Moving House- A Tom Hiddleston Fanfiction.

Emily and Amy have been friends forever, growing up around the corner from each other. You can imagine Emily’s dismay when recently engaged Amy moves to London to open up her own art gallery and live with her fiancée. Even more so when she finds out that her favourite actor, Tom Hiddleston is there to help them.


21. Chapter 20

A/N: A huge Thankyou to Laura for giving me the idea for the opening of this chapter. I couldn’t help but picture it in my head as soon as she sent me it. Also a bit more smut. Sorry it’s taken so long to update I needed to get my book back for reference. I don’t own the quotes that I use in this chapter. They are purely for story purposes and from one of my favourite books: `Dear Scott, Dearest Zelda: The Love Letters of Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald`. Hope you enjoy this chapter. Lots of love.


For some reason my body clock had gotten into the habit of waking me up at three am most nights. This time when I awoke though, I wasn’t greeted with an empty bed as usual. Instead, I was surrounded by someone’s arms and legs wrapped within my own. It took me a while to register who’s, but taking a look over my shoulder I soon realised it was Tom. My Tom.


I instantly relaxed repositioning myself in the bed trying to get comfortable, seeing if he was real. It felt like a dream him being here. His grip tightening on my waist and him pulling me against his naked chest proved that it wasn’t and that he was infact here in my bed, with me.


“All this feels but a dream.” I whispered aloud wondering if he would respond.


“I can assure you my love it is not. I am very much real.” He replied in a voice full of sleep. With a squeeze of my waist he moved closer to my ear “Relax darling, I’m here now and will be when you awake. Dream sweet my love” I hummed in appreciation lacing my fingers with his on my waist before being lulled back into a peaceful sleep by the sound of his light breathing in my ear and his heart beating against my back. How I loved him so.


My alarm sounded a few hours later at seven am. I groaned in frustration, untangling myself from Tom to turn it off. He didn’t stir, just rolled over onto his back. I laid next to him for a moment admiring the view of his chest rising and falling as he slept. He looked so peaceful.


The alarm sounded again a few minutes later. I turned it off reluctantly getting out of bed slinging on Tom’s shirt that had been discarded on the floor of my bedroom the night before. I smiled at the memory.


I went downstairs and rang work saying that I had a bad case of stomach poising before making a start on a fried breakfast for Tom.


Tom`s strong arms circled round my waist a few moments later.


“What are you doing up? I told you I wasn’t going to let you get out of bed today” he growled in my ear before biting the lobe.


“I had to call work and tell them I wouldn’t be in. Plus I wanted to make you breakfast”


“What did you tell them?”


“That I was sick” I replied taking my hands away from placing bacon in the frying pan to bring them round to Tom`s neck playing with his curls. He moaned kissing my neck.


“Ooh you naughty girl” he muttered into my skin. I moaned. “God you look so sexy in my shirt.”


“What can I say, I’ve always liked the idea of being able to wear a mans shirt”


“It looks better off you though and I’d much rather have you for breakfast.” I moaned as he hoisted me up onto the kitchen counter, slowly undoing the buttons of his shirt taking one of my nipples into his mouth. My legs wrapped around his jean covered hips automatically as he started to grind against me. The denim of his jeans felt rough against my underwear, which only made me wetter for him. He removed his mouth from my nipple to kiss me fully on the lips.


We continued to kiss; exploring each others mouths as he slowly led us over to the sofa. Tom continued to kiss me as we made love into the early afternoon.


* * *


As I was supposed to be sick we couldn’t go out. Instead we both went and got dressed, myself into a t shirt and hoodie and Tom into a white t shirt and black cardigan before enjoying a late fried breakfast (well lunch) before spending the rest of the afternoon in, lounging on the sofa as Tom read me the rest of The Love Letters of Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald.


It was so relaxing listening to him read it to me. We didn’t get very far before he went off track and ended up telling me all about the filming of Midnight in Paris and how himself and Alison Pill sat on the rooftop of the Hotel Bristol reading the letters back and forth to each other.


I loved listening to him speak about his many filming adventures as he read the letters aloud. It was times like this when I knew I loved him and that we belonged together. He was home.


“And the only sadness is living without you… you and I have been happy; we haven’t been happy just once, we’ve been happy a thousand times… forget the past- what you can of it, and turn about and swim back to me, to your havan for ever and ever- even though it may seem a dark cave at times and lit with torches of fury, it is the best refuge for you- turn gently in the waters through which you move and sail back” he read.


“God, it’s so beautiful. Why don’t people talk or write like that anymore?” I asked looking up at him placing my hand on his chest where my head had been mere seconds before.


He looked down at me wrapping his arm tighter around my waist before kissing my forehead. “I don’t know, love but I certainly agree with you. Calling people dearest and darling kind of got forgotten long ago, but then I still use both a lot.”


“I’m glad you do. I love it when you call me both”


“Well, im glad about that my darling” he smiled down at my leaning down to kiss my lips.


I kissed him back, yet again repositioning myself on the sofa. Not long later we were having a full on snogging session with me straddling his lap. I pulled back for breath with a content sigh.


“I’ll never tire of kissing you. Everytime it feels like the first time” Tom hummed in appreciation.


“Do you remember the first time?” he asked.


“I remember everything. I can’t believe it’s only been five months”


“You don’t think we’re going too fast? You don’t regret it?”


“Oh Tom. I will never regret anything with you, ever.” I panicked. Did he think we were going too fast?  As if answering my unasked question he replied. “No, love. I just wanted to check with you as I promised you I wouldn’t rush you into anything before you were ready.”


“You haven’t, Tom. Far from it. I would have told you if you had.” He smiled down at me before kissing my forehead. I loved how we could have serious conversations yet muck about like children at the same time. I so badly wanted to tell him my news and bring up the conversation about Total Film but didn’t want to ruin our perfect bubble. Instead I kept quite, giving him one last kiss on the lips before getting off of him.


“Do you fancy a cuppa as I’m up?”


“A cup of tea would be lovely darling. Thankyou. Then when you come back I’ll finish reading to you if you like?” I nodded running one of my hands through his curls and down his arm. He grabbed my hand just as I touched his shoulder linking it with his hand as he planted a kiss on the back of mine.


I smiled, reluctantly letting go of his hand as I went into the kitchen to go and make the tea.


While it was brewing I came back into the living room and sat on Tom`s lap. It was like an imaginary cord was drawing me to him at every given opportunity.


My hands continued to play with his curls as his hands rested on my waist. He kissed a trail of kisses from my cheek down along my jaw to my neck before nuzzling his nose into it. I giggled at the sensation.


“You smell absolutely divine”


“Thankyou. So do you. Armani aftershave suits you.” he chuckled into my skin.


“Are you happy darling?”


“Blissfully.” I replied before getting up of his lap to finish making the tea.


Once the tea was made I made my way back in to Tom cuddling back up to him on the sofa as he finished reading.


“Why should graves make people feeling in vain? I’ve heard that so much…but somehow I cant find anything hopeless in having lived- All the broken columns and clasped hands and doves and angels mean romances- and in an hundred years I think I shall like having young people speculate on whether my eyes were brown or blue…I hope my grave has an air of many, many years about it. Isn’t it funny how, out of a row of confederate soldiers, two or three will make you think of dead lovers and dead loves….


After visiting Zelda in the hospital in Baltimore in late September 1933, Scott wrote to a friend” Tom read.


“It was wonderful to sit with her head on my shoulder for hours and feel as I always have, even now, closer to her than to any other human being…And I wouldn’t mind a bit if in a few years Zelda and I could snuggle up together under a stone in some graveyard here. That is really a happy thought and not melancholy at all”


I didn’t realise I was crying until the tears started to cascade down my face. Tom closed the book and looked down at me slowly moving his thumb under my eye wiping away my tears.


“Love, why are you crying?”


I looked up into his beautiful blue eyes. “I didn’t realise I was. I didn’t realise how much of an effect books could have on me. It just proved how much they loved each other. I would love a love like that.”


Tom cupped my cheek running his hand across my cheekbone. “You do. With me” he whispered.


I smiled cuddling up to his side, holding onto him for dear life. I never wanted to let him go.


“Thomas, I love you”


“I love you too my darling girl”




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