Status: One Shot
He's Sure the Boy I Love
One Shot
I always dreamed the boy I loved would come along
And he'd be tall and handsome, rich and strong.
Now that boy I love has come to me,
But he sure ain't the way I thought he'd be.
He doesn't look like a movie star,
He doesn't drive a Cadillac car,
He sure ain't yhe boy I've been dreamin' of,
But he's sure the boy I love.
Let me tell ya now,
He' never be a big business man
He always buys on the installment plan
He sure ain't the boy I been dreamin' of,
But he's sure the boy I love.
When he holds me tight,
Everythings right,
Crazy as it seems,
I'm his, whatever he is,
And I forget all of my dreams,
And everybody knows...
He doesn't hang diamonds round my neck,
And all he's got's an unemployment check
He sure ain't the boy I been dreamin' of,
But he's sure the boy I love.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Oh no, put that thing away right now.” I warned him with a stern look as he opened the box.
Tom only chuckled and put one cigarette between his lips, lighting it.
Immediately, the scent of tobacco filled my nostrils and I coughed. Waving the smoke out of my sight, I tried to draw his attention towards my dislike for his new hobby, but as I did so, his grin only widened and he took another puff.
That smug bastard.
“Seriously, Tom, you know I can’t smell that, so when you’re in my house, you should keep those stems inside your pocket.”
Walking through from the other side of the living room to where he sat, I stood myself in front of him, folding my arms. “Stub out the cigarette.”
Again, he only grinned at me, then took another breath.
“I said stub out the fuckin’ cigarette!” I reached out to get the stupid little suicide machine, but he stopped me with his splayed out hand on my belly.
“Make me.”
For him, it was all a game.
“Tom, I’m being serious.”
“Believe me, I know that.” He laughed.
“Stop smoking.”
“It’s only a cigarette, darling.” He smiled, too sweet.
“Stop smoking or I’m going to stick my hand down your throat and pull your dick off from the inside!” I cried, making a fist and beating against his chest.
“Wow, okay! Calm down, Phoebe.” Tom jumped up, all 6 feet 5 inches, shielding himself before me. “It’s only a cigarette.”
“No, that’s the point – it is a cigarette, and I won’t calm down until you—“
“Here” He pressed the cigarette against his palm, making me gasp. “See? I’ve stubbed it out. I’ve stubbed the fucking cigarette out. Are you happy now?”
My eyes widened when he held the hot stem in his hand; he was mad – I knew without looking at him.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” I whispered.
“Oh yeah? I think I did, and I did pretty well.” He replied sarcastically.
“You could have—“
“I could have what? Gone out into the garden and blown it out there? Or smoked before I came here?”
“Y—Yes.”
“Yes! Of course, I could have. But know what,” Tom leaned down, lips only an inch away from mine, “I don’t care. And you know why?”
My heart sank, because I was afraid I already knew his answer.
“Because I don’t care about this" He pointed, first at me, then at himself, then back again, "anymore.”
He then left, but the scent of his cigarette – mixed with his sweat as well as his cologne – was still there.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
A few weeks later, I saw him in the park near the stone fountain, cozily sucking on his beer bottle. He was alone, so I took the opportunity – and all my shit together – and walked up to him.
Tom noticed me not a second later and immediately stopped drinking. He licked his lips, pulled the bottle aside and lowered his gaze.
He didn’t want to see me.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Phoebe.” He announced monotonous.
I nodded and sat down beside him, looking at my hands that were folded in my lap.
I had just wanted to see him.
Okay, maybe I had planned on properly excusing my behavior and that I missed him – his smile, his laugh, the way he had made me feel when he had kissed me or his masculine scent I had woken up to whenever he had stayed the night…
I didn’t say a word to him, but my actions spoke volumes, I think – I reached out slowly, my fingers carefully groping his hand.
“Don’t—“ he whispered.
“I’m so sorry” I replied instantly, withdrawing my hand, afraid I had already gotten too far.
But — suddenly, I felt his fingers around my wrist. I raised my head and looked at him, fear gripping my heart.
His thumb was stroking over the back of my hand then, and a sad smile was on his lips.
“Don’t go” he whispered and then kissed me, as if everything was forgiven, everything forgotten, everything as it had been before, as if nothing had ever happened.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
We had been going home quickly after the first kiss.
Tom had touched my body in several places even before I had been able to unlock my apartment’s door, and I had almost broke the key when he had pressed his hand against my groin and made me moan shamelessly.
Once the door had been closed, he had swooped me up in his arms and carried me to my bedchamber; he had undressed me ever so slowly, kissing each part he exposed, and soon he had lain above me and breathed next to my ear, whispering my name over and over while he had gyrated his hips and I had met each of his thrusts with my own until neither of us had been able to hold back anymore and lose ourselves in the pleasure, in each other’s arms.
Now, he was half asleep, one arm put around my shoulder, head resting on my bare chest, a leg draped over mine and his other hand stroking between my legs lazily.
I felt as if my heart would burst, because right at that moment I knew.
He’s sure the boy I love.
And he'd be tall and handsome, rich and strong.
Now that boy I love has come to me,
But he sure ain't the way I thought he'd be.
He doesn't look like a movie star,
He doesn't drive a Cadillac car,
He sure ain't yhe boy I've been dreamin' of,
But he's sure the boy I love.
Let me tell ya now,
He' never be a big business man
He always buys on the installment plan
He sure ain't the boy I been dreamin' of,
But he's sure the boy I love.
When he holds me tight,
Everythings right,
Crazy as it seems,
I'm his, whatever he is,
And I forget all of my dreams,
And everybody knows...
He doesn't hang diamonds round my neck,
And all he's got's an unemployment check
He sure ain't the boy I been dreamin' of,
But he's sure the boy I love.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
“Oh no, put that thing away right now.” I warned him with a stern look as he opened the box.
Tom only chuckled and put one cigarette between his lips, lighting it.
Immediately, the scent of tobacco filled my nostrils and I coughed. Waving the smoke out of my sight, I tried to draw his attention towards my dislike for his new hobby, but as I did so, his grin only widened and he took another puff.
That smug bastard.
“Seriously, Tom, you know I can’t smell that, so when you’re in my house, you should keep those stems inside your pocket.”
Walking through from the other side of the living room to where he sat, I stood myself in front of him, folding my arms. “Stub out the cigarette.”
Again, he only grinned at me, then took another breath.
“I said stub out the fuckin’ cigarette!” I reached out to get the stupid little suicide machine, but he stopped me with his splayed out hand on my belly.
“Make me.”
For him, it was all a game.
“Tom, I’m being serious.”
“Believe me, I know that.” He laughed.
“Stop smoking.”
“It’s only a cigarette, darling.” He smiled, too sweet.
“Stop smoking or I’m going to stick my hand down your throat and pull your dick off from the inside!” I cried, making a fist and beating against his chest.
“Wow, okay! Calm down, Phoebe.” Tom jumped up, all 6 feet 5 inches, shielding himself before me. “It’s only a cigarette.”
“No, that’s the point – it is a cigarette, and I won’t calm down until you—“
“Here” He pressed the cigarette against his palm, making me gasp. “See? I’ve stubbed it out. I’ve stubbed the fucking cigarette out. Are you happy now?”
My eyes widened when he held the hot stem in his hand; he was mad – I knew without looking at him.
“You shouldn’t have done that.” I whispered.
“Oh yeah? I think I did, and I did pretty well.” He replied sarcastically.
“You could have—“
“I could have what? Gone out into the garden and blown it out there? Or smoked before I came here?”
“Y—Yes.”
“Yes! Of course, I could have. But know what,” Tom leaned down, lips only an inch away from mine, “I don’t care. And you know why?”
My heart sank, because I was afraid I already knew his answer.
“Because I don’t care about this" He pointed, first at me, then at himself, then back again, "anymore.”
He then left, but the scent of his cigarette – mixed with his sweat as well as his cologne – was still there.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
A few weeks later, I saw him in the park near the stone fountain, cozily sucking on his beer bottle. He was alone, so I took the opportunity – and all my shit together – and walked up to him.
Tom noticed me not a second later and immediately stopped drinking. He licked his lips, pulled the bottle aside and lowered his gaze.
He didn’t want to see me.
“I don’t want to talk to you right now, Phoebe.” He announced monotonous.
I nodded and sat down beside him, looking at my hands that were folded in my lap.
I had just wanted to see him.
Okay, maybe I had planned on properly excusing my behavior and that I missed him – his smile, his laugh, the way he had made me feel when he had kissed me or his masculine scent I had woken up to whenever he had stayed the night…
I didn’t say a word to him, but my actions spoke volumes, I think – I reached out slowly, my fingers carefully groping his hand.
“Don’t—“ he whispered.
“I’m so sorry” I replied instantly, withdrawing my hand, afraid I had already gotten too far.
But — suddenly, I felt his fingers around my wrist. I raised my head and looked at him, fear gripping my heart.
His thumb was stroking over the back of my hand then, and a sad smile was on his lips.
“Don’t go” he whispered and then kissed me, as if everything was forgiven, everything forgotten, everything as it had been before, as if nothing had ever happened.
~ * ~ * ~ * ~
We had been going home quickly after the first kiss.
Tom had touched my body in several places even before I had been able to unlock my apartment’s door, and I had almost broke the key when he had pressed his hand against my groin and made me moan shamelessly.
Once the door had been closed, he had swooped me up in his arms and carried me to my bedchamber; he had undressed me ever so slowly, kissing each part he exposed, and soon he had lain above me and breathed next to my ear, whispering my name over and over while he had gyrated his hips and I had met each of his thrusts with my own until neither of us had been able to hold back anymore and lose ourselves in the pleasure, in each other’s arms.
Now, he was half asleep, one arm put around my shoulder, head resting on my bare chest, a leg draped over mine and his other hand stroking between my legs lazily.
I felt as if my heart would burst, because right at that moment I knew.
He’s sure the boy I love.
♠ ♠ ♠
Title song: The CrystalsYou can find more of my stories about Tom Hiddleston on tumblr, as well (shipperstoriesstuff) ☺