Chapter Text

Your morning started off rather pleasantly if you thought back to it. A thunderstorm rolled in overnight and washed the whole city in the fresh scent of rain hitting the ground. You didn't bother going into work, especially after the text you sent, so you spent most of the morning curled in a warm blanket with hot chocolate and a good book for company.

It was moment like this that always put your mind at peace. There was nothing like the sound of rain that made you want to spend all day inside with your thoughts. Which was more than needed right now.

The last few days had moved so fast you didn't really have time to think. There were too many factors that threatened to send your mind into full anxiety mode if you didn't slow down and analyze things. Making big decisions required clear thinking. Or a lot of tequila.

You knew you had multiple text messages from both Tom and Michael waiting on your phone for you to check, but you didn't have the energy to answer them today. There was too much to consider, to analyze. Bringing either man into the middle of your day would interrupt everything and send you into a whole new tizzy.

Wow… You really must be going insane to actually think the word tizzy. What were you, 80?

So let's break this down. Mentally you began a checklist of upsides and downsides to each choice.

Choice #1: Stay at Hiddleston & Co. and break up with Michael

You'd make Tom happy for whatever reason

You already knew everything about your job. There was a comfort there in knowing what to expect and never having to step beyond what you know.

You'd get to spend the rest of your life pining over Tom Hiddleston

On the other hand, there were downsides:

You'd probably never find a happy, fulfilling relationship with Tom trying to cock block you every time you meet someone

You'd be a secretary for the rest of your life

You'd spend the rest of your life pining over an emotionally unavailable man

Choice #2: Leave Hiddleston & Co. and precede in your relationship with Michael

You'd get regular, VERY HOT, sex

The opportunity to grow and learn so much more than you knew.

You'd finally get taken seriously by someone

Office sex.. Enough said

And the downsides:

You'd probably never see Tom Hiddleston again

In retrospect, you could probably come to terms with the fact you'd never see him again. It's just a crush, right? With the help of someone equally sexy and kind fucking you on a regular basis, it shouldn't be difficult.

But the reality was you had felt like that for 8 years. He was all you ever dreamt about, ever wanted and hoped for, ever fantasized about for 8 whole, very long years. As much as you'd like to pretend that meant nothing, it was pretty big. A piece of your heart was his. Whether or not he ever knew about that or took advantage of it, that was the truth. Could Michael ever come to terms with that?

Not once had Tom done or said anything to try to show that he felt the same way. Even as you watched him get tipsy in his office after a long day and too much paperwork. Even as you carried his long body to the elevators and tried to get him to his driver who would take care of him. Even as you watched his successes and failures up close and he confided in you. The way the tears welled up when he just wanted to give up. The way he'd go running after dealing with a particularly frustrating person for too long. The way he held you after you found out your boyfriend cheated on you.

There were too many memories to fully reconcile. Closing that chapter of your life would be painful and hard simply because those memories are so fueled by the hopes that were never met. Hope deferred makes the heart sick, and damn was your heart aching like a head cold that never quite dissipates.

Maybe if you just told him how you felt, what you'd hidden for years, that hope could be put into a little box that you could mentally throw into the Hudson. Perhaps there would be some resolve. Even if Tom rejected you, the pain and the anger would be enough to heal from. How do you heal from desire? From hope?

The sounds coming from your phone began to happen so consistently that it interrupted your thoughts. You should probably turn it off, just to get a moment of peace. With a small sigh, you pulled yourself from your blanket cocoon and walked over to your phone just to check what was so concerning that people wouldn't leave you alone.

There were still the messages and voicemails from Tom, though it looked like he'd called a million more time since you sent him the message last night. There were also a few calls and messages from Michael, all concerned as to why you hadn't responded to him. It couldn't hurt to check his messages while you were already looking at your phone.

Michael: Leaving you tonight was so difficult. The beautiful little noises you made as I touched you are still ringing in my ears. You are going to be the death of me, love.

Michael: For your information, I don't let my accent slip in normal conversation because most people don't take me seriously as an Irish man. It was too irritating to me, so I did something about it.

Michael: I don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight. All I can think about is the way your lips felt against mine and how I want to taste you directly from the source.

Michael: How are you doing this morning, love?

Michael: Have I done something wrong I'm not aware of? I'm sorry that I don't know what it is I've done to offend you.

Michael: Please respond just so I know you're alright

Michael: I'm going to head over tonight if you don't call me back by 6. Maybe I'm overreacting, but I'm really worried.

You sighed as your heart skipped a beat. He never ceased to think about you, to worry about you. Some people might take that as being needy, but not many guys would actually care to check in without their pride keeping them from really making sure everything is ok. You loved it, to be honest.

You: I'm alright, Michael. Sorry for not responding. I've been away from my phone all day. Thanks for the concern.

Seconds after you responded, your phone buzzed with a phone call. This time, you took the extra second to see the caller ID just to make sure it was Michael. When you saw his name pop on your screen, you smiled softly before picking it up.

"Hey," you answered softly.

There was a short pause and a loud exhale. "Hey love. How are you doing?" He asked, clearly relieved.

"I'm alright, Michael. Seriously," you assured. "I wasn't ignoring you because you did something wrong or anything like that. I just needed some time away from everything to think for a little bit." Hopefully that was enough explanation to set him at ease

Another pause, a small shuffling noise. Then a small chuckle. "I'm so sorry, love," Michael apologized. "I can't believe I've been such an idiot sending you that many text messages and calls over you not responding. I promise I'm never this needy normally."

"Don't worry about it," you snickered, before smiling warmly. "It really is endearing though. I don't mind you being concerned about me."

"That's probably a good thing," he said with another self deprecating laugh. "Do you want me to come over tonight still? We could put on a movie or something if you'd like."

You looked around your apartment, it's state of mess that you didn't have any desire to fix up. Then down at your black, tattered sweatpants and Harry Potter tee shirt. "As much as I appreciate the offer, I think it might be better if I catch up on some work tonight," you smoothly rejected his offer. Not that you wanted to not see him. You just didn't want him to see you like this.

"Alright, I'll leave you to your thoughts then. Just call if you change your mind, ok?"

"Will do. Thanks again, Michael," you promised.

"No problem, love. Have a wonderful rest of your day. I'll be thinking about you the whole time."

And with that, he ended the phone call with a soft click. Your heart soared with a happiness you hadn't experienced in a very long time. Oh, you were completely fucked. Hey, at least he was a billionaire who actually wanted you this time, right? That's progress in your perspective.

Just then, your call button near the elevator started to ring for your attention. Well, there went your day of being alone. Hadn't people ever heard of an introvert?

The small video screen held a quite put out door man, probably someone new by the looks of it and none other than a gorgeous and very wet Tom Hiddleston in the background.

"Ma'am, there's a gentleman here for you, says his name is Tom. The normal guy left a note saying you don't like any of us just letting visitors up unless you're with them. Is it ok to send him up?" The kind, courteous voice of the doorman asked.

Taking one look at Tom told you that there was no way in hell he was going to take no for an answer right now and he'd probably just set the whole building on fire if you didn't let him come up. "Yeah, let him up. Thank you", you sighed, rubbing at your eyes in frustration.

The elevator went up the 10 floors quickly, but you felt each floor like a thumping in your chest. Of course Tom had seen your apartment before. He'd even seen you dressed in your current outfit. That's just what happens when you work for a man who has zero boundaries and needs to talk, to get stuff done in the middle of the night as well as has a tendency to get you very drunk when you party with him.

You could remember a few very blurry memories where he practically carried you to your bed, laughing as you mumbled on about some stupid television show finale. How he brushed the hair from your forehead as you fell asleep. He was an attentive friend and an obnoxious boss.

The doors clicked open with a ding and you were suddenly face to face with the most beautiful sight you'd ever had the pleasure of seeing.

Tom was standing there, breathing hard and dripping wet. He was only wearing a white tee shirt and black jeans, meaning he hadn't been at the office when he decided to take a run. And when he took a run in this kind of weather, it was a very bad sign.

The dazed feeling didn't last very long as Tom pushed the brightly lit phone in his hand into your face. You blinked repeatedly as you tried to let in come into focus, only to see the text message you'd sent last night permanently scorched into your retinas.

You: I don't think I can do this anymore. I need a few days to think, Tom. And I might not being coming back.

Funny thing about those kind of texts, it always felt more like a break up text than a possibly quitting text. If it weren't for the anger coursing through every grinding muscle you saw ripple in Tom's body, you'd probably have laughed.

"What. Is. The. Meaning. Of. This?" He ground out, emphasizing each word.

You backed away, a little afraid, but tried to mask it by heading for your small kitchen. "Would you like some tea?" You offered over your shoulder while pretending to look for the tea bags in the random cupboards around you when you knew they were in a jar on the counter.

The sound of Tom's phone smacking against the counter succeeded in making you jump a bit. "I want to know, now." He growled out. Now that pissed you off.

"You know," You started, turning to face him again. "... The text message is pretty clear, Tom. There's not a lot left to say."

Tom glared at you, giving you the full heat for his fury right now before crumbling in on himself. He pulled out of the stools from under the counter and sat with his head in his hands. "Earl Grey, if you would," he asked softly, rubbing his head like he had a headache.

You smiled to yourself, already having the bag on ready. Ever since you first started to work for Tom, you made sure to have a bag of Earl Grey at the ready constantly. Between that and a bottle of Jameson, there was always a fix to help a bad moment or irritation that was overwhelming your boss.

Nothing else was said between the two of you for a moment of two as you put the kettle on the stove and waited for the water to heat. Tom kept rubbing his head furiously. You took a good long look at him through the side of your eyes, taking in his ragged facial expression, looking completely worn and exhausted. He probably didn't sleep at all last night.

It wasn't until you set the tea in front of him that he finally said something again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, staring into his cup.

You sighed and struggled against the lump in your throat that threatened to take away your ability to speak. "I know, Tom… I know."

"I just.. I don't know what came over me," He tried to explain, sipping at his tea. "I've been so mad lately.. And then you said you were going to leave.. I just didn't know what to do."

Noticing he started to shiver, you grabbed some of your thick towels from a cupboard and threw them at him. He gave you a grateful look before wrapping up in them. "I don't know if I'm leaving yet, Tom. I might not," you informed, making sure he knew things were completely hopeless.

His face shot up immediately, reading your face closely for something. You busied yourself with refilling his cup so you didn't have to meet his gaze.

"Did Fassbender offer you a job? Is that why you went out with him last night?" He asked, clearly trying to take the demanding tone out that threatened to come in.

You sighed, rubbing your own head this time. "Yes, Tom. He offered me a job. But we went out because he likes me. End of story," you revealed as little as possible.

The silence was a bit overwhelming, so you looked up at him finally and took in the shock he was bad at hiding.

"What, is it so crazy to think a man might actually want me?" You challenged, a little hurt by that look.

Clearly the anger was threatening to show its face again as you watched his jaw clench and unclench much like his fists. You prepared yourself mentally for another outburst.

"I just can't believe this man would try to get your mind over to his side by getting into your pants. What kind of self respecting C.E.O. would do that?" Tom started, his voice building in volume with every word.

You crossed your arms over your chest in defiance. "He hasn't gotten into my pants, Tom. And for your information, he has personally informed me that his interest stays whether or not I take the job," you argued back.

"Seriously?" He scoffed. "And you believed that?"

Oh, he should know better than to give you that look. You weren't an idiot and he needed to get over himself. "Yes, I did," you yelled. "And even if it wasn't true, I'd still consider taking the job because it's more than you've ever offered me in 8 fucking years!"

"And what has he offered you?" Tom bellowed back, the peace of the day lost in the fight you were sure your neighbors would complain about. "What could he possibly give you that I can't?"

"He offered me hope!" You shrieked. "Hope that I could ever be something more than your lap dog and your stupid answering machine! Hope that just maybe someone might actually want me back and appreciate me for who I am, a hope you've never once offered to me!"

Tom took a step back, blinking rapidly. Your whole body heated up at the realization of what you just said. Want you back… you said want you back… Oh god no…

Just as quickly on the rebound, he took a step closer, still yelling. "Is that what you want, to be wanted? Does it make you feel better that maybe Fassbender has used this same technique on every other woman in his company, making promises he never intended to keep just to make them feel things with his lies? Does deluding yourself make you feel happier?!"

"So what?!" You were nearing the end of your ability to argue without tears falling. "It's not like you don't sleep around every chance you get! Does it bother you to see someone else actually looking at me and seeing something desirable?!"

Tom took another step closer, ignoring the streams of tears that were now falling down your face. Oh this would be a really bad ugly cry the minute he left. "If you wanted to be seen, to be desirable, all you had to do was ask!" He yelled in your face. That made you stop and stare at him. Those kind of words shouldn't be yelled, but purred. And they were just accompanied by spittle.

"Ask?! Are you fucking kidding me?! You want me to ASK you to WANT ME???!" You shrieked in complete bewilderment.

"Gah!" Tom finally gave in, stepping away fuming. He seemed to just have realized that his words weren't coming out with much sense. He leaned against the counter, trying to regulate his breathing while you just stared at him, oblivious to the tears still falling. This man didn't have to be so damn complicated all the time.

When he finally breached the silence, it was in the voice you'd come to know like the back of your hand. He focused on the counter and ground out the words perfectly, so sure of what he was saying for once. He called you name once, just softly enough to get your attention and make sure you were listening.

"If you wanted someone to make you feel like you were wanted, like you were precious and desirable, all you had to do was ask," he murmured gently, paused, took a deep breath, "... because I've always wanted and desired you."

You scoffed at that, the very words not computing with your brains waves. "You can't be serious… Is this some ploy to try to get me to stay your secretary?!" You demanded indignantly.

"No," he denied before turning towards you and started invading your personal space. The way he said no resonated with you that he was being serious. It gave absolutely no room for suspicion or question. It simply was, whether or not you excepted it.

You gaped and tried to form words as he continued to get closer and closer while you unconsciously backed away. "Then why did you never say anything before? Where is this coming from?"

"It's always been there, from the first time I laid eyes on you," Tom seduced with his voice while walking like a predator closing in on his prey. "I made excuses, tried to ignore the way you made me feel, tried to fuck the need out of me, but it never left. You tortured me with your nearness and killed me with the distance I had to maintain as your boss". You bumped into a wall and there was suddenly nowhere to run as he leaned in, caging you on either side with his long arms.

"But I just can't anymore. I'm done hiding how you make me feel. I'm done hiding the way you burn through my veins like the sweetest alcohol I've ever tasted." He accompanied his word by taking on of your hands in his to touch his body, burning hot through his damp clothing. He brought your hands to the front of his jeans where he was already straining towards you desperately. "This, my sexy minx, is what you do to me just by existing. And I can't go any longer without having you."

You experimentally cupped his length through the confines of his jeans and he moaned before jerking his hips in your hand. Truth be told, you were in complete shock and looking back, you would wish you hadn't been, that you'd made a different choice. But there was no resisting the allure of Tom Hiddleston.

So when he kissed you, you let him. In fact, you let him so hard that you kissed him back just as desperately. He tasted like mint, rain, earl grey, and something purely him. Even as his hot tongue slid over your own expertly, you knew you'd become addicted to his flavor if you weren't careful.

And your addictive personality had no intention of being careful.

Tom pressed his body against yours, dampening the front of your tee shirt and pants, but neither of you had enough brain cells available to give a fuck. The heat of his body invaded yours in the most promising sense as your back strained against the hard wall you were pressed into. But his mouth never gave in for a second.

He took whatever was available, his hands exploring every inch of you before holding your hands above your head as he ground his hips into yours with breathless need. He was rough and hungry, and it truly had you begging for more with your own hands and body, bucking against him desperately.

Tom let go of your lips for just moment to give you a second to catch your breath as he pulled your sweatpants off your hips and let them pool around your ankles. Just as effortlessly, he grasped you by the back of your thighs and lifted you until you were eye level with him and your legs were wrapped around his thin waist. Then he went back to fucking your lips with his own while his fingers got busy.

You were surprised with the wetness he drew attention to as he moved your underwear out of the way and found your clit immediately. You were already soaked through and dripping without much more than a kiss, even if it was the hottest kiss of your fucking life. There was no denying the heat, the need, or the passion in that moment that burned in both of your bodies. This was 8 years coming.

Tom played with your clit ferociously, bringing you to the cliff of orgasm so quickly with the same demands the rest of his body said wordlessly. And just as you began to fall, he removed his hand, forcing you to let out a whine into his lips.

He separated himself from your lips with a lewd pop as he worked his belt off with one hand. "Shit, darling. I don't think I can wait much longer. I need you now," he pleaded, his own voice lowering an octave to rumble straight into your body at the perfect, pussy clenching frequency.

"It's ok, Tom. I'm on the pill. Just get inside of me now!" You demanded, bucking your hips against his.

A small grin broke out over his face as he pulled his erection from its confines and placed himself at your dripping entrance, holding your underwear out of the way with one hand. Then, taking your hips into his hands, he lowered you just enough for him to lunge forward to sheathe himself in your depths.

Oxygen completely escaped you as you were impaled on his member, larger than anything you've ever had before. He tested your limits and shattered them, managing to touch you everywhere at once and impaling you so deep that you were convinced you'd never be satisfied with anything less ever again. Your moans were getting louder and louder with each movement of his hips, the chorus of sounds likely to make the neighbors even more pissed than before. Talk about a noise complaint.

But all you could think about was his cock buried deep inside of you as he withdrew and thrust over and over, not taking any prisoners. His blue eyes stared deep into your soul as he took and you gave. He pulled an orgasm from you before you were even quite aware it happened. But he never let up, fucking you straight into the wall until it felt like you were breathing the same air, like you'd become an extension of each other.

His own moans and grunts were music to your ears, filled with the same desperation you knew saturated yours. You wished you could bottle his moans and put them on display in museum at the most beautiful sound in human history. Whether this is a one time thing or not, you'd give anything to hear those moans for eternity.

Your hands clung to his shoulders and you were sure you were leaving all sorts of scratches down his back while he fucked you in the wall without mercy. A small stutter to his hips told you he was nearing completion, his moans and cries mingling with your own and with a little extra help from his thumb on your clit, you fell over the edge together.

The burn that seemed to have scorched your veins flooded every inch of skin with an unfamiliar warmth as he unloaded himself into your clenching pussy, milking him for every last drop. It was the best sex of your life and that moment, staring deep into his eyes and realizing what just happened was still just as beautiful.

There was no regret in his features. Nor did he grab his phone and head out, much like you expected him to. No, he pulled out of you and lowered you from the wall, only to press his forehead against yours and chuckle softly. More angelic sounds like that and you'd consider becoming religious, sure he'd been sent to show you what heaven was like.

Heaven was there, in that moment. Knowing he wasn't going anywhere as he showered with you, letting the warm water flow over the two of you. That as he laid with you in your bed and slept, he would be there when you woke up. This was the answer you'd been searching for and somehow, the pieces in your heart began to mend. The sickness was finally leaving.