Tom Hiddleston - Imagines -

Lie (💛)

❤️Sir Thomas Sharpe
💦 Smut
*Requested by: laufeysongirl4

(From being stressed about working on his clay-mining invention, Thomas is slightly frustrated and annoyed...perhaps you could relive some of his stress?)

Also, the Lucille in this is nice and not psychotic 😂

——————————

{I gave you the messiest head, you give me the messiest head...}

The mornings that Thomas would rise early to work on his machine used to be seldom. 

Only every now and then would he willingly leave the comfort and warmth of the bed you shared to brave the cold and metal outside in the front yard of the mansion.  He would stay with you cuddled into him, him protecting you from the creeks and groans of the house that scared you, and he kept you war, on the coldest nights. 

But now it was periodic. 

You'd wake up to the soft glow of clouds covering the sun through the tall Victorian windows, and a cold sheet on the right side.  You would rise, braiding your hair to keep it away and walk downstairs to meet Lucille every morning for breakfast which consisted of eggs and toast, and some black tea.  Lucille would make the food, while you made the tea, making a plate for all of you and laying it out in the large wooden table in the kitchen.

But this morning, when you woke up to a cold bed and no sight of Thomas, you stuffed down your emotions and slugged downstairs to eat and explore the mansion a little more.  When you turned into the kitchen, Lucille had just finished the tea, setting your cup on the table behind your plate which was still steaming from heat.

"Good morning, Lucille,". You mumble, taking your spot at the table and picking up a utensil.

"You're a bit late getting up,". She chides with a chuckle, sitting down beside you, beginning to eat herself.  You apologized, glancing at the chair beside you and it's plate full of food, which was untouched and when you felt it, it was cold.

"Where's Thomas?"  You ask, swallowing some tea down with your toast.

"His machine again..,he's going to drive himself mad with frustration,". She says, shaking her head.

"What's wrong with it this time?" You ask her also to bracing yourself for impact.  The three of you always scrapped whatever you could together to fund for it, seeing as you had little money and the already pinching siblings are barely getting by.

"Oh, I don't think it's the machine..."She says in a singsong voice, but you just look at her confused, chewing your eggs.  After a while of waiting for a reaction, she rolls her eyes.

"Have you fucked in a while?"  She says bluntly.  At that you almost spit out your eggs, swallowing them down roughly and drinking some tea.

"Well....". You begin, trying to think of the last time the two of you really unwinded.

"He's been so damn caught up in that machine, and, don't get me wrong, I love his mind and his ambition, it's just..."

"Depriving?" Lucille interrupts, glancing at you with knowing eyes.  You smile, rolling them.

"It's all he does,". You say, finalizing your little rant, looking at her for advice.  She nods, drinking down some tea.

"Go talk to him."  She says simply with a shrug.

"You make it sound easy...". You grumble, standing to put your empty dish in the sink.

"He's your husband, talking with him should be easy,". She tuts, standing to put her plate in as well as you reached for the soup and washcloth.  Maybe cleaning would help you take your mind off his being distant.