Tom Hiddleston's One-shots (500 words or less)

House Hunter Has Her Heart Hunted

A/N: Oh boy, my first ever attempt in writing some kind of more "suggestive" stuff but jeez it's soooo hard to write XD All those smut writers out there, I salute you!!!!

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"So Mr. Hiddleston, why are you selling your house?" I clear my throat, absent-mindedly swirling the cold tea in my cup. My mind is frantically trying to pull me back.

I've been too distracted by him, and the way he talks, ever since I've entered this place. I expected this to be a rather short visit, just to get a feel of the house to see if I'd like to buy it, but somehow it has turned into a nice, leisurely chat over biscuits and tea with this gorgeous man.

The fact is, we're squished together at the quaint little kitchen table – our knees are brushing against each other's (not that he's making any efforts to sit modestly anyway) and it's making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on why I'm here in the first place. I didn't think too much of it at first, until he lets his hand linger on my knee after patting it twice previously when we're laughing at some of the many jokes and stories we share. It doesn't only send a spark on my skin, but the jolts of electricity shoots through my spine like an uncontrollable wildfire.

He leans forward and whispers into my ear, "First off, I like it...livelier. But it's too...quiet here."

With him saying "here" ever so softly, he blows hot air into my ear and gives me goosebumps all over.

"Ah..." I swallow hard, not knowing how to respond. "I see. An – and?"

A hint of smirk creeps up the corners of his lips as he leans back into the chair, looking satisfied with the effect he has on me. Finally he says, "I don't know...the first floor never feels right for me." He stands up, "Come, let me show you. Perhaps you'll like it instead."

Not understanding what he's getting at, I follow his lead. I haven't seen the other floor, but I'm seeing plenty of things I like – the owner of the house is obviously a fan of form-fitting trousers, and definitely well aware of his attractiveness. I tear my eyes away from his butt so that I can find out what's "not right" about this floor, but I don't see anything wrong. It's rather nice instead.

"Here's the master bedroom," he shows me the biggest room on this floor. "You know what, if you're interested, I can let you keep the bed too." He strides toward the king-sized bed, doubles over and presses on the mattress. "It's only two years old, and it fits the room perfectly. Try it out!" He invites.

Gingerly and politely I press my hand on the mattress, an action he mirrors back with his face three inches from mine. He's obviously reading my expression. "What do you think?" He's doing that seductive whisper thing again.

"It's...n-nice." I stammer.

He further closes the gap between us, his breath dangerously over my neck. "Don't you know you need to lie on it to find out?"

Damn, that's the last straw I can take.