Insecure - Tom Hiddleston Imagines Geared Towards Battling Insecurities

"Too Tall", "Too Short"

"T o o T a l l"

"I got you a present," Tom tells you as you come in from work. You raise your eyebrows.

"Oh no, is this another 'I-made-pudding-to-last-us-for-days' gifts?" He chuckles.

"No, although that wouldn't hurt." He takes out a silver gift bag, the handles tied together with sparkling ribbon. "I knew you were getting stressed at the office, so I went shopping."

You smile and kiss his forehead, admiring his thoughtfulness. With excitement, you undo the bow of the ribbon and open the bag.

"Ooo, intriguing," you comment as a shoe-box comes into view. As you open it, your enthusiastic face disappears as a pair of shiny, cherry-red high heels are revealed.

  Why on earth would he buy these?! You were already 6'3", already taller than him. The heels would make you tower over him by an additional three inches.

Throughout school, you were one of the tallest people. Elementary school, middle school, high school, college, you surpassed them all, able to see over their heads as they walked to classes. For years, you had to endure the jokes, every "How's the weather up there?," every "Hey, Long-Legs!," every, "Yo, Tree-Trunks!" Even the teachers had to look up to you as they spoke.

"How nice," you respond with little enthusiasm. Tom's eyes soften.

"You don't like them, do you? I knew I should have gotten the ones!" You shake your head.

"No, no, it's not the color."

"Then what's wrong? I thought you liked shoes. And it's from (your favorite store). Plus, I thought you would like a pair."

"Tom, I'm already too tall. Why would I want to start orbiting the earth with these things?" He looks at you in confusion.

"'Too tall?' Whatever gave you that idea?"

"Hmm, I don't know. Maybe it's because I can already see the top of your head, maybe it's because I'm mistaken for a basketball's wife and not one of an actor, maybe it's because—"

"I feel so protected to have you by my side?" Tom completes. "That when I get hated from playing Loki and told that I overacted my part, I know you're right there to pounce? That you're all set to defend me? If that's being 'too tall,' then give me another two feet, please." You look at you lap as Tom takes your hand into his. "I wanted to show off the best wife I could ever ask for. I wasn't trying to make you feel ashamed or to make fun of you."

~

"T o o S h o r t"

"Flight 5412 will be landing shortly." You were waiting in anticipation at the gate. After three months, you couldn't wait to spend a month with your boyfriend. Emails, hour long phone calls, not even Skype dates could compare to his embrace, to his touch, to purely him.

You stand on your tiptoes, trying to make see your way through the crowd that started to grow around you. But the further you tried, the more people concealed you. Giving up, you work your way out of the crowd and toward the baggage claim when a pair of strong arms scooped you up from the waist, your feet no longer touching the ground.

"I thought you wanted to see me," Tom joked as he turned you around. You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck. He sets you back down, you pointing your toes to land with more ease.

 This is what I get for not wearing heels.

Later that day, the media released pictures of Tom's homecoming and your shared hug. You knew that he was taller than you, but you never realized how short you looked compared to him. There was definitely at least a foot gap!

"Did Tom Hiddleston find his girlfriend at the Lollipop Guild?" one comment asked.

"I don't see it. Why, Tom?"

The comments got worse and worse, and with each one, you wanted to cry. They're right. Why would Tom want to date a munchkin, an Oompa Loompa?

"(Y/N)?" You look up, and there was Tom, his guitar strapped to him. You smile, but there was still some sadness behind it. He stood over you as you sat on the couch, you needing to look almost straight up to meet his eyes.

"I want to show you something." Sitting down next to you, he starts playing, and the familiar chords get you genuinely smiling. You loved John Legend, and You and I had been the song playing when you went out for your first dinner date.

"Ain't nobody in the world but you...and I..." he finishes with a chuckle.

"You've been working on that?"

"Yeah, and I was almost done, but then that article came out. I figured you needed the extra support." Rubbing your arm, you looked down at your lap.

"But maybe there's some merit to—"

"No," he firmly states, lifting up your chin to meet his eyes. "I don't care if you're five feet, five meters, or five inches, the main thing is if you're mine." He takes hold of you, your head resting on his chest.

"You hear that?" You nod. There was a steady thumping, the rhythmic sound of his heart. "It beats only for you. And if you listen closely, it's calling your name. It's not asking you to meet height requirements, because, darling, this is one romantic ride that doesn't ask for that. It only asks that you love me back."