#i am so mentally unwell over this man it is disgusting but OH WELL WE MOVE

[sailxrmxrs]

hello i'm one of many who is unbelievably down bad for one nicholas d. wolfwood. i am also in desperate need for more fics so take this humble offering bc he will not leave my brain i cannot stop thinking about this man help. just wolfwood taking some time for himself after a long day, winding down in some rundown bar in the middle of nowhere when he spots someone who catches his eye at the other side of the bar. someone who looks equally interested in him. basically wolfwood shooting his shot and getting flustered when they give him the same energy back.

Sundown came and went, taking with it the last remaining vestiges of daylight. The clamouring sound of bustling drunkards spilled through the cracked windows of the rundown bar. The whole town looked like it was standing on its last legs, yet there was something endearing about the place. As though its people were keeping it alive, even in the face of despair. Even if their lives of struggle meant toiling day-by-day to make ends meet just enough to keep the town from collapsing to ruin, it was all worth it for a drink or two at the end of the day. And that spirit was what kept this town on its final legs, supported from the ground up by the resilience of its people. Even if that resilience came in the form of drunken celebration each night until the need for sleep drew them back to their homes, thus setting the cycle in motion again. It was a routine they'd perfected beyond measure—the very reason for their revelry. For Wolfwood, however, it was just another stop in the road. A place for him to rest his head for the night with a strong drink in one hand and a lit cigarette in the other. Nothing more, nothing less. Though he wouldn't mind if there was a little less of the noise.

He could barely think with all the shouting going around him. Though he couldn't deny it was certainly better than being stuck roaming the desert until he found a suitable resting spot. Wolfwood enjoyed travelling alone. He liked the solitude and the quiet of his own thoughts, even if he did get a little lost in them sometimes. But that's what places like this were for, to drown out some of that noise and forget all that rested on his shoulders. Forget his duties and contracts binding him to a life he was barely living. The drinks they served here were watered down so much the taste was almost unpalatable. But it was better than cloudy water, contaminated with who knows what as a direct result of a plant in need of dire attention. Wolfwood knew where to count his blessings, and a weak drink was one of them. Even with the racket going on around him, this hadn't been altogether terrible night. But, perhaps, it might just become an even better one. Across the other side of the bar he laid eyes on an unfamiliar face. They were smiling at the barkeep, laughing along with whatever he was saying. Something about them felt as though they belonged elsewhere—like they were destined for greater things and greater places than a rundown town with no prospects in sight. But where else was any better? It wasn't as though Wolfwood had anything nice to say about the ways in which he operated. Perhaps a quieter life in a place like this was a better way to live.

There was no point dwelling on the what-ifs and maybes of an alternate life. Wolfwood would not be braking free of his chains anytime soon. To dream was a fool's endeavour, and Wolfwood had no intentions of falling victim to such folly. If he lost focus now, what remained of his resolve would come crumbling down. He was not such a destructive person just yet. But with his two main vices in hand, he strongly considered adding a third. Wolfwood was no stranger to human touch, seeking out lovers in bars just like this one. Spending fleeting nights in the warmth of another's body before rising with the sun and taking his leave. It was a largely loveless act. Merely another way to pass the time and expend some of that pent up energy and frustration from the contracts that dictated his movements. Seeking the company of another was one small act of his own free will, and it seemed tonight was the night for him to be free—if only for a few short hours.

Draining the dregs of what remained in his glass, Wolfwood stood from his bar seat and made his way over to the stranger who captured his eye. They were no longer speaking with the barkeep, nursing their own glass of watered-down liquor in quiet solitude. Usually approaching a stranger in this manner was no difficult task for Wolfwood, but tonight there was a tightening sensation in his chest. As though he had become rattled with trepidation for how they might respond to his attempts at seduction. Rejections were few and far between, though were never really a setback. If someone were to decline, Wolfwood would simply move along and find another who sought human connection as he did. Suppressing whatever this bizarre feeling was, Wolfwood took those remaining steps to gently brush his shoulder against the captivating stranger's. They glanced toward him before breaking into a bright smile. Light radiated off their face, casting an almost angelic glow. Wolfwood had never seen a more beautiful smile in all his years of existence. He felt his heart shudder at the sight.

"Evening," he managed to drawl out, keeping his voice low and collected. Even if his internal self was suffering from a rare falter, he did not intend on letting that show; he was far too stoic of a man for that.

"Evening. Guessing you're new in town, huh?" They asked, voice calm and lilting. Yet Wolfwood did not struggle to hear them over the sound of the bar patrons' wild shouts and even wilder revelry. No, this stranger's voice was all he could hear. All he could think to focus on.

"That obvious? What gave me away?"

"Probably the quiet brooding alone at the bar. You play the quiet and mysterious stranger part well. It suits you."

Wolfwood wasn't expecting this. Somehow he couldn't remember how these encounters usually went. But he knew this was no ordinary meeting. "Mysterious, hm?"

They nodded, signalling for the bartender to pour another two glasses. "Please, you and I both know it's intentional."

Wolfwood leaned in a little closer, thanking the bartender for his new drink as he let himself drift nearer to his conversation partner. "Or perhaps I'm simply mysterious because I'm a stranger."

"Perhaps. But I don't buy it. Unless you're telling me you don't wander from town-to-town, visiting bars and fighting off lovers who want to see what lies beneath that awful smile."

"Awful? You wound me deeply. Do I seem such a heartless type?" Wolfwood practically held his breath as he awaited a response. He couldn't tell if this was going well or not. He was so far off his usual script that he barely knew how to keep up. It seemed he'd met his match, and that only made him more determined to figure them out. He wanted to study this stranger for hours. He yearned to hear their voice, feel their touch in all manner of ways. One night wasn't enough. He could spend an eon merely basking in their presence and it still wouldn't be enough. Wolfwood didn't know how to feel about such a tantalising thought. It was hardly characteristic of him to be so thoroughly wrapped around another's finger like this, let alone the finger of someone he had known for a few mere minutes. He wanted to hate it. But he would have been lying to himself to say that he did.

"I don't know, are you heartless?"

"I need a few more drinks before I give an answer to that." Wolfwood grimaced down at his dwindling supply. The stuff really was disgustingly weak.

"Might take more than a few to feel anything. About as much alcohol in these drinks as there is in the water." They brows furrowed as they took a sip, the expression punctuating their distaste for the drinks. It seemed even the locals despises the stuff.

"Tastes like it. Better than nothing though, right?"

They hummed a noncommittal sound. There was something they weren't saying, almost as if they were holding back from saying too much. Wolfwood yearned to pry. To hear all that ailed this person so that he might offer some sort of reprieve. An escape. But he held back. He couldn't risk seeming as though he cared for little more than something physical or meaningless. His intentions with this person held more meaning than Wolfwood had felt in years. It scared him, yet he couldn't pull away from that intense look in their eye. The quiet that descended was comfortable, the two taking sips of their drinks and accepting refills when the time came. Wolfwood could feel the gentle thrum of alcohol running through him, though far more muted than usual. He had never felt more alert. He liked it. And when the barkeep called for closing, he was content to return to his room for the night alone. Anything more would have been too greedy. And yet, when the stranger whose face only seemed even more beautiful under the moonlight reached for his hand, Wolfwood did not let go.

He didn't let go long after the sun rose and the time for him to leave came and went. Responsibilities be damned, he intended to buy as much time as he could to indulge in this stranger's touch, their kind words, their all-consuming kiss. Perhaps he would never see them again after this. He wanted to leave with no regrets. For as long as he stayed here, with them, he was free. And Wolfwood realised this was what living truly felt like. He had never felt so alive. So human. Everything else could wait as he burned all of this to memory. All of them to memory. He wanted to preserve every ounce of their being within his mind, so that long after he was gone, he could remember how it felt to be free.

[nonsensicalobsessions]

Tom & the Cookie Monster Take 2

Author’s note: @villainousshakespeare , this idea came and hit me like a brick. Hopefully it did not leave any lasting damage, nor will it give you any by reading it. Anyway, you requested: “May I please have a Tom himself fic (since you are so good at those!) maybe something set during the Broadway run of Betrayal?“ I do not know if this will live up to your praise, as this is but a shortie, but I hope you enjoy, here is your promised prompt, my dearest friend:

Two male Hiddlestons made their way through the hallway towards their apartment door. One was prancing, sprightly and happy. The other was proceeding at a trudge.

Tom was tired, and he had every reason to be. It was Saturday night, which meant there had been the matinee production, as well as the evening show of Betrayal. And while the show was going extremely well, the pace was still grueling some days.

Like today. And yesterday’s. And last week’s...

He rifled through his keys, snickering as he remembered how one fan he spoke to was under the assumption he was living in a penthouse apartment on Fifth Avenue. Erm, no. He had quite a nice furnished flat, in a secure building where he did not have to be concerned any random fan could interrupt his rare moments of private life, but it was simply a nice flat. And at the moment, one of his neighbors was evidently baking biscuits, and his stomach growled.

And not just any biscuits, but chocolate chip biscuits. Damn it. Now he was hungry, and even though he knew of at least half a dozen places that would deliver even at this hour, he was tired, and didn’t feel like interacting with anyone. He wished to take his public face off, just as he had removed his stage make up a couple of hours ago, but then went and spent the time afterwards doing stage door appearances for his fans. Which he loved doing. But now, he just felt drained.

As he found the right key, Bobby was sitting at the door obediently, but Tom could see the dog was all but vibrating to be let in. “Bob, what is it, man?” As Tom unlocked the door, Bobby let out a joyous bark and sped in so rapidly Tom was grateful he had dropped the lead, or his shoulder would have suffered a hell of a jerk.

Tom walked in, his eyes bouncing quickly, dropping his bag and pulling out his phone in a reflexive action. While he had never had a fan break into any of his digs, it had happened to several of his friends, and his fingers were already preparing to call security, even as he recognized the smell of biscuits was even stronger now.

Apparently whomever Bobby had run to greet had baked for him. Which was a pretty decent thing to do, stalker-behavior aside.

“You forgot I was coming tonight, didn’t you?” The familiar female voice was amused, as her yet-to-be-seen form was bent over in the kitchen, acknowledging Bobby’s slavish adoration.

Oh, shit. He had.

He dropped his keys in the small dish she had given him to keep his keys when she learned he kept misplacing them.

“How much trouble am I in?” Even his voice was dull.

“Oh, honestly, Tom.” An arm came up from behind him, hugging his waist and brandishing a freshly baked treat, so fresh it was being held in a napkin. “If you’re so tired that you can’t even remember having given your extra key to someone for just this purpose, I think that speaks more to exhaustion than culpability. Have a cookie, Cookie. I made them just like the recipe printed on the bag, so I can’t have messed it up too badly...”

Then another hand snaked around his waist, this one bearing the body and face of none other than the Cookie Monster, who proceeded to menace the other hand’s bounty. “Delayed gratification, Hiddleston!!” Now the female voice behind him was growly and raspy. “No cookies for you, you must practice the art of...”

“Oh, fuck that,” quoth Tom, grabbing the napkin and spinning around to the laughing face of his baker-cum-stalker. “Get the hell away from my biscuits, Cookie Monster, and take your delayed gratification and get stuffed...”

“It’s a puppet, darling, I don’t think they can get stuffed...”

“No, but they can get a fist right up their...”

“Shut up, Tom, and eat your cookie! I am shocked, shocked and appalled by your uncouth behavior...” laughed Sabrina Wright, who was clearly neither shocked nor appalled.

Tom met Sabrina three months ago, when he did an impromptu visit at a children’s hospital as Loki, complete with costume. The entire event was kept under wraps and unpublicized, as it wasn’t sponsored by anyone. Chris Evans had come to the area to visit a friend who was facing surgery, and between him, Charlie Cox, and Tom, they hatched the idea. Then at the last minute, Brie Larson found out about the plan and came along as well.

The children were ecstatic and a “Marvelous time was had by all” as Tom kept saying later, much to everyone’s general disgust as they kept throwing things at him at his apartment...but Tom had noticed that while everyone, children, parents, siblings, and staff were excited and clamoring to be involved in the fun, there were a few patients that were just too ill to participate, and he and his friends made a point to leave some things aside for those kids to have, and to see if there was anything they could do for them once the furor calmed down.

There was one nurse that never joined in the carefully controlled chaos, but went about caring for, and ultimately consoling, the ones who wished to play but couldn’t, or were too ill to notice, or care. Tom saw her picking one child up, and simply rocking him in her arms in a rocking chair for awhile, rubbing his back, and apparently singing to him. He made a mental note to say hello to her as well. He knew there was always someone that had to stay behind and work when everyone was enjoying these kinds of parties, and he wanted to let her know he saw and was touched by the work she was doing with so much heart.

Once the brouhaha and the dust settled, Loki stepped aside, found Nurse Sabrina, and asked if the other children would be interested in seeing the Marvel crew, and she grimaced.

“It’s very kind of you to inquire, uh, Loki, if you and your...cohort would like to perhaps wave at the children from the doorway if they are awake, that would be fine, but that is the most I can allow. They really are quite sick.”

Chris stepped up. “Is it all right if we leave them some signed posters and things like that?”

“Cap, I know that would make them very happy, even if we have to put them up outside of their rooms, looking in...!”

Loki looked into the room where he had seen the little boy Sabrina had rocked. He seemed so frail... “Erm, that little boy...will he be alright?”

Sabrina’s face buttoned up. “I’m afraid I cannot comment on his prognosis, Loki. I will say...I wish you had healing powers. For all of these children, obviously...but especially for him. He was so distressed he could not come out and see you, in particular. He thinks you are, ah, badass. I do not bother correcting his more colorful speech. It’s not relevant.”

“I see. Is he awake?”

“Yes, he is, but I cannot allow you to go in...”

“I understand...tell this young Midgardian to expect a visit in a few minutes...”

One of the giveaway items they had was a small t shirt, which Tom had signed by both characters and actors, and then proceeded to his room.

Small Tim Curran was wondering why Nurse Sabrina had come in, and insisted that she comb his hair, and wash his face...and then...

“Midgardian.”

“Holy sh...smokes,” the little boy breathed. Standing in the doorway was none other than the OG, the badass himself... “Loki?”

“I understand you are unwell and as such I am not to enter your presence. I would not wish to undermine your recovery. However, I come bearing gifts.”

Sabrina entered, grinning from ear to ear, and showed him the T-shirt. Loki had even doodled his face next to his name. “I have embued it with as much healing seidr as possible. I do not know if it will be effective against your Midgardian illness, but I do know it will aid your prodigious courage and strength, provided you heed the instructions of Healer Sabrina, and all others who are working in your aid.”

Captain Marvel, Captain America, and Daredevil also spoke to him personally, adding what qualities they added to his shirt.

Tim was in heaven, and as Sabrina was looking at his vitals, saw he was getting over excited, and thought she would have to cut the visit short, but seeing as she was getting concerned, the actors all proclaimed they needed to depart to return to their duties.

Tim fell asleep that night clutching his shirt, and would not be parted from it. Loki would be pleased to know it did impart healing powers, because it brought the little boy so much happiness...

Tom called Sabrina the next day, and asked if there was anything else he could do for the children in the wing, and Sabrina replied they were still very excited, and he had done more than enough. She was very grateful. She was also very thankful he called to speak with her personally, not because she was flattered on a personal standpoint (although she was) but because her superiors in administration would be quick to turn it into a publicity request or worse, a financial one).

Tom shyly admitted he did have an ulterior motive for asking to speak with her personally...he wanted to know if he could see her sometime.

Something about the small nurse had gotten under his skin. Maybe it was the way she stuck to the background the entire afternoon, even when everyone was getting into the big group photo. Maybe it was the way she never asked for a thing herself, even when they were all speaking casually and privately at the end, when she easily could have. No one would have minded, and even Evans and Larson commented on it over pizza and beer later that evening, how she didn’t ask for a selfie, an autograph, nothing, even though she was as friendly and pleasant as old be...

Cox noticed how Tom blushed when Evans joked about he couldn’t get over someone didn’t want to get a photo with the man who saved New York, or the bastard that almost destroyed it. Cox noticed everything...as he was leaving for the night, he asked Tom, “Are you going to try to get Nurse Ratched’s phone number?”

Tom had flared, “Don’t do that. Don’t make fun of her.”

Cox grinned. “Ah hah. So that’s the way the wind is blowing...” and walked away, whistling.

Coffee became an exchange of What’s App phone numbers. Both of them worked long hours, so texting was a godsend. Texts became marathon phone calls at odd hours of the day, which became meetings in strange places to avoid the paparazzi, until they stumbled into each other’s arms, and each other’s beds.

Sabrina was like no one Tom had ever met: calm, compassionate, cheerful, and not giving a tinker’s damn about the industry, gossip columns, and all the rest of it. When he hesitantly pointed this aspect of her personality out to her she looked at him as though he was something of interest under a microscope.

“Sweet man, I act like I don’t care because I truly don’t. It’s completely irrelevant. Unimportant. Trifling. I have held children’s beating hearts in my hands while doctors have desperately tried to sew them back together in operating rooms because bullets ripped through their little bodies and their bedrooms in housing projects. I’ve held hysterical parents back as they’ve tried to somehow willtheir dying children back to life as they take their last breaths. I’ve held newborns in my hands as they have been only seconds old, and I have held children in my arms as they’ve breathed their last. That, to me, is real. That is life. And it comes wrapped up in tears and laughter and vomit and shit and blood and love and love and love. If some paparazzi, interviewer, man on the street, or tabloid tried to give me shit for loving you, ask me how much I’d care? The answer is not at all. It’s not going to change my mind, or my life.”

Tom knew, then, he had found his one, the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, and grow old with, maybe even have a family of his own with...the question was, would she want the same...?

“...Tom? Tom?...Earth to Major...oh, you know what? Forget about it, Major Tom has crashed, Houston, we have a problem,” sighed Sabrina looking at her lover who had fallen asleep on the sofa still clutching part of a cookie he had yet to finish.

“Well, Bobby, it looks like another night of delayed gratification for me...good thing he’s so cute, and I happen to love the charming beanpole,” she commented wryly, only to see that Bobby was also lying on the floor asleep...and farting.

“Good God, what is it with the Hiddleston men tonight, I wonder?” Laughing quietly, Sabrina got up and made sure the bed was ready (and not in the hapless disarray of clothing tossed all around, which was not usual but happened enough to be worthy of a check). She turned down the covers and made sure there was a bottle of water on Tom’s nightstand.

As she was doing this, Tom woke up with a jerk, and he looked around for Sabrina. He wasn’t quite awake, wasn’t asleep, and Sabrina wasn’t there...she wasn’t there, she had finally done it, come to her senses and left him, he had forgotten she was coming to spend the weekend with him, one the rare occurrences she had the entire weekend off, and then he goes and falls asleep on her, no, noton her, but next to her like a right pillock, as if she wasn’t even there...no, no...he knew it was going to happen eventually, she was too lovely a person to put up with him and his bullshit, the way he was so self-absorbed and caught up in his own problems and life, she was right, she dealt in the real world, and...

He put his head in his hands. “I’m sorry, Sabrina...so sorry. You deserved better, but I loved you the best I could,” he whispered. “I gave you all the heart I have...”

“What’s this then?” A soft voice, sweet like melted chocolate, soothing as a warm kiss...

“Sabrina!” His head shot up so quickly she winced at the cracking sound from his neck, and then saw his reddened, swollen eyes.

“Ah, love, what is it? Nightmare?” She came and extended her hand to him. “Come with me, you’re exhausted, and we’ll cuddle.”

“You’re still here.”

She looked at him tolerantly. “Yes, Tom. Still here. Complete with my Cookie Monster puppet, just to drive you mad. Come to bed. I’ll snuggle with you and chase the bads away, I promise. The only monster here is the blue one eyeing your cookies, and I’ve put him away.”

He took her small hand, and smiled. “There will be no delayed gratification in this house. We will enjoy the things we love, and live the one life we have to its fullest...no longer am I going to delay giving my heart what it desires most...I shall be bold, and decisive...Bobby, you have my express permission, nay, encouragement, to destroy the Cookie Monster, and anything else that dares come between myself and my love...”

Yes. He would be bold. Tomorrow, he would ask her if she would consider becoming a permanent star in his sky, he would stop living in fear of her disappearing the moment he closed his eyes, he would throw caution to the four winds, and belay any idea of delaying his happiness, and hopefully, hers, for any reason, a moment longer. There would be declarations made, and promises, and...

He tripped over his shoes.

“Careful! Harsh, Tom, very harsh...and Bobby, don’t you dare.” They turned off the lights and made their way to bed, Tom sleepily stripping along the way, making Sabrina laugh. “Ah, what the world to pay to see this strip show...”

“Quiet, Woman. This is not a strip show, this is a ritual divestiture of armor.”

“Uh huh,” she skeptically agreed, looking at the trail of clothes behind him. “So, if I was to get undressed like that...”

“Ah, now that would be a strip show, and a lovely one, indeed...”

“Sexist double standards...here, sit down, I will tuck you in...”

“Promise?”

“Tom!”

The naughty little boy expression he gave her was ruined by his yawn he could barely cover. Sabrina laughed as she quickly undressed and put on her sleep clothes, only to be greeted by Tom’s gentle snore the moment she turned out the light. He was so very tired. She was glad he could relax, and find some rest.

And while yes, it was definitely a night for delayed gratification, they had the whole weekend to look forward to sharing. She, for one, was so looking forward to bringing out the Cookie Monster puppet in the morning...maybe as part of a wake up call...

Tagging @villainousshakespeare , @winterisakiller , @vodka-and-some-sass , @lotus-eyedindiangoddess , @just-the-hiddles , @yespolkadotkitty , @hopelessromanticspoonie , @theheartofpenelope , @sabine-leo , @wegingerangelica , @ciaodarknessmyheart , @wrathkitty , @rhemasky , @catsladen​ @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​ , @redfoxwritesstuff​ , @the-insomniac-cat2​ , @alexakeyloveloki​ , @myoxisbroken​ , @ladyfluff​ , @toomanystoriessolittletime​