much ado writing

“Love,” he groaned weakly. “If we don’t stop now, I’m taking you right here. Right now.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Hiddleston.”

And for a brief moment, you both considered the damaging repercussions. His face would be in the tabloids. He’d lose any sort of credence as a respectable actor. You’d lose your job. No one wanted a woman who had sex in the middle of a park teaching their babies.

Fuck them.

“Alright, love birds. Get a room—,” echoed throughout the park as the radio DJ had spotted the two making out from across the field. Before you two could look over, the music stylings of ACDC began to play with the familiar “You Shook Me All Night Long.”

A faint chuckle escaped Tom’s lips as he finally pulled away from you. “He has a point.”

You wanted to smack him for daring to pull away from you, but once there was some space between you two—it was a bit easier to think clearly. Just a bit. Collecting your purse, you carefully maneuvered yourself so you didn’t give anyone more of a show.

“We’re getting a car,” you informed him, as Tom had already stood up. Your breathing remained quick and didn’t slow down, Tom towering over you. Did he get taller?

“Anything to get us back to the room faster, darling,” he agreed, placing a hand along your waist.

Now the logical thing to do would be to keep your distance from one another until you had some privacy. Is that what happened? Of course not. Waiting beside the road, Tom stayed tangled around you as you got an uber.

“Knocking me out with those American thighs,” beard rubbing against the soft skin of your earlobe. Body melting against his, the only thing keeping you upright was his hold on you. His deep chuckle telling you that he was exceedingly pleased with himself.

Once you were both secure in the car and you had instructed the driver to take you to the back entry of the hotel, you took advantage of the privacy offered. Hand immediately cupped between Tom’s leg, earning a groan on both your parts. Even housed beneath the wet fabric, you could feel just how very hard he was for you. And you knew—it was all for you. Growling, outright growling for you, he devoured your lips. Tongue swirled inside the warmth your mouth provided. Your need for him building, vaguely wondering if he could make you peak before ever entering your wet center.

“We still need condoms,” accent thick against your lips as a hand moved to tangle into your damp ponytail.

“Fuck it,” you asserted, pulling his bottom lip towards you, grinning as you felt him throb against your hand.

It took Tom everything he had in him to focus on the conversation and not slipping a hand beneath your skirt to check if you were telling the truth earlier. “Are you sure? But—.”

“Doesn’t matter,” an interrupted challenge. “Let’s have a baby. We’ll have a litter of them. I’m talking Von Trapp amount,” the words tumbling from your lips, filled with lust and love for the man you were currently tangled in. Had you not been overpowered with need you could have pulled together some scrap of sanity. Not now. All you wanted was him.

Judging by the way Tom’s hips bucked against your hand, and the guttural moan that escaped his lips–he had no qualms with your suggestion. Again, if either of you weren’t nearly as turned on—you’d recognize that you should probably stop and get condoms. But all Tom could picture was fucking you senseless, putting a baby in you, and making sure everyone knew you were his.

“Ours,” he offered, splaying a hand out against your abdomen that sent unexpected sparks right down to your core. Oh, this was a new kink.

“Ours,” you breathed out helplessly, free hand coming to rest over his hand—all you could picture was him filling you up to your absolute breaking point.

“Mine,” he claimed, pulling you closer despite there already being so little room between you two. At least now, the angle made it near impossible for the driver to notice how Tom’s hand slid right up your thigh—and determined you indeed weren’t wearing anything underneath that dress of yours.

As soon as warm fingers found their way to your slippery folds, you squeaked. “Quiet, baby,” Tom cooed, watching as your eyes had slid closed.

You had never been anyone’s baby–and you had never heard the term come from the man before. It was now your new favorite word in the English language.

“Be a good girl,” he ordered and again, were these normal circumstances—you would have thrown a sarcastic remark his way. You weren’t anyone’s good girl.

“Yes, sir.”

Well, that was wildly inaccurate now.

“I’m the only one who gets to hear those delectable noises,” he whispered into your ear, which was hard to concentrate on since he punctuated his point by sliding a finger up and down your wet folds. “Those noises belong to me.”

You nodded dumbly, wishing you could contribute to this conversation, but honestly—did you know how to speak anymore?

“And this—,” he swiped again, this time pausing right before your opening. You didn’t have a clue how many fingers slipped inside of you. At this point, it had been such a long time since anything was in you—it felt like a semi-truck. Again, if you had any sense about you, you’d worry just how exactly Tom was going to fit inside of you. “Mine…”

“Yours,” you chimed in, situating your hips to accommodate his fingers. Your mouth opened to let out another gasp, but Tom was quick to capture your lips.

Thankfully he did render your mouth incapable,  as the car hit a pothole, making your eyes go wide as everything pulsed inside of you. Tom + the Atlanta infrastructure was about to make you cum.

The car came to a stop shortly after, followed by a very awkward farewell from your driver. “Thank you!” you called as you slipped out of the seat, praying that the seats were wet because you two had literally been doused.

The back entrance to the hotel was always less crowded than the main lobby, which was needed since Tom had cracked his mask—-and you were likely dripping. You would have thought that the journey to the elevator would have dimmed either of your desires, but it certainly had not. Slipping into the empty elevator was a sign to continue where you both left off in the car. Suddenly, your back was against the glass, Tom pressing his length to your abdomen.

You were twitching with need. And so was he.

“Tell me—,”eyes peering up into those stormy depths. You adored how dark his eyes became when he craved you. “---say it again.”

He searched your eyes for just a moment, hands securely against your hips. “I love you,” he knew what you wanted to hear and without him needing to request—

“I love you too.”

Then, you were both all hands and mouths and tongues—no longer were you pressed against the glass wall. Instead, you turned into horny teenagers. Giggles and laughter erupting between kisses as neither of you could understand how you became so incredibly lucky.

The elevator gave a much needed ‘ding’---promptly falling out of it into a group of people dressed as different characters from Doctor Who. They were enjoying themselves so much that they didn’t even recognize Tom as more than any other happy convention patron. The atrium allowed for an echo to be heard throughout—excitement and festivities running rampant. It added to your gleeful moods, coupled with your firm wanting.

You fumbled with your purse, trying to locate your room key, as Tom was doing the same–each with the shared goal of getting into the room. However, you simultaneously worked on unbuttoning or unclasping different garments as you continued your quick pace down the hall. Still, all giggles as you caught sight of the other.

By the time one of you got the door unlocked, Tom threw his belt across the darkened room. Your dress was off in a matter of mere seconds, exposing everything but your breasts. Shoes kicked off—one even hitting Tom’s shin with a groan, but he was too busy jumping out of his jeans.

“Shirt,” you ordered, pointing at his article of clothing in the pale light of the Atlanta skyline shining in the windows—-wanting it off.

“Bra, now,” a rumble in the dark, hearing the thick fabric of his jeans puddling on the floor.

Your eyes had barely adjusted, seeking out the form of this magnificent man. All you knew was to follow the order you were so clearly given, tossing your bra to the opposite side of the room. Before you had a chance to become worried about your naked body exposed, even in the dark, you were enveloped by warm arms, lifting you from the ground. Forced to wrap your legs around his torso, you soon came to realize that Tom was naked in record time.

“Y/N—,” he breathed, walking you both backwards until his legs hit the end of the bed.

Your hands searched for his face, a moment of desperation and dread filling you for some unknown reason. It was as if every emotion was on the very tip of your core. At any moment, you could cry or laugh—or sing—or all of the above. “I don’t ever want to be without you,” you admitted in the dark, holding onto him as if your life depended on it. Because–it did. Tonight, you could not imagine a life without Tom.

And if it were up to him, you would never have to… “Oh, darling…” his body aching for you. “I’ve been yours since the first time I heard your voice—recording your class,” continuing to hold you up over the bed, cradling your head in his hand. He could just make out the side of your face in the pale light.

“You have?” you asked softly. “Tom…,” a whisper before a desperate kiss.

The kiss reignited the flame that was near painful at this point, bringing you down to rest against the comforter. Your shared actions became needy once more, sucking on any exposed skin available.

“I need you inside of me,” and it was your chance for words to turn dark.

Tom did not need to be asked twice, hovering over your body as he slowly, smoothly, slid inside your wet folds.

“Oh, fuck—” “Oh, God!”

Your free hand went back to hit the headboard, mouth agape as you tried to find the right words. There were no words besides those of utter amazement. You felt so full, an exquisite pain that could only be brought on by sheer size. It was as though he had reached your core.

“Can I keep going, baby?” Tom questioned in a way that sounded as though he would continue on his motions whatever answer you may give.

“What do you—oh, fuck me!” you screamed, slamming your hand against the board as Tom continued to slide into you. Your cries filled the room, much like Tom was doing to you. All you could say was a repetitive line of ‘fuck me’ over and over until Tom let out a mighty groan, signaling that he was all the way inside of you.

You were so incredibly tight, as he fought against your body to stay situated within you. Already feeling the tension mounting within him, he refused to give in. You weren’t helping matters with your screamed expletives. Each one arousing him more and more. “Fuck…,” he hissed, slowly sliding out—which was absolutely excruciating for you both.

However, when he slammed back into you, your other hand came to rest on the headboard, gripping onto it for dear life. Hips arching into his—you were oblivious to everything else the world had to offer besides the glorious sensations below your waist. Tom could feel you relaxing around him, creating just enough relief to form a rhythm in his thrusts. As soon as he began his carnal melody, your hands released the headboard and found sanctuary around his neck.

He could read your mind, leaning back and lifting you with him until you sat nestled atop his lap, bouncing. Not only were you in sync but when he realized his eyes had been closed, he opened them to be greeted with the inviting sight of your ample breasts heaving up and down. “That’s a good girl. Come on, baby,” he soothed, noting the sweat that stuck your bodies together. “You’re so good at riding Da—”

“Holy fuck—,” you interrupted him, but maintained your motions. “--- if you say Daddy right now, I’m going to cum so hard, but also have to address every past relationship and kink I’ve ever had, so—shit, shit, shit….” you begged, having enough sense left about you that you couldn’t go there quite yet. Yet.

His deep laughter and kiss along your collarbone was his only response, feeling you pulsate against him. It was becoming increasingly difficult for him not to give into that sweet release, so he was relieved to feel you go rigid, gripping onto him as tightly as you could in all regards.

Your cries also played their part as he thrusted up into you, eyes opened to take in everything about you. You were magnificent. The love of his life… You owned him from here on out. And as he felt your body go limp at the end of your climax, by some act of divine intervention—he had enough sense to lift you up and off of him. When you were situated back on his lap, Tom allowed that rolling climax to take control, pressing his forehead against your bare breast as it wreaked havoc over his body. Both of you actively being covered in his juices which luckily would not get you pregnant this time.

After allowing your heart rates to come down and a good wash-up (which could have been done faster had you both not taken advantage of the spacious shower and another orgasm apiece), you laid in bed—wrapped in each others’ arms.

“I’ve learned so much about you this evening, darling,” Tom teased, planting a lazy kiss on your forehead.

A content hum, adjusting your bare leg draped over his. “I don’t know, baby. Sounds to me like someone here has a ‘Daddy’ kink—,” earning your bottom to get a light smack.

“How many children were in the Von Trapp family again? Six or seven?” poking fun at your mention of the family while in the backseat of the Uber, as you gave an equally lazy shove against his chest.

“Seven. I know that because I’m a good girl.”

“I think we have adequately determined that the things said during passion shall remain there. No life altering decisions when you aren’t wearing any underwear,” finding himself drifting off, perfectly at ease.

“So, proposing to you right now is out of the question?” you asked, however Tom was already asleep by the time you finished speaking and you weren’t long for this world either. It was a perfect day.

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

Sliding into a corner booth, Tom stood over you. “Move it on over,” he sang, gesturing for you to slide.

Your giggles didn’t stop you from following his direction, giving him enough room to sit beside you. “Why don’t you ever sing more?”

“The noise complaints would be atrocious” his simple answer accompanied with a shrug. Taking off the mask, Tom placed it on the other side of you, where you had also tucked away your purse. He had put his contacts back in after the nap, thankful that there was nothing hindering his desire to give you a kiss whenever he so chose. Although there were two menus on the table, he opened one and nestled it between you both to share.

Despite a roomy booth, your sides pressed together. A large palm splayed across your slightly exposed thigh was enough to keep your mind from focusing on the menu. Who could think of a double chocolate milkshake when you rather Tom drink you in?

“Steady,” he whispered, able to detect how your breathing had quickened. “Wouldn’t want to soak right through to the booth, would we?” another whisper designed to get a rise out of you.

However, you played it cool—leaning in as well. “You’re assuming I’m wearing anything underneath this dress,” you teased. The groan that rumbled beside you left you grinning from ear to ear. Tom’s temple fell against your shoulder in defeat and longing, planting a kiss just where bare shoulder began.

He wanted to say it right then. I love you.

And you wanted to say the words more and more with each second you spent with this man. There was nothing stopping you. You would say it. Here. In this booth. Your first meal shared together in person. Pressed against one another.

Until—- “Sorry about that wait, folks!” the waitress damn well must have teleported beside the booth as you both jumped from her greeting.

The meal was filled with laughter, kisses—at one point, you threw a fry at him and Tom caught it in his mouth. He ordered extra condiments for you, knowing how you essentially used everything as a vessel for dipping sauces. It was as though you both had shared countless meals together in each other’s presence. Considering this could have been declared a first date, there was no bits of awkwardness or lull in conversation (you both must have used up your fair share of awkwardness earlier). Everything was perfect.

“I think they’ve finally realized who you are,” you pointed out, leaning around him slightly to see your waitress and a few others throwing giddy looks his way.

“I’ll put the mask back on if it makes you more comfortable, darling.” His concern was heartbreaking. Was he worried that you would rather him stay covered up?

“Do whatever makes you comfortable, honey. They aren’t bothering me and they haven’t said anything to us during our whole meal,” giving his leg a squeeze, your hand having found its way upon his thigh halfway through dinner. It belonged there.

The use of the endearment left butterflies in his stomach. He wanted to be it all to you. Tom, dear. Honey. Mr. Hiddleston–when you were particularly cross with him. He would be anything you wanted him to be.

As your meal wrapped up, it wasn’t until Tom was filling out the check that your waitress came over, anxiously biting her bottom lip. “Would you—would you mind if I took a picture with you?” she asked meekly.

Tom was beginning to look to you for approval, feeling out the situation. Your heart went out to this young woman and how this was possibly the highlight of her week. “Here. Let me take it for you two,” you beamed, lifting up to your knees in the booth.

“Would it be alright if I put my arm around you?” Tom asked her kindly, to which she responded in all grins and giggles. He took that to mean ‘yes’.

You snapped a couple with her phone, but continued to tell the pair to wait as you repositioned. “He’s a damn giant. I want to make sure I have you both in the shot,” joking, earning both participants an extra bout of laughter and smiles.

“Thank you so much!” the young woman gushed, taking the phone from you and clutching it tightly.

“Could you do us the same favor?” Tom asked with equal politeness, fishing his phone from his pocket and handing it over to the nodding waitress.

Your heart swelled–as these weren’t pictures with him donning a mask or a facetime conversation. He slid his arm around your waist. You leaned in, basking in his warm aroma as though he were a fucking Bath & Body Works candle. He wasn’t real.

You could say it now. I love you. I never want to be without you. You could lean in, whisper it–have a picture proof of the first moment you ever said it to Tom… But the moment was gone as quickly as it came. The girl took the picture and the phone was back in Tom’s possession. He refused to let you see it right away, for fear you would be little how you looked. Never could be pleased. He wasn’t going to have anything ruin the perfect end to a perfect meal.

As you exited the restaurant, you were met with the warm summer air of the city. The humidity left the air wet, but after growing up in the South–you welcomed the sensation. You pulled your hair up in a high ponytail, caring more about comfort than what it could possibly look like to anyone. And Tom adored watching you unwind before him. The ease in which you spoke and moved—the way your eyes lit up when you talked of ‘your kids’ or the gentle circles you drew on his thigh as you asked him questions about his life… Everything you two had built over miles apart was still all right here.

“The park is this way,” you instructed, reaching your hand out for him to take it. He didn’t put the mask back on as the crowds on the street were nothing compared to the volume in the hotel.

Music could be heard the further on you walked, growing louder and louder as an open park came into focus. Now, you had never been to any other city in your lifetime. The Atlanta skyline was the largest you had ever seen in person, but oh how it took your breath away every time you came to the park where the beauty of the city was showcased.

The music was coming from a local radio station setting up shop in the middle of an open field. People dancing, playing sports, running with their pets—it was a sight as you both crossed the street towards the entrance.

It took us a while With every breath a new day With love on the line We've had our share of mistakes But all your flaws and scars are mine

Recognizing the song immediately as Ellie Goulding’s “Still Falling For You”, you pulled away from Tom to join in with the song, giving a little spin in the open field, some distance from the main set-up. “Do you know it?” you called out to your boyfriend, another little spin as you belted out the lyrics.

“Afraid not,” he lied, wanting nothing to take away from this picture he was creating in his mind. Never before had someone made him feel so at ease and so incredibly loved. You radiated it. Your care and compassion for others—your endless need to love… Perhaps that’s why he never pushed for you to say the words… He knew how you felt. However, being in your presence, it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep the words to himself.

“And just like that,” you belted out, opening your arms wide as you spun around. You had held so much worry in you for days—months even, wondering if everything would be alright when Tom actually met you—it was such a release to feel that connection. “All I breathe—All I feel–,” you laughed, a brief stop in spinning to point towards Tom who had the biggest smile on his face that you had ever seen.

“You are all for me. I'm in,” he sang back, following you as you resumed your dancing and spinning.

Your movements had brought you back to the walkway’s stone and away from the grass. There were a few people in the area, but everyone sat along the perimeter—the same carefree attitude in the air. There was less space between you and Tom now as he lessened it with each broad step. He had to tell you–he had to hold you. There was no sense in waiting.

And just like that—water shot out from beside your feet as you both had stumbled upon a water splash pad that operated during the summer. You both had been too wrapped up in each other to notice the water remnants on the ground or the knowing looks of those sitting along the perimeter.

Your shared screams were married together with laughter, running towards each other after the shock set in. Water all around you, shooting cannons up into the air and falling right back on top. There seemed to be no escaping, as Tom’s long arms brought you into his chest. You were absolutely drenched—but when that next canon shot right up your dress, you let out such a scream and jumped so far forward that it knocked you both flat on your asses.

Tom scrambled into a seated position to make sure you were alright—and not exposed— relaxing as the sound of your laughter drowned out the water canons. Your ponytail had been knocked sideways. His plastic mask had snapped in two. You were both a mess.

“I love you!” you called out through the chaos, a smile so wide it was a wonder you weren’t water logged.

Did he hear you right? Or had he said it out loud? No, that was definitely your voice. But, was it really?

“What did you say?” he yelled, scooting over closer. Hands came to rest on both dripping cheeks, your legs tangled together until you were nearly sitting in Tom’s lap.

“I said, I love you!” another laugh, your confession even louder than the time before. The only difference—the water fountain ended at that precise moment, causing the entire crowd to hear your admission.

There were laughs and a few claps—but all you could focus on was Tom. His eyes were serious despite how humorous his drenched self actually was at this moment. For the briefest of seconds, you began to doubt the timing of your words judging by how quiet Tom was for what seemed like eternity. Piercing blue eyes gazed right into your soul. “God help me, I have never loved someone as much as I love you,” he declared helplessly, before his lips crashed down against yours.

Your hands clung to his wet t-shirt as his hands held your face, which might as well have been his entire world. “Say it again,” he breathed, lips barely parting.

“I love you, Tom,” gasping for breath, tightening your grip on his shirt. “Say it again—,” a repeated order.

“I love you, Y/N,” hand coming up to hold the back of your damp head in place. “How strict is your city on indecent exposure, out of curiosity?”

Valid question.

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

Almost as if the heavens opened up to grant him pity, he only had to endure silence for a second longer before the clicking of the electronic key was heard. He assumed you were trying to be quiet as you entered the suite, yet the jumbling of a plastic bag and suitcase made that task rather impossible.

“Shh,” you whispered, causing Tom to chuckle at the idea that you were likely shushing yourself.

His relief brought about a new energy, bounding from the bed in just his briefs to assist you in your bags. “Let me help, love,” reaching out instinctively.

Thankful that he was already awake so you could set aside your attempts at sneaking, all feelings of solace were quickly replaced when you caught sight of him. Your audible gulp heard over the closing of the door. A smirk on Tom’s part was all the response he gave you, for he knew that once you got worked up—he would be in no better shape.

“You just go around looking like that every day,” you grumbled, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. He was yours. At any point in a regular school day, you could have any number of marker swipes, eraser shavings—all sorts of germs covering you…. And here he looked like a fucking god.

He didn’t want to acknowledge the compliment, besides a small smile. You’d figure out soon enough that there was nothing special about him. He just hoped beyond all hope that when you realized he was a real person, you weren’t disappointed. “Is this everything?” asking casually, though upon further inspection it could have been taken as a joke. One large suitcase, two medium totes, a backpack, and a plastic convenience store bag—you might as well be moving in.

“I might have forgotten a bag in the car,” you said in all seriousness, prompting a full body laugh on Tom’s part as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“I’ll have to teach you how to pack more efficiently once you have that passport of yours,” a promise, kissing your forehead softly.

“Am I going to be doing a lot of traveling?” you asked coyly, only so you could hear him say it all out loud.

And he knew what you wanted. “We’ll start with London. The most important Hiddleston still needs to meet you,” he planned, a hand moving to push back a few stray dark locks behind your ear. Your smile was unstoppable, envisioning a future trip to London. Envisioning a future with Tom.

“Wherever premieres take us, as well. I’ll need you by my side,” voice dropping down as he studied your face, wanting to memorize it all. Wanting this to last forever.

By now, your hands were splayed across his bare chest and by some miracle, you weren’t only thinking of sex. You were thinking of us and need. “Don’t forget Atlanta. If you come back to film season two of Loki down here, I’ll only be forty-five minutes away,” an airy addition as your eyes focused on drawing circles along his chest.

Had you been looking into the blue orbs you had grown so familiar with—you would have seen the flicker of conflict. Tom had not yet told you that filming was indeed occurring for Loki in Atlanta. Not only that, but it would begin in just two short weeks. Why hadn’t he told you? Well, the simple answer was fear.

He had convinced himself that it was for the best. You had been so concerned with talking on the phone for the first time, to show him yourself on a video—you deflected left and right when it came to really, truly speaking of feelings. He needed to give you time to warm-up to the idea of him being just forty-five minutes away. He told himself that he would find some time this weekend to tell you, when it felt right.

Yet, there was nothing wrong with this moment right now as you held one another, basking in pure contentment. That’s when he knew, it wasn’t your fear he was concerned with—but rather, his own. Being so close to one another in distance, allowed you time to see him as the man and not the movie star. Oh, but a man who was constantly followed by paparazzi and tabloid articles and social media scandals—

Who would ever choose him and this life?

So, he didn’t take that opportunity to tell you. He didn’t speak up. And he did the most cowardly thing he could do in that moment—he deflected. “What do you have in the bag?” curiously nudging the plastic bag and turning the conversation in a different direction.

“Oh! I stopped by the convenient store a block over,” wiggling your brows as you dropped your hands from his chest, grabbing the bag from the ground to hand over to him. Once the bag was secured in his hands, you lifted to your tiptoes. Warm kisses scattered across his neck was your not so subtle cue for him to check the contents of the bag.

Eyes dipping down, a grin replaced any sort of tension he previously held. A crisis averted. “My, you are productive, aren’t you?” pulling the box of condoms from the bag.

“Can’t go around sleeping all day, Tom dear,” whispering against his skin, already feeling the effects of his near naked body deep between your legs.

“Darling, there are other things we can do all day…,” a promise you would hold him to, until you felt the tension reappear in his frame.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s not wrong, per say.”

“Well, you haven’t bent me over that table yet—so, something is wrong,” you pointed out, following his gaze towards the box.

“These won’t fit…”

“What do you mean, they won’t fit? They’re large!”

A sheepish shrug was all the answer you received, forcing you to take a step back and eye the bulge displayed in the briefs. “No!” you gasped, looking back up at him in shock, to which he simply rolled his eyes. “Seriously?” you asked, less dramatically, but all the more serious.

“Darling…” obviously embarrassed by this conversation. In the heat of the moment, he would have been absolutely fine to discuss his size and how he knew it would make her scream. Discussing the logistics of fucking his girlfriend left a bit to be desired.

“Alright! Alright!” hands raised in defeat. “We’ll get bigger ones,” you mumbled, curiously eyeing the bulge yet again—licking your lips.

“You said you had plans!” Tom announced, taking your bags to place them on the bed while he then turned his attention to getting dressed again. If he had to watch you stare at him, he’d take you against that table. Condom or not.

“Right–right,” following along behind him (another excellent view). You dug through one of the bags, keeping your eyes down. “How about an early dinner or late lunch? Then a walk in the park?”

Sliding his jeans up, he winced at the suggestion. “It may be hard to do that, darling. You saw what it was like trying to get off the elevator.”

“O ye’ of little faith,” you retorted to which Tom laughed. “I’ve come prepared. Tons of people are in costume, we’ll just dress you up! No one is going to suspect Tom Hiddleston to go around in costume.”

“Well, I have been known to—”

But you interrupted, knowing full well that people did know it was a possibility for the man. “No one will expect—,” biting your bottom lip to stop the inevitable grin as you pulled out an Iron Man mask and t-shirt donning the same pattern as one of Tony Stark’s suits–complete with arc reactor graphics.

Tom’s mouth dropped a hair, taking in the basic pieces. Eyes narrowed as they went from the mask, to your innocent face. “Iron Man?” and you swore his voice dropped an octave.

“It had a mask?” you offered, again—completely innocent.

“Of course,” he agreed, sounding anything but agreeable.

After the initial shock wore off that you were suggesting he wear your original favorite Marvel character’s outfit, Tom could see the logic behind it all. The mask kept it possible for him to maneuver through a crowd with you by his side. It kept the secrecy until you two were ready for everyone to know who you were to each other. It also helped that you did a bit of convincing through many delicious kisses.

You two couldn’t keep your hands off of one another even in the elevator. Tom was just any other boyfriend, wanting to be close to his girlfriend. And you–well, you were taking it all in. A few selfies in the elevator, another few with an assortment of characters you ran into in the lobby—all while Tom stayed safely hidden away.

The first moment of realization, surprisingly, wasn’t on Tom’s part. Exiting the hotel, chatting about how famished the two of you were, you heard a familiar voice.

“Y/N!”

This was your worst nightmare.

“David…,” you began quietly, wanting to run away as fast as humanly possible—but that would raise alarm. You could feel Tom’s body stiffen beside you by just his presence alone. Was he standing a bit straighter? Did you imagine the small gesture of him taking one step between you and David?

Before your ex boyfriend could put two and two together, barely noticing Tom beside you, he said— “I haven’t heard from you in months. Started to worry a little.” The way he ran his hand through his graying hair, you knew it had gone past a little worried. He had every right to be, you supposed. You hadn’t returned a message of any sort since your jealousy got the best of you.

“I’m alive and well,” you wrote off with a bubbly smile, making both men raise a brow, even if you couldn’t see Tom’s. Fake it until you make it, right? “Been busy. This is–” you motioned to introduce Tom, but he beat you to it.

“Tom. The boyfriend. Pleasure to meet you,” he lied, extending his hand to shake.

For someone who wasn’t skilled in showing emotion, the shock rolling in like waves upon David’s face said everything. “David,” he offered, shaking hands in seemingly friendly union. The shake lasted just a touch longer than needed and you could have sworn you heard one of the two wince. Can you even hear a wince?

“Is the accent real?” David couldn’t help but ask, trying to make it sound as though he were joking.

“As real as that gray, I’ll wager,” Tom added with a fake charm that you could see right through, mask or not.

“How’s your day been?!” you called out to David, hoping to take over control of the dialogue for fear that the pissing contest was going to ruin your dress. “Go to any good panels?”

David rattled on about his day, as Tom couldn’t help but think over their initial encounter. He was pleased that you two hadn’t been in contact–however, your ex was worried about you. How long would it have been before that worry resulted in checking in on you? That brought another good point—what if he had been checking in on you? How long would you have gone before reaching back out to your ex? The rabbit hole only got darker and darker, until David’s words caught his attention.

“I did see that one guy you like so much. Um–what’s his name?” David asked, searching for an answer.

Well, this was a dangerous question that you felt better in just staying silent on.

“The guy that plays Loki?” your ex questioned again.

“Tom Hiddleston,” you and your current boyfriend answered in unison. And yes, you caught the smugness in Tom’s tone.

“That’s right. Decent guy, I guess.” David shrugged, not knowing what he was saying and to whom he was saying it to. Then. he turned his attention specifically to you. “I still can’t hear a Taylor Swift song without remembering that tantrum you threw about their break-up. Are you able to listen to her music yet?” he teased.

You strongly considered jumping out into the street at that moment. Bonus points if a bicyclist took you out.

And on cue— “Tantrum?” you heard Tom ask.

“Complete tantrum. Y/N would hear one of her songs on the radio and outright yell about how—,” David pause, turning to you for some help in remembering the details, all the while not realizing that you had never wanted to murder him more than in this moment. “What would you use to say?”

Both pairs of eyes were on you, covering your face with one hand. “This is why you can’t have nice things, Taylor—,” you muttered, quoting one of the artist’s songs.

“That’s right!” David laughed, directing his attention to Tom. “Remember, I was there. I literally had to listen to this woman argue with a radio over a break-up and an actor. You must have had to deal with worse if you went to the guy’s panel.”

And you didn’t have to look at the man beside you. You could feel his smugness encompassing you. At this point, you would rather have had a pissing contest.

“We need to be going, David,” your voice giving a little squeak, face as red as the Iron Man mask.

“Good to meet you, man,” nodding to Tom.

“Likewise,” keeping it short and sweet as you lead the way down the street and to a small diner.

You walked in silence, all the while you fumed over your terrible luck and Tom basked in his smugness, until he broke the silence.

“So, this is why we can’t have nice things?” a jab as he quoted the same song, snaking an arm around your waist, and leaning down to nuzzle into your neck. You wanted to smack him for poking fun at your embarrassment. You wanted to kiss him for handling your ex like a champ. You wanted to fuck him for multiple reasons.

“That’s why you had to take them aw-a-a-a-y?” lifting his mask just enough to kiss you quickly along your collarbone, making you giggle as you both walked. The angle, the mask—the absurdity of the moment—

This is why you loved the man. And you had to tell him soon.

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