Dark academic from 2022

#texts from tom hiddleston #tfth #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x female reader

FINALLY A HAPPY ENDING

darkacademicfrom2021 reblogged

Texts from Tom Hiddleston

#im in pain #suffering more and more with this story #i love it #give me the good angst #tom hiddleston #texts from tom hiddleston

31. Okay

Trigger warnings: mentions of miscarriage, blood, hospital.

Tom woke to a hand on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and turned his head to see that it was his sister. “Hey,” she whispered, not wanting to wake you. “How is she?”

Tom looked at you, sleeping soundly next to him. “Okay,” he replied as he softly stroked your arm. “All things considered.”

“And you?” Emma asked him.

He carefully began climbing out of the hospital bed. “I’m just relieved that she’s alright,” he answered.

The movement on the bed caused you to stir. “Tom,” you mumbled looking around for him. When you saw Emma, you jumped and your heart monitor started beeping faster. “Emma! I can explain!”

“Y/n, it’s okay,” Tom tried to calm you as he sat back down on the bed and placed his hand on your back, rubbing gently. “She figured it out at the gala last night.”

“Fuck. Really?” You asked, looking at Emma.

She scrunched her face apologetically, “It was kind of obvious with the way you two were looking at each other.”

You leaned your head back and put your hand over your face in embarrassment. Then you remembered what had happened just before you blacked out. Your head shot back up. “Oh shit. Jill. She knows now too! I’m completely fucked!” Your heart was racing, and that goddamn monitor let the whole room know it.

“You don’t know that,” Tom quickly interjected. “Chelsea was going to talk to Jill last night and try to reason with her.”

As if on cue, Chelsea walked in carrying flowers. “Hey, how are you feeling?” She asked you as she set the flowers down and sat next to you, opposite of Tom.

You were too panicked to answer her, but instead started firing questions at her. “Did you talk to Jill? Am I fucked? I've been sacked, haven’t I? Can I at least say goodbye to the kids when I collect my things?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Chelsea stopped you as she grabbed your shoulders and looked you in the eyes. “You haven’t been sacked. I explained to Jill that you were in a relationship with Tom, but you broke it off in order to keep your job.” Tom cleared his throat and looked down at the ground while Emma fidgeted awkwardly next to him. Chelsea was focused on you, though. “Jill said she'd let you off with a warning as long as the two of you didn’t get involved again.” She looked at you with concern in her eyes, knowing this wasn’t exactly great news.

You were silent for a moment. So much had happened in the last twelve hours and you had barely processed any of it, and yet, you realized the decision was simple. Tears fell from your eyes, in mourning for the job you loved so much but needed to finally let go of.

Tom watched you as he, too, processed what Chelsea had just said. He thought about all the times you were forced to make this decision before; how hard it was on you, and how much harder it must have been when he would try to convince you otherwise. Last night made him realize he would do anything for you, and then he remembered something you had said to him the morning after your first true night together.

“You have to let me go if you expect to keep me.”

“Tom, I—“ you started, but he interrupted you.

“Y/n, it’s okay.” he said as calmly as he could. “I know how much you love your job and I promise I will never get in the way of that again. You have my word.”

Your heart sank. He was over you. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he didn’t want to be with you anymore; that perhaps what you had mistaken for lingering feelings he had for you was merely guilt for getting you pregnant, and pity for your miscarriage. You felt so stupid for assuming otherwise, and you were actually relieved when the doctor came in to speak with you.

“I should go,” Emma said. “But I’m so glad you’re okay, Y/n. If you need anything, even just someone to talk to, let me know.” She turned to Tom. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?” Tom nodded and she left.

“Tom, you can go too,” you told him without looking at him. “I’ll be fine.”

He looked at you, surprised. “Are you sure? I can give you a ride home.”

“I was kind of thinking Chelsea could drive me.” You looked at Chelsea. “Is that okay?”

“Of course, babe,” she replied. You didn’t see it, but she shot Tom an apologetic look.

“Okay, just please don’t hesitate to call or text if you need anything,” he said as he grabbed his jacket.

You still couldn’t look at him. You didn’t want his guilt or his pity. You swallowed hard as more tears fell down your face. “I’ll be fine,” you repeated, and with that, he left.

The doctor cleared her throat, clearly sensing the tension, then proceeded to go through your discharge instructions. The pregnancy, combined with the blood loss, made you extremely anemic, so she would send you home with some iron supplements, and you were to continue to rest at home for at least another 24 hours, and refrain from strenuous activity for two weeks. She also told you that you shouldn’t have sex for two weeks either. That won’t be a problem, you thought.

Finally, she informed you that because they had to remove the ruptured Fallopian tube, your chances of getting pregnant again naturally were cut in half, but you could choose to have the eggs from that ovary frozen, just in case. All you could think about though was how the only person you ever wanted to have a baby with didn’t want you anymore, so you simply nodded and said you’d think about it.

Once the doctor was finished, she handed you your supplements along with a brochure about coping with a miscarriage. You thanked her, and she and Chelsea left you to get dressed. When you were done, you met Chelsea in the hallway and you both walked out to her car in silence.

When you arrived at your house, Chelsea offered to stay, but you waved her off. “I think I need to be alone for a while,” you told her. “I’m probably mostly just going to sleep anyway.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked. “A lot of shit just happened and no one expects you to deal with it all on your own.”

“I know. I appreciate that, Chels,” you told her, touching her arm affectionately. “Go home. Get some rest. I promise I’ll let you know if I need anything, okay? I love you.”

She wrapped you in a tight hug. “Love you too.”

—————————————————————

darkacademicfrom2021 reblogged

Texts from Tom Hiddleston

30. Long Night

Trigger warnings: Miscarriage, blood, hospital, most-likely inaccurate depiction of hospital/medical procedures.

8:00pm

“Jill! Jill, wait!” Tom anxiously watched you chase after your boss, not knowing what to do. Then he saw you keel over in pain, and immediately ran to you.

“Y/n? Y/n! What’s wrong?” he asked frantically. You suddenly seemed out of it, and you weren’t responding. He placed a hand on your back to let you know he was there. “Are you okay?” You started to sway where you stood so Tom grabbed your shoulders in an attempt to stabilize you. Something was very wrong. “Darling, talk to me!” He was practically yelling, trying to get through to you, but in the next second your eyes closed and your knees buckled, slipping out of his grasp as you collapsed on the floor. He kneeled next to you, cupping your face in his hands and shouting your name. You were unresponsive. He pressed two fingers to your neck and leaned down so that his ear hovered just above your mouth. He let out a breath, relieved that your heart was still beating and you were still breathing— for now at least.

He took out his phone and tried calling Chelsea, hoping she would know if there was something going on with you that he didn’t know about, but she didn’t answer. He quickly texted her instead.

Tom set his phone aside and examined you closely. You were getting paler by the second. Just then, Chelsea ran up to where you and Tom were on the ground. “Oh my god, y/n!” Chelsea exclaimed as she crouched down beside you, opposite of Tom. “What the fuck happened?” Tom was about to answer when Emma appeared too.

“Shit,” she cursed as she came up on the scene. “I was wondering what was taking you so long, when I saw Chelsea take off.” She was clearly out of breath from running after Chelsea. “What happened?”

“I don’t know, she just collapsed out of nowhere,” Tom explained to the two of them. “Emma, call an ambulance. Chelsea, has she seemed ill or anything lately?”

Emma quickly made the call, as Chelsea tried to remember anything unusual. “No,” Chelsea answered in a panic. Then she remembered something. “I mean, she said her stomach has been a little sensitive, but there wasn’t anything to indicate something was seriously wrong.”

While they waited for the ambulance, Tom and Chelsea continued to check your vitals and attempt to get you to respond. Meanwhile, Emma had found someone who worked in the building to help her redirect passers by. By the time the paramedics arrived— thankfully only a few minutes later— your pulse had slowed down dramatically. After Tom explained what happened, they asked their standard questions about your basic medical information, most of which Tom or Chelsea could answer, until the last one: “Is she pregnant? Or is there a chance she could be?”

Tom looked at Chelsea and she looked at him, and then they both looked back at the paramedic. “Not that I know of,” they both said in unison.

Having gotten all the information they could, the paramedics lifted you onto a stretcher. It was then that Tom saw the large blood stain on the floor where your lower body had just been, formerly hidden by your black dress. The sight ushered gasps and expletives from Tom, Chelsea, and Emma all at once.

The paramedics quickly carried you away, followed closely by Tom and Chelsea, both of whom raced to their cars as soon as the ambulance doors shut.

———————————————————

9:30pm

“Why the hell would I go? If anything, you should go and I should stay,” Chelsea spat at Tom in the private waiting room at the hospital. You were in surgery at the moment and the nurse had told them once you were out of surgery, there could only be one visitor in your room overnight.

Tom sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, I get that you don’t like me very much right now, but someone needs to try to smooth things over with your boss and make sure Y/n will still have a job when she recovers from this. Not to mention her dogs need to be looked after.” He looked at her more earnestly. “Chelsea, I’m not leaving this hospital until I know Y/n is okay.”

Chelsea’s face fell. “Goddammit. You really love her, don’t you?” she asked.

“Would I be here if I didn’t?” he replied simply.

She rolled her eyes and let out an exaggerated huff, resigning to give in to his request. “Keep me updated about everything and I will be back first thing in the morning,” she told him firmly as she grabbed her bag and left.

A few minutes later, Tom decided to text his sister.

After about an hour and a half, the nurse came back. “She’s out of surgery and she’s stable,” he explained. Tom let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “But she’s just coming out of the anesthesia so it might take her a bit to fully wake up. Would you like to see her?”

“I very much would, thank you,” Tom told the nurse before anxiously following him to your room.

———————————————————

11:00pm

You woke to a steady beeping noise, the feeling of a pair of warm hands on your right forearm, and a soreness in your lower abdomen. You felt extremely groggy, making it hard to open your eyes. After several attempts, you were finally able to open them, only to find yourself in a hospital bed. There was an IV going into your left hand, along with one monitor clipped to your finger and another stuck to your chest.

Suddenly, you heard an all too familiar voice say your name. You looked to your right, still working hard to keep your eyes even halfway open, and you were met with a small, tearful smile from Tom. He was sitting in a chair next to you, leaning on the bed with his hands resting on your arm. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?” He asked in a soft voice. He looked tired, and you noticed he hadn’t even been home to change. His suit jacket was draped over the back of his chair, his sleeves were rolled up, and his tie as well as the top two buttons of his shirt were undone.

You closed your eyes and swallowed, thinking for a moment. “Tired,” you replied horsley. You cleared your throat. “And a bit sore.” You went to put your hand on your belly, and winced at how tender it was, so you placed it back down at your side. You looked back at Tom, confused. “What happened?”

He looked back at you with a look of sadness and concern etched across his face. “You fainted— at the gala.” He lightly rubbed his thumb back and forth over your forearm. “When we couldn’t wake you, we called an ambulance.” He looked down at the floor. “I should let the doctor tell you the rest.” He began to get up from the chair, but you grabbed his hand to stop him.

“I’d rather hear it from you, if that’s okay,” you requested hesitantly. You were more awake now, and your heart was beating slightly faster. Unfortunately, the monitor gave it away.

He sat back down, holding your hand in both of his. “Of course, sweetheart.” Your breath hitched. It had been so long since he had called you that.

“The doctor said you had an ectopic pregnancy,” he began, “meaning the embryo was growing in your fallopian tube instead of your uterus.” He paused to let you process this.

You looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “So the pregnancy wasn’t viable in the first place.” You weren’t asking him, but simply stating the one thing you knew about ectopic pregnancies.

“According to the doctor, yes,” he confirmed quietly. “And then, last night,” he continued shakily, “your Fallopian tube burst, causing you to lose a lot of blood, so they took you in for an emergency surgery.” He squeezed your hand, and you got the feeling that it was just as much for his own comfort as it was for yours. “I assume they’ll give you more details now that you're awake.” His eyes earnestly scanned your face for your reaction.

“Okay,” is all you could say. You continued looking up at the ceiling, a tear falling from the corner of your eye. You were the one to squeeze his hand this time, as you both sat there in silence for a moment. When Tom spoke again, he sounded even more timid than before.

“Y/n, they asked me if I was the father, but I didn’t want to assume…” he trailed off.

You immediately turned your head to look at him, but he was looking down at your hand that he was holding. “There was no one else, Tom,” you told him as more tears fell down your cheeks. He looked back up at you, and you suddenly became overwhelmed with emotion. “I’m sorry,” you choked out, just barely above a whisper, before you began to sob.

“Y/n, y/n, sssshhhhhhhh,” Tom tried to console you as he quickly stood up from the chair and sat on the bed next to you, pulling you forward so you could lean into his chest, and wrapping his arms around you. He stroked your back with one hand, and your hair with the other, softly shushing you as you wept. Some of his own tears fell as well, landing on the top of your head. “You have absolutely nothing to apologize for, okay?” he assured you. You nodded your head against his chest, and he held you like that for a while. As your sobbing subsided, you began to drift off, falling asleep in his arms.

Tom gently laid you back against the inclined bed and began pulling away when you mumbled “Please, stay.” You turned onto your side and he carefully shifted to lay with you so that your body was perfectly cradled in his. He placed one arm under his own head, wrapped the other arm around you, and you both fell asleep.

#texts from tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x female reader #tw ectopic pregnancy #tw miscarriage

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

darkacademicfrom2021 reblogged

Texts from Tom Hiddleston

28. A Break in Routine

Your drunken night with Tom and the resulting rejection completely undid any healing that had happened over the previous weeks. Now you were back to square one: unable to eat, or sleep, or think. This time was different though. You couldn’t help but feel a little angry. Yes, you were the first one to reach out after your initial breakup, but not only was he the one to initiate the following two conversations, he was the one to come over to your house, uninvited, and start kissing you. It wasn’t until he got to come inside you one last time before he decided to tell you he never wanted to see you or speak to you ever again. You knew he was hurting too, but you still felt used and discarded.

When you told Chelsea what happened, she took it pretty well, all things considered.

So you had to do it all again— the crying, the endless hobbies, the television embargo, the pretending you weren’t dying inside when you were at work— and eventually the sharp pain in your chest turned to a dull ache. After roughly a month and half, it was no longer crippling, but still really fucking annoying. By then you had settled into a routine that left you absolutely no time for thinking or drinking, because you didn’t trust yourself with either of those tasks. You’d get up, make some coffee, and take your dogs for a walk. Then you’d go to work, pretend you had no personal connections to any of your students or their families, come home, take your dogs out again, cook some complicated meal for the sole purpose of distraction, learn a new crochet stitch, and then go to sleep with the aid of some mild sedatives. The weekends were pretty much the same, except instead of working, you’d take on some massive and highly unnecessary project around the house in a feeble attempt to get rid of the ghost of your dead relationship.

Despite your religious routine, however, you woke up one day feeling off and you couldn’t put your finger on what it was. You dragged yourself out of bed and trudged to the kitchen, thinking to yourself that you might need an extra cup of coffee today if this keeps up. You started the coffee maker and fed your dogs, wondering if their food always smelled this strong. The coffee maker beeped and you poured yourself a cup. Does coffee go bad? Why did it smell like that? You took a sip, and the second you swallowed, you gagged. You thought it was a one-off, but then you felt your stomach lurch and you ran to the bathroom, heaving into the toilet. What the fuck? You thought about what you had eaten in the last 24 hours, but came up with nothing that would have given you food poisoning, and anyway, this didn’t quite feel like food poisoning.

Actually, it was almost like… no. Not possible. You had an IUD. The chances were less than one percent. Granted, you were supposed to have it replaced a couple of months ago, but you knew those things lasted longer than advertised, and you were in no rush after you broke up with Tom. Then you thought about it more. After you got the IUD your periods were much lighter, but you still got them every month. You tried to remember the last time you had your period. It was a couple of months ago, now that you thought about it, before that night with… fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuucccccckkkkkkkkkk.

You heaved into the toilet once more, then grabbed your keys and ran out the door. You went to the nearest pharmacy, bought 3 different brands of tests, and raced back home, all the while telling yourself that this was crazy and there was no fucking way.

You peed on the three sticks and set a timer on your phone. It was the longest three minutes of your life, during which you started neurotically cleaning your bathroom. When the timer went off, you thought you were going to puke again, this time from nerves. You looked at the tests laid out on your bathroom counter. First one: positive, second one: positive, third one: positive. Shit, shit, shit!

#texts from tom hiddleston #tfth #Tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfiction #Tom hiddleston x you #Tom hiddleston x reader #Tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst

OMG OMG OMGGGG THIS JUST KEEPS GETTING BETTER AND BETTER. I can't wait to see what happens next!!

darkacademicfrom2021 reblogged

Texts from Tom Hiddleston

27. Relapse

Warning: more angst, but also some smut

As the weeks went by, you found that while the pain didn’t lessen at all, it was becoming slightly easier to manage. At work you focused all of your energy on being the best teacher you could be, more than you ever had before, and when you weren’t working you were trying out every hobby you could think of. You avoided the TV like the plague after finding out the hard way that every streaming service you were subscribed to had at least one series or film starring your ex boyfriend. There was one night when you made the idiotic mistake of watching the first Thor movie, only to have a total breakdown as soon as Loki made his first appearance on screen.

What you couldn’t avoid, however, was seeing Emma and Annalise every day at work. At least with Emma, you just had to pretend you were fine for a few minutes at drop-off and pick-up. The hardest part was Anna. Why was it that it wasn’t until after the breakup that you truly noticed how much she resembled her uncle? She had the same curls, the same eyes, and the same smile that he did. You did your best not to treat her any differently than the other kids in your class, but your heart broke a little every time she looked at you. Occasionally she would mention her Uncle Tom and you would have to hide your face and blink back the tears starting to pool in your eyes.

Then one day, she said something about him that actually made you laugh. Your first instinct was to text him and tell him about it, but you didn’t know if you should. What if he hated you and never wanted to hear from you again? What if it reopened wounds that weren’t even barely starting to heal yet? Then again, what if talking to each other again was exactly what you needed to be able to heal properly; to learn how to just be friends again? You grappled with yourself all day over it until you were lying awake in bed, and by some stroke of either bravery or stupidity, you decided to text him.

Despite the inevitable tears that streaked across your face, you smiled to yourself as you set your phone down. Yes, it was awkward, and yes, he didn’t exactly seem ecstatic to hear from you, but at least for a moment it felt like normal again, giving you hope that maybe he could still be a part of your life, however small that part may be.

—————————————————————

As excited as Tom was to hear from you again, he attempted to play it cool. After all, it wasn’t like you were getting back together, you were just trying to reach out to him as a nice gesture— at least that was what he was going to tell himself.

Following your conversation, he decided he wouldn’t text you again unless you messaged him first. Given that he was now busy working again, he figured it was a reasonable goal. However, only a few days passed until he couldn’t resist any longer.

Tom was incredibly distracted through that evening’s rehearsal. Why did you still affect him like this? Eventually the director called it for the night, and Tom, not wanting to go home just yet, invited everyone to go out for drinks.

———————————————————-

Your conversation with Tom that day made you annoyingly giddy. You had to keep reminding yourself that this was supposed to be you and Tom salvaging your friendship, and nothing more. After about an hour of trying not to think too hard about it, you conceded to having a few beers while attempting to take another stab at your latest hobby for a distraction. Four beers and three crochet tutorials later, you got a text from none other than the man from whom you were trying to distract yourself.

You were in the middle of typing that you were glad he was getting home safely when you heard a knock on your door. Your heart stopped. It couldn’t be…

You opened the door, and Tom grabbed your face and kissed you, desperately. Your mind went blank in an instant as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him back with the same desperation. It was sloppy and rough, and you both smelled like alcohol, but you didn’t care. You quickly rid him of his shirt and he did the same for you, immediately grabbing your tits as you hadn’t been wearing a bra. Then he lifted your legs up, hooked them around his waist, and carried you to the sofa. He laid you down on your back and pulled your shorts and panties off as quickly as he could before settling between your legs and kissing and biting your neck. You threaded your fingers into his hair and moaned into his ear. He sat up briefly to pull his erection out of his pants, then lined himself up with your dripping pussy while he brought his face back down to yours. He kissed you hard on the lips as he pushed his cock into you, causing you to gasp into his mouth. His thrusts were hard and fast, slamming into you while you both gasped and moaned. It didn’t take long at all before you felt your climax crash over you. “Oh fuck, baby! Oh god, yes!” you cried. He moaned your name in response and you felt his cock throb as he came deep inside of you.

You stayed like that for a moment, both panting, with his forehead pressed to yours, his eyes closed. “Fuck,” he huffed as he pulled out of you and quickly stood up and tucked himself back into his pants. You sat up and looked at him concerned.

“Tom,” is all you said. You honestly didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do this,” he said quietly, not looking at you.

“I know,” you replied timidly. “We shouldn’t have let this happen.”

He picked up his shirt and put it on, still not looking at you. “I don’t just mean the sex,Y/N. I need to get over you, and I can’t do that if we keep talking like we have been.”

Your eyes began to sting as they welled up with tears. “But I need you in my life, Tom, even if it’s just a text here and there. I can’t lose you so completely like that.”

He was halfway to the door when he stopped and looked over his shoulder, but his eyes still didn’t meet yours. “And I can’t keep letting you break my heart over and over like this.” And with that, he left.

#texts from tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston texts #text stories #text story #tfth #tom hiddleston x you

How dare you give me hope and take it away so suddenly like that 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I swear these two are going to kill me. They need to get it together!!

darkacademicfrom2021 reblogged

Texts from Tom Hiddleston

26. Aftermath

As the sun came up on Sunday morning, mere hours after his final text to you, Tom simply stared out the window from where he lay in bed. For the second night in a row, he hadn’t slept. Bobby jumped up onto the bed and nudged Tom’s arm with his nose, hoping to go for a run.

“Sorry, old boy. Not today,” Tom said flatly, tears rolling down his face. Bobby simply laid down next to him, letting out a small whine as he did so. Tom turned onto his back and stared at the ceiling. He had no idea how he was going to get through this. He’d been through many breakups before, but none of them felt like this. His chest felt like it might crack in half, he had no interest in eating despite hardly eating anything the day before, and just getting out of bed felt like a monumental task. When his phone chirped on the bedside table, he jumped and grabbed it as fast as he could, hoping it was you. It wasn’t. When he saw it was a group message from his sisters, he almost turned his phone off, not wanting to talk to anyone, but he knew that if he didn’t respond, they might come looking for him, and he just couldn’t bear to be around anyone today.

So it was settled. Today he would wallow in self-pity, and tomorrow he would force himself to get out of bed, call his agent, and get back to work— the only thing he could think of that could possibly distract him from the pain of losing you.

—————————————————————

You called in sick to work that Monday. Seeing as though you hadn’t slept in days and you couldn’t stop crying, you didn’t think it would be wise to be supervising small children. You also wanted to give yourself one more day to prepare yourself for seeing Emma and Annalise, because the next time you saw them you had to pretend that you hadn’t just shattered your own heart over Emma’s very own brother— that you hadn’t just shattered his as well.

Fuck. You didn’t know what was killing you more, the fact that you couldn’t be with him, or the memory of his face when you first told him that you needed to end things. You were in constant conflict with yourself. You would find yourself wanting to take it back, thinking nothing was worth this excruciating pain, but then reminding yourself that it was for the best, for the sake of him, for his family, as well as for your job. The pain would pass. God, you hoped it would pass. You didn’t know how long you could take it…

It wasn’t long after you called in sick that Chelsea texted you.

You were never more thankful that Chelsea knew about you and Tom than in that moment. You didn’t know how you would get through this without some help.