Chapter Text
Her skin was on fire, desire running through her veins as she closed her eyes, and clenched her teeth. Diana didn't want to make any noise - she couldn't possibly, not here, even though moan after moan begged to be released from the cage that was her throat.
"Hurry up," Diana managed to mutter, sucking a breath of air through her nose as her grip of his soft, brown curls tightened. Tom's tongue stopped its slow, teasing dance, lips stretching into a smirk against her wet, sensitive folds. She closed her eyes with a frustrated groan which, in return, made the man between her parted legs let out an infuriatingly arrogant chuckle.
"Excuse me, babygirl, am I keeping you from something?" He asked, looking up at her with those challenging blue eyes of his. Diana blushed, embarrassed, biting her lip, struggling to not glance away from him.
"I just don't want to keep your family waiting for too long, that's all," Diana explained herself, tucking a strand of her hair behind one ear. "What if they figure out what we're doing up here?"
"My sweet, precious girl, would you stop thinking about my mother and sisters while I'm quite literally trying to eat your delicious pussy in peace?" Tom's words mortified her, and Diana simply had to cover up her reddening face with the closest pillow she could get her hands on. She went on to mumble from underneath the safety of her feathery shield:
"I hate you, Hiddleston."
"I love you too, Diana," she heard him saying, the smile on his face becoming audible as he spoke. "Now, my darling, kindly shut up, and allow me to make you cum."
Diana did not say another word after that. Tom eagerly resumed his previous activity, his tongue diving deep, and exploring every inch of her soaking slit. Diana was grateful for the pillow she was now pushing against her face, and using as a tool which - she hoped - muffled her moaning to sounds she alone could hear. Soon enough, as Tom was sucking the very life out of her clit, all while pumping two of his fingers into her, Diana came. Hard. The whole thing couldn't have lasted more than a handful of minutes, but the orgasm he had given her stopped time itself with its transcendent force. Her whole body turned into a sloppy mess of convulsing limbs. Tom then used his tongue, and cleaned the surface of his juicy massacre to the best of his ability, large hands physically holding Diana down as waves of pleasure washed over her. Eventually, she dared to open her eyes, and once again fully join the man she loved most in not only body, but spirit as well.
"You were such a good, quiet girl for me, sweetheart," Tom murmured, lazily looking down at her as he got up on his knees, hands still holding onto her hips. "Daddy's proud of you."
"Please, Tom, let me take care of you too," Diana practically begged him, propping herself up on her elbows. "You're the one who deserves to be treated like this right now, not me."
"Babygirl, when will you understand how truly, utterly selfish I am when it comes to sex? I ate that sweet cunt of yours out because I was hungry, and craved its taste with every atom of my body, not because I thought that you particularly deserved to have an orgasm before lunch."
"That was a bit rude, don't you think?" Diana spat, feigning offense as she sat up, closing her weakened legs, and brining her face closer to his. Tom leaned forward, and kissed the tip of her nose.
"It's a good thing that you get turned on by my rudeness, then." Mouth finding hers, Tom pulled Diana into a kiss which left her gasping. She could taste herself on his lips, and when his tongue forced itself down her throat, Diana's pussy twitched with need between her thighs. She squeezed them, dulling the ache as much as she could on her own.
"It's not fair, you know?" She whispered, hovering her lips over Tom's, forehead pressed against his as she shifted to a kneeling position as well. Diana wrapped her arms around his neck, dipping her hands into his hair as she added: "You've got so much power over me. You've become my entire existence, do you know that? That's so not healthy, Tom."
"And you don't think that the feeling is mutual?" Tom sounded almost hurt. "Babygirl, you're the one and only thing that has been keeping me functioning for these past few months. If you want to talk about fairness and power, take a look in the mirror first."
Fear paralyzed her for a second, its sharp claws finding her heart, and sizing it. Diana was scared.
"Fuck, Tom, what are we going to do?"
"I..." He fell silent, tilting his head backwards as he inhaled. "I don't know, Diana. I don't fucking know..."
In that moment, Diana realized a most crucial thing. Tom would either marry her, or leave her, for they couldn't possibly go on pretending like the rest of the world did not exist. Not anymore.
* * *
On the day of his father's funeral, Tom got drunk. Really, very, incredibly drunk. He couldn't remember much of the ceremony, spending the entire time taking sip after sip from his flask as he hid behind his sunglasses, and cold, uninviting exterior. Diana tired stopping him, but she couldn't. Nobody could've, if Tom was being honest.
Once his father had been laid to rest, Tom knew that he simply had to get away from everyone, and everything. He tried making a swift, seamless exit, but she saw him. That had been his biggest fear, right from the very beginning - her seeing the real him.
"Tom, where are you going?" Diana asked, keeping her voice low, slender fingers squeezing his as she spoke. He took a deep breath, licking his lips before he opened his mouth, and said, fighting to not slur his words so much:
"I can't be here anymore, babygirl. I’ve… gotta leave. Now."
"How? You're as drunk as a skunk." Letting out an exasperated sigh, Diana closed her eyes for a moment before she began digging her hand through his pockets. Eventually, she found what she was looking for - the car keys. "I'm not letting you drive." It was Tom's turn to sigh.
"Look, sweetheart, I appreciate the concern, but I really need to be alone right now, okay?"
"You're incredible!" She puffed sarcastically, rolling her eyes in quiet frustration. "I understand that you're upset, sad, angry, but that doesn't give you the right to treat me like this, Tom. I'm here for you, love. Let me be here for you!"
"You don't understand...," Tom mumbled before he could think.
"I don't understand?" He watched Diana's beautiful doe eyes as they began glistening with the promise of tears. Fuck. "I lost my father too, you know? But yeah, you're right. I don't know what it's like to get to see your dad growing old, and having him well into your own adulthood. I was a teenager when mine died."
"Diana, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like-"
"Save it, Hiddleston." Cutting him off, shaking her head in what Tom knew to be disgust, Diana shoved the car keys back into his pocket. Turning her back to him, she picked up the hem of her simple, yet elegant, long black dress, walking up the hill of dewy grass, and joining the rest of the funeral procession.
"Goddamnit..." Tom muttered through clenched teeth, wishing that he had the balls to walk up to Diana, and apologize for the unfortunate exchange he had made her take part in. Instead of being the man she deserved, Tom remained the man he was, the pathetic drunk who drowned himself in alcohol as soon as his heart started aching.
As the mourners gathered inside St Paul's Cathedral, Tom fled the scene, finding his way back to his car as he fished his cigarettes from another one of his pockets. Lighting one, he climbed behind the wheel, closing the door with a loud thud before he did what he'd been dreaming of doing ever since the news about his father's passing had reached him. Tom screamed.
He screamed until his voice betrayed him, the loud, almost primal shrieking fading into a most dismal sob. Even though - as Diana pointed out earlier - Tom was a grown man, he felt no less like a child. But a young boy who had just lost a father; a man who had brought him both unimaginable sorrow, and great joy. He couldn't blame Diana, but her words wounded him nonetheless, cutting right into his surprisingly thin skin, and quickly finding his shattered heart. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he thought about Alice, about how she always knew what to do when Tom found himself in these situations. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Tom missed Alice.
* * *
Diana fought back tears as she joined Tom's mother and sisters, who thankfully had been far too preoccupied with thanking everyone for attending the funeral to notice them talking, and him eventually leaving entirely. Biting her quivering lip, she focused on the cobblestones beneath her feet, attempting to quite literally blend into the background.
"Are you quite alright, dear?" Emma asked her once people began leaving the stunning cathedral in which the ceremony was held.
"Yes, I'm fine," Diana assured her with a little too much forced zest, clearing her throat as she willed her eyes to find Emma's. She was beautiful, a few years older than herself, with blonde hair and the same breathtaking blue eyes Tom had.
"I know that my brother can be a handful, and you're still so young, but don't give up on him, please." As her lips formed a worried line, Emma's brows came together in a frown of sisterly concern. "Tom's all alone in America, and I can tell that he really cares about you. Help him forget, Diana. Help my brother get back to the lad he was before Alice broke his heart."
Diana kept her silence for a good, long while. After an awkwardly extensive pause, she pushed herself to offer Emma a reassuring smile. What could've she possibly said? Okay, I'll be Tom's plaything until he finally gets over his ex? Was that all they saw her as being? A placeholder? An object to be used, and then discarded once it served its purpose? She'd entered this relationship in a transactional manner, sure, but after everything, hadn't Diana become more than just a convenience?
She did not know what to say when Patricia asked her where her son had went. Ultimately, Diana decided to tell her the truth - tell her that she had no idea. Once the four women returned to the elegant London townhouse, Diana excused herself and made her way up to Tom's bedroom. She had shot him a couple of texts throughout the day, after he left the funeral, but he hadn't opened them. Shutting the door after herself, Diana sat down on the bed, and called Tom. Surprise, surprise, he didn't bother answering.
"Fuck you, Tom," she spat, jaw tightening as she spoke. Tears of frustration, anger, and sadness burned behind her eyes as she fought to hold them back. Frankly, Diana wanted to scream.
Leaving her phone on the satin duvet, she sucked a few calming breaths, attempting to stop herself from slipping into some sort of anxiety attack. Heading to the bathroom, Diana washed her hands, splashing cold water on her face as she did so. She looked at her reflection, dark eyes fixating the girl that stared at her from within the mirror. Diana could scarcely recognize herself.
Her very vision darkened when she heard her phone ringing from the other room. All Diana could think about was Tom. Desperate to reach the buzzing device sooner, she practically jumped on top of the bed. Diana answered the call before she could actually see who it was from.
"Hey," Diana mumbled, catching her breath.
"What's up, doll?" Sebastian. Why was he calling her? Diana shook her head, forcing her lips to part into a smile. She tried not to sound disappointed when she opened her mouth again, and said:
"Well, hello there, Seb!"
"I heard about what happened," he muttered hesitantly. "Why the two of you left Paris so soon... I just wanted to check in on you. How are you, beautiful?"
"I'm fine." A lie, of course, but it felt wrong to tell Sebastian how she really felt, especially after everything that had gone down between them in Paris. "How are you doing? Still planning on taking that trip to Romania?"
"As a matter of fact, this is why I called you. I was wondering if you'd like to join me. I know that you're mom is dying to see you, Diana."
"I don't know if this is quite the right time for me to take this trip, Seb," Diana said, clearing her throat. "I don't feel comfortable leaving Tom on his own right now. I'm sure you can understand."
After a moment of silence, she heard Sebastian taking a deep breath before he eventually said:
"Maybe you could bring him with you."
Diana puffed in a disrespectful manner, trying her best not to giggle too loudly.
"Are you actually being serious, Seb?" She asked, rushing to calm herself down. "Do you want me to ask Tom to come to Romania with me - with us?"
"Yeah, why not? You've met his family, I'm sure he'd like to meet yours too." Diana narrowed her eyes, suspicion pinching her heart. Where was this sudden change of attitude coming from?
"Who are you and what did you do with my Sebastian?"
"I'm a big boy. You made your choice, and I better start getting used to seeing that lanky Englishman of yours around. I'm trying here, okay, doll?" A smile pushed the corners of her lips upward.
"Alright, then," Diana said as she kept on smiling. "I'll ask Tom if he's up for it."
"Fantastic!" Sebastian's excitement was audible. "I'll see you soon, beautiful."
"Talk to you soon, Seb."
When Diana returned downstairs, Tom's sisters were chatting in the living room as their mother was keeping herself busy in the kitchen. Their sadness, unlike Tom's violent, unhinged one, was seemingly black and gray - quiet, and reserved, yet obviously there. Diana felt so bad for them, but she also felt uncomfortably in the way. The only thing that she could think of doing was killing two annoying birds with one small, helpful stone.
"I think I should go find Tom."
"He'll be fine, Diana," Emma assured her, "but if this will help you get your mind at ease, you might find him at the pub. It's this little Irish joint he likes, two blocks away from here."
Tom's sister didn't have to twist her arm. In no time at all, Diana managed to change into a pair of comfortable, high-waisted jeans, put her boots back on, throw her jacket over her shoulders, and stuff her hands into a pair of leather gloves. She had to find him. Diana had to make sure that Tom was okay.
* * *
Truthfully, he needed this, as much as it sucked to admit that - even to himself. Tom needed the space, he needed to be alone. Somehow, he managed to make it into one piece at the pub he frequented when he was back home. It was a small, family-owned Irish pub he'd been a regular visitor of ever since his teenage years. Tom still remembered his first time grabbing a drink at the quaint bar. It had been his sixteenth birthday, and his partner in pint had been none other than his father, James. Even though he'd always been a rather cold, distant man, and a strict parent to say the least, James always had a way of making Tom feel special. Receiving any sort of positive attention from him was a rarity, and so the precious moments would stay alive within Tom's mind - no matter how much pain James had caused him in between those instances too.
"I am sorry for your loss, my boy," Bill, the tiny, old bartender wearing a silly, colorful hat said in his signature kind voice, his thick, Irish accent making his faded, heavy ginger mustache wiggle as he spoke. Tom looked up from his perfectly poured glass of Guinness, and offered the pocket-sized man a small smile.
"I don't know what I'm going to do without him, Billy," Tom sighed, running a hand through his hair, sucking a deep, thirsty breath through his nose.
"You'll do what you must do, lad. Live."
"I don't know how to live in a world where my father won't have my back anymore." That was the first time Tom said those words aloud, and somehow they sounded even more terrifyingly pathetic to his ears, then they had to his mind. He cringed, jaw tightening as he took another swig of his beer.
"Give yourself more credit, Tom. You've managed just fine on your own." Wiping a few glasses dry, Bill's cloudy green, narrowed eyes found Tom's. "I know that James was a big part of why you are where you are now, but that's just what fathers do. His help will never take away from your own, personal accomplishments."
"Thank you, old geezer."
"I've had the pleasure of watching James become a father, a mentor." Bill paused, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue before he went on to ask: "What about you, my boy? When will you bring your little one over for a pint of my finest Guinness?" The chuckle escaped Tom's throat before he could stop it.
"I'm afraid there are no little ones in my future, Billy."
"Ahh, what a load of rubbish! You're a handsome, successful young man, and I'd bet you my last dollar that you would make a great father too."
"It seems I don't make a great husband, so I doubt my parenting skills would be any better..."
"You just have to find the right girl, Tom. You know, the one that will awaken what lies inside of every man. The one that will make sense of this whole ordeal we call life."
"And what if I already found her?" Tom snickered, finishing his drink.
"Then you are in luck, my boy! All you have to do now is to get that lass of yours up the duff."
As outrageous as the thought of getting Diana pregnant was, Tom couldn't deny the excitement which began growing within his heart and, well, other places too.
After he had finished his beer, Tom switched to coffee, sobering himself back up with a few back-to-back shots of espresso. He knew that he needed to get back home, but he didn't want to waddle through the front door like a drunken sailor, slurring his words, and bumping into everything.
Handing Billy a wad of cash the old man initially tried refusing, Tom thanked him for his time and wisdom. Placing a cigarette between his lips, he excused himself, and walked to the quaint courtyard behind the pub. Before heading home, Tom required this one last moment of solitude. About six, seven minutes later, as he waltzed back into the pub, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other scrolling through his many unanswered work emails, Tom noticed her.
"Excuse me," Diana said to Bill as she stopped at the bar, adorably out of breath while tucking away a piece of her wind-blown, dark brown hair behind one ear. "I'm looking for someone."
"I don't suppose I'm lucky enough for that someone to be me?" The elderly bartender joked, winking at her. Diana smiled, narrowing her playful eyes.
"I'm sorry, but not this time around."
"Indeed, that is too bad." Tom found himself smiling as he watched their little exchange, curious to see what his babygirl would say next.
"Have you seen him?" Grabbing her phone out of her jacket pocket, Diana flipped the screen over to Bill. Tom could see that she was showing the old man a picture the two of them had taken just a couple of days ago, on their way to the gala. His smile widened. His darling girl came looking for him.
"Oh, that's my boy, Tom! Why, yes, deary, he's right..." Both Bill and Diana began searching the premises for Tom. He waited patiently until the two spotted him, licking his lips, and saying:
"Bloody took you long enough."
"There you are!" Sprinting to his side, chunky heels stomping on the old, hardwood floors, Diana jumped in Tom's arms, wrapping her own around his neck as he picked her up, and locked her in a tight hug. "I've been trying to reach you all day." She then whispered into his ear.
"I know, babygirl, I'm sorry. I just had to be alone for a little while..."
"I should be the one apologizing," Diana mumbled, framing his face with her soft, delicate hands, concerned, yet loving eyes finding his. "I was being a total pushy bitch earlier, and I should've just given you space."
"If anyone's the bitch in this equation, sweetheart, it's going to be me. I'm sorry for running off, and leaving you alone like that."
"It's fine, baby, you're here now."
He didn't waste anymore time. Placing Diana back on her feet, hooking an arm around her waist, underneath her cropped, unzipped bomber jacket, Tom pulled her away from the bar area, and toward the courtyard he had just left. Outside, all alone, Tom pinned his babygirl's back to the stone wall, and kissed her.
The kiss was a sloppy, frantic one, full of passion and need. Within seconds, as their tongues danced with each other, Tom's hands found their way up her shirt, fingers fondling her full, lace-covered breasts. Naturally, Diana didn't keep her hands to herself either, her own digits teasing him as they tugged at his belt. Tom groaned, throaty, animalistic sounds crawling through his clenched teeth. He wanted her. And he wanted her now.
"Turn around," Tom barked the order, nibbling Diana's earlobe afterward. "I need to fuck you."
"Can we maybe go home first?" She giggled, obviously not taking him as seriously as he'd like her to. "It's so fucking cold outside, Tom."
"Do as you're told, Diana. I won't tell you twice." Tom's voice matched the chilliness of the late November, almost December air. Diana's eyes widened with realization, her cheeks deepening their ever-present blush. Obediently, and without saying another word, she turned around. "Such a good fucking girl for daddy."
He easily unbuttoned Diana's cute, dark-washed jeans. Soon enough, Tom's right hand was shoved into her pants, between her legs, all the while he kept kissing and sucking up and down her neck. Diana bit her lip through a moan, holding onto the wall for dear life as two of Tom's fingers found their way inside of her. He had to get his babygirl all nice and ready before he could fuck the living shit out of her sweet, tight cunt.
"That's it, good girl, soak up daddy's fingers with those delicious juices of yours." Tom pressed his hardness into Diana's ass, becoming one with the moaning girl. He kept fucking her with his fingers, pumping her wetness as he rubbed against her g spot. She was already so desperate to cum.
"I want you inside of me, daddy," she whimpered, pressing that plump ass of hers into him, making his cock twitch with both pain and need. Tom gritted his teeth, using his free hand to grab a firm hold of her throat.
"Be a good little slut and tell daddy exactly what you want him to do," he muttered, ripping his fingers out of her. Diana let out a gutted squeal, and when Tom pressed his thumb over her swollen button, rubbing circles over it, she all but screamed out his name.
"Please, Tom," Diana cried, squeezing her thighs together. "Please, fuck me. I need you to fuck me."
"You've got to be more convincing than that, sweetheart," Tom informed her with a smirk, the circular motions of his fingers becoming more erratic. Diana was trembling underneath his touch.
"I'm begging you, daddy! Tear me apart with that big, hard cock of yours, and fill me up with your cum."
And so he did. Tom used Diana to fuck away all of his sadness, frustration and, ultimately, anger as well.