#Tom Hiddleston/Loki | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chantsdemarins · 2 years ago

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🎄Customer Service Kink (Tom/Loki X Female Reader)

Okay, this might qualify as another Winter Warmer but it might also be too late to add more to that collection! @lokisgoodgirl you tell me!!

So you can just take this as a stand-alone! This is a Tom/Loki mashup fanfic! This is also my first drabble-ish piece. I hope someone out there likes it! Ugh! Nervous.

It's EXPLICIT 🥵 so if you are too young for this please don't read it. Also since it's a Tom/Loki mashup I will go ahead and say...of course, I made this all up! This is not the real Tom Hiddleston, just the Tom of my imagination...sigh.

NOTE: For my non-American readers (just in case you don't have this ridiculous tradition), according to Wikipedia a white elephant party is "...a party game where amusing and impractical gifts are exchanged during festivities. The goal of a white elephant gift exchange is to entertain party-goers rather than to gain a genuinely valuable or highly sought-after item."

Summary: This year’s white elephant party gift is a little better than last year's DIY slushie cup…

🎄Customer Service Kink

December 2018

You opened the door, and he turned around, leaving the girl he was apparently fucking up against the wall-visibly distraught…to say the least.

“Hey!” she growled, pulling down her tight body con dress bashfully, and trying to fix her hair.

“That was incredibly rude to just stop like that,” she said, glaring at you both while storming off.

He had just been 100% involved with her. Now he was 100% staring in your direction. What was happening here? Fast words spilled out of your mouth.

“Oh god, sorry, I was actually just trying to find where the drinks were. I am going to leave now….” You began to back out of the room, but you knew who he was right away.

You couldn’t believe he would be someplace like this. His reputation for being such a "nice guy" seemed to be crumbling second by second as the scene you found yourself in unfolded.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said coldly, with a flat countenance that was unnerving. Prickly even.

He was right. You were not privy to Hollywood parties like this. You were here by accident, by chance. You were not dressed for the occasion either.

To start with, you still had your clothes still on.

You glanced nervously around the room you had haphazardly walked into. You had been separated from your friend earlier while trying to walk through a full-on naked EDM dance party.

Continuing to wander through the big mansion for what felt like hours, growing more and more alarmed at the activities going on had led you to this moment.

This room you’d stumbled upon was decorated in black, barely lit candles adorned side tables, smells of alcohol, cigarettes, and other illicit things filled the space so densely you could scarcely breathe.

You could barely think.

You could also smell his cologne as he closed the space between you. It smelled of blood oranges and his fancy car's leather interior.

These were the only things on his person, he was naked except for his rather expensive-looking blue cardigan you were certain was cashmere.

Why did he care that you had come into the room when he was fucking that girl? Everyone in this tiny room was fucking…everyone at this party was fucking or just about to-so why didn’t he just let you leave?

You were rattled. Where had your friend gone?

You looked around the room again, trying to shake his eye contact. You poked your head outside the room, looking for Emily, but she was still nowhere to be found. There were only the rapturous bodies around you, full of sweat and moans, which seemed stereotypical of what you’d guessed a Hollywood sex party would be like.

You laughed a little at the thought of how predictable humans could be. Except for this one staring you down. He didn't add up.

You finally spoke, defending yourself.

“I was invited,” you lied.

You weren’t invited. You and Emily had been gifted invites last night at your company's white elephant holiday party. In retrospect that now seemed like a sick joke. Whichever co-worker was behind this, was truly twisted!

He continued talking as you shifted on your heels.

“No, you were most certainly not invited, I would know. This is my friend’s party. It’s by invitation only,” he countered with a sharp inhalation that narrowed his already chiseled face.

You held your breath. Was he threatening you? Mr. Internet boyfriend? Mr. God of Chaos and kindness? You’d been wrestling with these Hollywood people for years, but their nerve never ceased to amaze you. You certainly could not tell him you got these invites at a white elephant party. He might not even know what that was, being British.

“Where’s your friend then?” he continued, running his long fingers across the outline of his sharp jaw.

“Perhaps somewhere else spying on celebrities too?”

Now he was just being an entitled asshole. That was enough.

“You know, for someone with a reputation for being “the nicest guy in Hollywood” you seem like a dick.” The irony was not lost on you that his huge, gorgeous dick was right in front of you. Maybe it was a slip-up that you called him a dick in your nervousness. He noticed you were looking at him. All of him. Your eyes hadn’t moved from him in fact. Shit. Shit. Shit.

His eyes now traveled up your body, holding every ounce of you. He stepped back some, perhaps to take even more of you in. His eyes narrowed.

“Something caught your eye?” he mumbled, biting his lip a little, changing his interrogation into something...else.

“I wasn’t looking at you!” you declared, feigning decency.

If you only had your goddamn phone, you could text Emily and get out of here, but it was locked away in some weird makeshift cloakroom manned by people who looked like they would have been more comfortable serving drinks on the lounge of a spaceship…

Maybe this was one of those weird moments that parallel the animal kingdom. You were just a random female who got in the way of this British bastard's mating ritual, and now since his first chick apparently slinked off, he was going to have you! Dear lord.

He didn’t wait for you to answer him or make any other decisions.

Suddenly he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you to the balcony. Using his free hand to unlatch the glass door and push you through with the other. He seemed to pirouette, gracefully maneuvering through bodies and the decomposing refuse of the evening. Discarded bras, boxer shorts, sex toys, lube, and fishnet stockings rolled up in little balls, all obstacles along his path, cleared with ease.

“Wait, wait, what are you doing??” You were frantic. Was he throwing you off the third floor into the LA night? His fiendish stare was growing more and more laced with intent.

“I think you talk too much,” he said once you were on the balcony. The chill of the night coursed over his primarily naked form. The tactile juxtaposition of his hard body with the soft cashmere of his cardigan was not lost on you. It was a mood.

The holiday decorations on the balcony flickered on and off. There was a goddamn Christmas tree out there too. Strands of silver tinsel were blowing in the wind that whipped through the ridiculous hills. But you could not take your eyes off his body, even as you tried to orient yourself to the scene.

Lithe and wiry yet entirely carnal. It was like he’d lived in his skin for a thousand years. Every moment a graceful execution of awareness and now seemingly an invitation…to know him.

“You are, um, masterful with your body, um….” you tried to compliment him in the middle of this chaos. You were scared, but there were worse things than being on a balcony of a mansion in the middle of the Hollywood hills trapped by this man. You’d been in similar sketchy situations, but none quite like this.

As if he was reading your mind, he breathily said, “This is what celebrities are. We are for public consumption. We are here for you.”

“You are?” you said, maybe a little confused. Was he mocking you, or was this perhaps some kind of kink?

Then you thought about it. He wasn’t entirely wrong, but maybe this "at your service" was his thing? Possibly he had a little customer service kink?

If that was the case, could you play the part of the customer?

A million thoughts raced through your head again. You dealt with stressful things all day, you could think your way out of this. You did take acting classes in college, after all...

You decided it was his kink. He was an actor. He sold his art for a living, so why not his body? This was it. You'd figured him out.

You tried to remember your college class, you got into a part by mostly letting go and focusing on every detail around you. So, you stilled your heart which was threatening to leave your chest, and breathed, accepting the invitation he was extending.

You fixed your gaze on him, and spoke, praying you got this right.

“I paid good money for this tonight, sir. 5,000 dollars better give me something extraordinary, this is my Christmas present after all.”

Maybe it was a stupid thing for you to say. Perhaps you’d read him wrong, but then he pulled you to him.

Bingo.

“I don’t have dissatisfied customers. Especially during the peak holiday shopping season,” he purred.

“What does the lady like?”

Good lord. You swallowed audibly. So, you two were on. This was happening.

Being honest wasn’t easy for you. Especially under pressure, but if you were ever going to get better at telling anyone-let alone a kinky impromptu celebrity lover, you better try.

The following things that unraveled out of your mouth next were a fever dream at best.

You stood up tall and commanding. The customer is always right.

“I want you to stop fucking around and stroke that big fat cock of yours,” you tried to keep from smiling as you demanded he comply with your orders.

His 'good guy' was showing slightly as he considered your request. A slight smile threatened to inch across his face.

He took a few breaths and then moved his large hands over his cock, stroking it lightly. Your eyes were glued to the veins in his hands. Were they popping out? They were, goddamn it. They were.

The careful way his fingers held his cock, he was savoring every touch.

Touching himself turned him on.

Christ. One of your kinks was his kink too. Your luck this evening was astounding.

You could remember no more words from him after that—just his immediate, unfettered approach. You both began to hurriedly undress you. He plopped you up on the railing. You looked over out into the night, was that a coyote you heard howling? It was so dark out there…

Noticing you were a little nervous about falling, he steadied you with one hand, while he removed your pants with the other. This was definitely not his first rodeo.

He moved closer, his free hand grasped your breasts, tugging. He was kissing you now, his lips on your neck. Sucking. Pulling your hair back to make sure he could kiss your ear, nipping on your lobes, his tongue moving inside. His lips found yours, and as his passion seemed to grow, his teeth clanked against yours. Clumsy but earnest.

He pulled your lower lip with his mouth, biting. Your eyes must have been closed because once you opened them, you saw he’d finally removed the cardigan sweater he was wearing.

He was completely naked now.

You weren’t fully undressed, but it seemed he didn’t want to waste more time before his face was between your legs. Panties pushed aside and his mouth molded to your sex in such a precise way you immediately wondered if this man did do this professionally.

His wild tongue now lapped at your core relentlessly. Your hands folded through his curls, pulling, hanging on for your life. One leg hitched on his shoulder while your bottom barely held its place on the rail.

Then without warning, he took both of his large hands and held your ass, pulling your sex deeper into his mouth. You were not able to keep your balance. He knew this. This cunning fuck. He knew what he was doing.

You collapsed on his body, and you both fell to the ground. You arched backward and prayed to God Emily had found some other random invitee to talk to. You prayed she had not come looking for you. His eyes, the most cerulean blue you’d ever seen, almost seemed filled with tears. Was he crying? Should you check in? Jesus. Why are rich people so complicated?

You thought about saying something but didn’t. You were already in this. You were going to keep going.

Sliding back from his wanting mouth, you dragged your obscenely wet sex along his obnoxiously taut stomach until you were close enough to grab his cock with your right hand. You lifted yourself up, maybe with a slight twinge of caution-you proceeded to rub the tip through your folds. The slip was insane, and it would only take a flick of your wrist until he was entirely sheathed. He perhaps felt your momentary caution, so he placed his hand over yours-guiding himself in. Christ!

You made a slight moan and a slight quiver as you shimmied down on him. His eyes were watching your every move.

This was his thing, rapt attention to detail. It was unnerving and very erotic, maybe the most erotic thing you’d ever experienced.

His eyes watched his cock disappear inside you. Once fully there, he didn’t seem able to keep up the bad boy act. He fully smiled, almost as if to say, “Are you going to be able to handle this?” He knew what he had.

You weren’t entirely sure. There was no room. He filled you completely. If you were leading the rest of this dance, you’d forgotten the steps, so he instinctively placed both of his hands on your hips.

“Move slowly. I have you,” he said, still watching.

Your face was blushing. A crimson hue spread and decorated your chest. This was too much. Did you sign an NDA? Were there going to be legal ramifications?

But you remembered what to do.

You remembered to breathe and feel. You fought another smile emerging as his hands moved from your hips to your hands. His fingers laced through yours, and his hips arched up, sending his cock deeper. Waves of sensation were threatening to overwhelm you. You could feel every part of him. You were tracking your shared euphoria as it grew. You both intensified your pace, and when he almost went too hard, he pulled himself back, slowing down-savoring you. Every move of his body was attentive and intelligent. He grabbed your breasts and brought them to his mouth, taking each nipple in delicate worship. Maybe he didn’t want this to end. You didn’t want this to end. Not tonight. Not this month. Not ever. Oh no, what was happening?

You suddenly felt something like...jealousy. You suddenly didn’t want to imagine him moving on to the next woman, man, or anyone.

He could tell you were somewhere else as you continued to move your hips, lost in your feelings. This time the tears were in your eyes. You were not part of the elite. Therefore, you didn’t go to sex parties. This wasn’t like you. You didn’t do casual so well.

“Hey…,” he whispered.

“Come back to me,” his hands found yours again, fingers intertwined again. He brought one of them to his lips and kissed it.

“Are you okay?” This time he stopped moving beneath you. He gently pulled you off him and sat you both up.

“I get it,” he said a little awkwardly.

“You might not,” you replied, trying to remain strong and reminding yourself you could have lovers. You had lovers. He was just such a good lover.

You put your hair behind your ear and looked at him as you sat inside his mammoth legs, staring at him. Passion still swirling in your body. The chilly wind found you both. He looked around, and with a long reach, he found his sweater and placed it around your shoulders. You smelled his cologne again. Blood oranges and leather interiors.

“I’m sorry. Did I just ruin everything?” you said, not looking at him.

“I did not expect to get emotional.”

He leaned in closer, making sure you were paying attention, holding your chin with one of his large hands.

“Me either,” he said.

“What, you are feeling emotional too?”

“I thought you saw me crying earlier?” he said coyly.

“Those were tears?”

“Jesus. Woman, yes, those were tears! Look, I’m not some callous fuck with no emotions. This was very emotional for me too.”

“But when I walked in the room, you were fucking someone else…so I assumed.”

"Yes, oh, that. I know. God. Why are things always like this?"

He rubbed his shoulders with his hands nervously as he tried to explain himself.

"You go to these events, or at least someone like me goes to these events because I can, and I leave half of myself back in my hotel room. You turn off so much, and I just couldn’t with you. Maybe because I haven’t had sex with a normie in a long time..."

"Wait, did you just call me a normie?"

“Well, aren’t you?”

"What is your definition of "normie"-If working a 9-5 job makes me a normie and not having a trust fund, then I guess I am."

Looking slightly offended, he countered, "That’s not what I meant!"

What came out of your mouth next surprised you both. A surge of clarity came over you.

"Maybe we should stop talking and just finish what we started."

He seemed to recognize that more discussion would likely lead you both into philosophical territory neither of you wanted to trek across at the moment. He looked at you. Eyes wide and beaming.

“I am still quite hard for you, my little normie darling.”

You aimed one of your balled fists, intending to hit him, but he intercepted and pulled your wrist sideways and down. He launched his body over yours, pinning both arms over your head. Stradling you now, with his cock on your stomach.

“As I said, I am determined to deliver 100% customer satisfaction.”

You sighed. Why not let him? It’s just an orgasm. It’s just another ten minutes or so with one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen, let alone had inside you.

"Okay."

"Okay, what, darling?" he teased, still holding your arms above your head.

"Okay, satisfy me," you relented.

"Satisfy you with what exactly, pet?"

"Your huge cock," you said, knowing this was likely also his kink. So why not oblige?

"My pleasure," he said, loosening one of your hands long enough to guide himself back inside you. You would be lying to yourself if you didn’t admit it was one of the most glorious feelings you’ve ever had.

You repeated a mantra in your head, “Just go with it. Just enjoy it. It’s Christmas.” He grabbed both of your hands again, this time pinning them harder. Once more, almost on cue, as if reading your mind, he said, "You’ve been a good girl."

You might have rolled your eyes a little as he proceeded to ruthlessly fuck you, his cock so expertly aligned for pleasure. He swirled his thumb across your clit. He pushed your legs up further along with your arms.

You were going to come hard, and he knew it. So was he. The vulnerability returned as you saw him getting closer. His movements become erratic. His pace in ruins. He didn’t pull out. He simply came inside you, sweet and resonant, filling you. You came shortly after, gasping for air, finally wringing your arms free so you could wrap them around him. Both out of breath, you exchanged glances. You were both too smart for role-playing, but it worked this time.

He looked like he was thinking something over, as you slowly moved to get dressed, understanding your time was running short either the party would consume him again or Emily would find you-both of those things hastened your final descent away from his warm body.

"How did you end up here normie?" he finally asked you.

"I don't think you'd believe me."

"Try me."

"White elephant gift. My stupid colleague put this under the tree at our holiday party. We didn't know what it was until we got here and surrendered our phones in that weird cloakroom. I think whoever gifted us the invites was trying to piss someone off here...you know two outsiders show up, throw off the scene...it's a classic."

"Well, it worked didn't it?" he laughed pulling his sweater over his naked body, which must be freezing by now.

"Yeah and no phones, so there's no way I'll ever be able to contact you, I can't possibly remember a British phone number anyway, arent' they like a hundred numbers or something?"

"You don't even know my name either, so no looking me up on Instagram mister," you laughed a little sadness punctuating your candor again. He was good. Really good. Probably at everything he did. Not just fucking normies.

"I have a pretty good memory if you want to try me, what's your name? Might as well tell me, since you were contraband tonight anyway. I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time earlier." he laughed and once again bore his eyes into your soul.

There seemed no harm in telling him, it's not like you would actually see him again.

"My name is Y/N," you squeaked out as you pulled your boots back on.

He smiled and opened the glass balcony doors for you both, leading you back into the chaos. He quickly put on his clothes while you tried not to look around.

"You aren't staying?" you wondered aloud.

"Right, I don't think so actually"

He was about to say something else when Emily walked into the room, cutting him off, and looking slightly horrified.

"Y/N where have you been! We need to get out of here!"

Emily then looked at him and then back at you, and looked at him again.

"You are...you are Tom Hiddleston...Loki," Emily mumbled barely able to make out words.

"Thanks for blowing my cover," his stern face returned momentarily.

"Oh Jesus, I'm sorry!" Emily looked even more horrified and looked around wondering if anyone heard her.

"Just kidding!" Tom said, smacking her arm lightly.

"Everyone knows everyone here, all good."

Emily looked at you again, then Tom again. Questions tumbled in her head.

"Do you two know one another?"