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aikaterini-drag · 7 months ago

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Movie Night

Pairing: King Loki x Fem Wife Reader

Summary: Loki and you spend time in your apartment in New York. You want to watch a move but Loki has other ideas.

Warnings: minors don’t interact, explicit sexual content, oral(fem receiving), p in v sex, unprotected sex, cockwarming, just shameless smut pals.

It was a well known fact that your husband wasn’t fond of Earth and its occupants. But since you were from Earth, Loki had no choice but to take you there whenever you desired.

Yes, Loki was your husband. Striking and shocking as it was, the infamous yet powerful Norse God was yours.

At first you were so afraid of him. The two of you had met during his chaotic time in New York, amidst aliens and destruction. Your meeting was wild and crazy, and Loki saw you as his enemy. You worked for Stark Industries and tried to stop Loki from destroying the world with the Avengers. Your attempt was pretty pathetic but you had to give it a shot. You couldn't just let someone trash your home without at least trying to intervene.

In the chaos of battle, you got hit by a bullet in the shoulder. Loki could have easily left you, but he didn’t. He took you to Asgard and treated your injuries with their advanced magic and healing concoctions. In a matter of days you were completely healed. All thanks to him. He’d saved you, and that’s when you started seeing parts of him that no one else could.

Loki was a never-ending puzzle, with so many tiny pieces that it seemed impossible to ever see the whole picture. But if there was one thing you had learned about him was his deep craving for affection and care. Beneath the stoic, cold exterior of this God, hid a child seeking love.

You and Loki dated for a year before he insisted on getting married. He was pretty adamant about it, especially after clearing his name and claiming his rightful spot on the throne of Asgard. As the first son, it was his duty, and Thor was more than happy to be the captain of the Asgardian soldiers and play peacemaker with Earth.

So now, you were Queen too. You had responsibilities and daily tasks that sometimes gave you headaches. You were never lonely and Loki always took care of you. But your husband was King, born and bred for the role, when you were just a human who had only ever imagined living in a tiny New York apartment, not glittering kingdoms and palaces.

When you asked Loki for a vacation back home, he agreed. He took you to New York, where you stayed in your old apartment. Loki had bought and completely renovated it. Now, it was an adorable small place with comfy and elegant furniture, a perfect escape from your royal duties.

That night, you chose to stay in and watch a movie while munching on snacks until you were full.

No duties, no attendants or royal meetings.

Just you and your husband.

You had already stocked up on all kinds of chips, chocolate and candy. Loki had just emerged from the shower, wearing a half-open green robe that showed off his muscular chest, still flushed from the heat. He looked even taller and more imposing in your small apartment, his wet raven hair dripping water.

To distract yourself from your lusty thoughts, you went to the living room and lit a candle. You snuggled into the couch, and that’s when Loki strolled in, his musky scent filling the air. He sat down beside you and handed you a glass of wine. Your glasses clinked and you took a few sips of wine and smiled at him, enjoying the rich, fruity taste.

“Good?” He asked.

You grinned. “You have excellent taste.”

“Are you happy?” Loki asked. As much as he grumbled about Midgard, he knew how much you missed your old life. He spoiled you as often as he could.

“Very. Thank you, honey. You are quite possibly the best husband in the whole universe.”

He bent to kiss your neck. “Quite possibly? My dear, I am unequivocally the best. And I can prove it to you.”

You moaned as his lips trailed your neck, dragging your neckline aside to kiss your collarbones. “Loki no.”

“Why not?” He looked up at you like a child who’d been refused his favorite toy.

“You promised we’d watch a movie tonight.”

"I desire to ravish you instead."

You half-laughed. “You ravish me daily.”

“And it appears I am never satisfied. So I crave more.”

“You know, sometimes it’s hard keeping up with your libido,” you muttered as he cupped your breasts over your T-shirt and traced your nipples. “Loki, wait—”

He grumbled and drew back. “You are one merciless woman.”

You kissed his cheek. “I’d like to watch a movie with you. It’s been my dream, being with my boyfriend—”

“Husband,” he corrected.

“Yes, being with my husband and watching a late night movie while eating snacks.”

“I shall indulge you, my wife,” he said, tucking his robe closed and trying to hide his raging erection. He flashed a smile, his white teeth gleaming, and added, “And then,I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk.”

You blushed. Loki often said things like that, completely shameless. “You debauched God,” you muttered.

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “A pleasure, darling.”

Sprawling his long legs, Loki tucked you in his arms, a soft blanket draped over you. You craddled a bowl of chips, snacks, and candy in one arm and the TV remote in the other, browsing movies on Netflix.

“This place is nice, even pretty,” Loki mused as he looked around the renovated apartment. He hadn’t really taken the time to appreciate it before.

“Pretty, huh? I remember you calling it a ‘pathetic hovel’ last time,” you teased, glancing up at him.

“Well�� that was a long time ago.”

“So, what do you want to watch tonight?”

He sighed. “Well, if we’re going to waste time with Midgardian entertainment, it might as well be brief.”

“Brief? I guess a movie then.”

“Yes.” He raised an eyebrow. “I have to debauch you after that, remember?”

You nudged him lightly with your elbow. “You know, I think you’re secretly ashamed to enjoy a little human entertainment.”

“No. I’m simply eager to fuck you. That’s one thing I will never lie about.”

“What a rake you are.”

His eyes sparkled with mischief. “If I must suffer through this, let’s get over with it. Please.”

As it turned out, the movie held Loki’s interest for twenty minutes before he started being mischievous.

Honestly, you expected him to start sooner.

He took a chip and pretended to accidentally drop it in your lap. Then, acting all innocent, he “accidentally” tried to catch it, slipping his hand between your thighs. His fingers brushed against your clothed pussy, but retreated when you sent him a firm look.

Loki resumed watching the movie.

A while later, he cuddled you close and “accidentally” dropped a piece of popcorn down your shirt, between your breasts. You barely held back your grin at his ministrations. He retrieved it and you stopped his groping with a gentle slap of your hand.

“You know,” you started, “for the god of mischief, your way of distracting me is pretty lame.”

He smiled and undeterred, opened his robe. “I’m hot.”

Your eyes strayed from the TV screen because good Gods, he’d opened his robe completely, giving you a good view of his glorious cock. Thick, long and fat, it stood at attention. It throbbed, thick veins running from the head to the base. You bit your lips at the bead of moisture at the head. Loki had a magnificent chiseled body, and his cock was like rest of him, Godly. Devine. Perfect.

You rubbed your thighs together, trying to ignore the emptiness inside you. Damn him for using your weakness against you. His green eyes glowed in the dim light, filled with a hunger that promised to have you mewling and begging for his touch.

“Shouldn’t you be watching the movie?” Loki asked, his voice a husky whisper. His cock throbbed from between your bodies, begging for your touch.

You dragged your eyes from his cock and up to his face. “This is not fair.”

“God of mischief.”

In a swift move, he shifted, pushing you against the couch with his body between your legs. You gasped at the feel of him against you. Warm, hard and scented with masculine musk, your husband was irresistible. The movie played in the background, but went completely unnoticed.

He caught your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth. “It’s time for me to have a taste of my Queen. I want my sweet human crying out, her pretty pink pussy clenching around me.”

“Hmm… yes…” you said in between wet kisses. “More, please… Loki…”

With a satisfied hum, he worked on removing your clothes, tugging at your pajamas and almost tearing your underwear. He tossed away both of your clothes away as if they offended him until there was nothing left but your smooth skin exposed to his eyes. Grasping under your knees, he steered them wide apart, and enjoyed the view. Creamy thighs and in between was the most pretty, pink puffy cunt begging for his attention.

“Look at that,” he drawled, his finger running up and down your drenched slit. “I could scent your desire all this time, my naughty little Queen.”

You opened your mouth to speak but moaned when one thick finger pressed inside. He gathered your wetness and pumped slowly, in and out, in and out, while watching you intently. You squirmed, seeking more, but he kept you still. A second finger entered, curling and rubbing that sensitive spot. You fell back, your toes curling. Licking his lips, Loki added a third, stretching you wide for him while his thumb teased your clit.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, watching at where your cunt squeezed his fingers. “So beautiful.”

“Husband, please.” You gripped his forearms. “Want them faster.”

Loki grinned and obliged, thrusting his fingers in a come hither motion. You rocked against them, panting and whining from overload. He kept his other hand on your inner thigh, keeping you open for him. Thrusting, stroking and playing with you, you came in a matter of seconds. Stars flashed in your vision. You were delirious, floating in clouds of bliss.

Loki retreated from your pussy, licking his fingers that were all wet from your juices. Then growing low, he descended upon your mound, his teeth nibbling at the fat pussy lips before flicking his tongue around your clit. Oversensitive, you tried to stop him but couldn’t. Body taut, you threaded your hands through his wet hair, grinding your pussy against his face.

A few more shameless licks and you cried out, shaking, coming apart with long-drawn moans. Loki didn’t stop teasing you, he fucked you with his fingers, moving up to devour your nipples, sucking the buds deep into his warm mouth.

“My pretty Queen possesses the sweetest taste. Can’t have enough of you.”

He claimed your mouth and you moaned at the taste of your essence on his tongue. Your hands traveled along his strong body, caressing his broad shoulders before traveling low to cup his cock. You pumped him, traced the veins and rubbed the leaky head. Loki hummed, pleased as he licked into your mouth.

Pinning your hands above your head, he grabbed his fat cock and slapped it on your pussy lips. He was heavy and hot. You watched as he rubbed the pulsing shaft until it was coated in your juices, teasing you by thrusting the cockhead inside your little slit before drawing back. With a whine, you canted your hips, begging him in a series of whines and murmurs.

He indulged you and finally surged forward, watching as your small opening was forced open by his dick. You both moaned at the sensations and once he was seated to the hilt you needed a few moments to adjust to the invasion. He was big, bigger than a human in every way. You always needed some moments to get used to the incredible fullness and stretch.

Even so, you always fit perfectly together.

“Good?” he asked, breathless and aroused.

“Okay, you can move now.”

Nodding, he pulled back, his veined length frothing with your slick before slamming back in. Having him inside you felt glorious. He did it again, his eyes fixed on your pretty cunt; he drew back till all his cock was out, then pushed deep, until his swollen balls squeezed against your ass.

“Loki,” you whined, not caring how desperate you sounded, “want to touch you.”

He freed your hands and you immediately traced his strong body, trailing your fingers down his neck, chest, nipples and firm ass while he pounded inside you, claiming your very soul. Clutching your waist, he went faster, his mouth devouring your nipples while you clung to his shoulders for dear life and rode higher and higher.

Your orgasm hit you hard and fast and you shut your eyes tightly at how intense it was. Loki followed right after you, delving to the hilt and shooting ropes of warm cum inside you. You felt his release, every pump that flooded your pussy and overflowed, dripping down your the crack of your ass.

With a rumble of satisfaction, he set you to lay on your side, cuddling you from behind, his still hard shaft still within you. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, then suckled your nipples and cupped your breasts in his hands. You relaxed into him, your body lax and spent.

“We should watch the rest of the movie now,” he said in an absolutely serious tone.

You half-laughed. “We missed most of it.”

He kissed your head with a grin. “We can watch it again.”

“Oh, now you don’t mind?”

“I think I’m going to relish watching as many movies as you want, darling.”

To prove his point, he gave a shallow thrust—he was still hard and your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

“That sounds like a threat, husband,” you moaned when he draped your leg over his thigh. “Loki—”

He rubbed the place where you were joined. “I want to play with my Queen’s pussy while we watch the movie.”

You wiggled but he kept you lodged to him. “Loki this is too much.”

He silenced you with a kiss and drew tight circles over your clit. You felt warm magic permeating your pussy and knew that he was healing you. You no longer felt so oversensitive and the stretch of his cock was pleasing, welcoming.

“There,” he dragged his tongue across your neck. “I always take care of my wife.” He kissed your forehead and added, “Now put the movie from the start.”

“Lo—” you didn’t manage to let out another word and whined when he leaned down to kiss around your flushed nipples.

“Loki—”

“The movie, darling,” he said and gently thrust his cock, reminding you that he remained rock hard inside you.

Loki moved from behind you, his hands, mouth and delicious length of him inside you teasing you to another orgasm. True to his word, he ended up fucking you until the credits rolled and you had no strength to do anything else but melt sweetly into his arms and enjoy his ministrations.

#loki of asgard #loki tom hiddleston #loki laufeyson #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki god of mischief #loki laufesyon x reader #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x ofc #Loki x Fem Wife Reader #loki odison x reader #loki smut #loki fanfic #loki x reader smut

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moonstruck-poet · 1 year ago

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Unexpected Surprise

Pairing - Tom Hiddleston x reader!

Summary -

Warnings -

Tysm for the lovely request anon and sorry it took so long<33 I really hope it was as per your wishes

"Tom? Can you come in here for a minute please?" Your voice called out through the apartment and footsteps followed.

"Yeah?" He popped his head in the bedroom and laughed at the scene before him. His son and daughter sitting on the bed, their hair covered in what look like white snow.

While you stood in front of them, trying to be stern but he saw you biting your lip to prevent laughter. Your one year old boy nestled in your arms, somehow sleeping peacefully amidst all the chaos.

"Now what happened here hmm?" He sauntered inside with a curious expression and looked at the twins, crossing his arms.

"Pillow fight!" They chorused and raised their little arms above their heads and your heart melted.

"Okay," he walked closer to the children, taking baby steps and you understood his next intentions immediately and you stepped back, wrapping both of your arms around your baby.

"Then let's go for a round two!" They barely had time to process his statement before he grabbed a small pillow and threw it softly at the two.

They retorted quickly, standing up and squealing as they joined forces to attack their father making you laugh at the unity.

James stirred and your palm went to cover his ears as you exited the room and went into his nursery, sitting on the small bed.

A smile made its way on your lips as you admired your little creation. The soft curls atop his head similar to yours while his baby blue irises a carbon copy of your husband's. This had been the case with the twins too. They both had inherited your hair and his eyes.

His little fist was holding tightly onto your finger as you slowly rocked him, luring him into a deep sleep though you didn't worry too much. He was quite a heavy sleeper, much like yourself.

You caressed his head, your heart squeezing when he leaned right into your hand. He clearly was a mama's boy.

All of your children were actually. They of course loved Daddy, but could only ever stop crying in your presence.

The door opened softly and in entered your husband. You heard the silence that followed his entrance and knew that Jeremiah and Isabella were sound asleep.

"Hey," you murmured once he sat close next to you, his head resting on your shoulder and his finger touching his little one's cheek.

"Hi," he whispered back and raised his head to look you right in the eye making your breath hitch. Even after all these years, his charm was still the same.

But then you noticed his face falling as he scanned your face making your smile drop slightly in self consciousness as you desperately looked at him for an answer.

"What- What's wrong?"

He shook his head and took James, holding him carefully and placing him in his crib before facing your questioning expression. Then sitting down in front on you, he took your hands in his.

"How are you feeling?" He asked and you frowned the question.

"I'm fine, I feel okay..." You answered back, not sure where he was getting at.

"You look exhausted, my love," he cupped your cheeks, his thumb caressing them as he delivered the statement as gently as possible.

You got up from the bed in urgency, wanting to take a look at yourself. And what Tom said what indeed true. You looked like you've been through a hurricane.

"Christ," you said under your breath, taking note of every tiny change that had occured since the past months. "I look terrible".

"No don't say that," he reprimanded and snaked his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss to your jaw. "What you need, is a nice holiday all for yourself. I want to hit myself for not bringing this up sooner, but you need time for yourself, love".

You agreed with every word of his, but how could it be possible now? With your children still bring too young.

"We don't have time now," you turned around, bringing him closer by the neck.

"Yes we do," he said firmly. "Jere and Isa are almost three and James is young but he's a calm one you know that. And you also know just how much they love their grandparents".

"That's true," you sighed and buried your face in the crook of his neck, not realising just how much you had missed this.

"You need to take some time out for yourself, and I think a nice little vacation is the perfect solution. You're out here taking care of all os us, so it's only fair even that I take care of my beautiful wife".

You laughed softly, your lips brushing against his ear, "Okay".

"Leave the planning to me and go and get some sleep," he kissed your forehead and your heart squeezed at the thought of having such a loving and caring husband.

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The vacation that you had taken nearly three months ago was a well deserved and needed holiday. The coasts had helped your mental state immensely.

And you were currently glowing.

You had also started to slowly go back to your earlier routines. Going for a walk in the morning with Bobby, trying to hit the gym atleast thrice a week, and just doing all the things that you were doing previously.

"Jere!" You called your three-year-old, "Will you get the spoons from Daddy please?"

"Yes!" He answered enthusiastically and ran up to his father, handling the cutlery with care and taking tiny footsteps towards you.

"Thank you sweetheart," you smiled at his adorable expression.

"What's for dinner?" Isabella ran from the living room towards the dining table and sat herself down her designated seat.

"It's my speciality if you please," Tom said in a posh accent, bringing plates exactly how a waiter would making the kids giggle.

Isa gently tickled James who was sitting on the high chair and he squirmed away from her hand, laughing happily.

"Hey stop tickling Jamie!" Jeremiah said playfully, ready to defend his brother but his twin merely poked out her tongue.

You smiled at one half your universe seated right in front of you and the other half soon joined in the picture making tears well up in your eyes.

God your hormones were a real mess today. You felt like crying since the morning.

The dinner was indeed a wonderful affair and currently it was only you and your husband, sitting on the couch and watching Iron Man together.

"No look at him," you frowned upon seeing your favorite character's face fall as he looked at his dead friend.

"You know I think you might love him more than me".

"I do".

He raised an eyebrow and you prevented a laugh, about to retort when your eyes widened amd you slapped a hand on your mouth to rush towards the bathroom.

The sudden wave of nausea had taken you aback and threw up all the things you had ate just a few hours ago.

"Love?" Tom was immediately behind you with a frown on his face. "Oh you okay?" He asked, heavily concerned upon seeing your extremely pale face.

"I- I don't know," you took a deep breath, feeling a lack of oxygen in your lungs. "I feel lightheaded," your hand went to grip the side of your head as you swayed and he steadied you.

"Should we go to the clinic? You need to see a doctor," he murmured, watching as you rinsed your mouth and brushed your teeth.

"No I- I'm fine," you sighed and leaned against the wall, eyes closing in fatigue. "We'll go tomorrow if I'm still unwell".

He nodded, though his forehead was creased with worry as he guided you towards you room. Not even thinking of sleeping until he had made sure you were alright.

The next morning your condition was stable, but it soon fell quickly when you had smelt something that was overly sweet and nauseating making you vomit. Again.

"We should go," Tom whispered as he rubbed your back and you nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"Mumma? Daddy what's wrong with Mumma?" Isa asked with wide eyes and Jere was right behind her.

"She's not feeling well, love," he answered and leaned down before them, noticing the way their eyes glistened.

"Mumma," Jere's shaky whisper caught your attention amd you looked at your twins who were on the verge of crying.

"Oh hey no," you said and despite the throbbing pain in your temple, crouched down and they ran into your outstretched arms. "I'm okay, my tummy's just a little upset, yeah?"

"We're gonna go visit the doctor now," Tom added and wiped their tears. "Till then Grandma and Grandpa will be here, okay?"

They nodded and the parents bid them goodbye, once Tom's parents had arrived. James was luckily asleep, otherwise he would certainly have thrown a fit.

The doctor, who was your family physician did some tests, asking about your symptom. All during the process she appeared quite calm while you were unsettled.

"There's nothing to worry about, Mr and Mrs Hiddleston," she addressed the couple with a small smile. "It appears that you are pregnant," she said to you, her face beaming.

"P- Pregnant?" You stammered and her smile fell at your reaction and she excused herself as your turned your head to look at your husband who was equally shocked.

This was really unexpected and not planned at all. You had completed your family with three beautiful children and neither of you wanted another.

"We- We discussed. We didn't-" He couldn't find the words to explain, probably because his mind itself was muddled.

The new wave of emotions hit you hard and tears had slipped down your defenses. You dug your palms into your eyes, not bring able to grasp this entire situation.

It was a huge thing. Maybe would brush it off and say, what's the big deal? But no, of course it was a big deal. A child was going to be entering this world.

"Say something!" Your fingers wrapped around his bicep and you shook him. "I'm pregnant with our child, Hiddleston and you're there just sitting silently!"

"What am I supposed to do?" He didn't raise his voice at all, addressing you calmly but there was an edge to it.

"What are we gonna do, Tom?" You said rather fiercely and looked at him who was staring at you. "What's going to happen now? What the hell are we going to do? We didn't plan this, and had no ideas that this could happen and now I'm pregnant and there's a child inside me and-"

"Hey hey hey," he shook himself out of his trance and grabbed you by the shoulders, trying to bring your mind back from an oncoming panic attack.

"We didn't plan this," he nodded. "But now it has happened, love and I don't think we can do anything now".

"I know!" You said helplessly, "But Tom just think. We already have three toddlers at home and now there's gonna be another in under a year".

He simply paid rapt attention, gesturing for you to continue which made you even more upset for some reason.

"Please say something," you whispered, tears clouding your vision.

He didn't, but instead took you gently into his arms and the emotions flooded out in an instant. His eyes too were glistening but he disregarded that. His sole focus being you. "Calm down, love. I think I know what's troubling you, hmm?"

"I know too," you answered after taking a deep breath and inhaling his comforting scent that was anchoring you.

"Bu we're gonna do everything properly okay? We're gonna be the best parents to our children and this little one that's in there," he said and laid his palm across your lower abdomen.

"Yeah," you nodded, breaths uneven as you tried to steady yourself. "I'm just worried that maybe, just maybe we won't be able to give time to them all, we won't be able to love all of them equally".

"I understand, darling. But that won't happen, ever. We'll make sure of it, together. You are gonna be such a great mum, yeah?"

You smiled, looking up at and seeing the love in his baby blue irises was enough to melt you on the spot.

"I love you, Tom," you said softly, a single tear sliding down your cheek.

"I love you too, so so much," he replied, a smile stretching across his lips as he wiped your tears away, thumb caressing your cheek. "You're my entire world, sweetheart. Don't you ever forget that".

"And you're mine".

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#fanfiction #tom hiddleston ff #tom hiddleston angst #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x wife reader #tom hiddleston comfort #tom hiddleston x reader pregnant #Thomas william hiddleston

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lokidokieokie · 2 years ago

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The Price of Deception pt 1

Summary: After discovering Loki's failed attempt at taking over Earth, his family confronts him and he must earn their forgiveness.

Pairing: Avengers!Loki x Fem!Wife!Reader

Warning(s): angst, and uhhh more angst, I don’t really know what else to put here

Note: Slight AU here, Loki did not die and the events of Thor did not go to the extent of the film

You hadn't seen Loki in months, not since he left Asgard to explore the Nine Realms. At first, you didn't think much of it. After all, he had always been restless, eager to see new things and go on adventures. But then, your children started asking for him.

“Mummy, when is Daddy coming home?” your daughter, Freya, asked one evening as you tucked her into bed.

You sighed. “I don't know, sweetheart. He's still out exploring.”

“But I miss him,” Freya pouted.

“I know, I miss him too,” you admitted, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “But he'll be back soon, I promise.”

Days turned into weeks, and still there was no sign of Loki. Your children grew more and more restless, and you started to worry. What if something had happened to him?

One day, as you were putting your six-month-old son, Magnus, down for a nap, you heard a knock at the door. It was Thor.

“Thor! What brings you here?” you greeted him warmly, inviting him in.

“I do not bring good tidings, sister. I'm here to bring you to Midgard,” he said simply.

“What? To Midgard? Why?” you asked, confused.

“It's about Loki. I do not have time to explain; it is urgent that you and the children come with me to Midgard at once.” Thor replied cryptically.

You hesitated. In your centuries of life, you had never once been to Midgard. With their backwards traditions and views on women, it was never a place you deemed worthy of visiting. But when you thought about how much your children had been asking for their father, you realised that you didn’t have the heart to deny them the opportunity.

“Alright, Thor. We’ll come with you,” you said firmly.

Thor nodded, and the four of you set off for Midgard.

As soon as you arrived, you could tell that something was wrong. The Avengers--or so you assumed--were all gathered in the common room, looking tense and worried. And in the middle of the room, chained up and looking dejected inside of a glass container, was Loki.

Your heart sank. What had he done now?

“Mummy, is that Daddy?” Freya asked, tugging on your sleeve.

Her sweet little voice seemed to grab the attention of everyone in the room; and soon all eyes were on your little family.

Attempting to ignore their stares, you turned and nodded at your daughter. “Yes, sweetheart, that’s your father.”

“What's he doing there?” Freya demanded.

You didn't have an answer for her. You were now too busy staring at Loki, trying to figure out what was going on.

Trying not to wake the sleeping baby in your arms and keeping a firm grip on your daughter’s hand, you turned to your brother-in-law and asked. “Thor, what's happening?”

Not meeting your eyes Thor replied, “It's complicated, sister.”

You glared at him. Complicated? Wasn’t everything that involved your husband complicated? “I want answers, Thor. And I'm not going to ask you twice.”

Thor sighed, looking defeated. “Loki...he tried to conquer Midgard. He attacked New York.”

Your blood boiled. “He did what? Why would he attempt such a thing?”

"I don't know," Thor admitted. “But he's here now, and we need your help.”

“My help?” you repeated incredulously.

“Yes. He’s refusing to talk to anyone. But I thought that possibly, if you talked to him, you could get through to him.” Thor said, looking at you hopefully.

You gaze shifted over at Loki. He was watching you, his eyes filled with sadness and what you assumed was regret. You could see the pain etched on his face, and for a moment, you felt a twinge of sympathy.

But then you remembered your children, and the way they had been asking for their father. You thought about how much they had been missing him, and how much they had been looking forward to seeing him again. And you knew what you had to do.

“Fine,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I'll talk to him.”

A/N I always feel the need to write angst!

Taglist! Everything: @thewaithfuckingannoyme @evelyn-kingsley Loki: @dryyoursaltyoceantears

#loki #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki angst #loki x wife!reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader

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smolvenger · 7 months ago

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The Little Princess (Henry V x fem! Reader Oneshot)

Summary: As queen of the nation and wife to Henry the Fifth, all rejoice to discover you are pregnant with your first child with your beloved husband. Only to discover, the child is not the long awaited son, but a girl...

Word Count: 5K

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

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@anukulee @herdetectivetheorist (from your request!)

A/N: hehehehe uploading this while listening to "The Man" by Taylor Swift

Warnings: Pregnancy and childbirth in the beginning, which I try to portray as realistically as I can. I changed up what would have happened in history per the request I was given for this. No way is it accurate. But also this is fanfic world and irl Henry V wouldn't have had the luscious curls and ass of Tom Hiddleston. Mentions of sex but no smut. Baby stuff. Some angst, but lots of fluff. Grammar and spelling mistakes that missed my radar.

“Her Majesty, the Queen of England, is with child, Your Highness,” the messenger announced.

Henry had slouched, relaxed on his wooden throne. He then shot up straight. The dominant grace he held cracked for a second. His blue eyes blinked, doing his best not to stagger in his posture.

“She…she is?” he asked, almost incredulously.

The messenger nodded his head.

“Yes. The physician just examined her. He asked me to inform you of these happy tidings. And we shall pray you shall soon be blessed with an heir apparent,” he reported with a smile.

Henry found a small half laugh escape him. He smiled so wide it showed his teeth. He lowered his head, feeling a little dizzy for a second. But he knew how to regain himself quickly after his time as the ruler of England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales.

“Tell the physician we thank him for his swift and happy news,” he replied.

The messenger bowed his head and exited through the wooden doors.

Henry did his best to remain focused throughout the meetings today. But he found his head swam. You- his precious wife, beloved consort-was going to have a child- have his child. He was going to be a father, and you were going to be a mother. His entire world had changed in just a minute and he was supposed to act as normal.

Once they were declared finished, he shot up.

“I would like to visit her Majesty at once,” he declared.

“She is in her chambers, my lord,” one servant confirmed.

He hurried to where you were, the attendants right behind him. The hallways nearly spun as he walked with such a quick bounce. Not caring even if his crown was knocked out of his head.

Meanwhile, you were sitting down. Your stomach was already churning- for you had become more aware of it since this morning. You could only sit and embroider with your ladies in waiting- it was only a matter of time until-

“His majesty, the king,” a male attendant announced at the door.

You shot up and curtsied as Henry the Fifth of Lancaster bounded in. The other ladies followed suit.

“My lord, and husband,” you replied dutifully, raising back up to face him.

Henry looked flushed, scattered even. He walked up to you and held both of your hands in his.

“My lady, do you confirm that what I heard was true? Are you…are you with child?” he asked softly. As if you were in private and not with a dozen eyes on you.

You nodded, smiling. You leaned in closer, your voice matching his quiet tone.

“Yes. Yes, I am. I know it in my heart, Harry. I’ve had no courses for months. The physician’s tests confirmed my suspicions….” you replied.

You took his hand and moved it to your stomach. Even if it appeared normal, even if the baby was now small- it seemed even the king himself sensed the presence inside.

“Our first child is inside me now,” you said finally.

He picked you up and spun you around and kissed you. Bursting into laughter, you clutched him. He held your face and kissed you again. You, his wife, his queen, his beloved, now about to be mother to his child. Who cared if these people saw this intimacy from their lord? He was the maker of what was formal, not they.

“We’ve prayed so long for this, my lord. You know how long we have asked God to bless us someday… and someday has arrived!!” you replied.

He held your face again, his eyes shining.

“I’ve never loved you more than this moment, Y/N,” he confessed.

“I love you too, Harry,” you responded.

As the pregnancy passed, you dealt with each symptom with as much grace as you could. For you knew once you had a son, all would see you as more than just Henry’s pretty accessory and broodmare. You would be the mother to the next king. All would respect you and revere you far more. That brought you through the mornings of nausea and sudden, intense cravings for certain foods.

What was best was the nighttime before sleep. Henry defied court tradition and insisted he wanted to join you in your chambers. Even though there was the advice that he avoid his marital duties until after the baby arrived, to risk any lustful acts harming the child inside you. To have a misteress to pleasure him as you carried the child was out of the question for Harry of England. He would prefer to fall on his sword instead.

The truth was, you didn’t need to perform any act of lust with your husband to be with him. You both could sit in silence. Read books and play chess or little games. Discuss anything and everything. Even to lay in bed and to hold each other. And how your heart burst with love as you felt his hand on his stomach and heard him talk to the child. Even placing little kisses on there. When the baby first kicked, you put his hand there to feel. You both grinned and kissed each other. That was as intimate as anything with your bodies entwining. Whispering names and hopes for the little child. Said little prayers for a safe delivery for you. For the baby in your stomach to survive past infancy. To survive to an adult. One that would always know how much their mother and father wanted and loved them.

When the time came for confinement, the time when you would stay only in your private chambers in the ninth month away from the court, including Henry, to help guarantee a safe delivery. Your heart beat fast. Your stomach was so large that you could only waddle rather than walk. Henry only kissed you, gently tracing your face. Promising that only if there was a crisis would he break down the doors and run to your side.

For days you sat in your rooms. It became stuffy and dark as they closed the curtains, the priests carrying incense throughout and blessing what was going to be the birthing bed. You sat there, sweating, and feeling both the immense fear of your death and the fear of the pain.

At last, one early morning, your water broke. Hyperventilating and crying, you awoke a lady in waiting to run to get the midwife. You were shaking, pain scorching as the baby was starting to get ready to emerge. You knew what would happen, and yet when it began, you felt thrown into the unknown. You were so frightened, you let out screams as the contractions began. They fetched the birthingThere was the delivery, you cried your way through the pain.

“Harry- where is Harry? Where is my husband? I’m so frightened! Please! Where is he!?” you cried, your vision blurry with tears.

“This is not the place for your husband to be, your Majesty. The Lords thought it best he be kept away for now. But how proud he would be of you now- you’re doing well- the baby’s coming out fine!” the midwife encouraged you. “Keep pushing, my lady! I see the head!”

You were sweaty and disgusting and at your most primal, far from the elegant and regal woman they all saw in public. Blood and fluids, including some embarrassing ones, had come out during the labor which was all being cleaned up after it was spilled.

The hours dragged on in torture. The midwife yelling encouragements through your hot face full of tears. You felt sick, even faint, as you pushed the child out from between your legs. Sitting on the stool with the midwife over, every lady in waiting dabbed your burning forehead and squeezed your hand through each push.

Then, finally, a cry came out. But not from your voice. A baby’s cry. You let out a shaky breath of relief.

Alive. The child was alive. As were you.

You caught your breath, panting hard. One lady in waiting grinned at you-

“Well done, Your Majesty!” she praised.

You let out a gasp as the afterbirth crawled out. But it was easy and painless compared to a child and slipped easily into the below pot placed for it. A maid grimaced but took it away. You heard the click of a knife as the cord on the child was cut. Another warm cloth went over the tiny, wrinkled newborn as it wailed and wailed. You felt dizzy, the red curtains of your chambers swimming around. Then you came to.

The heir. The heir apparent. Henry’s heir- Henry’s heir was here. The one purpose for which you were made wife to the king was now fulfilled-

“It’s a girl,” the midwife announced.

The child was in the midwife’s arms. your eyes noticed the lower half of the baby’s body. She was correct.

For a second, your heart stopped. The world stopped.

There was a slight silence in the room. It wasn’t like the eruptious joy that would have followed had it been the opposite.

The baby still cried heartily. They swaddled her- not the long-awaited him, her. For that was what the baby that was your constant companion inside you for months was. Not the long-awaited male heir for the Lancaster line. No- a daughter. And what is a daughter, but a disappointment?

In those seconds, your mind reeled. Your belly was empty now for the first time in over a year. You had disappointed the nation- there would be no heir to the Lancaster throne. Not yet. You had let down the court. Mothering a son brought special respect and privilege.

And, most of all, worst of all, you let down Henry. The one person you loved most of all. And that hurt the worst.

The baby wailed. A high, piercing, harsh cry. Ladies in waiting gathered around and fussed. The midwife cleared out the mucus and fluids covering the newborn. Still, the crying rang through the room like harsh bells.

You wondered briefly if it would have been better if you didn’t recover and died from this than face the humiliation.

Wrapping some swaddling over the crying newborn, they handed her over to you.

“Here, hold her, your majesty. She seems a healthy, beautiful little girl,” the midwife announced.

The tiny, wrinkled babe at first didn’t seem beautiful.

Then the bundle was placed in your arms and the baby stopped crying at once.

You looked down at her.

Something inside you broke.

She was….small. So small for your great pain. Her tiny face, the tiniest little hands, and hte tiniest head. She was fragile. Could you remember when you were brought to court to marry the king? You were just as fragile, as naive, as alone without protection- who knows what would have happened if Henry had been so gentle and patient with you, if you hadn’t grown to fall in love with him and he with you.

She nestled to you, her crying ceasing. Clinging to you. She didn’t know so many things…but she knew you were her mother.

And she trusted you to protect her.

A new feeling burst on you. You were not afraid of facing humiliation from the men of court…you were afraid of failing her. She reached a hand and began to coo. Making tiny little noises like that of a mouse. You held up your hand and she held onto your finger- settling close to you.

“Hello, my dear…hello…” you murmured. The pain seemed even more distant.

Tears came down you again and you felt yourself smile. You loved her. This tiny, beautiful, and unwanted girl.

One lady in waiting reached for you and you barked at them.

“Get away from her! Don’t touch her!” you yelled out, the tears running down your face, your breasts heavy with milk that was not going to be used, and the hotness in your body flushing to anger. You held the bundle closer to yourself.

You understood the instincts of bears, how they would rip men into pieces if they dared tread near the den of their cubs. If anyone- anyone- haughty courtiers that were so stuck in their ways that they had nothing better to do with their time other than harm an innocent child- incapable of fighting, of proper speech, of defending herself- you would have murdered them. And you would have enjoyed it.

She cried only a little, startled by your voice. You rocked her and shushed her, kissing her forehead.

“Hello, hello- I’m your mother, don’t be frightened, my dear, I’ve waited a while to meet you, shhhh. Mother is here, you’ll be safe. I’m sorry I surprised you, shhh,” you whispered.

The midwife approached you cautiously.

“Your majesty…the baby must be cleaned further. Do not worry- she will be safe…” she assured you. And your good sense one- for the midwife had delivered hundreds of babes and you knew the girl was in good hands.

You looked down again at your baby, still somewhat patched and bloody. For that, you handed her over.

Henry was tending to his stallion in the stables. The white one was his personal favorite. He often enjoyed being the one to hand the horse hay and feel it nibble form his hand. His attendants just beside him to see to anything, wanting to do anything to distract their lord and sovereign as he anxiously awaited news of his beloved wife.

A lady in waiting arrived inside and their heads turned like deer. She took a few steps forward and curtsied low. Henry gestured for her to rise.

“How is the queen? It was early morn when the birthing began. Tell me- Does she live?” he asked anxiously.

“Her majesty lives. She is delivered of a…a princess,” reported the lady.

There was a slight silence. A greyness washed over the faces of the lords. Frowns remained on their faces, but their eyes were kept on Henry.

Henry took a moment. He was still, his face unreadable. He then replied.

“The babe is fine?”

“Yes, the babe is fine, born healthy,” she answered.

He broke into a relieved half laugh and smile.

“May- may I see my them?” he asked.

The lady nodded. “Yes, the midwife said you may.”

Henry gave the lady a nod.

“We most heartily accept these joyous tidings, sweet lady. I shall see her anon,” he said.

At once, he broke into a jaunty walk. He burst from the stables, and up the stone steps, through the hallways into his wife’s chambers. He was far faster than some of the stuffier, older lords could keep up with They had a hand on their heads for their hats and puffed as their legs attempted to keep up with their lord.

Confinement seemed like his sweet angel was torn from him to another world and not another part of the castle. But he bounced up the steps. The sweet temptation to burst through those doors for weeks was finally relieved.

He at once raised a knuckle and knocked on the doors. There were feminine gasps and murmurs on the other side.

And another sound, something light, a little voice- that of a baby. And his heart picked up.

There were no servants or lords, so he announced.

“It is his majesty, the king of England.”

One lady opened and they all bowed low. Even the few ladies in the corner trying to get rid of sheets full of blood discreetly. But Henry was a man who had seen battles and once killed the famed Hotspur himself- what was more blood to him?

You laid in your bed, holding the little babe. Your heart racing hard, fighting not to break and cry and yet you found yourself smiling at him. His curls swept back from the wind of his rush and his blue eyes wide as he saw you.

He came forward and knelt next to the bed in a few short strides. He took your hand in his and kissed it.

“How is my lady?” he asked.

“I’m…I’m fine,” you replied in a choking voice. Glad to see him again, glad you were alive to experience all this.

You looked down at the swaddled child.

“Here is…here is your daughter, my lord…” you presented.

You waited for the stormy look on his face, hoping your smile would relieve it. But Henry the Fifth merely loosened his shoulders. His jaw dropped then broke into a smile as he saw her.

“May I hold her?” he asked.

You brought her into his arms. She seemed ot know her father, for she settled easily. He rocked her, and kissed her forehead. Happiness beaming everywhere on his face.

“Mary…that is what we agreed, my lady, if it was a girl…would you still like that to be her name?” he said sofly.

You nodded.

He looked around the crowd. The lord and attendants finally arrived inside, staring with wide eyes.

“Today is a special day- for we celebrate the birth of the Princess Mary. Named in memory of my mother. And we are all going to celebrate. I would like there to be a joust and a feast as well when she is christened, all for the safe arrival of Her Highness, the Princess of Wales- And please note, I want a portrait of the joust commissioned-”

Henry looked back at you sitting up on the bed.

“I want my queen in the center, on a seat- beautiful as she is and shining bright, as a testament of my love for her…”

Folding your hands, you smiled back up at him. Exhaustion and love warming your insides. Joy seeping through to where you thought you would float.

“And I ask for a second portrait be of all of us- for we are now the royal family,” Henry finished.

The courtiers nodded solemnly with plenty of “yes, my lord” repeating from their lips. For none would dare cross the king.

They departed, leaving you both alone for the first time in weeks. Mary wiggled a little in her father’s arms. He sat on the bed and smiled at you. You laid a hand on his arm.

“Harry, all of this fuss! Should you save such grand celebrations for when we have a son?” you asked.

“No, sweetling. Our child is born alive and healthy- and with her in my arms, I’m too overjoyed, that her sex does not matter right now,” he responded.

“But…your heir!” you cried.

He smiled and his eyes lowered to his baby.

“ I have three brothers. There’s more than enough heirs. There’s no need to panic…”

He leaned close.

“And with my lovely wife naked in my bed again… once she is better…how can I resist a night where we can create another beautiful child? Wouldn’t our little Mary be happy having a brother to play with and tease and scold over?”

You playfully shook your head with laughter and swatted his arm lightly.

“My lord, you are unappeasable!” you teased.

“And I have missed you too, my lady,” he replied.

Both of you kissed as May began to cry again.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

How incredible a nursery they had built for her. The rockers- two people set up to stay awake all night to rock the baby to sleep- curtsied low. It seemed that despite the disappointment, they were charmed with the sweet little baby. Her little noises that cackled about. Her adorable squeaks that made won people over. How you loved to call her “my little mouse!” when you visited to hold and rock her. For Mary would always nestle and wish to be held. She had no thoughts of being a great Princess of the Sacred Isle yet. She was an infant who only wanted to be cared for and loved.

The joust came and went. The artists got right to work for their commissions. The christening was a holiday throughout the nation. Bells rang as the Bishop blessed Mary in the church with all the nation watching.

At the feast afterward, many gathered around to glimpse at their new princess, cloaks and hats and long skirts crowding around the official cradle made for state events. It was decorated with the arms of the Lancaster house. Plush red fabrics draped the inside- the colors considered traditional for her father. It measured seven and a half feet long and two and a half feet wide. The guests invited could look at the infant from a safe distance. You couldn’t help but awe at the creation- all for one tiny baby inside! How small she looked compared to the great size of the thing! They must have thought her a giant child, not a human one!

There was no better, no more doting father than Henry the Fifth. It seemed that the only concern about a male heir came from his courtiers. And their protests and reminders fell deaf on his majesty’s ears. Even in public events where she was placed in the state cradle, Henry would stay to stand guard near it. He was not too much of a man that he was beneath wishing to hold her. He would bend up and use one arm to hold her crimson swaddling.

“I am the Father of the Nation. Of my subjects, as much as she.” he would declare, one hand up to gently touch his little daughter.

How often you stayed in that nursery, amazed at her. The nursemaids tell you everything about what a baby did and why they did it. For even if she was not yours to raise, your curiosity would get to you- and how much every day she would grow and change! Just a month later and she was big enough you wondered how she got out of you!

One night later at dinner, Henry wished to have her cradle nearby so you could eat with her. Little Mary let out a hearty cry out of nowhere.

You jumped- for it was loud and sharp. She did not wail often in her father’s presence. But Henry merely tilted his head.

“Now, what is the matter, lambkin?” he asked the baby.

She continued to cry. He picked her up. A hand over her head and her bum, placing her on his arm.

“What troubles you so, Fair little chuck-hm? Would you like a kiss from your father? Would it cheer you?”

He gave her a kiss on her warm cheek. She calmed down a little. Then she began to cry again. Your husband shot up his eyebrows in confusion. But you listened carefully to the quality of the sound of her wailing- this one was low-pitched, repeating its rhythms.

“My lord, the nurses tell me that kind of cry means she is hungry.”

With a smile on your face, you asked a servant to send for the wet nurse. Henry only widened his eyes in awe.

“Well, my lady, tell me…what have you learned from them about the crying of babes?” he asked in curiosity.

One day- after certain parliament sessions, you returned to the nursery. You heard her crying again- the sort she did when fussing. For you only wished to…to be with her, see her- for her childhood to be as good a one as you could afford for her.

Once inside, you saw one maid trying to ring her rattle. The other maid held her up to see it. But it was doing no good for little Mary who kept crying.

You walked inside and the little girl paused. She began to smile and kick her feet, her crying ceasing. She was even reaching two chubby arms towards you.

How could you have hated that she wasn’t a son when she was born? What were you even thinking with such joy and such love this little girl had for you?

Reaching over, you brought her up.

“Hello, my lovely girl, how are you?” you asked. You brought her up to yourself.

Smelling how well they bathed her. How she was indeed a sweet girl who only wished to be held and loved! You kissed her forehead.

The maids smiled.

“She does that when she misses you,” one reported.

But you never forgot the day you heard her laugh for the first time. It was the fourth month after the birth. Returning inside after strolling the gardens with the ladies, his majesty not being present. You assumed he was discussing something with the Prussian ambassador or shooting his arrows. You passed by the hallway with the nursery. You heard a small sound. Like the tinkling of bells-

It was Mary- her first laugh- you felt a gasp. And another followed- a masculine one right after- a certain laugh you knew like your hand.

Could it be… was it…?

Curiosity overcame you and you opened the door, Henry was sitting on the floor, holding her up above him and she was laughing, clapping her chubby hands. He laughed too.

You burst with love and put a hand over your mouth. The servants watching were flabbergasted. Seeing the sovereign himself playing with her, lifting her in the air and moving her about as she wriggled. You walked in and Henry still held her and leaned up.

“I believe you are enjoying yourself, my lord?” you asked.

“Mary loves it when her father makes her fly like a bird, I discovered,” he said. “You should have seen her with the ambassador's son. So used is she to men with beards, that when the shaven youth stepped forward, she stared at him like a wonder of the world!” he recalled. “Oh, and the little dear is rolling over. She can roll over to one side, but cannot roll back. And when she does, she can only cry in frustration!” he reported excitedly.

You grinned and kissed his cheek. Both of you admiring the new gown on the princess. When there was money left over in the budget, Henry would find ways to spoil her with toys and dresses.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Months passed. You and Henry waited until the time was right, when you were ready for his bed, for acts that would put his seed inside you... But…you were having trouble conceiving again.

You took advice from the physician, recalling every embarrassing martial act out loud to the old man. You devoured certain herbs prescribed to you like a rabbit. Even mixing them into drinks when you could.

Yet…your courses returned as normal.

But you began to wonder…perhaps Mary was the only child you would have. And part of you mourned. Wishing for the large, happy family you both whispered to each other at night early on in your marriage. Secretly envious of women who boasted of their broods so easily conceived.

One evening, you sat by the fire with your husband and child after dinner. Mary was asleep in the cradle in your private room. You rocked it gently, hoping she would stay asleep when the servants would come to fetch her to her nursery. Already she was big and big, more fussy from the teeth she grew.

Henry walked by you and placed an arm around you.

“What ails you, darling?” he asked.

You looked up at him.

“I am just worried, Harry… if…what if…what if she is the only one I will have…” you mourned.

Henry looked into it and said. “I think it would be wise if Mary was made my heir.”

You blinked, your jaw dropped.

“What- but husband-I have not a problem with it, but others will! But the parliament, the lords…they will refuse. They will hate her…even hurt her!” you replied.

He remained still, resolute. But his voice was soft.

“I am their king. My word is law and final. The lords, no matter what they think, must follow as I say…and if she is the one of my line, she is the one of my line…Mary will be queen. A good queen. A queen who will lead England to prosperity.”

The fire cracked more. Both of you looked at the peaceful, sleeping baby. So lovingly tucked into her soft nightdress and snuggled into blankets.

“She can barely talk yet.”

He smiled.

“She has your blood. And if that is the case, then there is no one I trust more than her…”

There was a grand announcement. Shock ran like a storm through the country. Though yes, the lords all complained and bemoaned a female heir, Henry made sure the ceremony was grand. It didn’t matter if they liked it or not, England had its heir.

There was a grand ceremony. The stony throne room decorated with grand emblems. A crowd gathered as you and Henry dressed in red velvets. Though she was getting a little heavier, you still held her high. Your face raised as every icon of another Mary with Her Child, and just as dignified, perhaps as important.

“I now announce her grace, The Princess Mary of Wales, is the heir to the throne. She shall succeed me- and all of you must honor my wife, Her Majesty, as the mother to your next ruler and honor her highness as the queen to follow,” Henry announced, his beard neatly trimmed and his golden crown beaming on his head.

“Her majesty-Princess Mary. And one day, Queen Mary of England. Long live the queen!” he declared.

“Long live the queen.” the crowd repeated.

It was the day the artist said he would show the works he painted. The small, dark-haired, bearded man went up to the first one, covered in a cloth. He pulled it off with a flourish as all took it in.

The first in the joust showed you sitting on your throne as Henry rode his white stallion to defeat his opponent. You seemed to be glowing. In bright colors that shone when light caught it. Placed in the center where all would see, decorated and beautiful.

The artist went to a second painting covered in a cloth. He removed it.

There stood the three of you standing in the church in bright, The child in your arms and Henry by your side. The three of you appeared just as grand, even Immortal.

You had not failed your husband. You had not failed the nation. You had provided an heir after all. And all would be well.

You looked over little Mary, leaning close to press a kiss to her temple and whisper to her.

“Long may you reign, my little dove.”

#henry v #the hollow crown #henry v fanfic #hollow crown henry v #henry v x reader #william shakespere #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #henry v x you #henry v x fem! reader #henry v x y/n #henry v x fem! y/n

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holdmytesseract · 8 months ago

Note

Hi love i wanted to request a drabble/blurb with tom hiddleston where he is getting ready with his pregnant wife for an event and she says something like i look like a whale or huge.....

Some reassurance, comfort and implied smut!!!!!!!

Nothing Less Than A Goddess

Tom Hiddleston x pregnant!Reader

Warnings: pregnancy stuff, insecurities, fluff, tiny bit suggestive smut

Word Count: blurb

a/n: Thank you for that sweet request, nonny! I hope you like what I came up with! 🤗

P.S. This gif is how I imagined him to look in that oneshot. 👀

You stood in the bedroom in your underwear, after just having stepped out of the shower. "Love, are you ready soon? Luke will be here in about twenty minutes." You heard your husband call out for you, from which you presumed to be the kitchen or living room.

"Umm, yeah, I, uh, need to get dressed and perhaps put on a little make-up, but beside that..." An answer came immediately. "Shall I help you, darling? Or do you get along alone?"

You wanted to think about Tom's offer for a moment, but your mouth was faster than your brain. "Yes, please!"

"Alright! Just let me take off my suit jacket and shoes again!"

Now you kind of had a guilty conscience.

"Babe, you don't have to get halfway undressed just to help-" But it was, of course, already too late. Tom appeared no minute later in the bedroom, just in a navy blue shirt and tie, matching navy blue suit trousers and - black socks. "Yes, I have to, darling. No excuses. It's my obligation to help you," Tom stated, while making his way over to you and pressing a soft kiss on your cheek; palms came to rest on your six-month baby bump. "After all, I'm this little bean's dad," he announced; wearing one of his dazzling smiles.

Well, that was true. He had a point.

You couldn't help but smile and placed your forearms on his shoulders; fingers buried in his long blond-brown locks. "Okay," you said; nodding. "Thank you." Tom smiled even wider and turned his head to press a soft kiss against the bare skin of your arm; his scruff slightly tickling and scratching you.

"Now, let me help you." You nodded and turned to pick up your matching white dress from the bed. Tom being the gentleman and caring husband he was, helped you even to step inside; making sure that you didn't lose your balance. Then he zipped the zipper of the dress up; warm fingertips brushing your skin. It sent a shiver down your spine.

Once you were fully dressed, you took a look at yourself in the full-length mirror. The dress was new. You had never worn it before. How could you, with the steadily growing baby within your womb? Impossible. That dress would fit you probably not even a month...

"And?" Tom stepped behind you; hands on your hips and pulling you against your chest. "What do you think?"

You bit your lip; giving yourself a once-over. You gently turned from side to side in his embrace; getting a look from each angle. "I-I, uh, I honestly don't know, Tommy... I mean, I like the dress. It's beautiful, but..." "But?"

You sighed; knowing that lying to your husband wouldn't work. "I... I feel like I look like a whale. I-I mean, I am huge..." You swallowed hard; feeling very insecure all of a sudden.

Behind you, Tom blinked in disbelief. "Apologies... What did you just say, darling?" "That, uh, that I look like a... whale..." Your voice was barely above a whisper. The words hadn't even left your lips entirely, when the Brit started to shake his head. "Oh, no, no, Mrs. Hiddleston. I see what you're doing - and it's not good. I won't let you walk down that dark path."

Tom turned you gently in his embrace; pointer finger and thumb cupping your chin. "Look at me, darling." You complied; your eyes meeting his stunning ones. "You are neither huge nor do you look like a whale. Do I need to remind you that you are pregnant and that it's more than normal for your body to change?" "Y-Yes, but-"

"Ah.Ah," Tom interrupted you immediately. "Apologies, darling, but no. No buts. If you are anything, then beyond beautiful. Stunning. The prettiest woman I have ever laid my eyes upon. Nothing less than a goddess." You gasped; feeling your heart skip a few beats. "A-A goddess?"

Tom nodded. "A goddess, yes. Your skin is glowing. You look more radiant than ever. Your curves are..." He took a short break; licking his lips and swallowing hard. "...absolutely delicious. Drop-dead sexy. To me, Y/N, you are even more attractive than you've already been. I can't take my eyes off you. Especially not since your pregnancy really started to show."

You were kind of overwhelmed by his words; not having expected this. "Y-You really think that?" You asked; still a bit uncertain.

Tom smiled; his other hand giving your hip a soft squeeze. "Darling, would I ever lie to you?"

Your eyes widened. "N-No! Of course not!" He kissed your forehead. "See?"

You blushed.

"Now do you believe me, or do I have to show you how much I desire your body, once we get back home tonight?"

You wetted your lips; suddenly feeling bold. Tom's words had finally gotten through. Especially the last ones.

"Hmm, perhaps, you should yes," you answered; hand playing with his tie. Tom chuckled darkly; his hand on your hip sliding down to give your ass a small, playful slap. "Gladly."

Tags: @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @multifandom-worlds @jennyggggrrr @huntedmusicgardenn @hisredheadedgoddess28 @stupidthoughtsinwriting @fictive-sl0th @loz-3 @javagirl328 @icytrickster17 @jaidenhawke @eleniblue @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @km-ffluv @herdetectivetheorist @lokiforever @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @cakesandtom @vanilla-daydreaming @kimanne723 @glitchquake @lulubelle814 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @buttercupcookies-blog @november-rayne @mandywholock1980 @lokidbadguy @smolvenger

#campfire sleepover #2k follower celebration #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x pregnant reader

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softestqueeen · 9 months ago

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✧*̥˚ fic recs *̥˚✧

here are some of my favourite fics! here are all of the fics i regularly re-read and go back to!

i will be updating this list as i go!

if you see your works here and want them removed, please reach out to me!

disclaimer: they are ALL x reader *heavy sigh*

last update: 30/06/24

✧*̥˚ marvel/mcu *̥˚✧

loki laufeyson

burning words by @lokiprompts (angst/fluff)

the ceremony by @smolvenger (smut)

i want you by @lokigodofmyheart (angsty fluff)

statues by @sassypossumm (fluff)

enchanted by @fqreverwinter (fluff)

my attention by @seriiousgiirl (fluff/smut)

love story by @averagewriter-inthedark (headcanon/ fluff)

you can wrap me round your finger by @spookyrea (fluff)

lokis little witch by @vbecker10 (smutty fluff)

training blues by @jiyascepter (hurt/comfort)

running into trouble by @vbecker10 (angsty hurt/comfort)

gossip by @lokigodofmyheart (smut)

like a queen by @lokisgoodgirl (smut)

blue christmas by @mochie85 (smut)

what makes a princess by @muddyorbsblr (fluff)

lace and beads by @sarahscribbles (smut)

bucky barnes

breeding kink blurb by @buckyalpine (smut)

pick me by @buckyalpine (angst & hurt/comfort; fluff)

drabble by @buckyalpine (smut)

please can i hold you? by @itsthewritergal (hurt/comfort)

one shot by @buckyalpine (angsty fluff)

a forbidden invitation by @thevillainswhore (smut)

wanda maximoff

good morning ࿏ wm by @themidnightcrimson (smut)

natasha romanoff

one for the road by @elaci (fluff/smutty)

stephen strange

my doctor by @withalittlehoney (fluff)

good girl by @futureplayboibunnie (smut)

his medicine by @ironstrange1991 (fluff/smut)

the goatee problem by @ironstrange1991 (fluffy drabble)

you're my comfort by @ironstrange1991 (fluff)

bucky barnes & steve rogers

accidents happen by @myfictionaldreams (fluff, smut, hurt/comfort)

adventures of amy series by @girlygirl14534

miguel o'hara

all brawn by @luvrxbunny (smut)

hot and bothered by @spiderlyla (fluffy smut)

bruce banner

cuddles are the cure by @late-to-the-party-81 (fluff/comfort)

steve rogers

tomorrow by @writtenfangirl (fluff)

here for you by @elixirfromthestars (hurt/comfort)

✧*̥˚ bbc sherlock *̥˚✧

sherlock holmes

sidewalks of london by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

the london eye by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

hold me by @fallingforunrealisticromance (fluff)

brother dearest by @starks-hero (fluff)

a single touch by @bakerstreethound (smut)

safe in your arms by @classickook (fluff)

too good to be true by @teigo-the-explorer (fluff)

let the light in by @starssaroundmyscarssblog (fluff)

dear jealousy by @french-vanilla-in-the-clouds (fluff)

a case of mistletoe and presents by @bakerstreethound (smutty)

✧*̥˚ call of duty *̥˚✧

könig

sugar daddy!könig by @yawnderu (smut)

pornstar!könig by @yawnderu (smut)

simon "ghost" riley

soft-tummy simon riley by @lovelyghst (fluff)

pornstar!Ghost by @shotmrmiller (smut)

drabble by @xiamentshoneypot (fluff)

wife of ghost by @august126 (smut)

✧*̥˚ harry potter *̥˚✧ *heavy sigh* i know

george weasley

the stolen sweater by @mayraki (fluff)

put your head on my shoulder by @weelittleweasley (fluff)

✧*̥˚ actors/actresses*̥˚✧

tom hiddleston

in too deep by @thefaefiction (smut)

✧*̥˚ criminal mind*̥˚✧

spencer reid

be my angel by @nereidprinc3ss (angsty fluff)

smut imagine by @minswriting

✧*̥˚ authors*̥˚✧

here are some of the authors i love to read and i always go back to!

@ironstrange1991 (stephen strange) her masterlist

@buckyalpine (bucky barnes) her masterlist

@luvrxbunny (bucky barnes, miguel o'hara, moon knight, joel miller) her masterlist

@fettuccin-e (oscar isaac & pedro pascal characters) her masterlist

@bakerstreethound (sherlock holmes) their masterlist their masterlist 2.0

@withalittlehoney (stephen strange) her masterlist

@melodygatesauthor (moon knight & miguel o'hara) her masterlist

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muddyorbsblr · 1 year ago

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feels like mine pt2

See my full list of works here!

Summary: On the worst day of his life, Tom receives an offer impossible to refuse: getting you back. Well, almost…

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: major character death; possibly a wonky timeline (the math wasn't and still isn't mathing in my pea brain); probably a wonky depiction of soulmates [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: sad meow meow hours

Three days ago…

After a good dozen takes on the same sequence from a variety of angles, Tom finally had a moment to himself, giving his assistant a signal to retrieve his phone so that he could give you a call. You'd been apart for nearly a month at this point and he missed you terribly.

The only remote relief he'd get was hearing your voice as often as he possibly could. You'd tell him all about the plot of the book you were reviewing, or what details you could divulge on the shows you were working on. Considering that you often had ironclad NDAs for them these days, you'd usually tell him of the former as it was less of a minefield.

Once his assistant handed over his phone, however, his heart caught in his throat at the screen that greeted him. Over a dozen missed calls from an unknown number in the last few hours, preceded by a text message from you.

Tom, sweetie, I'm in the hospital. It's no big deal, just a little road accident, don't worry about me. I might not be able to answer your calls for a while, since they're taking me in for surgery in a few minutes. I love you. Always.

With trembling hands, Tom returned the call from the unknown number, his heart so heavy in his chest it was a struggle to even breathe right. The next words felt as if they passed through him in a blur; he could only pick up on bits and pieces from the other end.

Drunk driver. T-bone. Internal bleeding.

And the worst words of all. I'm deeply sorry for your loss.

He took the soonest possible flight back to London, everything around him seemed a blur until he finally got to the home you two shared, his and your mothers waiting for him inside. That was the moment he finally broke, dropping to his knees and breaking out into sobs, the horrible reality cruelly sinking in once he saw their completely distraught faces.

They took your body to be cremated that day, allowing him a few minutes to say goodbye before they began the process. Your mother advised him against looking into the body bag, insisting that he wouldn't want that as his last memory of you, that he should at least get to live on with his final memory of your face being that of the loving, beaming wife he knew and loved.

The next time that you came out, it was in an urn, weighing just about the same as a baby, and he cradled you as such. For the entire car ride back to your home until he settled you in his study.

"We didn't have enough time," he said through his tears, stroking the golden urn as if he was stroking your hair. "We should have had more time."

At that moment, a voice pierced the solemn silence of your home. "I'm sorry for your loss, Thomas."

When Tom turned to see who the unwelcome visitor was, he couldn't find any words to say except one. "Impossible."

"Quite possible, really," Loki shot back, stepping into the study with palms open in a sign to tell your husband that the god meant no harm. "Anything's possible in this multiverse, I'm slowly coming to find. And in that realm of possibility, I have something to offer you."

"All due respect, I want nothing that you can give," Tom declared sullenly. "You can't give me my wife back."

"And what if I said that I can? Well, in a way."

That suddenly got Tom's full attention, placing an arm in front of your urn as if he was still trying to protect you. As if that could really do anything against a god. "I'm listening," he said cautiously.

"I've recently learnt that in every universe, there is an iteration or an echo of me, and a corresponding iteration of Y/N. In this universe, Thomas, you are my echo. In every universe, Y/N's echo is destined to fall in love with mine, and in almost every universe, that love is reciprocated," the god began to explain, creating an illusion with a wave of his hand of your wedding day.

It was nearly enough to mesmerize Tom completely, almost losing himself in the memory. In happier times. "Hang on, what do you mean almost every universe?"

"Ah, yes. That part. Well, you see, Thomas…in the universes where my echo takes on your form, world-famous actor, hordes of adoring men and women and everyone in between at his feet, getting an entire crowd to fall silent with a finger to his lips--"

"I get it, I get it, can we keep it moving, please?"

"Right then. In the universes where my echo is…Tom Hiddleston, while it is a guarantee that Y/N will love Tom, it is not a guarantee that Tom will love Y/N. There are universes where Tom barely even knows of her existence. She's in the hordes, a part of her soul knowing that she's doing exactly what she was designed to do, but confused as to why she feels as if a part of her is missing somehow."

"That's--" Tom's words choked off in a sob at the back of his throat, a new type of sadness overcoming him as he imagined a world where he never even knew you. Never loved you. "That's miserable."

"It is," the god agreed. "My offer to you is that I can reach into one of these universes where her love for you is unreturned, and I can bring her to you. Fulfill what her heart yearns for, and in return, you have an echo of your wife. Have the time that was stolen from you so harshly. So unfairly."

Tom considered the offer carefully, only moments passing before he had his first question. "What of her universe? Her family?"

"In these worlds she doesn't have much of one. For the most part she's alone, and has learnt to fend for herself in lieu of a support system." Both their hearts broke for those iterations of you, the thought of you taking on the world without anyone by your side was nearly enough to bring both men to their knees. "If you were to accept, then it would be a simple enough spell with barely any ripple effect to nullify her existence and memories of her from the minds of those still around to remember her."

Every part of him wanted to jump at the offer. To accept it without thinking. Getting another chance to spend a life with you? There should have been no hesitation at all. Except…

"If she's anything like my Y/N, she'll be smart enough to ask questions. Why her life's different from what she knew before. Whose remains are in the urn in my study. What do I tell her then?"

"That is entirely up to you." Loki's answer was not in the least bit comforting. "You can conjure up a story that she will be inclined to believe, or you can tell her the truth. Alternatively, I can offer you an easier way out of this as well. Surrender your late wife's remains to me and I can keep her somewhere safe. That way you can live on with creating your new life with this echo of your Y/N without being as tethered to your past; after all, if you wish to start this life with her, then she deserves to have you love her to the fullest extent you can afford. She deserves not to be loved half-heartedly by someone still clinging to the ghosts of his past."

Much as he agreed completely with the sentiment, Tom found himself hesitating at the thought of simply surrendering your ashes to the god. He knew what the trade would mean, and that he in turn would have more time with a version of you; however, a part of him still protested.

For would this not be a dishonor to your memory? To simply let go of you and the time he'd gotten to know you and fall in love with you in exchange for something that might not even live up to his memory of you?

And on the other hand, he thought about the version of you that was doomed to live your life with an unrequited love. The knowledge that your souls were only partly intertwined in that world had him hurt for that iteration of you. You did deserve to be loved with the same magnitude that you gave love. And if he could give that to you, then the only way that he could do so was to accept that this wouldn't be a life wherein he picked up where you and he left off. He would be building something new entirely.

It was a near impossible choice. But ultimately he knew which way he would go.

Loki's offer meant more time with you. It meant having you again. Even if it was an echo of you. At its core, it was still you.

Right?

"What would you do?" he asked the god.

"If I lost my Y/N? I'd turn the multiverse inside out to have her again. Rearrange the Realms itself until she was by my side." He paced the room as he continued his answer. "Any version of her." A smirk tugged at the onyx-haired man's mouth before tilting up his chin, assuming an all-knowing stance. "But seeing as you are an echo of me, you already knew that this was the answer, didn't you? You simply needed to hear it outside of your own thoughts. Solidify your decision."

Tom could only nod, the depth of the situation still tremendously lost on him. All he knew was that if he did this, he would have you back.

He placed your urn on the desk, pushing it towards Loki. "What do I do now?"

The god held out his hand. "Firstly, your wife's ring. I'll need it when I find an echo of her that leads her life all alone. It will be her first tie to this universe. Your universe." Tom placed your wedding ring into his hand. "Secondly, you grieve. You've suffered a great loss, and what I am to do is not a replacement of your late wife, and should not be treated as such. Mourn your loss for the next day. Then after tomorrow night, go about your morning routinely, as if she were alive."

Tom nodded again. "How will I know that it worked?"

Loki only shrugged at the actor. "Have faith. Faith that you'll see your wife again the morning after next."

With that, the god disappeared, taking both your remains and your wedding ring with him. And Tom heeded the advice, crawling into the bed you shared with him, all the memories of the life you built together and the possibilities of the life you were yet to build overwhelming him. The weight of your lost future all but crushing his heart into a million pieces.

And he wept himself to sleep.

Today…

On the second morning after Loki's offer, Tom rose from your shared bed and listened to the god's instructions from days before. He laced his shoes up, went on his usual morning run, changed into business casual attire as if he was scheduled for a Zoom call in a short while, and proceeded to start preparing a breakfast for two.

Once he had coffee brewing, he started preparing a lavish breakfast for you two to share, starting with a fruit platter. "Have faith," he whispered to himself, making the last second decision to make it a touch more decadent with a small bowl of Nutella to dip the fruit into.

If this truly was going to work, he would spoil you at every turn moving forward. Never another minute squandered, nor another craving denied.

"Have faith," he whispered again, putting on an apron to prevent any spills from ruining his white dress shirt and proceeding to slice up the fruit.

Then he heard the bedroom door open. And for the first time in days he felt the tiniest glimmer of hope.

He waited until you made your way down the stairs, fighting every urge to meet you halfway and take you into his arms. He knew you needed to acclimate into this life you'd been suddenly thrust into; Loki had done his part, now it was his turn to ease you into your new reality.

Your footsteps got closer and closer until finally they stopped just outside the kitchen area. That was the only time Tom allowed himself to turn around and look at you, relief flooding his system once he laid his eyes on you. In the silk navy blue nightgown, wearing your wedding ring.

He finally felt like he could breathe again.

"Good morning, sweetheart."

A/N: *peeks from the corner* I promised I'd have a sequel for 'feels like mine' up, and here it issssss 🫡 This isn't 'sworn fealty' after all 🤣 (in all seriousness though I will be working on a sequel to that I just have 0 idea when)

And technically this isn't a sequel but more of a prequel to part 1…all I can promise you is that there is a part 3 and it's spicy 😳👀 Dunno when that'll be out tho because I'll be returning to the requests pile but we'll see where the vibe takes me

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemis @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified

#tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston imagine #muddyorbs writes

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thebadboyfanclub · 2 years ago

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The Lover Of The Seven Kingdoms (Tywin x Reader)

First of all, I’m sorry but you cannot tell me anything when it comes to Tom hiddleston being the perfect young Tywin Lannister. Second, I love writing morally grey female characters and I wrote grant maester pycelle and mushroom in cause I wanted to show how a lot of male historians portray women in one way cause it’s just easier.

The lover of the seven Kingdoms” grant maester Pycelle had used as a description of (y/n) Martell, the second wife of Tywin Lannister, the symbol of femininity for a plethora of men in kings Landing, the mother of lord Ezra Lannister and lady Asena, the scandalous twins and one of the few bastards that later became legitimate and inherited Lannisport, then they had three more, lady Nymeria, Lady Zara and Lord Sorin, (y/n) was the secret passion of Tywin since she stepped foot at court, she was to be Joanna’s lady in waiting.

Her appearance was one carved by the Gods, long dark raven hair that curled down to her waist, olive skin, and almost black eyes, her lips thick, and a body as juicy as the fruits of her land, her twin brother Dorian had sent her to Kings landing as a way to show respect and also expand her horizons.

“Princess (Y/n) had relations with one of the bastards of house Dayne when she denied him the man gutted himself in front of her, Doran sends her away to avoid more scandals caused by her lustful appetite”

Mushroom note, Joanna liked her, she was smart and endearing, and she knew how to play her part, however, what Joanna had not taken in mind is that (y/n) stopped at nothing to get what she wants, in this case, it was the young Tywin Lannister, the tall man with muscles everywhere, blue eyes and blonde hair was the subject of desire for a plethora of ladies, none of them had the guts to go after him, (y/n) was not like them, she had her eyes set and the game had begun.

“My lord”

(Y/n) called for Tywin, the hour was quite late but Tywin was the hand of the king, the hour did not matter when they were things he needed to pay attention to, papers to be signed and payments to be settled.

(Y/n) had studied his schedule, Joanna was already in bed and Tywin was free, most of the servants were dismissed so they were no prowling eyes to catch her.

Tywin halted and turned to look at the girl that called for him, she wore a rather sheer dress which was unlikely of hers, Dornish people were always costumed to very light choices in clothing, still, this was a step further, if the candles burned a bit brighter Tywin would have been able to see… well everything.

“Princess (y/n), is there something wrong?”

“No, not exactly, I was hoping to talk to you, in private”

Tywin hesitated, (y/n) was just outside her chamber, she was holding the door open which meant that her choice of privacy was her room, still, curiosity about what it could be that needed to be discussed in such a secretive way was enough for his feet to go one and then the other inside.

(Y/n) closed the door before she spun to rest her back on the wood, a smirk playing on her lips as her plan was going smoother than she expected, the room was decorated in cherry red and gold colors, some orange as well and the intense smell of vanilla and musk took over Tywins senses.

“So, I would prefer it if you started talking”

“Do you like being the hand of the king?”

“You summoned me to ask me if you like my occupation?”

“No, I summoned you because I have a pair of eyes, eyes clear enough to see that something has been bothering you”

“Well I am flattered that the princess cares to ask for my well-being, however, I must go”

“You can’t lie to me Tywin, if it’s not your duty then it has something to do with me, you have been avoiding me, you can’t even look me in the eye”

Tywin once again chose to not speak he only made a b line for the door to which (y/n) was resting, she had managed to think of everything down to reaching for the handle when he did, making their hands touch, Tywin did not pull his away, he let it rest on top of hers as he towered over her and she looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Is it me, my lord? It is my presence that is bothering you?”

“No”

“No? You are breathing quite heavily, your eyes travel below my lips, and… dare I say you could have moved me if you truly wanted to, no one is here, my lord, you can confess to me”

“(Y/n)-“

“Go on, confess”

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she gawked at Tywin with lustful eyes with a hint of innocence, she had done this before, Tywin was a mere puppet, a bug that got caught in the spiders' web and was now waiting to experience her poisonous bite.

Her kiss could be described as venom, it made his entire body feel like it was burning and her touch was the only remedy, his addiction started and ended with her, he had been fantasizing about her every night, haunting him like a succubus and stealing the life out of him, at an instant he forgot everything, his wife, his status, his entire life would crumble if someone were to find them, none of it mattered, all that he cared about was to see her, take her.

He took her right on her window, some servants had even reported that they could see the young princess bareback as her moans grew some attention, alas none of them thought something of it, most of the castle had seen a generous amount of men go in and out of (y/n)s chamber at all hours of the night.

Tywin was in utter awe with (y/n), he almost felt like he would faint as he reached his high, it was the only time Tywin considered that (y/n) was a practitioner of dark magic. No other woman had held such power over him in this act.

“My lion”

She had whispered in his ear before she kissed him,(Y/n) was the perfect lover, every night he would slip from his chamber and knock on her door, she would be waiting for him, take him up to the sky, and wrap him with her fire that burned as bright as dragon fire.

Tywin was entirely himself around her, she allowed him to be in control and gave him the euphoric theatrics of prowling on her, which made (y/n) giggle a little, it was refreshing and borderline hilarious to move the strings in the background while Tywin thought he was moving them only because she let him touch them.

“I have exciting news”

“Which is?”

“Princess (y/n) is pregnant, how lovely would it be if we get to marry our children? We could secure Dorne and bind my friendship with her”

“We will do no such thing”

“Tywin, think about it if we-“

“You are forgetting an important thing Joanna, the princess is not married, who knows who the father of that bastard is, my child will not marry anyone of such low status”

What else could he have said? We can’t marry them cause they are siblings? Joanna would be crushed, Tywin had run to her chamber that night, not even bothering to knock as he burst into the room startling her, still once she laid her eyes on him she smiled, she dared to smile as if nothing has happened.

“How dare you announce your pregnancy without even telling me first”

“I thought you had noticed”

“No, I hadn’t and Joanna wants to marry your child with one of our children”

“I am sure we will find a way around it”

“Find a way around it? How are you so calm when the world is crumbling on your feet? You are not married nor betrothed, this child will be declared a bastard”

“This child will be my firstborn, a child created by you and me if you remember, that is all that matters to me”

“Not to the rest of the realm”

“I do not care about the rest of the realm Tywin, that is your problem, it will be royalty in Dorne, I do not care what they call my child here”

“Some said she bathed in goats blood every full moon, she would burn candles and speak in foreign languages to make Tywin stay by her side”

Mushroom claimed, it could be true or just whispers since no one understood the powerful hold that she had on the young lord, Tywin was a fearsome man, calculated and ambitious, yet (y/n) could sway him in any direction she wished with a bat of an eyelash.

It was such a peculiar moment, (y/n) gave birth to twins four moons after her lady Joanna, Ezra and Asena, both of them had their fathers' eyes, sapphires that shined in the light of the sun as (y/n) fed them from her breasts, Tywin had held Asena first, she looked nothing like Cersei still something in him knew that the two girls were born to be each others nemesis, fate had played him like a fiddle.

“I was thinking of going back to Dorne”

“Why?”

“My brother said it is not safe for us, people will talk and I do not want my children to grow up in a venomous environment”

“No, no you will stay, Ezra and Asena Hill has a nice ring to it”

“They are Martells, my love, they shall be called that”

(Y/n) was not ashamed of her children, on the contrary, she adored them and kept them by her side at all times, she taught them how to walk, talk, sing, and dance, a endearing mother with a backbone made of Valyrian steel, a combination made straight out of the seven rings of hell.

“Push, my lady”

“I can’t, (y/n) please make it stop”

“Maester, what is taking so long?”

“The babe has breached, it will not let me pull it out”

“It hurts (y/n)”

“I know, my lady, just one more push”

Joanna fought tooth and nail to survive, unfortunately, her labor did not harvest any fruit for her, the son survived but Lady Joanna did not even get to hold him, grant Maester pycelle held Tyrion and presented him to lord Tywin who was utterly disgusted by the ugly creature.

“That is no son of mine, throw him in the river”

“You will do no such thing”

“This matter does not concern you, princess”

“It does, you may be excused maester”

Pycelle only nodded and left them alone, a strange aura surrounded both of them, Joanna was gone, a deformed babe had taken her life, and (y/n)s belly was ready to pop any minute, what was to be done now?

“Does cruelty excite you?”

“Cersei and Jaime are both healthy and Lannister featured, that… thing could not have been created by me”

“It was not the babes' fault, so I have to remind you that you are also guilty of the thing you are accusing a dead woman of?”

Tywin was a man but that meant little to nothing, if Tyrion was a bastard then there was no difference between him and (y/n)s children, Tywin was in no place to frown upon such an act since he was having another child on the way, a bastard.

“Listen to me, my love, I know you loved Joanna and I loved her too, but the babe survived, it’s the last thing we have from her, grief is a strong emotion, but we have each other to lean on, don’t you want this for us Tywin? for me?”

There it was, her secret weapon, that sweet voice that dripped of honey and the big doe eyes, she knew how to play the damsel in distress down to every detail, Tywin put his lips in before he shook his head in defeat, his wife had departed but his mistress stood before him, demanding a place at his table and life, which he was willing to give her.

Cersei was frantic, the announcement of her father's betrothal to the princess (y/n) and the reaffirmation of her bastard children had brought her to an utmost stage of rage that she was going around her room like a hurricane, she was throwing things and cursing as loud as her lungs allowed it.

How could he do this to her? To her family? That woman had slithered her way into their life like a snake and was now feasting over her mother's dead body, this was just plain disrespectful to her mother.

Tywin found Cerseis handmaidens outside her chamber as the sounds that came from it could put to shame any wild animal, the ladies looked frightened and not one of them dared to go in, however, all of them tried to warn him in leaving the lady be, suggesting that this has probably happened before.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“Get out”

“Young lady I advise you-“

“Shut up! I don’t want to listen to you! How could you marry her?! How could you do this to my mother?”

That was the last thing she said before a harsh slap landed on Cerseis's cheek, the girl was taken back by the act since her father had never hit her, he would discipline her but mostly by raising his voice or finding peculiar tricks of punishment, for Tywin to get physical with his daughter meant that she had gone too far.

“You do not get to judge my decisions, you will welcome your brother and sisters and you will be nice to my wife whether you like it or not, did I make myself clear?”

Silence only looks that could kill were exchanged

“Did I make myself clear?”

“Yes Father”

“My love?”

(Y/n) walked into the room, she had heard everything although she chose to reside in the act of being clueless, Tywin had turned away from his daughter and walked to his soon-to-be wife’s side, his hand found hers and brought it up to his lips, (y/n) smiled fondly before she scanned the room with her eyes, a puzzled look on her face as the room was upside down.

“What has happened? Is the young lady alright? The handmaidens were stuttering when I asked about the noises”

“Yes, no need to worry, my dear, Cersei was just redecorating”

“Oh, well if she wishes I can help with that”

“No, no, Cersei is quite specific, she prefers doing things her way, hence this scenery, we should live her”

“As the young lioness wishes, but before we leave”

(Y/n) took a few steps so she can stand ahead of Cersei, Cersei truly felt like a lioness, one that was trapped in a cage to be exact, as much as Cersei wanted to believe she could outsmart anyone (y/n) had years up on the horse, so naturally she was now trotting past Cersei with her caring smile and eyes that lit up, Cersei was left to looking like a kid that threw a tantrum whilst (y/n) looked like a mother that did her best to keep the peace.

“I know you are angry at me, I would be too, I will not try to be your mother, I do however hope that one day you will view me as your ally or your friend even”

(Y/n) went to caress Cerseis cheek which Cersei flinched away from that earned her a cold hard stare from her father, (y/n) only bit her lip in defeat, then it was replaced by a smile of hope, (y/n) genuinely wanted things to go as smooth as possible, to keep all of Joanna's children close to her, it was the least she could do she wasn’t a complete monster, as much as Cersei liked to think of her as one.

“Perhaps it’s too soon, I am asking way too much of you, I hope you have a great day, sweetling”

“Put everything back in its place, now”

Tywin instructed in a stern voice before they exited the chamber that Hurricane Cersei was occupying, Tywin was sure that she would throw something at the door once it was closed and he stood correct when a loud bang was heard.

“She is a young girl that lost her mother, having an attitude with me is inevitable”

“Cersei is not a normal young girl, she has a superiority complex over everyone, our children will not interact with her yet”

“That won’t be a problem, Asena is not… fond of Cersei either”

“I wonder why, let us not think of Cersei right now, it is time for Nymeria to be fed”

“See how beautiful it sounds when it rolls off the tongue? And you wanted to name her Lydia”

Since this babe was the first legitimate child of Tywin and (y/n) he had the suggestion of picking the name of the beloved girl, on the contrary (y/n) was not budging, she was adamant on naming her daughter after the biggest warrior queen Dorne has ever known, her precious Nymeria.

“The princess never wanted to marry lord Tywin, she was far more interested in keeping their relationship private, howbeit Lord Tywin was too consumed by his emotions for her to consider the fact that the princess could have been wed, she simply chose not to”

Grant maester Pycelle added when asked about their wedding. (Y/n) did not care about her children being legitimate or owning land, Dorne was her home, her brother had congratulated her on the birth of her twins and even offered to have them in Dorne, and her family was delighted by (y/n) bringing forth new heirs for the Martells, it was only Tywin that wanted to make it official, to let everyone know that the princess was now cloaked by the lion, her life as the lady of the rock had begun and Dorne had entered a land that they never really thought of earning.

“In a day you will be my wife, therefore, my children’s good mother, I expect them to treat you as such”

“I do not, Tywin they are in mourning, you cannot expect them to make it easy for me”

“I am not dimly witted my dearest, I know they will have some thoughts over our marriage, albeit I will make sure they keep it to themselves”

Requests are open!

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ladylaviniya · 11 months ago

Text

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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deanwritings · 1 year ago

Text

The Guest House - Chapter 6

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Series Summary: Dean Winchester is going through a nasty divorce. He doesn't have much left to his name, but what he does have is his house. Leave it to his soon-to-be ex wife to find a way to even ruin that for him. Enter Y/N, who is looking to get away from life for a bit, and stumbles right into the middle of it all.

The Guest House Master List

Word Count: 3,288

A/N: Almost missed this week's chapter because I've been obsessively reading Fourth Wing and Iron Flame. Took a lot of willpower to put the books down and get this finished 😅

You were absolutely shocked, flabbergasted, dismayed, aghast, and every other word in the thesaurus when Dean offered to be your hiking buddy.

Never in a million years did you ever expect the man to offer you any favors, not alone fix your car, and definitely not take you hiking.

After he left for work, a part of you still wanted to go. You weren’t one to wait around if you didn’t have to, but if you were being honest with yourself, you had been scared to go alone. The only times you had ever hiked alone was when you were a fearless teenager, and even then you had your 110 pound dog, Beau, by your side, so you never had to worry about someone bothering you. Plus, those were your home trails, you knew them even when you took a wrong turn. Mount Carmel was entirely new to you. Even though the hiking reviews said the trails were relatively easy, there was always a chance of missing a trail marker, especially being out of season. Hiking markers were typically re-sprayed in spring, so it had been almost a year of weathering the elements since the last time they’d likely have been updated.

And of course, the big question ringing in your mind – could you trust Dean? The truth was, you didn’t know much about him. Every interaction up until that point had been contentious at best. Not to mention that gun he first greeted you with. Sure, you two had a nice morning together, but was that enough to trust him and let him lead you through the woods alone?

So you decided to give Sydney a call.

“Absolutely not.” Her voice rings through the receiver. “Just cause he was nice to you once means nothing.” You sigh as you throw yourself onto the couch.

“I know.” And you do. That’s why you were calling her for a second opinion. “But he actually seemed genuine. Surprisingly so.”

“Nope. No. No way.” She reinforces her position on it. “Please don’t make me have to do an interview on Dateline. I will not be nice. I will say ‘I told her not to go but she was dumb and didn’t listen.’ Twitter will have a field day with it.” You laugh quietly as you let your head fall against the back of the couch, staring up at the plank ceilings that match the floors.

“Fair enough,” you conceded, knowing that what she’s saying is absolutely true. “But what if I told you he was really hot?” You raise your eyebrows even though she can’t see you.

The other line is silent for a moment.

“How hot we talking? Like Tom Hiddleston hot or Chris Hemsworth hot?”

“Hemsworth, definitely.” You smile as you think about Dean’s defined features; a strong jaw covered in a few days worth of scruff and his oddly beautiful green eyes. You don’t think you’ve ever considered a man’s eyes beautiful until you met him. You also enjoyed the way his hair swooped over his forehead. It wasn’t long, per say, but you definitely could see yourself grabbing a handful of it if the time were right.

“Are we forgetting the vindictive ex-wife?” Sydney chimes in, breaking you from your daydreaming before it takes a shameful turn. “I mean, he had to do something to her to make her hate him that much.”

“I’m not trying to marry him, Syd.” You roll your eyes. “Yeah, he’s kinda an asshole, but he’s a hot asshole. And it’s not like I’m going to be around here much longer.” You only had about two weeks left on your rental, and now that Dean was starting to come around to you, the thought crossed your mind that maybe he could be that vacation fling you had been hoping to find.

“Okay, well I gotta get back to work.” You can hear her heels click before background voices filter in. You glance over to the kitchen clock; 1:31. Her lunch break was ending. “Just make smart choices, please.” Her voice pleads just a bit. You know she trusts you, but you would be looking out for her if the roles were reversed.

“Always do, Sydy. I’ll text you later.”

As you hang up, you realize that you haven’t actually gotten lunch yet for yourself. You had some cold cuts in the fridge, but considering you were supposed to be out hiking right now, you were antsy to get out of the house.

You decide it’s a good day to head back into town and grab some lunch, and who knows, maybe you’ll run into a certain mechanic. The idea has you smiling as you grab your coat and throw on your boots, not before freshening up with some quick makeup before you go. Just in case.

Thankfully, your car starts with just one easy press of the ignition, and your lips turn upward as you think about Dean saving you this morning.

A few minutes later, you’re parked downtown, this time getting a spot right in front of BILLIES. Your eyes scan the street, not seeing the tell-tale forest green truck of your neighbor.

It had been wishful thinking, but you still need lunch so you head inside.

“Afternoon, hun.” Billie herself greets you, and you give her a wave as you take a seat at the counter. This was your fourth visit now, and each time Billie had always greeted you with a warm smile and treated you like a regular, even though she knew you were leaving soon.

She drops a menu and a water in front of you.

“You know the deal.” She gives you a smirk before turning towards the kitchen. And you do. Once you are ready to order, just flag her down.

You’ve been making a point to order something new each time you visit, so today you were going with a chipotle turkey cheeseburger, curly fries, and your usual Diet Coke.

Once your food is ready, Billie drops it in front of you, but you stop her before she can hurry away. Even with a near-empty diner, she always manages to find something to keep her busy.

“Hey, can I get your opinion on something?” She nods, her hair bouncing around her as she drops a hand to her hip.

“What’s up, hun?”

“You know Dean pretty well, right?” Her chestnut eyes narrow at you.

“Sure do,” Her tone is lighter than her gaze. “Known that boy since he was a tyke. Babysat him and his brother a few times.”

Well that was interesting, you didn’t know Dean had a brother. Not that you would, but considering all your run-ins, you assumed he would have been around. Maybe he didn’t live here anymore.

“He offered to take me hiking on Mount Carmel on Thursday. Obviously I barely know him, he’s safe to go with right? Like, I don’t have to worry about him killing me or anything?” Her head falls back with a deep laugh, and her hands clap together. It takes her a moment to collect herself as her chest heaves, and she wipes a tear away from her eye. You just watch her with wide eyes as she draws the attention of the few patrons enjoying a late lunch.

“Oh, LORD, I have not laughed like that in a while.” She throws a hand onto her chest.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then?” You assume from her reaction.

“Sweetie, that boy is harmless.” She assures you, a hint of laughter still in her tone. “A pain in the ass, maybe, but you don’t have anything to worry about with Dean.”

“Well that I knew.” You pick up a fry and take a bite.

“How’d you manage to talk him into taking you for a hike anyhow?” Billie asks as she rests one hand on the counter and the other finding its way back to her hip.

“He offered,” you shrug, biting into another fry as her eyebrows shoot up.

“He offered to take you hiking?” She parrots in disbelief and you nod. Her eyes look you up and down and you suddenly sit up straighter under her scrutiny.

“What?” You now feel self-conscious. You don’t know what she’s looking at or for, but heat rises to your ears and cheeks as she looks you over.

She just tsks and shakes her head, pushing off the counter.

“Just surprised is all.” She gives a small shrug as someone behind you flags her down. “Enjoy your meal, hun.”

And with that, she hurries into the dining room, leaving you confused and hungry as you pick up your burger and dig in.

Dean’s toweling off his hair, the bathroom steamed and warm from his shower, when his phone buzzes on the counter.

He clicks his phone alive, 7:02 in big white numerals above the text notification bearing your name.

He stands up a little straighter as he clicks open the text, his eyes quickly scanning your words.

If the offer still stands, I wouldn’t mind a hiking buddy on Thursday.

He smiles down at the text. He obviously didn’t know you very well, but he fully anticipated you ignoring his warning and going hiking alone today anyways.

But his shoulders drop as he realizes he’s now committed to a hike and he drops his head back.

“Fuck,” he mumbles as he tossed his damp towel in the hamper and heads into the bedroom, thinking about his response as he grabs some sweats, a henley, and a thick pair of socks, because god damn, it was cold out.

Once he’s changed, he picks his phone back up.

Consider it done. He texts back as he heads downstairs to whip up some dinner.

Dean didn’t have a lot of skills outside the auto shop, but one thing he was good at was cooking. He spent a lot of his childhood watching cooking shows with his mom as she tried to up her own ability, his early years being a lot of tv dinners and mac and cheese. By the time he was a teenager, she could pull together the most delicious pot roast and mashed potatoes you ever had. And Dean was her number one helper.

“My little sous chef.” She would call him until he begged her to stop one day when he was twelve.

The thought makes him smile, and he realizes he hasn’t called her in a while.

Once he gets out the ingredients he needs, he grabs his headphones and pops them into his ears.

“Hey Siri,” He unwraps the strip steak and slaps it down onto a cutting board. “Call mom.”

The phone rings as he heavily salts the beef.

“Dean!” His mother's excitement makes him wince as it nearly blows out his eardrums.

“Hi, mom,” he smiles, happy to be talking to her for the first time in well over a week. He tried to call her every few days, but as his divorce has been draining him mentally and financially, he’s been calling less. And at this moment, he feels really bad about it.

“It’s been a while.” She says much softer. “How are things?” The genuineness in her voice immediately eases the stress that has burrowed in his shoulders ever since Lisa left.

As he heats up and butters his cast iron skillet, he fills his mom in on happenings at the shop, Mary needing full updates on Benny, Adam, and the rest of the gang. How the divorce is going, and Dean fills her in about his guest.

“Dean,” she sighs. He knows this divorce hurts her. She had loved Lisa like the daughter she never had, and was so excited to watch her son start his life with what she thought was a lovely woman. He still remembers her heartbreak when he told her that he caught Lisa cheating and that she had left him.

“Sweetheart, is this really worth dragging on?” He rolls his eyes as he bastes the steak.

Here comes the mom lecture.

“I really wish you could just move on from all this. I know she hurt you, but Dean, how long are you going to continue giving her power over your life?” His shoulders drop as he sighs.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to move on, but to be honest, he just didn’t know how. Everything went so wrong so fast, his head was spinning like a top, and that was before he found Lisa in bed with Gavin.

“I really want you to be happy, Dean.” The break in her voice has him shaking his head. This was another reason he hasn’t been calling as often. He didn’t want his own mother to pity him.

Here he was, 32 years old, in the middle of a divorce, with nothing but a house and bitterness, while his brother was thriving.

At 28, Sam was proving to be a shining star at the law firm he started with when he graduated law school. And last month, he proposed to his college sweetheart, Jessica. His life was just beginning, while Dean’s was stuck in the mud.

“I am happy, mom.” He lies. “And I’ll be a lot happier once this divorce is over and Lisa is out of my life for good.” He carefully flips his steak, continuing to baste so it doesn’t burn. He can hear his mother’s sigh in his ears. She always knew when he was lying.

“Are you coming up to visit anytime soon?” She changes the subject.

“Actually, I’m coming up this weekend. There’s a car auction Sunday and Rick wants me to come tune up a few of his cars before he puts them on the block.”

“Oh good!” His mother’s excitement returns, and they carry on with their conversation.

Fifteen minutes later, Dean carries his finished plate to the table; seared stripe steak and roasted green beans with some leftover potatoes he had from a few nights ago.

He rubs his hands together before he cuts into the steak, humming at the perfectly medium rare center.

After a few bites, he picks up his phone, and sees he has a missed text from you stamped 24 minutes ago, while he was on the phone with his mom.

Not sure if you wake up early on your days off, but if you do, I was thinking a sunrise hike? But if not I’m happy to go anytime.

Dean purses his lips as he takes another bite, this time mixing in some mashed potato.

He Googles Thursday’s sunrise: 6:59am. The hiking trails were about 25 minutes away, and it takes about an hour to hike to the lookout. Doing the math backwards, they would have to leave here by 5:30am. Definitely a little early for his taste on his one day off this week, but he invited himself on your hike, so he was going to swallow down his own distaste for that early of a start and agree.

Sounds good to me. Meet me in the driveway 5:30am. We can take my car.

Dean’s about to put his phone down but the three text bubbles jump up on the screen, and only a few seconds later, your next text.

On second thought, how about a post-sunrise hike?

Dean smiles and lets you know that works, and you agree to meet in the driveway at 7:30am instead.

See you then. You reply, and Dean closes out the screen and returns to his dinner.

He’s not sure why, but he feels almost excited for tomorrow. Which is odd considering how much he fucking hates hiking. And though you two have been civil, he still wouldn't say he likes you. He just doesn’t dislike you anymore, finally able to separate you from the scheme Lisa dropped you into.

But Dean doesn’t dwell on it, more than likely just looking forward to a change of scenery as he takes a big bite of steak and settles into his seat.

“I can’t believe you consider this fun,” Dean huffs behind you, watching every step he takes as you transverse the mountainside. The incline is not overly steep, and thankfully the path isn’t too rocky, but the real danger is the one Dean warned you about; the ice. Thankfully you haven’t fallen flat on your ass, but you’ve definitely slipped a few times, once which had you rolling out your ankle to make sure you hadn’t sprained it only fifteen minutes in.

“No one forced you to come.” You remind him with an easy breath as you focus back on your own steps, your gloved hands resting easy on the lapels of your backpack. Not that you’re trying to taunt him while he seems to be struggling as he staggers behind you.

“You know, you could walk on a flat road.” Dean continues to complain a few minutes later, as the trees start to fall away, replaced by boulders and lingering snow patches. “I mean, really, what the hells the difference? There’s plenty of trees on the road by my place if that’s what you’re looking for.” He gripes as you turn over your shoulder, watching as he steps around an iced-over puddle.

“Tell me Dean, are you always this grumpy, or do I just seem to bring out the worst in you?” You pause and fully look towards him, dropping your hands across your chest as he takes a few more cautious steps, closing the distance between you as he steps up on a rock, the added height making him tower over you.

You’ve been at this for almost an hour, and Dean has complained almost every chance he’s had. It was very clear that he did not enjoy hiking, and it was starting to sour your morning. This was supposed to be your get-into-nature, positive energy, meditative morning hike. You had no problem taking this hike alone, he was the one who invited himself. So it was time he started acting like the guest he was.

“Must be you, sweetheart.” He grins widely down at you, his white teeth flashing, and you suck in a breath as your heart halts.

Holy shit, this man is beautiful. His hair is tucked into a gray knit hat, and his broad frame is hidden under a thick, camel hunting coat. But his eyes. Those green eyes are shining bright in the early morning sun, and they may be the most amazing eyes you’ve ever seen, on a man or woman. It’s almost unfair.

Truly, what the hell is a man as good-looking as Dean doing hiding away in this small town? Especially with the city only two hours away. He could easily be a model or an actor if he wanted to. The world opens doors for beautiful people.

“Lucky me,” you regain your composure and return a tight smile as you turn on your heel, but as you shift, your left foot slips out from under your boot and you start to fall forward, your hands shooting out to brace your fall just as two hands grip your hips, catching you.

“Warned you about that ice.” You can hear the cheeky grin in his voice as he helps you straighten up, his fingers digging deliciously into your skin through your workout tights before he lets go.

You want to shoot back a sassy remark, but you bite your tongue.

“Thank you.” You offer instead, turning towards him carefully as to not lose your footing again.

“Don’t mention it,” he smiles down at you as he pushes past, taking the lead for the first time since you started your hike, and you have no choice but to follow.

Keep Reading

NEXT TIME:

“This is weird, right?” You say to yourself once you’re back to your little cabin. Who the fuck goes on a trip with a man they barely know, to stay with his mother of all people.

Aunt Rose would. Your inner voice rings out. Hell, she would jump at the opportunity for the chance at a fun weekend at a fancy car show.

I mean, it did sound cool. You’ve never been to a car show before, not that you know much about them, but you do “ohhh” and “ahhh” whenever a nice car drives by. You can at least appreciate them. And what were you going to do this weekend? The loneliness was starting to grate at you. Turns out four weeks alone wasn’t as relaxing as you expected it to be. It was nice at first, but now it was getting boring. You’ve hiked, you’ve read, you’ve meditated, you’ve shopped. Though it sounds like the town is bustling with city tourists during the warmer months, there was not much going on while there’s snow on the ground. Really, the only thing you could think of was to head to Max’s. Maybe you could meet someone this time, and not get interrupted since Dean won’t be around.

But you know that’s not what you want to do.

Oh god, Sydney is going to murder me.

You pick up your phone and open a text.

I’m in.

Forever Tag List

@iprobablyshipit91 @likesiriusly @kittyque @findingfitnessforme @wonderange @captainemwinchester @xtina2191 @smoothdogsgirl @mogaruke @chin-up-love @tsunadesenjuuchiha @lyarr24 @globetrotter28 @krazykelly @roseblue373 @k-slla @stephv213 @kaydallas21 @nerdymuffinbonkcloud

#dean x reader #dean winchester #dean imagine #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean x y/n #dean winchester fanfiction #the guest house

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the-desilittle-bird · 11 months ago

Note

Hi can i request a tom hiddleston x desi actress reader where she is pregnant and already has kids who hav hindi names which r ver cute and she craves indian food in the middle of interviews and shoots

AN - back again and I have plenty of requests and if anyone wants to request something then please feel free to send me them.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

Crazy Cravings

Tom Hiddleston x Desi!Reader

Summary: You are an actress but before that, you are pregnant…

Tag list: @shopping, @bbgmonsay, @lastwandastan, @eudximoniakr, @saraelizabeth26, @girlnred, @hc-geralt-23, @omgsuperstarg, @strangesthirdeye, @clea-strange-is-the-way, @lana, @kenzi-woycehoski, @nyx2021, @all-things-fandomstuck, @newt-scamander-is-hot-af, @moon-light1415, @candypurplebutterfly, @littlesatanicassholebitch, @nats-whore, @lady-athanasia, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @thatgirlthatreadswattpad, @hyacinthus007, @shine101

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff

“How are you feeling, meri jaan?” she heard the soothing voice of her husband before she felt his hand over her protruding belly. A giggle left her throat as he placed a kiss on her cheek, chuckling softly against her skin. “I feel better now,” she replies with a grin.

Tom hums, wrinkling his eyebrows as he settles down next to her on the leather couch as everyone around them worked hard to get the place ready for the interview which would start any moment now.

As actors, Tom and (Y/N) could never take a day off, especially when they were in the center of the show. And in times like this, with the lady pregnant, Tom found himself worrying more and more about her; constantly asking whether she was fine or not, if she needed something or not.

No wonder her cousins and mother started teasing him by calling him a “mother”.

“Hello, Tom and (Y/N),” greeted the lady who was supposed to take their interview. The pair smiled brightly, greeting the lady back whose name they learnt to be Bianca.

“Are we ready?” The director asked, earning a couple of nods from the crew and thumbs up from the guests. “Well then. Lights. Camera and Action.”

And then began the interview.

The beginning was always the same; introductions, their achievements, a few questions about their current show. But after that came the personal part, one that rendered the actor a bit uncomfortable as he tried to keep his life to himself.

“So, you two have a daughter together and another little Hiddleston is on the way,” the interviewer states with a smile, making the couple glance at each other with smile as (Y/N) placed a hand over her overgrown bump. “Yes.”

“And your daughter’s name is Kavya, isn’t it?” Bianca queries, struggling with the pronunciation for a while before Tom helps her. “Yes. We decided on an Indian name because they just sound so… soothing. Like hot chocolate in winters,” Tom gushed, his face reddening up as he glanced at his wife.

“Awww… that’s sweet. (Y/N), how is the pregnancy going for you?”

“Honestly, everything is fine except for the cravings,” she whined, making the Loki actor burst into a fit of laughter as he remembered the many nights when he woke up to finding his wife cooking some Indian dish or digging deep into the kitchen cabinets to find Maggi.

“What do you crave?” Bianca asks, her eyes gleaming with happiness as she watched her favourite Hollywood couple share a glance before laughing. Once the laughter dies down, Tom replies, “it can be the weirdest thing. One second she wants to have Jalebi and the next she wants to find some Namkeen.”

“I am the mix of sweet and savoury,” she argues instantly, making him smile as he nodded, leaning in to place a kiss on her temple, “meri khatti-meethi.”

(Y/N) merely gave him a side eye before returning her focus to their interviewer who had started her next question. “Correct me if I am wrong, but you were pregnant when you were about to finish shooting for this show, right?”

The couple nodded, prompting Bianca to continue, “did you crave anything on the set?” Before the misses could answer, Tom lets out a dramatic sigh before answering, “one fine morning, she comes to my trailer, donning her costume, and literally commands me ‘I want to have fish curry made by my mother, so talk to her, take the recipe and cook it.’ And leaves before I could nod. I was so bewildered and like what should I do.”

Everyone around them laughed loudly except for (Y/N) who glared daggers at her husband before leaning in to whisper softly into his ear.

“I want to eat Samosa.”

“Haye Bhagwaan!”

#tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston x desi!reader #tom Hiddleston x female reader #desi reader #pregnant reader #fem!reader #tom hiddleston imagine

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moonstruck-poet · 1 year ago

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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.

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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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lokidokieokie · 2 years ago

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The Price of Deception Masterlist

Summary: After discovering Loki's failed attempt at taking over Earth, his family confronts him and he must earn their forgiveness.

Pairing: Avengers!Loki x Fem!Wife!Reader

Warning(s): angst, and uhhh more angst, I don't really know what else to put here

Note: Slight AU here, Loki did not die and the events of Thor did not go to the extent of the film

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 coming soon

#loki masterlist #Loki Laufeyson #loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x fem!reader #loki x wife!reader #loki laufeyson x fem!reader #avengers au #loki au #marvel au #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston character #angst #dad!loki

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smolvenger · 5 months ago

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A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter 21 (Loki x Fem Reader Crossover Series, Court of Thorns and Roses AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters- Especially the events in the second book, A Court of Mist and Fury and onwards. 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.

Chapter Summary: You are reunited with your husband. And a new key to defeating Grendel is revealed. Prompting the beginning of several journeys across time in Midgard. Starting in Buffalo, NY, 1901.

Word Count: 6K (make some tea)

Series Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ SMUT! SMUT at the beginning!(Masturbation, penis in vagina sex). Curse Words. Bullying. Mentions of violence. Grammar and spelling mistakes that slipped my radar. A plot hole that I will figure out how to fill later. Proceed with caution, but I take full responsibility for how I portray dark subject matter and if it is not done tastefully or well. If I miss anything that could be triggering, it is your responsibility to tell me as soon as possible so I can tag it here. Otherwise, enjoy!

DICK-tionary: Smut starts at "Loki....Loki, please, I need you," and ends at “Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded."

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

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

Loki carried you to his bed.

No, it wasn’t just his bed anymore, you reminded yourself. It was your bed.

Laying you down on top of it, not caring for the stains of dirt and blood on your nightgown, he hovered gently over you. He pressed his lips to yours. His body pressing on top of you. You cupped his face and kept him close. Already your hips touching. You pulled in for another kiss. You wrapped your arms around him.

No more fire. No more blood. You needed tenderness. Intimacy. Wanting to forget your name, forget everything except him. To not feel the hilt of a blade. Instead, you felt his hand bunching up your skirt, exploring your leg again as if it was the first time he saw your care skin.

Reaching out your hand onto his, you led it up your body. Your skirt was left as you led him to touch you. You stopped the path on one of your breasts. You could hear the breath in him tighten as he felt it, bunching it up to see how the bodice of your gown was lowering. Wanting to show him more.

“Loki…please…please, I need you…” you begged.

He paused and released his hand.

“Shhh,” he hushed you.

One of his long fingers traced your cheek, going down from your neck to the collar of your nightgown. A tiny gasp came out of you as he dragged it down.

“No need to remind me, my dear. The way you react when I touch you- I know you need me…”

. You shivered as that one long finger went between your breastbone. His eyes greedily searching for your nipples, perked beneath the whiteness.

“My poor little wife, all alone out there without me…”

He lowered his finger’s trail to your stomach. He then went to beneath your skirt, feeling your leg again.

“How badly did she miss me, I wonder?”

Going up, just barely before your entrance. You felt your hips buck to him. A smile of deviousness graced your husband’s lips. You were getting wet between your legs, you felt your breath hitch and part of you tremble. Then he removed it.

“What a pitiful little gown you have on. Now that you’ll be in here every night, I’ll have you wearing ones of silk that cover even less. And only for me. Yet this…”

He undid the bodice of your nightgown and pulled it down over your shoulders, revealing your breasts.

“You may as well be naked in this! I may as well…”

He tugged it down and you helped him. Flicking it off to the floor. With a simple flick, your nightgown vanished and you were naked.

“Well, well- what do we have here?” he teased.

This time his hand caught your bare breast and squeezed it, a thumb over the nipple. You let out a moan.

“Tell me, my pet- did you miss me?” he asked.

“Yes,” you breathed out.

“Did you get wet at the thought of me? Of our little trysts?”

“I…I did…”

He went to your ear, barely kissing it as he whispered.

“Did you touch yourself then?” he whispered.

“Yes…”

He went to your hand, entwining his fingers with yours.

“I would do it…alone…in my room…it would be night…I’d be lonely, I couldn’t sleep…and I would think of you….I’d think of the cabin. When you deflowered me. Then when you took me on the table. Or our wedding night..and I…I…I needed you and…and I remembered where you would touch me, so I…”

He took your wrist gently and moved it to your sex.

“Show me how…how would you touch yourself at night, alone in your bed…” he whispered.

With a breath, you slid one finger in, rubbing it against your swollen clit. You began to strum it at a steady rhythm, your hips moving to it. A moan escaped you. He watched greedily, smiling wide.

Your breath hitched. You felt something rise. You made the strumming faster, opening your legs wider.

“L-Loki- I’d-I’d think of you…think of you and…”

He grabbed your wrist and pinned it above you.

“Wait- wait,” he ordered.

The lungs in your air nearly halted. You were frustrated- so close to release. And here he was, as clothed as you were naked.

“There’s a certain sight you’ve been missing, my dear…and your poor little fingers could never quite recreate what we have here…let me fix both…”

With a tilt of his head, his clothes vanished as well. You took in his strong abdominals, the little dark hairs on his chest, his wide pectorals for his slim frame. His cock- large and so hard it touched his stomach.

Loki leaned closer. He pinned you down onto the bed. You felt his erection near you, grazing your skin, your body. He grabbed your legs and hoisted them up.

“I want you loud…your parents will know who gives their good little girl pleasure every night…I want you loud…I want every person in this castle to hear, and when you cum it’s my name you’ll be crying out- they’ll know who you married to…and no man in that muddy town and no man in that castle can lay hands on what is mine, hm? Because none can make her cum like I can…”

He stopped your hand, raising it back up. He teased your entrance and you felt yourself shiver.

“Loki…Loki please…just…just take me, fuck me- fuck me into this bed…”

He lowered himself. You eagerly pulled yourself and kissed his neck. That was where he was weak. He let out a groan as you did. Your hips met his. Your entrance grazed him.

“Please….just love me…fuck me…” you begged in whispers between kisses.

He hovered right where he would be inside you.

“Wait…” he rasped. You were shaking, desperate for him.

“Tell me you’re mine…and I’ll give you what you want…”

Part of you froze beneath him.

“Say it!” he ordered sharply.

“I-I-I’m yours!” you whispered.

He smiled.

“Good….good little wife…”

With one thrust he was inside you. Deep, a right angle, hitting past your clit. You moaned out.

“Yes-yes like that- Norns-I’ve missed this-I’ve missed you-Filling you-Feeling you around me, trying to have all of me- and doing it-” he groaned out.

He held up your legs and then slammed his hips in. You let out a cry. His pace increased.

“You-you wanted-wanted to be fucked?! Here-” he said.

With a gasp, he got fast. He was harsher than when he took your maidenhead in the cabin on a winter’s night. He began to pound into you. Your breasts bouncing.

“Oh! Oh god-god-fuck-fuck yes-” You cried out.

“Yes, I’m your god- and-and you want to cum, don’t you?” he panted as he pounded into you. “God, you beneath, begging for me-I’m-I’m not gonig to last either-I-”

One hand lowered to your clit, edging you on. The spinning rose. The bed was already hitting the wall.

“Yes-I’m yours- Loki-Loki I’m-I’m going to-to-”

The pleasure burst. A moany, desperate “F-fuck!” flew out of you.

A sound came from Loki as he too reached his climax and groaned in gradual spurts. As if it grew out of him. His hot seed shooting inside you.

He was panting, his mouth open. His blue eyes opened to look down at you and a smile was on him, despite himself.

“Hold me, just hold me now- please,” you pleaded.

Loki released how he held himself and gently lowered on top of you. Not for lust, but for tenderness. He held onto you and nuzzled into your skin. Hugging him back, you rubbed your fingers in circles against his back. The silence was filled with your souls returning to your body.

Catching your breath, you released a little of the embrace to look into his eyes.

“I love you,” you whispered.

He smiled. No ironic smirk, but a genuine, sweet smile. He leaned into your touch.

“I love you so much I cannot even say a thing right now…” he replied.

“Then don’t,” you said.

Moving your arms back around his body, you pulled him close. Embracing each other in silence, feeling each other’s pulse, and the movement of breath in the other. And not saying one word but basking in the warmth of each other. If there was a Heaven or Valhalla, you knew you had tasted it now.

Minutes passed blissfully. Until you felt your stomach’s emptiness like a knife inside of you. Then you whispered a request into his ear. Loki nodded and conjured soft robes of silk for both of you.

He opened the door, gesturing for a servant in the hallway to approach him.

“Please bring my wife something to eat,” he asked.

The servant nodded and left. Soon they returned with a meal on a golden platter..

As Loki accepted it, you heard the Servant begin to speak boldly.

“Your parents say there is a crucial meeting in an hour. It’s concerning Grendel. They hope you and the Princess shall be present. It is in the usual room,” he reported.

“Very well. Tell them we shall be ready, then,” he said.

The Servant nodded. Then Loki closed the door and walked over to the bed as you sat on it. He set the platter on top of the covers. With the roasting chicken smelling fresh, as well as noticing butter on the vegetables and bread, you found yourself salivating.

As you tucked in, you didn’t want to think of how now realms were in danger. How Odin knew Loki’s secret and how he would only have shared glory as a hero. That you had to recover to have your powers returned.

You wanted to enjoy what pleasures you had in your life while you still had them before they could be taken away from you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The servants delivered a change of clothes. You put on a golden dress. Its silky material is soft as skin, making you run your hands on it to feel how it slides cleanly. Loki donned his traditional dark green and black leather. Looking in the mirror, you hardly recognized a face without petticoats.

“Do I look like an Asgardian?” you asked.

“You’re missing an eye patch like Father,” he teased.

An exhale of laughter shot from you and you smiled at him.

“Don’t fret- you are royalty now. They should be concerned about looking like you instead,” he assured you.

Loki offered his elbow and you placed an arm around his as you left the room to head to the meeting. Your footsteps echoed down columned hallways.

When you arrived, your husband knocked. Voices hushed from inside and a servant opened.

How different that little meeting looked with so many more faces inside.

There was the usual circle of the variants. Thomas talked to Jonathan as they looked over a book between them. Hal and Robert already seated. But now The royal family was added- Odin, Frigga, and Thor. Even Stella sat on a table with her sewing on her lap as Sif stood behind her, one hand on the hilt of the sheathed sword on her hip.

Odin cleared his throat.

“Now, then- let us commence,” The AllFather intoned.

He gestured and everyone standing sat into a chair. They creaked against the floor as people moved theirs. For a second, eyes looked uneasily on him. Beneath the table, your hand reached for Loki’s and he held it.

“It is no longer wise for your little club to face Grendel alone. Especially if he is a threat to our people and our realm, you will need our army, our warriors,” Odin began.

You hated that you agreed with every word he said.

“But the true reason I have called this is because it appears that one of you has made a crucial discovery…” Odin continued. A glimmer in his eye.

He swept an arm to Thomas, then curled his fingers to signal him to stand.

The Baronet smiled. He brought the book out from his lap and placed it on the table.

“My good friends, I have been doing a great deal of research for some time. I wish to assure you, that although my skills in a battle are not quite as refined as others, I wish to be useful in other matters.”

Thomas opened the book and turned the yellowed pages as he continued to speak.

“It took hours of sourcing every book in the archives for information on Grendel. His history, especially any possible weaknesses. Most of them needed to be translated from the ancient tongue word by word. But just this morning, I discovered this.”

He pointed at one specific page.

Everyone craned their neck to look. There was ancient Asgardian text in faded black ink, the lines curving and leaning to the left. You noticed small, detailed illustrations around it of a sword, a crown, a ring, and a mask.

Thomas looked at Jonathan. The Night Manager pulled out a scrap of paper from his pocket and handed it to Thomas, who read the translation aloud.

“Lo, to great praise of the gods,

Did Wise Grendel, go forth,

Long days did he spend,

WENT he forth across many,

Until the cauldron was found.

His death he shreds into it,

And forth did it birth its trove four.

The black ring, a bloodied sword,

An unkinged crown, and a mask of death.

For dreaded death did he ween away,

And death shadow dark did he peel off,

Placing them forth and upon,

Like weeds upon a ship,

The troves, which he then scatter.

Woe for the man,

Who in hell and hatred keeps his soul?

For the trove for that great foe.

THUS was Grendel reared immortal,

Reborn, that is, made freshly new.”

Silence followed. Then Thomas continued.

“In layman’s terms, there are four items called Troves that emerged out of the cauldron when Grendel was granted his immortality from it. A ring, a sword, a mask, and a crown. I confess I had to visit Jotunheim for our Prophet friend again and make him an offering. And it is rather convenient he is fond of a good roast chicken!”

The Prophet- how had it been so long since you had seen him? Since he told you Loki was your True Love? You glanced at your husband and smiled at him and he back. Then you turned to Thomas again.

“He confirmed what I suspected. He said the troves were scattered throughout time and in two countries in Midgard, mostly England. Oddest of all…They are located in our timelines.”

Thomas gestured to himself and then to each variant.

America in mine, A small village in Jonathans, Eastcheap in Hal’s, and, Robert….well, you can guess where the one in yours had been placed.”

Robert turned pale.

Loki placed an elbow on the table and cocked an eyebrow.

“How incredibly thoughtful of him to make it easy on us! It’s so coincidental, we may as well have our names written in that book!”

Jonathan folded his arms.

“If he had access to a prophet of his own, it could be another trap for us,” he said.

“But what options do we have?” Robert asked.

“If it’s a trap, I’ll take Grendel and slaughter him myself!” Thor boasted, pumping his fist in the air.

“It’s easier said than done,” Frigga advised him, placing a hand on his arm to get him to stop.

“So, we must go to each of these places in those times. We must retrieve and destroy these items. And then, we have a key to defeating Grendel,” you recalled.

Thomas nodded his head.

“Is there a city where the ring was found in? You didn’t list one,” Jonathan asked.

“Oh, forgive me, I’m not familiar with the city the ring is in,” Thomas explained.

“What is its name?” Frigga asked.

“It’s a city called Buffalo in the year of 1901. The Prophet said it could be found among the upper class of the city. So I believe that is where we must go- and we all must behave. We all know royalty is one thing, high society is another.” Thomas advised.

Frigga nodded her head.

“If it is the least familiar, then finding the troves in the others shall be easier. You must go there first. And we must find a way to alert the army should there be trouble,” she advised.

“Why, good fellows, let us use that little bracelet! Should it not work when the army of our King can be brought forth? Especially through the gifts of our gracious queen?” Hal asked.

Frigga smiled.

“Yes, if those watches can send the signal, I can summon a portal for the army to go through. We can’t just send all of them over there. Grendel would get suspicious,” she added.

Stella leaned forward, her needlework placed on her lap. She then spoke for the first time since the meeting began.

“I think I’d like to go,” she replied shyly.

“It could be dangerous,” Sif warned.

“Ah, but American Society is dangerous in itself. And not all of you know how to behave among them. Miss Harris, I agree- you would be a natural among them,” Thomas said.

Stella gave Thomas a small smile. Jonathan turned stiff seeing the exchange, a quiet ferocity in his eyes toward the Baronet.

“Stella knows her way around people. How to talk to them and befriend them. She couldn’t be impolite if you begged her to be. And Aldwinter loved her for that,” you recalled.

“I could help in some ways. Search for it, talk to others to distract them, have them trust us,” Stella suggested.

All of you looked at each other. Thor was drumming his fingernails on the table.’’

“But if there should be a battle!” the god cried.

“Not all battles are with swords, brother,” Loki replied.

“Of course that would help. Sif can guard her. We could use Stella. Any bit of help we can get.” Robert advised. His hands reached to his shirt pocket for a cigarette and finding none, rested on the table.

“And…I would like another thing, please…” Stella continued.

The eyes were on her. Your friend then relaxed, though eyes were on her. Her voice was brighter with her growing confidence.

“I….I’m tired of always being taken, being hurt. I don’t want it to happen anymore. Could I…could I learn to fight just a little, please? Just enough to protect myself. I don’t wish for any glory on the battlefield, I don’t want to hurt anyone, I just…I want to feel safe. Please,” she requested.

Loki smiled.

“Well then, you are quite welcome,” Loki began.

Sif turned to her.

“I’ll show you. I know how a woman can fight off a man. You’ll have lessons before you go- where to strike where it hurts. And you better pay attention,” she offered.

“She is worth every sore muscle!” you assured your friend.

Stella’s pink lips curved into a smile.

“Thank you, all of you,” she said.

Odin crossed his arms.

“Well, one sorceress in Asgard and another-” his eye went to you. “Sent off to Midgard. With the Princess’s gifts and your proper training, I have a little hope in me.”

You raised your hand to speak.

“Your highness-AllFather-I, I was tricked into eating Kunniger. The poison drained me of my gifts. I’ll need the tea from the Brunhilde flowers in Jotunheim. And enough to drink for at least two days,” you insisted.

Thor perked up.

“Oh! Brunhilde flowers then? Why, sister, then we must fetch them for you! And you shall be back to your magical glory in no time! Why, I should get them myself!” he replied eagerly, beating his fist on the table. It seemed that the table and everyone jumped in response.

Odin nodded his head.

“Then, it is settled. We will have two days- during which I expect everyone who is able to train vigorously. Then, you set forth in Midgard starting with the kingdom known as Buffalo. You all know what you must do- find the troves. Destroy them. Consider this a command from your king.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

While unleashing Thor among the upper crust of New York was like unleashing a bull into a china shop, he was useful in other ways.

Thor ran to Jotunheim like a dog released in a field. He grabbed as many Brunhilde flowers as he could and ran back, the tiny purple blooms bunched in his large fist. He brought you forth his prize at your feet.

For two days, you drank the tea as you watched Sif train Stella. And how odd that this time you were the one watching and Stella was the one training! And Stella in a light brown exercise dress of your time.Different than her typical blue. dodging Sif’s punches was a sight to see.

Sif led Stella to one dummy and handed her a dagger. She pointed at its neck.

“Strike there and he’ll be weakened.”

She moved her finger to the heart.

“Strike there and he’ll be dead.”

Stella gripped the handle of the dagger with both hands.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone,” she responded.

“Lady Harris, there are men worth killing. Men who will kill you first. Men who’ll do worse if alive- stab it!” she ordered.

Stella hurried forth and shakily plunged the dagger through the neck. Like pricking a needle into a sewing cushion.

“No! With force, girl!” Sif barked.

On the second afternoon, you could summon bits of flame. By that evening, you could hear the gossip of the kitchen maids (which Loki adored hearing you recount for entertainment). On the third day, you could move the items on your vanity around easily. You went to the training grounds and fetched a sword a mile away without moving a muscle. Targets of your own were set aflame easily.

Now it was time, and you could no longer delay. One minute wasted was one more advance Grendel would make behind your backs.

Everyone gathered in the meeting hall. Loki conjured clothes for everyone, for the ring was in Buffalo in the year 1901. The men had their waistcoats and cravats. Loki in his typical look. A black waistcoat with a green tie, with a black overcoat, a golden watch with its chain around his stomach, and a bowler hat. Thomas donned himself in black. He brought his top hat and placed it on his head. The men all had waistcoats in colors they favored. grey for Robert, a dark blue for Jonathan, and red for Hal.

The ladies had to have small gloves and dresses as well. Stella’s was sky blue and Sif was in black (though she complained the skirts were tight beneath her breath). Your dress was deep green along with your husband’s waistcoat.

But what amazed you were the puffed sleeves on the dresses. So within two decades, every lady would have them?! How astounding! You kept eyeing them on your shoulders with curiosity- you may as well attach hydrangea bushes to your person!

“Now, ladies and gentlemen, are we all ready? Not quaking in our little boots?” Loki asked.

There was no time to reply. Not that there was time for hesitation.

Loki conjured a golden portal and everyone stepped through. Bright colors swirled around you, hurting your eyes so much you had to close them.

Then, as you opened, you saw you were in Buffalo.

You were amidst the markets of the area, as carts moved about. You craned your neck to see tall white buildings. But the day was sunny with the crisp coolness of morning in the air. You could hear a distant train whistle and the chatter of people, happy for a new day and a fresh start. The city was twenty times larger than your village. The crowds were so thick, that you reached for your husband’s hand to not get lost. He held your own back. And indeed, everyone was dressed similarly to your group, right down to women with puffy sleeves.

All of you walked forward. Sticking close together as people hurried about. You stopped around one building, your feet staying on dry dirt roads far from any possible mud.

“Well, now, I have one little question. The one plaguing all of our minds right now. I may as well be the one to say it- how are we going to find one measly little ring in all of this?” asked Loki, gesturing his arms out to the city.

Jonathan put a hand out to him.

“Be patient,” he assured. “We’ll find a way.”

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow.

“Are all of you forgetting that I can sense things?” you replied. “Let me do a quick scan,” you offered.

The group held their breath. You closed your eyes and had your gifts reach out.

At first, it was overwhelming. Every smell, sound, and sight attacked you at once. Your shoulders tensed and you winced, but you had that word in your head like a mantra.

“Ring, ring- the cauldron’s ring…where is the cauldron’s ring?”

Taking a deep breath, you let each sensation pass you by. You let the words be your anchor.

Something nudged at you. As soft as a child asking for a glass of water at night.

The ring…there was someone…someone connected to the ring…it was…was…in a building, a few blocks away.

You opened your eyes, a smile growing on your face.

“Someone has it. They’re in an office building a few streets down,” you reported.

Loki took your hand, leaning to you with a look of triumph.

“My wife, a sorceress and ingenious,” he praised.

All of you hurried forth. You held your skirts over possible mud puddles, glad they’d cover your shoes. Your senses still out like a compass. Finally, a tall, bland-looking building loomed over your party and your senses quivered intensely within you.

“There! It’s there!” you confirmed with a point of your gloved hand.

Hurrying Inside, all of you paused. There were numerous rooms and a grand, wooden staircase. People walked to and fro in and out of doors. Ladies adjusted their hats in mirrors and you could smell cigar smoke.

“I can tell there is a hint here. There’s someone… but it’s…it’s hard to say….” you recalled. You were fresh from the poison, and maybe your senses were slightly dulled. You tried to reach out and could sense a presence, but you couldn’t tell what.

“Then rest your gifts, my dear,” Loki advised.

With a deep exhale, you released it, coming back to your neutral self.

“It will do. We have to start somewhere- we can search the building. Ask people, if desperate. Check for a ring.” Jonathan agreed.

Everyone had a scrap of paper in their pockets. An Asgardian artists made sketches from the illustration of this ring. A silver band with a black jewel in the center. You noticed Robert get it out to see it one more time before folding it back in.

“May as well start somewhere, sally forth, my friends,” Hal began, nodding his head.

“I’ll be back to you in an hour,” Loki said. He took your hand and kissed it as a promise.

The men began to scatter like children playing hide and seek. You saw Robert crudely looking at everyone’s hands and comparing the paper. They went across and vanished into doors all over the ground floor of the building.

You, Stella, and Sif looked at each other.

“Well, there they go,” Sif quipped.

“But who are we to sit about as they do the work? We can check the next floor up,” you asked.

The three of you lifted your skirts and walked upstairs.

As you climbed the steps, voices were chatting on the second floor. Emerging onto it, you all saw the source right in your path.

There was a small group of women with high chins and flowers in their hats. Society ladies. Their smiles were small and their eyes cold as they looked at one woman standing in front of them. As if not included. Not enough. Not one enough.

Their victim in question had blonde hair and a little tan coat and dress and hat. You noticed she had a manuscript in her hand that she hugged with both arms close to her chest like a shield.

One woman in front, who appeared to be the oldest among them, tilted her head and spoke with syrupy venom.

“Oh, we’re having a ball soon, by the way. Not that it should concern you, Edith. With those ink-stained hands, I doubt any gentleman would wish to dance with you. But isn’t that what you wanted, our own Jane Austen?” she said with a smile.

The ladies next to her snickered among themselves.

The young woman- Edith- turned pale and you found her posture tight.

Perhaps it was your unbridled emotions. Perhaps it was the confidence you gained from being turned from lady to warrior and princess and surviving Grendel. Perhaps it was the rage leftover from that marshy town where you made fire burst.

But you could not let them torment this lady- who seemed so small, so timid, so alone.

She wouldn’t be alone now.

Your feet approached them, crashing into their circle.

“And what makes you think you have the right to speak to her like that?” you asked.

Stella hurried forth and went to Edith.

“Why, is it true? Are you a writer?” she asked.

Edith blinked in surprise.

“Why, uh, yes, I am,” she replied meekly.

Stella made sure she was close. Diverting her attention, not causing any harm. The defense to your offense.

“Oh, how exciting! I must wonder at that- how hard you must work for your craft! How fascinating! I am Miss Stella Harris-forgive the intrusion- and you are-”

“Edith Cushing,” she confirmed.

You took a step closer to them.

“What are their names?” you asked Edith.

“Mrs. McMichael, her daughter Eunice, and their friends,” Edith introduced.

You looked down into the oldest woman’s eyes and she rose to yours without a hint of fear.

“Mrs. McMichael, I do not know what Miss Cushing has done to you- to any of you to deserve this. She is harming no one. She has an ambition and is set forth on it- that is a noble thing. And it is none of your business if she becomes a spinster! Haven’t you considered how hurt she must be when you say things to her?” you spat back.

Mrs. McMichael cocked her eyebrow.

“I must be blunt. Edith is unnatural, as one might say. She must know her place. She always has been. With a mind like hers, of course, no one will want her. We knew it from the beginning. We are simply educating her. She must know her place- how else can a pig know she is a pig?”

You had had enough.

“And going about bullying other people to make your own miserable life feel any better is a place you’re satisfied to be in?” you asked.

You got close, holding yourself restrained. Your hands itching to slap her, which you kept folded. But you looked directly into her eyes and spoke before you could be interrupted.

“Then I must be blunt, too- You wish to find a pig, Mrs. McMichael? Look in the mirror,” you replied.

There were gasps among the ladies. Even a “mother!” whispered from Eunice.

Before any of them could interject, you turned to join Stella and Edith and began to walk away. Sif only took a step closer.

“Don’t push it. And stay away from the girl- and us,” She warned gravely.

There were gasps. You turned around, hurrying your steps. Your momentum of triumph and anger pushing your little party of four forward. Edith only looked around with as much astonishment as the abandoned snobs. Three new faces looking at her. A lightness on her features for her surprise defense.

“Where are you going?” Sif asked.

“I am headed to the library- it’s up here. I’m meeting Mr. Ogilvie in an hour,” she pointed.

“Let us escort you,” you offered.

Edith grinned and you noticed how warm it was, how beautiful. With her blonde hair and sweet features, she was a pretty lady. Her shoulders dipped and her eyes glanced down at the manuscript in her hands as if it was her infant. She looked back up, beaming.

“I cannot thank all of you enough! Please- what is your name?”

Matching her grin, you reached out a hand in an introduction.

“I am Mrs. Laufeyson,” you introduced. It was the last name you and Loki agreed to have when traveling in Midgard.

“Miss Edith Cushing, and?” she turned to look at the dark-haired woman in dark clothes.

“Lady Sif-”

“Er, Miss Sif,” you corrected.

“What brings you here?” Edith asked.

“Buisness with my husband. Miss Harris and Miss Sif are my companions. Why do you need to meet this gentleman in the library?” you asked.

As you walked closer, you passed a window where sunlight draped down. Warming all of you for a brief minute. Glancing back, you saw the clique of society ladies titled their heads to watch and then went down the stairs with a huff.

‘He’s going to look at my manuscript and consider publishing it!” Edith boasted.

“Oh, how exciting!” Stella replied.

“! You must have us read it too!” you agreed. Even Sif raised an eyebrow.

Edith guided you all to the door with the library.

“Oh- after the meeting, we’ll enjoy some coffee- my treat! Really! It’s the least I can do- and there’s a cafe next door!” she offered.

Coffee, not tea. Now you knew you truly were in America.

“Splendid- we will wait outside right for you,” Stella promised.

“My husband wishes to meet me in an hour. Do you not mind him?”

“Oh, not at all. I’d like to get in early- there are a few revisions I need to make before he reads it,” Edith said, looking down at the manuscript again.

“There’s no need for shame. Do whatever you need to do!” Stella replied with a smile.

Sif did not smile. Though she was quiet, observant of everything gonig on, but her eyes were soft.

“We’ll wait right here!” you assured.

Edith gave you another smile.

Something in the back of your mind was itching. A bell was ringing loud. You had rested your senses but here they suddenly grabbed you by full force. You stood still, your heart picking up against your ribs as you felt them overwhelm you.

But they didn’t go to the chatter or footsteps or the sunlight shining through.

You felt Edith….her hair feeling pinned to her face, her sweat of excitement beneath her nice dress, her determination to not appear like a frump yet also present of an intellect worthy of respect, equal to a man even…

She didn’t wear gloves. Her fingers were bare, but there was the mark of a tight ring she wore yesterday around her second finger on her right.

She was trying on jewelry that morning. And considered one ring she had. She had put it on. Then decided against it and discarded it away.

A silver ring. A silver ring with a black jewel.

Before you said a word, she slipped through the door and closed it shut. All of you sat on some chairs outside the hall. Your stomach had dropped and you were shaking.

Sif crossed her arms in a huff.

“I don’t see how any of this will get us any closer to the trove!” she complained.

You turned to her, feeling your blood turn cold.

“No, Sif…” you began.

“Why, YN! What’s the matter? There’s a look on your face- something is troubling you, what is it?” Stella asked.

You gestured for them to lean closer, your voice soft.

‘We haven’t actually dallied…we might as well have found the ring…” you replied.

“What do you mean?” asked Sif.

“Edith has it.”

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