lokiswarriorprincess:

tasteofhiddles:

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he says as you shuffle into the kitchen. You rub your eyes at the brightness of the sunlight - which is pouring in through the open windows - bouncing off of every surface, effectively blinding you. Tom smiles, his expression a mixture of amusement and curiosity. You come over to where he is lounging at the dining table and he opens his arms, inviting you in.

You crawl onto his lap and he shifts so that you are curled up against him comfortably, his long arms wrapped around you. You lift your head to kiss him, but a yawn overtakes you and he laughs loudly, his tongue wedging between his teeth.

“Sleep okay?” he asks and kisses your temple instead. You chuckle and nod, letting out a groggy moan. “There’s coffee ready if you’d like some.”

“I would love a cup,” you say, feeling yourself perk up at the thought of that delicious liquid energy. He pats your leg and you maneuver yourself off of him so he can stand. He pulls you in then for a proper kiss, his mouth soft and familiar, one warm palm coming up to your cheek.

He traces your jaw with the back of his hand, and tilts your chin up so he can look into your eyes. His are bright, full of energy and life; a pool of greens and blues that change with his mood. You can’t help a fluttering in the pit of your stomach when he looks at you like this. Especially first thing in the morning, when his curly mess of hair is still tussled from the night before, and his loose fitting clothes hang so perfectly on his tall, lean, frame. 

“I love you, Mrs. Hiddleston,” he whispers, and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. Your eyes close as you smile and wrap your arms around his slender waist. He hugs you tightly and rocks side to side in a silly little dance before stopping with a chuckle and offering you an adorable wink. “Now how about that coffee?”

I’m crying…