Tom Hiddleston Imagines/One shots

Breakfast

Bacon.

You can smell bacon.

You open your eyes slowly, and as they adjust to the light, you realise the sheets next you are empty. You sit up and look around the bedroom. You're alone.

You clamber out of bed and pull on a check shirt that was lying on the floor from the previous night. You're too tired to see that it isn't yours.

You make your way downstairs, and follow the welcoming smell to the kitchen.

Tom is turned away from you, meaning you cannot loose yourself in those beautiful eyes. His back is bare, and you watch his shoulder blades move carefully.

"Morning darling." He hums, his voice like melted chocolate, trickling gently down your throat and warming your chest. "Sleep okay?"

You nod, but then you remember he can't see you, so you reply with soft mumble, which he recognises as a yes.

He turns, holding two plates - both with scrambled egg, hash browns, beans, toast, bacon and a sausage.

He places the plates on the kitchen table, then walks over to you, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist.

He laughs.

"I think you'll find that's my shirt..."

"Well I like wearing it. And you really don't need to put a shirt on..." You trail off as your eyes linger over his bare chest.

Your hands find your way to the back off his neck, and you pull his head down to yours, your lips crashing together. He gently pushes you backwards, against the wall, and he kisses you harder. His tongue asks entrance and you accept - of course. His hands are now on your hips, pulling them towards him, and your hands grip at his hair.

He pulls away and looks straight into your eyes.

"Breakfast." He whispers.