Tom Hiddleston and Loki Laufeyson Imagines

Tom's Breakup (pt.1)

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warnings: slight angst, depression

setting: reader's apartment

story type: fluff/angst

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I pulled my blanket closer to my cold frame as the movie on the TV screen filled my living room with light. The warm cup of tea in my hands sent tingles of comfort through my veins. I was having a nice night in, curled up watching a movie. This week had been extremely stressful. I had been on set everyday this week for hours on end, and tonight I finally let myself relax knowing I was off tomorrow.

I was pulled from my thoughts by a knock on the door. My brows pulled. Who would be here this late?

I sighed and walked to my apartment door, expecting a late delivery or perhaps an axe murderer coming to put me out of my misery.

I opened the door to find my best friend, soaking wet from the rain with bloodshot eyes.

I let out a gasp at his appearance.

"Tom? Are you alright? Come inside." I gently grabbed his arm and lead him inside, taking his jacket and hanging it on the coat rack while guiding his shaking form to the sofa.

He was staring into space, his mind somewhere else.

"Tom? What happened?" I asked, he was starting to scare me.

"S-She left me— she left me for him." He croaked, tears filling his eyes. He looked awful-- Bloodshot, puffy eyes— shaking like a leaf, I was going to pounce on this chick.

"Oh Tom," I said, pulling him in for a hug, "I'm so sorry sweetie."

He buried his face into my neck and sobbed.

My heart broke at the sight. This girl had shattered him. She better watch her back from now on.

I rubbed his back and let him cry into my neck. I knew he needed to let it out.

After his muffled cries became nothing more than sniffles, I pulled back slightly so I could talk to his face.

"Do you want some tea? Something to eat?" I asked, wiping a stray tear that rolled down his cheek.

He nodded weakly, "T-Tea would be nice."

I smiled at him and stood, wrapping him up in the blanket and walking to the kitchen to make him his favorite, Earl Grey piping hot with a splash of milk.

I carefully grabbed the mug and walked back into the living room.

He was slumped over, his head resting on a pillow and his eyes somewhere else. He was still shaking, and I knew what he needed the most was physical comfort. That's how Tom and I have always been, he was a very affectionate person.

I set the cup down on a coaster and sat down next to him. As soon as I was situated he laid his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes. Poor thing.

I frowned and rubbed his arm, pressing a kiss to his forehead. He deserves so much better than this.

I let him lean on me for a few minutes before I felt his breathing slow and his eyes started drooping.

"She said he was better than me. He was buffer, better built— and younger." He croaked.

My heart sank.

"Thomas," I started, lifting his head to look at me, "You are built absolutely perfect. You don't need big muscles or a six pack. You are amazing just the way you are. You are the kindest, most selfless person I have ever met, and she was too blind to see you for you. She can run off with that stupid bodybuilder. She didn't deserve someone as incredible as you." I said, smoothing a few of his stray hairs and rubbing his back.

He sniffled and smiled feebly at me, "I don't?"

I chuckled softly and smiled at him, "No Tom, you don't." I kissed his forehead again.

His eyes brimmed with tears again at my words and he pushed me so we were laying down on the couch cushions, his head in the crook of my neck and one of my hands rubbing his back while the other played with his hair.

I woke up with a small groan, and sat up. Last nights events came into my mind and my eyes searched frantically for my heartbroken best friend.

A clang of pots and a small stream of curse words answered my question.

I walked into my kitchen to find Tom trying to cook breakfast. I giggled quietly and walked up behind him, peering over his shoulder at the pancakes.

I set my chin down on his shoulder and stood on my tip-toes trying to get a better view. His head turned slightly in my direction and he smiled at me.

I looked at him and smiled back, "Hi."

"Hello." He chuckled.

I grinned at him, "Shouldn't I be making you breakfast?" I asked. He smiled again.

"I thought it was the least I could do since I barged into your home and cried on your pillows."

I laughed and pat his back, "Don't worry about it. I'm glad you came to me last night— and my pillows will survive."

His smile widened at my words as he placed two of the pancakes on a plate and handed it to me.

I hummed in approval as the soft pancake steamed, begging me to demolish it.

"Thank you Tom." I said, kissing his cheek and walking back to my couch. I looked over at my pillows.

I chuckled at the tear stains. Poor guy.

He walked in and sat down next to me and we ate, talking in small bursts.

Once we had finished I took both of our dishes and put them in the sink.

I was about to turn and leave before I felt arms wrap around my waist from behind. Tom laid his head on my shoulder and sniffled.

My heart broke for the hundredth time.

I spun around in his arms and pulled him into a hug, rubbing his back and fighting my own tears at his state. He cried softly into my shoulder before he pulled away and looked at me.

I frowned at him, wiping his tears away.

"I don't have a place to stay at." He stated glumly, "I sold my house when I moved in with her."

"You can stay with me." I said.

"Are you sure? I won't be a bother?" He asked, his eyes flickering with joy. I smiled at him and pushed another stray hair back in place.

"Of course not Thomas. You've never been a bother to me."

He smiled and hugged me again, burying his face in my neck.

Living with Tom was definitely going to be interesting— but I was more than happy to let him move in.

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word count: 1126