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Surreal Moments	By : HobNobsAndTea Category: Individual Celebrities > Tom Hiddleston Views: 2311 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: None of the writers recieve any money for these stories. They are written for the enjoyment of the readers. No copyrite infringement intended.

Chapter List
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Tom is studying for a role. You see him every day in the library. Most of the other library patrons don't recognize him. But you do. You've done your best not to fangirl over him or even make it obvious you notice him. After a week, you notice him noticing you. When the two of you finally, interact, you're crouched down, getting a book off the bottom shelf. You stand up, bumping into someone reaching a book above you. "Oh sorry."

"No, I'm so sorry." You clutch the book to your chest and turn. He smiles. "I'm Tom."

"I know." He laughs. "I'm (y/n)."

"I've seen you." He folds the book between his forearm and upper arm. "Would you like to get some coffee?"

"Sure." Your heart is in your throat.

"I, um- I get off in an hour," you stutter looking at your watch. Tom smiles and slides his free hand into his pocket. "I can't wait." His voice emanates from him better than any interview video you'd ever watched with him. "I'll just be over there, then." Tom points to an empty chair across the room and you see his book title, The Great Gatsby.

You nod as he smiles at you again, before taking a step back and toward his spot. How you were ever going to make it through the next hour was beyond you at this point. You dial your babysitter. "Hey, Amy. Can you stay a couple hours extra?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"I met a friend at the library and we're going out for coffee."

"Ohhhhh. Sure, Jason isn't picking me up for another couple hours so we're good."

"Thank so so much. You have no idea how much."

She laughs and hangs up. You turn practically into Tom. "Everything alright?"

"Yea just had to call the sitter."

"You have children?"

"Two actually." He casually looks down at your hands. "There's a coffee shop a couple blocks away. We can walk."

"It's a lovely afternoon. Of course." He waits for to to get your bag then offers you his arm. As you walk toward the shop, Tom speaks up. "So, tell me about yourself...as cliché as that sounds!"

You both laugh but you respond after a few giggles. "There's not too much to tell, really. I'm a librarian, duh. I've always loved books and reading. I like to do things in the weekends that most people my age find quite boring. Like watch my daughter practice ballet and my son build robots with these little kits his grandfather gets for him. I like a good red wine occasionally... I don't know. I'm quite simple to be honest!" You confess. You begin to feel terribly awkward, walking with a world-class movie star and telling him about how boring your life was.

He didn't act deterred though. "That sounds wonderful actually! Not boring at all. It sounds like a lovely home for them both. Would you tell me more about them?"

Being a gentleman, he opens the door for you. "Hey, iced chai latte?"

"Extra extra large."

The girl behind the counter smiles. "And you?"

"Earl Grey with milk and sugar." You pay for the drinks, already having your card out before he reaches for his wallet. He gestures to you with it. "My treat next time."

Next time? Oh man, this was not happening. How are you freaking keeping calm? This is TOM HIDDLESTON. You lead him to a booth by the window.

The subject of your kids momentarily forgotten, you settle in across from him. "You've been reading a lot of turn of the century American literature. Is it for a role?"

"Yes, actually. I'm playing an immigrated American literature professor."

"Fantastic! I'm doing my dissertation on the psychology of modern American poets, so if you need help with anything, just ask."

"Wow. Dissertation? What are you going to school for?"

"I've got two years left on my master's in psychology."

"Wow. You're absolutely amazing." You blush. "No really. You're a mother, a librarian AND a student. Your husband must be very proud."

The girl behind the counter brings your teas. "No, no husband." You take a wonderful sip. "Jimmy didn't want kids. He waited until after we had two to decide this. Last I heard, he was up on a crab boat in Alaska." You shrug. "I'm sorry. I don't know why I told you that."

"No worries. I've heard I'm incredibly easy to talk to."

"I can believe that." You give him a look. He smiles before taking another sip of his tea. "Tell me about your children. I'd love to hear about them."

Just thinking about them made you smile. "Well, Jameson is five and Marie is three. Jameson loves all things science and reading and math. And Marie is the pinkest, fluffiest, girliest girl you will ever meet. They are the best things I could ever hope to happen to me...regardless of how much they make me pull my hair out sometimes." You finish with a laugh. You look over at Tom and find him looking at you almost with reverence. It made you a little anxious, so you looked away and into your drink. "They sound absolutely amazing."

You can't help but smile and look at him again. "They are." You move on to other topics for a while: Tom's family, his latest role as a professor now, your love of travel, before you look at your watch. "Oh my god, I have got to go. I've got to get home! I didn't realize how late it had gotten!" You stand quickly and grab your bag as Tom leaps up from his own seat.

"Let's go, then, love." You have a momentary lapse in brain activity. Tom Hiddleston just called you 'love'. As you rush out the door with him, you shake your head. There was no way that actually happened, right? That's just what British people called each other, yeah...

"Amy!" The screen bangs open. The setting sun had the living room on fire. You could hear bubbly pop music blaring from the den. No doubt you'd have a huge mess to clean up after the kids went to bed.

Tom looks around your living room, finding it spotless despite having two youngsters. Baby pictures and black and white landscape and architectural photography cover the walls. He notices a glass cabinet of thimbles. You drop your purse, latching the screen door behind him. "Amy! I'm so sorry!" He follows you through the house. A dining room table covered in books dominates one room. Two small children explode through a doorway and tackle you.

"Mommy!" You bend over, giving love and kisses and hugs. When you bend over, your supple rear accidently brushes his hand. You both pretend not to notice. Standing up, you lift Marie up and position her on your hip.

"You're late."

"I'm so sorry. We lost track of time."

Jason helps Amy stand up from the pile of blocks. "You're lucky you're my favorite sister."

"Shut up, you." He kisses your cheek. "This your friend?"

Tom takes his hand and shakes it firmly. "Tom."

"Jason."

"I'm sorry, mate. I talked her ear off."

Jason shrugs. "I was just giving her a hard time. You have sisters?"

"Two. One older, one younger."

"You know how it is then." They share a manly, brotherly inside joke laugh. You roll your eyes. This was so surreal.

Jason and Amy leave in a whirlwind of kisses and hugs. You open the fridge and start pulling out items for dinner.

"Thanks so much for the ride."

"Not a problem."

"Would you like to stay for dinner?" The words were out of your mouth before you realized it.

Jameson runs in holding his Thor reading book. "Mommy. Your friend looks like Loki!" You blush.

"Well look at that." He kneels. "I do. You're very perceptive."

He smiles proudly. "That means I notice things."

"It sure does."

"Jay, go turn off the music and start picking up your toys."

"Yes, momma."

You place the skillet on the stove. "It's nothing special. Just grilled cheese, green beans and pretzels. Marie picked."

Tom watches you butter bread and open a couple cans of green beans. "I wouldn't want to be an imposition."

"You're not. But if you need to go, I understand."

"I actually do need to be going." He looks at his watch. "Skype meeting with the studio."

You turn and lean your back against the counter. "This afternoon was fun."

"It was. See you tomorrow?"

"I'll be there."

He taps the counter with both hands then let's himself out. You're in a daze as you finish fixing dinner. This whole afternoon was a hallucination. Had to be. Fangirl fantasy gone wild. You smirk to yourself. No, fangirl fantasy gone wild would be fucking him on one of the tables after the library was closed. Shit. Now, you were gonna think about it all night.

After dinner, you start picking up the playroom, at least attempting to clean up. It never stayed clean for long, though. As you work, Jameson and Marie peek in on you with an expectant look in their eyes. You look up at them and give in. "What is it, babies?"

Marie speaks up first. "Can we watch the 'For' movie?" She still had trouble pronouncing words correctly, and you wondered if you should speak to someone about it soon. You cross one arm and bring the other hand up to tap your chin. "I don't know, guys...don't you think it's kinda scary?"

"We promise we won't get scared! We won't!" Jameson begs.

"Hmm, I don't know, guys."

Marie chirps. "Please, mommy? Jay said your fwiend wooks wike 'Wo-ki' and I wanna see too."

You sigh. A little bit before it got too scary couldn't hurt. "Okay, come on." You wave them in and take the DVD down from the shelf. They come running in and jump on the couch, excited. "But only a little bit, okay? Bedtime is in 30 minutes!" They nod at your admission as you set the timer in your phone.

Settling down beside them, you press play. Marie cuddles into your lap and Jameson hugs your arm. You kiss them both on the tops of their heads. As the movie plays on, the coronation scene starts. Loki comes on screen and Jameson points at the screen. "See look, Marie! That's what mommy's friend looks like!" He exclaims.

Marie matches his excitement. "It does wook wike him, mommy!"

You laugh and shake your head. "Do you really think so? I don't think so at all!"

Marie turns around in your lap and places her small hand in your cheek and points to the TV. "Mommy, wook! He does wook wike him! He's vewy pwetty."

You wrinkle your nose at her. "Do you think so? I think he looks silly, with those horns and everything."

You're all interrupted by the chime of the bedtime alarm, and you stop the movie. Jameson and Marie both groan, but know there's no way to protest. You had taught them early on that 'what momma says is the rules', and they hop up from the couch. They both get ready for bed. You tuck Marie in first. "Good night, sweetie, I love you." You hug her.

"Mommy? Wiw we see your new fwiend again?" You pause. You weren't even a little sure if that would be the case. "Well...maybe one day. You never know what could happen." Hell, it was true. You never thought you'd see Tom Hiddleston in your library. Let alone go get coffee with him.

Marie's voice draws you from your thoughts. "I hope so. He was vewy nice and hamsome."

You laugh at her. She was so innocent. "Do you know what handsome means?"

Marie bites her lip and shakes her head. "No. But you use it a wot, so it's a good word, right?"

You stand from her bed and kiss her forehead one more time. "Yes, it is a good word. Now go to sleep." You start out the door and turn the light out as Marie calls out, "I wove you, mommy."

"I love you too, sweetheart."
The day had been warm enough at the start to wear a sundress. You picked the white one with cherries on it and grabbed a red sweater for the chill in the library air conditioning. You wore your matching heels. Shortly after you opened the doors, your regulars came in straggling in. You had story time for the toddlers, followed by the preschoolers. Then the genealogy group came in and took over the common area. Afternoon brought the school age kids. The children's library teemed with activity. You were thankful for the high school part-timers. The common area emptied of the genealogy group and filled with juniors and seniors studying for finals. May was always a busy month.

By the time you locked the doors, you were exhausted. Your feet had that dull ache that came from being on them all day, in heels no less. Tomorrow, you'd wear your flats or your chucks.

Your walk home in the pleasant after was barefoot. Maybe you'd set up the pool tomorrow. It was Saturday and the library closed at noon. You and the kids had just gotten new swimsuits.

The roar of an engine right next to you scares the daylights out of you. You turn to cuss the joy riding teenagers but found Tom. He rolls down the window and leans into the passenger seat.

"Can I give the most lovely librarian in Harlan County a ride home?" You swallow. He called you lovely. This. Was. Not. Happening. You kept telling yourself that but it was.

"Uh, sure." He opens the door for you. You slide in to the passenger side for a second time. This time you admire the cream interior and the new car smell mixed with Armani Code and leather. And dirt and sweat.

You turn to him and laugh at his disheveled appearance. "What happened to you?"

"Horseback riding." You clear your throat at the mental image that inspires and the dull ache it throbs between your legs. "Mind if I take you out to dinner? To make up for last night."

"I can't. Amy and Jason have plans. No sitter."

"No worries. I'll cook for you." You blink. His smile starts to fade when you remember you need to answer.

"Oh. Right. Sure." You immediately look out the window. Your heart squeezing in your chest. This. Was. Not happening. Yes, we know. Ok, it was but wow, so hard to believe. A dream come true.

You and Tom practically race through the grocery store, grabbing all the ingredients for the shrimp caprese he decided to make. You only had about 20 minutes before you had to get home, and Jason wouldn't be so forgiving tonight. It was his and Amy's anniversary, and they had made plans weeks ago. You fly through the self-checkout as there was no line and hopp into his car, giggling at the whole scene the two of you must be painting. Tom whips the car out of the parking lot toward your home.

You come bounding into the house, all bags and apologies. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I know I'm late!!" Jason stands in the living room impatiently. "It's about time, sis. I was getting worried we wouldn't make our reservation time." Amy walks out of the bathroom, having just refreshed her makeup. "There you are! I was getting worried about y-" She stops when she sees Tom walk through the door with the last bag. A very sly smile lights her face as she finishes her sentence, "-you. But I can see you were at least in good hands." Amy raises her eyebrows and mouths to you, 'Again? Nice!'

You roll your eyes dramatically at her and mouth back 'Go to dinner!' She gives you a look before she steps into the living room to fetch Jason. You hear the two of them as you unpack the food and start to put it away for the time being. You had decided to do dinner after the kids went to bed. It wouldn't be long. Marie had a recital in the morning and Jameson planned to go with his grandfather for some 'guy time'.

You hear Marie come down the stairs and skip down the hallway to the kitchen. She stops when she sees Tom and smiles wide. She shuffles over to you and hugs your leg. You bend over and pick her up for a hug. "Mommy, the hamsome man came back!"

"He is, isn't he? You should speak to him, then. Don't be shy."

Marie leans her head on your chin shyly and whispers to Tom, "Hello."

He smiles in response and whispers back, "Hello, princess. It's so lovely to meet you."

You gasp playfully at Marie as she looks at you with wide eyes. "He called you 'princess'. He already knows your name!" She grins at Tom as you laugh. "Where is your brother?"

"He's up in the playwoom. We were weading."

"Go get him. We have to go to bed early tonight. Big day tomorrow for you both." You put her back down. You watch her scamper away to get Jameson and spot Tom watching her with a sweet smile.

"She is a little treasure, isn't she?" Your heart warms to hear anyone speak of your children like that.

"She is my little princess."

"Absolutely gorgeous...not unlike her mother."

Jameson and Marie pick pot pies and cheese for dinner. So that's what you fix after changing into a pair of hip hugging jeans that make your butt look fantastic and a comfy tami top.

Tom is all legs on the floor with your kids when you come into the den to get them for dinner. Your fangirl heart squeezes. Hell, your mom heart squeezes. He looks up and catches you watching him playing cars with Jameson while Marie shows him her dance. The pictures of him with kids have nothing on seeing him with your kids.

You clear your throat. "Jay, May may, dinner's ready." They're off like a shot to the kitchen table. Tom unfolds himself, looking so damn tall and yummy. In your den. You feel yourself blush as you immediately think of climbing him like a tree.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." You gesture it away with your hands. "I've gotta be honest. This is really weird and surreal."

He rubs the back of his neck. "I can leave."

"Oh god. Please don't." You clench your fists at your sides. "It's just-I'm a fan of yours and this is like every fangirl's dream."

"I'm sorry. You've been so nice to me at the library. And very professional and helpful. I wanted to make it up to you. I hope that's alright."

"It's fine, Tom. Really." He was just being his usual over nice self. It was reassuring but disappointing at the same time.

You bathe the kids and put them to bed, reading the Bee Bo Book to Marie and a SpongeBob story to Jameson. The smells wafting from the kitchen are spectacular. You come up behind him and peek over his shoulder. He turns his head and smiles at you.

"Almost done."

"Ok." You're momentarily lost in the feel of his back pressed to your front and the way his eyes smile and shine. Tom's smile falters as he seems to be experiencing the same thing. You both turn away and you take a step back. "I'll um...I'll set the table." You break the silence. You turn away from him and reach up for the plates in the cabinet. Tom put the finishing touch in the dish, a last sprinkle of cheese. He carried it over to the table from the stovetop as you set down a trivet. "Oh my god, this looks fantastic, Tom."

"I hope it tastes as good as it looks. It's my signature dish but I haven't made it in a while." He spoons some out onto your plate first and waits for you to take a bite. You do, and your eyes close in sheer bliss. It's incredible. The man can cook as good as he looks. Tom smiles at you as you open your eyes.

"This is amazing, Tom."

He serves himself and takes his seat. You start to tuck in and Tom starts the conversation. "So tell me something about yourself I don't already know."

"Well, that doesn't narrow the field much, you hardly know me!" You laugh.

"Tell me something, anything you like."

"What could you possibly want to know about me?"

"What's your favorite thing to do each week?"

You lean back in your chair as you think about your favorite day each week. "Sunday morning. It's the only morning it's entirely peaceful, even for a minute." You set the scene for Tom as he sets his fork down, listening intently. "The kids always sleep late Sunday. So I wake up and watch them sleep for a bit. They're so close and it's fun for them, so most Saturdays they have what they call sleepovers. Usually, Marie falls asleep in Jay's bed because it's bigger. I watch them for a bit and then go down and make coffee. The good stuff, not just any old ground mess. In a French Press. I usually get 30 minutes before they wake up, and I enjoy the absolute hell out of that silence."

Tom looks at you as you finish. He has the most peaceful expression on his face. "That sounds wonderful, darling."

"It's quite nice. Just a little chance to think and regroup before the week starts." Did he just call you darling? Oh shit, he did. Again, totally not happening, but totally was. "You make it sound so enticing...I may have to join you next time." Tom winks at you. You feel your face and chest get white-hot as he picks his fork back up. If you made it through this meal alive, it would be a miracle.

Conversation flows easily. You talk about siblings, his sisters and your brother. Before you knew it, the food had been eaten and you were sipping wine, staring into each other's eyes as you spoke.

"I wanted to be a writer. Since about eighth grade. I love the written word. I became a librarian so I could get paid to spend all day with books. Is that how you feel about acting?"

He swallows the mouthful of white wine. "Oh yes. I knew from about middle school/high school on that I wanted to act. Bringing words to life for the enjoyment of others. It's amazing."

"And you're fantastic at it. The way you just immerse yourself in the character." You feel that little fangirl excitement bubble start to rise. "My favorite role of yours so far has been Hal/Henry. You just bring such passion and fire to the words." You can't help the swoon.

He blushes just a bit. "It's been my favorite role as well." You glance down at the table, feeling like a gushing schoolgirl. You finish the wine in your glass before standing. Taking the plates, you disappear into the kitchen. "I can help with that."

"No, you cooked. I'll clean." He refills both your wine glass and his, following you into the kitchen. "I've been curious about something. That is, if you can tell me."

"I'll do my best."

You run the water scalding hot, washing the dishes swiftly. "Why are you studying for your role in the middle of nowhere in Middle America? Surely, London had libraries that have the same literature." You move to wash the pans from the stove.

"Well, that's because we will be filming here."

You jerk. "You're filming here?"

"Yes. I really shouldn't divulge this information but I trust you." His presence is a warm, welcome heat at your back. "It's about a series of murders that takes place on a college campus a short driving distance from a small town. My character is one of the prime suspects." His hands appear on the counter on either side of you. "Would you think me too forward if I told you I've been having one Hell of a time keeping my eyes and hands off you?"

Your breath washes out of you as you turn the water off. You turn, finding him close enough to touch. "Pinch me."

He blinks. "What?"

"Just pinch me. Pull my hair. Something. Because I really feel like I'm in a coma somewhere dreaming all this."

He laughs. "How about I do you one better?" He curls a finger under your chin and lifts your mouth in offering to his. When you don't resist, he looks from your eyes to your lips. His tongue and jaw work the kiss deep and deeper still, drawing you in. You grab the counter to ground yourself, placing a hand on his chest. At the end of the kiss, he bites your bottom lip playfully.

You slump against the counter. "Oh I'm awake." He watches you quietly as you seem to wrestle with something. You come to the decision to do it. To just act like he's a normal person, not who he really is. You kiss him eagerly, you arms wrapping around his shoulders. He returns the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist before thinking better of it and lifting you onto the sink.

His mouth moves down your jaw to your neck, kissing and biting up behind your ear. You close your eyes, leaning in the opposite direction, softly sighing when he hits the right spot. Your fingers comb through his hair repeatedly, tugging at the ends, something you'd fantasized about doing. He kisses down your exposed throat and down between your breasts before kissing the tops of them.

"Mommy?"

You both come to a screeching halt. You drop off the counter, pushing Tom away as he steps back. "What's wrong, Jameson?" You walk over to him and start to kneel down but he lifts his arms to be picked up and you comply. "I wet the bed."

"Oh it's ok, baby." You feel his bottom and he's already changed until clean clothes. "Let's go get you clean sheets. Spider-Man or Batman?"

"Batman."

"Ok." You kiss his cheek and feel him for fever. He always wets the bed when he's sick. No fever. "Baby, can you stay here with Tom until I get your bed changed?"

He seems to notice Tom like he hadn't before. A shy, embarrassed smile takes his little mouth. "Yea." You set him on his feet and go to change the sheets. After shoving the wet ones into the washer, you find Tom in the den on the couch. Jameson has his head tucked into Tom's arm and is flipping through channels, showing Tom how to use the remote.

"All cleaned up. Back to bed, mister."

"Night, Tom."

"Night, buddy." He hugs your waist before going back upstairs to his bedroom and shutting the door. You sit down on the couch next to him, tucking your feet under you.

"Sorry about that."

"It's quite alright." He settles his arm around you. The moment broken in the kitchen, you pluck the remote from his hands as you settle into the curve of his body. His hand rubs down your bare arm. You lay your head on his chest. Scrolling through the channels, you come to one of your favorite action movies, Deathrace.

The movie seems to end much quicker than usual, and it may have had something to do with the location of Tom's hand. His fingers trace little patterns on your upper arm, sending chills through you when he grazed you just right. Occasionally, he reaches up and touch the ends of your hair gently. You were having a very difficult time wrapping your mind around what was happening, or rather, what HAD happened in the kitchen. Tom didn't seem to want to press it, probably to keep you from feeling awkward. As the credits started to roll, you glanced over at him. He was looking at you unabashedly. You could feel the heat rise in your face as Tom brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "Has anyone ever told you you're an absolute beauty?"

Now you were really embarrassed. You turn away from him, redder than you'd ever been. "Tom...really, you don't have to say things like that-"

"Hm, that's where you're wrong because I can't seem to stop myself from saying them." You breathe out a small laugh and bite your lips together. Tom could sense how shy you were getting. "Don't be embarrassed, darling. It might do you good to get

used to it, as I have a tendency to be honest with the people who are important to me."

That last part hit you. You were important to him? When did that happen? Did you fall into another universe and not realize it? Tom tilts his head forward and you turn to face him again. A genuine smile spreads across his face. You say the only thing you can think to say, as stupid as it probably sounds. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, love. Now, if I recall correctly, you have a very busy day tomorrow?" You nod at him. "Then I fear I've kept you up late enough. I believe it's my bedtime."

"Okay. I'll walk you out this time." You walk toward your front door, Tom very close behind. You can feel him reach his hand out to stroke the small of your back before you get there. As you both reach your foyer, you turn around. He can't take his eyes off you as he reaches up to run his hand through your hair. His other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you close. He cups the back of your head and pulls it back slightly. His lips descend on yours gently. The kiss is slow, sensuous. As if Tom was trying to slowly memorize every little cell of your lips. You breathe him in. You had never been kissed like this before.

He breaks it tenderly before whispering in your ear, "I had an amazing evening with you. I'd love to do it again before too long."

Your insides turn to goo. He could have asked you anything in that moment and you would have agreed. You're able to nod after a moment. "Yes, I'd like that."

Tom places one more soft kiss on your ear before he leans back up and looks into your eyes. "I'll call you tomorrow, all right?" You nod again. You were finding words failed you around him, no matter how many you knew. You slowly reach for the door knob and open the door. Tom just as slowly releases you from his grip and steps out the door. He turns back to you, leaning against the side of the door. "Good night, darling. I'll see you soon."

"Good night, Tom." He smiles once more and steps off your porch. You shut the door and lock it behind you then press your back against the hard wood and stained glass panel. You couldn't imagine the expression on your face at this point, but you were sure you were grinning like a damn idiot.
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Surreal Moments