Tom Hiddleston Oneshots

Midnight

Tom P.O.V

I woke to (Y/N) slipping from my arms slowly, trying not to disturb me, and subtly kicking free of the sheets and duvet. The bedroom was still dark with only enough ambient light from the streetlamps outside, casting long shadows, but giving everything an outline. My girl sat up on her side of the bed, and gracefully swung her legs off the edge of the mattress. Moaning softly with her absence, I reached for her, my hand caressing down the ridge of her spine, her smooth skin responding with goosebumps. Whispering into the darkness, I asked, "(Y/N)?"

Swiveling and leaning back over me, she kissed my lips sweetly and patted my chest with her hand. "I'm alright, Tom, just can't sleep. Go back to sleep, babe. I'll go watch telly or something." She got to her feet, draped her favorite pink duvet from the trunk at the foot of the bed over her body, and padded out of the bedroom as quietly as possible.

I listened to (Y/N) turn on the telly in the living room, quickly adjusting the volume down to keep from disturbing me. She stretched out on the sofa, adjusting the pillows to one side, presumably to rest her head against. After a few minutes, she settled and felt comfortable leaving her to her own. The living room was a safe haven for her, but she wasn't allowed in the kitchen, since she'd been known to cause injury to herself and nearly all the appliances. I also wanted to make sure she wasn't ill or unwell. I glanced at the digital read out, noting the time as just gone midnight, before rolling over and drifting back off into slumber.

I didn't sleep for long; I missed having (Y/N) in my arms. I'd grown accustomed to having her there beside me, her soft breathing, with a little rumble in the back of her throat, her peach smell in my nose and the incredible sense of serenity with her there. When I was away from home, I always found it difficult to sleep through the night without her there. After a year and a half, she was a part of me and I had started to bring her along if I could and her schedule allowed when I went out of town.

With the digital readout on the clock reading as 1:24am, I decided to go out and check on her. (Y/N), in her occasional bouts of insomnia, was known to relocate to the sofa and fall asleep there. Finding my blue duvet from the trunk, I wrapped it around my birthday suit before venturing out to the living room.

I smirked at the repeat of a random episode of Top Gear displayed on large television screen and (Y/N) was still wide awake. "You left me in bed alone for a date with your telly boyfriend," I said with mock hurt. She loved playing the Richard Hammond was having an affair with her whenever Top Gear was on. It was harmless as (Y/N) had never met the Hamster, she only carried a little crush for him, although she swore it was the other way around.

She grinned sheepishly, "He's been very persistent this week. I think he missed me while we were in America."

I nodded, "I see." She got up from her spot on the sofa, and allowed me to sit so she could sprawl out over my lap, reclaiming her spot. She laid across my legs kicked up to rest on the coffee table, her head upon the pillows, and her back upon my thighs. Instantly I was reminded of our history together, she used to do this when we were merely friends with benefits. I looked down into her beloved face to find her smiling up at me. I asked, "So, has he, your telly boyfriend, stolen you away from me yet?"

I caressed the strands of her hair, fanned out over the pillows, followed by my familiar sign of affection. She took hold of my hand and landed a kiss against the fingertips for repeating it. "He tries, but he could never, in a million years. Just don't tell him that. I like the attention."

I ran my hand down her cheek softly, "Your secret is safe with me, love, but just so we're clear, he can't have you. I'm not completely comfortable with this man trying to steal my girl." I looked up at the telly to see the subject of our conversation taking a test run in a new car. I nodded at him with contempt, "Does he know about me?"

"Of course, that's why he tries so hard."

"What's the appeal with Hammond, (Y/N)? I don't understand the attraction."

Outraged, her eyes widened, and she said incredulously, "You don't have an Aston Martin or that spiffy yellow car there." She pointed at the telly, indicating the car the Hamster was racing with, his information commentary running long. "Or a weekly television show," she slipped in under her breath.

"Minx!" Despite her jab, I felt my face melt into a warm and tender doting expression. I adored this woman, all her quirks, all her flaws, all her strengths, every inch of her. I brushed my thumb over her full pink lips, wanting to touch her sweetness, what made her mine.

We ended up falling asleep on the sofa. With a Top Gear episode murmured in the background, (Y/N) shifted closer to me. I put my hand on top of her, planted a goodnight kiss on her temple and slowly drifting to sleep with my girl.