Random One Shots

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


140. Tom Hiddleston 8

~You swirled the small glass of water in your hand, the ice cubes clinking against the sides. Your friends were lost in the sea of people ahead on the large dance floor, and you, of course, got sucked into being their designated driver.
The sound of the bass reverberated in your skull, as your fingernails unconsciously tapped the beat on your glass. Leaning against the bar, you pinched the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes. This was absolutely typical with these friends of yours. Sometimes it seemed like they only kept you around to take care of their drunk asses after a night of partying.
Your free set of fingers traces the outline of your car keys in your pocket. Maybe I can slip out of here unnoticed.
A sudden voice cut through the thumping of the music. It was thick with curiosity and flecked with slight concern.
“Why aren’t you dancing?” With the voice came a British accent that caused you to look up, dropping your hand from your face. Your eyes met a set of soft blue ones, accompanied by a sandy mop of curls and a mile-wide, million dollar smile. A breath hitched in your throat, and you felt like you were choking for a second. The man in beside you chuckled at your lack of response, almost as if he’d mistaken your awe for apprehension.
“Don’t worry, love,” he began. “I’m not going to bite.” A small smirk chiseled itself across your lips.
“Not even if I want you to?” you quipped without consideration. A look of sheer surprise illuminated his features, lending a vibrant rosy glow to his cheeks. You covered your mouth quickly, muttering your sincerest apologies, insisting that you should learn how to think before you speak. His mouth contorted back into that grin.
“If you asked nicely, I suppose I might.” He thrust his hand in front of you, letting out another breathy chuckle. “I’m Tom, by the way.”
You took his hand in a firm grip, but shook it timidly, responding curtly with your name. He pulled your hand to his lips, leaving an airy kiss on your knuckles.
“Surely a beauty like you isn’t here alone.” The inflection in his voice was questioning, his eyes almost pleading you to disagree. The heat of his breath ghosted over the back of your hand, sending a chill up your spine. You slid your hand out of his, letting him sweat for a second. A mouthful of water found its way down the back of your throat, and you set your glass back on the counter. Courage coursed through your body, causing your feet to find the floor.
“I’m not anymore.” You grabbed Tom’s hand, pulling him close. His smile went from just that to an effervescent beam. His head moved to your ear, and his voice dropped to a husky whisper.
“Dance with me tonight.”
The arches of your feet ached, and your stomach was twisted into knots. All the laughing and dancing with Tom had started to wear on you. He’d maintained physical contact the whole time, and as the song faded into a slow beat, he made no exception.
Tom’s right hand searched out the natural curve of your waist, and he pulled your body flush to his. The right side of your head found his shoulder as his left hand took yours. The pair of you swayed to the mellow song, and you were grateful for the first slow dance of the night with him.
He leaned down, his voice in a soft murmur, barely audible over the music.
“I’ve had so much fun this evening.” The smile that hadn’t left your face grew exponentially and you looked up at him. Even in heels, he was still a good head taller than you.
His bright eyes wore an invigorating, inviting intensity, sending a familiar cherry glow creeping across your cheeks. You buried your face back in his shoulder, laughing lightly.
“You know, I saw you sitting up there by yourself, and I just got a good feeling. It’s really been a fantastic night, and I feel like I need to ask… Would you like to see me again? After tonight?”
You nodded, and his grip on your hand tightened for a second, before his body entirely vacated yours. The hand on your shoulder told you it wasn’t by his choice. Your head turned, spotting two of the “friends” you’d come in with.
“We’re ready to go!” one chided. Kristen, not now. You groaned internally, shaking her off your shoulder. Clearly, she was completely shit-faced. They both were, really. The girl next to her, Kathryn, tapped her foot impatiently.
“Then go. I’m going to stay longer.” Your response was calm and collected. The pair looked at each other with astonishment, and Tom’s hands both found the belt loops of your jeans again.
“She’s still got some dancing to do.”

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