#mmatc

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || bonus.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~3.4k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: Fluff but what’s new?

A/N: Because I have slight OCD, I decided to write just one more chapter so this series can be an even 10 parts. Now I can put this story to rest at last. Thank you for reading this series. It means more to me than any words could say.

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. || day four. || day five. || day six. || last day. || one year later. || epilogue. || bonus. ||

three years later…

Light buzzing of the airplane’s engines fill the air as it flies us through the air to an unknown destination. My wonderful man has refused to tell me where we are currently flying to, ever the lover of surprising me.

The last five years have been the hardest but most rewarding of my life. After my relationship with Tom became public, my life changed overnight. Suddenly, everyone wanted to know who I was, where I came from, and everything that was happening in my life. My followers and book sales skyrocketed after the Late Late show which thrilled my publicist to no end. Every media outlet wanted to interview me and do a story of “the woman who snatched one of Hollywood’s most eligible bachelors.” I had interview after interview having to repeat our love story countless times for everyone who asked. It grew tiring but I was also exhilarated. I finally got the opportunity to boast about how amazing Tom truly was. The fans got a glance at the man behind the mask, so to speak.

Wherever I went, people would follow me and want to take pictures and ask me questions about Tom. At first it was overwhelming. There were a lot of difficult days following. Especially when I read the negative comments and reactions. I knew there would be and I tried to brace myself for the worst possible thing anyone could say about me but nothing could have prepared me for the real thing. Faceless people calling me a gold-digger among other comments on my appearance, saying I’m using Tom for fame and how we made up the story for publicity claiming that since I’m a writer I could “spin anything to make it sell.” It seemed to be never-ending. Every time I tried to focus on the positive, supportive people one of the negatives would pop up and ruin any sense of confidence I had built.

Tom would try and distract me from it as best as he could, but when he wasn’t physically there with me, nothing could shake the depression it would send me into.

After a few months, I had had enough. I disabled the comments on my Instagram posts and turned off all notifications for all social media. I no longer wanted the negativity to take over my life as it had.  It was also having an adverse effect on my relationship. That was our first hurdle that we faced together. He didn’t want to tell me what to do, knowing I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself no matter how much he wanted to protect me, but he finally drew the line. He made a statement on his social media, telling the fans he loves so much to stop with the outrageously false comments, to consider my feelings and how their words affect me when they start typing, and that if they weren’t going to be supportive of the woman he is choosing to spend his life with then they are not true fans of his. Following his statement was when I disabled everything. From that moment on, our relationship went back to how it was before we went public.

A pair of lips awoke me from my daydreaming. “How’s our littlest flier?” Tom’s baritone whisper invaded my ears but not disturbing the smallest passenger on the private plane.

I glance down at the sleeping 7 month old with my dark hair and Tom’s curls. “He’s sleeping like a champ as usual.”

He smiles proudly as he sits next to me, reaching for my hand. He plays with the rings that adorn my ring finger that he gave me 2 1/2 years and 1 1/2 years ago. “And how’s my beautiful wife?”

Memories of those two magnificent days always bring me the greatest joy.

Seeing him slowly go down on his knee in front of the fireplace at the Chalet, him declaring his “everlasting love” and how much his life has felt “more fulfilled since meeting me at the chalet,” how big of a surprise I’ve been to him, how much he’s loved every minute of our lives together, and how he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with me. The pure love and joy he exhibited on his face the moment I said yes will forever be etched in my mind, making me fall in love with him that much more than I already was.

Hearing the words “I do” in the most confident manner with the biggest smile on his gorgeous features will also remain a constant memory of one of the best days of my life. The tan suit he wore, the stunning dress that I still love to this day, the warm sand under our bare feet, the sun setting behind us as our family and our closest friends watched us begin the next chapter in our lives.

A kiss to the back of my hand brought me back to the present, “She is confused as to where her husband is taking all of us.” I raise my eyebrow in question towards him eliciting a chuckle from his lips.

“You trust me, darling?”

“You know I do.”

He squeezes my hand in affirmation, “Then will you please believe me when I tell you that you will not be disappointed?” He places another kiss on the back of my hand, ending this discussion in the most gentlemanly way possible. Damn him.

I decide to trust him as I have since the day we met, resting my head on his shoulder, careful not to wake our most precious gift and catch some much needed sleep before we land in who-knows-where.

Upon the pilot’s message about our upcoming decent, I was instructed to put on a blindfold by my husband, adding to the surprise he has in store for us. I was hesitant, skeptical of being robbed of my site for the time being but I trusted him enough to know he wouldn’t let anything bad happen.

He took an anxious Bobby and our gray cat Sadie out as soon as the door to the plane was opened and put them in the awaiting car. Listening to him coo at our son who was undoubtedly upset about being removed from my lap melted my heart. I wish I could have seen it instead of just heard it.

“Alright, my darling, your turn.” He guided me down the steps of the plane into the chilly atmosphere before he gently placed me into a car. He hopped into the drivers seat and we began the second leg of our journey.

The drive was peaceful. He had soft music playing so it wouldn’t wake up the baby in the back and he probably thought I would want to sleep a little more, too. I happily accepted the heaviness again, taking full advantage of not having to fuss over my son.

I was awoken by his soft whispers, “you can take the blindfold off now, darling.” I sat up in my seat before untying it. In front of the car, I see a gate. Tom sticks his arm out the drivers side window, inserting a key into a keyhole effectively opening the gate. I look around and see the bright snow covering everything around. As he drives through the gate, I recognize the area immediately.

“When did the Chalet install a gate?” I ask Tom who has a shit-eating grin on his beautiful weathered face.

“Actually…” He trails off as we pull up to the Chalet and into a brand new garage built off to the side.

“Is this why it was under construction for so long?” I exit the vehicle, putting Bobby on his leash and grabbing Sadie’s carrier before rounding the car to the side Liam is on. Tom is already working to take his car seat out. Tom had told me right before we got married that the Chalet was under construction and would be for a few years. It broke my heart to know we couldn’t go there for our honeymoon, but where we did go was the most wonderful experience. Malaysia, Australia, and Bora Bora… the most fun and relaxing three months of my life. It was a God-send after the stress of planning a wedding and reception. We had a small ceremony with just us, our family, and our closest friends followed by a big reception a week later inviting everyone we know for a night of fun.

Tom ushered us up to the front door, unlocking the door with another key.

“When did Sal give you a key?” was my last question before we entered the building. My jaw dropped. 

Everything looked completely different. There no longer was a front desk, but a foyer with benches and cubbies for coat hooks like a mud room. It opened up to the grand living room that Tom and I have made many memories from sitting together while reading and writing to when we sat by the fireplace after my midnight breakdown the night before to when he proposed to me right in this very spot. 

The view of the mountain below still took my breath away even after all of this time and the many visits we’ve paid since that first time. As I took in the room I loved, I noticed the small details that weren’t there before. Pictures of us- me and Tom- from our first time here to our wedding day and our first family of three photos, solo pictures of Bobby, Sadie, and Liam I’ve taken over the course of the last few years. 

I also noticed a few pieces of furniture that weren’t here before. A papasan chair was placed in the corner just like our home in London had. It’s the best place to sleep when I have a headache and Liam loves sleeping with me in it. There’s a picture of one of those occurrences hanging above it as to remind me of the first few weeks he was born.

Tom appeared next to me, having Liam in one arm, he wrapped the other arm around my waist pulling me closer and whispered in my ear, “Welcome home, baby.”

“Wait, what?” I gasped as the realization hit me. I turned to meet his eyes, “You bought it?!”

“Sal was looking to retire and I said I’d take it off his hands. He gave me a great deal considering we were his favorites.” He kissed me tenderly before pulling back again. “I wanted this to be our home; a place we raise our family, make memories in. What better way to unveil the finished renovations by bringing us all and spending the holidays here?”

I wrapped my arms tightly around his waist, squealing in excitement. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I could call this place “home.” It’s always been a home away from home. Every time I would have to leave, I’d feel like I was leaving a piece of myself behind. But my wonderful, thoughtful husband made it happen. He made this place that holds a special place in both of our hearts into our dream home where we will raise our son and our future children, where we will start family traditions that will be passed down to our children when they have children of their own, a place where our families can come together for the holidays, birthdays, and vacations… a place to call home.

“Do you approve?” He purrs into my ear.

“Do I approve?” I ask incredulously. I pull back to face him, “This is one of the best surprises I could have ever asked for.” I place a quick kiss on his lips. “Thank you.” I turn my attention to our beautiful son who was wide awake now, “did Daddy buy us a new home?” My baby voice came out, “did he?” I took possession of him, kissing his scrumptious chubby cheeks repeatedly. Tom chuckled at how ridiculous I sound but he’s gotten used to it now. “We’re going to be so happy here.”

Tom brings us on a tour to show me all that was done to make it work for us as a family home. Two of the rooms were combined to give us the most incredible master suite I’ve ever seen, including a spa-like master bathroom and a see-through fireplace that connects the two.

Two of the other rooms were redone into bedrooms for Liam and a future child with closets and their own bathrooms. Two other rooms was changed into guest suites for family or friends who want to come stay with us.

But the most amazing surprise out of all of this was the last room was my dedicated writing space. A serene room including a desk, a bookcase that contained all of my books and my unfinished works, cups filled with my favorite kinds of pens, plenty of loose-leaf printer paper, other notebooks I’ve yet to use, anything I could possibly use or need. The real kicker was in what looks like a wardrobe was a Murphy bed. I had always said that my ideal office would include a Murphy bed because I do my best writing in bed. I spend most nights up until the wee hours of the morning writing and I didn’t want to keep my future partner awake with my habit. I couldn’t wait to get started.

The kitchen was converted into a beautiful chef’s kitchen with quartz counter tops with a gorgeous chevron backsplash, normal-sized stainless steel appliances, white cabinets and cupboards and a banquette that was build into the large island that could fit our growing family. It opened up to the living room and dining room now which made the space seem so much bigger than it already is.

I could picture Tom at the stove, making breakfast for us on Saturdays while I watch from either the island or on the couch in the living room. I could imagine both of our families flying around the room busying themselves with whatever dish they were in charge of for the holidays. I see Tom and I enjoying quiet midnight snacks while sitting on the island or on the floor and mid-day food fights like we had during our first encounter.

The gym was also revamped and the laundry room was scaled down to accommodate a family instead of a hotel. It was all so perfect. It felt like a dream, but it wasn’t a dream. It was our new reality.

As we start this new chapter in our lives in Colorado with our little family, I can’t believe how my life has turned out…

In six years, I went from a single, aspiring writer who just released her first book going on a solo vacation for solitude and inspiration to a best-selling novelist, the wife of one of England’s finest gentleman who also happened to be one of my biggest celebrity crushes, and the mother of his unbelievably adorable son.

Never in a million years would I have thought this was where my life would end up after being stuck with him in a beautiful secluded Chalet. Our time in seclusion would be the catalyst for the ride of a lifetime. Half a dozen years later with a painful, but eye-opening year separation, five more published books and book tours for me, five movies and long press tours for him, a long awaited wedding plus reception, and a beautiful baby boy later… here we are in the same Chalet we met converted into our dream home with our son, dog, and cat. Life couldn’t be better.

The holidays in our new home were better than I expected. Our moms fussed over Liam as much as they possibly could when they weren’t concerned with cooking for all of us. When they weren’t all over him, Tom’s sisters were. It gave us some much-needed alone time in our brand new master suite. To say we took full advantage of our built-in babysitters was an understatement.

Thanksgiving came and went far too quickly. Our moms stayed after wanting as much time watching Liam discover something new every day and spoil him as much as they can since neither of us live close to our families with his in England and mine in the states. Our busy schedules don’t allow for us to see them as often as we’d both like. But ever since Liam was born, we’ve both taken tons of time off- no movies, no press tours, no auditions, no publication meetings- and we’ve gotten the opportunity to see them more.

By Christmas though, Tom and I were ready for it to be over so we could go back to our normal. We love our moms, more so now that we have our own child, but they were beginning to become “smothers.” Thankfully by Christmas Eve, Tom’s sisters were back and they could focus on more than just us. That night we decorated the tree with ornaments from our respective childhoods and the ornaments we made to commemorate Liam’s first Christmas and our first as a family of three. We drank cider and eggnog around the fireplace as we watched the snow fall, sharing stories of our favorite memories and our most memorable present. Christmas morning was full of excitement with our nieces and nephews tearing open their presents and Liam wanting nothing to do with his. For dinner my mom’s famous Swedish meatballs were made and devoured by everyone. Our family’s Jell-O dessert with strawberry Jell-O with strawberries added, whipped cream and pretzels was a big hit with the whole family, even Liam had a small taste and he continued to suck on Tom’s finger trying to get every last morsel of flavor. It truly was a day of merriment.

The next day the chaos had ebbed. We finally got back to our quiet household with our routine. We spend New Years Eve watching the fireworks through the multi-story, floor-to-ceiling windows. A picture perfect site made for the best New Years I had ever had.

By the time we were leaving in mid-January because Tom was due on set for his first movie after the baby, we discovered our family was going to gain another member.

When the holidays came around again, our daughter Julia was the apple of everyone’s eye who met her, completing our already-perfect family. She has Tom’s ginger locks and her blue-turning-green eyes are like mine but so much more to die for. She has the sweetest temperament, just like her brother. I can tell already that they completely adore each other. I can’t wait to watch Liam be the protective big brother I always wanted growing up. With a father like Tom, I know he will be the best man- sensitive, caring, soft- everything I love about him. Julia will be the most headstrong and stubborn woman just like me. For now though I’m good with them staying my babies.

As I sit in the papasan chair in the corner with my sweetest little girl sleeping in one arm, I have a pen in the other hand. Words were flowing out of me as if a levee had just given way. Finally getting some peace and quiet after the busy holiday season, I’ve had time to come up with an idea for my next book.

“I see some things never change.” I look to see the love of my life standing where the doorway used to be, where he said those exact same words to me after our year separation. This time however, he was holding our son on his hip, matching smiles on both of them. My handsome boys.

I can’t hide the smile that seems to be a constant on my face nowadays, “But would you really want them to?”

His smile grows bigger as he makes his way over to me, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss on my lips. He pulls back a hair and whispers, “Never,” in the huskiest tone instantly reminding me of the God of Mischief. 

I can’t help but giggle like a schoolgirl when he talks like that. This man still gives me butterflies even after all these years. He still makes my heart race every time he looks at me or touches me. I still get goosebumps when he tells me he loves me, which is multiple times a day. I still love him- I’m still IN love with him- even more than I was yesterday but less than I will be tomorrow. I sigh in complete and utter contentment.

Meeting at this Chalet was the best decision we both could have ever made. The blizzard that stranded us here was the best thing in the world that could have happened to us. I can’t wait to see what the next chapter of our lives has in store for all four of us.

.

the end.

.

Taglist: @the-marvel-wars​ @elusive-beauty​ @drakesfiance​ @im-a-slut-for-an-accent​ @fantasy-is-my-reality​ @hiddlephile​

#meet me at the chalet #tom hiddleston #Thomas William Hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x female!reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston series #mmatc

[gelmomentbytrish-blog]

My first attempt at ombre #gelmomentbytrish #gelmoment #ombrenails #firstattempt #MMATC #beautyqueen #cupcakesinheels #clearlyfrisky #ombre #gelpolishnails #gelpolish #prettynails #pretty #diygelmani #diyprettynails #diygelpolish

#mmatc #pretty #diygelmani #ombre #firstattempt #prettynails #diygelpolish #cupcakesinheels #gelmomentbytrish #beautyqueen #ombrenails #diyprettynails #gelpolishnails #clearlyfrisky #gelpolish #gelmoment

[yuudetama]

Meet me at the Carnival literally brought me to tears! It was so well written and just so heartbreaking. I was really holding out hope for a reunion and even thought that the ringmaster (as y/n also initially thought) could have been him. In a way, the ending is bittersweet and I truly loved the story arch. I loved reading about Taehyung and the way Y/N describes him, he was just so lovable and genuine (which makes the reality so much more sad). Honestly one of the best stories I’ve ever read 💙

YOU are bringing me to tears; thank you so so much for this and for enjoying MMATC. It’s my personal favourite so it makes me really happy to know what your thoughts are ❤️ I think the main reason why the story was able to flow the way it did, is because I wanted to portray his sincerity. The love he has for things is so honest and genuine, it’s hard to imagine him being any other way. 

Thank you again and I hope you’re having a lovely day ❤️

#replies

[meetmeatthecoda]

You really ARE the best MMatC !! 😊😊 that was so cool ... every time I hear that song now I'll think of these two giving each other courage and caring and understanding !! How I wish everybody had a best friend just like them 😊 Thank you !

Omg, yay, hello there, anon! Thank you for messaging me back! :D And thank you so much for the compliments, you are so sweet! :’D I’m so glad you liked your fic, that brings such a sense of fulfillment to me! :))) I’m glad to give you a positive association with the song and the characters, it was my pleasure! :) You’re very welcome, of course, and thank YOU for the prompt to begin with! :D Feel free to drop back into my inbox anytime! :)) Thank you again! :) Much love!

#The Blacklist #Lizzington #mine #fanfic #let it be me #ask #anon #yay! #:D #thank you anon! #:) #much love! #<3

[catherindonald]

MMATC owner's Immunity Booster is now famous as Mansoora Kadha - thepolicytimes.com

MMATC owner's Immunity Booster is now famous as Mansoora Kadha  thepolicytimes.com MMATC owner's Immunity Booster is now famous as Mansoora Kadha - thepolicytimes.com published first on https://marcuskeever.blogspot.com/

[mundopassport-blog]

Cartelera de MMATC - MMA Total Combat 73 - 9 de Septiembre 2017

Cartelera de #MMATC - MMA Total Combat 73 - 9 de Septiembre 2017

El sábado 9 de septiembre, MMA Total Combat (MMATC) ha anunciado que presentará su evento: “MMATC – MMA Total Combat 73”.  que tendrá lugar en el Spennymoor Leisure Centre, Spennymoor, Condado de Durham, Inglaterra.

Cartelera de MMATC – MMA Total Combat 73:

Adam Colquhoun frente a Luke Dalton en las 170 libras Jason Holmes contra Ernest Williams en las 265 libras Callum Laskey contra Rob…

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[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || masterlist

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~30k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, depressing thoughts (in “day three” and “day four”), mental breakdown (in “day three”), Tom being Tom, painful goodbye (I actually cried writing it, btw), happy ending because that’s what I do.

My Masterlist

night one.  day one. day two. day three. day four. day five. day six. last day. one year later. epilogue. bonus.

#tom hiddleston #meet me at the chalet #mmatc #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x female!reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fic #hiddleston #thomas william hiddleston #hiddlestory #tom hiddleston story #tom hiddlestory #tom hiddleston series

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || one year later.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~1.2k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: None

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. || day four. || day five. || day six. || last day. || one year later. || epilogue. ||

The days dragged on at first. But after my book made it onto the Bestseller’s list, it got a little easier. Countless interviews were requested to find out the true identity of this illusive author, all were declined. Sure, this caused some controversy, calling me “a coward” and “a diva,” but my stance remained the same: I wanted to stay anonymous until all of the books in my series were released.

Yes, series. After the success of the first book, the sequel to one of the two endings I published was highly anticipated. Once I left the chalet last year, I started working on a prequel to the first book. With the sequel recently published, the prequel is now the main focus. The publishers may even want me to completely rewrite the first book but with the character from the prequel instead. It’s still just in talks. They want to see how well the prequel does before thinking about adding that book.

Days were easy, but nights… definitely were not. When I wasn’t writing, my thoughts consisted of only him. I wondered what he was doing or if he was missing me as much as I was missing him or if he had already moved on and forgotten about me. I did manage to stay away from his social media as hard as that was. I did see his last Marvel movie when it came out and have seen his new Loki series. They were both absolutely brilliant. I wouldn’t have expected anything less from him.

My feelings never lessened, only growing for him as my heart yearned for him. It all hurt at first knowing I wouldn’t see him every day, but after a few days, it turned into a dull ache. I tried to distract myself as much as possible with my writing, diving into a world I created to keep my mind from wandering to what he might be doing.

Which is why I am currently in a car, on the way to the chalet. My plane landed an hour ago and I’ve been a ball of nerves since the wheels touched down. As I made the familiar drive into the mountains, I could enjoy it this time. The sun was shining on the snow covered trees and it highlighted the road ahead. My knuckles were white against the black steering wheel. The winding roads through the mountains churned my stomach.

What if he’s not showing up? What if I’m the only one and I make a fool out of myself? What if I’m the only one who has been looking forward to this day? I’ve been counting down the days ever since I left. I always knew I would come back. From the second I made the decision, I knew I would be back. I had only hoped that his mind wouldn’t have changed.

I finally pulled up to the chalet, this time seeing multiple cars parked out front. Entering through the front door, the same feeling of home washed over me as I take in the same modern interior as a huge contrast to the log cabin look on the exterior.

“Miss Borosi! So nice to see you back here!” The owner greeted from the desk. “Are you planning on staying? I can have your room prepared for you.”

“Oh no, that’s okay. I don’t know if I’ll be staying yet, but I will let you know as soon as I do. Thank you.” I made my way into the living room where I planted my butt and waited. I waited for an hour before I asked the owner if I could make something to eat in the kitchen. He said I am more than welcome to it, letting his chef know that I’ll be in there as well.

I tried to stay out of his way while I made two grilled cheese sandwiches, adding bacon and pickles, with a smile on my face. I thought about when we made these for the first time. We had just met that day, but it seemed like we had already known each other for years. I remember the way his eyes lit up when he tried it, vowing never to go back to a plain grilled cheese. I remember how after that he had asked me about my writing and had been genuine about his curiosity; how at that moment I wanted to kiss him so badly, but didn’t because I didn’t know how he would have reacted, only to have him kiss me on the last night… and slowly but surely I fell in love with him… so much so that I am willing to get my heart shattered if he doesn’t show up.

“I see some things never change.”

My shoulders slump and my head drops in reprieve. My chest feels like a huge weight has been lifted, I can hardly believe I can breathe again.

I turn around to see Tom, the man I’m so hopelessly in love with, leaning against the doorway. As badly as I want to launch into his arms, he chose those words for a reason. I had to play along. “What are you doing here?” I ask back.

He shrugs, “I’m in town.” How is it possible for him to look even better than the last time I saw him but also the exact same? His eyes held the same mischief I’ve come to love seeing in his films.

As I took in the rest of him, I felt my throat tighten and my eyes start to sting. After one whole year of wondering if he would show up, after worrying about him possibly moving on and forgetting about me… he’s here.

“Is this real?” I ask, a sob escaping.

“God, I hope so.” He utters.

In a second, we’re in each other’s arms and his lips attach to mine as if no time had passed. He kissed down my jaw to my neck where he buried his face, gripping me tighter to him.

I run my fingers through his hair, basking in the feeling of being with him again. “Tom?”

He withdrew, smiling down at me. “Yes, my love?”

I stare into his baby blues that were looking at me with so much love and happiness, I feel like I could explode. “Thomas William Hiddleston,” he giggles, filling my stomach with butterflies, “I love you.” I finally confess. “For years, I only dreamed of telling you those three words. Having a crush on a man I never thought in a million years would ever give me a second look is so much different than being head over heels in love with the most kind-hearted, funny, polite, charismatic, attractive, caring, sympathetic, unique man I’ve ever met who also happens to be the man of my dreams.”

His lips captured mine again, groaning into my mouth before pulling away. “Darling, I’ve loved you from the second I saw you singing and dancing while cooking in this very kitchen. You captured my heart before I even knew your name.”

I knew from that moment on that we’ll be more than alright. If this separation didn’t weaken- but strengthen how we feel for each other, then we can get through anything life throws at us. We can figure anything out if we have that head over heels, my heart is yours and yours mine, can’t live without you, want to spend the rest of my life by your side, heart-pounding, staggered-breathing, knee-trembling, soul-freeing kind of love that you usually read about in books...

epilogue...

Permanent taglist: @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @hiddlephile @naniky

#tom hiddleston #meet me at the chalet #mmatc #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x female!reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston series

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || night one.

A/N: It’s here. I’ve finally finished this short story and I am so anxious to start posting. I still can’t believe it’s done. I just hope everyone likes it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: 634 (I know this is short but aren’t prologues supposed to be short? I promise every chapter will be much longer!)

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, depressing thoughts (future chapter), mental breakdown (future chapter), Tom being Tom

night one. || day one. ||

White.

Bright light coming in all directions.

Thick blankets coat the world around, freezing it all in time.

Cotton balls of ice crystals breeze by creating a shield, blinding the sight of any fool who dared to venture out.

“That is the last time I rely on you for checking the weather.” I scold my agent as I’m unsure of where exactly I am at the moment. She mistakenly watched the forecast for the week AFTER my vacation at the chalet this fool is currently trying to find. I shouldn’t have counted on her info without double-checking it myself first. I trust her wholeheartedly with my newfound career as an author, but she isn’t the most reliable on other things.

“How many times do I have to say ‘I’m sorry?’ My mind was preoccupied with planning this book release that you’ve been working towards for years. It kind of fogged out the less important details.” She apologized, but a lot of good that’s doing. Thankfully I had enough common sense to rent a vehicle with all-wheel drive in case this was to happen.

The resort I booked my vacation at is secluded and quaint, only a few rooms available at a time. The pictures on their website paint a relaxing atmosphere of a log cabin with stone floors and fireplace, busts of different wild game tastefully scattered on the walls, and warm textured rugs creating a beautiful rustic feel. Every inch whispers “I’m home.” It’s one of the many reasons why I chose this place. I wanted a carefree time away somewhere cold, not much caring for the beach. I prefer sweatshirts over bikinis, blankets over towels, hot chocolate over coconut drinks, and fireplaces over bonfires.

After what felt like hours, I managed to survive the drive and finally reach my destination. Only two other cars were parked out front which was comforting, knowing I won’t have many people to deal with. I parked near the front, only guessing where the lines were. The parking lot was already covered with at least an inch of snow, showing no sign of stopping anytime soon.

Stumbling through the door, I was greeted by warmth. The stone fireplace is in plain sight, warming the ever-cold guests as they enter. I get lost in the décor as I match the pictures with everything I’ve seen so far. I’ve been staring at all of them daily, my excitement to finally get here not giving me any self-control. The beautiful gray stone on the floors gives the log cabin a more modern feel, but still cozy thanks to the rugs.

 “Ah! You must be my last guest.” An older man, maybe mid-50s greeted me from behind a desk with a live-edge wood countertop. “I’m glad you made it before the brunt of the storm.” He typed on his computer before handing me the key to my room, even carrying my bags for me. “You are welcome to anything in our top of the line kitchen and all of the amenities we offer. Fresh towels are in the linen closets in your room, as are any extra toiletries you may need. The wi-fi password is on your bedside table and TV remotes are in the top drawer of that table.”

He rattled off a few more things before concluding, “Now due to the blizzard, I won’t be staying here. If you are to need anything else, my cell phone number is listed on the phone.” He stopped at the doorway but turned back, “There is one other man staying here who is wanting to leave tomorrow, but from the looks of it, he won’t be leaving anytime soon.” He sent me a friendly smile. “Please enjoy your stay.” And with that, he took his leave, leaving me to my own devices.

day one...

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[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || last day.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~1.5k (sorry it’s short.)

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, Tom being Tom, painful goodbye (I actually cried writing it, btw)

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. || day four. || day five. || day six. || last day. || one year later. ||

“One year from today, we meet back at the chalet if we still feel the same.” He says to me, tightly holding onto my hand. We’re standing inside the airport, already passed security. Our respective flights are on opposite ends of the terminal so we have to part ways here.

“One year from today.” I repeat back, committing the date to memory. I was having a very hard time trying to swallow back the tears that were threatening to come out. I had cried all of the previous night thinking about not seeing him after today. I didn’t want him to see that this was killing me on the inside, but I wasn’t doing a very good job.

“Darling, look at me.” My lip quivers at his plead. I take a deep breath before meeting his eyes for the first time today. They were brimming with tears, mirroring mine. “Look after my heart, for I’m,” a heavy tear fell from his left eye, “for it belongs to you now.”

I drop my backpack, throwing my arms around his neck. “Mine has been yours long before this and will be until you say otherwise,” I whisper back. The tears spill over as I soak up possibly the last time I’ll ever be in his arms. His grip tightens around me, feeling his breathing become uneven. We stay this way for what feels like hours, neither one of us wanting to let go. 

I pull back slightly to find his cheeks wet and eyes red. I lean forward bringing my lips to his, hoping it relays all of the emotions I wish I could express.

We pull apart far too soon for either of us, resting our foreheads together. “Doubt thou the stars are fire; Doubt the sun doth move; Doubt truth to be a liar: but never doubt I love.” He whispers, speaking back the words I tried to tell him with the kiss.

We kiss one more time before we part. I look back at his retreating figure as a new wave of tears starts to build. As if he feels my stare he pauses, looking back too. Even from here I can see the tears he has. We nod and finally, walk away.

After hours on the plane, I finally arrived back home. I flopped on my bed, feeling numb from all of the crying I’ve done within the last 24 hours. My mind immediately goes to Tom. I wonder where he is now. Was he on his way back to London or did he have to go to LA? Was he thinking about me? Was he hurting as much as I was?

It’s at this time I wish we had swapped numbers but I remind myself of why we didn’t. One year with no contact… what the hell was I thinking?

I unfollowed him on all social media while waiting for the plane to take off. The only reminders of this trip were the numerous pictures I took of him throughout the week, some without his knowledge. I placed those in a hidden file so I wouldn’t be tempted to look at them every day for the next 365 days.

I call my best friend and tell her I’m back. She comes right over hearing the distress in my voice. I tell her everything once she gets to my place. As predicted, she flipped out once I told her the true identity of “Will,” but then she calmed down once I told her about the heartbreaking end to it. She understood where I was coming from, given we’ve only known each other for a week. This isn’t “The Bachelor.” We may have strong feelings now, but things change once we’re out in the real world. She commends me for being strong and then offers to stay the night so we can mourn properly with Chinese food, rom-coms, and alcohol. I couldn’t be more grateful for her friendship than right now. I’m definitely going to need it…

A couple weeks go by, I’m sitting on my couch writing when she calls me. “Dude, I know you’re not really supposed to keep tabs on him but as your best friend I have. And I say you need to look up ‘The Late Late show’ from last night. Tom talks about you.”

Instantly I turn on my laptop and search for it. I click on the video from a few hours ago and watch. I see Tom sitting on the rounded couch with two other celebrities that are irrelevant to me at the moment. He looks as amazing as ever. He’s in a signature suit that he wears so well. He thanks the audience for the love before him and James start talking.

“So, Thomas?” James starts, focusing on him first.

“Yes, sir?” Tom answers, fidgeting with his suit jacket.

“I heard you went on vacation recently, you lucky bastard.”

“I did, yes.” He nods. “I was at a little chalet in Aspen for two weeks.”

“Why in the world would you go there? You’re supposed to go somewhere warm for vacation. Aspen is cold! Didn’t they just get a huge blizzard there? I heard they got like a foot of snow.” 

Tom chuckled, “Yes they did. I was originally only going to be there for a week, but thanks to the blizzard, I had to extend my stay for another. A second guest and I were stuck there alone for the latter portion.”

“It was just the two of you?” James asks. He nods. “What did you guys do for all of that time?”

“We had a lot of fun. We cooked, we read, she wrote-“

“She?” James shamelessly interrupts. The audience “ooh-ed” at the mention of a female. “The other guest was a female?” He asked for everyone.

Tom nervously chuckled, poking his tongue out the way he does. “Yes, she was. We spent the entire week relaxing, having fun, and getting to know one another. She’s a very special woman, one of the strongest women I’ve had the pleasure of meeting.” My heart actually felt happy for the first time since we parted. I can’t believe he’s even talking about me. He’s known for being tight-lipped about anyone new in his life; only vowing to tell people when there was something massive to tell.

“Are you going to see her again?”

“God, I hope so.” Tom blurts out with a big smile on his face.

“Oooh Thomas!” He teases, slapping Tom’s knee with his note cards, cueing the audience to laugh. “Do you have a crush on this girl?- You’re blushing so hard right now!” He points out as Tom’s cheeks have indeed added a slight pink hue to them.

“Erm,” he hesitates letting out a sigh, “yes James, I do. Very much so.”

My hand flies to my mouth, amazed at his confession. He’s telling the world he has a crush on me. Even if no one knows it’s me, it’s still monumental for him.

“Oh my gosh! I can’t believe this!” James freaks. “Does she know?”

“She does, yes. I told her before we parted.”

“And what happened?” James pried.

“And we agreed to take some time to think about if this is really what we want. It had only been a week, we wanted to make sure we weren’t just infatuated with what we had while secluded in our own little world. We made a pact to meet back at the chalet in a year if we both still feel the same. If we both show, which I hope happens, we’ll figure it out. If not, then we have our answer.”

“This is the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard!” James shrieked, bouncing in his chair. “Have you been in contact with her since?”

“Unfortunately, no. That was one of the restrictions she came up with. No contact until then.”

“What if she’s watching tonight? Is there something you’d like to say to her?” 

“There are loads of things I wish I could say to her, but I think I’ve already shared too much.” James egged him on to say something, telling him this might be his only chance to do so. So, he took it. “The one thing I will say is…” He paused, trying to think of the best thing to say. He looked straight into the camera as if he was looking right at me. “Darling, I never should have let you walk away from me that day in the airport. That was probably the worst decision I could have ever made.” His hands covered his heart. “I’ve felt utterly lost ever since. I sincerely hope I will see your magnificent smile again soon.”

I had to wipe a tear away as I closed my laptop, shocked at what I just watched. Tom talked about me on national television, no doubt it’s going viral right now and the Hiddlestoners are going crazy over their idol talking about liking someone publicly.

My one and only hope is he still feels this way in a year. 

I have to remind myself, “Whatever will be, will be.” I have to have faith that everything will work out in the end, no matter what the outcome. I just need to not think about it and focus on my next book and living my life for the next year. 

Someone once said, “If you love someone, set them free. If they come back, you know it was meant to be. If not, it wasn’t.” I hope they were right…

one year later...

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#tom hiddleston #meet me at the chalet #mmatc #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x female!reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston series

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || epilogue.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~2.5k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: Just fluff

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. || day four. || day five. || day six. || last day. || one year later. || epilogue. || bonus. ||

To say these past two years have been hard would be an understatement. After we met up again, we stayed for the rest of the week to talk and figure out the most important details of this relationship we were entering into. Many hours of serious talks and making up for lost time, we jetted off and have been together ever since.

Being with him has been the most challenging but rewarding time of my life. I’ve also never been so terrified of losing someone before so I try and spoil him as often as I can to show him I appreciate him. After a long day of filming, I have a home-cooked meal ready for him as well as a cup of his favorite tea. I give him shoulder and back rubs if he’s stressed. Small gestures to show him how crazy I am about him.

Tom has also treated me like I’m the most special person in his life. He spoils me with small gestures as well as extravagant ones such as taking me to Norway for my birthday to explore my Norwegian roots and baking brownies for finishing the last book in my series. He’s been there for me for everything, to when I got overwhelmed while writing my books to similar situations we found ourselves in years before. They don’t happen very often but having him there for every single bad moment has made a world of a difference. He always shows me that he’s here for the long run, no matter what the world throws at us. He has truly become my rock, my confidante, my love, and my life. He is my best friend and the love of my life. I don’t know what I would have done if I didn’t have him.

After leaving the chalet, we flew to London to meet his family. My nerves were already on edge, but I was more worried about meeting Bobby. I was never a huge dog person, having grown up with cats. Don’t get me wrong, I like dogs. They’re too precious for this world and we don’t deserve them. He quickly became my baby though after meeting him. He was easy to love, just like his daddy.

When I did meet his family though, they welcomed me with open arms. They were elated to finally meet his “famous author girlfriend” who “stole our Tom’s heart.” They were getting tired of him only talking about me, our week together, and how he couldn’t wait to see me again. He was thoroughly embarrassed but I assured him that my best friend went through the same thing. They also loved the fact that Tom finally brought someone home. I was surprised how well I got along with them. It was more shocking that they had all read my book and loved it, wanting to know what else I had planned (apparently Tom made them all read it when he saw them after we met). 

And because of the series finally being finished, I’ve decided to reveal myself which is the reason why I’m backstage at Ellen. I told my agent when I first hired her that if I were to ever relinquish my anonymity I would want to do it on Ellen’s show. When my agent called the show, they were thrilled. 

So now I’m here, freaking out about the whole thing. Thankfully, Tom is here being the rock I need right now. He hasn’t left my side the entire morning. He made me breakfast, he held my hand on the ride over here, he sent me encouraging smiles when I glanced at him from the make-up chair, and now his arms are secured around my waist as I stand backstage. I’m just waiting for the show to start. I briefly met with Ellen, only adding to my nervousness. She raved about my books, having read the backs of all of them. Her joke broke some of the nervous tension but as soon as she left and a PA came in telling me I needed to take my place, it was back.

 “I’m so nervous, I’m shaking! I hate being the center of attention and I hate public speaking. Why did I decide to do this again?” I ramble, hearing Ellen’s monologue in the background.

“Because my darling, you deserve to be recognized. Your books are phenomenal, and everyone needs to know who the creative genius behind them is.” He placed a kiss on my temple. I tried taking a few deep breaths.

“I wish you could go out there with me,” I whine. “This would be so much easier if I had your hand to hold.”

“I know, love. However, I am looking forward to being the one backstage for once. I can be the proud boyfriend watching my love’s success.” His pride is beaming off of him in waves. Usually I’m the one filled with pride for him on the sidelines. It’s odd being on the receiving end but having someone being proud of me is an indescribable feeling.

“One minute, Miss Ehlby.” The PA warned. “Just walk out and around the chair, greet Ellen, and then take a seat.”

“Break a leg, darling.” He gives me a kiss before I hear Ellen.

“My first guest has just released the final book in her coveted book series that includes ‘Deny’ which she published with two different endings, not telling anyone. They created such pandemonium that she’s been the most sought after author to interview. She’s remained anonymous, using a pseudonym to stay out of the spotlight. Today she is finally ready to come out of the shadows. Please welcome J.J. Ehlby.”

The music started playing and the PA motioned for me to start walking. I followed the light out, doing exactly what the PA told me to do and what I’ve seen countless celebrities do every time I watched the show with my mom. I greeted Ellen with a hug before sitting down on the nice white chair so many famous people have said they’ve peed on.

“Hi J.J.!” She greets again when the audience and music have quieted down.

“Hi Ellen!” I smile back.

“Thanks for being here. I know you could have chosen any other show to do your first interview but clearly you chose the best.” The audience laughs.

“I did choose the best. I told my agent years ago that my first interview had to be on your show whenever I decided to throw my anonymity out the door.” The more words I said the more comfortable I felt. It doesn’t feel like I’m in front of hundreds of people and one of the funniest and kindest people in the world.

“So, why don’t you tell us about yourself? No one knows anything about you except you’re a great writer.” She asks the first question I was prepared for. I was given a list of questions she would be asking so I could know what was coming.

“Well thank you. That’s why I wanted to publish using a pseudonym. I wanted to be able to have my professional and private life be separate until all of the books I had planned came out. With the last book in stores now, here I am!”

“How did you come up with the pseudonym?” Question two.

I explain it the same way I did to Tom all that time ago, “My initials actually. With my name being Jenessee Julia Lynette Borosi, I wanted to still have it be connected to who I am, but not so close that people could easily figure it out. So it became a play on my initials, J, J, L, B.”

“That’s clever,” She comments. “I never would have guessed that.”

“Thank you. I thought so, too.”

“Let’s get to what everyone has been talking about since your books came out. You published two different endings.”

“I did.” I admit, smiling evilly to myself.

“And you didn’t tell anybody.”

“Nope! That’s what initially drew the publishers in. I had posted it online which somehow gained their attention. It wasn’t popular online due to it not having any references to vampires, werewolves, or any sort of fanfiction. But when they contacted me they told me they liked both endings that I had in mind, so I told them that I wanted to do both and not tell anyone. They were immediately on board. No one had ever done anything like this before, so I thought, ‘why not?’”

“And you did a sequel only for one of them?”

I nod, “Yes. With one of the endings, it was finite enough to where it didn’t need one. But the other ending left it open-ended on purpose so that I could write a sequel to it.”

After a few more questions about the books, she asked the one I was most anxious about, “Since you write about love and falling in love so well, do you have that in real life? Do you have that kind of love in your life?”

Tom and I haven’t been very public about our relationship. Only posting non-descript and non-identifying pictures of the other and we never tag the other. We were waiting for my identity to be revealed before we go public. It’s been more fun that way. The fans go nuts for every single picture Tom posts. Everyone wants to know who I am. It’s also given us a chance to get to build our relationship outside of the media. We’ve been very sneaky. It’s tiring but exhilarating at the same time.

“I didn’t while writing the first and second books.”

“But you do now.” She states, not questions.

“I do, yes.” I can’t help the smile on my face as I think about my love backstage watching this. He’s talked about me on a few occasions. After his first interview about the “Chalet Girl,” everyone has asked about it. He did give an update after we officially got together, but he obviously didn’t give any details as to who I was. I’ve always felt giddy knowing he was proud of talking about me. I could imagine that’s how he is feeling now.

Ellen teases me about the instant smile causing my whole face to go red.  “What’s his name? How long have you been together?”

“His name is Will. We’ve known each other for three years and have been officially together for two.” Tom and I decided to use the names we first gave each other to the media so no one would suspect anything, just like when we used them.

The rest of the interview went by smoothly. She asked a few more questions about my books and then surprised the audience with a signed copy of my first book.

The next day Tom and I headed to Burbank from Los Angeles so we could tape an episode of the Late Late show. We were going into it like we hadn’t met before so we could shock the world by revealing that we were actually together and have been for a while. Tom wanted to go public with our relationship on James’ show because that’s where he made his first interview about me and he’s sentimental. He’s all about things coming full circle… such a romantic man I’ve got.

We headed to our separate dressing rooms and taped our “intro” video a while later then we moved onto the actual interview portion. We sat on the blue couch, me being the closest to James, then Tom. We were told someone else would be joining us later for a different segment. He sat a safe distance away from me so no one would think anything was going on.

“Welcome to the show, J.J.!” James greets me.

“Thank you! I’m excited to be here.” I cross my legs at the knee and relax into the back of the couch.

“And good to have you back, Thomas.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s great to be back.” He’s also leaning back with his ankle crossed over his knee. He looks like an absolute snack and there’s nothing I can do about it… stupid interview.

James went on to ask me basically the same questions Ellen did yesterday, bringing up her interview a few times. I repeated my answers trying not to sound like I rehearsed them a million times beforehand. He’d also asked me about my boyfriend, like Ellen did.

“Speaking of lovers, Thomas, how are you and your ‘Chalet girl’? How long has it been now?” James asks Tom, segueing into his portion of the interview.

“We are wonderful. We celebrated two years together this month.” And what an amazing anniversary it was. We traveled to Italy where we indulged in so much pasta and pizza. We also each tossed a coin into the Trevi fountain and took a tour of the Sistine Chapel. It was absolute perfection. I didn’t want to come back.

“So, I take it you’re still pretty infatuated with her.”

“Oh James, I’m more than infatuated with her. She’s the love of my life.” He confesses, sending me a quick glance. “I fully plan on making her my wife someday.”

We’ve talked countless times about our future: where we would want to get married and who we want there, where we want to raise our 2-3 kids, where we would want to retire to if we ever were to- everything and anything that our future may hold. I’m so excited for that time. I’d marry him tomorrow if he asked.

“Am I ever going to meet this lucky girl? You’ve been so secretive!”

“You already have.” He promptly gets up, plopping down right next to me. He wraps his arm around my shoulders before grabbing my face and kissing me. 

“What?!” James gasped. “You two?!” He motions between us with the largest grin on his face. “She’s your ‘Chalet girl’?”

I stare at the man who I have fallen more and more in love with every day for the past three years. He looks at me with such love, devotion, pride… This wonderful man has shown me that I am worthy of love; worthy of his love. That I deserve this and so much more… and I truly believe I do now.

I bury my face in his neck as he answers, “As I mentioned before, she’s so much more than that.” His hand intertwined with mine on his lap. “I don’t know what I did to deserve an incredibly kind, funny, strong, independent, breathtakingly beautiful woman such as her in my life, but I’m the luckiest man. I really am.”

If my heart could fly, it would soar…

bonus...

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Taglist is CLOSED

#tom hiddleston #meet me at the chalet #mmatc #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x female!reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston series

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || day two.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~2.1k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings:  So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, depressing thoughts (future chapter), mental breakdown (future chapter), Tom being Tom

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. ||

“Stop eating the carrot! We need a nose!” I scolded Tom, shaping the mound in front of me. He took another bite to spite me before stuffing it into the head of our snowman.

This morning, Tom was in a pleasant mood. He decided to knock on my door, get on his knees and sing “Do You Want to Build a Snowman?” The laughter that erupted from me would have awoken everybody had there been anyone else here. He was just so cute. He had all of his winter gear on, including a knitted hat with a poof ball on top, his black pea coat, snow boots, and gore-tex gloves. He looked so cozy and warm and just so darn cute, I couldn’t say no. We gathered supplies for dressing our specimen before finally stepping outside. The snow was perfect for snowman making and there was plenty of it.

“I can’t help it,” He whines. “We really should have eaten something before we came out here.”

“Oh yeah? And whose fault is that? Mr. ‘We have to go outside now!’” I mocked him as he was while I was getting ready. He was so pushy! I was under the impression he was a “patient” man. Apparently that is completely disregarded when it comes to making a snowman.

“Can you blame me for being excited? I haven’t built a snowman since I was a child! I didn’t want to miss the perfect opportunity.”

Despite my eye roll, I couldn’t condemn him for it. I also haven’t done this for quite some time which is why I was all for it when he asked and didn’t fight him when he rushed me. Thankfully I packed gloves, a hat, and warm enough boots to withstand the cold just in case.

Whack!

Something hard hit me in the middle of the back. I turn and gape at this mischievous man who was tossing a ball of snow between both hands. A smirk plastered on his face as he watched me through his eyelashes over the top of his glasses. He was doing his best to channel Loki in this moment. Embracing the God of Mischief must be second nature for him after playing him for so long. I can only imagine what he does to get into a character that is a complete 180° from who he really is.

“Did you just throw a snowball at me?” I incredulously asked, raising an eyebrow skeptically at him. If he wants to start a war, he will lose. I played softball for six years and can throw a mean ball. He will regret this.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “So what if I did?” In a second he went from mischievous to playful. The glint in his eyes sparkled in the bright light.

“Then you would be starting a war you are guaranteed to lose.”

Snowballs of all shapes and sizes flew and smashed when they came into contact with body parts, laughter and screeches filled the air, dusts of snow were kicked up as we ran from the other, dodging what was thrown at the other. It was loosely tossed in the other’s face and shoved down the other’s back. It was all fun and games until someone was pelted in the face so hard that glasses went flying off.

Tom fell to the ground instantly, disorienting him enough to lose his footing. I, on the other hand, folded over in laughter with my knees nearly giving out on me. I made my way over to him, trying so hard to breathe through it, but I ended up collapsing in front of him, finally giving into my weak knees. We lay in the snow, cackling at the other, basking in the moment. The second we would stop laughing, we would start back up again. Embarrassingly enough, a few snorts came from my nose to which ignited more hearty laughter from both parties. Tears fell from both our eyes, nearly freezing against our cheeks.

Several minutes passed, the laughter had died down. Silence having filled the air now as we both lay still on our backs, staring up at the gray sky, minuscule snowflakes dusting our faces.

“Hey Jen?” He broke the silence. I hummed back. “You win.”

I sighed in contentment. “I told you I would.”

He chuckles at my smug response before finally peeling himself off the ground. When he leaned down to give me a helping hand, I noticed a red streak just on the edge of his eyebrow.

“Oh my God, you’re bleeding!” His hand flew up to his cut, flinching when he came in contact with it. I started apologizing profusely, adding “I wanted to win, but not like that.”

We retreated inside finding a first aid kit behind the front counter. Being guilt-ridden, I insisted on patching him up, not taking no for an answer. He sat on the couch while I stood behind it so I could assess the damage. Once the blood was cleaned off, it turns out it wasn’t too bad. A piece of ice must have just scraped him.  Easy enough, right?

Wrong. Fixing him was easy, but I quickly found myself losing focus, getting lost in his handsome face, admiring the little details that not a lot of people get the chance to see. Oh how badly I wanted to trace the scar on his forehead that he received a few years ago from running into a stage door. The only imperfection I see in site. I took note of his jealousy-inducing eyelashes any woman would pay big bucks for. Knowing they shield his swoon-worthy blue eyes makes them treasured by many. His ginger lock that beg for fingers to run through them have hints of blond that no one would see unless in the sunlight or up close. My curiosity to see how soft they are nearly takes over my sense of reason.

Thank God he closed his eyes so he can’t see my ogling.

“Will I live?” He asked looking up at me after I finished.

“I think the odds are in your favor.” I patted his shoulder signaling he could get up if he so chooses. “Although, it might leave a gnarly scar, but hey, at least you’ll have a new story to tell.”

“I don’t know which story is more embarrassing: running into a door or getting hit in the face with a snowball.” He chuckled, shaking his head at himself.

“Oh now I’ve got to hear this story.” I plopped myself on the couch, eagerly awaiting him to continue. We were both laughing in no time at all as he animatedly told the story, also going into his lesser known scar stories. We eventually relocated to the kitchen, both of us starving for some sustenance. After he finished his stories, we moved onto mine. They weren’t nearly as entertaining, but he listened with the same enthusiasm as I had his.

It was then I realized just how easy it was to talk to him. He is quite literally the easiest person to talk to. I feel like I could talk to him about anything and everything. I could tell my deepest and darkest secret without any fear of judgment from him. I could tell him all of my fears and insecurities, and he would be there to tell me “it’ll all be okay,” that I’m not crazy for having such thoughts. He would be the shoulder I could cry on if I need it… I could trust him.

Dear God, that’s scary. Trust does not come easy for me. I’ve been burned by so many people I have put my trust in before that I just don’t trust anyone new in my life. Only a few select people get that luxury. My heart wants to add Tom to that short list, but my head is arguing with it, being the voice of reason. If nothing comes from this week, I’ll always be thankful to him for showing me I can let someone in and it’ll all be okay in the end…

Later that night when we had said goodnight, I received a call from one of my best friends.

“So how’s vacation? Still pissed you went without me.” I chuckled at her bitterness. If she could have gotten off work, she would have been here with me, experiencing all that is Tom. a.k.a. #1 on her list. We’ve talked implicitly and explicitly about what we would do if we ever had Tom as our own. When I eventually tell her, she will flip.

“Well,” I started, trying to come up with the best way to explain it all without giving away the most important detail. “The solitude I wanted has been compromised.”

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s just say the only alone time I’ve had is at night.” I was hoping by being extremely vague that by some miracle she would get it. She knew of my plans to lock myself in my room from the second I got here to the second I left. She was looking forward to the same thing if she were to come along.

“Who have you been spending the days with?” She asked, catching on.

“His name is Will.” I knew just by giving those small details, she would understand.

“And you’re just telling me this now? What’s he like?” She fired a million other questions to which I stayed silent.

“I can’t say much, but just know he’s the best person I’ve ever met and I will give you full details when I get home.” After she made me promise at least ten times to tell her everything the second I get back, she was satisfied and we ended the conversation at that.

She is going to kill me when I tell her the truth.

I shrugged at the thought. At least I’ll die knowing I had met the most amazing man there ever was or ever will be.

Lying on my bed after gathering my supplies, I tried to get back to my piece, re-reading it to return to the mindset. I stare at my words in my familiar scribble unable to come up with what to do next. The worst part about being a writer is writer’s block. Not being able to do what you want or being able to put to paper what you have in your head is beyond frustrating. It’s comparable to a doctor not being able to help a patient or a mechanic not being able to find the problem with a car. Not being able to do your job is both annoying and infuriating. It is especially when the reason I came here was to get inspired, and possibly start something new. I did begin something, thanks to Tom’s suggestion, but haven’t been able to get back to it since I stopped last night. Despite him saying he believed in me, I just couldn’t think of anything to write. No matter how many times I would re-read it all, nothing came to me. Nothing.

The only thing that did occupy my mind was him and the way he looked at me just outside my door. Such intensity and curiosity, I had to stop myself from launching at him. Every fiber of my being wanted to latch my lips to his, to feel them capture mine like I’ve seen his do with multiple co-stars. Would they be strong or like pillows? How would his beard feel against my face? Would he moan or sigh as they connected? Or would he pull away before that would even happen? Would he say I was being inappropriate and apologize for making me think otherwise?

Whatever the outcome might have been, it didn’t occur. Dwelling on the past helps no one. I need to get a grip and channel my frustration into writing.

Doing so actually helped me continue, my pen flying across the pages well into the wee hours of the morning. Getting lost in a story is my favorite part of creating. It’s only a hope that the reader gets just as lost. The next thing I knew the sun was peeking through the curtains and the smell of coffee invaded my nostrils from downstairs.

Wow. I haven’t pulled an all-nighter like this since college… I am not going to be any fun today.

I left off on a cliffhanger to inspire me when I return to it later. I had fully planned on just sliding everything to one side of the bed and crashing, but then I smelled bacon.

day three...

Permanent taglist: @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @hiddlephile @naniky

#tom hiddleston #meet me at the chalet #mmatc #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x female!reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston series

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || day six.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~3.3k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, Tom being Tom

This includes the very first scene I planned for this fic. The song inspired me to write this. Because of that, I made it their song- here it is, if anyone wants to listen to it.

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. || day four. || day five. || day six. || last day. ||

My room phone woke me up the next morning. My hand flailed around the table, trying to find it without opening my eyes. When it found something that felt like a phone, I yanked it to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Good morning, Miss Borosi!” Even in the fog of sleep, I still recognized the voice to be the man that greeted me on the first day. “I wanted to call to let you know the plows will be by tonight to clear the road up here and I will be down with the bobcat to clear the parking lot so you and Mr. Hiddleston can be on your way tomorrow morning. I want to thank you for your patience and hope you have a wonderful last night.” He hung up after that, leaving me to process what he just said.

The plows are coming tonight. We can leave tomorrow. This dream of a vacation will be over. Tom and I will go our separate ways, possibly never seeing each other again… 

I knew this day was coming, but I didn’t think it would come this quickly. And we haven’t even talked about if we want to stay in contact after this. I know I would. After what happened last night, he might want to too.

But the nagging question I have now is how much could we even be in each other’s lives? He will be busy nonstop with all of his projects coming up, having no personal time in between. He will be traveling around the world for months on end, going to event after event, promoting. How would he even have time to do anything but that? And if my book takes off, I’ll need to get started on my next idea and focus solely on that for as long as it takes… How could we make anything work?

When I left my room shortly after wallowing, I couldn’t find Tom anywhere. I knocked on his door, nothing. He wasn’t in the kitchen, the living room, or the gym. It wasn’t until I was about to go back to my room when I heard some ruckus outside. I wrapped one of the blankets from the living room around my shoulders before I cracked open the front entrance.

There he was, with his back to me, shoveling the sidewalk in front of the chalet. What stood out against all of the white were two cars that had previously been buried under a mountain of snow. He had also cleared a perimeter around each of the cars so they could get out easier.

He must have gotten the same call I did this morning. So being the gentleman he is, he decided to clear off both of our cars and clear most of the snow out for us. God this guy… I seriously can’t even believe he’s real.

I closed the door back up and returned to the kitchen. I filled the kettle with water and set it on the stove. He’ll be frozen by the time he comes in so the least I could do is make him some hot tea to warm him up again. I also started the coffee machine so he would also have a choice of warm beverage.

In the meantime, I heat up some of the leftover egg bake from yesterday and find a spot at the table. My mind is preoccupied with ideas of my next book concept, jotting down a few down in a small notebook I like to carry around until I hear the door open.

“Darling?” He calls out having smelled the coffee being made.

“Dining room.” I answer back, finishing my point before I felt two frozen hands press into my neck. A very unattractive noise came out of my mouth as I cringed. “Not cool!” I cry when he withdrew.

“Sorry love. I saw an opportunity and I had to take it.” He disappeared into the kitchen with a huge grin on his gorgeous red face. Oh how much I’m going to miss seeing that face right away in the morning…

He joined me a short time later after making himself some soft boiled eggs and toast. I gagged when he dipped the toast in the runny yolk. The smile that came on his face showed just how much he enjoyed it.

“So, you got the call?” He asked after he’d finished. I nodded unable to think of what to say. He nodded back, seeming like he didn’t really know what to say either. He got up, coming behind me. He kissed my cheek. “I’m going to take a shower. Thank you for the tea and coffee.”

“Thank you for clearing off my buried car.”

The rest of the day was very solemn. We didn’t do or talk much. We just laid on the couch, enjoying the others company while we still can. I’ve noticed throughout the week that we don’t need to do much to have a good time. The simple things bring the most peace and joy. It’s nice to find someone who is the same as I am.

I excused myself to take a shower after he told me to go put on the nicest clothes I’d packed. He also instructed me not to come out until he came to get me. I reluctantly did as he said, although I was curious to know what he had planned. I laid out my favorite forest green long sleeve, leggings, and a pair of brown boots before jumping in the shower. 

As I waited for him to knock on my door, I sat reading over everything I wrote over this vacation. It was honestly the best work I had ever done. Maybe it’s because this short story feels more personal than anything I’ve ever written. I put more of myself in this than I do with anything else. I based her reaction off of what mine would be if I were in that situation. My feelings of love towards him and that loss I would feel if I ever lost it…

Damn it.

I fell back onto my bed. Did I really feel that way? I mean, I knew I was extremely attracted to him and had a great admiration towards him before this, and slowly after getting to spend time with him and getting to know the real him, they turned into real feelings… but there’s no way they progressed that much within a week… no. No way.

Then why does my stomach feel like a giant knot when I think about leaving without him?

Ugh. Stop.

I tried to busy my mind with doing my make-up and blasting music in my bathroom while doing so. It helped for a while. You know until I heard the three knocks on the door.

My heart both dropped and wanted to explode when I opened the door. He stood there with his hands behind his back dressed in a simple navy suit with a white shirt, and dress shoes. Well I sure feel underdressed… 

He took a moment to take in my appearance. I shifted nervously as he did so. “Evening, love.” He greeted. “You look absolutely stunning.” He held out his hand for me. When I placed it in his, he brought it to his lips. “Would you care to join me for dinner?”

I couldn’t hold back a nervous laugh. “What, what is going on?”

“Close your eyes.” He instructed.

I hesitated before doing so. He kept his hand on mine that was on his arm and told me when to take the steps. We walked into the dining room before he stopped me. “Okay, you can open them now.”

What I opened my eyes to was probably the most romantic sight I’ve ever seen. All of the other tables and chairs were moved out of the room, leaving only one set up in the middle. The whole room was lit up with candles that were scattered around the room. A bottle of champagne and two flutes were sitting on the table as well as two place settings. The only things missing were rose petals but I’m actually glad there aren’t any. It would have been too much.

“What is all of this for?” I ask amazed he went through all of this trouble.

His hand intertwined with mine, bringing it to his lips again. “I think it’s about time I treated you to a proper date.”

A… date?

I couldn’t find the words to express how shocked I am. He worked all day to create this for me. He wants our last night together in this chalet to be special. How in the world did I deserve this?

“Now if you could please take your seat, I will go get the first course.” He whispered in my ear before pushing my chair in.

“First course?!” I exclaimed. I turned to protest, but he had already disappeared into the kitchen.

After a simple Caesar salad course and a delicious breaded Chicken Cordon Bleu with a Dijon cream sauce, roasted potatoes, and steamed broccoli, I was stuffed. I thanked the Lord I was wearing leggings instead of anything more restricting. I felt a stuffed at the chicken was. I would have been embarrassed if he hadn’t already seen me scarf down many, many meals already.

“Don’t get too comfortable, darling. We still have dessert.” He grabbed our clean plates to bring them to the kitchen.

“Dessert? You’re kidding me right? I don’t think I could eat anymore!” I lean against the table as I usually do when I’m literally too full to support myself.

“Oh but sweetheart, you will want this dessert.” He disappeared again into the kitchen. I heard some preparations being done but I glued my butt to the chair, so full I couldn’t move.

“Could you close your eyes for me again, love?” He yelled from the other room.

“Ugh, fine. So mysterious.” Using my hands to cover my eyes, I eagerly anticipate what he had in mind. I hear something be placed in front of me, feeling his presence behind me, his warm hands finding my shoulders, and his lips to my ear. “Open.”

I gasped as I took in what was in front of me. The most beautiful brownie was sitting in a bowl, topped with vanilla ice cream that was slowly melting. I told him days ago that my favorite dessert ever was a warm brownie with vanilla ice cream. And since then, I have been craving it. How is that he knows what I want without me actually having to say it?

“I think I just found room in my hollow leg.” I retracted my earlier statement. He chuckled before returning to his seat to enjoy his dessert as well. The brownie was perfectly warm with so many chocolate chunks and the chilled vanilla ice cream… oh God, it was heavenly. I was disappointed when I’d finished, but completely satisfied.

“This has been the best way to end the most amazing vacation I’ve ever taken.” I stated as I leaned back on the table.

“It’s not over yet.” He proclaimed, getting up once again. He took our dishes into the kitchen before returning with a glass in his hand. He set it in the middle of the table before slipping his phone out of his pocket. He fiddled with it before setting it into the glass. “On the first day we met, I heard you singing along to this in the kitchen. From that point on, you mesmerized me. I knew I had to dance with you to this song at least once while we were here in order to come full circle.”

Familiar piano notes filled the room, flooring me. I gaped at him incredulously. This was one of my favorite songs at the moment.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, holding his hand out to me. Even though he knows my dancing skills are atrocious, I’d be an idiot to decline.

We slow-danced around the room like we had created our own world; circling around the room completely entranced in the other. He pulled me to him, I held onto his shoulder and his hand for dear life. I felt his large hand caressing my back, holding me to him as we moved. He’d spin me and dip me at the perfect moments of the song, always bringing me back as close as possible. Our eyes never left the others.

During a break in the song, it was like the world paused. He had spun me out again, holding on to my hand as a lifeline. We gazed at each other and suddenly the world shifted… Something in him shifted.

His lips crashed into mine just as the music continued. The best way I could describe it would be through the lyrics of the song we’re currently listening to. My body felt like it was on fire like a thousand suns and I couldn’t burn it out even if I wanted to. His soft lips moved against mine with so much passion, my knees gave out. His arms wrapped around my body, keeping it locked against his. Mine found his neck, gripping him so tightly, I was afraid if I did this would all be a dream.

All too soon we pulled apart, but not before giving me one final lingering kiss. The kind of kiss I found it hard to open my eyes again. I felt his lips at my ear, whispering in my ear the last line of the song, “I’ve got a Hunger in me.”

He cradled my face again, bringing our eyes back together. “If I told you, you held my heart in your hands, would you believe it to be true?” He looked into my soul, conveying every sense of the truth.

My hands found his lapels, tugging his chest closer. I rested my forehead against it and took a few deep breaths. My heart was racing at his words. There is no way he would say that if he didn’t mean it. He’s not the type of person who just says things to say them. I know I believe him. He holds mine, too. He has since before I met him…

But I honestly don’t know how we would make anything work. All of last night, I tried to think of every option we would have after tomorrow. Would we even make it in the real world? It’s been just us for a week. We haven’t had to worry about anything but spending time together.

When would we ever be able to see each other? He’s got a million things to do in the next year and it’s bound to be more as time goes on. He’ll be traveling the world and I’ll still be in the Midwest. I’ll have to be focused on my next book or else I could be in deep trouble with my publisher.

But even I know I could write from anywhere. It’s not like I have to stay in one place to write…

Even if I did go with him to everything, what would I be doing all day if I’m not writing? Sitting in a hotel room while he’s off doing his job? Literally waiting for him to come back and having him exhausted from working, he more than likely won’t want to even do anything after that. I’ll be alone. What kind of life would that be?

I’m not saying it wouldn’t be fun to travel with him. Traveling with him would be a dream come true. He could show me a whole new world that I’d never be able to see otherwise. But he’ll be working. He won’t have much downtime, therefore, not a lot of time we could spend together.

I don’t see a solution to this where we come out of this unscathed.

I look back up at him; I look into the eyes of the man of my dreams. The man that has made me feel more loved than I have in a very long time, even when I thought I didn’t deserve it. He has changed my life… 

The words that come out of my mouth I never thought I would say. “What are we doing?” I croak out, my voice cracking.

The look on his face broke my heart. His eyes lose hope, his smile fades, and his shoulders lose some of their sturdiness… God I feel horrible.

“I don’t understand.” He shook his head slightly.

“I believe every word you’ve ever said to me. You’ve made me feel things I never thought I would feel again. You’ve let me be myself without any judgment and I could never thank you enough for that.” I sighed, looking down at my fidgeting hands, wanting nothing more than to thread them through his. “But out there, I just don’t see how we could work.” I tried to walk him through everything that had been on my mind. With every word I could feel my heart break more and more.

“But darling, I-”

My hand flew up to his lips so quickly, I didn’t think I could move that fast. “Please, don’t.” I beg. If he says what I think he was going to say, it would 100% change my mind. I’ve already thought of a plan though... “I have a proposition.”

“I’m all ears.” He eagerly answered when I removed my hand. He immediately took it in his and held it close to his chest. I could feel his heavily beating heart through the back of my hand. He was just as scared as I was about this, but I knew this was the right thing to do.

“Hear me out,” I start. “I think we should go back to our lives. You go back to being the amazing actor and the even better human being that I know you to be and I’ll go back to being an anonymous writer.”

“So far, I’m not liking this plan of yours.” He interrupted, gently squeezing my hand.

“Please let me finish.” He nods before I continue, “We go back. We have no contact. No following on social media, no exchange of numbers- nothing.” I could see him beginning to protest so I quickly kept going, “And then after a year, if we still feel the same way we do today, we meet back here.” This seemed to spark something in him. I could see the hope slowly returning to his eyes.

“Obviously the ideal situation would be that we both come back. If that happens then we’ll figure it out. Because if we can go a year without speaking and still feel the same as we did after only knowing each other for a week, then we can get through just about anything.” I would love to say I’m an optimist and say I know we would both come back. Thinking about how remarkable it would feel to finally be back together after a year of yearning… but I’m not a positive thinker. It’s better than thinking of the alternative. I couldn’t imagine coming here again thinking he would show up only for him to not… “If only one of us comes back or no one shows up at all, then we have an answer and we move on.” As I say this out loud, my heart drops. 

He looks away from me, down at our hands, his thumb running up and down mine. I see the wheels turning in his head as he’s thinking about it. He enfolded me in his arms, his hand held my head gently massaging the spot. He takes a few deep breaths as I hear his heartbeat slow a little. He kisses my temple before speaking, “I still don’t like it…” He trails off, “but I think that’s fair.”

I sincerely hope I don’t regret that decision...

last day...

Permanent taglist: @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @hiddlephile @naniky

#tom hiddleston #meet me at the chalet #mmatc #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x female!reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston series

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || day one.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~5.7k (told you it’d be longer, but I promise they’re not all this long)

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, depressing thoughts (future chapter), mental breakdown (future chapter), Tom being Tom

night one. || day one. || day two. ||

The next day, the stillness greeted me. The same feeling I would get waking up on a Saturday afternoon after a blanket of snow coated everything for the very first time. Like the snow froze time, nothing moving or wanting to disturb the serenity. It’s one of those days where getting out of bed is optional. This feeling is exactly what I was wanting while on this vacation.

I could have stayed in bed all day, but my stomach protested pretty quickly after sleep left me. Climbing out of my comfy cocoon, I stretched every muscle, ridding it of any trace of tiredness. Gosh, I haven’t had this heavy of sleep in years! What are these mattresses made of? Magical clouds?

I took in my room. It’s a complete contrast to the lobby. Modern dark gray walls complement the black carpet. White faux fur rugs sit at each side of the King sized bed to contradict the dark. Clean white sheets adorn the bed with black and gray accents on the comforter and in the pillows. The windows and doors are framed with a natural light wood color to bring the modern touches down a notch.

Opening the black-out curtains revealed the floor-to-ceiling windows with the most picturesque view I’ve ever seen. Pine trees are covered with snow, weighing down every branch. The still falling snow is a mixture of tiny cotton balls and glitter. All of the white nearly blind me, my eyes not used to the light yet. But still, my heart swells. Vacation begins.

I quickly throw on the most comfortable outfit I packed: a dark gray cowl neck sweatshirt with black, white, and purple Zubaz. I slightly flinched when I took in my appearance in the bathroom mirror. Leftover make-up flecks were under my eyes. My make-up remover wipes are obviously not doing their job properly… I ran some warm water over my face to get rid of them. Putting my long, wavy hair into a braid was the last thing I did before leaving my solitude.

 As I flipped on the light in the kitchen, I hesitated in the doorway. He wasn’t kidding about “top of the line.” Top notch stainless steel appliances: double ovens, 8-burner stove top, industrial sized refrigerator, and the biggest microwave I’ve ever seen. There were also all of the small appliances that anyone would need. If I were a chef, I would be in heaven. I almost don’t feel worthy enough to be in here.

Picking my favorite playlist, I dove into my own little world. As the music flooded the room, my body carried me throughout the expanse of the kitchen collecting every ingredient, utensil, and bowl I need to make French toast with strawberries. Jamming to just about anything that would pop up as everything came together.

Applause broke my reverie, my heart leaping out of my chest from fright.

Spinning around, clutching my chest I see the last person I ever expected to see. Leaning against the door frame with his long and lean body adorned in a white t-shirt, a black zip-up hoodie, and hip-hugging sweatpants, a book stuffed under his armpit, a charming smirk was plastered on his gorgeous bearded face… was Tom freaking Hiddleston.

What in the world is he doing at a small chalet in the middle of the mountains in the states when he could be at some luxury, private resort in Europe? How does he even have the time to be here? Doesn’t he have a huge movie coming out soon, play rehearsals, and two TV shows in the works that he should be out promoting? How does he have any time to do anything personal at all?

Although, as his fan, I’m proud he is finally taking some time for himself. He’s been busy nonstop since his first Marvel movie. He deserves to take some time for himself for some much-needed R&R. No screaming, no cameras in his face, no signing autographs- total privacy he so wants and deserves. That reason alone is why I will not make my admiration known, not right away at least. He does deserve all of the credit he is due, but I would like his vacation to remain a peaceful one.

He cleared his throat, “I apologize for scaring you, but I thought I should make my presence known before you were to go on.” He spoke so eloquently, it was hard to ignore the way his beautiful blue steel eyes radiate with restfulness this getaway has finally given him after so long. “And I must say, you have the most eclectic taste in music.” He added while stepping in.

His sudden movement snapped me out of my frozen state. “Well it never hurts to have a variety.” I turned back to the stove. “And don’t think that complimenting my musical interests gets you off the hook for giving me a heart attack before I got food in my stomach.”

“Oh I wouldn’t dream of it.” Even though my back was to him, I could hear the smile in his tone. “How can I make it up to you, then?”

“Hmm, I don’t know.” I flipped the piece of bread onto its other side, loving the golden brown color. I turned slightly back to him. “I thought you were leaving today.” I recall the guy yesterday mentioning the other guest was supposed to be departing this morning.

“Well, thanks to Mother Nature, my stay has been extended. Not that I’m complaining though. I wasn’t ready to leave quite yet.” He leaned back against the counter next to the stove, so he was in my line of sight. One thing I heard about him is he is one of those guys that loves eye contact, especially during conversations. His move only proves that is right.

“Why not?” I asked as my curiosity was piqued. Assuming he doesn’t want to leave yet because it means going back to his hectic schedule is reasonable, but one should never assume.

“It’s very serene here. I like it better than the alternative.” Another thing I heard was how notoriously private he is. He only lets the world see what he wants them to see, leaving aspects of him that he reserves only for his close friends and family. Same goes for his relationships. He lets people know what he wants them to, never revealing too much. He must feel that everyone only cares to know why he’s single or if he’s dating anybody. So to him, keeping his private life just that is important. He loves his fans, he’s said so on many occasions, but he deserves to have some form of normalcy in all of the chaos.

“Everyone deserves a little peace and quiet every now and then. Pressing pause on life is good for your sanity.” Plopping the finished piece of French toast on the plate, I turned off the stove.

I can absolutely understand why everyone needs the pause button. Being a writer it is nonstop meetings and phone calls about pages and storyline updates. Everyone is always rushing to meet the deadlines. The trouble is I’ve never been good with deadlines or peer pressure so publishing my first book nearly caused a meltdown. Hence the reason I am on vacation by myself in the middle of the mountains. Now everything is published and awaiting more reviews. My publisher already gave me a heads-up that they were mostly good and that’s all I needed. Criticism isn’t something I’m fond of either. Thankfully my agent, publisher, and editor all agreed to leave me alone while on this trip, so I don’t have anything to worry about. Plus, this gives me a chance to get inspired. Knowing the big guns would want another book proposal as soon as the first one was completed, I already gave them the sequel to my first. That satisfied them for the time being. Now I just have to think of my next project.

“You sound like you speak from experience.” He pointed out, detecting my hidden meaning. He’s perceptive… gotta watch out for that.

“You could say that.” I sighed, moving to chop the strawberries I want on my French toast.

“How rude of me,” He blurted, shaking his head in self-disappointment, “I never introduced myself.” I chuckled at his humbleness. Like he really has to introduce himself to anybody anymore. But being the ever-polite British gentleman, he feels the need to. He held out his hand to me. “I’m,” he paused, “Will.”

I tried to stop the smile that threatened to show but failed. He’s going to use an alias. I guess he wants to remain anonymous. Again, his actions make complete sense to me. When I was given the opportunity to publish my book, I decided to use a pseudonym. Anonymity was important to me as well. That way I could still go about my life without my name being out there. I used a compilation of my initials whereas he is using a shortened version of his middle name.

“I’m Jen.” I fold my hand around his, locking eyes with him. It’s in that moment I registered just how close he got to me. With our height difference, I was forced to look up at him in order to meet those bright blues. As gorgeous as they are in pictures, they’re even more mesmerizing up close. The small section of light brown contrasted the light blue inner iris and the dark blue outline framing everything perfectly. His eyes alone could make anyone’s knees go weak…

“It’s very nice to meet you, Jen.” He muttered, never looking away from me. I could feel the blood rushing to my cheeks, so I transferred my attention to our still connected hands. His large warm hand swallowed my small cold one. Instantly his warmth spread up my entire arm, also sending shivers down my spine.

“The pleasure is all mine…” I brought my eyes back to his. They now had a hint of something in them I didn’t recognize at first. “… Will.”

Before I could get completely lost in his eyes, I pulled my hand out of his, immediately missing the warmth of it. I quickly resumed my slicing, needing something to keep me busy. “So, what are you reading there?” I asked needing to break the tension that was in the air.

“Erm,” He cleared his throat again, taking a step back, “A book my friend told me to check out.” He took it out from under his armpit gripping it with both hands.

“Lemme see.” I wiped my hands off before he handed it over.

My heart dropped. I recognized the cover right away. The one word title flashed across the front like a beacon. The cover art of a guy and a girl standing with their bodies touching, but their hands not letting themselves be connected, denying what they have… My book. He’s reading my book. “Deny by J.J. Ehlby.” I read out loud, careful not to give myself up. I pretended to skim the back cover before handing it back to him. “I didn’t take you for the romance type.”

“What type do you take me as?” He leaned his hip against the counter again, relaxing back into our conversation.

“More…” how do I want to describe this? “well-known and established novelists like Dickens, Tolstoy, Twain, and more importantly Shakespeare. You’re definitely into Shakespeare.” Everything I’ve heard about him mentions his love of Shakespeare. He also participated in a debate about Dickens and Tolstoy. His love of classic literature is something I admired about him. His ability to read, comprehend, and appreciate literary geniuses is rare and praiseworthy.

He chuckled at my obvious stereotyping of him. “Is it because I’m British?” He asked with faux offense attached.

“Yes.” I bluntly answered, only half-kidding.

He full-on laughed at my honesty. He threw his head back and threw his hand over his heart, taking after Chris Evans in that regard. Listening to his laugh echo through the empty kitchen was like listening to the most beautiful symphony. You don’t get to see this type of laugh from him often. It’s always that “hehe” kind of giggle. This was him not caring and letting go. What a sight it was.

I couldn’t help but join in. “Well, am I wrong?” I countered, fully knowing I’m not.

“No!” He choked out, trying to calm himself down. “No, you are not wrong about my love of Classical literature.” He adjusted his glasses back to the tip-top of the bridge of his nose. “But you are wrong about my liking of romance.”

“Oh?”

“I quite like it actually. Shouldn’t falling in love be the best feeling in the world?” I looked up when he didn’t continue. He was watching me like he wants me to understand what he’s trying to say, “That head over heels, my heart is yours and yours mine, can’t live without you, want to spend the rest of my life by your side feeling…” He trailed off, taking a step towards me again. “That heart-pounding, staggered-breathing, knee-trembling, soul-freeing feeling of true love…” His voice dropped a few octaves, losing its sturdiness, only coming out as a whisper by the end. He’s passionate about love, even though he doesn’t have that kind in his life at the moment. How that is even remotely possible is beyond me… His gaze was locked on mine, entrapping me. They were filled with longing and… what I concluded as recognition. Recognition of what? I haven’t figured that out yet… My heart was pounding in my ears almost deafening in the silence. “I quite enjoy reading about two people discovering that feeling.”

All I can think is “Thank God the counter is here” otherwise I would be in a puddle on the floor.

How can a conversation with someone I just met be this intense? How can we be so open with each other with barely knowing the others name? I feel like he’s giving me a look inside his heart but at the same time keeping those guards up that he’s built throughout the years. He’s wearing his heart on his sleeve and showing me everything he’s got right away…

I wrenched myself out from his trance and this time, I took a step away trying to put some distance between us. He may be ready to show me everything, but I’m not. My heart is surrounded by miles of barriers that will be virtually impossible to break down. “Okay, Romeo. I get it.” I sent him a small smile, showing him that I’m not shutting down completely like he might think. “You are a fan of romance.” I strolled over to one of the cupboards, grabbing the powdered sugar, bringing it back over to my plate. “Can I eat my breakfast now?”

“May I join you?” He politely asked, giving me pleading eyes like a toddler gives his mother when asking for a piece of candy or a cookie. Irresistible cuteness.

I stared at the pile on one plate and my prepared plate next to it. I was going to consume the entire lot myself… but I wasn’t about to turn down spending more time with him. I found him a plate, splitting my portion in half for him. A brilliant smile followed nearly knocking me over.

After eating in the dining room, I retreated back upstairs while he offered to clean up. I protested at first, but he insisted, feeling bad that he kept me from eating for longer than I wanted. He practically begged me to so who was I to say no?

I immediately went to my room, locking the door behind me. I rang my agent who was about to get an earful…

“I assure you, Jen, no one had any idea he was there. By all accounts, he was home in London.” She tried to calm me down after I ranted to her before she could even say “hello.” “This could be a good thing!”

“How? I’m supposed to be on vacation, relaxing. How can I do that with the most perfect human being on the planet in the next room?” I flopped back on my bed, eyeing my suitcase full of comfy pants, sweatshirts, and hardly any make-up. I never planned on seeing many people on this trip. The plan was to lock myself in my room for seven straight days before rejoining the world again. I can’t do that now knowing Tom is here. I don’t want him to think I’m a total hermit.

“You also went there to get inspired. With your second book’s first draft already in the editor’s hands, the instant that one comes out, the more they’re going to want. You got lucky with your first few novels already being completed before you even found a publisher, now is the time to get a head start on what’s next for J.J. Ehlby, a.k.a. Jenessee Borosi.”

I rolled my eyes at how predictable she is and for how she used my full name. “So you’re saying I should write a book about this.” I didn’t phrase it as a question for a reason. I’ve been working with her for a year now. She’s been good about not pushing me, but she can’t help it sometimes. I know she has people to answer to, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

“Just think about it.” She didn’t deny my indirect accusation. “That ‘After’ book was originally fan-fiction and it was turned into a movie.”

Again my eyes roll. “Being snowed in, in a secluded chalet in the mountains with one of the world’s most brilliant and most well-known actors? What do you think is going to happen? Because of our solitude, we’ll find something in the other that we’ve been missing in everyone else; that we’ll fall in love in a week’s time? That sounds like one of those cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies that are so unrealistic, they’re laughable. That’s not realistic, that’s a fantasy.”

Although… based off our conversation in the kitchen, that’s already not far off, at least for me. I’ve had a major crush on Tom for years prior to this. Only dreaming of being with him, never believing I would actually get the chance to meet him. Me falling for him isn’t completely far-fetched because I’m halfway there already. But him? No way.

“Just think about it.” She repeated before ending the call.

Think about it I did, but quickly came to the conclusion that I would not exploit Tom like that. This is his private time as much as it is mine. I will not expose anything he doesn’t want anyone else to know. I respect myself, my work, and above all, him too much to stoop that low to get my next book idea.

A knock on my door brought me out of my thoughts.

“Care to join me downstairs?” He asks as soon as I open the door.

“And do what?” I return, not really caring what he was to suggest. I will take every opportunity given to me to be in the presence of this beautiful man.

“We could read if you brought something to read. I know that’s what I will be doing. You could do whatever it is you like to do.” He rambled on nervously. It was adorable actually. What he had to be nervous about, I have no idea. Was he afraid I would say no? That I might have had enough of him already? Impossible. “I figured since we are the only ones here, and more than likely will be for the foreseeable future, we don’t have to-”

“I like to write.” I interrupted, my slight sadist side being fulfilled by his groveling.

He breathed a sigh of relief. “Okay. You can write, and I can read. We can do that… together.” He concluded, all nervousness starting to dissipate.

“Okay. Let me grab my stuff and I’ll meet you downstairs.”

Ten minutes later we were sitting in a comfortable silence on the large U-shaped couch, Tom reading my book and me attempting to think of something to write about. However it proved more difficult than I was expecting. The only thing I could think of was him. How he was sitting just feet away, reading my book. I tried to determine where he was in the book depending on his reaction but was failing at that as well. He masked his emotions with a furrowed brow and straight lips. Occasionally that mask broke letting a chuckle slip out. He’s finding it amusing at least. That’s a good sign right?

“Having some difficulty?” He broke the silence, his eyes never straying from his page. Crap, he saw me watching him. I knew I wasn’t being stealthy, but he hasn’t looked up since we sat down. How could he know that I’m having a hard time getting started?

“You could say that.” I shifted my position, hoping that might make me more comfortable and by some miracle have something, anything come to me. Not only is it difficult having him here reading my book, it’s odd having someone else, period, around while I write. I’m always by my lonesome when doing so.  I catch myself making some funny faces while writing. In order to skip any embarrassment by someone seeing them, I prefer solitude. That also doesn’t bring any outside distractions, like I can listen to music, stare off into space, talk to myself- do whatever it takes to come up with what I want to do next. “Writer’s block is rearing its ugly head.” He snickered, my book falling onto his lap. “This bitch is partially the reason why I’m on my solo vacation.” He set my book to the side, giving me his undivided attention, beckoning me to continue. “I thought a change of scenery might help some.”

“And has it?” He asked, seemingly fully invested in what I have to say. I squirmed in my seat, not used to this kind of attention. Growing up an only child with older and younger cousins who are focused on their little group, I was mostly alone. No one really paid attention to me. The adults criticized my decision to become a writer instead of a typical “9 to 5.” Also not having much in common with the next generation young ones, I kept to myself. Instead turning to writing as an outlet for my loneliness. I was extremely hesitant before getting published. My writing is like my diary. I didn’t know if I ever wanted anyone to see that far into my mind. But after rave reviews from my publisher, I decided to go for it. Even during the initial meetings with editors, they didn’t give me as much attention as Tom is giving me right now. To say it’s odd, but greatly appreciated is an understatement.

“It’s given me ideas but putting an idea to paper is more difficult than one would think.” I think back to my agent’s idea. I never said it wasn’t a good proposal, I just said it was cheesy and more than likely, overdone. Why would I want to do something that’s already been done multiple times? Yes, there are always different perspectives on the same story, but my argument stands.

He continues to ask me questions about writing, each more thoughtful than the next, shocking me to no end. No one has taken this much interest in my writing. Not even my publisher. What really throws me through a loop is how genuinely interested he is. Most people ask to be nice or are curious but drop the topic after one or two questions. Not Tom. His curiosity is refreshing and scary at the same time.

“Have you ever wanted to get published?” He asked one of the most common questions I would get. My answer still remains the same to this day.

“No.” He raised his eyebrows at my answer. Everyone who asks is always surprised by my confession.  I shrug, “Since I started, it never was my goal. I wrote for me. I didn’t need anyone to read anything because that’s not who I wrote for.” I look at the pen in my hand and smile. It rests on the writer’s bump on my middle finger I’ve gained from many, many years of writing. I used to loathe it because it made my hand look funny, but I’ve learned to accept it because it makes me unique. “Having a pen in my hand feels as natural as breathing to me. Ever since I wrote my first “novel” in 5th grade, I’ve almost always been writing. Everyone I went to school with knew me as ‘the girl who writes a lot’.

As I got older, that’s when people started asking if I wanted to publish someday. My answer was always no, because I never thought I was good enough to and criticism and I don’t go hand-in-hand. I read a quote once that said: ‘Wanting to be a writer and not wanting to be rejected is like wanting to be a boxer and not wanting to get punched.’ It’s not the rejection that held me back. I know that’s par for the course, just like it is with acting. My fear was all of the negative criticism that my books were bound to get. I’m the type of person who could get 100 compliments and one negative remark and only focus on the one negative comment. That would stick with me longer than any of the good.” Because of that, I almost said no when I was offered to publish. I was urged to because of the concept I had. The publisher loved that it was never done before and all of the ideas I had from it, they practically begged me. So after a year of editing, it was published a month ago. I have yet to read a single review though. The only thing I heard was it was doing really well.

“I tried putting something online, but because it wasn’t fan-fiction or have any supernatural elements incorporated, it didn’t take off.” I shrugged off its initial failure. That’s what caught my publisher’s attention though. They liked the overall premise and once they heard what I planned on doing with it, they were on board. “Because you know, that’s all anyone under the age of 25 cares about nowadays.” Shrugging again like it was no big deal, I returned my blank pages in front of me, hoping words would have magically appeared while talking. No such luck.

“Have you ever written anything other than novels?” He questioned, taking into account what I’ve told him. Novels have always been my go-to. I just have had so much to say and so much to write that all of my works have turned into multi-chapter stories. “Have you tried a novella or just a short story?” I shake my head. I’ve seen and read short stories and one-shots on Tumblr, but never tried my hand at it. I guess I could try it… “I say, try that. See where it takes that beautiful mind of yours.”

My head snapped towards him. Beautiful? How could he think that if he’s barely scratched the surface?

He smiled sweetly at me, warming my insides more than I ever expected before opening my book back up.

As we returned to the silence, my mind raced at the possibilities. I logged on to Pinterest and looked up some writing prompts to see if anything sparked some ideas. It didn’t take me long before I found one and I was already 5 written pages in. It felt good to write again. Having the ideas pour out of my mind and onto the paper is an exciting feeling that only a writer can appreciate.

Soon enough the sun was setting and neither of us had moved since we sat down. It was a quiet afternoon that I was yearning for while on this trip. And to share it with Tom was just an added bonus.

I only paused when my hand started to cramp. Tom seemed to have noticed so he suggested we think about dinner. It wasn’t until he mentioned food that I realized how hungry I was.

He insisted on making dinner for us since I (unintentionally) made breakfast/lunch for us earlier. He didn’t know what he should make so I made a suggestion: pickle and bacon grilled cheese. He was intrigued by the idea, so he agreed. I tried to help but he shooed me away, telling me to grab a glass of wine and enjoy the show, only asking me how much bacon to use and how many pickles to cut up. He started asking questions about my upbringing to which I did the same. We both discussed the ways our respective parents divorces paved our lives into what they are today but didn’t get too deep or else I would have cried. I would need a lot more wine for that to happen. He at least found the positive aspects from his situation whereas I definitely haven’t. He credits his parents divorce for showing him human frailty and how he can be more compassionate in his understanding of it. With him being 12 when it happened, he was old enough to understand what was happening. I admire him for the way he has taken something tragic and turned into something positive. As if I didn’t know this already, but he’s a much better person than I am.

By the time he was finished making 4 sandwiches: 3 with pickles and bacon and 1 regular, in case he didn’t like my add-ons or in case we were both still hungry afterwards. He wound up loving it, even adding more to his plain one. He couldn’t believe he went so long without trying it and vowed never to go back to regular grilled cheese sandwiches. Mission accomplished.

“Are you going to get back to your writing now? You looked… rather inspired before. I didn’t want to interrupt.” He asked as he walked me to my room for the night. 

We both cleaned up the kitchen, much to his protest. But I argued my point and he couldn’t say no. He told me all about growing up in Wimbledon with his sisters, going to an all-boys prep school to graduating with a “double first” in Classics at Cambridge and attending the Royal Academy of Dramatic Arts. I listened in awe of all he accomplished while I was still in elementary school, before I even discovered my passion for writing. He raved about the small projects he’s done since graduating, focusing on theater. I could tell he was purposely not mentioning Marvel or any other movie he’s done since gaining recognition, wanting his anonymity to stay that. I just listened while handing him dish after dish. Thankfully there weren’t very many, but we took our sweet time doing it. I loved hearing him talk. That accent could make anything sound interesting. But other than that, hearing the passion in his voice as he talked about the theater and how he discovered his love for acting by going as a boy was awe-inspiring. After he rambled, he apologized for only talking about himself while we were cleaning up. I of course didn’t mind, hating talking about myself so it was nice to talk about him and learn more about him from the source and not from the internet.

“Maybe.” I shrugged. “We’ll see if I can get back into the swing of it.”

“Well I believe in you.” He smiled, stopping in front of my door. “I believe you can do it.”

“Oh yeah? How can you be so sure?” His confidence in me is astounding.

“Well, not to sound like a creep, but erm,” he hesitated, “I was watching you before.”

Dear Lord, why? Why did he have to watch me? He saw the faces I make, my staring off into space, and hand gestures I do to recreate the picture in my head… I’m mortified.

“You were so engrossed in what you were writing. I could quite literally see the wheels turning in your head as you were figuring out what to do next.” His tone was filled with as much awe as I did listening to him. “It was mesmerizing.”

Feeling the blush creep in, I looked away from his wonder-filled eyes. No one has ever found something I do “mesmerizing” or anything remotely interesting. So, why does he? Why does he out of all of the people in the world find me so worthy of that kind of praise?

As I sat on my bed after we said good night, I finally could comprehend everything that happened today. I spent the day with Tom Hiddleston. I had uninterrupted quality time with him. No pressure of being watched, judged, or rushed. We had a relaxing day enjoying each other’s company like we were 2 friends on vacation together.

Is he a friend? Or am I jumping the gun here? Would he consider me one after we get out of here? Would he want to keep in contact? Or would I just become a memory that fades as time goes on? On the other hand, why would he even want someone like me in his life? He’s probably got plenty of friends that would be much better company than me. People who he can have intelligent conversations with and go in depth about things I know nothing about. I’d bore him and he’d drop me. But being a gentleman, he’d do it nicely. So there would be that.

I’m not going to have any expectations when it comes to after this week. As far as I’m concerned, after we are clear to leave, we will go our own ways and never think about the other again… well, that’ll only be half true. There’s no way I could ever forget about him. He’ll be everywhere. Me? I’ll only be a memory. He’ll have no reminders of me. He’ll forget about our time together once he gets back to the chaos that is Hollywood. So I will enjoy his attention while I have it…

day two...

Permanent Taglist: @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @hiddlephile @naniky

#tom hiddleston #meet me at the chalet #mmatc #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x female!reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston series

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || day five.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~3.9k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, Tom being Tom

Side note: If you want to read the full short story Jen and Tom act out at the end, you can check it out here!

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. || day four. || day five. || day six. ||

“Are you feeling any better today?” He asks as I walk into the kitchen the next morning. After actually talking about it with someone it did make my shoulders feel a tad bit lighter. I’ve never told anyone about those feelings. No one knew about my middle of the night breakdowns. Not even my best friend. So to open up to an almost complete stranger felt odd but nice. I also don’t think I would have opened up this much if it wasn’t Tom who was the one listening.

“I do, thanks to you.” I snake my arms around his waist instantly feeling more awake than I did a second ago.  

“Lending a listening ear was all I did, sweetheart. You’re stronger than you think. You just have to have more faith in yourself.” He kissed my cheek before returning to the stove. 

“Whatcha makin’?” I stand next to him and observe.

“Since you’ve had a rough couple of days, I looked up some American comfort food and found a recipe for this egg casserole with sausage and cheese. It looked good so I decided to try it.” I chuckled at his wording.

“In the Mid-west we call it ‘egg bake.’ You can never go wrong with making an egg bake for breakfast. My family and I have it for Easter and Christmas morning.”

“I’ve never tried it, so here’s hoping it turns out alright.” He sent me a hopeful smile with a hint of terror.

I couldn’t believe how thoughtful he’s being. I mean, I’ve heard he can meet someone and by the end of the day they’re best friends, but I never expected him to be like this. So comforting and nurturing. All I can say is his mother raised him absolutely right.

Half an hour later, we were lying on the couch, stuffed.  We ate half of the 9” x 13” pan he made. I don’t know why he didn’t try a smaller pan since it is just the two of us. That usually feeds at least ten people.

“Darling?” He spoke after some time in the silence. “I have to tell you something.” 

I sat up to face him. “Okay.” I took in his sudden nervousness. Whatever he’s about to tell me, he’s obviously apprehensive about but it was also mixed with determination.

“I like you.” He started, nearly sending my heart into a frenzy. Even after what happened the past two days, he says that? “And it’s because of how much I like you and how forthcoming you were with me yesterday that I can’t lie to you anymore.”

I flinched at his words. “You lied? About what?” On all accounts, Tom has been known as a very honest man. To know that he lied to me is surprising.

“My name, for one.”

Then it clicked for me. He was coming clean about who he really is to me. He is willing to give up his anonymity because he wants me to know the real him. My heart swelled at the thought.

Now I have a decision to make. When he tells me, do I tell him I knew all along or do I act shocked to find out that he’s actually this big shot actor and not the lowly theater actor he made me think he was?

He continued, “My name is not Will. Well, my first name isn’t. It is my middle name, William. But my name is actually Tom. Tom Hiddleston.” He paused, looking for some sort of recognition in my features. Thankfully, I kept my expression neutral. “And I’m not just a theater actor. I’ve done some movies that have done well and some that have not. Most people would recognize me as Loki from the Marvel franchise. I’m also currently on a TV show in the UK and am in production for another here in the states.” He paused to let that sink in. “I’m terribly sorry for being dishonest with you. When I met you and you didn’t seem to recognize me, I realized I could have a normal interaction with somebody and not have to worry about having a camera in my face. I know it wasn’t fair to not be completely honest with you, but I’m trying to make up for it by telling you everything now.”

“Wow.” I voiced, his earlier words still repeating in my head. He likes me… He actually told me he likes me; the one who just had a mental breakdown a little under 36 hours ago; someone who he met less than a week ago. Never in a million- no, a BILLION years- did I think that would ever happen. Everyone always dreams they’ll be the one who will catch their favorite actor’s eye. Not once did I think that would happen to me…

“I hope you’re not upset with me, love.” I looked in his eyes and saw how truly terrified he was that I would be mad at him. How could he think I would harbor any negative feelings towards this man with a pure heart of gold?

My hand cupped his cheek. He leaned into my hand, eyes never leaving mine. This man is so pure. He’s too precious for this cruel world and yet, here he is.

“Oh you sweet, sweet man…” I shook my head, smiling at how real my feelings for this guy have become within the last few days. “I’m not upset with you. I don’t think it’s even possible for me to think negatively of you.”

He released a huge sigh of relief, a heart-stopping smile breaking his serious demeanor. He pulled me into his lap, wrapping me up in the kind of bone-crushing hug I’ve always wanted from him. 

Since he’s been so truthful with me, I decided to tell him the truth as well. “As long as you’re not upset with me for knowing who you were the entire time.”

“Beg your pardon?” 

I resumed my original position next to him to face him, placing both hands on his shoulders.  “It hurts, doesn’t it? Being lied to. Being told you’re one thing and then learning it’s all a fiction.” I quoted Loki to show I’ve been a fan of his for a while, but not expressing just how much. “Ragnarok.” I whispered in his ear before standing up and going up to my room.

When I came back down with my writing stuff in hand, he was in the exact same place I left him. “Why did you not say anything before?” He asked still bewildered by this turn of events.

“You wanted anonymity.” I shrugged. “I wasn’t about to take away your one chance at a normal vacation. You work hard. You deserve to relax a little and not have to worry about a camera being shoved in your face.” He shook his head in disbelief at using his words against him. “And besides, I wanted to get to know you as you, the man behind the famous actor.” He still was speechless about my confession. He’s about to get another curve-ball thrown his way... “And while we’re being honest, I’ve been keeping something from you too.”

“Oh?” He finally spoke, curiosity taking over.

I fidget with the pen in my hands, keeping my eyes on it. “You know the book you were reading when I got here? Yeah, that’s mine.”

“Beg your pardon?” He says for the second time during this conversation.

“Yep. I wrote it. I’m J.J. Ehlby.” I finally admit. “It’s my pseudonym. It stands for Jenessee Julia Lynette Borosi. J-J-L-B.”

“So all of that stuff you said about not wanting to be published?” He asks, putting the pieces together in his head.

“Not entirely untrue. That’s exactly how I felt before I got published.”

He chuckled after a brief silence. “I know, darling.”

“Say what?” I blurt.

“I knew. You thought you were sneaky with your reaction to my reading it, but I saw that brief panic set in before you erased it. And then it was a complete giveaway when you pronounced the surname. You said it so flawlessly, I knew it couldn’t have been coincidence. With those two things combined, it wasn’t hard to figure out after that.” He shrugged, that mischievous smile returning to his face.

“Well then…” I plop next to him on the couch. “Now that we have that out of the way, can I please get back to my writing? Last night I was in the middle of a scene before you so rudely tempted me with food.” I stuck my tongue out at him before getting my stuff situated on my lap.

He chuckled at me from his seat. “Of course, love.” 

We were enveloped in silence once more as my story came to life in my head as I wrote. That’s where I get lost most of the time. Picturing everything in my head like it’s a movie is what drives me the most. It’s when I get stuck on how someone would move or if a certain action is even possible that I struggle. And since I’m usually alone while writing, I have no one to test it on.

I glance at the man who has resumed his new favorite position on my lap and immediately I want to ask him. But after everything that was just aired, I don’t know if that would be the best idea right now…

“You look like you’re struggling with something.” He pointed out a little while later when he noticed the sound of my pen on paper stopped.

I answered him with sarcasm, “Well aren’t you observant?” He chuckled again as he sat up. 

“What are you stuck on?” He asked settling into his new position, tossing his arm around the back of the couch and crossing his ankle over his knee.

I let out a frustrated sigh. “I’m having trouble with placement. I want it to feel realistic but I just can’t seem to get it right in my head.”

“Darling, you know I’m an actor. Use me,” He offered. “I’ll help in any way that I can.”

I bit my lip as I thought about the scene I’m thinking of in my head. The characters get extremely close, closer than him and I have gotten. I know he’s used to people being in his personal space, but still. This feels different…

Despite my reservations I know I would kick myself for not taking his help. So within twenty minutes, we had the potential set up in the living room. We found a table and a roller chair we could use for an “office setting.” I sat in the chair, in the position of the narrator of my story. Tom stood about ten feet away where we placed another table to indicate where the doorway to the office would be. I directed him to lean against the table as best as he could. I also reluctantly let him read and study the scene I had so far. 

When he assured me he was ready and didn’t need it for reference anymore, I took it back. On cue, he started, “I see some things never change.”

I turned around in my chair. “What are you doing here?”

He shrugged, “I’m in town.”

“No, I mean, what are you doing here of all places? Why are you here, standing at the door of my office at midnight?” It was so strange to have the scene I had in my head, come to life in front of my eyes. This must be how a writer for a TV series or a movie feels when their vision comes to life as well…

He ran his fingers through his hair and fixed his glasses on cue. “Erm,” he hesitated, shifting uncomfortably, “I came to see you.”

“Why?” I blurted. “Why today of all days?”

“Because my divorce was finalized yesterday and the first person I wanted to see as a single man was you.” My heart leaps at his words as if he really meant them and was the character I had in mind.

“Divorce?” I whispered, faking disbelief.

He nods as he continues reading from the copy I made. “Shortly after I left, I told her the truth.” I drop my jaw as the character would. “She knew I was acting a bit off, but she never expected that. I told her that we never did anything… and she forgave me. I was stunned, too. That just shows how amazing she is. She asked me if I thought I could forget about you in order for us to work on our marriage. I told her I would do anything to save our relationship. We went to counseling, we spent time just the two of us without distractions to focus on who we were before we had gotten married and it all seemed to be working…” He trailed off. “But no matter how hard I tried, you were always in the back of my mind.” He met my eyes again. “I couldn’t forget about you. I couldn’t stop wondering what you must be doing, if you had met someone else, if you were thinking about me… I must have started a thousand phone calls just wanting to hear your voice again.” He paused to just stare. “I longed to see your beautiful smile or hear you laugh. I just wanted to see you again to see if I truly still felt the same as I did before or if I was only fooling myself. And so, I came back around a year ago.”

“What?”

“I came back to have lunch with my former and your current boss. When we were passing through, I saw you. You were strutting around the office, touching base with everyone. Laughing even.” He stares at me in awe as if he was truly reliving that moment. “You were even more beautiful than I remembered.” He steps into my “office,” “That was all I needed to know nothing had changed for me. You still took my breath away.” He shakes his head in amazement at the ground. “On my way out, I pulled someone aside. That someone turned out to be your assistant. Naturally, I introduced myself. He didn’t seem to know who I was, so he was more than happy to divulge any and all information about you. He raved about how ‘amazing’ it was to work for you and how you were extremely well-liked but seemed like you were ‘hung up’ on ‘your previous boss,’ thinking you were still in love with him. He didn’t go into detail but…” He chuckles again, “I didn’t need to hear anymore. With even the tiniest glimmer of hope that you still felt the same way I did even after all this time… I returned home and told her I couldn’t do it anymore. My heart was no longer in it and she knew that. Filing for divorce was the easiest decision I’ve made in a long time.” 

“Okay, now come over here.” I whisper, still slightly affected by this situation. I pointed to the spot I imagined and Tom did this, coming to a stop where I said. I turned my chair to face him. “Kneel.” I broke character for two seconds to throw that in there. He did too, cracking up at my reference. “Okay, okay,” I said trying to get us back on track. “But seriously, drop to your knees.” I directed.

He did as I instructed instantly getting back into character. His eyes relayed the exact emotions I wanted the character to have: sadness, regret, longing, relief… I don’t know how he did it so flawlessly, but that just shows how brilliant of an actor he is.

His eyebrows were furrowed creating the creases in his forehead; the type of creases he gets whenever anything caused him any distress. I’d seen them during multiple interviews and pap photos. I wanted to massage them away every time I saw them, as did the character. 

“Okay, now hold still. This is a trouble spot,” I whispered to him as I tried to run over everything in my head. I reached out to do exactly as I pictured. He watched as I did so, the wrinkles disappearing the instant my fingers touched them. His eyes fluttered shut at the contact. He released a shaky breath just like I imagined his character would. My hands were trembling as I imagined the character’s would, not knowing just how much until they came in contact with his skin. I brought my fingers down over his prominent cheekbones. His beard was surprisingly soft to the touch, taking a moment to appreciate it by running the back of my hand down his jaw. His large hand covered mine when it came to his neck, bringing it up to his lips, placing a kiss on my palm. I made a mental note of his action as I didn’t want to break this tender moment.

“The hardest being when I let you walk away from me.” He whispered, locking his eyes on mine, pain and truth written all over them. It nearly knocked me out of my seat. He encompassed everything I expected.

My shoulders slumped in defeat, losing myself in the scene. I slide off the chair as I imagined, falling knee to knee in front of him. He scooped up my hands in his, causing goosebumps to form on my entire body from his touch. He held them, running his thumbs over the backs like I wanted him to. He took a deep breath taking my attention away from our contact. “I love you, darling.” He confessed, making my heart flutter. “I believe I always have. I just didn’t know how much until I’d lost you.”

Maybe this was a bad idea… I thought I could handle doing this with him. I thought I could try and compartmentalize the acting from reality, but with him, it’s nearly impossible. He makes me believe what he’s saying, even though I know in the back of my mind that it’s not true. They’re just words I wanted him to read aloud. Nothing is real about them.

The line I wrote last before getting stuck was “If my heart could fly, it would soar…” and oh how freaking true it is…

“Okay, this is where I got stuck. I don’t know how to get where I want them to go next.” I voiced, needing his input.

“What do you want to happen?” He softly asked as if he were still in character.

“She has been imagining how this moment would play out for six years. To have the man she has been madly in love with for over half a decade finally telling her what she’s only dreamed about him saying for that long… She’s taking it all in.” I release his hands and stand on my knees to be level with the desk. I grab my pen and start writing what I see play out in my head. “She searches his eyes for fallacies, but she obviously doesn’t find any.” I vocalize to him as I write so he can stay in the loop. “She worries that she may have fallen asleep at her desk, but then she looks at their hands. The warmth his hands are giving her is the only tether to the real world she has.” 

“And because she doesn’t say anything, he’s anxious.” Tom joined in. “He sees how she’s stuck in her head, so he has to bring her back to him somehow.”

I take a moment to take his suggestion into consideration. I agree that she shouldn’t say anything at first. She’s lost in the fact that he’s in front of her, confessing his feelings for her when she’s only made up conversations like this in her head.

“If she’s looking at their hands, he could use his hand to bring her eyes back to his. He’s missed her as much as she has him so he’ll want to stare into them as much as he possibly can.” He adds, making perfect sense.

“Good.” I write it out as it plays out in my head over and over again. “As for the dialogue, there doesn’t need to be much. There really isn’t much else to say, except for her finally telling him how she feels.”

“Should we just see where it takes us?” He suggested. I nodded in agreement. I returned to our previous position after finishing. His hands enveloped mine again, the warmth of them heating up my now cold fingers. I watched as if I could see them warming before my eyes. He let go of one of mine and brought it to my face. He used his thumb and forefinger to take my chin and bring my gaze back to his, just like we described. “Darling?” He whispered.

Both of us were brought up to our knees with the feeling of our bodies longing to be closer to the other, driving us to stay close.

“Is this real?” I asked, feeling like I just came out of a daydream. My hands found their way into his long ginger locks. They were just as soft as I imagined them to be. I would have run my fingers through them every day if he would’ve let me…

“God, I hope so.” He breathes out, leaning his forehead against mine. He wrapped his arms around my waist, our hips connecting. Tingles spread throughout my body at the close contact. My heart was beating so loudly, I’m sure he can hear it. 

I froze, knowing what I wanted to happen next with the characters, but I don’t know if I could handle what would happen if we were to do what I was thinking… Oh God do I want to kiss him. I’ve thought about kissing him since the first night. But I didn’t think he would’ve been okay with me doing so. After his confession earlier though, he might be now… However, I can’t let that happen. Because if I were to let myself have what I’ve been dreaming of, I don’t think I’ll want to stop.

So to save us both some awkwardness for the last two days we have here, I pulled away from him. He looked confused as I stood up completely. My knees yelled at me for abusing them more than they’re used to but I ignored the pain. “Okay, I think I can figure it out from here.” I collected my stuff. “Thank you for this. It helped more than you could ever imagine.”

He abruptly stood up as well, clearing his throat. “You’re more than welcome, love. Let me know if you need any more help.”

We both go to our respective rooms for the remainder of the night. As soon as I got back to mine, I kicked myself. I actually walked away from kissing Tom freaking Hiddleston; someone I’ve been dying to know what it would be like for years. I could have had his lips against mine and I made the conscious decision to leave before it could happen. My pre-vacation self would have killed me if she saw who I’ve become.

I wrote down what played out, finding it was exactly right for the situation, but I couldn’t finish it. When I got to the kiss, I couldn’t bring myself to write it. I tried to watch a few of his kiss scenes but that didn’t help at all. None of them can describe what it’s like to kiss him. I want it to be authentic. Had I known that at the time, I might have let it happen for the story… or maybe not. I guess I won’t know.

day six...

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#tom hiddleston #meet me at the chalet #mmatc #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x female!reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston series

[j-j-ehlby-writes]

Meet Me at the Chalet || day four.

Eventual pairing: Tom Hiddleston x OFC (Jenessee Borosi)

Word count: ~2.2k

Summary (I suck at these): Jenessee goes on a solo vacation after the release of her first novel. She got a little more than she bargained for when she gets snowed in with her biggest celebrity crush.

Warnings: So much freaking fluff, swearing but blink and you’ll miss it, depressing thoughts (THIS chapter), Tom being Tom

night one. || day one. || day two. || day three. || day four. || day five. ||

When I wake up a couple hours later, I expect to be alone. I thought Tom would have stayed until I fell asleep only to sneak out when he knew I wouldn’t wake up. But that was not the case. He was still in the exact same spot as when I fell asleep: leaned up against the headboard like he had been there all night. His eyes were closed but I could just faintly see dark circles underneath that were not there yesterday. Did he stay up all night? 

I notice that he also had his hand intertwined with mine, resting on his stomach. I can’t imagine I’ve been in the position I’m in for long thanks to me tossing and turning in my sleep so he must have just passed out. 

My heart swelled at the thought of him staying awake for hours, making sure I was okay, but it also hurt knowing he lost sleep because of me. That was the last thing I wanted for him. But then again, he didn’t have to stay awake. He didn’t have to stay in here, period. And he did, because he’s Tom and he’s an extraordinary person.

I sunk back against my pillow gazing up at the perfect human specimen that’s snoozing right next to me. How does one deserve someone as wonderful as him in one’s life if you’ve done nothing to warrant it? Because in my eyes, I have done nothing in my life to be worthy of him and his company. It was simply a happy accident that I wound up here on the day I did and then him getting snowed in here, forcing him to stay longer. Mother Nature threw a wrench in my plans of solitude and I can’t even be mad.

After ogling for longer than I should have, I eased my hand out of his and left the comfort of my bed. I stepped in the bathroom, flinching at the light as soon as I turned it on. I quickly remember that my eyes are usually sensitive to light after tear fests. I stared at my reflection. My eyes were still a tad puffy but no longer bloodshot. My face had also lost the puffiness from last night. My hair was a mess but that’s to be expected. I threw it back in a braid once I brushed it out of one. After brushing my teeth, I finally felt like a normal human being again. All thoughts of last night erased from memory. Another day to keep my feelings in only for it to build and build, creating so much tension that another breakdown is inevitable…

When I emerged from the bathroom, from this new angle, I realized just how incredibly uncomfortable he looks. His back and neck were lying in horrible angles, he’s bound to be sore if he sleeps like that for any longer. There’s no way I can just leave him like this. I tiptoed up to him and placed a soft kiss on his forehead scar. He softly jolted awake, taking in a huge deep breath. “Hey.” I whispered.

He looked at me through fuzzy eyes. “Are you alright?” He asked slightly panicking, sleep still heavy in his voice. I protested his move to get up.

“I’m okay. I just want you to get comfortable under the covers and go back to sleep. I’ll come to get you in a few hours.” I yanked the comforter from under him to get him to move. He obliged, lazily moving so I could pull the sheets over his lean body. He settled against the pillow, closing his eyes once again. Almost instantly, his breathing evened out again signaling he slipped into unconsciousness again. 

Taking my place on the couch in the living room, I stare out the floor to vaulted ceiling windows as the snow dust continues to fall as I absentmindedly eating my waffles I took out of the toaster. The sun illuminates the snow on the ground and makes the dust in the air sparkle.

After a few hours, I wrapped myself in one of the many blankets provided and returned to the kitchen. I started the coffee machine for Tom and filled it with water. I popped in a few slices of bread in the toaster after it finished more waffles and heat up the syrup he’ll more than likely want with the waffles. I take the butter out and any other condiment he might want with his breakfast. I pour a glass of orange juice as well and milk so he has a variety. I cut some fruit and fill a small bowl. All it would need is a single flower in a vase in the middle of the table and we’d be set. I had to improvise though, just using one of their centerpieces instead. As soon as I could smell the coffee brewing, I knew he would be down soon. So I took that as my cue to take out some bacon to fry to really give this breakfast the extra “oomph.”

As I tended to it, I heard soft footsteps walk into the kitchen and then felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around my waist and a kiss be placed on the back of my head. “Love, you didn’t have to make breakfast.” He murmured in my ear, sleep still evident in his voice.

I smile at how cute he is. “How else am I going to thank you for last night?”

“Darling, you don’t have to thank me for that.” He tightened his grip, pulling me even closer.

“But I do,” I countered. “You didn’t have to comfort me, let alone stay all night. I’m a stranger with deeply embedded issues that you definitely don’t have to deal with. I’ve suffered alone my whole life, what’s one more night?” I turn off the stove and bring the bacon to the table. “Sit.” I command, not wanting to talk about it anymore. “I’m sorry it’s not a gourmet breakfast. I am definitely not a chef so this is as good as it’s going to get.” He giggled as he took his seat. I poured his black coffee to finish everything off.

“This looks delightful, darling. Thank you very much.” He eyed me just standing here. “Care to join me?” He took my hand, pulling me to literally stand against him, keeping his arm around my waist as he ate with one hand.

Last night seems to have broken a barrier between us. He has been very touchy this morning, always having to touch me in some way. Yesterday, it was significantly less with only a small gesture here and there, but no more. From waking up with him holding my hand to this, this has been more than either of us has dared to try. It feels oddly natural like we’ve been doing this for years. He makes me feel like I can be myself without the fear of being judged, especially now that he’s seen me at my literal lowest.

For the rest of the day we were hardly ever more than five feet away from the other. We spent the day like we did our first: reading and writing on the couch. The only difference this time is he was right next to me. He even laid his head on my lap at one point. We didn’t talk much. Only asking when the other was hungry for lunch and dinner. It was a soothing day after a tumultuous night before.

What made it even better though? S’mores and hot chocolate.

Tom had the brilliant idea after we had dinner. He remembered there being an outdoor bonfire pit before all of the snow fell. He also spied some wood behind the welcome desk. I happily watched from inside as he set it up. Soon enough we had a fire. We toasted as many marshmallows as we could, pre-making the treats before heading back inside to dive in. We took a seat in front of the fireplace to warm back up with our large mugs of chocolate and marshmallow goodness.

“You’re pretty adept at fire-making.” I voice as I take a bite of my first s’more. The gooey marshmallow mixed with the now melting chocolate and the crumbly graham cracker perfectly creating a pleasant moan coming from my mouth, unable to stop myself.

“I’m a jack of all trades, really. I can learn to do anything. Just like I can pretty much do an impression of anybody with any accent. I always say I’m like a parrot.” He showed me a few of his really good ones, causing me to roll on the floor with laughter at just how good he is at them. “Ah, there it is.” He pointed after my laughing fit.

“There what is?” I asked wiping the tears from my eyes.

“Your smile. I’ve been missing it all day.” He scooted next to me, wrapping us both in a blanket by wrapping his arm around my shoulders. I leaned my head on his shoulder, watching the fire. The warmth washed over us as we sat there.

“You just bring it out of me, I guess.”

“Do you want to talk about last night?” He asked after we sat in silence. I knew this question would be coming eventually. He would respect me if I didn’t want to talk about it but was curious to know if I would open up to him.

I released a big sigh, “Not really.”

“Because I’ve been told that I am an excellent listener and an even better secret keeper.” He boasted. I chuckled at his modesty.

I sat up straight, keeping my gaze on the fire. I could feel his eyes burning a hole in the side of my face worse than the fire. “I appreciate the concern but I’m more of a suffer in silence type and then bury my feelings until the next time. No need for discussion.” I stood up looking for any excuse to walk away from this conversation.

“Why didn’t he try more?” I halted in my tracks. “Why didn’t he want to spend time with me?” My chest tightened at the repeat of the answerless questions I had asked hours ago. “If he didn’t want kids, why did he?”

“You were listening?” I asked in disbelief. Horror spread throughout my body at that thought. He heard my wails of insecurity as well as endured my tears. Somehow that makes it all worse. I turned back to see he had stood as well.

“I caught a few things when I was on my way to your room.” He quickly explained, putting some of my nerves at ease, but continued, “but there’s nothing to be ashamed of, love. Everyone has, for lack of a better term, ‘daddy issues.’ I know I do.”

This surprises me. Not much is known about his relationship with his dad. All we do know is they haven’t been close since his parents’ divorce. He’s never outwardly spoken about it before now. “You do?”

“Growing up I only ever lived with my mother and my two sisters. My father and I have never been close. I barely saw him after the divorce and even when I did, it was only briefly. As a child, I tried not to take it personally, but as I’ve gotten older, I’ve only realized that it wasn’t me at all. It was him.”

“I know it’s not my fault for why my dad is the way he is, but you’d think that having a child would change your perspective. You’d want to be the best parent you can be for your child. You’d want to be there for every scraped knee to every broken heart, for every sports game or music program- and not just because your child wants you there, but because you truly want to support whatever your child wants to do… It shouldn’t matter where the event takes place, the weather, or how traffic is as so many of his excuses were to not attend some of my important events.” He missed every parent-teacher conference after elementary school, didn’t come to numerous choir concerts throughout high school… all because the weather was predicted to be bad, or the traffic to get down to my school was too thick… “And he always made it feel like an inconvenience for him… Your child shouldn’t be an inconvenience. To him, I was.” I could feel the tears threatening to make their appearance again. I blinked them away, taking some deep breaths. “That’s all I have to say on the matter.”

Tom appeared in front of me, cradling my face in his hands. The sadness and hurt in his eyes was heartwarming and heartbreaking at the same time. “My darling, you are not an inconvenience. You deserve to always be treated as a top priority, no matter what.” He kissed my forehead. “I’m sorry if I’ve upset you by asking.”

I scoffed. “Don’t be sorry. You were bound to be curious about it. I’m sorry for being so emotional and complicated. I’m not usually.”

“You never have to apologize for how you feel, especially with me. Alright?”

I nodded reluctantly. If I were to have him in my life, there would be nothing to be upset about. That I know for sure. And even if these feelings did pop up again, I know he would be right there to comfort me, exactly like he was last night.

day five...

Permanent taglist: @elusive-beauty @drakesfiance @im-a-slut-for-an-accent @fantasy-is-my-reality @hiddlephile @naniky

#tom hiddleston #meet me at the chalet #mmatc #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston x female!reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston series