Random One Shots

Random one shots with actors, musicians/bands and characters.


142. Tom Hiddleston 10

~There was a damn good reason you stayed out of the attic at your mom’s house. That woman didn’t know how to throw things away, especially old pictures. There was an entire wall lined with shelves of photo albums. She called it “cherishing memories”; you called it an entire room of awful déjà vu. But in order to help her prepare for Thanksgiving, you unfortunately had to go up there. That’s how you found yourself in this mess of tears, laughs, anger, the whole nine.
You’d gotten distracted by the spine of one of the books. It was the only one without a label for its contents. That was incredibly unusual for your mother. She had to know what exactly was in which album. Never in your life had she left one without a label. That caught your attention, filling you with the worst kind of curiosity. So you grabbed it.
The picture in the first sleeve was an unbelievably old picture from a school dance. You were wearing a long blue dress that, looking back now, you realized was a horrendous choice. But you picked it for a reason. You recalled wanting to wear it because it matched your date’s eyes perfectly.
“Oh my god, you look incredible!” Your date, Tom, had a certain enthusiasm about him. His cerulean eyes were glued to your dress, with his arms splayed out in front of him.
“Thank you.” Your response was a bit shy, and a blush manifested itself on the apples of you cheeks. Sure, you’d been friends with Tom for several years, but you never though in a million years that he’d have asked you, of all people, to be his date for the dance. In fact, the day it was announced, he asked you. You’d never forget the look on his face when you hesitated. He looked so downtrodden and disappointed, but that all changed when you said yes.
“Look, I’ve never done this before, so I’m probably going to muck it up, but do you- maybe- want to be my… Girlfriend?” His voice was almost as shaky as his hands. He had a nervous grin on his lips and a pink glow on his face.
“Of course, Tom,” you answered almost immediately. He took your hand into his clammy one and led you inside.
You smiled, running your finger across the corner of the page. The picture itself was nearly twenty years old, but you still remembered the moment it was taken like it was yesterday. You flipped the page to see what else was inside and were greeted with another pair of pictures. The one on the left was of you and Tom just after graduation.
Tom yanked you into his arms as gracelessly as possible. You staggered a bit, and your forehead collided with his bony sternum. Regardless, he picked you up and spun you around, his graduation gown puffing out behind him.
“Can you believe this?” he muttered, kissing your forehead. He returned you to your feet and that magnificent grin of his made a home on his mouth. “Can you believe this is finally over? We made it, love.”
You laughed a little and rubbed the knot beginning to form. His eyes went wide with realization, and he leaned down to give it a small peck.
“Sorry, darling. Guess I got a bit too excited.” He chuckled effortlessly as soon as he saw you crack a smile. Tom kept his arms wound around you and leaned just a little further down and give you a quick kiss on your lips. As soon as contact was made, there was a flash just out the corner of your eye. You pulled back to see your mother and his, both with their cameras in hand.
“Oh, Linda, look at our babies,” Diana cooed, looking at you mother.
You’d ended up with a huge bump on your head after that. It was red for a bit, then began to turn purple. There were pictures of you with that knot in various other albums, considering how long it was there.
On the page on right, there was a picture from your older sister’s first wedding. You were 23 at the time, and you had been dating Tom for just about eight years.
“I swear, if I had a ring and a pair, we’d get married right now,” Tom muttered, squeezing you hand. He knew this was the last place you wanted to be, considering he was off to film the following morning. You gave him a kind, forced smile.
“Tom, you know as well as I do that wouldn’t be wise. You’ve got a career to focus on,” you sighed, patting the back of his hand.
“So you think that means I don’t want to marry you?” His tone screamed disappointment, but his face was unreadable. You shook your head, turning in your seat to face him.
“That’s not what I mean at all. I-“
“Then say what you mean. Don’t give me all this cryptic nonsense,” he snapped. You raised your eyebrows. Sure, you’d had your spats and lovers quarrels, but he’d never spoken to you like that. You pulled your hand out from under his and shoved your chair back. He kept his eyes trained straight forward while you stormed off.
It took him almost an hour to finally seek you out, and when he finally did, he allowed his long legs to fold underneath him. He sat on the floor beside you, but you refused to look at him. Apparently feeling rather bold, he put his arm around you and kissed your temple.
“I’m sorry I snapped, love. Really, I am. I should’ve let you explain. Can you ever forgive me?” You nodded, but still didn’t look at him. He thumbed your chin, forcing you to make eye contact.
“I love you, darling, and I do want to marry you. We just have to wait until the right time.”
That picture set your stomach on edge. The right time… Yeah, like that ever came. Every time you brought it up, he’d tell you it wasn’t the right time yet. After seventeen years, four apartments, a house, a child, and countless media attacks, one would think that it’d finally be the right fucking time.
You flipped through a few more pages and they were all photos of you and Tom. Pictures from the hospital when your son was born, birthdays, dates, premiers, on set pictures, weddings of other friends and family, and yet there was never a ring on your finger. You were definitely bitter, to put it mildly.
Finally, you slammed the album shut and shoved it back on the shelf. You grabbed the bags that your mother had sent you up after and jogged back down the stairs.
Your five year old son, James, was settled at the table. Your mother sat next to him, trying to keep him entertained. She looked up when you walked in and tossed the bag on the table.
“So, I found your album. You know, the unmarked one?” She looked down, probably hoping you’d never see it.
“It was meant to be a wedding present, dear. I-“
“Well, we didn’t get married, did we?” you quipped with an inward snort. “James, go grab your things, honey. Your father will be here soon.” James chirped in excitement and took off down the hall. He hadn’t seen Tom in over six months, due to his filming schedule.
“Sweetheart, I know you’re upset, but there’s no reason to get angry with me. I just never got around to tossing it out.” You sighed, putting a hand on her shoulder.
“I know. I’m sorry. I just thought he was the one. Silly, isn’t it?” She shook her head.
“Not at all. We all thought he was the one for you.” Before she could continue much further, the doorbell rang.
You looked at your mother, silently begging her to answer it. She understood. You hadn’t seen Tom since the break-up, just over a year ago. Prior to his departure, your mother always took James to Tom’s house and Tom would bring him back when you were at work. It was an unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t have to see him. But Tom’s first day home happened to fall on your holiday with James, and he’d insisted that he couldn’t wait another day to see his son.
“James, hun, let’s go,” you said softly, scooping him up. He had his backpack over his shoulders and a smile identical to Tom’s. You situated him on your hip, asking if he was going to be good for his dad. James responded with a forceful nod, then began rambling about how excited he was to see his aunts and his cousins. When you went to set him down, he refused and clung to your neck, saying he didn’t want to get down.
“Well, do you want to go?” you asked firmly. Again, he nodded. “Then you’re gonna have to get down.”
Being the ever-so-stubborn Hiddleston boy he was, he refused to relent.
“Take me to my Daddy!” he demanded. You had learned over the years to pick and choose your battles, and this was one you wouldn’t win. There was a groan and a sigh involved, but you looked at the little boy in your arms. Obviously, Tom had taught him the puppy dog eyes, because he always made them when he wasn’t about to get his way. Kind of like now.
“Fine. Does Mommy look okay?” He nodded like a bobble head, and you headed towards the door. As soon as James could see Tom, he started wiggling and squirming, trying to get out of your arms. You snorted and set him down. His little legs carried him across the entry way floor faster than you expected. He leapt into Tom’s arms, and the two immediately launched into an exchange of who missed who more.
But Tom paused when he looked up at you. Your arms crossed over your chest and your face became stone.
“James, will you please go see if Aunt Amanda needs any help? I need to speak with Mommy for a minute.” James gave you a look of dismay, but set off with your mother to find your sister. Tom stepped inside and closed the door behind him.
“How have you-“
“Cut the shit, Tom. What do you want?” He appeared to be considerably taken aback by your tone, but there was no room for you to care. The last thing you needed was your resolve crumbling.
“I… Wow…” He stopped, mouth open, like he was trying to find the right words. “Can we please just be civil? For James?”
“You’re asking me for civility? Oh, that’s rich! After everything you’ve fucking done to me, Hiddleston. I wasted more than half my life on you. If it weren’t for my son-“
“Our son,” he interjected taking a few steps towards you. You took a big step back.
“Tom, please just… Just take James and go. I’m not going to fight with you.” He sighed and continued to close in. With his lengthy strides, you were unevenly matched.
“You have every right to hate me, darling. I don’t disagree. But for the sake of our son, you and I need to be able to get along. I won’t miss out on his future achievements because you’re angry with me. Come with us. Come have dinner with us. We can be a family, even if it’s only for one night. I don’t think I’m being unreasonable. It’ll just be the three of us, no one else.”
You started to shake your head in protest, but stopped to think about it. What harm would it do? James could see both of his parents happy together, even if it was purely feigned happiness.
“Fine, but you have to promise me something,” you finally asserted. Tom gave a curt nod and said he’d do anything you asked.
“Promise me that we can make this a monthly thing at the very least. James deserves it.”
“Could I convince you to make this a nightly thing?” For the first time in over a year, you laughed. A real laugh, accompanied by an actual head shake this time.
“Not a chance, Hiddleston. But I’ll compromise. Weekly?”

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