Tom Hiddleston & Loki Imagines (xReader)

Tom: Who?

Your mug of steaming coffee sat on the coffee table, forgotten.

While you didn't have to go to work tomorrow, you did have to turn in the quarterly report by 8 AM. It was originally your partner's job to have this done, but he'd been reassigned literally last-minute... as in, this morning. So, as the only available person, the report was left to you.

It was a long, detailed report. Because your boss loved long, detailed reports. He'd better hope he wasn't around when you dropped it off—otherwise, when he went to pick it up to read it, you were going to stab him.

"(Y/N)?"

You heard your best friend calling for you as he tromped down the stairs. "Living room," you yelled back, focusing on the laptop screen.

The soft pad-pad-pad of Tom's stocking feet on hardwood floor stopped right behind you. "What? You're still working?"

You flexed your fingers and continued to type. "Mhm. This is due tomorrow."

Tom leaned over your shoulder, eyeing the financial report. "Can't you take a break? Even a short one?"

"No."

He dropped himself onto the couch beside you. You just barely saw his jeans, grey t-shirt, and curly hair out of the corner of your eye.

"Not even for tea?" he asked solemnly.

"No."

Tom's sucked in a gasp of mock astonishment. His eyes widened like a stunned child's. "Not even for pudding?"

You pulled up an empty flow chart and began to fill it in. "I'm sorry, Tom. I can't. We'll have a tea party later, 'kay?"

He frowned. "No. Not okay." Taking on a look of determination, he leaned over again and snatched the laptop from you. "Not okay in the slightest."

"Hey! I kind of, I don't know, need that! Give it back!"

"All work and no play makes (Y/N) a dull girl. I didn't drive all the way over here to watch you work out company finances."

"I'm serious, Tom!" You lunged for your computer, missing and faceplanting onto the couch.

"I'm serious, too. You've been working for hours on someone else's project. You need to take a break. And I..." Tom held the laptop over his head, easily keeping out of your reach, "...need a partner for my tea party."

You jumped a few times, making desperate grabs for your stolen property. Curse his 6'2"-ness and long arms! "Please! That's important!"

"Is it?" Turning his back to you, he looked at the screen. "Let's see. Hm... numbers... budgets... charts... big office words..." You tried to reach around him, but he spun away, effortlessly keeping the laptop just out of grasp. "Statistics... more big office words... This is giving me a dreadful headache, darling. And I'm not sorry to say that it fails the Hiddleston Test of Importance."

So saying, he moved his index finger to hover over the power button.

You squeaked in horror. "Tom, no!"

"Tom, yes!"

"Don't you dare—!"

He ehehehe-d, and down went the finger. "Boop!"

"THOMAS!!!"

The "Powering Down" dialogue appeared. He finally allowed you to rescue the laptop right as the screen went black.

"Tommmm," you growled.

"(Y/NNN)," he growled right back.

He's such a child that you accidentally laughed. But then you dropped your head onto the keyboard with a defeated groan. He was going to have his fun, and you knew you weren't getting out of it. "I can't believe you."