You are dragged to a dance club only to meet a nice Cambridge boy who likes dancing. You didn’t know how much one dance would change your life.
A Tom Hiddleston X Reader Fan Fiction
Pure and Utter Smut | Adult Themes
“You’re mine. You will always be mine.” Loki states. His large hand pins your wrists above your head as his leather clad body presses you into the wall. His free hand cups your exposed breast, ghosting his thumb over your sensitive nipple. “Tell me who you need.”
“You,” you whimper. He smirks at your admission.
“Tell me what you need,” he growls.
“You. Only you.”
His mouth descends on your neck, sucking and biting at your pulse point. All you can do in his iron grip is writhe and moan as his assault sends waves of pleasure through your body.
Your hands still held above your head, he reaches down to raise one of your legs, pulling it up and around his waist. He steps in to better pin you when he lifts your other leg up.
“Oh, God,” you exclaim when you feel the head of his shaft pushing into your wetness.
“Yes, the only God you will ever need.” His lips crash into yours, plundering their softness as his cock lays claim to your core.
Bacon… that enticing scent that promises salty crisped fat-back pork strip wakes you from your dream, your mouth salivating for its distinct flavor, even as your body clenches and yearns for something, someone else with his own unique scent and taste. How could it have been so many years and yet you still crave him?
Jules is gone from your bed. It’s just as well given your dream. You get up to face the day, uncertain what to expect in light of the previous night’s revelations. You hear your daughter’s soft voice, answered by Ben’s deeper one, from the front room. You make your way to the bathroom and clean up, changing your clothes before joining the pair at the dining table.
“Good morning,” Ben tells you, sliding a coffee cup your way. He deftly fills it from a waiting pot of coffee. You add your customary three lumps of sugar and a large ‘splash’ of cream before stirring it and taking a timid sip. You grimace and Ben laughs at the face you pulled. “I don’t know why you even stock the stuff if you don’t like it. It’s not as if you ever entertain guests here.”
“Upbringing I suppose,” you shrug, taking another revolting sip. “Besides, you’re over enough and you like it.” Pushing the cup away, you snag a slice of bacon from Ben’s plate.
Ben rises, grabbing your cup and making his way to the sink. He dumps the unwanted foul liquid out and rinses the cup. You hear him put on the kettle to boil. “You know your way around my kitchen too well, Ben.”
“I ought to after, what, seven years?”
“Nearly eight. Remember? I was altering costumes at Almeida when you auditioned for The Lady from the Sea.”
He smiles at the fond memory, “Oh yes; that was a production wasn’t it?”
“It was a good cast. Everyone was so kind. I was sorry to see the run come to an end. I was so grateful when you recommended me to costuming for Hedda Gabler… a role for which you won the Ian Charleston Award for Best Classical Stage Performance, if memory serves.”
“Don’t butter my toast young lady.” The whistle of the kettle accompanies his admonishment. He is soon placing a cup of Earl Grey in front of you. He’s prepared it precisely as you like and you sigh in contentment at the first sip, eliciting a chuckle from Ben.
“I can’t help it if you were spectacular in that role, but you have been in every part I’ve seen you play.”
“Fangirl,” he teases, taking the piece of bacon you were eying. Waving it at you like a wagging finger, he states, “You were working entirely too many jobs for your health. You needed a foot in the door for the production and I was happy to provide one for a friend.”
“Mum?” Jules interrupts. “Is Loki really my daddy?”
“Mr. Hiddleston is your father, yes.”
“He didn’t look right, Mum.”
“He wasn’t feeling himself, is all. He’ll be better the next time he visits you.” At her daughter’s uncertain look, she hastens to add, “He’d had quite the shock; it seems he didn’t know about you until last night.”
Jules doesn’t seem convinced. “Why didn’t you tell me before that he was my daddy?”
You let out a breath, frowning. How much should you tell her? What parts should you leave out? Your expression softens, “I had left word with his agent about you, yet he never called or tried to get in touch with me. I thought it meant he didn’t want to be part of your life. I was trying to protect you from what I thought was the truth.”
She nods in understanding, turning her focus back to her own plate of eggs and bacon.
“How long have you known?” Ben’s gentle question came as no surprise.
“I was waiting at the doctor’s with Jules when I heard his voice on the telly. It was an episode of Wallander. I asked the lady sitting next to us who he was. That was 2008.”
“I can’t imagine Tom knowing about Jules and not calling. He’s great with children; he adores them. I’m telling you, it isn’t like him to do this.”
“Jules, would you go to your room to play so I can speak with Ben?”
“Yes, Mum. May we go to the park after?”
“Of course, Sweetie.” You wait until she has left the table and hear her door close before you say anything. “Ben, I’m scared. I don’t know what to expect from him. I don’t want him to take her away from me. What will I do if he decides he would be the better parent? I can’t afford a solicitor to fight him for custody. If he only wants visitation… that means I would have to see him, talk to him…” The tears begin to fall again at the distressing thoughts.
Ben moves around the table to pull you into a hug. “He won’t take her from you. He doesn’t seem the sort who would try. Is that what you’re really afraid of, or is it being near him that has you trembling?”
You freeze, knowing that’s the crux of it. You doubt the courts would take Jules from you, even if it’s to grant custody to a rich celebrity who could certainly provide her with her every wish. She’s your daughter and he had made no effort to be in her life, despite your giving your direction to his agents. They may grant him visitation or partial custody, but you wouldn’t lose her. “I still love him, Ben. I mean, I hate him for abandoning me and never calling or getting in touch, but…” You make a strangled sound of frustration, “…it still hurts so much. Shouldn’t I be indifferent to him by now?”
He kisses the top of your head. “I can’t tell you what you should be feeling about Tom. I do think the two of you have a great deal to talk about.”
You look at your hands, mulling over the possibilities. You knew you would need to face Tom, but was it far too late for talking? You wanted to hope. However, you needed to know one thing before trying. “Ben, what happened with him last night? Was he still here? Did you have to make him go? Did he say anything to you?”
“That was more than one thing,” he lightly teases. “Here, sip your tea.” He hands you your cooling cup, knowing it will help to calm your nerves and settle your anxiety. “He was sitting outside on the stoop when I pulled up. He didn’t tell me anything specific, only that he acted the barmy wanker towards you. He said he had some serious thinking to do and asked that I make sure you and Jules were alright. I asked if he needed a lift home, but he said the walk would do him good.”
“Have you talked to him since?”
“No. I haven’t.” He feels you draw breath to protest not checking on his friend. Before you can set voice to your admonishment, he pulls his phone out. “Let me text him.”
As his fingers tap out the message, you ask him to add one of your own. “Tell him… tell him I would like for him to return so we can talk.” Ben nods, adding the missive and hitting send.
You take deep breaths, knowing Tom had to come back, for Jules’s sake you tell yourself. Yet the thought of facing him again terrifies you. You close your eyes, willing yourself to calm down. You nearly jump out of your skin when Ben’s phone chimes a response. He picks up the phone, reading the words Tom sent. “Okay. He’s on the way. Do you want me to go? I can take Jules to the park while you speak with Tom alone.” He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear and gives you a light squeeze of reassurance.
Though your fears want to cling to Ben’s presence, you know Jules shouldn’t be around if voices are raised again. “Do you mind taking her? Maybe let her feed the ducks, if they’re out in this cold, and get a chocolate from the cafe?”
He smiles. “Of course. We need her in as low stress as possible. If something happens I am a call away. I will assume you need your privacy for a few hours. If you need longer text me, or I will come back.” He tips your face up so you can see him wink at you.
You can’t help but smile and groan. “He’s only coming over to talk. Nothing else!” You push on his chest shaking your head.
Ben smirks, hugging you tighter for a moment. “Mmmhmmm.”
“You aren’t helping,” you tell him.
“Yet you’re smiling.” He gives you a nudge. “Go, get ready. Get Jules ready.”