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hiddlestoneddd · 11 years ago

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I Want You So Bad 2/2 (Sequel to She's So Heavy)

TITLE: I Want You So Bad CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: 2/2 AUTHOR: accordiontolaura WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: AU Tom - Professor GENRE: Angst/Romance/Erotica FIC SUMMARY: Gwen has allowed Tom to come home for the evening so that they can further hash out their problems and solutions. Is he really worth all of the trouble? RATING: M AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: Explicit language and content. Adult situations. Smut warning!

Not even ten minutes later, we were back at our home. Tom had driven to the coffee shop that day and offered to drive us both back, not forgetting to first open and close my car door for me. I smiled weakly at the gesture, but I'm sure it didn't quite reach my eyes. I was battling internally – should I do it? Shouldn't I? It was true that I loved him and that I missed him very much, but was all of this worth the trouble of letting him back in?

I looked over at the man sat next to me in the car. He fidgeted with settings, mindlessly scrolling through stations on the radio. I could tell by the way his fingers tapped unmetered rhythms on the wheel that he was as nervous as me. Good. I noticed the way his tendons moved beneath his pale skin, and the way arms rippled under the weight of the small motion. My eyes moved up to the topmost threads of his shirt, where I could see his collarbone peeking slightly. I inhaled. The man didn't have to do anything at all to make me gravitate to him like a bee to sweat on a summer day.

The natural warmth that he radiated was what beckoned me the most. He was not aggressive and I loved that about him. He had always let me come around in my own time – right from the very beginning. Even on that car ride, although I knew there were a thousand things he wanted to discuss, he politely allowed an *almost* comfortable silence to settle over us. He could have taken the captive opportunity and imposed an inquisition, but he did not. His patience and consideration were what compelled me to consider his apology seriously. I began to think on it.

Tom raised the garage door silently and slid his car in with ease. He cut the engine off and we both sat, completely still.

“Shall we go in, then?” he proposed, looking over to me before nonchalantly opening his car door. I picked up my bag and before I could attempt to, he'd opened my door for me. Fuck you, Tom. Even when it seemed that we were in our end days, he was still being a perfect gentleman. I looked up at him with a small smile and thanked him. He closed the door behind me and we continued inside.

In his absence, I'd struggled to keep my mind (and body) occupied, so I had taken to cleaning and reorganizing our entire home. I had started from the acme of our downfall – the bedroom – and thoroughly allowed myself to get sucked into my project. I'd rearranged furniture, dusted every nook, and thrown away things we didn't need in my haste to get him out of my head.

His eyes looked over our living room as we both entered together. He wiped his mouth downwardly with his hand, and I could see him inspecting it all. He was a bit of an A-type personality, and I wasn't sure whether he'd like it or not. Truth be told, I didn't much care. He had desecrated the ground that was our home together and so I took what I had and ran with it. I was not apologetic in the least.

“I like what you've done. It's marvelous, darling.” he spoke softly, sliding his ample hands in his pockets. Darling. I looked at him again in a meager attempt to read his thoughts. What I wouldn't give to read his mind. He returned my gaze, and my stomach and intestines immediately morphed into lava.

The burn that his brilliant blues cast on mine was mind-blowing. A searing ache housed itself just below my navel, and my clumsy, nervous hands allowed my purse to go clattering to the floor with a dull but generous 'thud'. The corners of his lips turned up minutely into the shape of a smirk. He had not missed the way just a look had affected me. I cursed to myself and cleared my throat.

“Thank you very much.” I said simply.

That's all I you have to say? Really? After all this time, you're going to let this coward of a man tongue-tie you?

Well, yes.

I went to speak again, and before I could, he had engulfed me in his arms. One hand on my hair and another on the small of my back, he swayed with me gently. His arms felt like home and steel bars at the same time. My heart threatened to burst where I stood. Breathing was more difficult, and tears pricked at my eyes. I looked up at him, confused.

“Let me show you.”

His words were soft and plain, but I understood the subtext. I hesitated, before nodding. Without missing a beat (in fact, I feel he may have been anticipatory), Tom ghosted his hands to my jaw and lifted my lips to his for what was maybe the most tender kiss I have experienced in all of my days. Not even our first kiss was quite so breathtaking. His lips, tongue, and jaw moved against mine with a passion that held so many unresolved feelings behind it. The pent-up frustration was absolutely solid between the two of us, making me need him all the more.

His hands tightened on my jaw before moving into my hair and down to my waist. With each respective touch, a bolt of electricity caused my heart to go haywire. Emotions were swirling around in my head and chest as he assaulted my lips with his, his tongue delving into the depths of my mouth. He deepened the kiss as he shuffled me back to the door, shoving me against it (more roughly than intended, but I wasn't going to complain).

I had forgotten just how much the man could ensnare my attentions with one stroke of his hand. Gooseflesh erupted all over me sporadically and I shivered under even the meekest of his touches. He smirked against my mouth and bit my bottom lip abrasively. Fireworks shot heavy beneath my eyelids and I moaned into him, losing my senses. My hips struggled to gain ground closer to him than I already was, and he managed to squeeze me tighter to the door in response. My body was begging for friction that only he could provide, and he was taking an agonizingly long time to do so.

As if he could read my thoughts, he laughed. A deep rumble in his chest that only encouraged me to want more, more. Moving his mouth away from mine, he layered butterfly kisses down my jawline before absolutely ravaging my neck. Scarves for the next week, it would be.

“Oh my lord, Tom...” I sighed, the pressure of his teeth against one of the most sensitive spots on my neck. He nipped and licked lightly at the delicate skin before sinking his teeth barbarically into my collarbone.

I moaned loudly enough to surprise myself. Tom's only response was to move his hands to my ass and squeeze achingly firmly. It was true that our emotional relationship was wonderful and completely fulfilling, but our sex life was an entity all its own. Our physical chemistry left absolutely nothing to be desired from the other.

“Tell me how much you've missed it.” he requested gruffly, his breathing hitched and shallow. My knees turned to jelly as his teeth nipped lightly at the lobe of my ear. His tongue traced small lines from the top of my ear to the bottom, and his hot breath spilled over my neck superfluously. I sighed deeply and he groaned, instinctively bucking his hips into mine. I could feel the scruff of his face against my flushed skin, which was white hot with electricity for him.

“What exactly have I missed, then?” I answered cheekily, holding the back of his head and lightly tugging his hair as he kissed down my chest, pulling my shirt with ease. Within moments, he had the navy piece of fabric off of my body and I was left in a simple lace bralet and my pants. He clicked his tongue at me, surveying the situation as well as my attitude.

“First, these have got to go...” he mumbled into my skin, getting on his knees in front of me and pulling my leggings down, careful to brush kisses across my lower body. On my hips and then to my thighs. The innermost part of my knee and to the crook of my ankle. As he tossed my leggings and underwear into one of the chairs in the room, he made a point to run one of his nimble hands over my most sensitive spot, causing me to moan in frustration. I could feel how slick I was against his long digits. He looked up at me, hesitant.

“Now, if I may remind you of what you've been missing...?” he asked cautiously. I blushed. Even though I had practically all of my clothes off and was very obviously soaking wet, he still asked for permission to touch me more intimately. I swooned inwardly.

“Please, Tom.” I breathed, moving my hips toward his hand that was very idly circling my clit. A wicked grin spread across his face as he took his hands and pulled my legs more readily apart.

“Darling, won't you throw your thighs over my shoulders and lean back against the wall?” he asked as if nothing were wrong with the sentence. As if it were as simple as, 'could you please pass me the cornbread?' I moaned at even the suggestion and the embers in my stomach burned a little brighter. He gingerly placed both of my legs over his shoulders and pushed me back against the wall, his face absolutely level with my wetness. He licked playfully at first, before taking my nub in his mouth and sucking gently.

I moaned and bucked my hips toward his face – I had been waiting to feel his skin against mine for two weeks. Two weeks I had had to walk around the house and remember all of the times he'd fucked me on the kitchen table, or made love to me over his desk in the study.

I involuntarily squeezed my thighs around his face and he began to suck a little harder, using his tongue to form circles around the sensitive button of flesh. He brought a hand up and began running his fingers over my wetness before inserting two digits in very suddenly. I yelped in pleasure and squeezed his face tighter on accident. I slackened my death grip on his jaw and tangled my hands in his hair so that he knew I was very much enjoying what he was doing.

I could feel the heat pooling in my stomach much like warm sassafras. He was very tenderly touching and grazing every inch of my body that he could reach, worshiping me in a very grandiose way. All I could do was go along for the ride.

“Tom, please, please – I need you. Let me undress you.” I pleaded, finding my voice. His eyes met mine and he pulled away from my heat, licking his lips. I thought I might fall dead, if we're being quite frank.

He replaced my legs on the ground and quickly drew himself to full height – a very substantial 5 inches above me. I smiled at him shyly, before tugging at the hem of his sweater and lifting. He put his arms up so I could easily pull the fabric over his head. I discarded the garment, but before I could go for his pants, he stopped me. Taking my hands, he placed a small kiss on my forehead, and one on each cheek.

“Gwen, I love you. I love you so very much, from the bottom of my soul. I am so sorry for what I've done to you.” he spoke against my hair, and I nuzzled my head into his neck. In lieu of responding, I allowed my hands to wander down his chest and to his belt buckle, which I undid easily out of habit. A soft groan was earned by this effort, and so I was encouraged.

My hands unzipped the fly of his jeans and unbuttoned the snap at the top before I slid gracefully from his embrace and pulled off his jeans. He was left only in his boxer-briefs, which I then discarded. Standing back up to him, I allowed one hand to grasp his neck and pull him into a kiss before I placed the other on his member, which was absolutely rock-hard. I moaned in sheer appreciation and squeezed his cock, eliciting an animalistic whimper from his lips. He was already slick from his own precum, so working him up did not prove to be difficult.

I massaged the length of him roughly, and he bucked his hips involuntarily into my hand. Our tongues danced lithely with the other's and I smiled into the kiss, reveling in the sensations that I had been missing the past weeks without him. A gruff moan escaped his taut lips and I decided that enough was enough.

“I need you inside of me, Tom.” I whimpered into his kiss, and pushed myself as close to him as humanly possible. I wanted to melt inside of him; to become a part of him so integral and primal that it made me incomparable in his eyes. I craved the constant company of him and the devotion of his innermost wants. I wanted him so bad in that moment, and he was more than happy to oblige me.

His brown hair sticking slightly to his dewy forehead, Tom looked at me with passion and urgency. His eyebrows were knitted up in pleasure and his mouth was half hung open from the same. I kissed him fiercely before he lifted my leg, positioned himself at my entrance and traced the length of it excruciatingly slowly. Tom proceeded to slowly slide himself inside of my body, inch by divine inch. We both emitted guttural moans of alarming ecstasy as we experienced each other for what seemed like the first time in forever.

He stayed buried inside of me for an extended moment, catching his breath and recollecting. He left small kisses all over my face and the top of my head – on my ears and my shoulders. An intense look into my eyes was all it took to convince me to throw all of my caution away. I could read in his gaze that this was much more for him than just hate sex or make-up sex. He was attempting to show just how devoted he was to fulfilling my every whim and need. It was an effort to illustrate that he wanted to make me happy, despite his previous misgivings.

I pulled him to me and embraced him tightly as he began to pump in and out of me, his pace excruciatingly slow. I felt all of the ridges along his back and sides where his muscles and bones came together to form canyons and sharp peaks. My fingers sifted through his dampened hair, the wiry texture so familiar, but so invigorating. I ghosted along the muscular firmaments of his ass, my nails digging deeply into the dimples he was secretly so very proud of.

“Harder, Tom, please..” I begged, uninhibited at that point. I was already so embarrassingly wet with anticipation that he slid in and out with such ease it was criminal. I could tell that he was keeping himself censored in an endeavor to prevent me from thinking he was simply trying to fuck my brains out. I appreciated it, but I somewhat longed for the string of curses and dirty talk that normally accompanied our carnal activities. I put a hand on the back of his head and tugged his hair lightly, encouraging him. He inhaled sharply, hissing almost.

“Oh, shit, Gwen.” he murmured into my neck, his chest rumbling against mine. My coaxing had brought him out of his shell a little, made him more comfortable. He kissed and bit my shoulder as he bucked in and out of me, my hips rising to meet his in a dance of promiscuous proportions. After a moment, he ran his hands down to my waist and dug his fingertips in, driving me positively wild with want.

“Do you like it rough, beautiful girl?” he purred into my ear as he fucked me with generous fervor. This was the passion that I knew and loved. I nodded and moved my hands to his jaw before meeting his lips with mine. Our tongues battled haphazardly, darting back and forth before tangling together unceremoniously. He moaned into my mouth as he picked up speed with his hips, brushing against the spot inside of me that made me want to scream. My legs buckled and he slid his ample hands beneath my ass to keep me supported. Ever the gentleman, Tom.

He took advantage of the situation to scoop me up and walk me over to the couch, all the while staying inside of me. My hand scrambled for a grip on his shoulders, even though I knew I was in capable hands. His kisses lightened as he laid me down and steadied himself over me. His brilliant blue eyes bore into mine as hot, heavy breathing filled the room.

“I'm going to put your gorgeous leg over the back of the couch now, and fuck you so well that my name will be emblazoned on your tongue for a lifetime.”

I shivered beneath him, my hands running idly over his biceps. He brought his length out of me and pushed it back in erratically, panting and dripping sweat. I arched my back into him, the feeling of him filling me up very quickly driving me closer and closer to orgasm. I pushed my hips toward his, needing to feel the fire in his veins that burned for me.

“Oh, Tom.. Please don't stop. Fuck..” I breathed hotly, and I heard his air hitch. I could feel his dick pulsing within me and I knew that he wouldn't last much longer, so I pulled him close to me and kissed him deeply. He took the arm that was supporting him on the back of the couch and put it between us, massaging my clit slowly and bounteously.

“Come for me, darling... please, love.” he begged, his voice as low and dark as I had heard it in a long time. He groaned against me and drove his cock as hard and fast as he could possibly go while rubbing me simultaneously. The heat in my abdomen washed over my body and I convulsed hard, moaning his name and a very colorful array of curses.

“Fucking shit, Gwen, I'm gonna –“ he hissed, his mouth hung open in pleasure. I could feel him come undone inside of me – one of the things that I secretly loved. He knew that and exploited it, naturally. We came nearly together, and came down together, him collapsing beside me on the couch and pulling me to him almost immediately.

The sheen of sweat that covered his body made me shiver, and he nuzzled me from behind to try to keep me warm. His chest against my back felt like heaven.

“Gwen?” he asked, after a very long lull in activity. Quite honestly, I had assumed him asleep.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

I paused, considering. It wouldn't be a lie to reciprocate, but I was uncertain. I was not yet entirely sold on the idea of us being together and resuming our relationship as normal. Still, it was not a lie that I loved him. The man had waited diligently and treated me with exemplary patience. I was sure that, faced with the choice between losing me and waiting forever, he would choose the latter. I thought to myself that maybe people do make mistakes, but they can be worth forgiving. If that were true, he had proven himself one of those people. Although communicating and much counsel was in our future, I was sure that I would rather spend my time fixing what the relationship I had with him than attempting to move on with someone lesser.

“I love you, Tom.”

I hope everyone enjoyed it! Please review or like or reblog or something little :) I'm sure this isn't the last you'll see of Gwen and Tom.

#smut #fiction #fanfiction #tom hiddleston #au #i want you so bad #she's so heavy #accordiontolaura #archive #infidelity

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hiddlestoneddd · 11 years ago

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I Want You So Bad 1/2

TITLE: I Want You So Bad (sequel to She's So Heavy) CHAPTER NUMBER/ONE SHOT: 1/2 AUTHOR: accordiontolaura WHICH TOM/CHARACTER: AU Tom - Professor GENRE: Angst/Romance FIC SUMMARY: Follow-up to previous one-shot entitled "She's So Heavy". I Want You So Bad centers around the lives of Professor Thomas Hiddleston and Gwendolyn Parker. Tom's infidelity has caused a great chasm between the two lovers. Can Gwen forgive Tom for his misdoings? Will she hear him out, or will she simply walk away? RATING: M AUTHORS NOTES/WARNINGS: Explicit language, adult themes, and sexual situations.

… and time he gave me.

It had been two weeks since I'd spoken to him – two weeks since I'd seen his face, touched his hands or dared to think about any part of his body. So much space between the two of us I feared I might implode.

On the fifth day, he sent a very eloquent e-mail to me explaining that he was staying in his office (oh, great!) and that he was so, very sorry. He asked that I please contact him when I was ready and that he was in no rush to move me to a decision. He signed the script with a simple, “Love, Thomas. X” and that was all. I had chosen not to respond, because I simply wasn't ready to speak to him. Just the thought of him turned my stomach into a tangle of hot nets and fishhooks.

On the week mark, he sent another e-mail, notifying me that he had paid our utility bills ahead of time so that I needn't worry about them.

Two weeks – this morning, a Saturday, I woke up to an e-mail sent at 3:53.

“Gwendolyn Elisabeth,

I know that I have hurt you beyond belief and that I have irreparably burdened your heart. But you must know the extent to which I feel regret. I can't eat or sleep for knowing how much I've hurt you. I can't stand it. I know that it's my own doing – I am well aware of the fact. I ask that you please give me a chance to see you. Let me try to explain my terrible choices."

(I sighed. One of the things I loved most about him was the fact that he was an incomparable writer. He had a way of making words caress your skin and letters kiss your nose as he composed them. I shivered.)

"I'll be at Le Fontaine this evening at 5pm. The invitation is open for you to join me – if you don't, it's not going to change how I feel on the matter. I have no intentions of pushing you to a point of discomfort. Just know that the offer stands, and I will be there.”

I scrolled further to see that he had attached a small quote to his signature.

“John Steinbeck wrote a letter addressed to his son once – a letter about love. He had this to say on the matter: '[…] don’t worry about losing. If it is right, it happens — The main thing is not to hurry. Nothing good gets away.'

Hope to see you this evening.

Love. X”

I exited out of my e-mail and shut my laptop abruptly. I brought my hands up and massaged my temples furiously, attempting to correct some of the headache he had just laid on me. 5PM? I looked at the clock. It was nearing 1PM. Anger threatened to flair in my chest, but I repressed it. Did he just EXPECT me to be free at his first convenience? Where did he get off, putting himself out there like that?

I leaned back in the chair, groaning. What the fuck? I got up and paced around our room momentarily. The fluffy cream rug between my toes only served as a reminder of Tom and the impressive remodeling job we'd done on this apartment – together. I felt sick to my stomach and realized that I missed him greatly. I missed the way he knew precisely how I took my tea at brunch and how he always read a handful of poems to me before sleep, as we discussed our days together.

The pinpricks of pain returned when I remembered very soberly how he had thrice been unfaithful to me. Exasperated, I ran a hand through my mess of unruly brown curls. Did I want to see him, or didn't I? The moment I was sure I had decided on one, the other reared its ugly head and kept fighting for my attention. I remedied this as best I could with an extremely hot shower... just in case I did opt to go see him.

Once I had begun showering, I very carefully weighed the options in my head and determined that I should go and see him. I should at least hear what he has to say before I shut him out completely – IF I decided that's what I wanted to do, after all. The angry pool in my stomach turned into more of a nervous knot.

I got out of the shower and readied myself hurriedly. I chose to put effort into looking like I hadn't put in any effort, which may have been ludicrous, but the principle of the matter was important to me. My final ensemble was comfortable – a flowy navy top with a nice pair of leggings that I finished with a pair of dark brown oxfords. I milled about and cleaned obsessively until the clock read 4:30, and it was then that I chose to leave for the small coffee shop in the middle of the city.

I walked lazily toward my destination, the crisp air licking my face playfully. Our home was on the outskirts of town, and although it was a good 15-minute-walk to the shop, it was a nice chance for some exercise. Leaves swirled around and I noticed that it was quickly approaching autumn, my favorite season. I thought about the previous year and how Tom and I had taken a jog on this very route before getting caught in a major downpour. We were both sick for weeks. I smiled nostalgically and put my hands in my pockets. We had spent so much time cuddled up together watching our favorite movies and talking for hours.

The breeze made it a little chilly, and I found myself wishing that I had brought a light jacket. It dawned upon me that I was almost there, and my stomach did a very noticeable backflip. I could see the street ahead where the shop was located. My pulse quickened and I bit my lip involuntarily. Was this the right thing to do? I very seriously debated turning around.

I slowed my pace as I approached the small coffee vendor, so as not to seem too eager. Clearing my throat, I swung the door open, immediately cursing the small, friendly tinkling of bells that indicated a customer had arrived. Because it was a small shop, there weren't many people there.

I could see a couple that were closer to me, sitting sickeningly close to each other. I groaned inwardly out of disgust. A younger girl was seated further back, and just behind her – in the corner furthest away – sat Tom. He had obviously taken notice of the tinkling and was already getting to his feet as I walked warily towards him. I talked myself out of a last ditch urge to run for the hills and breathed deeply, preparing for what was to come.

My heart sped up and beat against the cage of my ribs like a war drum when I first saw him. He was wearing a pair of dark wash jeans that clung just perfectly to him, and had put them with a gorgeous azure sweater that was both just tight enough and just loose enough, remarkably. His hair was in a quasi-faux hawk, as usual, but he'd put gel in it for this particular occasion. I smirked at the thought that he had gone to extra lengths for me, but quickly scolded myself. As I approached the table, he pulled a chair out for me and wiped his hands on his pants. He motioned for me to take the seat and I nodded, avoiding his gaze.

I could have seen his face fall from a mile away, I'm sure.

I placed my bag in the floor beside my chair and put my hands gingerly on the table. He settled himself in the chair across from me and looked me over. Once, twice, three times.

“Forgive me for my use of a grotesquely cliché expression, but you are a sight for sore eyes.” He broke the silence after a moment, to both my great relief and my great chagrin. The ease with which he complimented me transfigured my heart into a million birds. The words that spilled from his lips were like that of honey, oozing and warm. I drank in the sound of his voice as if it were the most decadent liquid in the world. Upon the realization that I had in fact allowed myself to be encompassed by his scent and self, I struggled to regain ground.

“It's nice to see you too, Thomas.” I replied to him, my voice not quite cool, but something resembling it. If I couldn't sell it to myself that I was angry and unforgiving, I had to sell it to him, at least. I had only called him Thomas a handful of times during the three years we had been together, and those times had not been good ones.

He pushed a cup in my general direction and my heart coiled up in its shell. He had ordered my favorite tea for me, just as I liked it. I wanted to take the hot beverage and throw it out. Protest that it simply wasn't satisfactory and that he had gotten it all wrong. I took a sip, the hot liquid just a tad too warm for my cool lips. Regardless, the drink was perfect, as anticipated. I was disappointed that I didn't have any kind of ammo to throw in his face, and also a little ashamed that I wanted ammo to throw in his face at all.

He cleared his throat. “I suppose I should get to it, then?”

I nodded, more for my benefit than for his. I needed to know what on earth could make him think that what he did was even remotely a good idea. He licked his lips and ran his hand down his mouth before taking a sip of his (presumably) vanilla bean soy latte.

“First, and foremost,” he started, making sure that he established alarmingly direct eye contact with me, “I want to tell you in person how deeply sorry I am. I have done something stupid and irreversible, and I have hurt you, most importantly. For that I apologize profusely. I know that you don't deserve any of what I did.” He breathed deeply, wiping his hands on his pants again. He was nervous – more nervous than I had seen him in our time together. Tom looked at me for a moment and leaned forward slightly to grab one of my hands. Skittishly, I pulled it away from him and regretted the decision almost immediately. Disappointment inundated his handsome features. He ran a slender hand down the back of his neck and back up absentmindedly, and then through his tufted hair. I shifted in my seat and bit my lip. Did he have to pick this day in particular to look extraordinarily good?

Blue eyes begged for my attention, and they had every ounce of it. I was more keenly aware of him than I had been in a very long time. His slender legs in fitted jeans, his taut forearms underneath the material of that blue sweater.. I fanned myself lightly, despite the fact that it wasn't warm at all in the room. Returning my gaze to his face, I urged him to speak further with my eyes.

“I told you that it happened three times, and that was not a lie. The girl--”

“Alaina,” I whipped and corrected him unintentionally quickly, a slap to the face. It registered on his features and he fell quiet momentarily. I shuddered as I remembered just how I had learned her name. If he was angered at all by my antics, he did not show it. In lieu of acknowledging the comment, he continued.

“She was a pupil of mine last semester. She fell short in her Elizabethan Literature course and sought private tutoring because of it. It was all strictly business until about a month ago. I'd spent much too much time at the university and not enough time at home, where I should have been.. I've had an unbearable workload this semester, as you know,” he nodded in my direction and I returned it – he had been assigned more hours than anyone should have to teach in the absence of one of the other professors. She had gone on maternity leave and asked Tom as a favor at the last minute to cover half of her workload. He had done so quite willingly, but he knew it was going to be rough. We'd both discussed it at length before he'd accepted her proposal. Still, I sat, aggravated. There was no reason that he should feel justified in what he did. I attempted to keep my cool and behave like an adult.

“But, that is no excuse for my behavior. I allowed my own frustrations to get in the way of our relationship and of my commitment to you. I don't know what to say or do to possibly sway your mind, but I assure you I would do anything for even a whisper of a chance to return to your good graces.” He was speaking directly to my heart. His voice broke slightly here and there, a sign to me that he was having a rough time delivering his explanation. Of course he was emotional. There was no doubt at all that he loved me. Yes – he loved me very much. The fact was that he made a very selfish move, and I didn't know if I could forgive him for betraying my trust.

I adjusted my top, which, in neglect, had fallen quite low in the front and on my shoulders. A blush crept to my face as I looked back up. Tom bit his lip in a way for which I was not prepared, and I shifted in my seat, suddenly more uncomfortable. It was the first time in the meeting that I had noticed the almost tangible sexual tension that we presented when around each other. I watched his eyes trace from my breasts to my neck, and from my lips to my eyes.

Naturally, it made sense. We had been together for three years, which meant that we had also had regular sex for three years. The past two weeks had been something completely different, and I knew he had to be feeling it as much as I was, even if I hated to admit it to myself. What was wrong with me? He cheated on me, and I was thinking of having sex with him. It made no sense.

He cleared his throat once more. “I will give you whatever you need, if you will just say that you'll stay with me. If you say that you will consider spending some time together to see if you can forgive me, I will do anything you please. I made a grievous error. I love you and I have not shown that to you properly.”

I noticed that his voice sounded lower to me, suddenly. The smooth baritone had been affected with a slightly less tame quality. His nervousness had worn off a little, that was true. Maybe I hadn't heard his voice in so long, I'd nearly forgotten it. I searched his eyes timidly. Those cerulean gems could get me in no time, in any situation. It was as if he was reaching into the very fiber of my soul and pulling out the parts of me that were most vulnerable for his intense examination.

His sincerity was so honest and so unabashed, I couldn't have doubted it for a second. I knew that he was putting what he had on the line. He had given me time and space and only contacted me three times. I know that the separation must have been difficult for him as well. I sighed and crossed my arms over my chest, deliberating. I let my vision fall to the strong curve of his jaw and the protrusion that was his Adam's apple. How the sweater fit snugly to his shoulders and was perfectly pushed up his arms so that I could see the veins near his wrists. Those veins which then gave root to long, dextrous fingers.

I swallowed hard and relaxed back into my chair.

“Would you like to come back home for the evening, at least?” I posed a question so bold that it could only be received as either distasteful or as audacious, with no in-between. Tom's eyes grew slightly as he followed my train of thought. He looked down and considered momentarily, although I'm sure he didn't have to do very much considering.

“I would like to see you, but I prefer it be in the comfort of my home, where I don't feel the need to be so formal.” I reneged my previous statement, not wanting to come off as that forwardly flirtatious. I was blushing furiously at this point. I cleared my throat and adjusted my blouse further, which did not go unnoticed by Tom. His eyes flitted from the thin fabric of the shirt and to my lips before finally resting on my eyes.

“That sounds like it would be very beneficial for both of us.” he agreed diplomatically, although I was sure I heard a tinge of untethered excitement threatening to reveal itself.

Where had all of my feminine resolve gone?

#gwen parker #tom hiddleston #fanfiction #original fiction #original fictional character #writing #i want you so bad #she's so heavy

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