and most of the students, um, had together parents who were having affairs, but they were together, y’know?” I smile sadly at his passion, at his anger. “And if it’s not daddy paying for private education, they’re automatically an outcast. And I was away from my sisters—one was sent to Cheltenham, but the other was by me in Wycombe Abbey—so if you have nieces as well it’ll be hard on them…” I think of Odette, but say nothing as he picks back up, his deep voice breaking. “I was bullied relentlessly for ten years. The nicknames, the beatings, fuck. I wasn’t always like, y’know… this. I was just some dweeby kid who nearly failed maths.”

I’m silent for a moment, not knowing what to say. I never meant for all of this, perhaps an anecdote and him telling me not to feed into capitalism by paying for private education. Then I clear my throat, and sneak an arm around his body, half hugging him.

“You’re gonna fucking hate me now, but I meant more about the school in itself. And of course I’m really sorry to hear that, about everything, but it’s good to know. Oaklee nor Odette will be going to boarding schools,” I say, adding a half smile for good measure.

Thankfully, it’s contagious, and he starts to laugh despite the tear falling from his eye, catching on his long, dark lashes.

“I’m sorry, I tend to ramble.”

“Don’t apologise,” I tell him, “it’s endearing. And I do care about what you have to say.”

“Thank you. What about your school, though? You’re, what, no more than ten years out of sixth form?”

“Yeah… school was still shit in the two-thousands as it was in the nineties, believe you me.”

He pushes his glass across the bar, and slides his seat closer to mine. “I don’t doubt you for a minute.”

“But my school experience… wasn’t exactly normal,” I confess. “I was heavily involved in an outside-school activity that consumed all my time and energy. I’m not sorry for it, it’s why I’m so successful in my field today, but my school life was weird, just not in the same way as yours.”

“My one sister's school life was weird. She was so involved in singing, choirs and diplomas and concerts up and down the country. I imagine yours was a little like that?”

“Yep,” I say evasively, and try not to meet his gaze until I’ve fished a menu out from behind the bar. “Care for a bite?”

———

The evening has passed us by without us realising, nibbling on just about every side on the menu to keep our peckishness at bay. The tables have been filled with customers in their cocktail get-up, implying that this bar is a little posher than my casual getup from errands earlier on, but nobody seems to be paying any mind to me, nor to Tom, in fact. A small Latin band is perched on the stage in the corner, plucking and strumming and playing their tunes. The rhythms work their way into my bones, and I find myself tapping my feet before I can help it.

“What are you doing?” Tom asks.

“What?” I reply, a smile still etched upon my face from the laughter he caused just minutes ago.

“That tappy feet thing!”

He points, and I find myself laughing a little, a gruff undertone to my laughter that he’s closed his eyes when hearing for the past four hours.

“I love your voice,” he tells me earnestly, squeezing his fingers around mine. “That… gruffness. From the smoking. Which obviously you know.” I find my chest rising and falling as I laugh silently at his gesticulations. “It suits you, gives you some edge. God, I could listen all day.”

My brows raise of their own volition, “Thank you?”

He drains the last of his drink from his glass, and I follow suit when not a moment later he’s preparing to stand up, a slight tug on my arm. He runs one skilled hand through his auburn curls.

“Do you dance?” he asks me.

That’s not where I saw tonight going whatsoever. Why does it always go this way? Why is it never ‘do you sing?’ to which I can honestly answer ‘no’. I settle for what I can, “Not if I can help it.”

“Come onnnn,” he begs, his grip tightening and his voice whining. He’s standing up now, all six-foot-three of him, and damn it if he doesn’t look endearing and convincing. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Well… I suppose it can’t hurt to give it a shot. I let him walk me to the dance floor, having treaded carefully around the tables and peoples feet, where only one couple is dancing to the beat, or rather swaying. Tom attempts to spin me—poorly, I might add—out and back in, keeping a loose grip on my fingers. I take control, turning with elegance, drawing my feet together, only to step back out and fall back to him with ease. His right arm settles on the side of my ribs, his left awaiting mine. I indulge him with a wink, but cast a glance over my shoulder, catching the eye of the band leader. I gesture for them to increase the speed, batting my lashes to get my way, and thankfully, they oblige, picking up the salsa rhythm to around one-fifteen.

“Do you know how to salsa?” I purr in Tom’s ear, my nails scratching lightly over his shoulder.

“I know enough,” he answers, smirking, “why?”

I shake my head and avert my eyes in what I hope is an enticing manner. “Follow my lead.”

He’s certainly not complaining. I feel the shiver ripple down his spine, sense his heartbeat increasing. I think before he can quite process it, we’re gliding around the floor, or rather I’m leading him around the dance floor with swaying hips and twists and kicks.

He holds me tight as I walk him through some of the more basic salsa steps: the enchufla, the croqueta complicada, more names, even adding in a 70 en la salsa, which he miraculously seems to know. I’ve seen him dance online, I’ve seen the way those hips can move, and I’m certainly not disappointed when it comes to the real life thing as we dance the basic Cuban salsa step and the dile que no all around the small dance floor, my own hips swaying and rotating in tandem with his, our bodies so flush against one another that I can feel everything.

“You’re good at this.”

“I know.”

I grind my hips into him, and he reacts, his heaving chest pressed to my back as his body rolls as though it’s the most natural thing for him: I repeat the action before linking our hands together, plucking his bruising grip from my waist to tangle our arms in a twist that slips away as I drop into the splits. Every finely tuned and perfected (on my part) move is improvised, intuitive, our bodies playing off one another and moving as the music and mood take us. We make big arms when dancing simple three-step moves to give it more of a flourish, and he just watches as I focus my movements on my hips, twisting them enticingly the way I’ve been trained to as Latin-style national champion dancer.

I’m well practised in all elements of Latin dance, but Tom seems to have some idea what he’s doing, judging by the controlled flicks he makes with his toes, the little jumps, the skilled thrusts of his hips. He likes turning me, spinning me, and doing the complex twisted arm moves, which is good, since I like them too, and I’m pleased with his instigation of such things despite the mild dizziness it causes. And that’s even before the corkscrew turns.

“You ready?” he asks breathlessly, his blue eyes alight with unadulterated glee and pure excitement.

I wink at him, taking his hand as I hook my left leg over my right in preparation. “I was born ready.”

That’s when I drop, and his hand is the only thing to keep me grounded as I spin and spin and spin crouched on the ground, hiking me up for the seventh and eighth turns, only to catch my bent and raised leg in his warm, calloused palm, keeping his grip solid as he tips me back. He searches my face for permission, granted in the subtlest nod of my head.

His hold shifts around my thigh, holding me close while loose enough that I can throw one leg around his neck, and spin around upside down, landing upright. With a hand on either hip, Tom pulls me flush against him, chest to chest, and lifts me in the air. A giggle bursts from me before I can help it, and I hold my head high while he turns in a circle with me held high above him. His biceps bulge in his jumper, his pale cheeks flushed, the veins in his forearms prominent enough to have my heart fluttering and my mouth watering. He puts me down all too soon: I liked the view.

At the big finish, he turns me once in his arms, and drops me—cautiously, stylishly—over his arm, my head tossed back and his mouth open in a wide smile.

I’m barely breaking a sweat once I’m done, but Tom’s huffing and puffing, hunched over as he flicks sweat away from his furrowed brow.

“You can dance,” he states, plain as day, “you can dance.”

“That I can.”

He’s awestruck, blushing against the applause we receive from the guests, something I take on in my stride. However, as soon as we sit down, a coughing fit slams into my lungs.

“So… this is why you shouldn’t smoke?”

“Yeah,” I hack out, “I don’t smoke much when it’s show season, but y’know.”

“Is that what you’re down here for?”

“A preliminary meeting and fitting.”

“And show season? Are you a professional?”

I smile lopsidedly at him, “Strictly Come Dancing professional for the past three years.”

His eyes shutter, his hand coming into contact with the bar before pointing vehemently at me, his face bright and wide. “I knew I recognised you! I knew it! There’s just something about you…”

“You watch?” I inquire innocently, gathering my composure.

“My mother would disown me if I didn’t,” he trails off, a hint of happiness in his eyes. “But you look nothing like anyone on there.”

I knew this was coming, so I pull out my photo and open up my cast photo, taking a hold of my cheeks on either side, pulling and pouting. His blue eyes flit between the two versions of me, almost in disbelief.

“Face tape, wig, lip fillers, contact lenses, contour, fake name. None of it's real except my talent.”

His sympathy is almost painful. He gets it now, my understanding in the street, my avoidance of certain topics, my ability to save myself from toppling over, the fact I don’t drink. I can see him piecing together the jigsaw in his head. My anxiety begins to bubble, gnawing at my nerves, but I attempt to push it down, relaxing a little.

He smiles to himself and tips the bartender who’s been serving us all. “I’ve seen and heard enough.”

I watch on, dumbstruck, as he heads for the door, but my expression soon morphs to bemusement when he turns back to me, one hand held out expectantly. “Well? Are you coming? I’d like to see what else those hips can do.”

I can’t suppress the grin breaking out over my face, nor do I care to as I fling myself into his awaiting arms, wrapping my legs around his strong waist, my hips beginning to undulate a little to the music still playing in the bar.

“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”

#tom hiddleston #twh #thomas william hiddleston #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x fem reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston x dancer reader #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleeston fan fic #twh imagine #tom hiddelston imagine

[that-little-zebunny]

Zephirah’s Masterlist

Fan Fics by me <3 / My muses are Tom Hiddleston and his characters, Sebastian Stan and his Characters & Dean Winchester <3

TOM

The Love We Lost

Pairing: Loki x Asgardian Warrior!Reader

Warning: I wrote it >…< that the 1st and main warning ehehe, angst, self hate, violence, swearing and death? maybe more on each parts.

Summary: You and Loki has been in a relationship for hundreds of years now. It was all good. He’s opening up to you. It was wonderful until the day of Thor’s coronation… sadly you were not enough.

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE *coming soon*

Random One Shots/Drabble/Imagines:

Feisty Little Fox and The Trickster

WARNING: Smut, fluff and this is my first fic so I’m warning ya’all that this might not be that good T.T I’m soooo nervous my gosh XD

PAIRING: LOKI X READER/Shifter-Fox

SUMMARY: You’re a shifter living alone in the northern part of the globe living your life peacefully and in isolation from the people that doesn’t understand what you are when a beautiful black haired man suddenly trespassed your home and your heart with a sudden connection.

SDCC2019 Tom x Reader

Warning: fluff

AN: After seeing the observation post about how Tom looked sad at the SDCC Hall H I just want to comfort him so badly.

Shhh...

Thomas Sharpe x Wife!Reader Imagine

warning: smut

Social Media AU:

My Wild Flower (CEO!Loki x Fem!Reader)

Writing Challenge:

It’s Time  (Dean Winchester x Reader)

AN: This is written for @thoughtslikeaminefield ’s 1k follower challenge ❣ I hope I did this correctly.

Prompt used: “Let’s play along and let each other lose; a win would cause alarm.”

Summary: no more second chances for YN and Dean. It’s time to move on and let go.

Warning: Angst? I’m not very sure thou.

Requests:

* Dean x Reader

Fireman Dean

Pizza & Beers drabble / warning: smut

* Tom Hiddleston x Reader

I Love Your Scars drabble / warning: insecurities & self hate

Good bye Little Trickster short fic / warning: death

* Loki x Reader

My Sunlight short fic / warning: angst & domestic violence

AN: I hope to be able to add more <3 I’m happy that I get to practice my writings and to be able to express my love and adoration to this men. They are my inspiration ~

SEB

Drabbles

CHILLS (Angst, Fluff) BuckyxMutant!Reader

Hope you’ll love them. Feel free to send opinions and comments It’ll be a good help for me. <3 Zephy

#zephirahnyxwrites #masterlist #dean winchester #tom hiddleston #fan fic #fan fictions #imagine #drabble #short au fan fic #request

[lokiskitten]

Tom Hiddleston | vampiric love

vampire!Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader

plot : Tom manages to lure you into his bedroom and decides to turn you into his midnight snack, and that in all ways possible.

warnings : vampire x human encounter, teasing, smut, unprotected sex, mention of blood, blood drinking, mention of death.

The door suddenly closed behind you, loud bang echoing through the never ending corridors that Tom’s castle contained. You were now trapped in here with him, the light that the full moon created and which passed through the window embracing his extremely pale silhouette. A couple of candles were lit in the bedroom, allowing both of you to see each other rather distinguishably. Yet, even through fear, you couldn’t help but feel attracted to the man standing threateningly before your shaky silhouette.

“At last, seems like the little mouse landed into the cat’s lethal claws.” He notified, head tilting slightly as his skin continued to glisten underneath the light of the moon. Your breath was shaky, feet backing away until your ass bumped against the edge of the bed. This sight ravished the blood drinking creature, head slightly tilting as his eyes barely squinted. His pale hands traveled up to the collar of his white Victorian shirt, pulling onto each side and allowing the light piece of clothing to fall down to the ground. He was now standing shirtless face to you, the many scars that adorned his skin visible to your eyes.

On another hand, you seemed to have lost any moving capacities which once animated your body. Bruised lips parted face to his handsomeness, heart fluttering as Tom slowly started to take a couple of shy steps towards your body. You knew about vampires and their reputation- them being absolute womanizers and heavy blood drinkers. Though, you never thought ending up between the claws of one. His arm extended towards your face, pointy nails gently caressing your pale cheek. A tear escaped your orb, sliding all the way down your cheekbone and landing onto Tom’s fingertip.

The man continued to make eye contact with you, hand moving back to his own face as he parted his lips before gentle sucking the salty water that your eye had provided him off his fingertip. You gasped, watching the way his lips wrapped around one of his natural lethal weapons. A moist sound echoed throughout the room as he pulled his finger out of his mouth, discreet smile forming on his lips as he took the initiative to take ahold of your wrist and place your palm against his abdominals. The way his stomach didn’t bulge due to his lack of respiration made you tremble, yet you couldn’t help but feel intrigued by his entire being.

The vampire had a hook on you, hypnotizing your senses with his magic and forcing you to feel enhanced by his strong aura. Thomas didn’t speak a word, yet his entire being caused your heart to flutter. Again, his head tilted as he watched the way you learned how to explore his body, believing that it was ironic for someone who would be deceased within the following hour. His other hand moved up to your cheek, caressing it with slight more eagerness than he did the first time. You leant in his cold touch, eyelids closing as your warm hand continued to stroke his toned stomach.

Gently, the vampire ended up pushing you down against the sheets, peculiar blue eyes replacing the usual red ones he adorned when hunting. Your legs spread automatically, head landing against the satin pillows as the night creature slid in between your parted thighs. His lips immediately collided with yours, crotch waving against yours as his loosened pants slid a couple of centimeters lower, revealing the top of his firm bum. His tongue attempted to slide inside of your mouth, wanting to feel the way your saliva tasted yet not as much as he wished to discover how your blood would taste sliding down his throat.

A fainted moan escaped your now free lips, Tom’s head lowering down between your breasts which he praised with kisses as soon as he had lifted your shirt. Though, he was soon to sit up, waiting for you to do same as his blue eyes scanned your body. Like an obedient puppy would’ve done, you agreed to sit up as a shy gasp escaped your lips, arms lifting above your head which allowed the vampire to remove your t-shirt. It was a dangerous game you were playing, yet you couldn’t seem to put it to an end. The vampire took your shirt off, sliding it above your head before carelessly dropping it to the ground.

Your breath was shaky, bare chest now exposed to him as he admired the way your jugular pumped blood through your skin. Saliva soon started to accumulate in his mouth, pointy canines growing out of his gum as he slowly leant towards your body. The vampire’s face neared your neck, lips parting slightly as his other hand took ahold of your opposite shoulder. The man was getting ready to bite, eyelids shutting close as his head tilted backwards slightly in order to prepare the moment where he would finally get to dig his fangs into your skin. You couldn’t help but tremble whilst apprehending what was to come, wince unexpectedly exiting your lips even though the vampire hadn’t touched you yet.

Tom understood and acknowledged your fear, fangs retracting back in his gum as his eyes opened again. The vampire agreed to back away, sitting back down onto his bum whilst making eye contact with you. A tear ran down your cheek, quiet sob escaping your lips as you couldn’t help but finally face your terrible faith. “Shhh..” he begged, sorrow reflecting in his light irises as he seemed to be able to share the same sadness which filled your entire being. The man was a monster, yet still managed to understand his prey’s fear and acknowledge it. Here was the beauty of the vampiric kind, which was shared by the way they looked.

“You won’t feel a thing. I promise.” Thomas purred before laying you back down onto the bed, fear and shock holding your back from properly reacting to his actions. It took him a couple of seconds to slide your jeans off, dropping it to the side just like he had previously done with your shirt before taking care of his own Victorian pants. The vampire’s jaw clenched as he pulled you onto his lap, hard member standing proud and tall as he wrapped his strong arms around your body for support.

It didn’t take long for his pulsating cock to slide inside of your moist entrance, moan escaping your lips which matched Tom’s fainted groans. Again, the overload of different emotions drove you unexpectedly wild, your body soon starting to bounce up and down onto his lap which created pleasant friction for both of your genitals to enjoy. His pointy nails dug into your skin, and so did yours in the vampire’s back. The man enjoyed the way you seemed to be pleased by this intercourse, his blue eyes staring up at your face as your arms wrapped around his neck for support. Feeling the warmth of a living being, of a woman, was something he never managed to get over.

Though, whilst your sight was being blurred by the heated intercourse, the blood drinker’s eyes progressively switched colors- a very dense red replacing the ocean blue he once used to perfectly adorn. The man’s fangs popped out of his gum again, your neck being in perfect reach as he was being overstimulated by the natural scent of your pheromones invading his living dead organism. And before you could notice, his teeth suddenly dug into your neck, piercing through your jugular and causing a painful moan to escape your lips.

Your body ceased to move as Tom started to suck blood out of your veins, eyes closing progressively as you could feel life be dragged out of your poor organism the more the vampire continued to enjoy his dinner. Blood soon started to coat his mouth and lips, droplets sliding down your cleavage and landing onto your folded thighs. Though your arms remained clenched around his neck, his own hands held the small of your back and the back of your neck to make sure you wouldn’t get the chance to back away.

It didn’t take long until Tom was done emptying you from your blood, a couple of seconds in fact, as thousands and thousands of years of practice had allow him to perfect his techniques.

here’s something different! I hope you guys enjoyed it. Don’t hesitate to leave a comment or a request! Love y’all. 💜

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