#tom hiddleston voice appreciation

[anyca786]

Press Conference

Platonic!Marvel cast (Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan, Benedict Cumberbatch, Anthony Mackie, Tom Hiddleston) x actress!reader

Summary: When a notorious press member became too personal,your marvel family stood up for you.

The flashbulbs exploded in synchronized bursts as you entered the Endgame press conference, the air thick with anticipation. You, the newest member of the MCU family, were the talk of the town, and tonight, all eyes were on you.

The lights dimmed, a hush fell over the packed auditorium. All eyes swivelled towards the entrance as the press conference host boomed, "Let's give a warm welcome to Y/N L/N, our newest addition to the Marvel Cinematic Universe!"

Chris Evans, seated beside Benedict Cumberbatch, couldn't help but steal a glance, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. Sebastian Stan, across from him, mirrored the sentiment, his gaze lingering a beat longer. Tom Hiddleston, ever the gentleman, offered a small, knowing nod, while Anthony Mackie, your on-screen partner, winked playfully, muttering, "Ready to steal the show, Y/N?"

After introductions and greetings, everyone settled into their assigned sofas, you positioned amongst the Avengers heartthrobs. The press conference began, questions flying thick and fast, your name met with excited murmurs and camera clicks.

You settled onto your designated sofa, a nervous flutter in your stomach. But as the press conference began, you found your rhythm, your wit and intelligence shining through your responses. Your laughter filled the room, captivating not just the audience, but also the men around you.

Their gazes, once discreet, became bolder. Chris leaned in, his smile widening with every insightful point you made. Benedict chuckled at your witty retort, his eyes sparkling with appreciation. Sebastian's lips twitched, and Tom offered a thumbs-up, his smile tinged with a hint of something deeper. Even Anthony, usually the joker, seemed captivated, his gaze lingering on you with newfound respect.

Then, the atmosphere shifted. A reporter, notorious for his inappropriate remarks, directed his attention solely at you, his motives seemingly more personal than professional, began peppering you with flirtatious questions, his gaze lingering a little too long on your figure. The room grew tense, and you could sense a change in your fellow MCU stars. Chris's normally relaxed posture stiffened, his jaw clenching imperceptibly. Sebastian's smile vanished, replaced by a steely glint in his eyes. Tom, even Tom, seemed to radiate a cool disapproval.

"Y/N," the reporter drawled, his voice dripping with insincerity, "you're absolutely captivating. Tell us, does playing alongside such handsome co-stars come with any perks?"

Benedict leaned closer, his voice barely a whisper, "You don't have to answer that, Y/N. He doesn't deserve your attention." His words, laced with a quiet intensity, sent a wave of gratitude through you.

You gave him a polite smile, your response witty and deflecting. But you saw Chris clench his jaw, and Sebastian crossed his arms, a scowl forming. You appreciated their silent show of support, focusing on the next question.

However, the reporter persisted. "Come on," he pressed, "surely there's some juicy behind-the-scenes romance brewing..."

Before you could even formulate a reply, a chorus of voices interrupted.

Suddenly, Chris interrupted, his jaw clenched, stood up, his voice low and dangerous. "Excuse me, but your line of questioning is overstepping boundaries."

Anthony, equally protective, rose, his voice booming, "Show some respect, man!"

Benedict, ever the diplomat, interjected, "Let's keep things professional, shall we?"

Sebastian, his eyes narrowed, added, "We won't tolerate any further disrespect towards Y/N."

Tom, ever eloquent, finished the thought, "Her talent speaks for itself, no need for cheap tactics."

The reporter, flustered and intimidated, stammered an apology, slinking back in his seat. You sat there, speechless, the warmth of their protectiveness washing over you.

The press conference continued, but the mood had changed. The air buzzed with a new energy, a silent understanding between you and the men around you. You were no longer just the newest star; you were their colleague, their friend, and they would fiercely protect your place in their universe.

Later, after the formalities were over, Chris approached you, a sheepish grin on his face. "Sorry about that," he muttered, "we don't take kindly to anyone disrespecting our team."

You smiled, touched by their protectiveness. "It means a lot," you admitted, "having you all have my back."

A comfortable silence settled between you, before Chris chuckled. "Besides," he winked, "who wouldn't stand up for someone as brilliant and beautiful as you?"

Your cheeks flushed, and you laughed, the warmth in Chris's eyes making your heart skip a beat. Maybe being an Avenger wasn't just about saving the world, but also finding a new kind of family, one that protected you not just from villains, but also from inappropriate reporters and perhaps, even budding feelings.

And as you looked around at the smiling faces of your co-stars, you knew you wouldn't trade this experience for anything, even if it meant facing a few intrusive questions along the way. After all, who wouldn't want to be protected by Earth's Mightiest Heroes, both on and off screen?

Please suggest anything related to marvel characters, cast or actors. I'm very new to this, I just started yesterday *cries*

[peppermintquartz]

"Why do we have to wear tuxes?" Buck grumbles as he comes out of the bathroom, tugging at his collar.

"Because we are attending a formal event, darling," Tommy says absently, taking one of Buck's wrists to fasten silver cufflinks for him. They're elegant, inset with some kind of green stone, so they probably belonged to Tommy's late grandfather.

The darling is what catches Buck's attention. He and Tommy are attending a wedding, one of Tommy's old army buddies getting hitched to some wealthy socialite, and the wedding dinner is black tie. Tommy already has a tux in his closet, and took Buck to get one altered from an off-the-rack Armani. Buck wasn't really keen on spending the money on a suit he probably wouldn't wear more than once, but Tommy insisted, and Tommy so seldom insisted on anything that Buck didn't really like.

Once both cufflinks are fastened, Tommy takes a step back and looks Buck up and down. He smiles at his boyfriend, slow and appreciative.

"You look very good, Evan." Tommy's gaze sweeps over Buck once more.

"You're not too shabby yourself," says Buck. It's true, too; Tommy's custom tux was tailored to fit him perfectly, although he admitted that a few alterations had to be made recently because he'd put on a bit of weight. Buck would feel bad about that, but he's the one making sure Tommy ate more than just grilled chicken breast and steamed vegetables. (Slightly exaggerating there, but Tommy is very conscious of his food choices. Not the same way Buck is.) "Very Double-O Seven."

"An American version only," Tommy says, grinning. "My British accent is horrendous."

Buck raises an eyebrow, and then thinks a little, before he says, "My name is Bond. James Bond."

Tommy's expression of amusement shifts into something like amazement. "That was... That was so hot. How did you do that? Can you say something else? In that accent?"

"Something else?" Buck says, in that accent, because he can be a little shit. He smirks and closes the distance, a hand smoothing down Tommy's lapel, resting at the top of his pants. "Perhaps later, you can show me around your lair. Disclose your evil machinations to me, in a gloating monologue."

But the way Tommy's cheeks and ears go pink and the way his tongue darts out to lick his lips tell Buck that Tommy won't be able to talk much. With a saucy smile, Buck kisses Tommy lightly and steps back. Because he can be a gentleman.

"James Bond fantasies, huh," he says, in his regular voice. "I learnt a bit to impress a girl who was super into Tom Hiddleston. Didn't work for her, alas."

Tommy clears his throat. "Definitely working for me. And you look so edible in the tux. After the wedding, when we come back, you're fucking me while wearing it"

"No argument there." Buck grins. He heads to the door of their hotel room where his shoes are, and wonders how Tommy will react when Buck breaks out the accent in the middle of having sex. Some dirty talk in a British accent might be an interesting button to press...

Oh yeah, Buck is definitely going to try it.

--

edited on AO3

[mochie85]

Choices

Part of @the-slumberparty Week 1: "I Spy" Writing Challenge

One-Shot Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Loki plays a game with you on making the right decision. A/N: Also, 🥳Happy Birthday🥳 Tom Hiddleston! I think it's very fitting I post a Loki fic for his birthday, no? And shout out to @gigglingtigger for giving me an idea about this story. Word Count: Over 1K Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: Smut. Some fluff.

“Oh, darling…” Loki’s voice sang through the hallway. His tone was what worried you the most. Whenever he sang like that, it could go one of two ways.

One, he found something that you had done that was so egregious, so criminal, that he would have to act and punish you. That thought alone sent a heated flow of arousal down the length of your spine.

Or two, he was up to mischief and wanted you to sanction/be an alibi/or take part in a scheme that would inevitably end with you having done something so egregious and criminal anyway.

“I have a surprise for you, sweet girl,” he said when he found you in the bedroom. Option number two, it is then.

You were laying on your stomach, propped up on your elbows. Your feet dangled in the air cross-legged as your hands splayed over a book, keeping it open. You had only your black cotton panties and a t-shirt on as you decided earlier that it was going to be a lazy kind of Sunday.

Loki took a moment to appreciate the view in front of him as he leaned on the doorframe. “Oh, if only I didn’t have something so delightful to show you, I’d like nothing more than to join you in your leisure.” He paused for only a moment, biting his lip, before he gave in to your temptation, “Oh, what the hell.”

You giggled, scooting over to make room for him in bed. He laid on his back staring up at you, as you gazed down at him. “What is it? What’s the surprise?” you asked eagerly.

Loki held both his fists up in front of you, “Choose,” he commanded softly.

You kissed the hand that was closest to you and looked back at him. “How fitting,” he said as he opened his hand to reveal a small Hershey’s kiss.

Your eyes went wide. Such a small, simple gesture. But one that had you enthralled, nonetheless. You giggled as he opened the wrapper. “Open,” he directed again, and you could do nothing but obey as you parted your lips and held your tongue out slightly.

The rich chocolate melted on your tongue as you savored the sweet treat. Loki sat up and leaned on his arm as he kissed your lips, invading your mouth with his tongue, tasting the smooth chocolate for himself.

“Mhmm. My sweet girl. Choose again.” He broke the kiss and held his fists out in front of you a second time. A small smile playing on his beautiful face. You took your calculated time, making a show of thinking hard about this decision. Loki only chuckled, as he patiently looked upon your face.

“This one!” You kissed his other hand this time and he unfurled his fingers, letting drop a dainty gold chain with a diamond pendant on it. Your eyes grew even wider. “Loki! It’s beautiful!”

“Turn around, darling.”

“I couldn’t possibly accept...”

“You can. And you will. Now don’t make me repeat myself,” he decreed. You bit down on your lip, trying to stop your smile from expressing just how turned on you were right now. You faced away from him as he brought the chain over and down your head, securing the back and letting it hang on your neck.

The chain felt cool, and the pendant felt heavy. He kissed the fastening against your skin and continued to trail his lips to the side of your neck. His hands roamed around your sides and across your stomach. He pulled you closer to him as he settled you in between his spread knees. You could feel him, straining against his pants and you couldn’t help but brush against him, wanting to close that space in between your bodies.

“Before I give you your final choice, I want you to wear nothing but this necklace. Is that understood?”

You nodded quickly. His hands gripping and tugging at your shirt making you pant with desire. His fingers slid under the band of your black panties and slid them down your thighs.

As soon as you were bare, save the gilded trinket he just gave you, Loki pushed you down against the bed. He towered over you and took in your wanton figure. His eyes lingered with desire at every curve, every line, every dimple. As if he were taking notes of where he wanted to leave his mark on you.

He used his seidr to divest himself of his clothes as his hands traced your thighs, separating them for him to kneel in between you. The warmth of his skin heated yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist. Your hips sitting on top of his spread thighs. His smile broadened as he held his fists out to you again. “Choose,” he growled.

You were so intrigued and so lightheaded from this game Loki is putting on. He had nothing in his hands a second ago. What could he have conjured in such a short amount of time?

You held your hand up, pointing to his left fist. A sinful smile appeared on his face as he opened his hand, revealing a set of leather cuffs- seemingly falling from thin air.

He grabbed your hands and the cuffs slid from his grasp onto your wrists. He positioned your hands above your head as a small whimper made its way out of your lips.

“You’ve been such a good girl for me,” he feigned. “Are you going to stop?” he asked. His breath fanned your face, and you can smell the lingering scent of chocolate. You shook your head. “That’s my girl,” he praised as his nose nuzzled against you.

He left your hands tied to the headboard as his own traced a heated path down your arms and onto your sides. “So beautiful. So enchanting,” he murmured.

His fingers brushed the swell of your breasts, across your hardened nipple, making you ache with need. He clasped the diamond and gently placed it on top of your chest. “That would look so lovely glinting off your skin as I take you repeatedly.” The pendant felt heavy on your chest, like a weight was sitting on you.

“Loki…” you begged. His growing erection already rubbing against your sensitive bud.

“Ah, ah, ah. Patience, my sweet girl,” he cooed. “I want to take my time with you. I want to savor every moan. Every stroke,” he panted as he slid the very tip of his hard cock inside you. You moaned loudly feeling him stretch you.

“God, Loki, you’re so…” at that moment he thrusted his whole length inside of you causing you to cry out in the most exquisite pain you’ve ever felt. The weight of the chain keeping you grounded.

“Th-that’s my girl,” he huffed as he slowly pulled himself out, only to crash back into you, the base of his lewd erection ramming into your walls. “Now let’s see this pendant bounce, shall we?” he grinned wickedly.

@emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @gigglingtigger @holdmytesseract @immersed-in-mischief @loopsisloops @muddyorbsblr @luvlady-writes @kellatron55 @huntress-artemiss @crimson25 @purplegrrl27 @sarahscribbles @ladyofthestayingpower @ozymdias @lokixryss @athalialaufeyson @thedistractedagglomeration @theotherspiderlady @cheekyscamp @gigglingtigger

[lady-rose-moon]

What happened after the game || Tom Hiddleston x Reader || 18+ ||

a/n: well hello my lovelies! I was inspired by Hiddleston playing on Sunday and wrote this as quickly as I could! By now, I'm sure we've all watched it or at least seen photos of our man this weekend so I am here to gift you this before someone else does!

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 ↬ 1.5k

My Main Masterlist

a/n: duly noted, sir

Getting back from the football match, you sighed in relief as you slid down the door to your hotel room. Tom was just ahead of you, still slightly breathless from his time on the pitch. You smiled as you watched your husband swipe away some sweat beading on his brow before he met your eyes and released a soft chuckle.

“What a match,” he spoke softly, standing straight and striding over to you, picking you up and laughing when you whined and pouted. “Come on, my darling,” he spoke jovially with a grin, “we celebrate tonight.”

“But England lost?” you replied with a tilt of your head, goading Tom into an even brighter smile. You knew he loved to talk about his charity efforts and this would send him into another one of his monologues.

The actor sighed dramatically and shook his head. “Oh, my darling!” he began with a smile, shaking your conjoined hands as he gazed down at you with adoring eyes, “it wasn’t all about the endgame result! It was the money that we earned from doing the match that truly matters! Yes, I would have liked England to have won but we raised so much! Just while I spoke, people donated thousands! I love doing things like these, my dear, it helps me feel like I’m making such a difference.”

“You’ll always make a difference, Tom,” you replied with a smile, stepping closer to him and pressing a kiss to his cheek, watching as his eyes softened and his attention was all yours, “you made a difference to my life the moment we met on the High Rise set.”

Tom chuckled and wound his arms around your waist, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he enjoyed your comfort. “That is true,” he whispered to you, his hands moving down to grab your thighs, “how could I possibly forget? Oh, that’s correct - I never will forget!”

You shrieked as Tom lifted you off the ground as he held the back of your thighs and you melted into laughter and you felt him walking closer to the bed, ending up on the covers moments later with another shriek erupting from your lips. Tom stared down at you with hungry eyes before he crawled onto the bed and towered over you, one of his legs spreading your own legs apart to press his thigh against your core.

The adrenaline seemed to still be running through his veins, that energy that he needed on the pitch not yet dissipated which was a very beneficial thing for you. 

“I love you,” Tom whispered with a husky voice, his eyes undressing you hungrily as you wriggled beneath him. The actor leaned down and pressed a deep kiss to your lips, startling you slightly before you wound your arms around his neck and eagerly pressed yourself against him as his hips stuttered.

The two of you pulled away for breath and that is when you sat up with him and began to undress him, watching as his skin was slowly revealed to you. Tom watched you hungrily as you reached out and pressed your palm against his chest, feeling the chest hair beneath your palm and the beads of sweat that still lingered on his body even after drying off. It had been a really hot day in England and you appreciated his dedication to the cause to be able to play in such conditions.

“Darling,” Tom whispered, his hand reading up and lifting your chin with his thumb and index finger until you met his eye before he sealed your lips with another kiss, breaking any thoughts that might have crossed your mind. 

It only took a few moments before you were undressed too, your hair pulled up into a bun to get away from the sweat that you knew was going to be produced through the next activity and the rest of you bare for your husband. Your husband eyed you hungrily before he descended and encircled your nipple gently, beginning to lovingly caress it with his tongue as his hand snaked down your body to gently circle your clit.

The stimulation shocked you but you melted into the feeling, relaxing your hips to allow Tom to do whatever he wanted and the man chuckled as he pulled away from your nipple in order to seal your lips in another searing kiss. Tom’s fingers began to speed up the deeper your kiss became, thrilling your body as you fell deeper and deeper into pleasure. 

Slowly, you felt Tom sliding his fingers away from your clit and you whined into the kiss before Tom pushed closer to you and pressed his fingers inside you, startling you into releasing a dirty moan into his mouth. His two fingers searched your dripping cunt eagerly, prodding in places that he had learned throughout the years that were your favourite spots and caused you to see stars. 

Spurred on by your moans, Tom pulled away and watched as you writhed beneath him, your eyes pulled closed in pleasure as you rode his fingers along with his movements and the actor groaned as he imagined the moment he would be able to sink into you and show you how much he loved you.

“T-Tom,” you moaned blissfully, your eyes pushing open to centre on your husband as he smirked and pushed your legs apart while keeping his hungry eyes on your own, “Please.”

Smirking, the actor took this as confirmation, positioning himself at your entrance before slowly beginning to sink into your dripping pussy. You moaned loud at the mix of pleasure and pain that the action brought and you found that the moment you shared a glance at your husband, all of that pain away and he was bringing you so much pleasure. 

After a few moments, Tom began to move and that was when the true pleasure began. He began to get faster, his cock pounding into your pussy with determination to make the both of you feel good. You wound your arms around his neck again, pulling him close to you and allowing him to rest his head in the crook of your neck as he pistoned his cock inside you. 

You had done this kind of celebration a great deal with Tom. From movie premieres to visits to UNICEF partnerships to BAFTAs, it had all ended in these… celebrations. Tom found every way to ravish you and show that all of his efforts were for you and the family he wanted with you. 

With your mind hazed, you were blinded by the pleasure and undying need to give this man a child, seeing his eyes light up at the idea of pregnancy again, giving little Haven a baby brother or sister. Perhaps it was time for something like that. 

You threw your head back and moaned loudly at the idea but did not voice the idea to your husband. Haven was two years old but he had asked that you wait for a little while longer, wanting you to be at your very best for when you have another baby. 

Tom saw that you were starting to get hazy so he gently stroked his hand up your chest and gently grabbed one of your breasts, teasing your nipple gently as he eyed you and saw you come back to yourself moment to moment until you were moaning and mewling constantly beneath him. Spurred on by this, he began to move faster, shifting so that he was on his knees and angled his hips in such a way that he knew would make you melt.

Meanwhile, your mind was riddled with pleasure, every morsel of your being spent time loving the man you’d married and moaning his name, your brain focusing on nothing else but his face and your upcoming orgasm.

The tightening of your core signalled to the actor that you were close and he grinned as his hand left your nipple and slid down your body until two fingers settled on your clit and began moving in a circular motion, gradually building up to his pace, guiding you into a blissful orgasm.

When that cord snapped inside you - and boy did it snap - you threw your head back and moaned for the gods to hear as you shuddered through your orgasm, feeling more than hearing Tom reach his orgasm above you.

The moments that followed were full of reassuring kisses and Tom cleaning himself and you up with a damp cloth and another gentle kiss to your forehead. 

“Are you okay?” your husband asked when he saw that you were becoming more lucid, “does it hurt anywhere?”

You checked yourself momentarily before shaking your head and smiling at him. “I’m okay,” you whispered, taking his arm and cuddling into him as you yawned.

The actor watched you and chuckled before getting comfy around you, watching you fall asleep slowly before he allowed himself to sleep.

England may have lost but he definitely won that night!

~~

@lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @evelyn-kingsley @slpnbty2001 @jennyggggrrr @hahaha12123445 @ozymdias @holdmytesseract @itsybitchylittlewitchy @lovingchoices14 @xorpsbane @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbs @nerdy-fangirl-65 @lonadane @silverfire475 @chantsdemarins @iamsherlocked1479 @kittiowolf210 @just-someone11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @loki-laufeyson-1054 @fictive-sl0th @coldnique @anukulee @eleniblue

[kirain]

What would your ideal live action cast be for Corpse Bride?

I've think said this before, but I absolutely hate live action remakes. I feel like they're lazy, soulless cash grabs and almost never good. Ideally, I'd like them to leave Corpse Bride alone ... but if they have to remake it, I think this would be an acceptable cast:

Emmy Rossum as Emily

Tom Hiddleston as Victor

Anya Taylor-Joy as Victoria

Terence Stamp as Galswells

Jack Davenport as Barkis

The rest of the characters don't really matter because they would likely be rendered in CGI, in which case they could conceivably have the cast from the stop motion film reprise their roles. They could even have Johnny Depp, Helena Bonham Carter, Emily Watson, and Richard E. Grant voice a few additional lines to pay homage to the original, or they could make live cameos.

Also, if anyone's interested, the story of The Corpse Bride is actually based on a Jewish folklore horror tale called "The Finger". It's not a long read and, if you can believe it, it's even more depressing than the movie, at least from the bride's perspective. I'm not Jewish so I can't be sure if my interpretation is correct, but I came away with the sense that the story is a lesson in ethics, meant to teach children to be careful with their words and not say things they don't mean, as there might be horrible consequences and they could unintentionally hurt someone. I would highly recommend anyone who has an appreciation for the film to check it out!

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Hi

Can u pls write a tom hiddleston fic where he and his wife are happily married with many children and his wife plays jemma in agents of shield and every cast member talks about theie relationship and the fans stan them too.

I hav had this idea for a long time now

Hav a great week

Living the good life

PAIRING | Husband!Tom Hiddleston x Wife!Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.2K

SUMMARY | Life with your husband Tom is pretty freaking perfect, and he wants to show you every single day how much he cares about you and your three angels. The rest of the world agrees with him, and you two are absolute couple goals to all of your fans.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Mentions of breastfeeding a baby,

A/N | Thank you for this super sweet request Nonnie, I hope you enjoyed what I did with this one! 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner made by yours truly

It's been a long day on the set of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. You're looking forward to going home, where you will see your husband, Tom, your twin girls, Lily and Aster, and your youngest son, Sage.

What you didn't know, however, is that Tom is planning to surprise you on set after this day, and he's taking your three angels with him.

You just finished one of your last scenes for the day, and you're walking off the set when you suddenly hear a familiar voice on stage. You turn around to see Aster running your way, closely followed by Lily.

''Mommy, mommy!'' Aster shrieks as she runs your way, and you crouch with a big smile, your arms open wide to catch your girls in your arms as they get to you.

''Hi, troublemakers!'' you say as they fall into your arms and hug you close, but some of your co-stars also walk your way, ready to greet the girls. Everyone loves them, as well as Sage because they are all so kind and loving to everyone.

''Did you happen to bring your Dad as well, or did the two of you get over here all by yourselves?'' you ask, but they both shake their heads.

''He's over there, Mommy!'' Lily says, pointing to Tom, holding Sage on his hip, who looks adorable together.

You get up and walk over to Tom, your girls being taken care of by some of your other co-stars so you can greet the two of them.

''Hi, Love,'' you say as you walk over to Tom, and he plants a soft, sweet kiss on your lips, making your heart flutter.

''Hi, Beautiful,'' Tom says as you pull apart, a smile dancing around his lips as he gets a good look at you, but Sage starts to get a little impatient when you give all your attention to his Dad.

''Somebody can't wait to cuddle his Mommy, huh?'' you coo at the little guy, and he bounces happily in your arms after you've taken him from Tom's arms.

''Thank you so much for dropping by with them; I believe I only have a few scenes left before I can finally go home,'' you tell Tom, and he can see the exhaustion settling on your face.

''It's okay. All you have to do is get through these last few scenes, and then I'll take you home for a relaxing bath. Maybe I'll even join you,'' he says with a wink, the thought already exciting you.

You give a few more kisses and blow a few raspberries on Sage's cheeks, and he giggles excitedly while kicking his feet in happiness, and it's honestly the cutest thing in the world.

One of your co-stars, Clark Gregg, walks over to you to notify you they're getting ready to film the last scene, a one-on-one between your two characters, but before he gets the chance, he's completely infatuated with your son, just like everyone else who sees him.

''Hi, Sage! How are you getting so big already?! And where are your sisters?'' he says after tickling his tummy, making him giggle again.

''Here we are, Uncle Clark!'' Aster says as the two girls run over to him, but Tom stops them before they bump into him.

''Easy, girls!'' he says with a massive smile on his face, and Clark crouches down to hug both girls and tell them that they, too, have grown a lot since he last saw them.

''Unfortunately, I have to borrow your Mom for one more scene today, but after that, she's all yours to take deal?'' he asks, and the girls agree.

''Bye, Mommy!'' they say as they wave at you after you've given Sage back to Tom after a few more kisses, and after one more peck on Tom's lips, you walk with Clark to film the scene.

Suddenly, the entire day is more than worth it, and the last scene is done perfectly in one take.

You're finally done with filming for a few months and planning to soak up every last second of it. Starting with a nice vacation to the U.K. with all five of you, you can all visit Tom's family for a few weeks.

After sleeping for most of the first few days - because jetlag is a real son-of-a-bitch - you're finally used to the time difference, and you can't help but want to stay in bed just a little longer this morning.

''Mornin' Beautiful,'' Tom says, his head perched on his hand as he leans his elbow on his pillow to get a good look at you. ''How did you sleep?''

''Like a log, honestly. But I'm feeling better now; I'm finally getting used to the time difference,'' you say with a small yawn, and just when you're about to pull Tom in for a few more cuddles, you hear Sage over the baby monitor.

''I'll get him; you can just stay here and get ready to feed him his breakfast,'' Tom says before leaving with a soft kiss on your lips, followed by a big smile. You place yourself against the headboard and remove your shirt so you can breastfeed a little easier.

After rearranging some pillows, you're finally comfortable, and that's when Tom walks in with Sage, who's still a little sleepy but also very hungry for breakfast.

At this point, you only breastfeed him in the mornings to give yourself a little relief, and it's also a good way of bonding with him while Tom gets the twins ready for breakfast and the rest of the day.

''Here you go, Beautiful. I'll see you when he's done,'' he says before handing little Sage to you and placing a few soft kisses on your head.

''I love you,'' you say, and he says it back before walking out the door and closing it behind him to give you two the privacy you need. When Sage is latched on and happily suckling away, you grab your phone to scroll through social media platforms, starting with Instagram.

Yesterday, you posted a photo of all five of you during the sunset at Tom's parent's house, and your Instagram has blown up over it, so you decided to look at the comments and maybe reply to some of them as well.

After reading and replying to many comments about how cute you all are, that you are couple goals, etc., you can tell Sage is done, and you're also feeling a lot better, so it's time to burp him and get both of you dressed and ready for the day.

After giving him a clean diaper, you dress him in grey coveralls and a beige shirt, and you get dressed in a grey lounge outfit before joining the rest for breakfast, which Tom has lovingly prepared for everyone.

''Good morning, everyone!'' you say with a slight yawn as you walk into the living room where everyone is still seated, and within no time, Sage is plucked from your arm and taken care of so you can cuddle with your little girls for a while.

''How did the two of you sleep?'' you ask Lily and Aster when they are sitting on either side of you, and they tell you all sorts of stories, from the joke Tom told them this morning as a part of their morning routine, to the way they helped him make breakfast and lots of other stories that come to their minds.

After that, it is time for breakfast, and you happily situate yourself on Tom's lap, his arm wrapped around your waist as he feeds you your breakfast, not caring about what anyone thinks. Right now is your Tom-time, and you plan on taking in every last second of it.

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower, Book 1, Chapter 31

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: I spilled some angst, sorry.

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

~~~~~<3

Tom’s phone rang in his pocket, but he had no choice but to ignore it. He sat with the radio microphone in front of his face as the man sitting across from him in the studio teased him about his voice and the impact it had on women. It was a joke he had heard before, would hear again and while he appreciated it, it was getting rather tired in a professional setting. 

Again, his phone vibrated. Carefully, he worked it out of his pocket as they went to a commercial break. Mia had called him twice. 

The commercial break wasn’t long, just a quick sponsored ad. 

“Everything alright?” his host asked. 

“Yeah, I just need to send a quick message. Sorry.” 

Tom opened the text message window and quickly typed out, “Sorry Darling, doing a radio show. Can’t answer at the moment. Everything okay?” Quickly he sent another as the host welcomed their listeners back. “I’ll call as soon as I’m out.”

The phone vibrated to life as he was typing and he dismissed the call so he could type the message a little faster.

“So, Tom,” the radio host said as Tom hit send on the message. At the same moment, the voicemail received showed up on his screen. Tom had no choice but to lock his phone and slip it back in his pocket instead of listening to it. A ball of lead formed in the pit of his stomach as he willed himself to believe everything was alright with Mia and Sally. “You’ve been making quite the stir in the tabloids lately.” 

Tom chuckled, “So I’ve been told.”

“Have you seen them?” The host asked. 

“No, no- I don’t make a habit. Nothing good comes from reading your name in the tabloids. Just as bad as looking yourself up on social media.”

“First, there’s the Las Vegas pictures- you and your lovely bride. And she is lovely- Look at the smiles on your faces!” Tom leaned forward as the host showed him a few pictures of events he had nearly no memory of. He and Mia both had wide smiles plastered on their faces, joy so strong that it seemed to pour from the image. Tom would have to ask someone to gather the images for him, at least the flattering ones. He had some, just the ones Luke had sent him. 

“We had a lovely time. It was a blast, truly.” 

“But now, now there are new pictures of you causing a stir.” 

“Oh?” Tom answered carefully. 

“Oh, yes.” The radio host answered quickly. “I know you don’t really like to talk about your family,”

“Yes, my private life is mine alone.” The radio host continued to talk over him. 

“But while you were out and about since you’ve been home, you’ve been pictured a few times. First there was you with actress Kate Weathers-” 

Tom chuckled, “She’s been a long-time friend.” 

“And you’ve been photographed a few times without your wedding ring. There’s a lot of speculation about what that means-”

“It means I forgot to put it on after doing some washing up.” Tom didn’t like this line of questioning, fingers tapping against his knee as he tried to keep his tone under control. “Nothing more.”

“No trouble in paradise?” 

“There is no trouble. We’re perfectly fine.”

“That’s good to hear!” The host laughed, and Tom tried to remind himself that it wouldn’t do his career any favors to end the interview in a huff. “It’ll break some of our listener’s hearts though!” 

“I would hope my fans would be happy for me.” Tom challenged, bristling at the topic.

“There’s speculation that the marriage is just for PR, to make you look like a good family man. What are your thoughts?”

“With all due respect,” Tom tried to mind his tone. “I want to make something very clear. Getting married now isn’t helpful to my career. It ties me down. It gives me responsibilities outside of my career. It is a distraction. I would never lie to my fans and pretend to be in a relationship for social or professional gain even if I was in a place where doing so would logically make sense but right now, it doesn’t.”

“It seems I struck a nerve.”

“I am married. I got married to a wonderful woman in America. I love Mia. I will continue to love Mia. I am in love. Forgetting to put on a ring, having coffee with a friend or playing a love interest in a project will all do nothing to change that. I am in love with Mia.”

~~~~~<3

Luke wasn’t exactly happy with Tom as he stepped out of the recording room. For his part, Tom did a pretty good job of smoothing over the ruffled feathers he made in the interview and they left on good terms, at least in Tom’s opinion. 

“You’re supposed to stay cool, calm and collected.” Luke lectured. 

“I was.” Tom tried not to look at his long-time friend as they walked down the hall. “I just was also a tad bit firm.”

“A tad bit?” 

“I wanted to put the speculation to bed.” 

~~~~~<3

Tom had wanted to check the voicemail sooner, but it felt like everything and everyone else had demanded his attention the second he had walked out of that recording room. Mia hadn’t responded to his text, so he had assumed everything was fine. He had waited until Luke was on his way out to pull his phone out and dial his voicemail. 

There wasn’t a logical reason for it, but there was a stone weighing heavy in his stomach as he keyed in his passcode and hit play. 

Shaking wet breaths and sniffles filled his ear. The world faded away and Tom didn’t acknowledge the person he nearly bumped into as he walked outside the building.

 “Tom,” There was a pause. It felt like time stretched on forever in that pause while his heart beat loudly in his ears. 

“Could I get an autograph?” Tom hardly noticed the fan, raising his hand in a silent request to be left alone. “I’m sorry, I- never mind. I’m sorry.”

“Not now, thank you,” Tom said to the man, his lips numb as dread flooded him while he disconnected the call.

“Is everything alright?” The fan asked, but Tom didn’t answer. 

Long legs carried him forward. He wasn’t sure where, but he felt the need to run. Running wouldn’d do right now though. Walking, leaving the fan to make whatever assumptions they did from the interaction, Tom selected Mia’s contact information and hit call.

The call went straight to voicemail. He tried to tell himself she was probably working. There was a logical, normal, sane reason she had her phone turned off. It was fine. Everything was fine. He needed everything to be fine. 

Except she had been crying, and that wasn’t fine. She needed him and he was an ocean away. Had another man touched her again? Fuck, was it Sally? Had something happened to Sally?

Tom hadn’t realized when he started running. He needed to get home. He needed to figure out what to do next. Somehow, he needed eyes and ears in Las Vegas until he could get there. 

Ashley. 

Tom called her. The phone rang and rang in his ear before a groggy woman answered, “What do you want?”

“It’s Tom.” He had never actually called his sister-in-law before. They had texted a few times about Sally when Mia was at work, but that was the extent. He had saved her number in his phone for emergencies, a backup point of contact if anything had ever happened to Sally while he was watching her. 

“Is everything good? Dude, it’s- it’s fuck o’clock in the morning. Why are you calling?”

“I’m sorry to wake you. That was what I was calling to ask, however. Is everything alright with Mia?”

“What are you talking about?” Her voice was clearer as she pushed sleep away, sitting up in her bed an ocean away.

“Mia called a few times. I was working and couldn’t answer.” His words were coming fast, huffing breaths breaking them up as his long legs navigated through the trip home. “She left a voicemail, crying, but didn’t say what was wrong. Calls are going right to voicemail now.”

“She was fine last I talked to her but I’ll call.”

“Let me know or have her call me?” 

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Ashley was sour with her ruined sleep, but above all, she was trying to relax Tom with her relaxed attitude. There was nothing worrying Tom would accomplish when the man already sounded like he was a caged animal.

Mia never let her phone die. She never didn’t answer. It wasn’t like her to leave crying voicemails. None of this was like her. 

Something was wrong. 

~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller, @alexakeyloveloki, @jennyggggrrr, @dangertoozmanykids101, @tilltheendwilliwrite, @tinchentitri, @wizardcherryblossom, @buttercupcookies-blog, @violethaze, @kats72, @soulpiercing, @evedia, @princess-ofthe-pages, @tom-hlover

[tgarrett26]

I would like to request about marvel cast x singer ari! Reader headcanon, please

Marvel cast x singer like Ariana Grande headcannons:

•Mackie would challenge sing-offs

•Sebastian would have a new karaoke buddy, it wouldn’t be every time in consideration of his confidence, but I’m sure you would help boost it.

•Evans would love a new car karaoke buddy, and you would definitely be it.

-He’d hype you up on high notes and try to mimic it once you leave the vehicle.

•Scarlett would love to have you join in on a live stream where she occasionally sings some of her old songs.

-She even sneaks a peek at you singing one of her newer ones when in the wardrobe trailer (who knows?)

•Ruffalo would be astounded, the kind and warm soul he is.

•Renner could never be jealous of your talents, but he understands his daughter’s appreciation for them and he wonders how you’d sing with his lyrics.

•Hemworth is not one to carry a tune, but you make him wish he could.

•Downey’s easy at boosting ego, but he’s kind with his compliments as ‘my daughter wishes you’d sing her to sleep too often for my heart, I don’t blame her though’ when you were too nervous to sing on camera per directors request for a scene.

•The Benedicts love dancing to your voice, they enjoy using your hums to get into character when the wifi is iffy or their music just gets repetitive for them.

•Paul Rudd is probably your biggest fan of all the cast members, but who can blame him when you have a vocal range as vast as the streaming options for film requests in the screening room?

•Brie Larson is one h*ll of a singer herself, but she appreciates your join-in when you’re over at hers for a house day or getting ready in the makeup trailer.

•Colbie Smulders? She’s a lover when it comes to your music, I’ve never heard so many pop songs come from her car (even before you joined the cast).

•The Toms? Their music taste is one of the most intriguing parts about them, but Holland can’t help himself with your classics and Hiddleston squeals when he hears your voice-whether it’s from a recording or live.

•Lizzie Olsen is not one to back away from some things and your joyous vocals are one of them, she can’t help herself when the light and airy tone of yours wafts in her surroundings.

•The directors easily get irritated by the interruptions on set by you breaking into song when something goes wrong, but why not break out or character completely when something goes awry?

•The crew is grateful they can hear you sing w/o having to buy tickets though they wonder if Corden will ever be able to get you on Carpool Karaoke if he can.

Honorable Mentions:

•Daniel Brühl is one heck of an Ari fan if I’ve ever heard one, but he beams when he thinks if you’re about to sing.

•Florence Pugh is always ready to listen to your music, but her expectations are always lifted when your voice starts.

•Emily Vancamp has broken character too many times if she hears you from afar, but it just makes her smile and she can’t help it.

•Hayley Atwell is not one to sing often, but her light voice carries and for it to mix with yours just makes her beam and get into it farther.

•Chadwick was only in a movie or so with you, but he was no stranger to your vocals even before he met you.

-He and Letitia had their fair-share of lip-synch battles to your songs, but neither of them have ever been willing to admit it.

•Xochitl has filmed one too many videos of her dancing to your music, but her moves and your lyrics are a Marvel-made match that won’t be beat (even by Florence and Toby sometimes, sorry Florrie).

•Hailee Steinfeld is just waiting for the day she can meet you on set and ask for a collab because your voices together won’t be beat (I see you collab of Stitches from years ago).

[lokisgoodgirl]

Sexual Apocalypse Society (SAS) FAQ

Thanks to @lovelysizzlingbluebird for jokingly suggesting an FAQ. However hopefully it will be useful in future 😁 #SAS Supremacy

What is the SAS?

The SAS stands for Sexual Apocalypse Society. What started as whispers of a mysterious cult became an unofficial band of thirsty Loki posters who just tagged each other in things that make your brain seize up for a second in pure desire and then explode all over the keyboard.

But really, what is it?

That's literally it. It’s a bunch of Loki writers/ readers/fans who enjoy thirsting at length about hot AF Loki Laufeyson and his mortal counterpart, Tom Hiddleston.

This can be in the form of Asks sent to ‘members’ with gifs/headcanons, reblog thirst trains, fic reblogs, old reblogs or pretty much anything. Nothing is safe.

There is an undercurrent of world domination in Loki's name prior to his return to the realm.

How do I join the SAS?

If you want in, you're in.

There is no tag-list. There is no exclusivity. The SAS is free for anyone to join in and voice your mighty appreciation for the god of sex mischief so don't be shy. Everyone's real nice.

As there are so many regulars, sometimes it’s hard to keep track especially when it’s a quickly put out post, so please don’t be offended if you’re not tagged by someone and you think you should be.

It’s all a bit of fun. Just join in If you want to.

What’s all the stuff about the Mangos?

Eons ago, @thedistractedagglomeration brought to our attention the phrase ‘Pantsmango’ to describe TH/Loki’s crotch. This has snowballed somewhat into a full on feral worship of the Mango, both in crotch and actual Mango form as a symbol of devotion to our cause.

Are there rules?

Sure.

Be nice to everyone and be respectful of each other. If someone’s ideas within a thread inspire you to write something specific, check they’re happy for you to do so.

Accept the SAS headcanon that upon his arrival to Midgard, there will immediately be enough Loki copies for all of us. It is known.

Let me know if anyone has any very important additions/addendums to this lil FAQ 😁🍆

Lots of ❤️

LGG x Previous Meeting Minutes: (AKA notable thirst trains/hysteria for posterity) LCM & LGG do Soccer Aid (Live reblog chaos) Loki’s pubic hair (magical merkin) Unhinged at Loki being Loki - SAVE YOURSELVES The Re-enforced Gusset Legend of the Sentient Pants The SAS Badge (and motto) Tom's Innocent Picture and the Disappearing Panties Messing up a sexy Prince The erotic devastation of the jawline Fingers like Barbie Legs (Hand Appreciation) Tom Hiddleston’s Snakehips (Dancing) Sentient Leather Pants The Sluttiest Figurine Loki’s detachable phallus Counting Moles Banoir (The Brown Towel)

[abbatoirablaze]

Behind The Scenes, Tom Hiddleston

Word Count: 1.1k

“(Y/N)” the paparazzi called hoping that you would look at them.  You faked a smile as you walked the red carpet with your partner, “(Y/N)!  TOM!”

“Wait, love,” Tom beckoned, his fingers pulling you back for a moment as you stopped walking.  You gave him a small glance back and it seemed like his world lit up.  Your heart panged in your chest as he swept you back into his arms, his charming smile making you feel all the more guilty, “Just a few pictures?”

“Eleven months minimum,” his manager said firmly, pointing to the contract.  Your brow raised as you went to question it, but he was already shaking his head, “he’s been too close to some stars lately who are on the less-than optimal path when it comes to relationships, and he’s starting to look like a playboy when he isn’t one.  Ond we want to straighten that out before it goes too deep.  A long term, committed relationship where Tom seems utterly and hopelessly in love with you will do that.  You two will be the power couple.  The star-studded leading man, and his down-to-earth girlfriend that keeps him grounded in reality.  It’s perfect.”

You glanced over at the bored looking actor. 

It was obvious that he didn’t want to be there.

But he’d just gone through a very public divorce.  And a custody battle that made Brad and Angelina’s breakup seem tame. 

You felt bad for him, you did.

“Mr. Hiddleston?”

Tom looked up from his phone, finally showing some sense of acknowledgement.  You noticed a photo of his toddler son sitting in his lap while he read to him on the screen.

A gentle pang in your heart.

He was a good guy.

But the people he’d hung around with in the wake of his divorce…weren’t. 

“Terribly sorry,” he apologized with a sad look, “I-I’m sorry.  Did I miss part of the conversation?”

“Just negotiating terms,” you smiled politely, “what all are you looking for out of this?”

“I don’t care,” he admitted with a shrug, “the world sees me as this awful human ever since the divorce…I just-I want people to see the real me…not the one that I was said to be.”

“I think we can do that, Mr. Hiddleston.”

“I haven’t gotten the proper time to thank you for everything as of late…” Tom sighed from his spot at the podium.  You caught as a camera panned to you, and you kept your focus on the man of the hour, trying to play it right.  You felt the cameraman moving out of your peripheral and you noticed Tom tearing up, “you and I met at a pivotal point in my life.  A low point…and you did something no one else could do.  You built me back up to the man that I was before.  I want to thank you for the love and support you’ve shown me these past twelve months.  Without you-I-…”

He halted his speech, his voice cracking at the end.  You stood up and began clapping for him, and a second later, the rest of the crowd was on their feet, cheering on Tom as well.  Even the presenter came back to the podium and clapped Tom on the shoulder, assuring him that it was fine he didn’t finish his speech. 

“I LOVE YOU!” you called out, not lying about your feelings.  Tom gave you a sweet smile as he picked up his award and swiped away the tears.  You smiled, knowing how it would look all played out. 

The sweet, kind man that you’d gotten to know over the past year had been redeemed in the eyes of the general public and those in Hollywood’s circles. 

“W-we don’t have to do this…if you don’t want to…”

You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth, “I want to do this, Tom.  I want to be here for you!”

He sighed, the appreciation visible across his features, “You don’t know how incredibly happy I am that my manager found you…”

“You’re not a bad guy, Tom…” you smiled gently, “you’re sweet…and funny…and kind…and compassionate beyond all belief.  The rest of the world saw it once.  I’m just helping them see it again.”

“You’re an amazing woman, (Y/N).”

“You’re all over TMZ…(Y/N)…are you there?”

“Funny…I was about to say the same thing about you…”

Tom gave you a sad smile, “they-they shouldn’t be saying that type of thing about you.”

“As far as they know, I cheated on you the night after you won your award,” you replied with a shrug, “that was how it was supposed to play out.  We spent a better part of a month being in public and looking happy.  You were about to propose, thinking you found someone who was so good to you…Tom…this is a win for you.”

“I-I asked my fans to stop calling you those names though…it’s not right.”

“They aren’t supposed to know what I did for you, Tom.  It’s okay.”

He sighed, “it still doesn’t make it right.”

You reached out and took his hands in your own, “hey…cheer up.  If anything, this makes you the Jennifer Anniston in the Jen Anniston/Brad Pitt scandal.  You’re a loveable underdog.  You’ve undergone a divorce and custody battle before finding me, only for me to break your heart as well.  Tom…you have the public in the palm of your hand…”

He frowned before giving you a small, curious look, “Wh-what if I don’t want that anymore?  What if I don’t care about the public eating out of the palm of my hand?”

Your brow furrowed, “What are you talking about?”

“I-I know you’re not really seeing anyone…” he said after a moment’s pause, “do  you-is-is that something you normally do?”

“I guess?”

“I-I’ve just been thinking a lot is all…”

“About?”

“You…” he admitted softly, his eyes lighting up when he gave you another soft look, “and us…the past thirteen or so  months.”

“N-none of it was real, Tom…”

“It didn’t feel like it was fake,” he shrugged.  You watched as the A-lister looked at how your hands were still joined together, and he softly started massaging them, “did it-was I ever more than just a job to you, (Y/N)?”

You felt your throat go dry, and suddenly, you didn’t want to meet his eyes.  You didn’t want to lie to him and tell him that it felt more real than you’d wanted.  Didn’t want to admit that over that course of time you really had fallen for him.

“(Y/N)?”

Your eyes met his and you tried to keep a straight face.  But you felt your bottom lip warbling, “I-it worked out for the best…didn’t it?”

“I-I don’t want it to end…” he muttered, sparing you another small look, “i-is that-am I allowed to say that?”

Your gaze broke from him as you looked out to the snow that was lining the English street, “T-Tom…we-we shouldn’t talk about-“

“I miss you…” he said quickly, cutting you off, “I-I don’t want this to end…please, just say that it doesn’t have to end…”

[mysteriouslover1516]

Not Worth the Thought

What happens one night after your boyfriend breaks up with you, and you're caught in a storm with a seemingly random stranger?

The rain pours as you walk down the dark, London streets. You shiver miserably as you pull your trench coat tighter around your frame. It was almost as if the weather was mourning for you as well, crying because your boyfriend had rejected you for someone else. Or perhaps the weather wasn't mourning for you, perhaps it was more of a mocking howl of the wind.

You quickly wipe your eyes and continue to walk, you certainly didn't want to get mugged, but wearing heels while running did not sound like a good idea.

Lightning flashes in the sky and thunder roars, you shiver again as the sky bursts open even more.  You hear footsteps behind you, causing you to quickly whip around. "Don't touch me!" You say in a scared voice.

The figure holds out one of his hands in a peaceful stance, his other hand busy holding an umbrella. "I won't hurt you, darling. I promise." A British voice says softly, "But please, here." He gently thrusts the umbrella towards you. "Take this, you're going to be chilled to the bone if you don't."

You shake your head, "I couldn't do that to you."

The man steps closer, "I insist you at least share with me then, let me walk you home."

"What's your name?" You ask hesitantly, still unsure of this stranger's intent.

The man lets out a breathy chuckle, "Thomas, but I personally prefer just Tom."

Another flash of lightning illuminates the sky, and for a short moment it also lights up the stranger's face.

Your breath catches in your throat, you knew that face. Those beautiful blue eyes gazing into yours and that kind expression were all too familiar to you. "Tom Hiddleston," you gasp out.

The actor chuckles once more, and you finally recognize his signature "Ehehehe."

A loud clap of thunder rings out and you let out a small shriek.

Tom is by your side in seconds, "Shhh. It's just a little thunder, love. Is your place nearby? We have to get you home, I'm afraid you'll have a nasty cold come on as it is." 

"No," you shake your head. "I forgot my phone at my boyfriend's apartment when he broke up with me. I was so devastated that I just left. But to be fair, the storm was barely starting when I did so."

"Then please, come to my flat. I'll call you a cab if you wish when we get there, or you can spend the night if that is fine with you. But please, let me get you out of this rain and place a warm cup of tea inside your hands."

You knew Tom was forever the gentlemen, that he wouldn't hurt you or take advantage of you. You could see the purity of his concern in his pretty blue eyes.

"Please, darling. I won't hurt you." Tom says kindly, secretly afraid that he'd have to leave you on the streets alone and defenseless. Just the thought of leaving you like that made him sick.

You nod, "Thank you. I'd appreciate that."

Tom positions the umbrella so it's mainly covering you, making his brown curls start to dampen.

You knew that if he'd just stand a little bit closer to you, he'd be sheltered from the rain as well. "It's okay, Tom. We can both fit under here."

Tom laughs nervously, "No, no, my dear. I'm quite alright." He leads you along down the street towards his flat. Quickly pulling a key out of his trouser pocket, he opens the door, letting you go in first.

"I'm so sorry to intrude," your face flushes red. "I shouldn't have stormed off like I did when he ended things."

"Oh darling. Don't apologize to me. I am so sorry that your boyfriend did that to you, love. I know I've just met you, but I can't understand how someone would be able to give you up just like that." Tom says, scurrying around and lighting lamps inside his home.

You blush at his words, "He told me he changed, that he didn't feel the same way about me. Said he found someone else who could love him the way he needed."

Tom takes in your glistening eyes and damp hair, his heart melting at your shaking frame. "Here, darling. Let's not talk about him, he doesn't deserve the thought you're giving him."

"Is there a bathroom around here?" You ask shyly, "I'm sure I must look a fright."

"Oh no, you look lovely," Tom assures you quickly, blushing at his own words. "The bathroom is right down the hall though. Please make yourself at home." He furrows his eyebrows, "I'm afraid I have nothing dry to offer you however, unless you are willing-" Tom stops and shakes his head, "no, that is quite absurd of me to suggest that."

You smile at his flustered talking, "Thomas, if you have a hoodie I can borrow, that would be fine. I think my pants will dry off soon enough."

"Yes, of course. How foolish of me." Tom chides himself and walks over to his bedroom. "I'm afraid it'll be a bit big on your small form, my dear."

"No worries," You say with a hint of a smile in your voice.

The actor walks back out of his room with a black hoodie, "It is a bit boring to be honest, but I think it'll do."

"Thank you," you smile, fingertips brushing as you take it from his hands.

"I'll call the taxi services for you," Tom says. "Take your time, love."

You nod courteously and then head off towards the powder room. After changing your shirt and slipping on the hoodie, you gaze at your appearance in the mirror. You run your hands through your tangled hair until you finally give up, all the while listening to Tom's muffled voice as he's on the phone.

You step out of the bathroom and head back down the hallway.

Tom meets you with a small smile. "That was the taxi place, love. I hate to inform you of this, but they are refusing any service at the moment." He quickly notes your embarrassment. "I have a couple of friends who own a car, I can ask them to take you home. Or-"

You ask quietly, "You told me earlier that I could spend the night here. Does that offer still stand?"

"Of course, darling." Tom smiles, obviously pleased with the arrangements. "I put the kettle on for some tea, it should be boiling in a few minutes. I'm going to change and dry off, please make yourself comfortable." He gestures towards the livingroom, then he walks away.

You slowly walk around the room, a smile tugging at your lips as you view his style of decor. Numerous books littered the shelves, a record player was set on display along with several albums leaning against it. Paintings were hung up sporatically on the walls, some featuring nature, others abstract art. But most of all, movie posters set in frames were placed tastefully around the room, showing off the actor's successful career.

You turn as you hear Tom's approaching footsteps, "I see you like Shakespeare?"

"I simply love it," he smiles back.

"It fits you," you compliment. "This whole place suits you well."

"Thank you, darling. I was afraid it wouldn't be as soft or appealing without a feminine touch, but I've managed."

"It's beautiful, Tom." You say as he walks over to his record player.

He fiddles with a vinyl cover and asks, "Would you mind if I put on some music, love?"

You shake your head, "I have a strong connection with music, please go ahead." You watch as he gently places the record and turns the volume up slightly. "Thomas?"

"Yes, darling?" Tom gives you a questioning look.

"Thank you."

Tom's face softens, "No thanks needed, love."

The kettle whistles and distracts the actor, causing him to flurry around the kitchen as he grabs two teacups.

"Are you sure this won't put you in an awkward predicament, me being here?" You ask, hesitantly. "The media might wrongly associate you with me. It might be bad for your fan base and career."

Tom laughs, "Don't worry about it, dearest. The media will think whatever it wants to, but we'll know the truth."

"I just don't want to put you in a bad spotlight," you say quietly.

"If the media did speculate on us being in a relationship," Tom starts, noticing the blush creep into your cheeks. "My fan base would fall in love with you, no doubt about it."

"I'm not a model by any means, or a singer." You watch as Tom's face slightly falls. "I don't believe the rumors out there, concerning you and Taylor Swift, about you dating her for riches. You're a gentleman, you would have never done that."

"Thank you for believing in me like that, darling." Tom says, voice quiet and laced with pain. "She was right though, I should have seen her betrayal coming. But I also do not condone the hate my fans have sent her way. She is a lovely woman, has a beautiful voice, but we weren't meant to be."

"I'm glad you see it that way." You say, kindly. "Come now, Tom. She doesn't deserve the thought you're giving her, it's in the past now."

"You're quite right," Tom sighs. "I'm sorry, I'm being a terrible host. Tea?"

"On the contrary," you laugh. "You're the most wonderful host I've ever had, Tom."

"Oh, darling. That means a lot." Tom smiles at you.

"I guess I should probably tell you now," you smile sheepishly. "I actually don't like tea very much."

Thomas looks startled, then he laughs. "Hot chocolate more preferable to your tastes?"

"Yes, please." You nod your consent.

The rest of the evening is spent on Tom's couch, listening to music, talking about his career and association with other famous actors, sharing interests, ect.

You soon find yourself leaning against Tom's chest, a blanket draped over the both of you.

One of Thomas' arms is outstretched, holding the Shakespeare book he is reading aloud. The other arm unconsciously wrapped around your waist, keeping you against his warm body.

After awhile the actor feels you relax and when he looks down at you minutes later, he can't help but take in your beauty.

Your eyes were closed, your long lashes laying softly. Your cheeks had a pinkish hue to them, your lips soft and beautiful.

Tom gently places the book down on the coffee table, "Oh, darling. What did you do to me? I thought love had gone and passed me up, but you have me thinking differently now." He whispers as he gingerly places a kiss on your head. "Give me a chance, dearest. Let me treat you with the love you deserve."

"I trust you," you whisper, slightly startling him.

His blue eyes gaze into yours, and without warning he gently presses his lips to yours. After he lets go, you both let out a content sigh.

Thomas thoughts wander as he holds you close, you drifting off again soon after. He thought he'd never feel love again, but now he thought otherwise. It wasn't chance that you had met, it was predestined, it was fate.

[lunarnights95]

Okay, we're about to go into a debate that I want everyone's opinions on.

Question for Debate:

Can Loki cook?

Yes? No? Maybe?

I personally can not, as hard as I've tried, decide my opinion on this. I've read fics about Loki preparing a lavish meal with skill and finesse, I've read fics about Loki acting like a hurricane of disaster in the kitchen, and I've read fics where he knows basics but nothing extensive.

I can personally see Loki knowing how to cook but also not knowing how to cook, especially with modern technology. I can imagine him learning to cook as well if it meant surprising you, too.

I would appreciate any opinions to be shared for this topic and the reasoning of WHY you think that.

(I'm tagging writers, readers, anyone I can get that I am following. If you don't wish to be on these lists in the future, let me know)

@anonymousfiction211 @sarahsineire @superficialdomina @fictive-sl0th @gigglingtigger @lindsey-laufeyson @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokiprompts @tom-hiddleston-voice @trickster-maiden @the-lady-amphitrite @muddyorbsblr @maple-seed @michelleleewise @vbecker10 @currish-rosewolfe @cheekyscamp ++++

The list is not limited! Tag more people if you wish!!

#Loki #LokiLaufeyson #LokiOdinson #LokiFic #MCU

[bushs-world]

Ok, so Quantumania done means Loki rewatch time coz blorbo 😍😍😍 but seriously, I really appreciate the way the series broke Loki out of his cool, controlled mask he always wore, particularly all throughout Thor to TDW and gave us a much more relatable and open Loki.

No more grand speeches, no more heavy handed eloquence that felt forced, no more controlled reactions. No, for the first time Loki was truly free from all the expectations, both self imposed and those he carried as a prince and later in trying to show himself as a powerful, formidable villian.

Just an open, vulnerable Loki who acted how he wanted without having to care about how others would perceive him. And that's what I love about the series that it gave us a Loki without any need for validation or any external pressure and showed us just who the guy is behind his projected image that he wore all throughout Thor to TDW.

And thank God, the man behind all that is an innocent trickster and not mr. Brooding guy. Loki had always been a trickster and a prankster be it in myths or comics and while his story had a lot of emotional weight, he was always a silly character. And I love MCU finally let him be silly and a dork.

What I particularly loved is how Loki went from feeling forced, like someone trying really hard to overcompensate (which he was tbh hence his controlled persona) like a cat puffing out it's chest to appear more intimidating to a more natural, real, raw characterisation.

But I think that was always the point. The Loki from Thor to TDW wasn't the real Loki but a controlled persona conjured by him to elicit a certain response from others (coz he was scared of being mocked). And the one we see in Ragnarok and the series is the real Loki, who he truly is when he isn't trying to force others to view him a certain way.

And that reflects beautifully in his speech which went from feeling kind of forced in Thor to TDW to more natural from Ragnarok. Like he's still Loki but now he speaks like how a real person speaks, not someone trying to gain authority.

I think it becomes very clear his so called 'shakespearean' speech is just a intimidation tactic in episode 1 and 2. During the interrogation scene and when he's trying to convince Sylvie to come join him, he speaks in a lower, slower, deeper voice with more advanced English as a way to appear more threatening and powerful. And my best scene is when his mask slips during the interrogation.

He goes from 'there's a fork in every road' to 'i know' in a split second and the sudden change in his demeanor is always hilarious. Tom Hiddleston is awesome. He promised to show us what makes Loki tick and he really laid it out bare for everyone to see.

The entire series, but especially ep 1-3 were like going inside Loki's mind and understanding what makes him tick .

Just chef's kiss 😘. I don't think anyone else could have accomplished what the team of S1 had done

[uncleskyrule]

if you're referring to my tags, yes, there is a different VA for each Link. i'm planning to audition for Vio and Blue, with Vio having a posh English accent to sound 'cultured' and Blue having a general American accent to sound 'tough'. ig when the cast list comes out, we'll see what the casting director thinks

Doesn't matter if you're only a FS fan or LU fan, I want to know! Plz put in the replies/tags/reblogs what accent for which Link :)

[five-miles-over]

Hey Author chan

Happy new year!!!

I love what you did with my request its sooo dfadjfkjskfnjg I love it and I was hoping if you can do a pt.2 to see how reader chan progressed since she took the job as well as if their relationship took off. It would be the best birthdaay gift EVER

Hi there, @omgsuperstarg ! Thank you so much for your patience, I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it. Also, I wish you a belated happy, happy birthday. I'm thinking about turning this into a series called "You're Never Leaving" in which the reader - our journalist - becomes a part of Mr.Hiddleston's dark world and his inner circle. Without any further ado, I hope you like this Part 2.

You're Never Leaving - Chapter 2

Pairing: Jaguar!Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4,273

Read Chapter One here

Summary: A private dinner with the enigmatic and elegant Tom Hiddleston gives you the opportunity to learn more about the CEO of Imperial Pharmaceuticals, both the good and the bad.

Warnings: Brief mentions of murder and drug overdose deaths. Also, a lot of self-indulgent fluff.

"A table for two at Circolo Poplare - apparently it's a fancy Italian restaurant in London - at six o'clock. And a cocktail dress code," you told your supervisor from the magazine you worked for. It was taking every ounce of willpower inside you to maintain a calm tone. Let's just say the past few hours had something of a mental rollercoaster for you. First, you met in person the enigmatic, ruthless business tycoon named Thomas Hiddleston. Then, you nearly lost your job and landed your magazine in a dangerous lawsuit thanks to one move of yours. You would've had everything you needed if you hadn't been caught by the Mr.Hiddleston while rifling through potentially incriminating documents regarding his company. Then, the enigmatic, dark CEO fed you threats of blacklisting you in the world of journalism before surprising you with a job offer.

Yes, a job offer from Mr. Hiddleston. Instead of moving forward with his threats about suing the very magazine that sent you to London or this interview, Mr. Hiddleston offered you a position at Imperial Pharmaceuticals. As a part of his personal PR team, you would be managing his press and speaking on his behalf to journalists. He lured you in with a perfect mixture of fear and temptation, promising you that this position would give you the upper hand against any journalist working for Forbes, the New Yorker, or any other esteemed publication. And he ended your meeting this afternoon with your signature on a one-year contract, a smug smile on his face, and his lips on your cheek. The last part isn't so important…maybe except for the way his lips felt so soft, like two cotton pillows, when they brushed against your cheek. And the scents of vanilla and champagne in his cologne, which you caught a whiff off when he came close to you…And how he momentarily cupped your arm when he boldly kissed you.

"That's more like it, darling."

God dammit, how did his voice get inside your head?! You mentally cursed yourself and loudly sighed, holding the phone close.

"You sure it's not a date?" Your supervisor teased.

"What? No…no, no no…no, no, no, no, no!" You repeated as many times as possible, pinching the bridge of your nose. "God, no. It's strictly professional…he-he just has a busy schedule."

"Cocktail dress code?"

You painfully shrugged. "Every restaurant has standards, especially this one."

"Alright." Wishing you good luck, your supervisor ended the call. Now it was you and your anxiety alone in a hotel room together.

Had this interview gone as seamlessly as you'd hoped, you'd be spending this evening in a pub with a pint of Guinness, celebrating your success at finally exposing the corrupt CEO of Imperial Pharmaceuticals as a murderer and sadist wearing a corporate veneer. You would proudly finish at least two pints, and then head to your beloved keyboard to type the story you were sure would be your big break. The one piece of journalism that would show your supervisor, your readers, your editors, and every other great magazine that you were a writer to be reckoned with, someone who would do whatever it takes to expose the truth.

But instead, at five-thirty, you were frantically fixing your hair while simultaneously using the hotel shower to steam the one nice dress you packed in your suitcase. It was more on the business professional side than cocktail in your opinion, but it would have to do. You took the navy A-line crewneck dress out of the shower and hung it on a rack before taking a shower yourself.

When you returned, wrapped in a towel and surrounded by some more steam, you picked up your mobile phone. Among the News notifications, there was a story about Imperial Pharmaceuticals launching a new line of sleeping pills to fight insomnia. And apparently those pills seemed to have little to no side effects, save for hallucinations and lucid dreaming.

"That can't be true," you muttered to yourself, switching to YouTube so you could play your favorite songs while getting ready. Chances were that you were going to end up writing stories just like the one you'd just seen, or at least providing the information for them. His little mouthpiece, telling the press anything that Mr. Hiddleston wanted them to know.

You sighed again as you rubbed facial moisturizer on your cheeks and forehead. While you put on your makeup, starting with the primer, you mulled over your fate. This wasn't what you got into journalism for…you were hoping to write groundbreaking stories about people, stories that would have some sort of impact, not corporate propaganda. Yes, that's exactly what it was: propaganda. You would be putting out glorified story after story about the progress of Imperial Pharmaceuticals, and making every action of Mr.Hiddleston's look ground-breaking or generous or whatever he wanted to look like. On the bright side, at least the contract was only for a year. After that, you could take a new job that was less profit-oriented and more passion-focused.

Just then, your phone buzzed. A phone number from the United Kingdom?

"Hello?"

The person on the other hand said your name, as if he waned to check his pronunciation.

"I'm calling on behalf of Mr. Hiddleston. He's sent a car to pick you up. Are you at the Carlton 90 hotel right now?"

"Yes…how did you know?" You bit your lip.

"Mr. Hiddleston said he'll meet you at the Circolo Poplare at six. I suggest you come downstairs now; the London traffic shows no signs of slowing down. And Mr. Hiddleston does not take kindly to lateness. "

"Alright, I'll be there…" Furrowing you eyebrows, you finished getting dressed and slipped a dark coat over your dress. Wearing the same shoes you wore for the interview earlier today, you grabbed your phone, notepad, pens, a mini voice recorder, a clutch, and then rushed out of the hotel.

Surely enough, there was a black town car with a driver waiting to take you to Circolo Poplare. Your courteously greeted the driver and entered, remaining vigilant while he drove. Of course he told you that he was sent by Mr. Hiddleston, but you needed to know that he was actually taking you to the restaurant and not anywhere else. 

The car pulled up in front of a brick building, with the bottom floor painted black and decorated with climbing vines. Potted plants with red and orange flowers surrounded the doors and windows, which were bordered with gauzy curtains. There was a line of people slowly forming outside of the restaurant, just in time for dinner, and it you sighed in relief, knowing the driver brought you to the right destination.

"Don't worry about them," the driver took one pitiful look at the line of people. "That's one of the perks about working for Mr.Hiddleston." 

Reluctantly thanking the driver, you climbed out of the car and smoothened your dress. He escorted you to the doorway, showing the restaurant host a small placard. Seeing it, the host straightened himself. "Right this way, miss."

You followed the host through the restaurant, passing by various tables filled with people dressed in elegant clothing, drinking wine and chattering. One of the tables had a circle of tuxedo-clad men with white hair, raising their Negronis in a jovial toast to 'wives and sweethearts'. Perhaps they were college friends, reuniting after decades apart. At a table to your left, a girl - probably no more than nineteen - twirled at a plate of spaghetti while wearing a strapless magenta dress, crossing one leg over the other. Across from her, a middle-aged man - perhaps her father sat across from her, digging into his marinara sauce-covered entree. The man's forehead crinkled as he spoke to her, his eyebrows furrowed and his tone incredibly hushed. On the other hand, the girl seemed like she was trying to appear nonchalant, keeping her eyes on her food and her free hand gripping at the edge of her chair. 

"Right here, miss." The host directed you to a round table covered by a white cloth, with silverware set for two, a bouquet of roses on the table, with two wooden pillars nearby to ensure privacy. Across from one of the chairs was a large window offering one of the most beautiful nighttime views of London you could ever imagine. You could see three double-decker buses pass right by, surrounded by pedestrians making their way through the rest of the traffic. Behind the buses, a brick apartment complex with black shutters shone through the night with yellow-lit windows. You could only imagine the lives some of those people led, living in such a high-profile area of the city. 

The host took your coat and hung it over your chair, offering you to sit down. "Ah, there she is." A smooth yet crisp, distinct voice made you look up almost immediately. 

Mr. Hiddleston sat down across from you, wearing a black and grey checkered, razor-sharp suit. Every dark hair upon his head was gelled back and combed into place, making his skin seem pale in the warm lighting of the restaurant. Handsome yet almost… predatory, dominating like a creature of the night.

"Thank you so much for meeting with me tonight, I-I really appreciate it." You straightened yourself while reaching for your clutch. Trying to maintain casual eye contact with the CEO sitting across from you, your fingers fumbled around for your recorder for this interview…only to find it missing. Did you forget it at the hotel? Did it fall out of your clutch on the way to your table?

"The pleasure is all mine." Mr. Hiddleston tilted his head. "Is something bothering you?" He calmly asked as if he knew exactly what was running through your mind .

"Um…no, no." Now was not the occasion to waste time rifling through your things. You were in the middle of an interview, a once-in-a-lifetime meeting with the great Thomas Hiddleston. Taking a deep breath, you looked up and made eye contact with him, keeping your expression as professional as possible.

For a moment, it almost felt as if you were meeting him for the first time. Like the events of this afternoon had never happened.

A middle-aged server appeared behind Mr. Hiddleston and poured two glasses of red wine, setting one of them in front of you. "Is it the Zinfandel from 1996?" He asked the server. 

"Yes, sir." 

"Good." Mr. Hiddleston picked up his glass and gently swirled its contents. 

"The chef wanted me to tell you that your appetizer will be arriving shortly."

"I look forward to it." Mr. Hiddleston turned his attention to you now, raising his glass and inviting you to do the same.

Remain professional, you told yourself as you silently joined his toast and took a drink. Let's remember. No more than one glass. You're going to have to remember everything tonight for your article, especially since your voice recorder is MIA. 

"So…" You began after another sip of wine for courage. "Congratulations on your new drug for insomnia." 

"Thank you." Mr. Hiddleston mirrored you and placed his hands on the table. "I'm very proud of the work that's been done. Some of the executives and the scientists are going to celebrate at a nightclub on Friday."

"Sounds like fun."

Mr. Hiddleston's pink, thin lips curled upwards. Just then, the most gourmet-looking plate of bruschetta was placed in the center of the table. Six pieces of toasted bread with golden crusts sat upon the serving platter, topped with yellow and red chopped tomatoes, a few slivers of garlic, ribbons of fresh green basil, and drops of golden olive oil that glimmered in the incandescent lighting of the restaurant.

He eagerly grabbed one of the pieces and immediately took a large bite, his smile signaling his approval to the server while he chewed. 

As you tried one of the bruschetta for yourself, you couldn't help but savor the contrast between the crunch of the bread and the softness of the ripe, juicy tomatoes. The subtle spiciness of the garlic was present enough to be enjoyed, but not enough to overpower the other flavors of the bruschetta, especially the earthy basil. And the smoothness of the olive oil just tied everything together like a ribbon tying a present. "This is delicious." You almost moaned. "Have you…you've probably been here before, right?"

"Of course, darling. I'd want nothing but the best for my newest employee."

Oh wait, that's right. You weren't just interviewing a businessman or a potential criminal, you were interviewing your future boss.  

"I appreciate it, thanks." You managed to say before taking another bite.

Mr. Hiddleston took another sip of wine, and licked his lip. "Have you given them your two weeks' notice yet?"

"I have," you lied. 

"When you've finished writing your story about me, I'd love to see a copy. Preferably before publishing it - I'd rather avoid any unpleasant surprises." Mr. Hiddleston chuckled. 

"I will," you promised, the same way any employee would tell their boss without a word of protest. "So…why insomnia?"

"Well, it is something people struggle with."

You finished your first piece of bruschetta. "Of course, but I thought a company like yours would prefer to focus their attention on more novel, more topical problems that affect people's health. Isn't there already a competitive market for sleeping pills, and natural supplements like melatonin?"

Mr. Hiddleston bit into his second piece of bruschetta, his cheekbones protruding through his porcelain skin while he chewed. "Do you take melatonin?"

"I used to in college…not anymore."

He rested his right elbow on the table while eating. "Melatonin has a half-life of twenty to fifty minutes, which means its effect would diminish by half within that time. In my opinion…that's far too little time for an insomniac to fall asleep."

"But…isn't that kind of a good thing? This way the drug doesn't stay inside the body for too long."

He nods. "Perhaps, but our drug has a longer half-life and none of the side effects." As Mr. Hiddleston continued to explain the science of melatonin and the business pitch of his company's new drug, simultaneously finishing one more piece of bruschetta and the rest of his glass of wine, you couldn't help but admire the breadth of knowledge he carried about his company's work. There was definitely no way that you were going to remember the way he explained in detail how melatonin was found in the pituitary gland of the brain, not without your voice recorder, but the confidence in his voice and his intellect would receive a mention that was more than honorable. As would the fact that his drug apparently had the fewest side effects of any sleeping medication.

Mr.Hiddleston seemed to notice you zoning out, and he leaned back in his seat. As if on cue, the same server from earlier appeared at your table with two menu cards. "I think someone is ready for the main course." Mr. Hiddleston smirked while a menu was given to you. You had barely glanced at the names of the entrées, many of which were in Italian, before Mr.Hiddleston declared his order with perfect pronunciation. "I'll have the torciglioni alla genovese. And the lady will have the…" he pretends to pause for thought, "gnocchi tricolore." With a playful smile, he handed his menu to the server. You reluctantly returned the menu to the server, pleasantly surprised that Mr.Hiddleston would order for you without even asking first. 

But then again…maybe it shouldn't have been such a surprise. After all, Mr.Hiddleston seemed like the man who always preferred to be in control. He was the one who made the reservation, he was the one who sent a driver to pick you up, he was the one who chose the wine, he was the one who initiated the toast, and he was the one now controlling the direction of the conversation. But why would he do all of this, unless he had some sort of ulterior motivation?

"So…" Mr.Hiddleston brought you back into reality by enunciating your name, "what do you think about before you go to sleep? Since we've been talking thus far about insomnia and the inability of some to sleep…what plagues your thoughts at night?" He takes a sip from his second glass of wine. 

"I…think about the work that I have to do the next day." You stammered, tracing the rim of the glass with your finger.

Mr. Hiddleston tutted. "What a pitiful way to live."

Nervously chuckling, you looked down for a moment. "Yeah…you're right."

"Is that all you think about, your work? Surely, there must be something else…someone else that occupies you at night? Come on, darling."

You shook your head, continuing to sheepishly laugh. "No. No one."

He glanced at his silver Officine Panerai watch, and then turned his attention back to you, grinning like a playwright witnessing his own scenes being brought to life. "You know, sometimes the things we think about at night affect the quality of our sleep."

Just then, the server returned with both of your entreés. He placed a platter of rigatoni-like pasta tossed in meat sauce in front of Mr.Hiddleston and then proceeded to grate fresh pecorino cheese on top of the dish, effortlessly moving the block of cheese along the grater as if he were playing a mandolin. The server stopped as soon as Mr.Hiddleston raised his hand, and respectfully backed away. While Mr.Hiddleston tasted a forkful of the torciglioni alla genovese, closing his eyes while he chewed, the server brought you the gnocchi tricolore. The little red, green, and yellow dumplings were evenly covered in a thin tomato sauce that smelled of Italian herbs. Just as he'd done with Mr.Hiddleston's entrée, the server began to grate a little fresh cheese on top of your food, just enough to garnish the gnocchi. 

"My compliments to the chef tonight," Mr.Hiddleston beamed after he'd finished his first bite. "The lamb ragu is exquisite."

"I'll be sure he gets the message, sir." The server cleared the table of the remaining bruschetta, refilled Mr.Hiddleston's wine, and left the table.

Feeling a little bold in the moment, you straightened yourself and leaned forward ever-so-slightly. "And what about you, Mr.Hiddleston?"

"What about me, darling?" Mr. Hiddleston continued to enjoy his pasta, returning to his former delight.

"What do you think about when you fall asleep?" You pricked your fork into a few of the gnocchi, preparing to take a bite.

He chuckled, showing a thin row of white teeth. "Nothing."

Holding a hand over your mouth while you chewed, the gnocchi almost seemed to melt in your mouth. The tomato-based sauce seemed to complement the starchy, potato flavor of the tri-colored dumplings very well without overpowering the dish, and it was unlike anything you'd ever had before. "Nothing?"

Mr.Hiddleston shook his head, mimicking your gesture.

You almost found yourself wishing this truly was a date and not an interview. If it was a date, you could completely focus on how utterly charming Mr.Hiddleston could be…maybe you could forget, even just for a moment, that this man was the same person who threatened to sue the magazine you worked for. That this man was the one who could've blacklisted you in the world of journalism and yet chose to offer you a job at his company.

"The truth is that…I don't sleep very often." He confessed while the two of you ate. "About three or four hours a night. My schedule keeps me quite busy."

You asked him if he ever needed medication to sleep, and he laughed quietly.

"As a matter of fact, no. Quite ironic, isn't it darling?" Mr.Hiddleston continued, "When I retire for the night, however late it may be, I'm very tired to the point that my eyes close as soon as my head meets the pillow. Truly, it's that simple."

"You really are a busy man," was all you could say. 

He finished his second glass of wine. "You'll have a chance to see that firsthand when you start working for me next week."

Next week? How on earth were you going to start a new job in one week? Is that really the date he listed on his contract, or was Mr.Hiddleston trying to mess with you? You gulped, looking down at your half-eaten gnocchi. You would need to find a place to live, a way to commute to the headquarters of Imperial Pharmaceuticals, a work permit…and that was just the tip of the iceberg.

"Besides," Mr.Hiddleston added, "I find real life much more fascinating than the Realm of Morpheus, especially…right now."

The server soon returned, inquiring if the two of you were interested in ordering dessert. Mr.Hiddleston politely declined, glancing in your direction. "My sweet tooth has already been satiated. Just the cheque will be fine, and a takeaway box with calamari and arancini."

Wondering what the takeaway box could possibly be for, you watched the server clear the table once again and made a mental note to pick up some ice cream when this interview is over. When the cheque arrived inside a black Castilian folder, you reached for your credit card and placed it on top before Mr.Hiddleston gently put his hand on top of yours.

"This is a business expense," he explained with a smirk, handing his black MasterCard to the server. "A welcome dinner to celebrate my newest employee." 

Mr.Hiddleston raised the glass of wine again and proposed a toast. "To your future at Imperial Pharmaceuticals." The server returned his card to him, and handed him a bag containing the takeaway box he requested. "Ah, thank you." He handed the server a fifty-pound note.

Mr.Hiddleston pushed your chair back, gently helped you put your coat on, and personally returned your clutch to you. Then, he offered you his arm and the two of you walked towards the exit of the restaurant. In that moment, you swore that a stray camera - probably not paparazzi - nearly blinded you for a moment. On the other hand, the CEO of Imperial Pharmaceuticals was barely paying any attention. With the arm holding the takeaway bag, Mr.Hiddleston raised a mobile phone to his ear and conversed in a serious tone.

"Miss Adler, I understand that you think you know them well, but I assure you, Shelby will take care of the trouble in Baker Street. I think my men can handle a pair of boys with big heads. Perhaps it's in your best interest to back away from the matter now. This is your last warning." 

With those words, Mr.Hiddleston ended the call. 

Baker Street…why did that name sound so familiar to you? And then, you remembered something you'd seen while rifling through Mr.Hiddleston's office - on top of his desk, there was a stick note that said, 'Silence the Baker Street Boys.' That could only mean that he was planning to do something to the detective that lived there, the one who knew about Mr.Hiddleston's potential involvement in a mass overdose within a London community riddled with drug addicts. But…if Mr.Hiddleston found the need to 'silence' someone with a word against him, then it probably meant that Mr.Hiddleston wasn't just involved in it, but might've had a hand in organizing the crime. Either way, the Baker Street Boys - including the detective - needed to watch their backs.

"I believe this brings us to the end of our evening together." Mr.Hiddleston turned to you with a smile.

You nodded. "Thank you very much for dinner…this was nice."

Mr.Hiddleston leaned in and kissed your cheek just like he did earlier today, sending a tingle down your spine. As he leaned in, you caught a whiff of his cologne - the same sophisticated scents of vanilla and champagne - and felt your heartbeat quicken just a little. 

He walked towards the front of the black town car parked outside the restaurant and presented the takeaway to the driver, the same jovial man who brought you here, as a gift for his troubles that evening. After bidding you good night, and making sure you got into the car safely, Mr. Hiddleston took out his keys from his pocket and opened the door to his own vehicle: a sleek, dark grey Jaguar.

He climbed into the front seat and locked the door. Then, he leaned back in the front seat and fished from his pocket…your voice recorder. He'd swiped it from the host of the restaurant, the same one who escorted you inside and helped you remove your coat. From there, the host was able to steal the recorder from your pocket and hand it to Mr.Hiddleston under the table.

Mr.Hiddleston pressed the play button, a small smile forming on his face as soon as he heard your voice. "Thank you so much for meeting with me tonight, I-I really appreciate it."

He murmured with a small smirk, glancing at the rear-view mirror to see the black town car drive away. "It was my pleasure." Mr.Hiddleston set the voice recorder aside, and put his foot on the ignition pedal.

Tagging: @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @thatdummy-girl @holdmytesseract @icytrickster17 @winterfrostlovetriangle @cakesandtom @mischievoushiddleston @lady-rose-moon @turniptitaness @jennyggggrrr @the-haven-of-fiction @fantasyfan4life @hellomadamebutterfly @sallymagnoliaposts @gigglingtigger @marveloushiddleston @venomdeathly @raelorns21 @smolvenger

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Interview of a lifetime

PAIRING | Tom Hiddleston x Female!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.3K

SUMMARY | You have your first celebrity interview with the one and only Tom Hiddleston after the release of season 1 of 'Loki'. You're extremely nervous and when Tom finds out, he will do anything to make you feel safe and help you get through your first interview.

WARNING(S) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. Anxiety attack.

A/N | Hi all! This is the first one-shot I've written for Tom, he is such a gentleman in my opinion and I just couldn't help myself with this fic. I hope you will enjoy it as much if not more than I did when writing it!

Likes and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💜

Main Masterlist | Tom Hiddleston Masterlist

Two weeks ago, your boss told you that you would be doing your first major celebrity interview - with none other than Tom Hiddleston himself - after the release of season 1 of the series called 'Loki'. When he told you, your first thoughts were very exciting, this could mean your big break, but when it sank in a little bit, you couldn't help but feel nervous, more nervous than you usually felt in a moment like this. Despite this, you researched a lot about Tom, Loki, and the series he was playing in, watching it as well so you would be prepared as to what was to come during the interview. Nothing could have prepared you for what actually happened though.

The morning of the interview, you made sure you had all your questions with you on your cue cards, so you would have something to fall back on if you happened to forget a question or something, but you weren't really worried too much about that. What you were most nervous about, was meeting Tom, and seeing what he was like, since you never met him. In the interviews you saw of him he looked really down to earth and like a true gentleman, but that didn't really mean anything. People could be the nicest in front of the camera and really bad people when the camera's turned off, but that wasn't the case with Tom, at all.

You decided to wear a simple white and blue sundress which always made you happy. You put on your leather jacket over it, finishing it with your black Doctor Martens boots. You wore simple make-up, not wanting to take away from the outfit too much, and your hair hung loose in waves around your shoulders. You looked at yourself in the mirror one more time before grabbing your bag and keys, ready to head out the door and to the studio for the interview. It was a 30-minute drive, which wasn't too bad, but the closer you got, the more the nerves took over how you felt.

When you arrived at the studio you parked your car and headed inside. You were still too early, but you'd take that over being even a minute late every single time. ''Hi, my name is Y/N and I'm supposed to conduct an interview here today,'' you tell the lady behind the reception desk. You have to sign in and then she showed you to the studio where the interview would be held. You got ready to sit in your chair and wait until Tom and his team arrived, reading through your questions again just so you can be sure you know what you want to ask. It doesn't take long before they arrive, and your nerves start taking over instantly.

''Good morning!'' you say in a cheerful voice, and you're surprised it comes out like that because you can feel your anxiety rising to your chest. You couldn't believe you were in the same room as TOM. FREAKING. HIDDLESTON. ''Hey, good morning! I'm Tom, and you're name is...?'' he asked when he extended his hand out to you. ''Hi, I'm Y/N, it's really nice to meet you Mr. Hiddleston!'' you answer and he says you can call him Tom, there was no need for that kind of formalities. ''It's nice to meet you too. How are you doing this morning?'' he asked as he sat in his chair, his makeup being touched up just a little bit while the cameras are being set up. ''I'm good, excited, and nervous at the same time honestly. It's the first time I'm doing a celebrity interview, so I hope it will go well,'' you tell him.

''You're going to be fine, we're not in a hurry, so if you need to we can take a break in between the questions. I get how difficult it can be to do something like this,'' he said with a reassuring smile, and you couldn't believe he was so understanding. This made you feel a little better, but that didn't take away from the fact that your chest still felt like it was on fire, and you had some difficulty breathing. ''Are you ready?'' his manager asked, and you nodded yes, so the cameras started rolling. ''The first season of Loki has just premiered, how was the filming process?'' you started the interview, and he gladly told you all about how it was to work with everyone on set and the filming process as a whole. Hearing him talk did make you calm down a little, and you were happy you got to ask some questions without stumbling over your words.

You were about 7 questions in when you suddenly got a bad rush of anxiety, you had some difficulty breathing, and you stumbled upon your words. ''Are you okay, Y/N? Do we need to take a break?'' Tom asked worried, and he stopped the interview to make sure you were okay. ''Hey, it's okay. You're okay. Breathe with me okay? He took a deep breath in through his nose and breathed out through his mouth. He repeated this a couple of times together with you, and after about 10 breaths your heart rate slowed down, and you didn't feel like you were unable to breathe anymore. The tears that threatened to fall down your face also went away, and you could compose yourself a little. ''Here, we have some water for you, take it easy and we can continue when you're ready,'' his manager said, Tom was still by your side rubbing your back soothingly.

''How are you doing now? Feeling a little better?'' he asked and you nodded. ''I'm so sorry, I tried to keep it under control, but my anxiety got the best of me. I feel horrible I had to stop the interview...'' you said with a soft voice, your sadness strongly intertwined in your voice. ''It happens to the best of us, I completely understand and it is nothing to be ashamed of. I used to have them all the time when growing up, and I know how horrible they can be. But you're going to be fine, and whenever you're ready we can continue,'' he said. You just needed a few more minutes before continuing, and the rest of the interview went by smoothly.

''Thank you so much, for your kindness and understanding. Again, I'm really sorry that it happened, but it was really nice of you to help me,'' you said to Tom, but he didn't want to hear any of it. ''Hey, like I said, it's no problem at all, it happens to the best of us. I was happy to help you feel better, I hate seeing people in distress like that,'' he said and he gave you another reassuring smile. ''Thank you, for everything,'' you said, and you extended your hand out to him as thanks, but instead, he gave you a hug. ''It was my pleasure, and I know you will be great at interviews. I can't wait to be interviewed by you again,'' he said.

When you pulled back you had a huge smile on your face. ''Oh, I'm sorry but I hope I won't overstep, but would it be possible to get your signature or maybe a selfie? I've been a fan of your work for a while now, it's okay if you say no though!'' you ask shyly and Tom is more than happy to agree. The two of you take a selfie together, and he signs the case of your laptop before walking out of the room and waving goodbye. When you go home you are all giddy and can't stop thinking about the fact that he was so extremely thoughtful and helpful. And best of all, you got a selfie with him, and it would be the wallpaper on your phone for a really long time.