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milknhonies · 3 months

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A Lesson In Service

Masterlist || Chapter 2

Chapter Summary: In 1880 you are hired as the governess of Lord Dalgliesh's children. When you meet your employer after months of already being in his employment you feel a strange change in your position. It's terrible when we discover the people we are expected to trust are as wicked and evil as the devil

Pairing: Lord!Henry Dalgliesh x Governess!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Indimidation, Drugging, Implied infidelity, implied sex trafficking/solicitating, Implied sexual abuse, manipulation, blackmail, Victorian era period typical sexism.

Word Count: 8.5k

Author Notes: My dream cast is Henry Cavill as Lord Henry Dalgliesh. Colin Firth as Colin Fowler. Cillian Murphy as Cillian Walsh. Ben Barnes as Benjamin Byrnes. Natalie Viscuso as Natalia Naclerio Tom Hiddleston as Tom Ransome. Smut is next chapter.

Inspiring Song: “How many miles to Babylon.” child's lullaby

London, England 1888, Saturday 14th January. 18:45pm.

A loud crack of thunder rattled the windows to the study where a man sat back cradling a glass of scotch.

Henry Dalgliesh was most incredibly not a kind or purely generous gentleman. Long ago he’d learnt to accept the rude whispers about his behaviour, he believed being bothered by comments made by those lower than he in title was pointless prattle to even hear. Thank God for his large fortune, physical attractiveness and major title that allowed him to spend, whore, drink, gamble, and travel to wherever he dared to venture.

A shine of lightening defined the shadows of his chiselled jaw, his presence was forever intimidating. A wicked smirk laced across his devious face; he raised his scotch and toasted the frozen grin of his past wife’s portrait over the fireplace. Her painted golden locks shining as bright as they did when cascaded over their marriage bed, and her casket.

The late lady Natalia Dalgliesh or rather Naclerio, the unfaithful wench, had often accused him of being a cold and a selfish monster. He chuckled to himself at the memory of her tears along with her cruel tone. She was right. But what of she? At constant, a needy bitch in heat? A nymphomaniac? For her, was he not enough? Henry truly had tried with Natalia, at least for a time he forced himself to be what she had envisioned.

He huffed and set his drink aside on his desk.

Sweet Natalia, goodness was she a darling piece. She obviously used her own innocent beauty to gain the attention of anything that could mount her. Henry did wonder, where did he go wrong? Was his size not to her desire? Was her appetite craving another type of bodily position he did not know? How was he not satisfactory? She should’ve known better than to marry him knowing full well he was not a man of pure affections.

In the end however he would forever remember her vile speech about how she had never loved him not that he cared- and that he was not even the legitimate father of their two darling children. Just like now he experienced a swirl of nausea in the pit of his stomach and a burning headache to his temple.

He lifted the scotch and pelted it at the painting, glass and alcohol splattered across her face down her neck and into her bosom he ever so missed. Her expression mocked him, that smile, the same lips that tricked him into losing fifteen years of valuable time.

He hated her.

Henry bit his lip and snarled, ��Good riddance, you selfish cunt...you should count yourself lucky...Lucky it wasn’t my own hand that ended you.” Tears filled his eyes. His bottom lip trembled.

And sometimes, he missed her.

A whole year had went by. The four seasons changing back into the one that began his torment. Little Marianne and Michael, his beloved children had been sorely neglected for so long he knew it was time to return home. After the exposure of their false parentage, he felt an agony in even them knowing that their faces were of no spawn of his, Henry admitted he needed to man up and care for what his stupid wife left behind.

Yes, it was now time for the Earl of Jersey to return home to his estate of Radier Manor.

He buried his face into his hands and sighed, before plucking up the unopened envelope by his desk.

Radier Manor Jersey, England 1888, Monday 9 April. 01:30 pm.

On a canvas was a very artistic image of a charcoal vase of flowers. Leaves and petals shaded in nothing but strategic black strokes. You were delicately scraping the black drawing charcoal across the white papers when the intruding house keeper Mrs Sharpe simmered inside the children’s nursery.

The wrinkled prude sneered distinctively towards the you and you lessons to the two children, sitting on either side of you. Her dark greying hair appeared a little to tightly pinned today. Her thin lips slightly redder than normal...your eyes tried not to strain at the possibility of rogue on her cheeks. You forced a kind grin at her arrival.

“Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Sharpe scowled, “I’m to inform you that you are required downstairs to the masters’ study immediately. He has just officially arrived and desires the attention of all new staff in his study, now,” her lips tightened whilst looking you up and down, “Oh! And do...I pray- make yourself a little presentable.”

The callously spoken crone tapped her cheek in reference to the black marks covering your face and rolled her eyes in annoyance as she spun sharply around to leave.

Your forced grin fell once the elder woman noisily stalked out of the room with her keys rattling away on the hip of her chain.

Rubbing your hands clean on your art apron you then turned and smiled to the two younglings in your care.

A pair of twins aged eight years old with dark reddish hair and similar features. The boy beheld blue eyes while his sister gained a pair of hazel.

“Well, my little darlings, I suppose our lesson in art must be placed on wait until tomorrow? I shall see you at supper and tomorrow we shall continue our art lesson but with watercolours instead.” You smiled at an excited Michael who unpinned the scribbly mess and Mary, who perched over her own work of rose sketching. Black smudges covered little Mickey’s hand who had given up his attempt of drawing daffodils and went by a creative approach of squiggly lines and stick figures of those in the household.

Nanny Nettle who sat in the corner of the room, polishing the children’s shoes chuckled, “Sharpe doesn’t make no move to hide her ill feelings towards you.”

You sighed, shrugged and looked to the elderly scots woman with a look of despair written across your face, “Mrs Nettle, I don’t understand,” You started to pack up the art equipment into a small supply chest and carried the box of art equipment to the children’s bookshelf, putting them away. Michael folded his picture to his chest while his sister placed her art on her miniature duchess.

While you folded the canvas stands the woman with her twinkling milky eyes observed you with an amused curl in her lip.

“I have been governess here for most of the winter and this spring, but Mrs Sharpe still treats me like a unwanted pest- I have done naught but share my kindness, my patience and my help around the estate: I mean really? What have I done to upset her so?” You approached the nanny and sat at her feet wiping your face with the corner of your apron of any black marks.

The children went and washed their small hands in the basin and hung their aprons on a wall hook.

“What have you done to offend her, lass?” Nanny Nettle grinned and shook her head, pausing her polishing she reassuringly patted the young woman’s cheek.

“I gather it be that she didn’t have a say in your employment to the household dear. That cow likes having everything under her control,” She cackled suddenly, “O’ course, it also don’t help that her nephew Thomas, that footmen who likes to smoke in the barn, can’t seem to keep his eyes off your chest when you waddle pass, acting like a drooling dog he does.”

You gawked and quickly fled to Mary’s side, holding her ears, if you had another hand you would’ve covered Mickey’s too.

You softly hissed with a flushed face, “Please Mrs Nettle, I must request you keep a decorum of respectful language in front of the children. And furthermore,” you flushed, “I don’t appreciate your jesting since I’ve never seen Mr Ransome acting so beastly as that. He is a gentleman.”

The older woman chuckled at your sweet innocent alarm and shrugged, “Alright, I’m merely explain’ why that housekeeper

‘Hoity Toity’ has it out for you, dear.”

You sighed and released the confused Mary who was very curious about why her Nanny compared her father’s footman to a puppy. In the end of her mind boggling, the girl went to sit on her bed and play with her doll she had come to name Antoinette.

The Nanny pointed her wrinkled finger at the door and then jabbed it back at the you, “Best be off downstairs Governess, the master don’t like to be kept waiting. He’s not known for his patience, lord knows I couldn’t teach it to him.”

Breath hitching, you nodded vigorously and hung the apron on the hook before you fled outside the nursery, down the hall to the stair case. You hurriedly descended the stairs while you prayed desperately that the Earl of Jersey did not take the same disliking to you that housekeeper Sharpe had. Fixing your hair into what you deemed suitable, you skated passed the kitchens.

It was honestly a miracle you had this position. You were a newly officialised governess just starting out in your first family, becoming employed on your first letter of recommendation written as a favour by a friend of your late father, Lord Colin Fowler. You desperately vowed to help the children grow fruitfully and improve intelligence majorly. Your wages were above the average at fifty pounds a year, including the free house boarding and food.

You knew there would be a time and day where you would need to ask or at least thank your employer for his generosity. You had worried that when you would meet him, he would see you for what you really were...a country mouse with only the capacity to teach what little you knew in the arts and literature.

Biting your lip, you decided all you wanted in this world was acceptance. And you truly needed the lord of the estate to accept you; Your father’s debt rested heavily on your shoulders at the moment. Your mother died a few days after the birth of your little sister Odette, and your father was a tremendously poor loser in gambling poker. He’d left you and Odette with a cough that killed him along with no money or respectable station in society.

At only a young age of eighteen, you’d been forced to leave the quiet life of the pastures in the south for the employment of the east. Boarding the ship out to this island was the most scary thing you had to partake. And in fact you had casted your bowls over the sides of the rocking boat more than twice.

Your twelve year old sister Odette was thankfully now in the custody of the kind and charitable Lord Fowler who only required a monthly fee to care for her which you were utterly grateful for. It was unfortunate though that even after the auctioning of your family cottage and small farm, plus your exuberant wages was still not enough to entirely pay the debts Mr Y/L/N left. If you were not so frugal with the expenses of books and dresses you owned, you wouldn’t be getting by and that terrified you.

‘Do not fall front you silly girl’, you mentally scolded, ‘if you muck up it’ll be Odette to pay for it.’

Reaching the closed door of the Earl’s study, you stood frozen and hesitated from twisting the door handle. Mentally and physically prepping yourself, you straightened your back and held your head high- but not too high to present too confident in a man’s presence, let alone an Earl.

Quickly you checked your hair again and the hairpins that secured it down in the ‘appropriate style’. Your hands you then noticed trembled, ‘goodness why am I so nervous!?’ your shaky fingers pressed down on your dark navy skirt.

You bit your lip and self-assuredly nodded, finally lifting your hand up to the wood and serving three slight taps. The door opened wide, behind it was Mr Cillian Walsh, the house’s head butler and supposedly personal keeper to the Lord Dalgliesh.

The butler gave you a grand smile, he was one of the most friendliest of the staff here in Radier

Manor. He was the one to first welcome you when you had gotten off the boat many moons ago. And Cillian was extremely helpful and kind, especially when it came to the children. He was the one to inform the little dears of their father’s planned return.

“Miss Y/N, do come in,” he whispered and fondly winked, “His lordship is eager to meet you.”

He stepped aside and bowed his head a little to you. Stepping into the study for the first time, you noticed another young man waiting inside. He clearly was another new employee of the household.

And in front of him was an extremely handsome male.

You had seen his painting in the drawing room but it was nothing compared to his true form. The Earl was sitting behind his large desk and when you walked into the room you witnessed him rise at your entrance. Y/N’s eyes widened. The painting depicted him with an image of late forties but now you gathered his age to be somewhere in his middle thirties or early forties. The painter had drastically aged him. His chiselled jawline and thin lips romanticised his face along with his soft brown curls falling like gentle swirls down his cheek.

What the painting hadn’t entailed too was his height. By god he would have put Goliath to shame giant. You had never met such a broad and tall man in your life. Your eyes widened as he slowly bowed his head to you respectfully.

Snugly fitted to his muscular frame was a black waistcoat that matched his deep blue eyes. It wasn’t hard to say you felt a tickle of attraction to this man. On his left hand a gold band entrapped his finger.

‘That’s right, he was a married man’.

You swallowed quietly and moved to stand beside the younger stranger with a leaner appearance, and dashing mid length Jett black hair.

The Earls gaze was dominating. His aura intensely intimidating. And it was all pinned directly onto you...poor thing. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as the Earl’s eyes paused in front of you.

You kept your eyes low under his cool regard and fought to stand still and not fidget.

“Good day, it is my desire to formally welcome you both to Radier Manor despite the unfortunate obvious that one of you has been in my care for a few months already,” your employer said glancing your way while he stepped forward from behind his desk, “As I am sure you must already know, I am Henry Dalgliesh, the Earl of Jersey.”

Cillian gestured his white gloves hand to you while clearing his throat, “My lord, this is Miss Y/N

Y/L/N, the new governess.”

You curtsied too low and before it was too late you almost tripped yourself onto his shoes when his heavy hand caught your shoulder. A rush of blood dusted your face from nervous embarrassment. You wobbled back onto your feet and softly apologised for your clumsiness, eyes staring at his shoes.

Unseen by you, Henry smirked. Holding his palm out to you, you gently laid her own clammy own into his hand. He bent his head, his eyes set on your heated face while his oh so very soft lips pressed against the hot skin of your fingers, “Miss Y/L/N, It is a pleasure to make your official acquaintance after all this time.”

His facial expression was unreadable, only that he appeared to be kind and polite…

‘Oh goodness, he smells divine, like baked biscuits!’

The butler cleared his throat again, “and here Sir, is Mr Benjamin Byrnes, the secretary from Wimbledon.”

Cillian continued to inform the master about his benefits for this particular Secretary but you were too distracted by the Earls penetrating eyes that had refused to stop staring you down. Your heart pounded against your chest, you felt like you body was being dragged towards him despite being completely still and unmoving. Your eyes locked for a painfully wonderful eternity.

You exhaled gratefully when the Cillian led you and the secretary out of the study after Henry shook Benjamin’s hand and allowed the you both to remain employment. You felt weak and tired by your first encounter. After all you never expected to experience such an debilitating presence.

Radier Manor Jersey, England 1888, Monday 9 April. 18:30 pm.

That night Lord Henry didn’t make his appearance at supper, he was too busy under some account, which sourly upset the children who missed their father greatly.

And when said that they were upset, they were very, very disappointed. The twins had become woeful and unpleasantly behaved, deciding to ignore their food and gossip about what their father had done while he was away.

Marianne was mature and stated confidently that he was a business man perform business duties, when asked what duties they were she was unable to answer.

Michael on the other hand was a wild imagination. He was certain that his father had been away fighting criminals and bringing justice to the realm. He stabbed his mutton and exclaimed it was how he believed his father ran a sword through wicked men.

As Cillian passed with a tray to take to the masters study he paused and pinched Michaels cheek, before commanding the boy eat his dinner lest it turned totally cold.

After dinner concluded Nanny Nettle took them back to the nursery to ready for bed...

But as you were making your way down to the servant quarters where your room laid, you were nearly knocked over by a hurling body that flung itself back when it collided with your strong body.

You rubbed your belly with a light groan and looked dow at the floor and baring witness to one of your students.

Michael’s shirt front had a large wet spot. His red face was scrunched up, puffy crying eyes spilled tears and down his nose and chin was a trail of snot and drool. His little fists clenched and unclenched while he continued to wipe his face on his soaked sleeves. He was crying loudly.

Shockingly he stood up and collided into you but this time clung to you and held up his hands in silent pleas. Between tears he was clearly crying out sentences that were incoherent. You carefully pieced together what was wrong when you managed to hear, “Papa”.

Sighing you bent onto your knees and cupped under his armpits and lifted him up onto your hip and held him close, rocking him softly. He reminded you in that moment of your sister Odette who cried when your father died. You patted his back, he was a baby missing his parents. You rocked him as he clung to your shoulders.

The little boy sobbed into your neck and held onto you like you were a life anchor.

“O’Mickey dear, hush now, hush,” You gently cooed as you walked him to the nursery which conveniently was just down the hallway.

Your heels clicked to the thudding of the nursemaids’ feet just as she called around the corner “Michael! Where are you, Lad!? There you are!” She puffed, following her was Marianne who also looked to have been crying with the red hue of her eyes.

You turned to Mrs Nettle and smiled sadly, “I think someone won’t be letting go anytime soon,” just as you said this, Michael tightened his grasp on her blouse and shoved his head deeper into your neck, “Shall I put the children to bed?”

The Nanny looked slightly shocked at the offer, her grey brows raised and jaw dropped before sputtering “O’ course lass, I’ll get their nightclothes.”

As she tried to walk pass you into their bedroom, you reached out and touched her hunching shoulder. You knew the children needed a female figure who was frankly a lot younger than Mrs Nettle, sixty five years younger perhaps.

“Please Mrs Nettle, I can manage. Come Marianne, time for bed,” You held out a hand to the girl that tilted her head and bit her lip, reaching out to grab at your hand.

After bidding the Nanny a good night the three of you went inside.

Closing the door behind them, you softly sighed and brushed through Michael’s auburn curls with your fingers trying to sooth him a little more as his crying dialled down to sniffles. Slowly you sat on his bed, Marianne sat on hers across you both.

“Mary darling,” you gentle asked, rubbing her brothers back, “Could you please fetch yours and your brother’s night clothes?”

“Yes Miss Y/L/N,” She sniffled and smiled sweetly before hurrying off to the draws and closet.

Eventually you detached little Michael from your body and laid him down on the mattress. You quickly undressed the boy and soothingly brushed his wet cheeks with your thumbs. When

Marianne came back with the clothes, you made it your sole duty to ready them for bedtime.

The two hadn’t seen their father in over a year is what you had heard through the staff and on the day of lord Henry’ return he is ‘too busy’ for them?

You beckoned Marianne closer, you slipped off Marianne’s skirts and slipped over her head her long white nightgown. Marianne mumbled as she tugged her night dress on, “Pap- I mean Father, he did not want to wish us a good night and,” she choked, her little lips started to wobble, “Mrs

Sharpe smacked Michael across the cheek when he would not obey to leave.”

You gasped and brought her into your arms. While holding her close, you heard her ask on the brink of a sob, “Does he not really love us?”

‘What kind of man would act such a way ’, you grumbled to yourself, ‘and here I thought he was a very good looking man inside as he was outside. He’s unkindly neglectful of the family who missed and love him dearly.’

Then you sighed, ‘maybe he’s an extremely important man concerning business matters. He does after all own land on which now is booming with tourists.’

“I am sure your father loves you dearly Marianne,” you cooed and rubbed her back as she hiccuped.

Buttoning up his night shirt and wiping his wet face with his sleeve cuff, Michael had calmed down completely.

Turning her around to undo her braids, Marianne asked, “Miss Y/L/N? Can you…can you please sing to me and Mickey?”

Your fingers froze in Marianne’s hair. Such a request was endearing to you but was it too intimate? The girl turned around and forced herself into a hug between you . It was Marianne’s teary eyes that forced you to cave in.

“I can Mary,” you assured and pinched her shoulder playfully, “After you’re in bed.”

A bright grin returned to the little girls face. She and Michael eagerly clambered into their beds, diving beneath the covers.

You tucked the blankets of both their beds and made sure their sheets rested up to their chins. Then you laid Antoinette the dolly beside Mary on her pillow and picked up a toy solider off the floor, setting it on the bed side table next to little Michael. The two children gazed up to you awaiting their lullaby from their governess.

Carefully you knelt onto the floor and turned down the kerosene lamp on their shared bedside draw. Humming first and slowly slipping into song, you sang…

“How many miles to Babylon? Three score miles and ten.” They smiled and gasped lightly, happy and content.

“Can I get there by candle-light? Yes and back again.”

The little ones nuzzled into their pillows and smiled at you after sneaking a glance at each other almost as though they were keeping a secret with one another.

“If your heels are nimble and light, three more miles and ten, you may get there by candle-light there and back again.” You kissed each of their foreheads and tapped their noses softly.

“King and Queen of Cantelon, How many miles to Babylon?”

You stood and went to the curtains and drew them open, up in the night sky was a full moon shining down on them.

“Eight and eight, and another eight. Will I get there by candle-light?”

Coming back to the children, kneeling next to them you noticed Michaels mouth open wide and yawn silently. His eyes shut lose and his yawn lift his lips softly parted. Exhaustion took him first.

“If your horse be sprite and good and your spurs be bright.”

You continued to the last line of the diddy as you observed Marianne’s lashes fluttering down.

“How many soldiers there have been? More than yee dare come and see."

You laid your hands over both their belly's and rubbed small circles into them.

"How many miles to Babylon? Three more miles and ten. Can I get there by candle-light? Yes and back again."

Their chests lifted up and down with the steady slumber they fell into.

You whispered the final line, "Yes and back agaaiiinn."

It was such a sweet sight. You knew deep in your heart you loved them, for such little bodies they had such big hearts. From the moment you arrived they had been nothing but joyful creatures and to see them distraught so terribly by their father and housekeeper broke your heart. You smiled and rose from the floor to kiss both of their little foreheads again. Each softly moaned in their sleep and turned their heads into the pillows away from your sweet kisses.

Turning the kerosene down completely, You walked out of the nursery into the door way and carefully closed the door behind you. You prayed it wasn’t too loud to wake them up.

The sound of movement caught your attention away from the nursery, your eyes viewed a slight shadow moving through a door way at the end of the hall. For a moment you clenched the front of your blouse in fear of any ghosts.

‘Must be a servant cleaning one last room.’

You had no fear and no knowledge of any existing dangers. You decided to not worry, after all you were clearly safe and just needed to go to bed. You were tired from a day of work and meeting the formidable master of the manor.

Radier Manor Jersey, England 1888, Monday 9 April. 18:56 pm.

You retreated to the quiet sanctuary of your room. Located on the same floor as the laundry parlour but its door was opposite the wall. You were still grateful for your given room, since it was bigger than your own cottage one on the farm you sold off, not only that but the bed mattress was so comfortable that most morning you’d lay there and pray it was Sunday so you didn’t have to rise up and sleep in until the afternoon church service in town. In fact the only issue with your room was the lack of warmth with no fireplace.

Stripping down to nakedness you ripped over your head your cotton nightgown before unpinning your hair. Placing each pin onto the duchess and scratching your scalp you sighed and preceded to slink into your bed. You shut your eyes preparing for the world of being governess another day. Though after turning and tossing beneath the covers that provided the tiniest of warmth for another hour, you huffed and flung the sheets away. Sleep just wasn’t an option tonight.

It was like an itch as your mind trailed off in recalling all the activities of the day and vaguely came to remember the meeting with his lordship. O’ how he had kissed your hand in his study. The odd sensation of butterflies returned to your belly. Your thumb rubbed over the spot where his lips had touched.

‘Did he kiss every young ladies hand like that? Surely not? I should perhaps be offended by such impropriety...what would his wife have thought? He should still be in mourning, as should I...o’ he is a Earl after all...and he’s paying you plenty good, don’t be ungrateful over a light kiss on your hand.’

It was scandalous if thought long and hard about. But maybe that’s how lord’s greeted women of any standing.

You giggled to yourself as you imagined a scene of that wrinkly dragon Mrs Sharpe getting her paws kissed by the Earl. You imagined he would be very displeased doing so while the old beastly woman would salivate! What a lark!

Radier Manor Jersey, England 1888, Monday 9 April. 22:13 pm.

Knowing you were never going to sleep any time soon, your stomach made a faint murmur.

You believed that Mr Mikkelsen the cook wouldn’t mind if you went into the kitchen and snuck out a warm glass of milk and one of his sweet baked treats, surely that would aid this sleepless night? You rose from the bed with a sigh. Covering yourself with a wrapper that laid on the bar at the foot of the bed.

Making your way out of your room and through the halls that lead to the kitchen, your bare feet padded quietly across the carpet of the sitting room. You graciously were thankful for the moonlight that lit up the home through the unclosed curtains.

Your eyes casted to the wall above the unlit fireplace. His painting hung large and proud. The artwork held no candle to his true masculine beauty but might resemble his figure in another ten years. The moon truly reflected the blue eyes that lay on the canvas; they seemed to watch your every movement and with the stern frown brushed on his lips he didn’t look very pleased with your late awakening.

You tried not to think to hardly on your imagination.

Tiptoeing across the main entrance hall you sighed, finally you’d arrived. The wooden door was inches away from your fingertips, awaiting the moment you’d push it open; but something wasn’t right… Since a prickling sensation that trailed from the top of your skull, down your spine and through your legs suddenly sparked.

“Is it regular that you would wander about your employers home alone in the dark at night? Or is it just mine that’s so much more intriguing?”

Biting back a squeal of fright, you wheeled around to find that behind you was the Earl who had caught you attempting to sneak in the kitchen. His form was relaxed against the stair rail as he glared you down like a naughty child with arms folded across his chest similar to that of a displeased parent. Lord Henry body was basking in nothing but the light of the moon. His coat and cravat were long gone, his dark blue banyan draped over his shoulders and tied around his waist.

His height frightened you and made you feel inexplicitly tiny as a mouse.

This was your second meeting and now you realised how much you possibly looked like a dirty

thief.

You bit your lip and wrapped your arms around yourself nervously. It suddenly was obvious how immodest you appeared in your night garments, wandering about the house. You felt your breath quicken.

‘God, please don’t let him sack me’, you prayed.

You were already beyond humiliated and flustered at the extreme inappropriateness of being alone with the Earl in nothing but both your night wardrobe, you just couldn’t figure out how to politely flee back to your own room without walking around him.

You stammered “M-my Lord, please forgive me I had trouble sleeping an-and thought to get a glass of warm milk.” ‘Honesty is the best policy!’ your face screwed up into an embarrassed contortion, “Please do pardon and excuse my intrusion, I shall make way and return to my room immediately.”

You lifted a hand to your face and shielded your eyes away from Henry. Making movement to step around his tall form, you took your chance to escape, alas it was all in vain as the Earl’s large hand shot out and stole at your wrist. A high gasp drop from your parted lips. His grip not to rough but stern and strong. He was not making any notion to harm you, just to stop you from leaving his presence.

His warm liquid voice dripped out into your ears “Miss Y/L/N, please wait,” He pleaded in voice, his sapphire eyes mourned “I beg you not to leave under my sudden arrival.”

You bit your lip at the sight of his face- the hardness of his features fell away, replaced by a soft graceful smike as he quietly murmured, “It is not the first time one has found themselves awake in the night within search of Chef Mikkelsen’s delicious biscuits. Will you not sit for a moment with me?” he opened the kitchen door and gestured for you to enter.

You felt a gigantic wave of relief. Though the effects of shock were still attached to your body when all you could reply with was a scared hum.

Henry ventured into the pantry. You ventured around the table in the middle of the kitchen and looked around the spices that hung above the windows.

When his lordship came out with a tin box and two tea saucers, he noticed how his governess was standing in the middle of the kitchen looking rather…lost.

Clearing his throat he gathered your attention, “Miss Y/L/N please, do sit,” gesturing towards the chairs at the kitchen table, and graciously you sat in the chair when he dragged one out.

Laying the tin of biscuits down and placing the saucers in front of you, he fled to the cool room and collected a jug of milk. The stove unfortunately had been put out hours ago and the attempt to reheat it would take longer than desired.

He sighed, “I’m afraid only cold milk is available Miss Y/L/N.” He poured the ivory liquid into a rose painted china tea cup.

“Thank you nonetheless sir,” you politely smiled and accepted the cup into your hand. Laying your lips on the cup, you took a slight sip of the milk.

Your eyes widened, ‘this milk is phenomenon!’ Taking another small sip you hummed happily,

“Your milk must be sweeter here one the Island.”

It was lighter than cream but contained a watery consistency. Something edged the final flavour, it was eerily sweet like sugar or honey. The milk might’ve been cold to the lips but it was surprisingly warm in your belly.

Sitting down in front of you the Lord’s eyes were wide, “You haven’t tasted our milk? After all this time?” he jokingly gasped.

You shook your head. The past many weeks was too hectic for you to simply sit down and have a cup of tea or a glass of milk. You were too concerned for Odette’s wellbeing and support along with the Dalgliesh children’s education.

Your afternoons were busied with the planning of the next day. And even for the past three Sundays, you had caught sleep in bed and made sure your room was tidy and that you were ready for Mrs Sharpe intruding as she was known to do so well.

The callous woman carried all the house keys on a large ring, so despite locking your door, your privacy would still be breeched. Henry threw his head back and laughed.

Your glanced between him and the kitchen door. He was so loud! What if someone saw you like this with him ? It would be the island scandal!

It didn’t matter...

For a man possibly ten to twenty years older than you, he was very charming and boyish; his smile made suddenly made you swoon. You grinned stupidly.

Lord Henry finally settled himself and paused, swallowing down a biscuit, and glanced over at you.

“Will you not have some of the biscuits? They’re sublime,” His long fingers hooked around the edge of the tin and held it out to her.

You shook your head again with all your meek sweetness, “Oh no, my lord, you enjoy it.”

You felt you had overstepped your place and should be humble when it came to his offers.

However a little growl from your middle betrayed your motives.

The Earl let loose another hearty laugh and stole a biscuit to give to you. Biscuit in hand reached out towards you.

Still you refused the offer knowing you should’ve removed yourself from that improper and intimate scenery, you whined “No, my lord, please I ca-“

The Earl smirked and shoved the treat into your talking lips, which caused you to stop midsentence and avoid not choking on the sweet biscuit. A light gag escaped you.

The crumbs rubbed rough on your throat and you wanted to be mad at the Lord but knew not to step that boundary, ‘you got yourself into this mess stupid girl.’

“You’ll come to learn soon that I don’t take to hearing the word ‘No’ kindly Miss Y/L/N.” He flashed her a smile filled with bright whites, proud of his actions.

‘He’s rude and childish!’

A great prickling of hairs on the back of your neck rose up, something was telling you to be afraid of Henry. ‘But he only force fed you a biscuit calm down- if anything be grateful.’

“Now drink the rest of your milk, dear,” he said, pushing the cup up to your crumb covered lips.

You instantly sat back and away from his long claw like fingers, you now just wanted to go back to bed. Sculling down the sweet milk and hastily standing, you moved the chair back into place and waddled over to the sink.

You spoke respectfully but a slight tremble ran through your hands, “I should- um, I think it best I bid you a good night, my lord.”

‘Something is definitely not right, I shouldn’t be here…goodness Y/N don’t be such a scaredy cat!’ you chided yourself. Shaking your head slightly you told yourself firmly, ‘everyone knows full well that the gentry are an odd lot from time to time. He is just being friendly.’

Henry stood to attention and caught you again by the wrist before you could even lay the dishes into the sink. He had excellent aim for wrists it would appear. Providing you his uneasy smirk, he dragged you back in front of him. A single digit cupped your chin and wiped up to your parted gasping lips. Moving his finger away, he deliberately showed you the white spill of sweetness he’d caught on the corner of your mouth. His long tongue flicked out and licked up the drip before completely sucking his finger in front of you.

You gasped. ‘Too friendly, for a man of his standing; is he…with me? No, he can’t be flirting. Great scot girl, get a hold of yourself. Act not like the impute girls of your age, be a mature woman! Goodness! Why would he ever think like that? The man just lost his beloved wife a year ago.’

His hand holding your arm released and dug into the pocket of his over-night coat.

He tutted you softly “Come with me, I have an urgency to question and acquaint myself better with you.”

A hand twirled around your back and softly shoved you forward and guided you into the dark cold drawing room.

‘Is he escorting me back to my living space?’

Suddenly, he froze, his palm left your back and gestured to the lounge. You glanced behind back and up to your employer “Sir?”

“Sit,” he sharply directed followed by a lengthy spaced cough, “Please Miss Y/L/N,” he added “I desire to inquire about the children.”

You blinked under his intense stare, slowly you sat down in the lounge. You slowly drawled, “The children, my lord?”

Sitting down across from you, the Earl rubbed his hands, his brows raised followed by a light chuckle, “Yes Miss Y/L/N, the ones I am paying you to educate?” his fingers laced together.

….Marianne and Michael. So now he showed his care and interest of them?

You flushed and uneasily smiled, you felt like an utter fool, “Of course, my lord. They are doing exceptionally well. They have taken a joy to writing their own stories, they’ve demonstrated great imaginations.”

He didn’t seem too interested in what his children enjoyed that was obvious from his bodily reaction lacking any bright eyes or head perks. “I see...” He bit his lip and sighed, his face lifted to the fireplace. He looked at his portrait and snidely snickered to himself.

Scratching his chin he looked back to you, “Tell me, Miss Y/L/N, are you very tired?”

“Actually, my lord, I-“

“Miss Y/L/N. I have a few brief questions regarding the children, if you do not mind.” He asked as he lit some of the candles with a box of matched from the desk draws.

‘The children, not his children? For a lord he should learn how to speak correctly.’

You gripped the top of your wrapper collar with icy hands and uneasily shuffled. You just wanted to go to bed and sleep, but Henry pursued you further more even after you asked if they might continue the conversation at breakfast in the morning.

He release a wicked chuckled that bewildered you. ‘He’s mad!’

The Earl tossed a leg over one of his knees, he sat back and relaxed, “Now, now, I would prefer to keep this frank, quick and confidential between two adults…”

He turned his head away briefly before he leant forward into your face, his hot breath blew down on your cheeks and eyes as he tilted his head.

His dark eyes turned hot and frightening, he purred, “Do you fear me, Miss Y/L/N?”

As expected if not planned, You lurched back and gasped. Your cheeks heated up. The blue light of the moon shown on his profile. He looked like a painting of Lucifer you’d seen in a children’s bible. His mesmerising features were both terrifying and attractive to you.

You shook your head, trying to stand up straight and tall. You felt silly and embarrassed in yourself for being so flushed.

‘Except…Why would he ask me that? Does he want me to know my place, have I overstepped my glass standings too openly?’ you truly hadn’t meant to upset him enough to try and upset you in return.

“I don’t understand, my lord,” you nervously huffed, “I believed we were talking about Miss

Marianne and Mr Michael?”

You turned your head to the side away from his eyes that squinted and lips that frowned. He moved forward, resting his hands either side of your arms on the lounge. His body heat surrounded you, his banyan and your wrapper folded against each other. Silk against cotton brushing softly.

“S-sir, you come too close, please sit back.”

Henry leant into your ear and hissed in a threatening tone, “Perhaps you will learn to tolerate my ways in time, Miss Y/L/N, as my children learn from you.”

Now you were properly scared. Your chest heaved up and down. He might’ve just as well told you that he was going to throw you down the grand stair case. You were petrified and paralysed.

“Indeed but I beg you to remain civil, I am- I am most happy to inform you of their accomplishments.”

Henry smugly smiled and hummed, leaning away from your unprepared body. He clapped his hands lightly and licked his teeth. He was a hungry looking man, a man looking to conquer in war.

“Yes, I suppose you’re correct Governess,” he continued in his cheerier tone, “We must discuss the children, Miss Y/L/N. Please do tell me of their achievements in your lessons? Do they work hard? I want to hear your curriculum and methods of teaching since you seem to have difficulty understanding respect of your superiors.”

‘Difficulty understanding respect of my superiors?!’

You tightly swallowed and faced him. You wanted to bluntly tell him he was a terrible father and a rude man. Instead, you submissively answered every question he asked. Most questions he asked related to their French lessons, dancing, mathematics and literature.

“Où avez-vous appris à parler français?” Where did you learn to speak French? He asked suddenly in French. It caught you off guard his snap in transition to the language.

You curled your lips in and politely replied, “Mon père m’a appris” my father taught me.

He smirked and his brows raised, he slowly nodded, “Par exemple, un enseignant?” was he a teacher?

You smiled and shook your head. A small flush came to your cheeks

“Il devient marchand et propriétaire terrien.” He was a merchant and landowner, you gently explained. Your father was a travelling man and left he farm and cottage to you and your mother while he was away. And when your mother died, you took care of little Odette and father remained to work a little more in England instead of sailing off for months to India and China.

You felt your mouth grow incredibly dry and your lips numb. Your vision became spotty and the room swayed. You tried to stand to your feet and almost fell over onto him again like you had this morning.

“Je m’excuse,” you weakly slurred, “je suis fatiguée.” Excuse me, I am very tired.

You needed to go to bed. It was far too late for this meeting in the night that could wait till the morning.

Just before you could tell him any of this, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You fell ungracefully to the floor and weakly collapsed.

The earl smiled while whispering ‘timber’ with a tiny whistle and left you to fall hard, but winced at the loud thud. Your wrapper tie became loose and fell away to reveal your scantily clad night gown.

You were still awake. Unable to move unable to understand what was happening. Why your body would not rise and why you were just so incredibly tired. The last thing you saw was the earls looming shadowing silhouette and his deep voice humming a familiar tune.

"How many miles to Babylon..." He smiled and cocked his head to the side as he watched your poor confused gaze flutter shut.

With your eyes closed and your lips parted and your arms perfectly lain above your head, he believe you were a grand depiction of a goddess offering her life to a sacrifice.

He dug into the pocket of his banyan again, while this time he pulled out a tiny vial the size of his thumb. Henry hummed the merry lullaby as he twirled it around his fingers. It was just too easy to slip it into something as milk.

"How many miles to Babylon? Three more miles and ten. Can I get there by candle-light?" He smirked, "No and ne'er again."

He believed it to be remarkable that you would fall unconscious so easily under the influence of his drug induced milk. He worried you would cease sipping after your exclamation on the sweetness.

While poor little you was trusting him to be a gentleman…but it was part of that old scally-wag Colin Fowler’s plan, sending the girl here to be his governess.

London, England 1888, Saturday 14th January. 19:03pm.

Yes, it was now time for the Earl of Jersey to return home to his estate of Radier Manor.

He buried his face into his hands and sighed, before plucking up the unopened envelope by his desk. From the side of his desk Henry ripped open a draw and collected a letter pen. Cutting the mail open, he plucked out the parchment and glued his eyes to the words that lay before him.

My dear friend Henry Dalgliesh,

It has been over a year since your dear Natalia passed and from our last meeting you had asked whether I could provide you one of my girls for your taste in desire. I wonderfully inform you that I have discovered something much more exceedingly pleasurable in the realm of succulent kittens, consider it a gift for the favour I owed you.

I have come across two young ladies from a small farm down south, they’re virgins and as pure as snow they come. Their names are Y/N and Odette Y/L/N from Bristol. Little Odette, I will be keeping under my hand for a few more years as the dear is not ripe yet only eleven or twelve I believe; the cusp of womanhood my friend, but her older sister; a true English rose is perfect for the reaping. After the misfortune of their father’s death whom was a gambling friend of mine, the girls are in a river of debt.

For every month I will expect a “payment” from Y/N to “support her sister” despite us both knowing I don’t really need anything to care for the little dear. I suggest you use the debt against her.

Do teach the girl some manners Henry, she’s polite and innocent but completely lacking in true submission. Make her cry, beg, squeal- break her, bend her, fuck her; whatever you do, don’t kill her. Henry, do not waste my gift, use her as you want and give her back when you’re finished. I have sent her your way as a governess for your children. She should be there in a week. Sincerely,

Lord C.F.

Henry sat back and proceeded to scrunch up the news into a ball of paper, casting it into the fire. He watched the flames engulf and swallow down the evidence of his ever interesting desire. He smirked and looked back up to the painting of Natalia and laughed at her face.

“I look forward to a nice new toy darling, don’t you?” Henry threw his feet up onto his desk and folded his hands behind his head, “I am sure you do, bloody harlot.” His eyes gleamed yellow as hellfire in the reflection of the burning letter.

Yes, it was now time for the Earl of Jersey to return home to his estate of Radier Manor.

Radier Manor Jersey, England 1888, Monday 9Th April. 22:28 pm.

“That worked rather well, bit too quickly for my liking though, however extremely effective,” He muttered to himself as he pocketed it back and bent onto one knee to hover above you.

His eyes travelled your the lines of your form that he was observing from the moment he discovered your shy presence around the estates home.

He slid closer, pressing his nose to your forehead to inhale the sweet scent or your hair and skin. His eyes fluttered as his lips gasped, his cock twitched. He caressed your soft cheek with his knuckled. His eyes scanning down to your entrapped bosom.

‘I wonder if she would taste better than she smells.’

With a solidary eye to the open area down through the drawing room into the dining room, he sighed and drew you closer. If anyone caught him, he would kill them. His hand softly rubbed your forehead, which cause you to react in a subtle moan.

‘Could she be as innocent as she seemed? Is this a mistake? Should I still do this?’ Henry dared ask himself. His eyes narrowed and he consi-

- Wait… Excuse me? Hello, reader, are you holding onto hope he’s gracious and kind? It’s because you think those are Henry’ thoughts don’t you? Well, I’m afraid you’re dearly mistaken. You see, it isn’t one of those stories....romance, no; here we feed on lust, blood and blackmail. Now that’s been cleared up, back to the story, where were we? He scares you, he drugs you, ah yes here we are-

Henry tucked his hands and arms beneath your fragile body and lifted you up onto his hip, his lust pressing harshly into your waist. He blew out the candle and fled. You were his prize being glided to the forbidden room, the room he considered very special indeed.....

Helplines:

If you are a victim of sexual abuse, assault or domestic violence or know someone who is please reach out to these links that share helpline services, phone numbers or emails. Consent and respect is important in every relationship whether between friends, family or even strangers.

Australian Helpline Services

UK Helpline Services

American Helpline Services

India Helpline Services.

#henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #A Lesson in Service #henry cavill #henry cavill x female reader #sherlock holmes x poc!reader #sherlock holmes x you #enola holmes sherlock holmes #henry sherlock holmes #henry sherlock #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #dark!henry cavill #dark!sherlock holmes #ALIS

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tonysbed · 2 years

Text

Uhm Captain?You’re going to be a dad

Chris Evans x Pregnant!Fem!Reader

Summary:Chris didn’t wanted to leave you alone but had to when he had to shoot for Avengers Infinity war.Little did he know that your bundle of joy would come a month earlier

Warnings:Pregnancy,Mention of giving birth,Cast is still in their costumes

A/n:My sleep rhythm is really….Broken.I started this at 4 am now we have 6 am.Meanwhile I also started two new fics and now I’m waiting for the Grayman release on Netflix(Germany 9 am If i’m not to bad in time zones)Anyway enjoy this fluffy thing

Chris was on a shoot in Boston for Avengers Infinity War.You assured him you’ll be fine and he even called Flo so IF something happens,that someone is there to drive you to the hospital and call him.

You and Flo were sitting on the couch”Hey,I’ll get a snack for us”You say and get up”I can do that”Flo said,”No I’ll be fine Flo”You walk into the kitchen and grab the snacks from the cabinet.

In that moment you felt something wet running down your legs”Ah shit..”You mumbled”FLO?”You yelled.Moments later she stood in the doorframe. “What’s wrong?”You looked down at yourself and so did she”Oh dear..”You placed the snacks on the counter”No need to panic”You said.

“I’m not panicking.Come on”She helped you get in the car and got your hospital bag.You took out your phone as Flo started the car.You clicked on Chris contact.

A familiar voice said”Hello?Y/n?”But it was definitely not your husband”Hiddleston?What are you doing with my husband’s phone?”,”Watching it while he is shooting.I have all of the phones.What’s up?”

“Uhm..My water broke”Silence.

“Oh.Okay wait.”You heard him walking.He walked up to the green screen they were shooting at and caught them at a moment were they weren’t shooting”Uhm..Captain?”Chris looked at him”You’re going to be a dad”Tom held up the phone.Scarlett raised her eyebrows”Oh oh”

Chris froze for a moment”What are we waiting for?”Robert said and dragged Chris after him.The cast got in their cars and Chris was now on the Phone with Flo.

“She’s good don’t worry.She said she didn’t have any painful con-“Her sentence was interrupted by a painful groan that came from you”I take that back.She does has painful contractions”You slightly chuckled at her accent that sounded like Yelena.

You and Flo arrived at the hospital.Your midwife was alright waiting”Hey Y/n.And how are the contractions?”She said,wheeling you trough the hospital”5 minutes”Flo answered for you because another one hit you.

You were laying on a bed and Flo was holding your hand”When is Chris coming?”Your midwife Anna asked”On his way”You said.Like on point there was a knock on the door and a nurse peaked her head in “Mr.Evans is here”Anna gestured her to let him in.You couldn’t hold back a laugh when you saw him in his Captain America suit.

“Well…I’ve seen a lot but not a father dressed up as Captain America coming to his child’s birth”The doctor said as he entered the room.Chris laughed”I had better things to do than change now”Flo and Chris swapped places”Should I go..Or..?”Flo gestured to the door”Depends on you Flo”,”No.Your birth so you-“

“If you wanna stay,stay if you don’t,don’t”She turned around”I can’t see blood.So..Should I send someone in?”You shook your head”Thanks Flo”,”No problem Babe”She walked out of the door and bursts out laughing.

She looked at the People who were ALL dressed up as their characters”None of you changed hm?”Robert laughed”Nope.”

It took only an hour for the little Evans to arrive.Chris kissed your forehead as Anna laid the baby girl on your chest.Chris laid a hand on her and kissed you.Anna was quick to get her phone and took a picture of you two,which wasn’t weird cause you knew her for years now.

30 Minutes later everyone was in a room,in their costumes which looked very funny.Chris was sitting on your right,holding your baby.On your left,on a chair was Robert,next to him Sebastian and then Flo.On top of Flo sat Hailee.Next to that Scarlett on Renner, Zendaya on Tom,Robert on Hemsworth,Lizzie on Paul,Anthony came in with Food for everyone and made himself comfortable in Sebastian’s lap.

Hiddleston took a selfie with all of you and send it to you and Chris.Chris posted it with the caption:

Baby Evans arrived safely under the watch of the Avengers

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I hope you love this as much as I do:)I have soooooo many fics of Chris…I have 45 drafts and at least 20 of them are about Chris😭Also this is not proof read cause it’s 6:23 am and I’m lacking sleep😀But I’m not tired enough to sleep🥲

#chris evans fluff #chris evans imagine #chris evans pregnancy imagine #chris evans #robert downey jr #scarlett johansson #chris evans x fluff #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x you

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smolvenger · 4 months

Text

A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter Seventeen (Loki x fem! Reader Hiddlesverse Crossover Miniseries)

Series Summary: Based on Sarah J Mass's A Court of Thorns and Roses series with the Tom Hiddleston characters. You are a woman of 1880's in Aldwinter in Essex, England, dying of tuberculosis. Never to be married to the local Lusty Vicar. When Loki appears to you and offers to heal you...if you spend a week of every month with him

Chapter Summary: You have returned to Aldwinter. And begin to set plans for your revenge on Will.

Word Count: 6K

Warnings: Some spicy stuff but no actual smut (please forgive me, the chapters in this fic are long enough), mentions of cheating and portraying Will's cheating as bad I am very blatantly against the Will/Cora pairing in The Essex Serpent and it shows so if you like either character or the pairing, you have been warned. Mentions of sex and religion and violence and abandonment. Supporting Women's Wrongs.

A/N: Thanks to @muddyorbsblr for the brilliant ideas about how Reader could get her long due revenge and the great suggestions!

Also,

Happy New Years Eve! Instead of going to clubs and drinking and partying or being invited to a party, I'm spending it editing fanfiction. So this is to all of you out there who too feel a little lonely like me and like you should be out there doing partying and "normal" things...you aren't the only one, and I'm sending you a hug.

I hope you enjoy the start of the "next" season of Court after that cliffhanger! Leave a comment or reblog or send me an ask or dm if you especially liked it! Happy 2024!

Series Masterlist

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @asgards-princess-of-mischief @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @fandxmslxt69 @skittslackoffilter @mischief2sarawr

You could still recall your wedding with Loki.

It was night. The moons shone above. Stars sprinkled across the sky as people laughed and went out to restaurants and taverns. They weren’t the ones about to find a cauldron. They could go on in ignorance and always in safety.

But your own pulse was picking up as you held Loki’s hand. Excitement and nervousness.

You both walked into a temple, a building with a garland of roses over the door. For even gods still needed worshippers. Inside, there were two priests going about. An old man and a younger man in fine golden robes swept the floors. The younger one turned and gasped, tugging the sleeve of his sage.

They recognized Loki and both bowed.

“Ah, great prince and god of mischief, what brings you here?” the older one asked.

“I want you to marry us!” Loki announced.

Their jaws dropped, and the brown eyes of the old man grew large.

“Without the…the consent of the AllFather?” the older priest asked.

“No- I do not need it. I am not a child anymore. I am a man grown and this is the woman I want to marry.” Loki said, gesturing to you.

You walked over and placed a hand on his chest as he wrapped an arm around you.

“This is one order I give you, both as god and prince- Perform a marriage between me and Y/N. The Jotun Prophet says she is my True Love- always shall be. Don’t break the True Love Bond. Perform a marriage ceremony. I’ll reward you handsomely if you do.”

They relented. The Older Priest led you both to the large altar in the next room. It had a tall statue of Frigga smiling with outstretched hands from her gown’s sleeves. Firewood was brought to make a nice kindling blaze in the fireplace from the younger priest to the fireplace in the room.

The older priest gestured you both to You walked around it to the wooden table placed right before the statue. It was covered in runes in its tan wood. There was a small dagger, a cornucopia, and a tall, white candle that the elder priest lit with fire from the fireplace. The younger priest stood to bear witness, as well as holding a spare marriage contract for you both.

“The AllMother might feel a slight twinge in the air tomorrow, for marriage is part of her realm. But yet…if you are certain, then you are certain. Any last things you would like before we begin?” asked the older priest.

“It feels a little more like a lamb is about to be sacrificed than a wedding,” you shyly commented, for the Christian weddings of home were more what you were used to.

“The AllMother doesn’t like offerings of lamb!!” laughed the older priest.

“Here- let me make it more decorated, then,” Loki offered.

With a flick of his hand, there were flowers everywhere. Soft roses in bloom, their perfume a gentle caress in the air. They decorated the statue and the altar. Flower crowns were placed on the two priests, much to their amusement.

“Should I go back home and get that lacy bustle dress then? I know it’s your favorite” you teased Loki.

He gave you a small laugh, then lifted his hand and flicked it in the air.

Golden light came down from over your heads, he gave himself rich green robes with gold armor plates over his shoulders Both a prince and a groom.

You looked as the magic went over you and your clothes transformed on your body. You were given a long dress that was a soft blush pink to compliment his green. It shimmered when light touched it. It showed your shoulders but the sleeves were so long they draped to the floor, the way that a few of the queen’s dresses did. For that was what a woman of royalty wore. The bodice made a heart shape over your chest. On your head was a long veil that went down your back and onto the floor of sheer material, forming a beautiful train melting into a lacelike pattern. It made you look like you floated.

You smiled up at him.

“It’s beautiful, thank you!” you gasped.

Loki smiled, then nodded at the priest for him to begin.

You clasped hands. There was a prayer and some milk poured into a bowl and placed at the feet of the statue as an offering to Frigga..Loki conjured daggers for you both to trade, symbolizing how you would protect each other.

“Now, make your vows to each other,” signaled the Priest.

Loki held your hands. Though the priest whispered the words in his ear, he repeated it with sincerity.

"I, Loki, do swear before the AllFather and AllMother, take you to be my wife, my friend, my lover, and my companion. From this day until only death do us part. I pledge you my fidelity, refusing all others as long as we live. My softest words and tenderest embraces. I shall choose to respect you and choose to love you. In my bed and on my table. In battle and in peace. In sickness and in health. In joy and in sorrow. Day and night. From this hour, as long as we both live."

You took his hands and repeated what the priest whispered into your ear.

“I, Y/N, do swear before the AllFather and AllMother, to take you to be my husband, My friend, my lover, and my companion. From this day until death do us part. I pledge you my fidelity, refusing all others as long as we live. My softest words and tenderest embraces. I shall choose to respect you and choose to love you. In my bed and on my table. In battle and in peace. In sickness and in health. In joy and in sorrow. Day and night. From this hour, as long as we both live."

Then Loki’s magic brought up the ring- the very one you won from the Weaver’s cottage.

“That was why the Weaver thought I earned it…even she knew…” you wondered.

“She’s a matchmaker then, who knew,” Loki teased.

Loki placed it gently around your finger. He conjured a ring that you slipped through his finger.

There was a final prayer and chant. The younger priest brought forth the document which you both signed.

“Now seal it with a kiss- and all the nine realms shall consider you husband and wife,” announced The Older Priest.

You did, happily. Embracing each other and locking lips. They both smiled and applauded. Loki paid them generously with a conjured bag of coin.

You both were still holding hands as you hurried home. Your wedding gown and his shoulder plates glowing in the moonlight.

With the crowds around Asgard, you could slip by unnoticed. But you were smiling. He was red-cheeked, almost running and pulling you with him until you picked up your skirt and met his pace. You ran together back home at an equal speed. The thrill of being married at last soaring in your hearts.

You got home in your finery, clutching hands happily. At the entrance, no one came to meet you. The guards simply allowed you through, never asking questions.

“Husband…” you teased, tasting the word. Placing a hand on his warm chest. His eyes went big.

“In the older times, a marriage isn’t considered legal until it is consummated. Is Asgard…like that?” you asked with a slight giggle in your voice.

Loki took his hands around your waist.

“Better safe than sorry, then,” he agreed.

He scooped you easily into his arms and carried you right into his chambers. Taking you onto his green bed and laying you down.

He crawled on top of you and kissed you. Desire burned between your legs as he let in some of his tongue and touched your face, pulling you close. Hands greedily running down your body. Giggling you rolled over so he laid down and you were on top. The veil shimmered as it fell from your head into a melted, sparkly puddle on the floor. He let out a small gasp of surprise but laughed it off, his ivory face below you, his beautiful black curls splayed across the bed.

‘Now that we are wed, I’m going to make my wife scream with pleasure on our wedding night. And every night after that.”

His hands went to your hips, gripping the flesh beneath the cloth. You set yours on his broad shoulders.

“First I’ll have to spare your stallion and ride you instead!” you whispered.

“I love you, my wife… and princess,” he voiced.

“I love you too- prince and husband,” you said.

You began to grind him as he undid his own leather trousers. Then you pulled up your long skirts and began to sink onto his-

“O God, whose blessed Son was manifested that He might destroy the works of the devil and make us the children of God and heirs of eternal life:...”

The vicar’s voice broke you out of your memories.

That was just the past. And here you were in a familiar scene. The memory is still warm in your body though you were back in that sterile church.

“Grant us, we beseech thee, that, having this hope, we may purify ourselves even as he is pure…’ Will continued to intone, signaling the beginning of the service.

You were sitting dutifully on the front row next to your parents. Just as you did for a long time. You were back home in Aldwinter, but you did not feel like the same lovesick girl counting down the days to her wedding and smiling up at the vicar with love and even restrained lust.

No, you kept your eyes down to the checkered floor, hands positioned to pray. You wore a dark-colored dress, but you were not in mourning. You would paint the picture of piety and repentance here. Still aware of the eyes still on you. Of the gossip.

“She left our respectable rector for that god. Yet she’s back here and - bless him, he loves her! He’s going to marry Y/N anyway despite all of that! Despite her being ruined. Despite her betrayal,” was what they were whispering in their pews and parlors.

‘They got it wrong as to who ultimately betrayed who. Twice.’ you thought. But you held back that part of you in your head. It was rather talkative lately, but you knew better than to utter a word of your true thoughts.

You looked about. There was the old chandelier that hung up with unlit candles. You wondered how they stayed on. What would happen if one were to fall? Would it hit someone?

To your amusement, you realized one hung over where Will was standing. You wished you could make a candle fall to hit him on the curly auburn head. It would have been funny, even the congregation would laugh. But you didn’t.

It deserved to be a knife aimed at his skull instead.

Everyone kept their heads down, though sometimes a pair of eyes would meet yours.

You were back. You told them- your family, old friends, and neighbors- little of what happened. As far as they knew, you were enchanted. But the spell was broken. Yhat you were returned safely- to pray, repent, and process all that happened with Loki…

And sometimes you did. The things you never imagined you would see or do when you went to Asgard. You thought you would live a plain little life in a plain little town and that you were content to do so. Did they know that you learned how to wield swords and daggers? That you were blessed with magic? Of the people you met from other worlds and timelines and planets? Stole belongings or helped in their stealing? Escaped death multiple times? Fought? Even killed? That you found new friendships with queens, princes, and warrior women? Seen aliens? Been to a ball? Met gods and learned to love one and was even married to him?

Now- here you were. In your old clothes and old church. Did those grand adventures even happen at all?

You knew they did.

There were a few extra faces in the pews. For some in town were surprised by an influx of men who built small houses and stayed nearby. Some women were thrilled for a bunch of new bachelors and hoped for marriage with one of them. They all said they were part of a construction company and factory that was nearby…when really they were of Grendel’s army. Bullies and monsters, all of them. And it was none other than Will who agreed with Grendel to let them stay in the town…if Grendel got you back here to him.

Will’s sermon continued as normal. He seemed happy as he began to discuss Paul’s book of Romans. Once you would have sat up in rapt attention. But you could hardly pay attention to it anymore. He seemed like a ghost in his long white robes. He wore a long blue sash draping down his shoulders trimmed with gold with symbols on the ends. He smiled brightly as he stood before the congregation, folding his hands so they disappeared from his robe’s sleeves.

You heard the voice of your husband through the bond.

'I’m going to kill him,' Loki said clearly in your head.

'Not yet,' you replied.

'I’m going to get out my dagger, and stab him right where he is.'

'Loki, please, don't'

'Then I’m ripping a portal to this church, slinging you over my shoulder, and carrying my wife out of this place. Right. Now.'

'Loki, I wish you could- but consider: they're watching. The whole town is watching and not just now! Everyone is obsessed and looking for you. My parents keep the doors to the house locked except for when I go on my daily walk. Everyone has purchased a weapon. They’re searching like madmen for you in Aldwinter. It’s not safe for you to just barge in.'

Now people discussed the Trickster god who kidnapped and ravished women more than the Serpent that was just a dead whale. They searched everywhere. Children played games and whispered about him. One thought they saw him in the woods. Another thought they saw him in the marshes. People kept close eyes on their daughters- he took first you, then Stella twice, and who knew which lady would be next?

One day, there was a rowboat on the river in town. It nearly ran into another rowboat. And no fishing nets were inside.

“What are you out here for?” one rowman asked.

“Lookin’ for the Trickster god! He was sighted here, wasn’t he?” answered the other boat’s first rowman.

“Blast it, not if I find and shoot him first!” said another rowman from the other boat.

‘But, my dear pet-’ Loki continued to sigh.

‘No- I don’t want you to. Besides, even if you could quickly get me out, I don’t want to leave yet…not without seeing to it that Will is punished’ you sent to him.

'You do deserve revenge, Loki agreed “So I should turn into a cat again, trot up to him purring, and then jump out and stab him.'

'Loki, it is a habit of men to avenge women they love who were wronged. It is in many stories- it is always the woman who suffers and dies horribly because of a villain’s sins and it is not her, but the man who is allowed to live to avenge her. Those writers don’t understand we ladies are perfectly capable of exacting our own revenges. I would like to do it. I am the person Reverend Ransome has wronged most of all. If anyone should do the stabbing, it should be me.'

'Then get a knife and throw it towards him in church!' Loki suggested.

'No! He will duck and it shall be me who goes into jail and shall be killed, not him. I can’t just murder him willy-nilly and with no certain escape or sanctuary. I must be careful with this if I am to get away with it.'

Part of you was impressed by him. Making a deal for your safe return at least, done by a man whose heart couldn’t be settled on one woman. You were keeping your simmering rage at bay. You took a look at the church, you noticed the walls that seemed blue-green in the overcast sky when they were really white. The light brown pews and the table with a tall wooden cross on it with two candles between. The three chandeliers. The two windows that overlooked everyone were like eyes.

When you burned Aldwinter to the ground, the church would be first.

No, no you couldn’t. Why should so many innocent people suffer because of one man’s decisions? You had to figure out how to exact revenge on the reverend Will Ransome, in a way that would affect him and only him. And in a way that no one would suspect it was you.

The service continued on as normal. Though you were always in a half-sleepy, silent daze now instead of at attention, doing every repetition of prayers and singing each hymn and crossing yourself soberly.

Sunday evening, as always, a nice dinner was made for Will, your fiancee and guest. It was as if the letter you wrote to him ending things was never sent.

It was the same picture. Everyone sitting down in your house. Napkins draped across laps as forks and knives clinked with plates. The smell of the meal wafting- your mother’s roast with salad and bread and potatoes. Laughter and chatter.

You would make a smile appear on your face, eating politely and quietly.

Then your father made one clap and rubbed his hands, looking at you and Will.

“Now- let us discuss the wedding! Do you have a date selected, my dears?” he asked.

“We have discussed about the wedding a little more…” Will began.

‘But I’m already married,’ you thought, glancing down at the emerald ring always on your finger.

Then again, Will wasn’t known for respecting the boundaries of marriage.

The Lusty Vicar placed a hand over yours and held it.

“We will reschedule the wedding for next month,” Will suggested. His blue eyes shined to you. “Then, my angel, I shall finally call you my wife.”

‘I would rather the Serpent become real and devour me,’ you thought.

“It shall be lovely,” you replied with a small smile.

“We shall have a wedding- free of interruptions and no sickness and no spells. It shall be simpler, mind you- we all know how much the first one cost,” your mother added.

“A big wedding doesn’t matter as long as it’s with a good man who truly loves you,” you commented.

Will again looked at you softly. He spoke with a smoothness, almost a seductive tone, like when he proposed to you. Not caring the others were there. In fact, they enjoyed it.

“It was God who told me you were to be my bride, Y/N.”

‘But God didn’t tell me.’ you thought. You only looked up at him and smiled.

“And we shall spend our lives fulfilling His word together,” he continued.

‘Did God also tell you to stick your fingers up Cora’s-’

“Oh, how beautiful! To see you finally married off to this godly, lovely man!” your mother sighed out loud.

“I am the happiest woman in Essex, ” you replied.

He kissed your hands and left back home.

“Y/N, now that you are a parsonage bride, be sure to attend to your duties at the church tomorrow. You must become used to them,” your mother reminded you.

One idea hit you. A small step.

Revenge you realized, was similar to cooking or baking. When one has a recipe, there are all sorts of small ingredients to gather, steps to take, and things to measure and mix. Small steps. They don’t seem like much at first, but bit by bit, they became something bigger, grander.

“Yes, mother. I shall,” you replied dutifully.

The next afternoon, the church was empty. Only Will and a few others planning out events in the meeting room. You had to help keep it tidy and check plans for Sunday School, for you were now going to join as another volunteer teacher for the children. As you looked over the lesson plans with the other teachers, you reached out your powers through your gifts. Searching. Would they be where they were last…

They reached his office. To what was under his desk.

No box. And no personal mail.

The letters from Cora were not in his office, you realized. That would take some searching.

But another thing was near his office- the church treasury kept in a safe in the next room.

Another step to your revenge.

One of the benefits of being a vicar was that while a clergyman received some of the tithes, a vicar got all of them.

Of course, some of it went to support his own church and ministry as well as put bread on the table. Will was probably discussing the budget with them from the Sunday tithes.

Finishing the Sunday School lesson planning was done.

Your senses told you the room with the safe was empty.

The old woman who taught the children’s Sunday school chattered on. Usually, women could teach children and other women. It was rare for a woman to teach a Sunday School class that included men. You got up. Saying you were going to get a glass of water and to wait for the Reverend, excuse me.

No one was in the hall. You quickly hurried in, your steps soft. To not click on the floors. Your powers unlocked the door and you stepped in. The plain brown room with a plain grey safe.

Quickly, your senses managed to unlock it. Opening up to numerous checks and huge wads of cash and coins in baskets.

You got out a few things of cash. Taking off your shoe, you slipped it beneath your foot and then retied it on. You then locked it back. Quickly walking away. You went over to the church kitchens to get your glass of water and sip on it in one of the parlors, your eyes down in innocence.

When you got home, you sat down in your chair, claiming you were tired and needed to rest. You looked at the blue gloves you had been knitting recently. Your eyes focused, your powers embracing it. You let it rip open and then reattach, sewn back together easily.

You removed your shoes and got out the cash.

You took the money and placed it in a blank envelope. Oh, how you wished you could recreate handwriting! Then you would forge Will signing it! But you could not, as much as you practiced. That would have given you away.

So at night, when no one was around, no one walking the streets, you briefly slipped the letter under your door. Then you went back to continue to knit more gloves as your parents read.

'Move' you commanded the letter silently.

And it did- it began to drift through the dirt road. You sensed where Mrs. Seaborne resided and directed the letter there as it floated through the ground as if a breeze moved it.

'Go to her house, slip it under the door,' you commanded it.

Quietly as a firefly. It located the house of a certain widow and slipped it under the door.

Your parents then said you would have to read the Bible more, to prepare for your marriage, and gave you a new copy they had bought. You turned to the Old Testament book of Judges and silently read some as they continued their own post-dinner activities by candlelight.

You poured over one story in that book. There was once a tyrant named Sisera who had long oppressed the Hebrew people. After his army lost a decisive battle with the Hebrew forces, he fled like a coward. He discovered a tent where who should be there, but only an ordinary housewife named Jael. She knew what he had done. She let Sisera have her food and sleep there as a guest, promising him that he was safe. Then as he slept, she got out a tent peg and killed him by hammering it through his skull.

You wondered why there weren’t more sermons discussing Jael. Why many never even spoke of her. Or perhaps even knew of her.

So every day you sat, sewed, obeyed your parents and fiancee, and prayed and bided your time. You had to seem like Jael- an innocent, dutiful, pleasant woman who would only do what was asked of her. Then, when the time was right, you would drive the peg through the skull of your Sisera.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ─── Will loved to take long walks in the mornings. Especially through the fields, the forests, and by the sea. You realized each day you sensed him. They were like clockwork-mid morning after breakfast. Then he would go out for at least an hour. If not two.

That would be the perfect time to find the letters.

The next morning, you said you were out to walk and take care of some errands. Your parents thought nothing of it but wished you well. You walked out.

You walked into the town and through. Careful that none were watching you. You knew where it was. You had been there one night before.

There it was- the tall white house, the vicarage. There was a large, plain backyard save for the little house made of sticks for the dog to sometimes rest in.

The dog was already outside, leased to the house for safety as his keeper was out. The sweet, brown terrier. He went up to you, wagging his tail, for he knew you. You got him little treats of bread from your pocket that you fed to him, so he would be happy and not bark up a storm. No more than what would alert any passerbyes. After petting him for some time, you got back up to go to the vicarage.

Your powers unlocked the door and you went inside. Now you weren’t as clouded with emotion, you could look about the place.

It was light tan wood on the inside. There was a kitchen with an empty table and vase. A little fireplace. A parlor by the windows with cushions where one could watch the outside.

It was a large house. The right size for a man who was expected to start a family.

You turned past one door, peeking inside, and you saw a bedroom. A large blue bed, neatly made.

To think, that was where the wedding night that never happened would have taken place…

Then you continued, you felt odd. Nostalgic for something you never experienced…a life you never lived, had wanted to live, and in a way, still wanted to live.

There was his study. The wallpaper on it was green, full of vines, leaves, flowers, and even birds all over. Beautiful and elaborate. There was a window where sunlight poured through the window over his desk sat. Looking out to the countryside outside. There was an oil lamp where one just turned and there it was. So many papers and journals on his desk, yet in neat piles. But most impressive in his room were the bookshelves. His study was almost a library in itself- tall bookshelves. Full of books, more than you could name. It was likely they all were books of theology or even history or anything having to do with his ministry and studies.

You looked about, pausing and smelling the musk of the place. The beautiful wallpaper. The impressive collection of books.

You could almost feel it like wearing an old shirt- the life you once had. A life that was also within your grasp again. A life where you would live in this house as Mrs. Ransome.

To sit in that bed knitting next to him as he read. To sleep beside him and with him. To fulfill your marital duties at night with quiet passion. A life where you planned the activities the children would do in Sunday school on your kitchen table. Sew up white angel costumes for the Christmas pageant every year. To go and stand by his side helping to bring out alms on a day of charity.

Sweeping and scrubbing all day instead of intense physical training. No worries about Grendel, but of making sure the dinner would be warm when he got home.

One where you would gather flowers from your garden to plop into that vase, making them look nice. A life where you would fix tea and lemon biscuits, and deliver them on a tray to him in his study as he wrote his next sermon. To give it to him and he would smile up from his papers. A life where you would sit by the fire sewing, discussing whatever sermon was coming up next with him as he made notes. Plan recipes for the newest church dinner or picnic coming up and talk to him about who was making what. Picking pastel wallpaper for a certain special room in the future for both of you. Holding hands in the middle of services.

No quests, adventures, or fighting. A quiet life, a domestic, peaceful life. A life you could no longer have. A life no longer accessible -and a life you knew you could no longer let yourself want.

Your powers reached and you found you were correct in your suspicions.

The second desk drawer on the left side. The locked one.

Your powers unlocked it and it jiggled open. There inside were letters. The love letters from Cora to the Lusty Vicar.

Because he wasn’t known as the Faithful Vicar.

Though it made your heart race and your stomach turn, you picked up the letters and began to skim through some of them. You couldn’t take all of them or he would be immediately suspicious. You had to select only a limited number of them- so they had to be the most damning ones.

You turned past one discussing the Serpent to a piece of paper with Will’s handwriting on it. A draft of a letter to respond to her.

“I apologize for not writing, there was too much to say. I cannot think straight around you. I love you, Cora.”

Love- Love! He was sure it was love! You noticed the rest of it was full of scribbled-out words.

Then you found the next one from Cora. Two words in it stood out to you and nearly made you drop the paper.

“Come quickly.”

She was asking Will to leave you for her! The shock made the letter tremble in your hands and your vision went dizzy at the edges.

“Come quickly.”

Your mind then raced, imagined, as minds do… spiraling further in its self-destructive cycle of imagination. Will told you he wouldn’t leave you…he also said he loved you. Said that he still loved you…

“Come quickly.”

What if you already married Will…and he ran off with Cora?

You imagined the scene.

You could see it already in this house. You would be doing your daily duties humming a cheerful song. Refreshing the vase in the kitchen with flowers. Planning ingredients for dinner.

The day turned to evening…and realizing he was taking longer with his church duties than normal. Wondering if something happened. Already missing him as you dusted off the countertops. Full of happy memories of him in your earlier days of marriage. The light brown kitchen where he’d lay a gentle hand on your shoulder in fondness as you stirred the soup. The doorways you teased that he was too tall for. Looking through the dinner you were going to make that night.

Panic bubbled lightly as the sun dipped down and the day became night.

You would finally wander into his study. The light shining orange from his lamp…. There, on the table was a letter addressed to you from him. You would reach for it and read it.

“My dear wife, I am in love with Cora Seaborne. I cannot think straight around her…with her, there is too much to say. I am going with her. I ask for your blessing. I will make sure you are taken care of. Thank you, for your dear blessing on us and for our love.” Will.”

And enclosed were several bills of cash money.

For he knew a married woman could not submit a check at the bank, then the money would go to her husband.

And now, your husband was gone.

The utter shock. Rereading it to make sure it was real, that this nightmare was real. The rage. The tears. The brokenness washing over you. How you would shake. Holding onto his desk for support. Until your legs gave out- how you would collapse, sobbing. Those three little words that would feel like a kick over and over: “for our love.”

Then, you would wander into another room—the pastel one. For by now, there would likely be an occupant.

A little baby in a cradle.

A nursery decorated with the theme of Noah’s Ark. A painting of the wooden boat and of doves with twigs in their beaks on the wall. Full of little animal toys going two by two. Specially decorated for this child’s arrival.

To look down at the little infant in its cradle. So lovingly swaddled safe and warm. A child who was half you and half Will.

On one hand, perhaps it would be worse if he took the child with him. A child you would never know if you would see again, for a husband could deny his wife access to their children. The law saw the child as Will’s, not yours.

And he already found a new replacement, a new wife for him, and a new mother to this child.

It was as if you never mattered in the first place.

But now, the child would be babbling and looking around. Then it would burst into tears, for it missed the cradling arms of its father. You would shush it and try to rock it. Call their name, sing a lullaby in a broken, crying voice, and kiss their forehead- the last reminder of Will you’d always have by you.

To think, once this child was old enough, you would have to look them in the eye and explain why Papa wasn’t around like the other Papas were with their children, even if Papa was a priest. That Papa loved Mama…but he wasn’t in love with Mama.

How you would cradle that child to your chest, walking through the rain, the letter in your pocket. Trudging to your parents home in the middle of a rainstorm in the night. Knocking on the door. They’d open. Seeing a sobbing baby and a sobbing mother.

To tell them what happened. You couldn’t imagine what they would say, would do. They wouldn’t have the heart to even turn you down. But perhaps people would talk.

Maybe you didn’t cook as well. Maybe you were mad and had to be sent to an asylum. Maybe you weren’t as pretty as Cora. Or as interesting or clever. Maybe you didn’t pleasure Will enough in his bed and the Lusty Vicar had to be satiated somehow.

You would not be able to file a divorce. A husband who had an affair and now abandoned you was not the legal grounds for a wife to divorce a husband.

In the eyes of both God and the Law, you were still William Ransome’s wife.

Now…you had to stay married to him until only Death did you part or he decided to initiate a divorce. Even though you were the upright, godly, proper vicar’s wife…the law would not be on your side. Not as a woman.

To wait. For envelopes that had letters- and especially money. To live at the mercy of those envelopes. Hoping the cash would be enough. For food, for warm clothes for your child- no his child, for by the law, the child belonged to the father, not the mother. The humiliation, the pain, the loneliness.

All because Will and Cora were in love.

And all because a stupid whale carcass was what brought them together in the first place!

You wanted to take that lamp that sat at his desk and throw it at the wall until it shattered into a million pieces. You wanted to tear at that letter. Topple the bookshelves and rip apart every last book that belonged to Father William Ransome. Do every violent thing to destroy that room in a rage. To run to Cora’s house armed with a cane like what men and old people used to walk with. For it was she who wrote that letter in the first place. Ready to beat the tar out of her until she-

But no…that wasn’t real. That didn’t happen. This was real, you reminded yourself. You were just sitting in his office with shaking hands.

‘I am not the Unwanted Wife of Aldwinter…I am the Princess of Asgard. Loki loves me, he says I’m beautiful, that I am enough for him- that I am great and awe-inspiring…he is who matters now. I am. Beautiful, powerful, and dangerous. I have the Aesir people, the servants of the palace, the warriors, and the army and legion of Asgard at my disposal- and I shall strike into Will and Cora until they plead for the mercy I will never give them,’ you reminded yourself.

Your senses reached out again and you found old documents from when Will was granted the vicarage and position. You memorized the names of those who appointed him. You searched thoroughly until you found papers with the address of the seminary that appointed him. Taking a scrap piece of paper on the desk and his pen, you wrote their names, as well name of their building and its address. You wrote it down and then hid it in your stocking.

And you had to hurry- what if he decided to return soon? Your senses told you he was still walking outside…but you would not tempt fate.

Taking in a shaky breath, you returned the draft of his letter- you could take it. But if it was missing, he would suspect something was afoot. You set the draft down.

You planned to take two to damn Will. Instead, you took three love letters- including the “come quickly” letter. For she was going to be punished already as harshly as he.

You stuffed them into the pockets of your skirt.

You promptly left the vicarage back to town, taking a path that made it less suspicious you came directly from there.

You did a little grocery shopping, and returned, saying you had to walk to clear your head- you had a nightmare last night. About Loki. You poured a few tears and they fixed you some tea in consolation, telling you that your enchantment and the dreadful act of warming his bed was all over.

Then, once you were alone in your room, You took out the letters from your clothes and hid them your copy of The Tenant of Wildfell Hall, which you kept firmly in your personal bookshelf.

They were ingredients left to simmer until boiling. You had the evidence and the first address to send one to. You now had to figure out where to send the other two to bring them down.

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lady-rose-moon · 1 year

Text

⬧ 𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 ⬧

A collection of Loki/Tom Hiddleston characters x Reader Masterlist!

Everything here is 18+ so if you are not 18, you should not be looking at the content of this blog! (灬º‿º灬)♡

I Have You - Loki x Reader | Ongoing - NEW CHAPTERS EVERY MONDAY

Kinktober - Loki x Reader | Incomplete - 12 days posted

Fluff-A-Thon - Loki x Reader | Complete - 3 posted

The Selection - Loki x Reader | Complete - Eleven Chapters

Series

Cabin in the Mountains || TS!Loki x Reader || 🢖 fic finished ↠ oneshots and skits added regularly

I am yours, my Goddess (Will Ransome x Reader) - Complete

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔒𝔫𝔢 🢖 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎'𝚜 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝙶𝚘𝚍 (w/c 3.7k)

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔴𝔬 🢖 Your Grace (w/c 4.9k)

It's my plan (Loki x Reader, dad!Loki & child!OFC) - Complete

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔒𝔫𝔢 ↠ It's my plan (w/c 4.1k)

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔴𝔬 ↠ It's my plan - part two (w/c 6.2k)

I need him back (deceased!Loki x vengeful!corrupted!Reader) - Complete

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 ↠ I need him back (w/c 6.7k)

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒘𝒐 ↬ I have to get him back (w/c 12k)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 🢖 I have him back (w/c 7.2k)

↳ A sadder ending (AU) (w/c 1.7k)

Little Variant (Haven Lokidottir & TVA!adopteddad!Loki) - Complete

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞 ↣ Little Variant (w/c 2.7k)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨 ↣ My Sweet Variant (w/c 4.6k)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 ↣ My Alternative Variant (w/c 6.9k)

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫 ↣ Can I trust a variant? (w/c 8k)

↣Oneshots↢

A night of passion

One lazy morning

The sun is shining on us ↣ Thor & Loki oneshot

Every step of the way ↣ Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Hello Mummy

On The Wet Marshes ↣ Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Potential ↣ Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Meet your daughter ↣ Tom Hiddleston x Reader

I missed you

Will you be my dagger

You'll learn to love me

Right person, wrong time

Everything I wanted

What am I?

Clubbing Night

Cosy Nights

A false wonderland

Sing for me

I'll hold you through it

Rendezvous in the changing room

I do love you!

My darling

A walk in the snow

Winter Drabble

Comfort me

A birthday to remember

A cool December night

See you again someday

I am his safe space

Don't wait ↣ Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Stay after class

Skits

A little something

Can horror games scare a God

BBQ days

Cuteness

i thought she'd cry, not you

A test

Imagine 1

Imagine 2

Date night

A fun day

The wedding

Moral support

A moment

Loki's bad day

Loki's shadow

Goodnight to Haven

Lil' angst drabble

Fluff's

Fluff-A-Thon - Loki x Reader | Complete - 3 posted

Take a breather, my love ↣ work motivation from Loki

Our little Haven ↣ Loki's first moments with Haven

Library meet cute ↣ meeting Loki for the first time

#loki god of mischief #loki x reader #masterlist <3 #loki masterlist #complete works #hope you enjoy!

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redfoxwritesstuff · 11 days

Text

Sunflower, Book 1, Chapter 20

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: We get a it pissy, Flashback- nudity, female nipples, A dick gets touched a wee bit. Edit: **Yes, I got the chapter number wrong again...Fixed it **

AN:It's getting hot in here! Chapter warning- Our flashback finally has both nipples and dicks. Well, a dick. Very short mention of light foreplay and dirty talk. The flashback isn't long enough to be of anything more than once again blueballing readers. How long do you think I can do this before you actually get to the smut?

On a little more serious note, Kit is struggling. I'm sorry for anything that comes from me that is more unhinged than is normal though at this point, more unhinged than is normal is becoming the normal.

Masterlist Kofi AO3

~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3

Mia woke warm and comfortable. It wasn’t how she usually woke. She tended to blast the AC at night or crack open the window during the winter. Anything to get it cold while she fell asleep. It was always something she regretted in the morning though when she had to drag herself from bed but the contrast of being warm and cozy under the blankets and the cold air in the room made for the best sleep.

This was something she could get used to, she decided as arms tightened around her. She had no business thinking that though. Tom traveled much for his career, even if they had managed to work out for real, how often would she get to wake up with him, tucked into his arms like this?

They didn’t fall asleep in this position. They never did. More often than not in their short time together, she went to bed before Tom did. He often had late night calls and business to attend to thanks to the time difference but every morning she had woken in his arms and slipped herself free.

Their life was quickly setting into a weird sense of normal. It was happening faster than she had been prepared for. They were strangers, friends and spouses all at the same time, changing with the fleeting moments. It felt like they were strangers less and less though.

Mia would wake up too early and make breakfast for her and Sally. Tom would wake shortly after and go down to the complex gym where he would run. Running was something Mia never really seemed to enjoy but Tom would spend quite some time running every morning.

He needed to stay fit for his next project, he had told her. Running was something he enjoyed regardless but for his character he needed to be lean and fit. It was far easier for him to maintain the physique rather than let it slip and have to play physical catch up.

Pinching at her belly, Mia knew it wouldn’t hurt her to join him. She could stand to drop some weight. It was just a matter of time before she was face to face with how horrible people can be when talking about women’s bodies. If she had a flat stomach, maybe they would have less to pick at.

Who was she kidding? They would find something. They always did and she liked carbs too much. Plus, she had grown a whole ass child. No matter what she did, she didn’t think she’d have that flat stomach of her teens back again.

After Tom had his morning run, he would come back for a shower and a light breakfast. An egg, some toast and fruit usually was what he would have. Mia would sometimes have it ready for him when he came back up but other times she lost track of time and he made it for himself without complaint.

Every time he came back though, he would greet her with an arm around her waist and a squeeze of his hand on hers. It was a greeting she began to look forward to every morning.

Mia sat at the table, plate of pancakes and eggs in front of her. Sally was across from her and they were practicing spelling ‘Sally’ and writing Mia’s phone number on a dry erase board as they ate.

Sure, it would be quicker and easier to eat then practice, one task at a time but Sally was in a learning mood. Mia had long ago learned that when a child wanted to learn, you took advantage of that for as long as you could.

Ride that wave while it lasted.

Once Sally had these things down, Mia would start teaching their address. In handful of weeks Sally would be starting kindergarten and Mia wanted her to be as prepared as she could be going into it.

“What do you want for your birthday?” Mia asked as Sally finished writing her phone number again.

“Someone’s got a birthday coming up?” Tom asked from the doorway. His hair was dark with water from the shower still and sticking up in every direction from being towel dried. Mia had yet to get used to seeing him like that, tee shirt clinging lightly to his still slightly damp chest in places.

“In two days!” Sally was great about not annoying people wit her upcoming birthdays.

Mia had always been thankful for that but it also made her feel guilty. They never had the money to go big. Birthdays were always small affairs with little homemade cakes and dollar store toys. If Mia was lucky, she could get one or two quality toys. Ashley would pull through usually with something that wouldn’t break in two weeks.

“Well, what are you doing for your birthday?” Tom asked, focused intently on the small girl that had unexpectedly became a part of his life.

“I want a pool party!” Sally had seen a birthday pool party in a show and she had talked about off and on since. Mia had hoped that she had forgotten.

“Well, if that’s what the birthday girl wants, that’s what she’ll get!” Tom loved birthdays. His sister had warned him against becoming over eager plenty of times when it came to things for her own children. “What is the birthday girl going to want for her birthday?”

“A pony!” Mia cringed back. Sally was treating it like a game. She probably thought it was. Mia was terrified however that Tom would take the request seriously.

“Do you even know how to ride a pony?” Tom leaned forward and raised an eyebrow dramatically.

Please be joking. Please be joking. Mia wasn’t sure there was a graceful way to jump in if he wasn’t joking.

“Noooo.” Sally giggled.

“Have you ever even touched a pony?” Tom asked, lowering the eyebrow and raising the other. It was comical and Mia couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth.

Please don’t buy her a pony. Please, Please, do not by her a fucking pony.

“Nooo.” Sally giggled harder.

“Well maybe a pony would be something to work up to.” Tom leaned back and put his eyebrows back where they belonged. “But who knows what birthday miracles may happen.”

~~~~~<3

Mia waited for Tom outside of Sally’s door. At least for the time being, Tom was the requested guest star of bedtimes and Mia had been pushed aside. Sure, she could have felt jealous or threatened by it but she instead relished in the help.

She was tired from working her shift. Her feet hurt and the dress was uncomfortable but she made it home just in time for bedtime. She gave her hug and kisses and goodnights but Sally wanted the bedtime story from Tom and Tom alone once again.

Mia tried not to worry about how Sally would cope with things when Tom left again. It would be time to take him to the airport again before they knew it. She wasn’t looking forward to it at all. Sally would miss him. Mia would miss the help greatly.

Mia would miss him greatly too.

Tom being there meant she didn’t have to pay for a babysitter, though this was the first day he was on his own without Gretchen relieving him for part of the day or supervising. He had insisted he was fine with watching Sally while he was there.

He reminded her again and again that he was her step father, even if Sally didn’t know that yet. It was a job he insisted he took seriously and so far, it seemed that he did. He had all but begged her to trust him and begrudgingly, she did.

“Good Night.” Tom said, stepping out of the door and closing it behind him, nearly walking into Mia. “Oh-”

“Do not buy her a pony.”

Tom laughed and wrapped his arm around her waist. Mia didn’t find anything funny though she let him lead her away from the door and toward the couch. Bare feet padded along as she waited for Tom to say anything.

“I mean it Tom, don’t buy her a pony.”

“I’m not going to buy her a pony.” Tom said as he sat down on the couch. He made an effort to pull her down with him but she stood ridged. “What’s wrong.”

“Tom, I am her mother.”

“I know that.”

“Then do not make birthday plans or promises or anything without clearing it with me first.”

“But I-”

“Do you even know if she’s got friends to invite to a pool party? Who would show up? Or the logistics of planning a kid’s birthday party? I don’t know if they’re done differently in England but they’re a fucking nightmare here.”

“I’m sorry, I-”

“We don’t have anyone to invite. Let alone on short notice. Do not put some grand party ideas in her head when I can’t deliver on that and even if you can, who’s to say if I can next year. Or the year after. She is my daughter and we have our ways of doing things.”

“Okay.” Tom raised his hands up in submission. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I got excited is all.”

“Good.” Mia didn’t know what else to say. She was still angry, she’d spent most of her shift fuming about it and worrying about what other promises are being made without her being there to intercept it. “Good.”

“What can I do to fix it?” Tom tugged at her hand, urging her to sit with him.

“Just keep it small. And ask first.”

He noticed then that she was still wearing the short cocktail dress that was her uniform. Her legs were on full display. She wasn’t particularly tall however the length of the skirt did wonders at highlighting the length and shape of her legs. “Why haven’t you changed yet?”

“I was distracted.”

“By your need to yell at me?” Tom joked.

“Yes.” She huffed.

“Go change. Then you can yell at me more from something more comfortable, if you want.”

~~~~~<3

Mia changed out of the reveling dress in the closet with the door shut behind her. It was silly, they were married and yet she she was still shy around him. He was a attractive man who could have and did have actresses and she was everyday normal.

She slipped on a pair of athletic shorts that were used for sleep far more than they were used for working out. It was just a matter of time before her metabolism came crashing down and she’d have to start working out or learn to again love, well- like, her changing body.

For now, walking miles on the casino floor in four inch heels and skipping her mid shift meal to avoid the bloat in the dress worked together to keep her weight within what she felt was acceptable.

Just because she thought it was acceptable didn’t mean she was ready to expose a sober Tom to every little bulge, sag and stretch mark that came with having grown a child. She’d seen pictures of the woman he had dated before her, she was too weak to resist looking. She was fit and trim and tall and fucking beautiful.

That was the sort of woman men like Tom looked good with. They were the kind of women men like Tom liked. They belonged on red carpets and in magazines.

Mia threw out her insecurities as best she could while she threw her bra in the hamper. She hated the feeling of taking it off. It did a great job of supporting her breasts that had never really recovered from a near year of breastfeeding. She had no other way to explain it but that they felt deflated, empty but with a good bra, they were pretty damn nice still.

She slipped on a oversized Tshirt and pulled her largely deflated curls into a messy pony tail. With a overnight shift coming up tomorrow, she had enlisted Tom to help keep her awake so that she’d sleep in.

~~~~~<3

Tom folded over her as she ran her fingers up his chest, taking in the feeling of his muscles as they moved. His head swam as he took her nipple into his mouth again. Tugging, pulling and licking, he teased delicate moans from her throat.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered as he kissed his way up to her neck.

Her back arched under him as he ran his fingers up and down her sides. Each breath she took caused her nipples to brush against his chest.

“I want you.” She pleaded as she blindly worked his buckle open. “Please.”

She was like an animal pawing to get to some vital resource. It took far longer than she wanted to get the belt free. Tom grew impatient and uncomfortable with waiting and yanked it free himself.

As he tossed it behind him, she palmed him through his pants. She moaned at the feeling and it would be a lie to say he didn’t take satisfaction in that. He wasn’t a poorly endowed man by any means, he knew that but having a woman moan at the feel alone was a great complement.

“Please.” Oh, he liked hearing her beg for him.

He also liked the feeling of her fingers wrapping around him. He hadn’t noticed when she had gotten his trousers unbuttoned, let alone unzipped but good god, her fingers felt good wrapped around his shaft.

“Let me get these off.”

~~~~~<3~~~~~<3

Tag List: @winterisakiller @alexakeyloveloki @jennyggggrrr @dangertoozmanykids101 @tilltheendwilliwrite @tinchentitri @wizardcherryblossom @kats72 @buttercupcookies-blog @violethaze @soulpiercing @evedia @princess-ofthe-pages

#tom hiddleston x ofc #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x oc #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x original character #Tom hiddleston x original female character #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fanfic

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moonstruck-poet · 5 months

Text

His Brave Girl

Pairing - Tom Hiddleston x reader!

Summary - You are a NCA Investigator and have an ongoing case to rescue women and children that have been kept captive. The mission of course isn't as easy and can also prove to be life threatening. But with an incredibly supportive husband and a strong team, it doesn't seem all that impossible.

Warnings - blood, fighting, curse words, assault and harassment, mentions of death.

This was a light introduction to the story, things will surely get interesting soon. Hope you like it <33

The elevator dinged as the doors opened and you heaved a sigh before getting in and leaning your back against the wall, eyes closing briefly due to exhaustion.

"Does this thing get slower every day?" You muttered to yourself after getting off and pulled out the keys from your pocket while also holding the stack of papers in one hand.

You walked inside, placing the key in its usual place and dumping the sheets on the dining table with a loud thump.

"A new case then I take it?" Tom entered the living room, a small smile on his face on seeing you as he walked closer.

"Yeah," you couldn't help but smile yourself upon seeing his homely appearance. "Missed you today, love".

"Ditto darling," he whispered and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close against his chest and breathing out heavily. "God was it tiring today," his face turned down a fraction before you kissed that frown off, making his lips twitch.

"It's okay," you murmured in his ear and played with the strands of hair on his neck, "I'm so proud of you".

He merely tightened his hold, glad that you had understood him so easily. No wonder he had known you were the one from the minute your relationship bloomed.

"Is it okay if we go out for dinner? I wanna take a walk with you," he pulled back, hands still on your waist as he stared into your eyes.

"Of course, Tom. Let me just get freshened up and we'll leave immediately," you kissed his cheek to quickly go and wash.

After a quick but soothing warm shower, you decided to wear a simple pair of black skinny jeans and a beige button down. Tying your hair in a ponytail and putting your phone in your back pocket you were ready to leave.

"Let's go then," you switched off the lights, him smiling appreciatively at your simple outfit as you two walked out, locking the door and then entwining your hands.

"Why didn't you put on a jacket? It's cold," he said the minute you stepped out in the dark.

"It's fine, Tom," you replied and he took your tangled fingers, placing them in the front pocket of his coat making you laugh. "So what's the current mood? Chinese or Indian?"

"Indian," the two of you said simultaneously and grinned at each other.

"I think you're starting to rub off on me," he chuckled and squeezed your hand. "My spice tolerance is quite high now".

"That's a pro of marrying an Asian, and especially an Indian, my dear," you said happily, swinging your hands like a child.

You entered the cozy Indian restaurant and ordered some starters, wanting a quick bite before moving on to the main course.

"What's the recent case about then, love?" He questioned, adding quite an amount of the spicy green chutney to his dish making you smirk.

"Oh recently we got the news that about 30 females, both girls and women have been abducted right from the streets, probably for slavery. So we gotta track those motherfuckers and play tit for tat," you said and he noticed your jaw clench with anger.

While Tom's heart sank. He was used to hearing such cases every other day, especially since his own wife was a crime investigator but it hurt him every damn time.

"Don't worry," you took his hand in your own, rubbing circles on the back. "We're gonna rescue them, every single one of them".

"I know you will. But still it just hurts, to know that every three days, somewhere in this country a woman dies, all because of violence. How do people even think of committing such sins, such atrocities?! The humanity is dying and it feels like nobody even cares anymore".

You pressed your lips together sympathetically, agreeing with every statement of his and just being so glad that you had such a passionate husband.

"I'm gonna do my best, we're gonna catch all of them and make them suffer," you said firmly and he nodded.

"I'm there with you through every step of the way," he said softly making you simply stare at his beautiful face before smiling widely.

The rest of the dinner was quite peaceful, with only small talks made here and there as you both actually enjoyed the silence.

"Ice cream?" He asked immediately once you stepped out of the restaurant.

"Sure," you laughed at his excited face and wrapped an arm around his torso and him swiftly pulling you close by the shoulders and pressing a kiss on your head.

You two were chatting, about his work, about your work. The past week had been quite busy. What with you attending meetings about the recent case and him shooting endlessly for the Night Manager.

"I really can't wait to see you all decked up in a suit on the big screen," you grinned, all giddy inside while he let out a noise of surprise.

"But you've seen me in a suit numerous times, that too right in front of your own eyes," he raised an eyebrow.

"You don't know the magic you show on the screen, Hiddleston. It makes me go insane," you said, turning a little red making him chuckle as he too blushed.

A sudden shout interrupted his next comment and you two stopped, frowning at each other before finding the source.

"Oh shit," you muttered and his eyes widened at the scene in front of him. There was a man, forcing his way on a young lady who looked no more than 20 years of age.

"Come on sweetheart," the creep said, a sinister smirk on his face as he pressed his forehead against her's, making her thrash uncomfortably.

A furious rage built up inside of you as you saw random citizens watching the scene with interest and not bothering to move a muscle.

And immediately your footsteps quickened as you almost sprinted forwards with Tom hit on your heels.

"Hold this," you pressed your phone into his hand and before he could utter another word, you had pulled your sleeves to your elbows and ripped the man off of the girl.

"Get away from her, asshole," you said, your voice deep and cold and your husband felt himself freeze upon seeing you in action.

"Uh yeah? And who the fuck are you to tell me to get off?" He said coyly. "You're a fiesty one, yeah? I like those type," he said and stepped closer daringly.

Tom had never before felt such violence inside him but he held himself, knowing you had the situation under control. You wouldn't want him to get in trouble, whereas you, you had legal permission.

"And I like catching people like you," you retorted, smirking and within a few seconds you had pinned him on the ground, your knee pressed to his chest as you lounged on him casually.

"You done now? Cuz me and my husband would really like to get some ice cream," your eyes narrowed and he groaned when you pressed down hard.

"You okay?" Tom went to the terrified young lady while also maintaining a respectful distance, knowing she must be scared.

She couldn't fathom anything and was shaking violently while he watched helplessly, not wanting to cross any boundaries at all.

So he resorted to words, "You're safe now, don't worry at all. My wife-" he gestured towards you, halting midway after noticing the criminal's awfully bleeding nose and your deathly expression and grimacing slightly.

"Um are you alright? Did he hurt you anywhere?" He asked again gently once she had calmed down.

"N- No he didn't," she shook her head and fixed her rumpled clothing. "You- You were just in time, thank you so much".

"Hey no, there's nothing to thank about," he smiled and they noticed a police car coming closer.

"There comes your ride," you said and pulled the grunting man to his feet. Your face shining with sweat and slight blood coating your right cheek.

"Goodness love," Tom muttered, wincing at his terrible state but looking hella proud at the same time.

"Aaron," you greeted your friend cheerfully, "A new parcel for you mate. You're welcome," you added when he raised his eyebrows at the assaulter's bloody face.

"Let's get going then, bastard," Aaron gripped him tighter and offered you a full salute and you nodded.

"One last thing," you said and stepped back making the others stare warily except for the officer who didn't bat an eye as you delivered a perfect side kick, breaking the man's jaw.

Aaron laughed as he turned towards Tom who had adorned an expression of shock, "Be careful there, I wouldn't want to get on her bad side. This one can really pack a kick".

"Wouldn't dream of it," your husband chuckled lightly making you roll your eyes as the man was dragged inside the car and off they went.

You finally turned to look at the still shivering but composed girl, "You okay darling?"

She didn't say anything and fell into your arms, her being considerably shorter compared to your rather tall figure. "T- Thank you," tears flowed down her cheeks. "I was so sure I was going to die right there".

"Hey," you said and rubbed her back with your left hand that was not stained with blood. "You're safe now though aren't you? That's all that matters".

She backed off, still sobbing and wiped her tears, looking at you with such gratitude that you yourself could feel your throat burning.

"Do you live close by?" You asked and when she nodded you offered to drive her home, knowing her mental state was sensitive.

"Here's my official card, I'm a NCA Investigator so you're safe with me," she nodded and you were glad to do so, wanting her to feel as secure as possible.

"Come on," Tom guided her softly and opened the back door as she got in and he seated himself in the passenger seat.

It took about five minutes to reach her home and you parked the car in the driveway, both of you getting away and stopping after noticing that Sofia hadn't even opened her door.

"Hey," he knocked on her window and she jumped, snapping out of her thoughts and got off upon noticing that she was home.

He went ahead and ringed the bell and was greeted by a warm middle aged woman who smiled but her expression soon turned shaky after taking in the state of her daughter and she shouted for her husband.

"Oh my darling," the father gasped and took his girl in his arms and she started crying again, emotions flowing out uncontrollably.

The two of you watched in silence, your hearts breaking at the exchange and praying to god for keeping everyone suffering through such horrible experiences safe.

"How can we ever thank you," the old lady walked towards you and took your hand in hers, silent tears running down her cheeks. "You saved my daughter's life. How can I possibly repay-"

"No no don't say such things," Tom interrupted her, embracing the woman and you noticed tears staining his face too making your heart clench.

"But really, thank you, both of you," Sofia's father said and pulled Tom in a hug and shook your hand.

"She's safe, and that's all that matters," you said softly before handing them a card. "This is a helpline number that works 24/7, just give a missed call whenever you feel threatened, though god forbid something would happen again".

The woman stepped closer to you and cupped your cheeks motherly making you stutter, "And you, take care of yourself, look after you wife," she adressed Tom who nodded with a smile. "You're out there putting your life in danger for the sake of others, but be mindful of your own too".

"Y- Yeah, I will," you swallowed the emotions and gave them a professional salute and a low bow before taking their leave.

The walk to the car and then the drive home was passed in complete silence, both understanding that it was a need.

Tom only switched on the dim, yellow lights, bathing the room in a warm glow before turning to look at you properly.

"Love?" He asked softly, standing in front of you and placing his palm on your cheek. "You're okay, aren't you?" His eyes scanned yours, eyebrows drawing in closer in worry.

"Yes, I'm okay. I deal with this pretty much everyday, you know".

"You've hurt yourself," he looked at your badly bruised knuckles as he examined them.

"I handle such things everyday too".

"But that doesn't mean it hurts less," he said simply and you nodded. "Carrying a certain weight every single day does not mean that it's not heavy".

"You're right".

"Oh c'mere," he opened his arms amd you fell into them gratefully, inhaling his familiar scent and trying to take to focus your mind. "You said to me earlier that you were proud of me. But honestly, my work doesn't even come close to yours. It's me who's really damn proud to call this wonderful, strong and brave woman; my wife".

"Yeah?" You looked at him with glistening eyes, pressing your lips together.

"Yes. Not everybody can even fathom the work you're doing. I'm your husband for God's sake amd know all about what you do. And yet you saw it for yourself how terrified I was in that situation".

"You are amazing, the most brilliant woman I've met and goodness am I so, so proud of you, my love," he touched his lips to your forehead tenderly. "I already love you more than anything, but somehow you made me fall even harder".

"I love you too," you whispered and buried yourself right in his embrace.

===============================

Taglist :-

@thedesibitch

@herdetectivetheorist

@chronicallybubbly

#fanfiction #tom hiddleston x wife reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston ff #tom hiddleston fanfiction #female oc #strong female oc #soldier oc #girl power #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston comfort #loki #night manager

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homeofthelonelywriter · 1 month

Text

Celebs - Masterlist

Tom Hiddleston:

Series:

Take the Stage: While once again sneaking out of the Palace, you meet an actor...let’s just say there is something between you two. (Royal! Reader)

Romeo to my Juliet: You are a student and a teacher at a college in Lodon, which is the same place a very handsome acting professor is employed. - discontinued

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

New Beginning:

(Part 1) | Part 2 | Part 3

Headcanons:

HC - Tom Hiddleston x clumsy!Reader

HC - Tom helps Reader deal with anxiety and stress

HC - Tom loves Reader’s boobs

Oneshots:

Forgotten Fears - The Reader had some bad experiences with her ex-boyfriend when he was drunk and is still traumatised by that. What happens when Tom forgets about that fear of hers?

Kinky Surprise - pure smut

Application - When you loose a bet, you are forced to send an application for Loki’s love interest. Who would have thought that they actually want to meet you?

Jealousy - Tom is insecure because of your age gap. What will happen when he sees you with one of your co-workers who is about your age?

Hidden - As an artist, you find a way to tell Tom that you’re pregnant

Bun in the oven - Pregnany reveal and a proposal. What could go wrong?

Drunken Start - After a night out with his buddies, Tom calls you, neither rembering you, nor how he got your number

Trick or Treat - Halloween Special

Best boyfriend in the world - You have trouble sleeping, so Tom decides to help you out

Dance with me - Reader and Tom slow-dance in Paris

Diary - Tom finds your diary while you’re moving and reads it

Drabbles:

Christmas Surprise - Christmas Drabble

Let it snow! - Christmas Drabble

Drabble #75

Drabble #3

Imagines:

Imagine while on vacation with your BFF you catch Tom Hiddleston during a photoshoot. Your BFF makes sure he remembers you.

Imagine tagging Tom Hiddleston in a meme and actually getting a reaction.Imagine working on the set of Avengers and instantly crushing on Tom Hiddleston. You are devastated when you find out your BFF Taylor is now dating him.

Benedict Cumberbatch:

Drabbles:

Drabble #69

Sebastian Stan:

Drabbles:

Drabble #46

Shawn Mendes:

Series:

Better that way: When Shawn’s girlfriend finds out that she is pregnant, she decides that she can’t burden the superstar with a child. She makes decisions which may seem stupid, but she knows that it’s Better that way.

Surprise: Walking a Victorias Secret show was an honour already, but being able to see your boyfriend while doing so? Pure bliss. Especially when he has a little surprise for you.

Part 1 | Part 2

Fan Mail: Writing to Shawn every so often paid off when he asked you to come to one of his shows.

Part 1 | Part 2

Oneshots:

When you’re ready - Inspired by his song

Guard my heart - You are a part of the security at one of Shawn’s shows and he notices you

Nervous - Inspired by his song

One more chance - Filming an explanation video why Shawn and you broke up, leads to some interesting realisations

In my Blood - Inspired by his song (Triggers)

Late Late Show - You are present during your boyfriend’s appearance on the Late Late Show with James Cordan. Let’s just say it was disgusting.

Sad song - Shawn finds out you can sing during a very sad occasion

Tom Holland:

Migraine - rl!friend has a Migraine and Tom wants and tries to comfort her

Back to the Master-Masterlist

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x reader #benedict cumberbatch fanfiction #shawn mendes #shawn mendes x reader #shawn mendes fanfiction #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #fanfiction masterlist

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simping-for-marvel · 1 year

Text

~Birthday boy

Type: Oneshot

Pairing: Tom hiddleston x wife!reader

Summary: Tom gets a huge surprise on his birthday by his beloved wife that leads him to cry.

A/n: This is for Tom's birthday!! I hope you like it :) Its our beloved man's birthday🥺

Yn's pov-

buzz buzz.

I jolt up from my sleep as I hear my phone vibrate on the night stand. I look over to my left but there was no sight of Tom. He must have gone for a run. I thought. I sit up straight and see that Tom was calling me. It is his birthday today. I quickly slide the green button on the screen and hold my phone near my ear.

"Hello darling." He purred, sending literal chills down my spine.

"Morning Tommy. Where are you?"I ask

"That's what I called you for love. This morning I got an urgent call from the director that I've to go for shooting today. So I'll be back in the evening." He replies

My smile drops when he mentions he has to go for shooting. I had so much things planned for today. His birthday. But everything is ruined. I almost start to cry-

"Y/n?" Tom speaks again

"Y-yeah?" I reply holding in my tears.

"Everything alright love?"

"Tom, it's your birthday today. I had planned so many things for you." I say almost in a whisper. I hear him release a deep sigh.

"Darling... I'm so glad that you had things planned for me but I'll try my best to be back by early evening and then we can spend time together. You know probably.... have some fun." I almost laugh when he mentions the 'fun' part and I hear him chuckle from the other side.

"Sure Mr. Hiddleston." I say with a grin plastered on my face.

"I look forward to it Mrs. Hiddleston. I've to go now love. I'll see you soon yeah?"

"Yes... and Tom-"

"Yes hun?"

"Happiest Birthday my love." I wish him blush all over my cheeks.

"Thank you so much darling. I'll be waiting for my present when I get home." He says, again making me laugh.

"Oh yes Tom. Take care."

"You too..." I glance at my phone and decline the call. I can't stay at home all day and waste my time while it is the birthday of the love of my life. He has done so much for me that I'm grateful for. Now it's my turn. A little surprise would be fun and it can't be possible with the help of Chris. So I call him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tom's pov-

I walk in my trailer, finally completing my scenes that needed to be done. But all the lights were turned off. Even after trying to on the lights, they were just not working.

Boom!

I jump when I see party busters being popped all around me and all the crew members and even co-actors jump up from behind the couch and tables, I also notice... yn.

"YN!!!" I squeal in excitement and run towards her scooping her in my arms. I instantly inhale her scent. Her sweet laughter ringing in my ears.

Yn pov-

His warmth instantly flows through me. I wish this moment never ends, but sadly it has to. Tom finally let's go of me and he looks so happy, so joyful.

"Happiest birthday Tommy" I wish and learn in to give him a peck on his lips. I see Chris and everyone slowly coming and wishing Tom, wishing him the best with warm hugs. After all the greetings Tom comes up to me.

"Darling this was a wonderful surprise!" He exclaims.

"Oh there is one more surprise for you dearest. Shall we cut the cake?"

He nods with a wide grin. He loves cakes so much just like a child. We walk towards the table were sat the cake and a birthday card. The surprise. At first he looked at me with confusion but when he opened the card and read the message "Happy birthday Daddy!" His expression changed.

"Yn... a-are you..?" He asked, tears in his blur eyes which made me tear up too. I was only able to nod, being at loss of words.

There was a moment of silence but then it hit him.

"I-I'm to be a-a father... IM GOING TO BE A FATHER OH MY GOD" he instantly scoops me in his arms. I highly him back as tightly as I could. When we pull away we both are a crying mess. In a good way. He wipes my tears and plant his lips on mine. When we pull away I say,

"I can't wait to give a life to our child, Tom"

"I can't wait to see your belly swollen with my child." I chuckle at his reply.

He states, "This was the best birthday gift ever."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Sorry for any typos!)

Tags: @holdmytesseract @michelleleewise @lokisgoodgirl @fictive-sl0th @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @mygfloki @ozymdias @mjsthrillernp @mukagentropy @lady-rose-moon @mochie85 @buttercupcookies-blog @kikster606 @huntress-artemiss

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston birthday #tom hiddleston x wife!reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #loki #tom hiddleston fluff #marvel #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddleston x reader

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pawnshopbleus · 10 months

Text

Put Me in a Movie - Chapter Thirteen

Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

Summary - You’re a famous actress and he’s one of the greatest directors of all time. What happens when you get cast in his new movie?

Chapter Twelve

Two weeks have gone by and dating Miguel felt like heaven. He was a family man. He always put his family first, especially his daughter. Gabriella was the light of his life and you were a close second. You were okay with that though, nothing could be more important than the bond between a parent and a child.

Today, you had a date with Miguel. It was nothing fancy, just brunch at a new underground restaurant that just opened in Los Angeles. This would be your first public appearance as a couple. To say that you were nervous would be an understatement.

Stella told you that this would be risky considering that Jessica still had some die-hard fans. No matter how much Jessica would defend you, some of them would still hate you.

You were wearing a casual top and a white pleated tennis skirt. It’s what Miguel told you to wear. He didn’t want to draw too much attention to you. He wanted this to be as intimate as possible.

There was a knock at your door and some barking that followed. Miguel was dropping off Fern after she had a sleepover with Gabriella. He was also here to take you out on your date. Even though he told you to dress casually, you still tried to look your best.

You opened the door and saw Miguel standing there with a dog in one arm and beautiful pink roses in the other.

“Oh, Miguel, you didn’t have to,” you smiled softly at him. Your heart was melting at the fact that he was gentlemanly enough to get you a gift. Fern wiggled from his arms and jumped into the threshold of your home. “Do you want to come in?”

“Please,” Miguel kissed your cheek as he walked into your home. “Is there somewhere you want me to put this?”

“Just give them to me and I’ll put them in a vase.” You walked over to one of your cabinets and grabbed a pretty green vase that used to be Princess Diana’s that you won in an auction. It’s one of your most prized possessions to date.

“You ready?” Miguel asked as he rubbed the back of his neck.

The water was still running as you tried to process the question. You really liked Miguel and you were willing to do anything as long as they didn’t push your boundaries. Sometimes, the fans could be brutal to the partners of their celebrity crushes. Miguel had a lot of fan girls, you used to be one of them, but never to that extreme. For example, people call Zawe Ashton, a great actress, Tom Hiddleston's soon-to-be wife, and the mother of his child, ‘ugly and not good enough for Tom’ even though Zawe is a beautiful woman who doesn’t deserve the hate.

“I think I can handle it.” You run off the tap when the water gets halfway full in the vase. You put the vase on the table and cut the roses diagonally at the bottom and put them into the vase.

“If it gets too much just tell me, mi linda princesa.” He took your head in his hands and leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “Now, we need to go. Turns out the place needed reservations and we have one for two thirty.”

The drive to the restaurant was hot and not in a steamy way. You loved living in California, it was definitely better than living in your small town in the middle of nowhere, but sometimes the heat could get unbearable. You were lucky though, you were sure the people in Arizona would trade the heat any day.

Someone must have tipped off the paparazzi that you and Miguel were going to be there today because when you arrived at the restaurant, there were at least five paparazzo's there. What year were you guys in? 2005?

“If you want, I can get out and open your door for you,” Miguel said as soon as he parked the car in one of the closest available spots.

You made eye contact with one of the paparazzi and rolled your eyes as he pointed his camera at Miguel’s car. You shook your head, “It’s fine. I’m a big girl. I can do this” “Alright.” Miguel got out of the car and waited for you on the hood of his car. Flashes and flashes of lights and clicks of the camera sounded as soon as Miguel exited the car. You knew that he would look good in the pictures. He always looks good.

Miguel pushed through the crowd that was starting to form in the front of the restaurant as you trailed behind him.

“O’Hara for two,” Miguel told the hostess at the front of the restaurant.

The hostess ushered you to a secluded room in the back of the restaurant. The lighting was dim, there were candles on the table which gave the room a waxy smell and more lighting, and there was a tablecloth that covered the entire table and fell to the floor. A person could hide under the table and no one would ever know.

“Let me know if you need anything.” The hostess said as she placed the menus on the table. She lingered for a second longer than needed to look into Miguel’s eyes. You really wanted to be a girl’s girl, but sometimes girls made it too hard.

“What are you going to get?”

“I don’t know, the steak and eggs look good, but I’m deciding between two options right now.” Miguel subtly bit his lip.

“And they are?”

“The steak and eggs or you.” “You want to eat me? Who are you? Armie Hammer?” You tried to steer the situation into something more humorous, but that didn’t quench his undeniable thirst for you.

“I’ll stop if you want me to, but I want you and I want to show you how much you mean to me.”

“Here?” You asked and he nodded his head. You looked around the room and spotted two security cameras pointing at the two of you. “But there are cameras.”

“I paid for them to be off today. No one will see, I promise.”

“Okay,” you squeaked out.

You didn’t know what he meant by when he said that he needed you, but when you saw him sink to his knees and crawl under the table you knew. Maybe this is why he wanted you to wear a skirt today.

He slowly spreads your thighs apart as his mouth trailed kisses down your thighs. “Are you sure you want this?” Miguel’s voice came out a bit muffled due to him being under a table that was covered by a tablecloth. You nodded your head and then you realized that he couldn’t see you so you said, “Yes.”

He kissed you through your panties. You could feel yourself getting wetter with each touch of his lips on your clothed pussy. Miguel’s fingers hooked onto the waistband of your panties and slowly lowered them revealing your pussy to him. Miguel nearly groaned in delight as he saw that your body was reacting to him.

His middle finger caressed its way up and down your slit, spreading your wetness. Miguel’s mouth soon found its way to your clit, gently sucking it in his mouth. Your hips bucked in pleasure as your body reacted to the gift Miguel was giving you.

Then, the same hostess came into the room, asking if the two of you needed anything. She noticed that Miguel was gone and decided to bring that up. Little did she know that he was currently on his knees eating you out like no one has before.

You tried your best to compose yourself as Miguel didn’t stop attacking your cunt with his skilled tongue. “He went to the bathroom,” you lied. You nearly panted that out as Miguel licked a long stripe from your hole all the way up to your sensitive clit.

The hostess asked you if you needed water or anything. That was nice of her considering that usually waiters were the ones to get the guests their beverages and food. “I’m fine,” you said as you politely smiled at the hostess.

“Yea, so is your friend. Do you think I could get his number?” The hostess sat in Miguel's seat and put her chin on the back of her hand. Miguel thought that it was a great time to insert two of his precious fingers into you while he continued to lap at your clit. Everything was becoming too overwhelming. Miguel eating you out under the table and this girl obviously trying to steal your boyfriend. It’s no wonder that she didn’t notice what was going on under the table considering that you couldn’t sit still.

You were close. You could feel it and so could Miguel. “He’s my,” a moan slipped out as Miguel continued his assault on your sensitive pussy. You tried your best to cover it up with a cough, “He’s my boyfriend.”

The hostess’s face dropped. She displayed severe disappointment but she didn’t leave. “By the way, why were those people taking pictures of you and your boyfriend earlier?”

“I act and stuff,” you breathed out. All you wanted was for this seemingly nice girl to leave so that you could come in peace.

“Oh, I know you were in that one movie!” The hostess slammed her hands down on the table causing Miguel to hit his head in surprise. Luckily, the hostess didn’t hear it. “Do you think we could get a picture together?”

“Look,” you looked at the hostess’s name tag. Emma was her name. “Emma, I mean this in the nicest way possible, could you please leave?”

Her face dropped with disappointment yet again. You promised her you would take a picture with her on your way out. Now that she was gone, your thighs nearly squeezed Miguel’s head off as they closed on instinct. He spread them open again and kept them in place, causing him to hit a new angle.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” you said as you threaded your fingers through Miguel’s hair. Your breath hitched for a moment before your body fell into an earth-shattering orgasm.

Miguel’s hand made an appearance and began looking for a napkin. He eventually found one and began to clean you up. He put your underwear back on you and climbed out from under the table.

Your head fell back in the aftershocks of pleasure. He wiped his mouth, getting rid of the stains of your arousal. Just as you were about to thank him for his random act of kindness, the waiter came in.

“Hello, my name is Ben, I’ll be your waiter today, what can I get for the two of you?”

Miguel ordered first, “Yes, I’ll get water and the steak and eggs.”

Chapter Fourteen

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x female reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x reader #fan fiction

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holdmytesseract · 2 years

Text

The Sandwich Incident

Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Request: "Congrats on hitting the 500!!! :D :D

Let's see...I'm going to give you some prompts and let YOU pick the character! Switch it up a bit. :)

Prompts: - A sandwich - Reader has red hair - "I can't wait to regret this in the morning, dear."" - Requested by @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 ! 😄

Summary: You got quite a bit drunk at the afterparty of the premier of Loki Season One, causing a sandwich incident to happen...

Warnings: fluff, mentions of alcohol, this is actually very funny

Word Count: 1,2k

a/n: Ahhh, this was SO much fun to write! Thanks for giving me those great prompts @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 ! I loved the challenge! I hope you like it! 😁 Hope it's okay that I chose Tom himself... 😊

Tagging: @lokisgoodgirl @lovingchoices14 @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @acefeather2002 @lulubelle814 @vbecker10 @fictive-sl0th

If you want to be added to my Tom Taglist, please let me know! 😄

"Oh gods..." You giggled, while literally stumbling down the stairs of the fancy bar. "I think I wasn't that tipsy in a loooong ti- woah!" Your feet suddenly weren't able to work correctly anymore, causing you to stumble. You would've fallen down the last few steps, if two strong arms around your middle wouldn't have prevent you from doing exactly that. "Careful, darling." The voice of your beloved boyfriend announced behind you with a teeny-tiny chuckle. He pulled you against his chest and held you secure. You just broke out in another fit of giggles. "Thank you, Tommy."

It had been the evening of the premier of the Loki series - season one, here in London. And well, the afterparty had been... let's say wild...

"Of course, darling. Wouldn't want you to fall, would I?" You beamed up at your infamous boyfriend, smirking smugly. You started to ran your hands up and down his suit clad chest, up to his broad shoulders and strong arms. "Sometimes I forget how strong you are, babe." You giggled again, "My strong, strong handsome man." and wiggled your eyebrows, trying to look seductive. Tom just shook his head and smiled lovingly at you. "Darling, I think you are not just tipsy. Come on, I'll take you home." He placed a soft kiss on top of your head, which was covered in a wild mane of almost untamable ginger curls, before he gently swept you off your feet and carried you down the last few stairs - what you commented with even more giggles. "Yes! Take me home, cowboy!" You practically purred, causing the British gentleman to blush. Tom knew, of course, how you acted when you were tipsy - or well, drunk, so he just played along. "That's what I intend to do. Come on, love." He gently let you down again, but wrapped his arm securely around you, steadying you.

Luckily, the bar you had been in wasn't that far away from your London home. And therefore, that you two took the back entrance of the bar on your way out, Tom didn't have to deal with paparazzi's. A thing the actor was very glad about this evening.

Giggling, you stumbled through the main door of yours and Tom's shared home, pulling him with you. Being the gentleman he was, he helped you out of your black heels, with you almost toppling over and falling on top of him, but again, he 'rescued' you. "Babe, you truly are my hero tonight!" You slurred and smirked at him, biting your lip. "I thought I am always your hero?" You giggled, "You are, but tonight especially." and leaned over to kiss the top of his nose. Tom just sighed with a smile and led you into your shared bathroom to help you peel off your tight dress and change you into your pyjama - something your drunk self didn't quite appreciate...

"Nooooo." You whined like a small child, pouting, as your boyfriend tried to slip the soft, cosy pyjama top over your head. Tom pulled back, frowning. "Why? What's wrong, darling?" "Don' want that... Want you." Tom was slightly confused. "Me?" You nodded, "Uh.Huh." and started to clumsily peel off Tom's loosened tie and white button up. Now he understood. "You want to wear my shirt tonight, love?" "Mhh." You slurred, trying to undo the buttons, but didn't quite make it. "Wanna feel you close." Tom smiled at your sweet words and gently took your hands in his and removed them from the white fabric of his shirt, before he unbuttoned the piece of clothing himself. As soon as he shrugged it down his shoulders, you made grabby hands at him, reaching for the shirt. Tom helped you slip into it. "Better, sweetheart?" You nodded, still beaming at him. "Perfect. Now let's get you to bed, yes?" "Mhmm." He helped you stand and wanted to guide you towards the bedroom, but you had other plans... You wrapped your hands around his neck and pressed your body against his bare chest. "Carry me?" You looked up at him with the biggest puppy eyes Tom had ever seen. "Pleaseeeee!" He gave, of course, in, "Alright, come on." and picked you up to carry you once again. A happy giggle left your lips and you gave him a sloppy kiss on his clean shaved cheek. When Tom had reached the bedroom, he tucked you in and made sure to switch off all the lights, before he joined you. He pulled you against his chest and cuddled you close to him. "Good night, my love." "Mhhh, night, babe." Tom placed another kiss on top of your head and closed his eyes, trying to sleep.

The bedroom was silent for a long moment, but then... "Baaaabe?" You whispered into the darkness, causing Tom to snap out of his doze. "What is it, darling? Is everything alright?" The Brit was shortly worried that the amount of alcohol you had consumed caused you to feel sick or dizzy, but that wasn't the case... "M hungry." He blinked. "You are hungry?" "Uh.Huh... Can I have a sandwich?" "You want to have a sandwich? Now?" "Yes, ehehe." Tom sighed deeply, but turned around to switch on his bedside lamp, knowing very well, that you wouldn't go to sleep without having something to eat. "I am going to make you a sandwich, okay?" He would do everything for you, anyway. Even make your drunk self a sandwich in the middle of the night. After all, you were the love of his life. You nodded excitedly, with a big smile on your face. Tom threw the blanket aside and stood up. "Any special wishes, milady?" You giggled at Tom's sublime language, before tapping your chin in a thinking manner. "I waaaaant... Toast... Butter... Jam... Aaaand pickles." The man frowned in disgust and... shock? "Beg your pardon, my love... You want what? Jam and pickles??" You giggled, nodding. Tom blinked. "You, uh... You are not pregnant, are you?" He had to ask, didn't he? You shook your head, still giggling. "Noooo, babe..." Tom lifted an eyebrow, sceptically. Sure, you were not exactly yourself right now, but nevertheless, he had to make sure, right? "Are you... sure?" "Mhhh... Jus' drunk." Tom shook his head and just decided to leave it like that. "Alright, darling... I'll be right back." Then he left you and went to the kitchen to make the sandwich you requested.

Ten minutes later, he witnessed with disgust, how you devoured the jam and pickles packed sandwich, like it was some kind of delicacy. "I can't wait for you to regret this in the morning, dear." You eagerly shook your head. "Nuh.Uh. 'M not gonna regret this, babe." You stated, while still munching on the sandwich. Tom just shook his head, giving you a lopsided grin.

Needless to say, Tom had been right... You did, in fact, regret it. Especially, as you were leaning over the toilet, emptying your stomach of the sandwich - and alcohol. The only thing which made this unpleasant situation you were in better, was your doting boyfriend, who rubbed small, comforting circles in your back and held your hair back.

#tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x fem!reader #tom hiddleston one shot

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hemsworthandhiddleston · 8 months

Text

Baby Love - Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Fandom: Tom Hiddleston

Warnings: Fluffy fluff

Rating: PG

Summary: Tom and his wife welcome their baby girl into the world.

Tom shut the door of his home and pulled off his wet coat. The rainstorm had come in unexpectedly and he was forced to run from the car without an umbrella. After hanging his coat on the rack, he ran his fingers through his wet hair as he walked further into the house.

"Y/N!" He called, "where are you?"

He was met with silence as he entered the kitchen. He figured he would have found her at the counter making their dinner. He hadn't been expecting her to be cooking but often, she was making dinner when he came home. He loved coming home to the wonderful fragrances of whatever she was preparing. So, when he didn't find her, he had to admit he was slightly disappointed. Tom left the kitchen and stopped in the living room. From where he stood, he saw Y/N in their pool. He opened the sliding glass door and stepped onto the patio. Y/N was floating in the water watching the rain hitting the glass of the patio roof, her swollen pregnant belly protruding from the water.

" Y/N."

She moved so she was standing and turned towards the sound of her husband's voice. Her face lit up when she saw him.

"Baby!"

Tom chuckled, "hi sweetheart. How are you?"

Y/N just shrugged causing him to frown.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she answered quietly.

Tom grabbed her towel and walked to the stairs, "come out so we can talk. I can't help unless I know what's bothering you."

Y/N sighed softly but did as he asked. She held the railing and slowly climbed the three steps. Tom wrapped the towel around her body as best as he could and leaned forward to kiss her.

"What's wrong?"

She waddled her way to the table to sit down.

"I'm a little afraid to tell you."

"What? Why? You can tell me anything."

Y/N sighed softly, "I am so ready for this to be over."

"What?"

"The pregnancy. My back hurts all the time. I'm tired and cranky all the time. I'm as big as a house because all I want to do is eat. I've gained so much weight that," she paused as tears filled her eyes, "I'm afraid you're going to leave me cause I'm so fat."

Tom kneeled in front of her, "no love. That is not true at all. You're not fat. You are pregnant with our child. You are about to give me the most beautiful gift in the world."

Tears slid down Y/N's cheeks at his words. Tom reached out and gently wiped them away. Leaning forward he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her gently.

"I love you very much. If there is anything I can do to make you more comfortable I will."

She shook her head sadly, "I don't really think there is."

"I'm so sorry. It's only two more weeks and then we'll have our beautiful little girl. It'll be worth it in the end, right?"

She gave him a teary smile, "yes it will be."

Tom kissed her again and again, "I'm sorry it's been so difficult."

"It's okay. Some days are harder than others."

"Is there something I should be doing that I'm not?" he asked concerned, "you know I would do anything for you."

"I know you would Tom," she reassured, "There's nothing you haven't done for me or our baby. I mean you took time off from working to make sure we were taken care of. I don't mean to complain so much and I'm sorry I am. I'm just very uncomfortable right now. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. If I could take some of the pain for you, I would but unfortunately."

Y/N laughed and kissed him, "I love you so much."

"I love too darling," he bent and kissed her belly, "I love you too baby girl."

Y/N smiled and kissed him again when he sat back.

"So, when are you going to tell me what you want to name her?"

"Soon," she smiled, "I think you'll really like it."

***

Y/N moved around the kitchen preparing lunch. She had just retrieved a loaf of bread from the bread drawer when a sharp pain shot through her stomach.

"Ahh!" she groaned as she bent over in pain.

She gripped the counter as another pain ripped through her stomach, "Tom! Tom!"

Tom jumped up from his desk chair when he heard his wife screaming his name.

"Y/N!?" he ran down the hallway and down the stairs, "Where are you?"

He was heading for the living room when he heard her scream again. He changed direction quickly and ran into the kitchen.

"What happened?" he asked frantically when he saw her bent over, "What is it darling?"

"Oh god," she groaned, "I'm having contractions. I think I'm in labor."

"Okay. It's okay," he assured, "Let's sit you down."

He moved her to one of the kitchen chairs.

"I'm going to go get your bag."

"Hurry. I'm scared."

"Don't be scared love," Tom kissed her forehead, "it's going to be alright."

An hour later Y/N was situated in a hospital bed while a nurse hooked her up to the heart monitors that would monitor her and the baby's heartbeat.

"How are you doing Y/N?"

She looked up at her husband, "Okay but really scared."

"I know love. But I'm right here with you. We're going to get through this together. Whatever you need, I'm here."

Y/N nodded, "Okay."

Two hours passed and the nurses were wheeling Y/N into a birthing room. She was squeezing the hell of Tom's hand as another contraction hit.

"Breath love. Keep breathing."

***

"How do you think it's going in there?" Elsa asked.

Chris looked at his wife, "I'm sure she's fine. Tom would never let anything happen to his wife." "Look he's coming," she stood from her chair and walked towards Tom, "So?"

Tom smiled, "She's so beautiful. 7 lbs 5 oz. 21" long."

Elsa smiled and hugged him, "Congratulations. I'm so happy for you guys."

"Me too," Chris spoke up and hugged his friend, "We called Y/N's parents. They should be here tomorrow morning."

"Thanks. In all the flurry I didn't even think."

"It's fine," Elsa assured, "We took care of it."

"Thank you so much. I have to get back in there."

"Ok. Let us know when we can see them."

Tom nodded and took off for the delivery room.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, concerned when he saw his wife wasn't holding their daughter.

Y/N gave him a tired smile, "The nurses are cleaning her up."

"Okay mom," one of the nurses carried the baby over and laid her in Y/N's arms, "Take a few minutes and then we'll bring you back to your room."

"Thank you."

Y/N smiled, "You were a part of this you know?" He laughed, "So, what are we naming her?"

"Ophelia."

Tom looked at her surprised, "A Shakespeare name?"

"Yes," Y/N smiled at him, "What do you think?"

"It's perfect," he leaned down and kissed his daughter's head, "Hello Miss Ophelia. I'm your daddy."

Y/N smiled, "I love you."

"I love you too. Always."

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddelston x reader

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smolvenger · 10 months

Text

A Court of Mischief and Purpose, Chapter Four (Loki x fem! Reader, A Court of Thorns and Roses Hiddlesverse AU)

Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters. England. 1885. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him. When the time comes to fulfill your end of the bargain, you are introduced to a world full of more magic and danger than you could possibly imagine...

Content Warnings: LOTS OF ANGST AT THE BEGINNING! Cheating (not Loki, but...* takes a long sip of a fun little drink with a straw*...dealing with Will Ransome's canon actions and portraying them as bad so Will fans and Lusty Vicarettes you have been warned). Y/N going absolutely feral because I support women's wrongs. Hurt/Comfort Elements Period Typical Attitudes. Mentions of sex and religion and drinking. Typical and fixable grammar mistakes.

Chapter Summary: You confront Will about his infidelity.

Chapter Word Count: 6K

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr (special shout out for a suggestion for this chapter that worked well!)

Chapter One//Chapter Two//Chapter Three

There was silence. Pure silence. Will’s jaw unhinged and his mouth opened, but he did not say a word. The last word rang in the air with the heaviness of a bullet being fired.

Whore-Whore-Whore.

You glared at him in his beautiful blue eyes. Feeling everything at once looking at him- hatred and adoration, fury and grief and love.

His eyes glared back. You had done it. You had called Cora a whore. You knew he wouldn’t stand it. You could see him tense up, ready to chastise you for what you did. To stand up for her. You could see it in him, see the words forming. Then his jaw closed. Then he stopped. There was hesitation. You knew he would rush to her defense. And you were ready for a fight. To scold you for what you said- the ugly names you just called his mistress, his real beloved.

But instead, no, what he asked was this in a quiet, calm tone.

“Y/N, why did you call her that?”

A wave of emotion washed over you. You couldn’t take him anymore- playing ignorant. He should know bloody well why you called her that.

Leaning over, in a split second, you raised your hand and slapped him as hard as you could across his face. So hard, you let out a small grunt as you did. It stung from the swift impact of your hand across his cheek. You could feel the tears welling up already in your eyes as you retreated your hand. He nursed the pink spot on the cheek you once kissed with a hand you once loved to hole.

“Do not lie to me- you know exactly what I mean. I should have done that at the wedding. You- are…you’re having an affair with her Will. Don’t deny it- I saw the love letters! I saw you kiss her!”

You were shaking hard. This was too horrible to be real. This had to be a nightmare. You should have seen the inside of his house, his desk, his tall bookshelves on your wedding day when you were to be brought there as Mrs. Ransome. Not as a fiancée betrayed for another like you were just a toy abandoned by a bored child. The tears began to make their trails down your face.

“The bishop would counsel us, I remember. He’d tell us we were already considered married…and You dare to break a sacred vow you made before your own God?” you accused.

He began to blink rapidly. His voice remained low.

“I was so…tormented about it…”

“You think you’re the tormented one?!!” you cried.

He held his hands up and continued.

“Cora has endured more than any woman ever should…the things her husband did to her…he’d strangle her, beat her. I opened up a bit of her collar and saw…saw a bruise, there on her skin. I wanted to…to…comfort her.”

“You could comfort her in ways that don’t involve fucking her in the forest!” you argued, your voice raising.

He kept going on, his voice still quiet.

“She…she…she and I…we are…we are like two bits of one soul…”

“So, which is more important, Will- your cock or my dignity?!” you asked furiously.

He looked up at you. You saw a small flinch from the obscene word, but he remained still. There was another heavy pause.

“Of course, you are more important…” he answered. “Please have pity on Cora. She has…been through much. She focuses on science, not emotions. She told me…She thinks love is a weakness and it’s not!”

“Her love for you?! Her love for you?!” you cried.

You stood up, gripping the table.

“You promised to love me. You said you could be a devoted fiancée, a devoted husband…So the time we spent together was nothing?! The times you danced with me-they were for nothing? My every visit to church and every minute I held my tongue and made myself perfect to become your wife was for nothing!? Your gifts-your kisses and promises and declarations-nothing? What of me! Did you forget- you told me every day you loved me! And I love you, Will! So- is that a weakness? Am I boring?! Am I nothing? Am I nothing to you?! Why is she important and not I? Why is it about her and not I? I’ve known you for years and you now declare to love for a woman you’ve known for four months?! Do you even hear yourself, Will!?”

He frowned and lowered his eyes to the table.

“It wasn’t for nothing, Y/N. I love you…”

You interrupted him.

“Will- you say you love me; you say I am important; you say all of this- but your actions are telling a different story!”

Your voice lowered. You hugged yourself.

“Did you never…. try and resist her? Fight for me? At least try? And did you not think…think to consider…that I’d be hurt?”

This time, he began to tear up a little. But his face remained stoic. He looked off to the side.

“You were dying…. I thought I would lose you forever…and that night, you told me to dance with her.”

Then, suddenly, was a voice in your head. A familiar lilting voice. Too familiar, too like Will’s. But it wasn’t him.

“It’s about time you confronted him, darling.”

You turned around. Was Loki there? Appearing out of the shadows to witness this spectacle? Yet he didn’t appear. Dear God, were you mad?

“No- you’re not mad darling. It’s only your favorite god of mischief here” Loki responded in your head.

“What are you doing?” you thought back.

“Just watching….your thoughts are too loud. Granted, I could be sleeping. But this…this is too interesting.” Loki replied.

You snapped you back to reality, hearing the voice before you.

“You were…you were dying…you were at death’s door…” Will argued.

“But I was still alive, Will! You thought I was implying for you to fuck her?! No! Dancing is not the same as…as…as an affair! How hard is that to understand? I said to dance with her! Nothing more!” you responded.”

Your hands curled into fists. He looked back at you with sad eyes and a clenched jaw.

“Do you…realize what this means? This is more than how you have hurt me-When I marry you, you are my foundation for society. My only means of having the money to survive. You’d be the roof over my head- and for our children if we had them! I cannot scrub floors on my own after I marry you- because every penny and every check they give me will go to you! If you leave me and flee with her, I have nothing to protect me. If you took our children with you- I would never get them back because they’d be your children by law, not mine. I will be dependent on the charity of others all my life, clinging to whatever money you send back. But if you refused to give me one pound to spend it all on Cora-you could legally get away with it! Don’t you realize - this is a threat to my future?!” you cried.

His face softened and he shook his curly head.

“You know I would never do that to you, Y/N…” he replied.

“But you still betrayed me for another woman…is Cora…better than me? Prettier? Superior? What does she have that I lack?” you asked.

He was quiet. He began to blink rapidly.

“You love me…and you told her love isn’t a weakness- so is SHE your weakness?! Or rather-is your love for her your strength and am I the weak one?!” you pressed.

“I…I do love you…but with her I…I…I don’t even have any words to say…” William replied.

You felt your face scrunch up and you felt hot. Then Loki’s Voice rang in your head again.

“You should tell where he could shove his Bible, it would be funny!”

But instead, you took his Bible. You held it, feeling the soft brown cover. It was large and worn from so much use over the years. You then looked at him and the book and back at him.

“One thing disturbs me the most- Do you understand what God himself says about this, Will?! What Jesus said about it? How it’s better to pluck your eye out! It’s a commandment, Will- and you dare break it to sleep with her when you promised yourself to me!? How can you go to the pulpit- how can you represent morality in this town?! How can you look at yourself?!”

You wiped off a tear with your hand and continued.

“I loved you because you were open-minded. You weren’t some fire and brimstone Puritan, but you were kind and spoke of love…now I see you were TOO open-minded if you think this is remotely acceptable!” you cried, the Bible shaking in your grip.

This glass of wine I’m having right now is perfect for this. Maybe I should spare one for you too, hm? Loki quipped.

He eyed the book carefully, then he went up to you.

“I must tell you…I went to church right after this morning and I…I prayed. I prayed in the field too, after… I fell on my knees in the church and prayed to God…”

You felt your mouth curl into a snarl. You then lowered your eyes to the Bible. If this was hysteria, you gave into it.

“You know how I like history. And if I recall correctly-The church of England was started by Henry the Eighth-to throw out his own wife who loved him. His wife of many years. To toss her away like she was dirt for another woman. In that case, you’re a perfect vicar.”

You threw the Bible onto the floor-papers flew out. It broke. William ran over, getting onto his knees on the floor in a hurry. He began to hurriedly pick it back up, putting papers back to where they were.

“Love’s not a weakness, is it Will?!Well- it might not be, but I’m about to make you even weaker!” you snarled.

You gave him a sharp kick to the ribs, and he jumped and groaned in pain from your foot. You wished it was possible to kick his crotch. Yet he still fumbled to get the papers and the Bible.

You then knelt to be on his level, flinging your fists to him. Punching, slapping his beautiful face in a blind fury of the screams and sobs that escaped your throat. He grunted and took some of it, trying to duck what he could while gathering the book. Then he left it and turned to you. Will kept repeating your name, trying to block what hits he could, down on his knees with the floor with you, trying to calm you. It didn’t work.

You glanced at him. The reddish-blonde hair and goatee you once thought- and did think- incredibly handsome. The goatee that tickled the first time he kissed you. The hair that swept in the wind when you walked together. You yanked at his curls to pull it off. He shouted “ah!” and got your arm to stop you. Impulsively, your fingers pinched at the hair of his goatee and plucked at it- trying to rip it out. He let out a cry of pain. Then he grabbed hold of your forearms to keep from attacking him.

“Y/N-Y/N, my love- please!”

“You’re a bastard, Will Ransome! You’re a bastard! A BASTARD!” you shouted.

He finally grabbed your fists. He was so strong, he tried to pull you into an embrace but you pulled away. You felt his large hands become a grip.

“Y/N! I…I love you…I love you so much! Please, Please for-”

He never finished that sentence. You curled up your saliva and spat in his face. He flinched, then released his hand to wipe if off. You jumped up to your feet. You curled your hands into fists as you backed to the door.

“I loved you, William. I-LOVED you. I gave you everything. I was ready to be this perfect, pristine wife for you-your ministry. I was ready to give you my time, the rest of my youth, my energy, my prayers, my devotion, my virginity, my body- everything! Do you know why I made the bargain? So I could live to be with you-to make you happy. I gave you everything. But now I see the truth. …”

“Y/N…darling…I do love you…” he pleaded, still on the floor.

You got closer to the door.

“You don’t want a wife, Will. You want a woman to be a martyr for you. To suck her until she’s dry and has nothing left. All while you won’t give her a drop. No one was forcing you to be with Cora, there was no reason- and you slept with her anyway just because you were bored of me. You were bored. She made your cock hard. And you pitied her little sob story and could think of no alternative of consolation than fucking her. And you never considered, even as I was lying in bed, that I needed you there. That my last moments on Earth could be by you, being loved by you-knowing I Was loved and wanted and valued. It would have been better if I died of consumption, believing you still cared about me enough to put my needs before yours…as I did for you…”

You were crying and you could feel snot running from your nose. Your face was hot. Then you turned and looked into those beautiful blue eyes with an overwhelming fury rising in your voice.

“William, you are a disgrace to the priesthood, to morals, to ethics, to righteousness. You knew very well what your own faith says about this-and you fucked her anyway.”

You turned to open the door. Then returned to look at him as he got up, clinging his Bible and sermon papers.

“Adultery itself is unacceptable But you are more than an adulterer, Will- you’re a hypocrite!”

You slammed the door shut. Then you began running. You knew he’d run after you. You picked up the pace through the dark streets. You were crying. Your lungs burned, but you ran. You never looked at the ocean or the town. Not even a glance to see if he would chase you. You only ran past the streets, right into the forest. Where he couldn’t find you. Where you could be alone.

You heard a bit of his name calling after you, in an echo. You ran to the shadows of the trees. You hid behind a large oak, the sharp bark prickling your fingers. You heard William’s voice.

“Y/N! Y/N! Come back! Y/N! Where are you?!”

Perhaps you should have fled to someone’s house. You should wake up Stella in her bed-for she, best of everyone, would listen more than speak. She would let you cry into her blue shawls. She would hug you and tell you how it would be better. But she was asleep.

You should have ran home. Ran to cry to your parents. Or anyone in town. But you knew what they would say.

“You’re being irrational. Think of how your reputation will be tarnished should you call it off. And what are you thinking? There was no better match for a lady than William Ransome. So, what if he did something? Men are weak to temptation-it’s just the way they are. Don’t make yourself into a martyr!? You should care first for his home and self being peaceful. You must go through with the marriage! It will be a life of stability with a good, moral man. A good, moral man!”

A very good, moral man indeed, you thought.

You sank into the ground. Tears kept pouring out of you. You nestled up against the tree. Trying to savor what warmth you could. Though there was the rustling of leaves and you heard birds and owls. How peaceful it was when your heart was breaking in pieces.

“Please…I need help…I need to get out of here…I can’t face him…I can’t face anyone…I can’t marry this man. I’m trapped, I’m trapped…” you thought.

It became calm. There were crickets in the night. The sound lulled you. Your emptiness from your rage made you exhausted. Before you knew it, it all became black as you curled up in the forest. Leaving all consciousness as you curled up onto the ground by the tree.

Consciousness arrived. It was still dark in your vision. You felt strong arms holding you up against something warm- flesh like. And a voice. A familiar voice.

Had William picked you up and carried you back to town? He would. Damn him, he would. That wonderful, horrible man. You didn’t want to open your eyes to see him. You had no strength. You didn’t feel like fighting back. It was as if the crying had drained you dry. You may as well resolve yourself to your fate. Wife to an unfaithful man. You had nothing in you to fight.

Then you felt movement beneath you- something breathing beneath you. A strong smell. You felt hair bristle you. A brushing of lips- a horse.

But you heard…another voice. Another familiar, light, lilting voice. A woman’s voice.

“Poor Y/N! Thank God! Please…please take care of her! Wherever this Asgard is- take care of her!”

Stella! You realized.

“I shall, fair lady. She will be safe there, you have my honored word she shall,” the male voice holding you replied.

He didn’t talk like Will. Then you realized you did recognize it. Henry the Fifth- or Hal!

“But…why was she here? Poor thing- all alone! Do you know? Did something happen?” Stella asked.

“My lady, I do not know. But you must be glad the god of mischief himself is not here and I am. He is capable of many things. And you understand what his powers could do. Anyone who crosses with him soon regrets it.”

“I...I do…” she agreed.

“Then…then I’m off.”

“Please take care of her!”

“We all shall, dear lady.”

There was a sharp turn, and you heard the whinny of a horse. It began to run beneath you. In only a few seconds, there was a blur of light from your closed eyes. The horse kept running. You weren’t fully there yet, but you could hear things, feel things. It wasn’t time for the bargain yet, but you didn’t care. Darkness overcame you. Before you knew it, it was dark, you felt yourself brought from one pair of arms to another. There was a murmur of voices. Some of them similar. Familiar. Too familiar. An echo. A pebble dropped into the ocean where it rippled. And you were carried.

Finally, you regained enough consciousness to gather that you were in that familiar guest room. You were in Asgard, you realized. In the palace. And right near your bed was Loki. He sat in a chair. A scene you had seen before. The sun was setting there-it was beginning to fall into the purple shadows of night.

“What is it…what’s going on…” you asked.

Loki appeared.

“You ran to the forest and collapsed. You’re in Asgard, Y/N…you’re safe for now…you can process what happened. You can grieve.”

You shook your head.

“You’ll tell me that my grief is excessive…” you said.

“I will say nothing, then.”

“What a challenge for you! But…Will…he…” you began to stutter.

You began blinking. Then you curled up and let the tears fall again.

“He was….everything to me. And now he… My own fiancée. The man I was ready to marry…it’s like he became the serpent and slithered from my side to the bed of another..”

You wiped off tears with your sleeve. You realized you were put into a light nightgown.

“No wonder…Cora’s beautiful and exciting and smart and I’m ugly and boring and nothing…I’m weak compared to her…you can say it, Loki…”

He leaned forward, touching his chin and examining you.

“I will say this- You only look miserable and exhausted…and I did promise you a drink-here. I put the potion mixed with some wine. You need it far more than I right now.”

He handed you the goblet. You took a deep drink. You felt it lull you.

“Get some rest, Y/N. You haven’t slept well in days….”

“H-How…how did you know?” you asked. Taking another sip of the potion.

“Well…in short, darling, I can hear your thoughts. Ever since the bargain, they keep coming to me…”

“Why can’t I hear yours?”

“You should be able to…it’ll take some practice, but you can. But for now…you need to drink your potion and get some sleep, Y/N.”

You cupped both hands around the glass. It was a little bit of red wine, but it was mainly the potion, making the flavor sweeter than normal with some added honey inside. The star marks on your hands seemed a little sore and you rubbed it with your finger. How was it the bargain made you hear each other’s thoughts? Before you could ask, Loki settled the blankets over you. He then walked outside, closing the door with a squeak. As you nestled into the blankets, you heard voices talking in the hallway. Their echoes impossible to ignore.

“So, she’s not a new soldier for this battle? Why her? Wouldn’t the tracker instead be a little more useful?” asked one.

“Don’t be hard on her, Rob. She could be useful. But she should be careful….” Replied another.

“Oh, Jon-don’t push Y/N darling into a battle yet! She fainted in the woods just hours ago! The woman’s distraught!” you heard Loki reply.

“Distraught? What do you mean?” the voice asked.

“Walk down with me, gentlemen, and I’ll explain it in short….” Loki offered.

You heard the footsteps go down the marble hall. Then you could not distinguish any words. The potion lulled you into a deep, blissful sleep.

When you awoke, it was a nice morning. You heard birds- to think you were in a different world and birds still chirruped. Was this the next day? Very likely it was the next day by now in your world, in Midgard. But here, it was morning.

It was Sunday. It would be hard not to think of Will on Sundays.

There was a knock on the door. It was a servant bringing some breakfast. A wooden tray with poached eggs, buttered toast, fresh fruit, and plump sausage links.

“Could I have coffee?” you asked.

The servant blinked.

“What is that?” she asked.

Loki’s voice rang in your head with a sigh.

“Oh, allow me.”

With a whiff of green magic, a blue, porcelain cup with the rich drink appeared on the tray. It warmed your hands as you held it, like a small hug in a cup.

After scarfing it all down, another brought you some clothes. They would be long, flowy robes the blue of a robin’s egg secured with a bronze belt. They were pretty, you had to admit. But you only sat in your room on the chair. Staring out the window. Thinking. Ruminating. Playing the scene that happened last night. Then playing through every memory you had of Will.

There was the time in spring when you played with his dog by throwing sticks for the pet to fetch under the blossoming trees. There was the time he walked around in the muck of the marshes. Mud and dirty got on his clothes and face. So when he returned to town, you cleaned off his face with your handkerchief. The time he proposed, and you through your arms over her broad shoulders and embraced him with a “yes.” Every polite kiss on the hand that scratched from his goatee. Every lovely dance at a party where he looked in your eye as you both moved to swelling string music. Every sermon that you took note of while admiring the grey morning light of the church and on his white robes with green sashes.

Then the letters. The morning in the field. Cora.

Every flash of his black with the small white flap of the collar that made you smile and your heart race with excitement. The sign that he represented God. Now it was something different. Black on white made your insides watery-once he represented God and now, he represented all things bad and wrong with the life. No- not with life-with men.

There was a knock on the door. Loki opened it. You stayed at the chair, turning to him. He was in his usual black and green robes. His blue eyes bright and his face had a gentle frown, rather than the proud, smug smile that was typical of him.

“How are you now? Slept alright?” he asked.

“Hadn’t slept this well in ages….” You answered.

“Do you…need anything, darling?”

“Don’t call me darling. And no.” you replied.

He took a step forward. You feel yourself lean a little back. The sunshine of outside melted its golden light into the room. It illuminated his face. It made the little embellishments on his clothes glow and patches of it warmed your skin.

“If you need anything, let a servant know. Or me.”

“If you can read my thoughts now, why bother asking?” you asked.

“Just to make sure, Y/N,” he said.

You stood up and crossed your arms.

“Why are you even here? Offering all these things, making me coffee in a cup? I know why-only offer nice things to me, so I owe you. To force me to sleep with you. How disappointing-You might be a god, but you’re just like all the other men.”

You turned to look out the window. He let in a deep sigh, his eyebrows briefly shooting up. He didn’t reply at your comment.

“The gardens and libraries and every nook of the library is free for you, should you want them.” He offered. Then he closed the door and left.

You did not feel like talking to Thor. As you passed him, you would only smile in greeting.

“Why-Y/N? What’s the matter?” he asked in his booming voice.

“Nothing, just…leave me alone…” you said, increasing your pace.

You curled up in the library. You grabbed volumes of sad romantic poetry. You read and re-read them to cry and cry your heart out. It was a release. It was something- the sadness that never left you.

I was never enough for Will. I’m not enough for him, for anyone… you kept thinking. When the last rumble of your latest crying session ended, you felt raw. Squeezed out like a wrinkled fruit. You noticed tear stains on the pages of the book. When you looked out the window, you realized how much time had passed. It was either the late afternoon or early evening. Suddenly, there was a knock on the door.

“I’m not in the mood, Loki!” you dismissed.

“I’m not Loki, my lady…” answered a similar voice.

When you opened the door, you saw Prince Hal. He had two silver glasses of what smelled like wine.

“He told me what happened. And I thought dealing with my father was bad.”

He walked inside. He handed you the wine. It’s dry, rich taste was welcoming. As you wiped your mouth, you noticed the deep red stain on your sleeve. The fireplace to the library crackled with a fresh ember. Both of you sat on the chair and sipped your glasses.

“So, it was you who brought me here?” you asked.

“Yes. Loki said he heard your cry for help. Your pain. He didn’t tell me why at the time, but he insisted I go and fetch you. He used his magic to send me there- said you deserved a ‘handsome prince on a horse’ to help you. But that his kind of prince would not be preferable to you. Hence me.”

You nestled into the chair. Hal cupped his goblet with one hand and began to take big drinks of it down.

“You said Loki…he told you what…what Will did…” you prodded.

Hal nodded, you could see an auburn curl fall free from his head.

“Yes. He did, he confirmed.

“And you saw Stella?” you asked.

He blinked rapidly. His eyes went to the corner and then back to yours in realization.

“Ah! The maid? That was her name? To be honest, I think she saw me. She was the first to find you,” he recalled.

“The First? She was in the forest at night?” you asked.

“Not night- the early morning. She was up early- I saw she had a basket for picking berries, as maids do. I heard her cry for help. Twas how I found you. I watched the maid pitifully try to carry you and fail- her delicacy not strong enough to carry you back to safety. You should have seen her amazement upon my steed. I told her who I was and who sent me, and she believed me. Then I could carry you like a babe and set us both on the horse and away. Her gentle heart fretted over you, my lady. I had to assure you many times you would be safe here in Asgard.”

You nodded. For the first time, you smiled at her. At the memory of your friend.

“Stella’s a good friend of mine. I’m glad she found me…” you responded.

Hal finished his wine with a big gulp. You weren’t even halfway done.

“You…you loved your intended. And he hurt you…I cannot imagine what it is to be hurt like that,” he said.

You made no comment, staring at the dark red of your wine in your cup. So dark, that it almost looked black. Hal then leaned forward, half ready to spring up from his chair.

“Perhaps…we should go to a tavern here. We’ll have another drink or two. I’ll tell you how I once scared an old man robbing a lord-get your mind off!” he offered with a smile and a wink.

A tavern. A place with low-lives, drunkards, and street walkers. A place where he would be emboldened with drinking and partying. Hal would flirt with you and smile at you. And then he would offer a room with one bed for the night. And it would not be for sleeping. Will seemed calm. He seemed chaste and appropriate. He seemed respectful of you. He seemed focused on God and his position. But his shaking cock could not lie. If this was how vicars acted, then how would this wild prince be like? No-no you had no taste. No- that was what Hal was after!

“No thank you, Hal. But…thank you for the wine.”

With that, Hal left.

The next two days followed that pattern. You took long baths full of hot water and scented soaps. You walked in the garden, never wanting to talk to anyone-not even Queen Frigga. You went to the library and curled up on a chair watching the fire, mostly to read the sad love poetry and wallow. You cried in every spot. On the garden bench, on the library rug, by a stone column, and on the long, marble steps. You cried in the morning. You cried in the afternoon. You cried at night. You would wake up late at night and begin crying again. You drank wine and stuffed yourself full of every tray of food. But thankfully, with the potion, your sleeping improved. You would awake to orange morning light and the crisp cool of the air of a new day. Refreshed and feeling new energy in you than the heavy weight of insomnia.

On the third day, Loki knocked on the door again to you. You were just enjoying a cup of coffee (the staff of Asgard figured out how to make some especially for you) and looking over the pages of a book you borrowed from the library.

“Y/N…do you want to return home?”

You shook your head.

“No. I can’t. I’m not ready,” you answered.

“But…anything from your home you would like?” he asked.

“I would like…my clothes. And my journal and embroidery from home.”

“You mean-the bustle and all those heavy skirts?” he asked with a curl of his lips.

You gave him a frown, furrowing your brow.

“Yes, my bustle and skirts!” you insisted.

Loki let out a sigh then tipped his head to the side.

“That can be done.”

“Loki…why are you so kind to me?” you asked, folding your arms in a hug for yourself.

Loki shrugged.

“It’s not a good look on the palace to have a guest be unhappy.”

“You sure do seem a little too grateful just for giving you milk,” you replied.

“I am not an ungrateful man, despite what my father will tell you…” he said. You got up from your chair and took a step closer to him.

“Loki…do you…do you know what’s going on back home? I know Stella saw Hal. And Hal told her I was taken to Asgard.” You asked.

“She’s telling them that you were hurt and was sent to Asgard for help.”

“So, they believe her?”

“Of course, they don’t believe her. They believed in a serpent. Now that they have been proven there is no serpent, but there is me, their imaginations are still running. They keep whispering to each other how you were abducted by the Norse God to be his whore. Doesn’t matter if it’s true or not to them-That’s what they believe. Makes for a good story, don’t you think?”

You decided not to ask about Will.

With a flick of Loki’s hand, out came a dress, corset, bustle, stockings, and petticoats and bustle laid on your bed. The dress was one of your own and a favorite of yours for the day- white with green stripes and pink embellishments. With another snap of his fingers, you saw your old journal and your embroidery, thread, and needles were there on the desk.

You smiled.

“Thank you.”

“Ah- I finally get one from you.”

He went over to the bed, observing the clothes.

“The more I look, the less bad I think they are…. your time’s fashion,” he commented.

“They are mine. They are a part of me- and it’s how I like to dress. I, for one, think your Asgardian dress is strange!” you shot back.

He crossed his arms and then leaned against the wall. You noticed a small laugh escape him in just a exhale. But then he flashed a handsome, winning smile.

“Oh- wait until you meet the others. There’s three- the new one dresses right in your era. But the other two of them are dressed strange, I can tell you that!”

You turned up.

“New men?”

“Yes- the new form. We’re all making a circle of each other for support!”

“For your war!”

“The one from your time is busy right now-so he will very likely be late. But the two others- the ones from the future- they will be here today at breakfast. But…I know that you have been taking your meals alone…I don’t wish to bother you,” Loki shrugged. “Like I said, it’s mainly for a meeting. About this little war. The danger to our worlds and all that. But you might as well distract yourself. Unless you’re not ready…”

You got up.

“No…I’d like to meet them, please. Just let me get dressed.” You insisted.

He smiled and then left to give you privacy.

You sighed with relief putting on your own fashions. It felt like missing a part of your skin. You didn’t feel like a creature in a zoo repeating a mindless pattern. No, you were a person. Once you were done, you opened the door. Loki was pacing about. He stopped and smiled at you.

“Here- allow me to escort you…”

Loki offered his arm. You hesitated, then You took it and began to walk with him. He felt warm from being so close. Even the leather of his sleeve was warm. He did smile a small smile but offered no remarks to you. That is, until you finally walked into the dining room. Of course, Hal was there, running a hand through his hair.

“Ah! My lady! You’re right here! You can meet them!” Hal said with a greeting smile.

“Who’s them?” you asked.

As if on cue, in walked another gentleman. He had the same look as them if you saw his face- cheekbones and blue eyes. But his skin was a bit tan, and his hair was short. Blonder than the others. He wore strange clothes- you could see a white shirt with a blue jacket and blue pants that matched. Though he looked at you. He at once went up and shook his hand and smiled.

“Oh- you are out and ready? Are you a guest here as well? The woman from Aldwinter?” he asked. His voice was formal and his manners proper, despite the oddity of his clothes.

“Yes, I am,” you confirmed. Loki let you go from his arm as you approached the gentleman.

“Pleasure to meet you- my name is Jonathan Pine.”

You curtsied and he looked at you in amusement. His hand reached out to shake yours, then it retreated.

“Pleased to meet you, I’m Y/N,” you replied dutifully.

Loki let out a little laugh. He stayed standing, pulling up a chair intended to be yours.

“Oh, Jonathan! You do have a weakness for beautiful women in need of help!”

Jonathan shot him a look.

“I’m only greeting her, sir,” he said.

“You’re not at work, Jonathan-and no one’s here to watch you. You can finally relax here…” came another voice.

In walked another similar looking fellow. Only he had redder hair that was a touch longer. He wore a white shirt and dark pants and something funny and dark around his neck. His sleeves were rolled up and you saw a watch around his wrist. But something in his pale face and there was a slight sadness in his eye. But he looked up at you and they shone.

“Ah, the new girl!” the stranger said.

He went up and shook your hand. You were a little shocked at the intimacy-touching a man you didn’t know!-but went with it.

“I hear Hal gave you quite a ride the other day. Well, I can give you one too if you like,” he said with a wink.

You felt yourself become hot and flustered and fluttered your eyes down. You even frowned and when your eyes went up you glared at him.

“Sir! Do not speak to me in that way when I don’t even know your name!” you said.

“Oh, please- Robert! You don’t even know her name! Robert, this is Y/N. Y/N- this is Doctor Robert Laing. I promise you, he doesn’t bite!” Loki assured.

“Hard” added Robert with a playful shrug.

With that, the men sat at their seats before the food and you.

Loki swept his arms up. “And now I was told the other would be late- we may begin gentlemen…and lady…”

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crashdevlin · 9 months

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Losses and Gains 4- Something Wrong

Author’s Note: This is the fourth chapter of Losses and Gains, the second part of To Have it All. This is Something More...from Jensen's side!

Second Author's note: I'm sorry this took so damn long to get out. I won't bore you with the details but I'm on new meds and things should be getting better from now on. Love all of you that have stuck around.

Summary: Jensen is having trouble letting go...and maybe he's imagining it, but it seems Y/n is having troubles too.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader, background Reader x Tom Hiddleston

Word count: 3386

Story Warnings: open marriage, mentions of depression and heartbreak, bad things, alcohol as a crutch, anger, fighting

~~~

"What did you do?!" Misha's voice went up by at least three octaves as he pointed to the workers taking my broken flatscreen out to the dumpster so they could fit the new one in its place.

“It broke,” I responded, hoping that he wouldn’t press. It’s Misha, though, so of course, he insisted.

“How?!”

“Coffee machine slipped. It’s fine. I got a new one coming.”

“A new TV or a new coffee machine?”

I rolled my eyes. “Both. It’s not a big deal, Misha. Seriously.”

“Hey, is everything okay? I mean, I don’t wanna pry but-”

“Then don’t,” I interrupted. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

“Oh…kay,” he said skeptically. “Well…have you heard about Y/n and Tom Hiddleston? Ya know, I knew something was going on between them. I could just see them together…and they are a cute couple, don’t you think?”

I had to stop myself from stomping away like a fucking child. Misha didn’t know, and I couldn’t let him in on it now, so I made an excuse. “Yeah, they’re adorable. I’m gonna go check on the movers.”

I was standing off to the side, watching them put my new TV on its mount, when the trailer rocked, and Jared stepped up into the kitchenette with me. “So, I take it you saw Tom’s post?” He ran his hand over the dent in the fridge. I didn’t look at him, just gave a nod as I watched the workers. “You took it out on your stuff this time, not Danneel, so I guess that’s progress.”

I clenched my jaw for a minute before turning to him. “She didn’t even want him to tell people. You know that, right?”

“But he could tell people…and that’s what you’re upset about.”

“You think I’m jealous?”

“You think you’re not?” He scoffed and crossed his arms over his chest. “You can’t be that deluded, Ackles. All of this is because you’re jealous of him, that he can give her what you never could. You don’t want her happy.”

“I’m not--Of course, I want her happy, Jared.”

“Only if she’s with you.” I focused on the workers again. “You’re sabotaging your marriage. You’re sabotaging yourself. All because you don’t want her to find happiness with anyone else.”

“I’m not sabotaging shit.”

“You’re sabotaging everything.” He stepped in front of me, obscuring my view to force me to focus on him. I stared at his shoulder, but I refused to look at his face. “You have to stop this. You have to learn how to deal. You have to let her be happy with someone else.”

“Is she?” My jaw clenched as I let my eyes jump to his. “She’s barely even talking to anybody anymore. Kim and Bri haven’t heard from her in weeks. When’s the last time she called you?”

He looked away this time. “She’d tell us if she were having problems.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” I whispered, angrily. “She knows she’s made her bed and she would fucking lay in it, Jared. That’s who she is. She doesn’t wanna hurt anyone so she’d stick it out with him because that’s the option that she thinks will hurt the fewest people! So, what if she’s not happy? Jared, what if he’s…” I looked at my feet as tears popped up in my eyes. “What if she misses me?”

He sighed and reached out to pull me into a hug. “Of course, she does. She can miss you and be happy with him. She was in love with you, too, and that didn’t go away. It’s gonna be okay. You just gotta breathe and focus on the good, man.”

I swallowed down my tears and pulled away from him. “I don’t know if I can do it. She’s coming back next week. I don’t think I can be in the same place as her and not…not fucking break, man.”

He ran his hand through his hair and turned to look at the new TV as the workers turned it on to test it. “She’ll be here next week. I can check on her. She won’t be able to lie to me…not to my face. I’ll make sure she’s okay.”

“You’d do that for me?”

“She’s still my friend, too, Jay…and you’re right. She hasn’t been talking. I hope that she’s just busy and things are good but she hasn’t been talking to anybody. Fuck, Misha said she hasn’t even been responding to his incessant emails about GISH.”

I looked at my boots and sighed a little. "I'm sure I'm just overreacting. Seeing trouble because I want it to be there. She's probably MIA because she's busy and she's spending all her extra focus on him."

Jared smiled and patted my shoulder. "That's the most introspective, clear-headed thing you've said since Atlanta. Maybe you will get through this with your life intact."

He walked out as the workmen handed me a new remote and asked if I needed anything else before they left. I shook my head and thanked them. Only one person could give me what I needed...and I couldn’t call her.

~~~

I spent the next few days thinking I was getting better. I was improving. I was talking to Dee again, video chatting every day and not wanting to ignore her existence completely. I wasn't drowning in bitterness anymore. I was gonna be okay, I could feel it.

Until Y/n drove her little Nissan rental car onto the lot. I was talking to the mechanics about a scene with the Impala when she got out and looked around. My throat went dry and I had to force myself to look away as she greeted several of the crew on her way to wardrobe. I excused myself from my conversation and...followed her, but not in a creeper way. I just wanted to see her.

Yeah, I know that seems creepy. That's why I didn't answer when Jared walked up to stand next to me as I was staring at the door of the makeup trailer, waiting for her to come out.

"What'cha doin'?" I just shrugged. "Y/n's in there?"

"Yep."

"I don't need to tell you how creepy it is for you to be standing out here like a stalker, do I?"

"Nope."

"Good, then I won’t. Go run lines with Alex or something, I'm gonna go say 'hi'." I nodded, not watching as he walking away. I just turned and headed for Alex's trailer so I wouldn't be tempted to stick around. I didn’t run lines, though, just let the kid provide a distracting conversation for me as I waiting for call so I could interrogate Jared.

He immediately seemed on the defense. "I didn't have a lot of time to talk to her. She was due on Second Unit so I only had a few minutes, but we're gonna get dinner tonight so I can talk to her a bit more in depth."

"Okay, but how'd she seem? She seem good? Did you ask her about Tom? Is she happy?" I whispered furiously as we headed for the motel set.

He hesitated. He fucking hesitated. "I...don't know. I'm sure she is but…"

"But what?" I demanded, stopping in my tracks.

He ran his hand through his hair and rubbed the back of her neck. "She didn't want the Facebook post. We all guessed that but...the way she excused it...I don’t know, Ackles, it just seemed...off. She said something about him making decisions for her because she doesn't make good decisions. It just seemed...wrong. I don't know exactly why but...I'm gonna get to the bottom of it at dinner, okay? I'm sure it's nothing but bad wording on her part."

My mind went rampaging through options but I didn't really have any. There was nothing I could do. Even if there was something wrong, what could I do? Absolutely nothing.

"Jared...if she's not happy with him, you have to convince her-"

"I'm not going to convince her of shit, dude. If she's not happy, she will figure it out eventually. She's smart and she got out of her bad marriage and she can get herself out of this if it's bad."

I didn't bring up the fact that Nate fucking cheated on her and left her. What would be the point? I just went to work. Had to focus on something.

~~~

"She swears she's happy," Jared said as we ate our breakfast burritos the next day.

"And do you believe her? What about Tom making decisions for her?"

"She's letting him make decisions because she thinks he's helping her."

"Yeah? How does telling the world about their relationship when she said she didn't want him to help her?"

Jared shrugged. "He's helping with her career and Nova, too, apparently. Did you know Nate is trying to get full custody? She's under a lot of stress. That's probably what I was picking up on yesterday, ya know."

I rolled my eyes. I remembered Nate threatening to go after custody but I didn't think he'd actually do it. "Bet he just wants child support out of her. He doesn't give a fuck about that little girl."

"Yeah, but...it is what it is. And it's part of why she's off. Honestly, I also think she's afraid to be too close with the Family because they are all such good friends with you and staying close to them...puts her in your circle."

I scoffed. "What, like I'm gonna make things hard for her if she's hanging with fuckin' Misha or something?"

"No, not intentionally, but hearing about you, knowing that they don't know, having to act like nothing happened between you...that's gotta be as hard for her as it is for you."

I chewed on my bottom lip for a moment before sighing. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

"Of course not, but it did. She's dealing with her end of it the best she can. You have to do the same. You getting over it might allow her to come back comfortably. You ever think of that? That maybe the reason she can't be around you has nothing to do with Tom and has everything to do with her not being able to deal with the guilt and the angry looks you give her and how everything exploded."

He was right. I wanted Tom to be the reason she pulled away because then it wouldn't be my fault but it was. Everything was my fault.

"Oh, and she has her first late show appearance this week. I'm gonna give her a shout out on Twitter. A good friend would do the same. It's a Marvel thing, press for her Anthology."

"So Tom'll be there too," I guessed, bitterly.

"And Anthony Mackey and Sebastian Stan, yeah," he confirmed. "Look, you don't have to watch it. Just try to be supportive."

“If I’m gonna advertise for their press junket, I’m gonna fuckin’ watch the thing...for her.”

“You remember that Tom is all about the PDA, right? You might see something you don’t want to see.” Jared was trying to be helpful. I know he was, but...it just seemed like salt in my wounds.

“Yeah. I’m a big boy. I can handle it. Thanks.”

“If you say so, Ackles,” he said, before walking away.

~~~

I made sure I had a stiff drink in my hand when I sat down in my trailer to watch Y/n on Colbert. A double of the best whiskey I owned. I knew that it was going to be a long night. I figured an angry fit, maybe an ugly cry, was on the books. Instead, I felt a bit numb as I watched the Marvel crew walk onstage. Tom was holding her hand and they were both smiling so fucking bright. She looked so excited to be on that stage and so...good. I wanted to be upset about the way Tom sat right beside her and put a possessive hand on her arm, but I was so lost in her eyes and the smile she got when Colbert greeted her and congratulated her on her first late night appearance that I couldn't think much of anything.

But then Stephen said, "We gotta talk about that bombshell Tom dropped last week." and she (and Mackey) immediately said, "No, we don't." She didn't want to talk about it. She still wanted her goddamn privacy!

But the host pressed. Of course he did. It was newsworthy, after all. “Come on. It’s an important topic. You two met on set?”

She sighed and I think I saw her roll her eyes a bit. "Fine. I’ll play. Yes, we met on set. I flew down from Vancouver and I was trying really hard to be invisible. Before Supernatural, I was really good at that whole wallflower thing. Tom noticed me right away, so I guess my chameleon circuit is blown." I didn't get the joke but some of the people in the audience did because there was a smattering of laughter. "And that's how you find the Whovians," she commented with a little smile. "Anyway, Tom commented on my character's name and then he asked me for drinks. A couple days later, I invited him to sing with me at a convention and we...haven't spent much time apart since."

Tom's face contorted a bit and then he scoffed at her. "That's amazing."

She looked down at her lap, something between shame and guilt on her face. "What is?"

"That a woman so adept at the written word could take all of the poetry out of our first encounter." She bit her lip as he turned to look at Colbert. "Her hair caught my eye. Her natural coloring, not the dye job she did to cover her character’s ginger hair. It's this Neopolitan shade, with highlights of light and lowlights of brilliant caramel, but as I passed her the sun hit her just right to showcase the firey red strands that are usually hidden. When I saw that the hue of her eyes matched the brilliance of her smile, I knew I had to get to know her. When she got so shy the first time I spoke her name…" He turned back to her and I knew she was blushing, even through the TV screen. Even from a few thousand miles away, I could see what she was hiding behind her hair. "Like she's doing right now...I determined that I would get her out on the town, have a few drinks, and learn everything I could about her. By the time we took the stage for karaoke, I was absolutely taken with her."

Stephen leaned forward, trying to see Y/n. “And keeping it quiet for the last, what 3 months, that was really her idea?”

Tom nodded. “Definitely. I’m not a man that keeps quiet about his affections.”

“He’s a big fan of the PDA.” Sebastian Stan chuckled. “You remember the Taylor Swift shirt?”

“And you’re not?” Colbert asked. That was a loaded question. I knew she would have loved PDA with someone she wanted everyone to see her with. She took it to a self-deprecating place, though.

"I mean, look, I'm almost thirty and that is ancient by Hollywood’s standards for women and I'm just now getting started in show business." If thirty is ancient, what the hell was I to her? "A year ago, I was a cashier or running a forklift at a Sam's Club back home. I'm not used to everyone knowing every little detail of my life. I'm not used to anyone caring to know about me." She shook her head. "I knew this relationship would be something people would be all over if they knew about it. I mean...he's Tom Hiddleston and I'm just...who the hell am I? Nobody. We've been together a few months. We're still in that early infatuation stage where everything’s great and there’s never been any problems. We haven't even had our first fight yet. In my experience, things can fall apart pretty quickly as soon as you're out of the honeymoon stage."

"That's not true." I hated how Tom smiled at her. "We fought over the Facebook post."

"That wasn’t a fight, Tom. The knock-down, drag-out arguments I had with my ex...those were fights."

Colbert seemed to remember his place as host and leaned forward again. "So when he said that you were giving him the opportunity to leave without anyone capitalizing on your drama, that was…"

“It was totally true, but it’s more complicated than that. It wasn’t like I was rooting for him to leave me, I just…I mean, look at him. He’s Tom freakin’ Hiddleston." I rolled my eyes at her words. "His last girlfriend was Taylor Swift, who has like 8 inches of height on me and millions of dollars and a squad of supermodel best friends. I’m short and chubby and have a kid. It would’ve been unreasonable and, frankly, arrogant to assume he would stick around. How could I possibly know there was something lovable about me?”

She said that like a joke but I wanted to scream. She was being so mean to herself. She was being downright horrible. Why wasn't Tom disagreeing? Why wasn't he building her up? Why did she seem more torn down and broken than when I met her?

“Anyway, why don’t we talk about the dang movie?" she volunteered, obviously tired of being the center of attention. "Which I had very little to do with so you can talk to Monsieurs Stan and Mackey, who’ve been sitting there annoyed with the relationship talk.”

“I don’t know about ‘annoyed’,” Anthony disputed with a smile.

“Don’t lie, Mack," Sebastian said, chuckling. “No, we’re good. She’s cool. I mean, we just met her in the green room 'cause she’s been forcing Tom to keep her a secret from us, too, but she seems genuine.”

“I’m gonna point out that she’s an actor, too, though. We’re well-versed in hiding our crazy. Also, she’s from the South. Southern women are either the most genuine chicks you’ll ever meet…or the ultimate in crazy.” Anthony Mackey obviously knows his Southern women.

“I’ve met her family. If she’s hiding any craziness, it’s directly resultant from them,” Tom responded.

Colbert's eyes went wide just like mine did. “Oh, insulting the family on national television, not a good idea."

“Nah, it’s okay. They know they’re crazy," Y/n covered. "And we’ll go with Anthony’s assessment. I got damage, and I use my acting chops to hide a lot of it, but…I’m…”

Tom must've sensed her floundering because he reached out to take her hand again. “She’s amazing. She’s intelligent, she’s funny, she’s gorgeous and better than all that, she’s an unbelievable mother." He got to meet Nova. He got to meet Nova and I only ever saw her through a video chat. Why did that burn? "Her daughter, Nova, is an absolute dream and it’s square on this woman’s shoulders.”

She looked uncomfortable with the praise. Maybe she wasn't used to hearing it from him...or maybe just not in so public a venue. “Okay, that’s not true. Nova is awesome but I can’t take full credit on that. Also, please let some other topic rule the time we got left, please. This is a MCU promo, not a Y/n promo.”

“As long as you’re not giving credit to anyone who doesn’t actually deserve it.” He almost growled that one. He seemed to have a problem with her past. Her parents, her ex...only Nova seemed to be spared.

“Please, Stephen, ask about the Winter Soldier sequence," she begged.

She sat silently through the rest of the segment as the others spoke enthusiastically about their characters and the rumored TV show for the Falcon and Winter Soldier and the growth of both characters in relation to Steve Rogers. She kept her eyes on her lap, or on her hand clasped in Tom's.

Something wasn't right. There was something very wrong.

I wasn’t with her. I wasn’t lifting her up. He was failing her...but there was nothing I could do about it. I picked up my whiskey and downed it in one gulp.

#cassie writes stuff #spn rpf #jensen x reader #jensen x danneel #tom hiddleston x reader #angst #alcohol abuse

19 notes · View notes

brunchable · 2 years

Text

Chapter 5 — Turning Page (Part 2) || Royalty!S.S. x Royalty!Reader x Royalty!T.H.

Words: 11.5K Genre: Period Drama, Love Triangle, Royalty AU, Jealousy. Warnings: includes a ✨love scene✨ 18+ NSFW, Profanity, Sword fight. Pairings: Stephen Strange x Reader, Tom Hiddleston x Reader. A/N: So I have been MIA because I had WORK, and i'm so TIRED and I'm also binge watching House of the Dragons + Game of Thrones (I AM OBSESSED). Thanks to the series, I got some inspiration y'know.

“She’s carrying my child, I hope you understand.” Stephen addressed Tom quite arrogantly.

“I understand fully my Prince,” Tom replied but shakes his head, “I’m just a bit wary that you might hurt her, and I can’t allow that.” Tom uttered without thought and by hurt, he meant emotionally.

“Hurt her? I'm not going to harm her. You, on the other hand, I'm going to destroy—if you don’t back off.” Stephen seethed closed in on Tom who stood his ground unfazed, both men sizing each other up, faces inches away from each other.

Tom huffed softly through his nose, sending only a smile to Stephen to piss him off and it was working because he could see the Prince’s nostrils flaring. Both of them ignored the shocked faces around them, both refusing to back off just to prove who was more dominating.

“I think now is a good time to break it off.” Ben, along with Andrew and Oscar, pulled the two away from each other. Ben pointedly looked at you so that Stephen would look in your direction as well; so he could see how tired you appeared, “Don’t give her something to stress about, both of you.” Ben’s eyes flickered between Stephen and Tom.

“Of course. My apologies, Commander.” Tom bowed his head.

Andrew pulled his brother aside, far away from the camp where no one could eavesdrop on their conversation, “Have you completely lost your marbles brother?!”

Tom avoided Adrew’s frustrated stare and sighed heavily, “Alright, I’m sorry but I can’t help it! Not after you told me what happened between them.”

Andrew harrumphs and paces with his hands on his hips, “I won't even bother convincing you to stop seeing as you don’t listen—Just don’t forget why we’re here, our people depend on us, now isn’t the time to pursue anyone.”

Tom stares at Andrew for a couple of seconds before lowering his gaze, realising that his brother is right, so he nods, “Oh right, I got something for you. It’s the vows.”

He passed the note to Andrew and the younger one read it quietly, “Well, I’ll be—You really sat down and composed this?” Andrew waves the paper around.

“Yes.”

“For her?”

“Yes.”

Andrew sighs hopelessly for Tom, “You have really dug yourself a hole you can’t escape.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

In the deep forest that extended into and over the mountains, dusk fell as the trees turned from cypress to oak. They went from being narrow to towering and majestic, and the woodland was full of thickets and scattered mossy boulders. Even though night was falling, it felt as if the woodland continued to breathe. You could taste something metallic on your tongue as the heated air buzzed around you.

Oscar had prepared a campfire where he was turning a couple of pheasants that were caught by the knights. Asha used it beforehand to warm some water for your feet mixed with imported epsom salt to relieve any aches and pains you might be feeling.

“Feeling a bit better? Princess?” Asha asked while she folded the hem of your skirt securely.

“Mhm.” You sighed relaxingly, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, would you like a little bit of massage?" She asks.

“Why don’t you take a break Lady Asha? I’ll keep the Princess company.” Tom took the opportunity to approach you before Stpehen could, seeing as he was about to make his way to you but was held up by the Commander.

Asha awaits your dismissal and you give her a slight nod, “I’ll be assisting Sir Isaac with dinner then.” She drops into a curtsy for the both of you before joining the others around the campfire.

“Princess, will you give me permission to have one of your legs?” Tom takes a seat on the ground.

“No, I need them both to walk. Thank you.” You casually answered in the need to alleviate the tension between the both of you.

Tom chuckled softly, "How much would The Xarean Princess' leg cost a humble knight like me?"

"Hmm, an estate?"

"Then I wouldn’t have a chance—how much for your heart then?" He chuckles and gently lifts your left leg, hands squeezed the crevices of your calf muscles to release any tension.

You elicit a soft giggle before you raise your gaze, only to be met with a serious set of eyes. You swallow the forming lump in your throat and you take your time to form an answer. At first you thought it was just a question for banter but after looking into his eyes—it feels like your answer mattered, "One’s time, effort, passion, and loyalty, Sir Hiddleston."

Tom’s lips curved up and nodded before switching to your other leg, “Is the pressure fine?”

“Yes.” You nodded and played with your fingers. You heard your brother singing a song with his cittern to entertain the people around the fire, making Tom twist around to check as well.

“Gather ‘round kids, for your Future King of Xarean is about to sing you a song.” James plucks the strings of the cittern and manages to get everyone’s attention.

“Your brother could sing?”

“He’s talented in many areas— but you might want to cover your ears. . .”

“There was an old lady who lived on Lick Street Her passage was blocked up from too much to eat She took stomach pills without reading the box Before she could strip, turds were flying like rocks.”

Andrew, who was in the middle of drinking a pint of ale, coughed up part of the liquid that got stuck in his larynx and spat out the rest of the liquid before he could swallow it. Oscar hastened his approach to the Eivengard Prince and smacked him across the back, therefore prompting him to continue his coughing.

“Toorala, tooralay A rolling stone gathers no moss, so they say Sing along, with the birds It's a wonderful song but it's all about turds.

She ran to the window, stuck out her ass Just at that moment a cowhand did pass He heard the strange noise, so he gazed up on high A mighty big turd hit him right in the eye.

Oh he ran to the east and he ran to the west When a further consignment arrived on his chest He fled to the north and he fled to the south When a bloody big turd hit him right in the mouth.

The next time you walk over Flatriver Bridge Look out for a cowhand asleep on the ridge His chest bears a placard, whereon are these words: ‘Be kind to a cowboy who's blinded by turds.””

The expressions on everyone from Eltham indicate that they had no idea how to respond, which is particularly notable given that food was being prepared in front of them at the same time. Meanwhile Andrew and Oscar had their heads turned away. Oscar prods Andrew's ribs—who was folded and on the verge of collapsing—to get a grip of himself. Andrew's laughter had turned into whimpers as he was trying so hard to contain them.

Tom very slowly turned his attention back to you with his head down, laughing.

You covered your mouth and turned your head away to laugh as well, “Eltham people are too genteel. . . Honestly.”

Tom huffed and tilted his head slightly to see you smiling, “Well. . . it is nice to see you smiling for a change.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“Dinner’s ready.” Oscar called for everyone to assemble themselves around the fire. Stephen led you over to the campfire and took a seat next to you while keeping a watchful eye on Tom, who was doing the same thing.

Sir Oscar carves the pheasant on a metal dish and serves it around to the other diners, along with the cheese and toasted bread.

“Princess, have the bird breast, it is much healthier to be eaten by pregnant women.” Tom made an attempt to pass you the other plate, however Stephen shoves his breast meat on your plate.

“She’s got some on her plate already, but I appreciate you offering," Stephen spoke to Tom before you could even think about saying anything in response to what Tom said. Stephen gives Tom an ill-feigned grin and then turns to you and says, "Eat."

You gave Tom a brief grin, and he understood precisely what it meant, which was that you were offering an apology for Stephen's behaviour. Stephen is aware of this, but he makes the decision to disregard it; in reality, he was trying to prevent the uncomfortable sensation in his gut from leading him to behave in an undesirable way.

“So who will be staying in the tent with the Princess?” Asha asks to break the icy silence around the camp.

“I will.” Stephen answered.

“No, I will.” Jamie butted in with a casual smile that Stephen can’t say no to.

"Can anyone pass me some water please?" You asked, lifting your cup.

Stephen and Tom stood up and raced to grab the jug, both taking a hold of it at the same time.

"Let go of the jug, Lieutenant. My bride is feeling parched." Stephen seethed through his gritted teeth.

"Your Highness, I respectfully request that you take a seat and allow me to do my job." Tom continued to argue while firmly drawing the jug closer to himself.

Jamie displays a smile that suggests he is somewhat amused. When he notices the annoyed expression on your face, he abruptly gets rid of his smile.

"Your duty is to maintain vigilance in this situation. However, turning your back on the Princess in such a manner? I must say you're awful at your work." Stephen used a little bit more force as he drew the jug closer to himself.

"Turning my back? I thought you were the expert on that?"

Andrew grimaces and shakes his head.

A quiet gasp came from you, you've had enough, "Enough! Both of you! Is it that hard to pass me the water?" You snapped and paused, "Lieutenant, I would advise that you bite your tongue and remember your place, the Prince might be an insolent person but he is still above your ranks."

Tom releases the jug and drops his head as he says, "My best apologies for causing you any distress, Princess."

Stephen scoffs, and at that point your attention turns to him.

"Stephen, you're a Prince and a father-to-be, you need to be mindful of your actions because right now, you can't even be considered as a good role model. A manchild raising another child isn't going to cut it—now will you please, pass me the water?"

Face slightly flushed after being scolded, Stephen went back to you and poured you some water.

"Thank you." You sighed and sat back down.

Silence looms in the camp once again. The glaring competition between Tom and Stephen not helping with the tension in the surrounding.

“Let’s finish up dinner and prepare to sleep. We shall continue our journey at sunrise.” Ben then shoved what’s left of the food on his plate, “And because Prince Stephen and Lieutenant Tom can’t take their eyes off each other, I say they should entertain us with a duel before we hit the sack.”

“Now that, I want to see.” James sits up the makeshift hammock then turns to Stephen, “How about, the winner gets to stay in the tent with my sister?”

“Jamie! What the hell? I am not a prize to be won.” You snapped at him. Jamie made a face to indicate that he wasn’t serious, only for you to roll your eyes.

“Well? Do both of you concur?” Ben looks at Stephen, then at Tom.

“Why not? I thought no one would ever ask." Stephen says as he begins to rise and strips away his jacket off of his shoulders and arms one at a time, all the while keeping eye contact with the Lieutenant.

Tom cocks his head side to side while prodding his tongue into the inside of his cheek. He then rises from the stump he was sitting on and shrugs his jacket off over his shoulders while asking, "What happens if one of us wins again?" Despite the fact that Tom could recall what Jamie had stated, he nevertheless raises the question.

“The winner gets to sleep inside the Princess’ tent, Lieutenant.” Oscar repeats and Tom nods.

“Well, I guess I better win then.” Tom takes a jab at Stephen with a smirk as they saunter forward to the open area.

Stephen's smile is forced and he can be seen to be clenching his teeth, “That is if you win. Your chances? Slim.” Stephen retorts by first unbuttoning his vest, and then the remainder of his top, thereby exposing his chiselled physique that is hidden under his uniform. It was bright enough that you could see the shifting muscles on Stephen's shoulders as he began swinging his arms before stretching his upper body. You gave Stephen a sidelong glance since you haven��t had the pleasure of seeing him half naked for a while—and the very feminine, innate part of you appreciated that. You didn't mind his half-nakedness, you had seen every inch of him.

Seeing as how Stephen was showing off, Tom was compelled to do the same. In a single fluid motion, he slipped his shirt over his head, exposing his broad back, muscled and scarred and glorious. He himself was a beautiful weapon, forged by centuries of ruthless training and warring. While you were struggling with your own thoughts, you sagged against the tree and listened as your brother piped up his impatience.

“C’mon lads! We want a duel, not a strip show.” Jamie rose up and tossed two long swords with its sheath attached towards the two men, who were able to catch it without any trouble.

Stephen reaches across his body with his right hand, grips the handle of his sword just below the guard, draws it out, snaps it forward so it’s pointing at Tom, the metal gleaming in the gentle moonlight, then places his left hand on the grip just below the right.

Tom does the same.

Both of them bend their knees, dropping into a low squat while keeping the torso bolt upright, then stand up again and shuffle their feet into the proper stance—feet parallel, both pointed straight ahead, right foot in front of the left foot.

Stephen pressed in with a series of low thrusts. Tom tried to back away quickly and return to even footing, but the relentless assault followed his every step, and he was forced to keep his movements solely on the defensive. More often than not, Tom found the hilts of his weapons closer to Stephen than the blades.

Stephen then dropped into a low crouch and came up under Tom's defence. Tom twirled his scimitars in a masterful cross, but he had to straighten stiffly to dodge Stephen's equally deft assault. Tom knew that he had been set up, and he fully expected the next attack as Stephen shifted his weight to his back leg and dove in, both sword tips aimed for his loins.

“Prick.” Tom muttered very quietly and spun his long sword into a downward cross, meaning to block out Stephen’s sword. On a sudden impulse, Tom hesitated as he intercepted Stephen’s weapon and jumped away instead.

“Stop holding back!” Stephen taunted him, taking a threatening step forward. Tom hesitated and Stephen charged, his sword leading.

Tom dropped to a crouch, to dodge the attack and rose to meet the assault. Stephen pressed furiously, snapping off cut after cut and backing Tom around in circles. Tom defended well enough and began to notice an all-too-familiar pattern of Stpehen’s attacks coming consistently lower.

Oscar glanced at Andrew who was well-focused on his brother, “Your brother is pulling his attacks.” Oscar whispered.

“Well yeah, you told us to hold back, remember?”

“Right. . . I forgot.”

Tom was ready for him. He executed the cross-down, smiling smugly at the ring of metal as his sword crossed over the thrusting of Stephen’s. Tom then followed through with only one of his blades, thinking he could deflect both of Stephen's swords well enough in that manner.

Tom spun it over in a devious counter. As soon as Tom switched the position of the one hand, Stephen recognised the con, which was a trick he had anticipated Tom would do. Tom managed to throw off his equilibrium while attempting to keep an equal resistance and retain his balance throughout the length of the blocking sword. Tom was able to get himself under control before he fell too far, but not before his knuckles had scraped up on the ground. He was still under the impression that he had Stephen well and well captured in his net and that he could proceed with his great counterattack. To restore his equilibrium, he moved one foot forwards and made a little step.

Stephen made a direct descent to the ground, dodging the path of Tom's swinging sword, and then performed a single rotation, bringing his booted heel into contact with the back of Tom's kneecap. Before Tom was even aware that he was being attacked, he found himself laying on his back in a helpless position.

“Ooooooh.” The audience reacted to Tom's fall. You on the other hand kept a neutral expression because you thought all of this was unnecessary—even though you were anxious on who will win and by the looks of it, Stephen has the upper hand.

Stephen ceased his forwards motion suddenly and flung his feet back. Before Tom had time to process the confusing counterattack, the Eltham Prince was towering over him, the blade of his sword painfully and pointedly pressed against Tom’s neck as he extracted a tiny drop of blood to appease the dislike he felt towards the Lieutenant.

"Have you anything to say?” Stephen asks, huffing through his nostrils, his opponent who made no attempt to answer him but with another annoying smile. Stephen threw his sword to the ground and turned back to grab his clothing.

"I changed my mind, I would much prefer to sleep in the bigger tent," Jamie stands up, offering you a hand, inviting you to come along with him, "Good night!"

Tom chuckles as he rose to his feet, Stephen’s victory was all for nothing, "Have you anything to say? Your Highness?"

Stephen shoots him a glare, "Oh do shut up."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

It was a quiet night. A gentle breeze blew with an occasional smell of spring in it. The air was just right, cool and fresh. A gentle voice, mesmerising, disturbed you from your slumber, beckoning. It was difficult to pin-point where the voice is coming from but the more you focused on it, the more you felt compelled to follow it. You took a lit candle and placed it inside a lantern.

Without a second thought, you walk out of your tent, carefully stepping through around the camp where people were sleeping. By accident, one step you took led to a deafening 'CRUNCH'. You froze in place and whipped your head around to check if anyone had woken up. You saw Stephen stir in his sleep, arms crossed. A few seconds passed of every one remaining asleep and you started to walk down an old, endless, grey path, scattered with leaves and long twigs—you were sure this path wasn't there before.

The further you went into the forest the more frightened you got. You thought you could feel people behind you, but when you looked back, not a soul was there. As the path reached deeper into the mysterious woods, your lantern flickered. The tall trees, which were masked by shadows, towered over you, almost like they were watching every step you took. All was silent. No bird chirp, no howl of the wind. Walking down a beaten down path, you stop and smell the air. You started to smell a type of flower, the smell was so strong that you started to get a headache. Soon enough you found yourself by a pond next to the willow tree. Where the pool water and the breeze are dancing, the moonlight is sprinkled on the pool surface. Carefully you lowered yourself by the pond shore, dipping your feet inside the cool water.

"Princess (Y/N)." The mystical voice spoke behind you, you whip around. An orb descending down from the heavens caught your attention, slowly it revealed its form, covered fully by a white cloak it levitated in midair, golden halo providing light in the dark forest.

“Who are you?” You asked, your hand automatically going across to grab a dagger that wasn’t there.

“Fear not for I am Oshtur, Elder God, Giver of Justice—and I have come to pass on an important message. Listen very well.”

“Oshtur?”

“The arrival of a period of darkness is imminent. In this mystical region, where there are few practitioners of the mystical arts, you won't have a chance to survive the vengeance of Chthon even if you try. My mother, Gaea, has chosen you to be the bearer of her gifts since we are unable to directly meddle with the life of a Terran. During your lifetime, you will be blessed with four children. Your offspring will be endowed with the power that is the complete antithesis of the destructive force that Chthon has. Teach your children the values your mother and father has taught you, as well as how to control the magic that they will inherit from Me, Hoggoth, Saturnyne and the All Seeing."

"B-But I'm not very well versed in the mystical arts; how could I possibly teach them to do magic?" You ask the Elder God.

"The power of the mystical arts endures forever and will re-emerge at a certain point in the future. When the Crown Princes ascend to their thrones, you will have more than enough people at your side to assist you. However, in order to come out victorious from this war, you will need to be open to the possibility of broadening your perspective and seeing things that go beyond the scope of what your mind can conceive. Do you think you have the courage to do that?"

"Y-yes. I believe so."

"Then (Y/N), daughter of Lucien the Ruthless, kneel before me for I will bestow you the greatest gift a Terran shall ever receive, you shall not speak a word of this to anyone," You got to your feet, and then you knelt back down in front of the God, bending your knees and bowing your head, "Are you ready to give up who you once thought you were?"

"I-I am."

"Ready to sacrifice everything you have or think you know?"

"I am."

"Are you ready to leave your mortal life behind and walk the path of the mystic realms?"

"I am."

"Then out of the light, you will come into the dark—and from the dark, you will return to the light," The God's staff tapped your shoulder from your left, to your right, "Never forget the tenets you have sworn to uphold. Use these powers to protect the innocent, to protect those who walk the righteous path. From this day forward, you are the mother of The Vishanti." Oshtur's spirit flew towards and through you, power so overwhelming causing you to collapse onto the ground to your side.

From the thickness of the woods, Tom has been watching you the whole time talk to an entity he couldn't see and when he saw you fall to the ground, he rushed towards you, "(Y/N)!"

Tom carefully placed your head on his lap, his hands swiping your hair off of your face, "Princess! (Y/N)! Wake up!" Tom taps your face and when you don't respond, he tries to think of a way to get you back to camp without looking suspicious—and the only thing that comes to mind was to shapeshift as your brother.

Green light glows as Tom transforms himself into Jamie from top to bottom and he carries you back to the camp. He shouldn't be using magic because the enemy will be able to track its scent, however, this was the simplest trick in the book.

"Prince James?" Stephen woke from his sleep and while his vision cleared, he saw that you were in your brother's arms, "What are you doing up this late?"

Tom halted and cursed under his breath and with his best impression of Prince’s James subtle Xareanite accent, he said,"My sister couldn't sleep and wanted some fresh air. . . Pay no attention, brother, all is well."

Tom proceeded inside your tent with Stephen eyeing him suspiciously especially when the Prince referred to him as 'brother'.

Jamie was sleeping soundly facing the wall of the tent as Tom carefully laid you back down. He lightly traces his knuckles on your cheek which pulls you back to your consciousness and your eyes slowly flutter open.

"J-Jamie? What are you doing?" You asked in a raspy voice.

Tom hushed you, "You're okay. Go have some more rest, there isn't any sign of sunlight yet."

You were too tired to even question how you got back, maybe it was a dream and you were stirring in your sleep hence why Jamie's brotherly senses got up to console you.

"I had the strangest dream, Jamie." You mumble with your eyes closed, "Oshtur, an Elder God, visited me in my dreams."

"Strange indeed."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Present

As soon as you arrive at the estate in Autumn Shores, you and Stephen have been separated from opposite wings as part of their tradition that you shall not see each other for three days.

Like all those who came before you and Stephen the wedding was to happen at Autumn Shores Cathedral which is built near the coastline of Eltham. Alcina Lazarescu was in charge of decorating it and you know that she wasn't going to disappoint. Invitations have been sent before you even slept the day the King had ordered for all this to be arranged. Dukes, Viscounts, Barons and Aristocrats from all over Eltham and Xarean will be there to witness this sacred ceremony.

While King Dorian, Queen Meera, and Stephen are in the courtyard sipping some wine and preparing their son Stephen for the ceremony, the Prince's mind is somewhere else entirely. The guidance of King Dorian gradually fades into the background hum.

"What seems to be the problem darling?" Queen Meera asked the Prince who snapped out of his trance.

Stephen inhales and breathily says, "Well. . .right now I'm experiencing a very odd feeling—it’s. . . It’s like a fat man is sitting on my chest—not a pleasant experience, if I must say."

The Queen softly chuckles, "And when does that occur?"

"Well er—"

"When the Princess is with your presence?" King Dorian joins into the conversation between mother and son.

"Yes—Well, actually lately, ever since you appointed that new Lieutenant, instead of waiting for Peter to finish his training as Royal Knight. I don't know what she sees in that oaf, Thomas."

"Oh Stephen, you're jealous." Queen Meera covers her mouth as she giggles.

Stephen whips his head towards his mother's direction and almost stands up in protest and laughs as if his mother said something so disgusting, "Mother, I do not get jealous."

"If you say so, my love. . . I must say, she looked like she was getting along well with him during her afternoon walk this evening." Queen Meera informs her son with raised brows and sips on her wine.

"I think that's his plan. He's trying to get her to be on the fence between the two of us." Stephen nods at his own accusations.

"And how does that make you feel?" King Dorian questions as he and his wife exchange glances.

Stephen furrows his brows, eyes lighting up as he realises, "Like I need to tip the scales to my favour. . .show her which side the grass is greener."

"Yes," Queen Meera slightly agrees but it wasn't the answer she was wanting her son to say, "But why do you think you need to do that?"

"Because as her future husband, it's my duty to save her from making a terrible mistake." Stephen answered proudly, "Though I am highly suspicious of him, I can't get rid of that man because inexplicable as it is, the princess looks like she actually cares for him, and breaking her heart again, isn't the goal."

"You sound like you're on the right path son but at the same time you're not. . . What is your goal?"

"For the Princess to realise that she needs to pick me over that blithering clod, Thomas Hiddleston!"

King Dorian stifles a laugh then clears his throat after seeing Stephen shocked that his father, the all too serious man, laughing, "I've never seen a man get under your skin so well, son. I must say it's rather entertaining."

Stephen frowns, why is he not surprised, of course his father finds his crisis entertaining.

"So. . . how's your hunt for this so-called 'Daeva' going?" King Dorian changes the subject when Stephen seems unamused.

"What do you think father? I've been busy being dragged here and there for this wedding. How am I supposed to go hunting?" Stephen rises from his chair and turns to look out into the arches that overlook the beach.

"Well. . .as much as I hate to admit it, you might be right." King Dorian sighs. Stephen whips back around, face turning pale as he remembers the horror that the mercenary told him in a grotesque detail, "We can only assume that Eivengard and Yelenet are the two main catalysts of this."

"Are there reports of killings within our country?" Stephen asks, expression growing dark with worry.

"A few. . . And I'm going to need you to investigate how to defeat this creature."

"My King, your son is about to get married, he can’t leave his wife straight after." Queen Meera objects, "Sending our son to do such a dangerous task—I will not accept it."

"My Queen, I am not suggesting that he goes straight after. He can have four days to spend time with his wife. Addition to that, they've already conceived a child. They've consummated this marriage well before they got married." King Dorian shrugged and Stephen almost laughed. If he accepts this, it's basically a suicide mission and the fact that you're already carrying Stephen’s heir gives his father less reasons to be worried about keeping their bloodline. How cruel.

"In one condition, I get to choose the men that accompany me."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

"A sterling for your thoughts, Princess?" Tom dips his head to catch your attention while he keeps you company by crystal white sands of Autumn Shore.

You opened your mouth and then clamped it shut before you could even spill exactly what was in your mind. You wanted to word it where it wasn’t going to sound absurd. Your gaze swept over Tom. He wore the black tunic and breeches that all guards wore under their armour. He was patiently waiting for you to reply to him.

“Don’t judge me but the night before we arrived here, I had a very vivid dream,” You say, easing into it, trying not to sound crazy, “The Elder God, Oshtur, came to me and told me a message—or a warning.”

Tom stepped in front of you and lifted his hands, gripping both sides of your arm, “Firstly, I will never judge you, Princess. Second, whatever it is that you share with me is strictly confidential and will not be relayed to anybody else under any circumstances, unless you specifically give me permission to do so. You have my word.” Tom’s voice was deep and husky, it rumbled through you, all the way to the tips of your toes. He had a slight accent, an almost musical lilt to his tone.

“The only thing I'm able to state is that the elder god advised me that a dark season is upon us, and that the usage of magic would be extremely valuable for us at this time.” You say to Tom as sadness threatened to take up residence in your chest, crowding the warmth.

Tom paused to think for a moment and then a half-smile appeared, lifting his fingers towards your face this time, his thumb tenderly stroking across your cheek, “Would you like to see a little secret, Your Highness?”

You nodded, dampening your lower lip with your tongue, you felt dizzy and even a little faint, and you never felt faint. Those impossibly thick lashes lowered, and his gaze was so intent on your mouth that it was like a caress. Tom's warm palms left your cheek, and then he put his hand between the two of you. Almost immediately, gorgeous fireworks erupted out of his palm, lighting up the night with a gentle radiance.

A flicker of amusement crossed your features and lifted your brows, “You can conjure magic? H-How?”

“A magician never reveals his tricks.” Tom playfully sends a wink to you.

“I guess that confirms that you Eivengardians do use magic.”

“Yes,” Tom plants his palms over your cheeks once more, “Hence why you should not worry.”

“Who are you?” You rasped out, squinting your eyes at the man.

“A Man who swore an oath to be your protector, Princess.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“Your Majesty, wake up for you shall be wedded today.” Lady Lazarescu walked into your room and headed straight for the curtains, opening them to allow the bright sunlight in. The maids came in right after carrying trays of food and setting it up onto your bed as you sat yourself up, blinded by the sunlight.

“Is it too late to run away?” You joked with the Lady and thanked the maids for bringing you your favourite breakfast, scones with butter and jam.

“A Princess does not—”

“Run away from her royal duties, I know, Lady Alcina, I know.” You finished off her sentence from her as you spread butter on the scone and jam on the other, “It was just a joke, but I can’t believe even a wedding is considered a duty? I thought weddings are supposed to be sacred.”

“Straight after breakfast, you shall come and have a bath. Queen Eleine has chosen the jewels you will be wearing in your wedding as well as your crown.” Alcina, ignores your comments and claps her hands and Asha walks in with two of your other Ladies in waiting, carrying your wedding gown.

Mother of Hoggoth, that train is long.

“I don’t remember the train of my gown being that long.” You furrow your brows while the ladies just kept delicately pulling and pulling and pulling it in.

“Oh Princess, you should know by now that in Eltham wedding tradition, the longer the train, the longer your marriage will be. Hence why I firmly requested that he make it longer.” Alcina smiled and you couldn’t help but just pinch the bridge of your nose.

After breakfast, you went with almost the same routine you go through everyday but today, the only difference is that they put in so much more attention to detail in preparing you. They cleaned you from head to your toe, made sure that there isn’t a single knot in your hair, Alcina tortured you with the pain of doing your hair to the point you were almost tearing up.

“Lady Lazarescu, one single strand of hair better not go astray the whole day, considering how painful it is styling it.” You warned the Lady and she chuckled confidently.

“Not one single hair will go astray, my dear. I am Lady Lazarescu.”

By the time she finished with your hair, you felt like your hairline has receded due to the amount of force she was using with your hair. You stood up in your robe, cradling your child bump while your ladies helped you get inside them.

“I am warning you now, tighten the dress gently and be mindful of my stomach, I will not have my child be pressed and squeezed.” You firmly stated while looking at the ladies through the reflection of the mirror—having to be poked and prodded has turned your mood slightly sour. Luckily, they did as they’re told and Alcina did not argue with you when you ordered that the tightness was enough.

You stare into the mirror wearing your Eltham styled wedding dress, "I look like a cake topper. . . Is this dress designed so that the bride won't be able to run away?" You commented with a chuckle as Lady Lazarescu adjusted the crown onto your head.

"No and maybe. You look ravishing, Your Majesty." Alcina disagrees, "and you will take everyone's breath away the moment you walk down that aisle with your father." She hands you a cascade bouquet of fully bloomed white roses before adjusting your shoulders, "Beautiful."

Alcina claps once again, "Alright everyone, let's get the Princess into the carriage!"

It took six ladies, including Asha to assist you down the never ending staircases of the estate, considering the ridiculously long train you had to drag on. Everyone in the household that remains are all women since it is their tradition that men— apart from your family members— aren’t allowed to lay their eyes upon you until your future husband does the moment you walk in the cathedral.

Your Father awaits you at the landing of the entrance and instantly you feel tears pooling in your eyes for not seeing him for so long—he looks like he's lost a bit of weight as well.

"Father?" You called to him as you tried to increase your pace down the stairs with six of your Ladies.

Lucien turns around and smiles as he steps forward, helping you down the rest of the way, "My word, look at you. My daughter."

You shoved yourself to Lucien and gave him a tight hug, "I missed you so much. Why do you appear thinner?"

"Being a King can take a toll on your ageing father." Lucien wraps his arms around you protectively and carefully plants a kiss on your forehead.

"Are you sick?"

"Now is not the time to discuss such things. It's your wedding day and we need to get you to the Cathedral," Lucien avoids your question and leans closer to whisper in your ear, "And that lady looks like she's going to explode if we don't get you there in time."

You notice Lucien pointedly glancing towards Alcina who was fanning her fan furiously and you chuckle, "She’s the one that organised everything."

"Ah. . .well, shall we?" Lucien offers you a hand and then proceeds to lead you into the golden carriage designed with floral embellishments, while the Seal of Eltham is embellished on the door.

Lucien was still able to lift you into the carriage despite his slightly gaunt appearance then the ladies folded your train delicately after Lucien had entered after you.

"How are you and Stephen getting along after his failed affair?" Lucien asks just as the carriage moves forward.

You look down and shake your head, "I don't know. . . Things aren't the same anymore. I wanted to get away from him but then those mysterious attacks happened and they prevented me from going home."

"I can only imagine how hard it must be for you, daughter. Eltham’s Kingdom and our Empire owe you." Lucien smiled faintly, as if he knows something you don’t, “You prove time and time again that you are resilient and strong. For that, you have made me a proud father.”

You blink off the sting that formed within your eyes, “You honour me too much, father. Thank you. It feels really good to hear that.”

“Promise me you will never change that about you and teach your children the same.” You didn't like the way Lucien was speaking to you since it seemed like he was giving you his parting wisdom, so all you could do was nod softly as he firmly maintained your gaze, “I also had a dream, or I suppose it was a vision...given the fact that your spouse has pure Eldritch blood flowing through his veins, I am going to presume that this dream is about you.”

You snap your eyes up and ask, "Dreamt of what?"

“A Prince adorned with a crown made of levitating obsidian, seated in an open throne hall that included a big, magical white oak tree that served as his throne and the sculptures of five older gods carved into the pillars of the hall. It's possible that it's simply my mind running wild since I have no idea what to make of it.” Lucien shakes his head, it bothers him because he never dreams—or if he does, he doesn’t remember them after he wakes.

“I see, it’s probably just wishful thinking that perhaps you want me to have a son?” You forced a fake smile, you didn’t feel comfortable telling your father about your own vision due to the fact that you never worshipped Eltham Gods.

Your father chuckles, “Hm. Possibly—oh before I forget.” Lucien reached inside his pocket and revealed a two layered necklace with diamonds and rubies as the main stones.

"Wear this. It's my gift to you." Lucien leaned forward and removed the diamond necklace and replaced it with his, "I'll return this to that Lady when we arrive at the Cathedral."

"It's a beautiful necklace Father, thank you." You give your father a gentle grin before bowing to him. Lucien sneaks a peek outside while listening to the sounds of the wind and the water through the window. The Cathedral is situated close to the clifftop facing the direction in which the morning light first appears. Your father casts another glance in your direction before slowly drawing the veil over your face.

"Last chance to run away." Lucien says in a low and serious tone, despite the fact that you were aware that he was kidding.

"A Princess does not run away from Royal Duties, as per Lady Lazarescu." You reply, earning a sincere chuckle from Lucien.

"I'm proud of you," The moment Lucien grasps your hand and squeezes it, the carriage comes to an immediate and complete halt. The coachman blows his trumpets to alert everyone that you have arrived, "Father goes out first, I wouldn't want you to trip on the fabric."

"Right? This dress is a tripping hazard though it's beautiful."

Along with the extra ladies in wait, your father effortlessly carried you out of the carriage—You were glad to discover that your father, while seeming to have lost weight, was still as strong as four muscular men when he carried you like that.

It was clear that this wedding was not going to be like any other. The moment the doors of the cathedral were opened, you were astounded to see a large number of individuals from a diverse range of backgrounds. They did not glance in your direction until they were ordered to do so by the archbishop. The opening to the bridal chorus began to be played by the orchestra. Down the aisle you came.

As you and your father went down the long aisle elegantly, your ladies in wait carried your long train as you walked. Stephen adjusted his posture and stared at you while clenching and unclenching his fists anxiously.

Tom hesitated but he eventually turned like the rest and looked at you and he couldn’t look away there after, he stared at you as if you were a miracle, his cool composure disrupted by a faint flush of emotion. You kept your eyes on the ground, not a hint of smile on the corners of your lips under the mist of your maiden veil, with your arms full of white roses. He could not believe how beautiful you are. You wore a long sleeve wedding gown with embroidery on your bodice. Rhinestones and pearl beads were sewn on your gown. How lucky is this man who doesn’t even appreciate you enough to write his own vows? There was the shadow of sorrow, and it was radiating from you and Tom knew that it would always be there.

You reach the altar where King Lucien passed on your hand to Stephen with piercing eyes that implied, ‘You’ll be dealing with me the next time you mess with her’

Stephen then straightened his posture even more, both arms tucked neatly to his sides and bowed his head to your father in a manner that is traditional for Xareanites. After that, he got down on one knee in front of you and bowed his head once again. It was a gesture that you didn't anticipate him performing, and Lucien gave a little nod of approval before taking the seat next to his wife on the side of the Cathedral where most of your family sat.

In the beginning of the ceremony, the archbishop anointed both you and Stephen with holy oil, first on your hearts and then on your heads. This was done so that the sins committed while the couple was single may be forgiven. Following the anointing of you, the Archbishop proceeded to deliver a dreadfully dull sermon for the next half an hour on the principles of marriage and love. Every time you felt yourself about to yawn, you were required to clench your jaw and stare down at the ground at the same time. Stephen was aware of this, and he did his best to keep a serious expression in order to avoid upsetting the archbishop.

“First, I am required to ask anyone present who knows a reason why these people may not lawfully marry, to declare it now.” The Archbishop begins and the whole cathedral remains quiet. Though, seated on the seat on your side of the hall, Tom firmly clamped his mouth shut.

The Archbishop speaks again but towards the both of you, “The vows you are about to take are to be made in the presence of our God, Oshtur, who is judge of all and knows all the secrets of our hearts; therefore if either of you knows a reason why you may not lawfully marry, you must declare it now,” When you and Stephen remain quiet, The Archbishop turns to Stephen, “Stephen Vincent Strange of Eltham, will you take (Y/F/N) of Xarean to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?”

Stephen swallows while he lightly squeezes your hand, “I will.”

“You may speak your vows to her now.” The Archbishop gives permission for the Prince to say his vows to you. The ring bearer goes up to the altar and bends down on one knee, giving the Archbishop the ring to be blessed while Stephen pulls the piece of paper he’s been keeping inside his pocket and unfolds it. Both Andrew and Tom exchange looks, both of them well aware that Stephen was not the one who was tasked with composing those vows.

"(Y/N), today, I give you all that I am, and all that I have—My time, effort, passion and loyalty. Just as I give you my hand to hold today, I give you my heart, my faith, my life. I’m choosing you today. And I will choose you again tomorrow. I would go on choosing you the day after, and every day for the rest of our lives. You are my once-in-a-lifetime.

I pledge this solemn vow to protect you from harm always. I’ll stand in the storm with you against your troubles. You have made me feel more loved than I ever thought possible. I love you with my whole heart with a passion that can't be expressed in words, only in kisses, glances, and years of adventure by your side. I love you and I will always carry you in my heart."

You listen intently at the words that were coming out of his mouth, and though he may sound sincere, the fact that it didn’t come from his heart was too obvious for you. And when he mentioned the words, time, effort, passion and loyalty, your stomach dropped because there was only one person who you had spoken to about it. Your head moved then without any command from your brain. When you turned to look at Tom, you saw that his attention was completely focused on you. You felt a shudder go all the way down your spine. You could have sworn that you saw a hint of amusement in his blue eyes as he cocked his head to the side in a sign of recognition, and he bowed his head slightly.

Stephen slides your ring in your finger and you sigh quietly and your mouth goes dry, Stephen didn’t write this. These statements had no significance for him whatsoever.

“(Y/F/N) of Xarean, will you take Stephen Vincent Strange of Eltham to be your husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?”

Before letting go of the response that would permanently bind you to Stephen, you took a few seconds to calm yourself and take a big breath, “I will.”

“You may speak your vows to him now.” The Archbishop takes Stephen’s ring and does the same thing.

You reach into your sleeves and remove the piece of paper on which you had written, and then, with a heavy feeling in your chest, you read the following words aloud, "Stephen, without reservation, I promise to love you. In times of distress, I will comfort you. If you have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, I’ll be standing shoulder-to-shoulder with you. It’s my utmost pleasure to say I do, I will and always will. You have the core of my heart beating for you, a love beyond what a metaphor can express. To achieve your goals, I’ll encourage you. Grow with you, laugh with you, cry with you and be all yours. In body, soul, and spirit till the end of time."

The archbishop hands you the ring and you slide it on Stephen’s finger. You were able to gather your thoughts in plenty of time before Stephen lifted the veil, thanks to the fact that the veil conceals how forlorn you were behind it.

“In the presence of our Elder Gods, and before this congregation, Stephen and (Y/N) have given their consent and made their marriage vows to each other. They have declared their marriage by the joining of hands and by the giving and receiving of rings. I therefore proclaim that they are husband and wife.” The Archbishop pauses and looks at Stephen with a nod, “Your Highness, you may now kiss your bride.”

Stephen took the hem of your veil and carefully lifted it over your crown, breath held without thinking, the suspended air caught at the top of his throat like a minute grasped instead of recklessly spent.

Stephen tilts his head as he leans in with a soft serene expression with eyes rolled back under tilted lids. The faintest hint of white behind trembling lashes, his lips ever-so slightly parted, fluttering and tingling just past your lips. A hint of pressure, then a soft, warm exhale ending in an almost imperceptible hum. He kissed you like how you wanted to be kissed, like no man had ever kissed you, soft and moist and hot and breathy, not trying to win a battle but seeking union and closeness and the sharing of one breath, one sensation, one timeless and passionate moment. The heat rose in your cheeks as his tongue touched came in contact with yours, quick and electric and delicious, then firmer, more determined, more curious about the heat that lay within, seeking to chase down that elusive liquid lightning that reached through him.

The Cathedral erupts in applause. King Dorian and King Lucien nod at each other, from opposite sides while their wives wipe the tears of joy that dared to trickle down from their eyes. Tom refrained from his applause not because he didn’t want to celebrate, but because after you gave him that sad glance of realisation, he instantly felt guilty for replacing the previous vows for a new one.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Six-Seven Months ago

You were standing by the window. Your silhouette in the moonlight looks especially enchanting. You're wearing nothing but a long, white nightgown with a sweetheart neckline. It has been a hard day after you got attacked by a rebel in your stroll in the plaza during the afternoon. Out of pure anger, Peter almost beat the man into a pulp for harassing you in the eyes of the public—and yet you had been kind enough to stop Peter and show the man mercy by letting him go.

Tomorrow will be the day Stephen, along with the kept secret Sorcerer Knights will go away for their ‘expedition’ when in fact it’s the competition for the secret ranks, where Peter will compete for one of the Eltham Rings. You weren’t sure how long they’ll be gone but you sure will miss Peter’s presence following you all the time, apart from Asha, you’ve grown very close to the lad.

You hear the gentle creaking of your door opening, you turn to see Stephen, eyes solely focused on you as he carefully closes the door behind him. He saunters towards you with an unfaltering stare and stops when he's merely inches apart from you.

"Stephen, do you need anything?" You ask softly, surprised to see him visit you very late in the night unannounced.

Stephen comes up to you and hugs you. His hands are on the small of your back, gently kissing your neck, “No, I just came to see if you’re alright.” He leans back with eyes tenderly looking at you.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me.”

“How can I not worry about you when there are reports that you’ve been attacked by some random rebel?”

“Peter beat him pretty good didn’t he?” You hide your arm behind you to hide the bruise the man left on your wrist when he grabbed your arm so tightly. Stephen gently pulled your arm up and raised his brows at you when he saw the bruise, “It’s just a bruise.”

“No it’s not,” Stephen wets his lips and heaves a sigh, “I will be gone for god knows how long this competition will take—”

You place a comforting hand on his cheek, “I know how to defend myself Stephen, I was just caught off guard in the market because I’ve grown very accustomed to someone defending me—It’s a lesson for me not to be complacent.”

Stephen twitches a smile and leans against your touch. It's like this moment of total admiration. You look up at him and he’s looking at you with such intent. Your heart stops and you just know that in that moment you feel as though you’re the only thing that matters in the entire world to him. The gravity of his lips are inescapable.

Those dreamy eyes stare at yours, and you watch as they gradually move downward until they rest on your lips. You see him rapidly peek back up in the hopes of regaining his composure and avoiding giving anything away. The look of vulnerability. As hard as he tries to keep his eyes off your lips, he can’t, which fully exposes how he is feeling and what he is planning to do. He slowly starts to glance up and down , eyes to lips, and doing so he can’t help but slowly and patiently fall closer and closer to you. He takes his time because he knows he only has one chance to make it right. Right before he reaches your lips he stops, as if there was any chance of turning back now. He stops, maybe waits to see if you make the final move, but once he realises you won’t he lowers in and plants the perfect kiss.

He kissed you gently at first, but he couldn't resist. He pressed his tongue between your lips and into your mouth. He brushed the tip of it along his teeth and then met his tongue. His tongue pressed back. Soon, the kisses grew fierce, and you nibbled on each other's lips and sucked on one another's tongues.

Stephen’s right hand slides off your sleeves with ease and nimbly, he pulls on the ribbon in the front and steps back a little, causing both of your sleeves to fall down rapidly, sliding easily over the velvety skin, exposing your beautiful breasts. You look upto Stephen without saying anything, gently put your arms around his neck and lean into him. He feels your warm breath on his lips, and immediately he caresses your slightly moist lips with his thumb. His other hand runs down your back and down to your plump ass, squeezing them a little, and pulling you even closer to him. Stephen was intoxicated by your scent, and he dips back down to kiss you. Stephen takes you in his arms, you are light and almost weightless as he brings you over to your bed, your arms wrapped around his neck.

Stephen lowers you with ease onto the silk sheets of the huge bed, and he sinks down after you and continues kissing you with a hickey. His hands are already insistently caressing your breasts. He moves his lips lower and covers your neck with small kisses, listening to your soft sighs. The descent was very leisurely, and now he caressed two luxurious mounds with his lips, running his tongue over your nipples, nibbling them lightly and in turn you stroked his back gently and letting him know with your angelic voice that you really like this sensation. Stephen runs his tongue along the line from your chest to your belly button, going around it in a circle a couple of times and going further to his cherished goal. The only barrier standing in his way is the one that separates you and him from incredible pleasure. Stephen pulls your dress down towards him, seeing you eye to eye while he undresses you completely.

The last barrier has fallen and you can now feel completely free, his future queen, a beautiful view opens up. You are completely defenceless in front of him, but you don't mind it at all and keep surrendering your boundaries, wanting to be his without reserve. You just can't be prepared for that. Stephen leans down between your legs and plants a kiss on your sensitive bud.

A loud, passionate moan comes from your lips, “Oh my—S-Stephen.”

With your left hand you take his head, and with your right hand you forcefully squeeze the silk sheet. His tongue stroked your clit while his fingers dipped inside your body, thrusting in a fast and hard rhythm that made your hands bear down further on the sheets as you sought to get yourself into a better position for him as he continued to bend himself so that his face was planted solidly in your cunt.

His tongue played with your clit, moving around it in slow circles that he alternated with long back and forth sweeps that caused you to groan and shudder. The mattress met your back and your legs hiked up higher into the air.

Stephen blew air across your wet flesh causing your inner walls to clenched and opened as sensation spiked and washed through your body. Your moans are becoming more and more frequent, and slowly turn into screams and he smirks to himself, “Save your voice, Princess I’ll be making you sing more than once tonight.” He was driving you crazy with his tongue and his fingers but you wanted more.

Pleasure crested and rolled through you, making your inner thighs shake and your toes curl. Your fingers went from the sheets to his hair as your ass shot off the mattress and your back arched while you sought to get even closer to the source of your exquisite torment.

"I'm going to come," you pointed out. Juices spilled down your inner folds, wetting your lips and his face. The smell of your body, fragrant and sensual, rode the air. The sound of his fingers thrusting into you and the slurping sound he occasionally made all added heat to that moment. You gasped and cried out, lustily and loudly, as that heat and friction combined to send you flying into climax, one so strong that your walls clamped shut on his fingers.

You raise yourself over the bed, tell him it's his turn, your sexy commanding voice drives him crazy. You fumbled with his pants. The draw strings were very discreetly placed on the inside, and you folded back the waistband and tried to loosen the knots. When they were undone you pushed him off of you and pulled his pants from him.

His cock was already hard from your excited kisses. It stood tall and erect, begging for your attention. You very gently bent down and put it in your mouth. He tasted delicious, like masculine sweat and metal armour. You slid your tongue along the base and back up to the tip, your entire mouth engulfing him. Your delicate hands grabbed at his balls, and he moaned out in delight, a very sexy and manly groan.

“Oh God.”

You looked up at his face and saw that his head was thrown back. With delight you continue to suck on him. Up and down, letting it flatten your tongue and hit the back of your throat. His hands pulled at your hair, guiding you along his shaft. His legs seemed to twitch on either side of you, and you knew he was pleased.

He then put each hand on your waist and pulled you to your feet. He picked you up gently, as if you weighed no more than a raven's feather. You threw your arms around his neck and kissed him violently. He kissed you back with just as much hunger—better yet he was trying to top you. He placed you back on the bed, breaking the kiss. He smiled down at you before leaning down and kissing you deeply, teasing the outside of your sensitive sex with the head of his cock. He tenderly rubbed your sex with his own, send shivers along your limbs.

You impatiently pushed him off of you, rolling him onto his back, “Enough teasing, my Prince. Haven’t you prepared me for you enough?”

You jumped on top of him straddling his hips between your legs. Quickly you forced him inside you, feeling his length and girth stretch your tender insides.

“Shit,” You cried out and he shuttered beneath you. You sat up and began to ride him. You moved forward and back, feeling him press against your inner walls and penetrate your very core.

“F-fuck,” Stephen groaned a swear word causing you to widen your eyes in shock but at the same time found it hot the way your Prince said it. He put his hands around your waist to support your fierce movements.

He bucked under you like a horse as you rode him with womanly expertise, the bed creaking and shaking along with your rough movements. Together you moaned, enjoying the exquisite pleasure that assaulted both of you.

“You like that? Prince Stephen?” You moved faster, forcing your body forward and back, and lifting yourself up so he could feel you pulling him in and out of you.

“No, I fucking love it.” It very quickly became too much for him to handle. Each time both of you fucked, it just keeps getting better and better, your perfect movements soon turned into animalistic thrusts and pounding, and he pulled your hips to force you to move even faster. You cried out, and finally he forced you into him, penetrating you deeper than he ever had before.

You were all sweaty, and so was he. Your sweet sweat was on his lips as he caressed your neck and chest. Your strength was running low after riding so wildly. Stephen laid you on your back and wasted no time to bury himself back into you, his cock lengthened, hardened as he inch by inch, he pushed forward and stretched you again with his girth, and the mingling of their heavy breathing and kissing with the sound of bodies coming together filled your ears. Your heartbeat outrageously, and as you wrapped your legs around his waist to urge him deeper, and he shoved himself in until he bottomed out. It took you over the edge, and you screamed with the release as it shot through your veins like a flood of hot lava, racking you with convulsions.

Stephen made a strangled noise, and as you started to recover, you could see the strain on his face as he started to thrust with a frantic rhythm and tried to hold back. But you couldn't stop the way your cunt squeezed and gripped at him, your orgasm lasting longer than you thought possible as you reached for his arms and dug your nails into them. You felt like you needed to hang on for dear life or you would float away on your cloud of bliss.

But he moved faster and with greater intensity, and you knew he was going to find his own satisfaction soon. You wanted to feel it, wanted to feel the spasm course through his body as he filled you, and you arched back, letting him find an angle that ripped another release from you and had you writhing with the pleasure of it.

“Yes, yes, yes—”Your moans were stupefying him more and more and he felt that his own end was near. He pounded into you, his face a mask of need, and when he erupted, he roared, pressing deep into you and digging his fingers into your hips, holding you steady. He poured into you. The warm, thick cum filled you completely. Stephen couldn't contain his ecstasy, he gasped, pampered with pleasure.

Stephen fell on top of your convulsing body, pressing his dark haired head against the crook of your neck. He wrapped his arms around you and felt you breathe deeply, trying hard to catch your breath. When your breathing returned to normal he lifted his head and kissed the scar on your eyebrow. His lips felt like gentle butterfly wings, and you quickly embraced them with your own. You kissed long and passionately mourning the moment refusing to release each other.

“You want to go again?” Stephen whispered against your ear, his hot break tickling your skin. You tried to hide your ears from his breath as you giggled, biting your bottom lips and nodding.

You pushed Stephen away from you and slid out of the bed, “We can clean up and do it at the same time,” You beckoned Stephen with your finger, inviting him to go to the bathroom with you.

The Next Day

You woke up the next morning with your face buried against Stephen’s chest. His arms draped across your ribs, and his hands rested on your lower back. You arched into him sleepily, savouring the sensation of his skin against your own, legs tangled each other, you slowly opened your eyes and saw the peacefulness of his face as he sleeps then suddenly the corner of his lips quivered when he felt your gaze on him, “Good morning.”

“Is it?” You asked teasingly, “You’re going to leave today.”

“But I’ll be coming back, I’ll be back here before you know it.” Stephen props himself up using his elbow.

“My (Y/N),” the knuckles of his other hand brushing against your cheekbones before pulling you in for a kiss mouth hard and unrelenting. As close as Stephen held you, you wanted to be closer. You wanted to feel every inch of him before he leaves. Tightening your hold, you moulded your body to the hard shape of him—to the broad expanse of his chest, his stomach, his legs. With a low groan, he snaked his hands under your thighs and hitched you up against him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he bore you to the bed, deepening the kiss.

“Your Majesty, I have a list of the new books—” Asha stops abruptly as she finds you and Stephen on the bed—fortunately both of you were under the sheets. You and Stephen pull your faces away from each other and turn to look at Asha.

Your Lady in waiting turns her back towards the both of you, “Excuse me, Princess. I thought you were alone. Your Highness.” She dashes out of your bedroom.

Stephen looks at you funny, “Did you give Lady Asha permission to just walk in?”

You smile sheepishly and nod, “Well yes—I requested for her to move in the room next door, in case I needed something in the night.”

“Well that won’t be necessary anymore once we get married.”

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