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muddyorbsblr · 9 months

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feels like mine pt1

See my full list of works here!

Summary: You wake up in a bed that isn't your own, living a life that seems to be pulled straight out of your wildest dreams

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: 18+ | mentions of death; slight gaslighting (?) [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: everything is not what it seems; twist at the end

Your eyes squinted to adjust to the brightness of your bedroom awash with the morning sun. Looks like Mother Nature chose to be a little too chipper this morning and tried to blind you with its rays shining straight into your room.

You rose from your bed, your hands flopping on to the ultra soft comforter that sunk beneath the pressure.

Weird, you thought to yourself. I don't remember checking in to a hotel, and God knows my bed isn't this soft. You slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and alarm bells immediately ringing loud in your head when you looked down at the pristine white sheets.

"This isn't my bed," you said aloud, hopping down from the mattress and assessing your body, ensuring that you were free to move and your limbs weren't tied down in some capacity keeping you captive in what would have been a bizarrely cozy looking prison. You assessed your clothes next; mainly to see if you were even wearing any, your brows shooting to your hairline when your hands touched a lush satiny fabric covering your curves. "These aren't my clothes."

You rushed over to a mirror situated on a door that you assumed was a closet, your confusion growing by the second when you saw that the reflection looking back at you was…yourself. Exactly as you were last night before you went to bed, only clad in a navy blue nightie that looked like it cost over a week's pay. And wearing a ring that probably cost your soul.

The items on the nightstand by the side of the bed you'd woken up on raised even more questions. A black leather-bound journal with a gold 'H' pressed on the spine, a fountain pen, a laptop, a tablet, and a Kindle Oasis. An almost exact match to the items on the nightstand that you knew by heart, but each item was a more luxurious variant. For one, you wouldn't in your right mind ever buy yourself a Kindle Oasis. Or an S.T. Duponte fountain pen.

On the opposite nightstand were a stack of papers bound together with brass fasteners and a pair of reading glasses with a grade that moderately blurred your vision when you held it close to your eyes. You decided against looking at the contents of the book-bound papers in case there was anything confidential you weren't meant to glimpse in its contents.

You checked on the door next, seeing if it was locked from the outside. It wasn't.

You stepped out of the bedroom, assessing your surroundings to find any semblance of information that would tell you where you were and why you were here, only to grumble out of sheer frustration, "This isn't my apartment." To start with, apartments didn't have stairs. And your place didn't have nearly this much windows.

"Did I…shift?" Your voice softly echoed off the walls, staring in disbelief at the framed picture before you. Your hair and makeup impeccably done, a flower tiara delicately put in place at the top of your head, clad in a downright whimsical wedding dress and smiling brilliantly at the groom whose back was turned to the camera, your only hint at who he was being broad shoulders and brown slightly curly hair.

The unmistakable sound of vegetables being cut led you down the stairs and into the kitchen, desperately hoping it would lead you to who your mystery husband was and maybe start making some sense of this downright crazy predicament.

But catching a glimpse of the well over 6-foot lean frame dressed a white button-down shirt tucked into black dress pants that put a way too familiar butt on proud display had you itching to wake up because this was most definitely a concerningly vivid dream.

That is definitely not my husband.

No way on God's green Earth were you married to Tom Hiddleston. This just went from bizarre to downright impossible.

"Good morning, sweetheart," he greeted you in that low timbre that had your knees buckling, setting aside his task at hand and removing his apron before walking over to you.

"Hi…" you answered him, voice wavering. Before you could speak another word, he framed your face in his hands, thumbs softly running across your cheekbones, and then pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. "What're you--"

"We finished filming early," he answered, words murmured against your lips. "I caught an earlier flight so I could see you sooner. Oh I've missed you so much." He pressed his lips to yours again. "My darling wife."

Okay, I definitely shifted. This body you may have woken up in had your face, and probably your maiden name…but this wasn't your life. You were occupying space meant for someone else. Another Y/N.

"Tom, I think I have to--"

"Whatever it is can wait." He kissed you again, this time he pressed against you a little harder, your heart beating wildly in your chest when you felt a light, tentative lick to your bottom lip. "Just let me hold you a little while longer." He wrapped his arm around the small of your back, cradling your head with his other hand as he buried his face into the crook of your neck, sighing in contentment.

You knew you were seconds away from abandoning all your plans to try and get him to listen when he started pressing numerous open-mouthed kisses along your neck, your whole body growing weak when he started nipping and licking at the skin. "Please it's important. I don't think I'm supposed to be--"

The feel of him groaning into your skin made your knees give out, making him hold you tighter against him. He walked you backwards until your back pressed against the wall, your breathing labored as he kissed along the expanse of skin exposed to him by your negligee.

When his kisses started traveling south and he pressed his lips to the swell of your breast, you knew you had to get your words out before you gave in and let him have his way with you, however far that may be. "I'm not supposed to be here," you blurted out, pressing your palms to his shoulders and inwardly cursing at yourself for making him stop. "I know that I might sound like I'm not making any sense but…I think I shifted realities…? It's bizarre to me because I never actually succeeded until now but the point is--"

"Sweetheart, slow down." He began to rub his hands up and down your arms, calming you down some within seconds and once again making you question this reality. And how he knew what to do when you began to ramble and spiral in your own thoughts. "You say you're not supposed to be here. Where do you think you should be? Tell me what you know and perhaps I can help from there."

"My name is Y/N Y/L/N, and I'm a software engineer in the middle of a career shift. Last night I went to sleep in a one bedroom apartment in Anaheim. I was no one to you. At most a faceless name that sings your praises online. Definitely not…" You waved your hand in a sweeping gesture across your surroundings. "This," you finished, your breath hitching in the back of your throat when you caught sight of his expression, eyes shining with tears that were seconds away from falling down his cheeks.

"What a bleak life," he breathed out, pressing his lips to your forehead as he pulled you into an embrace. "I can't imagine having to live in a world where I didn't know you. Didn't love you." He kissed your temple. "Thank God it was just a dream."

"A dr--A dream?" you sputtered, confusion overcoming your thoughts. Surely it wasn't that simple. That easily explained. You could remember in vivid detail the code you worked on last night, the bumpy bus ride on the way back to your apartment. The last story you read written by your friends online before you finally laid your head on your pillow and succumbed to an exhausted slumber.

Something about Tom's character on The Hollow Crown and barn sex before he was to face off against the Dauphin of France.

"Yes, my love. Nothing but an awful vivid dream," he reassured you, soothing you with the low velvety tone of his voice, partnered with the kisses he was softly peppering all over your face before stopping at the corner of your mouth. "Your name is Y/N Hiddleston. We've been together for five years, and you gave me the unique honor of becoming your husband less than a year ago. You were a software engineer amidst a career change when I met you all those years ago, and you've come so far since then. You have amazed me at every turn, and it's been a privilege to witness all that you've done. And all that you will continue to do." He captured your lips in a tender kiss, making you melt into his arms as you crossed your hands behind his neck, allowing him to pull you closer. "You just need a few minutes to readjust after waking up. Everything will come back to you soon enough. And any details that don't return to you I'll happily fill those blanks in."

It was almost like the protests that remained in your mind got muffled at his assurances. He spoke about you with such conviction and fondness and love that it made it sound beyond reproach. All that remained was the faintest murmur of doubt that you quickly recognized as those few hours of disbelief you would go through after waking up from a particularly vivid dream, much like those ones you had back in college where you mourned the loss of your best friend and you internally panicked for hours until he walked into the classroom looking every bit as alive as he had the day before.

"Just a dream…" You tested the words on your tongue, the explanation steadily becoming more and more palatable than your initial theory of successfully shifting. Your eyes met Tom's again. "Sorry I…kinda freaked out back there--"

He pressed a delicate kiss to your lips to stop you. "There's no need for apologies, sweetheart. You were disoriented, and I'm grateful you confided in me that you were instead of holding it all in." He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, the gesture bringing a smile to your face and causing a small giggle to escape your lips. "How about you head back upstairs and get ready for the day, and I'll finish whipping up breakfast?"

"That…sounds like a good idea," you agreed, unable to keep the smile off your face even as he kissed you again. "I'll go take a shower and then…I'll be back down here in twenty minutes?"

Tom loosened his hold on you, hands smoothing down your sides before he took a step back so you could make your way up the stairs. Before you passed him, he took your hand in his to call your attention again, bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss to each of your knuckles. "I love you," he whispered against your skin.

"I love you, too," you said back, biting your lip as you gave him a smile before heading back up the stairs, your doubts calmed and your panic from earlier subsiding, allowing you to simply look around the house and appreciate the beauty and joy that your life granted you in stark contrast to last night's dream.

Just as you stepped on to the top landing of the stairs, a flash of green glinted at the corner of Tom's eye, diverting his attention to the visitor in the kitchen.

"She is a perceptive one, your mortal," Loki mused, staring down at the ingredients on the cutting board. "A part of her recognizes that she is no longer within her universe. That part could linger…fester, even. Are you truly certain you wish to continue down this path? To risk her finding out the truth and resenting you from stealing her away from her life--"

"What's the alternative, then?" Tom snapped, gripping the countertop so hard his knuckles were going white, hot tears finally falling from his eyes. "Go on the rest of my days without my wife? Let her go back to a world where she said it herself, she's no one to me?"

Loki let out a sigh, taking a few steps towards the door to the patio, the tension and frustration evident in his stance. "She did not deserve the life she was designed for, on that I do agree. But it will take time for her to fully acclimate to this new universe, if you truly wish to keep her here. And you must accept that no matter what you do, she may never fully fill the space that your late wife left behind."

Tom's eyes burned with more tears, indignation and grief making his heart ache even worse at the memory of you -- that is, the you that he lost not even three days ago. "I know that," he said through gritted teeth. "What of the people who heard news of her passing? The people on set who saw me when I got the call? They're going to ask her questions when they see her alive and well. Questions she won't be able to answer."

The god simply waved a hand dismissively. "Simple memory spell. Their recollection of events will simply be altered wherein they recall you receiving a call and you needed to leave and halt production to ensure her safety, not see to her funeral. Her record at the hospital has been expunged. Any and all evidence that suggests that the Y/N Hiddleston of his universe is no longer with us has ceased to exist."

"Thank you," he choked out, walking up to the god and extending a hand.

"Of course. You deserved not the life you'd planned with your wife taken so violently." Loki took your husband's hand in a firm shake. "Now, I know it may not be my place to tell you what you should be doing at this moment. But from where I stand, you have just been reunited with your wife. If you're open to suggestions, I would recommend putting the apron down, going upstairs, and simply enjoying the life that has been returned to you. Breakfast can wait."

With those words, Loki disappeared in a flash of green right as Tom turned around and headed up the stairs in your direction, heeding the god's advice.

A/N: Something tells me that when I told y'all there's a Centrum Ad Hiddles story coming your way, y'all probably didn't expect this…and to be honest I didn't think I was even gonna make a Centrum Ad Hiddles story, let alone one that took this direction. 😳👀 I hope you like it though, slightly dark twist and all 😅💖

‘everything’ taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989

Hiddles taglist: @spooky1980

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

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smolvenger · 1 month

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In A World of Boys, He's a Gentleman (Professor! Tom Hiddleston x Reader blurb)

Summary: Collapsing into tears after a hellish week, your professor boyfriend confesses he loves you.

Warnings: cursing, some work problems (I may have used some of my irl experiences in here, oops) Reader liking Romantasy books, but other than that, some hurt/comfort and lots of fluff!

A/N: I decided to leave it ambiguous if Reader is a student or not, so that is personally up to you. From @holdmytesseract's request for the birthday blurbs! Thanks for your patience!

Word Count: >2K

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

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

If the past week was purgatory, then today was utter hell.

Everything in your life was driving you so busy, you felt both stasis and panic at once. You got so distracted that you would zone out on your phone closing and reopening the same apps for hours. Then at work, people were driving you up a wall. Because you were a good employee who had to get things done in the order and way they trained you or else…less got done. The impossibility of productivity crept on you. Minutes became hours. You had to argue with someone in a conversation that should have been four minutes but lasted eight because she would not shut up, kept repeating the same things over and over, would rarely let you speak and when you did, never replied or added onto your responses. On top of that, your body decided that the buttcrack dawn of morning when it was still dark was a good time to be awake. And impossible to drift back to sleep even when you took cold medicine. Which then made you exhausted at work.

Thank god for your professor boyfriend.

He was your light in the midst of all this. You had dated for some time, and even the sight of him putting on glasses in a nice suit as he headed off ofr work still made you tingly inside. He would leave you little gifts at your place- flower bouquets, cupcakes, and the like. You were at a point where you didn’t have to have romantic dates all the time. You were now just in his place. Just hanging out. Simple as that.

You could be quiet and not interact every second. As cats parallel played you could just be in comfortable silence together. Especially when it came reading- for you had something of a silent book club. You both turned off your phones and would sit devouring book after book.

He was a Literature professor, so it was in his nature. It seemed though sometimes he was never off the clock! He even challenged you- it was one thing that drew you to daring him. He was smart enough- he respected you as an intelligent being in your own right but was able to have questions and discussions. It was the academia in him. It made you grow into wanting to be a better person for him…and he for you.

Though today, your stress, anxiety, and semi insomnia was creeping up on you. You sat on the brown chair and he on his sofa. There was the same book in your hands. He was already rubbing a finger over his lips, pressing his glasses close. Enchanted by the spell words made. It was a well-reviewed piece of literature that won awards and was featured on the official lists of esteemed journals. He recommended this title to you and you were both reading it.

As you sat with your own copy that he leant you, you cracked open the stiff spine from it’s newness and began to read…

You were spacing out on the first chapter. It was dense, poetic, and beautiful….but you had no idea what the heck was going on.

After a few more pages, it was starting to get sad.

What was it with these books? And it was not cheery- Was high literature just sad things happening like people having affairs on their wives or committing abuse or doing drugs or going to war or just being awful with no repercussions?

With a sigh, you reached into your bag and pulled out a different book- an escapist, spicy romantasy that all the girls on social media were losing their minds over. You replaced the high literature book, setting it down quietly, and opened it. Tom was so engrossed in the book he didn’t notice. You didn’t want him to notice.

You found this time you were understanding the words in front of you. And you found yourself drawn. Was it the best piece of literature to be studied in a professors class in the future? Hell no. But you were here for a good time, not a long time. And not to study human nature deeply, but to be in a different world, where you had a different name, a different look, and different problems, but far more magical and exciting than everything crashing down in your dull, grey reality. One where your clothes were beautiful with corsets and fine fabric instead of just jeans. One where you would have a sword with a name then a smartphone that sucked all of your free time. One where you could be a princess, a queen, an assassin, a fae lady, a vampire, a pirate, a goddess, a duchess… anything other than plain old you in a plain old life at a plain old job.

Tom looked up. He then eyed over your cover and back at you.

You looked up at him and grimaced. Then you shoved the book back into your bag.

“Please! Don’t judge me!” you cried.

“Why would I judge you?” he asked.

You gestured over to the book in his hands.

“I’m reading this silly trash book and you have all of your fine literature!” you cried.

He set his own copy down, but his blue eyes softened.

“My dear…Is something up?” he asked.

He knew you well enough he could tell the signs.

“Yes, my day was hell! It was this and this and this and…I try to handle it but..I’m overwhelmed so I can’t…I really can’t…I’m not even smart enough to read this book, because I try and try but I just can’t understand this stuff and I can’t get into it, like you…I’m an idiot…”

You burst into tears, and he came over, hugging and kissing your head in little pecks.

“No…darling, no…” he murmured.

You leaned into his arms. You found yourself vneting and complaining the suffering long inside you.

“I know…I’m a mess…” you sobbed out. “And there was a lady at work who’s a bitch, and my job is so hard, and I can’t sleep at night…it’s just…I wish I could be smarter, nicer, better for you Tom, but…”

“How do you take tea?” he asked.

Looking up, you wiped your tears with your sleeve and answered him.

He made it for you the way you liked. It was the prettiest mug- white with bluebell flowers painted on it. And returned with it. You sipped at it, it was perfect in it’s flavor and so warm, you felt it melt inside you. You placed both hands around it- science said it was like receiving a hug. Feeling the warmth inside and outside as you looked up at him.

He scooted himself to be close, a gentle smile on his face and one of his large, beautiful hands rubbing your forearm in comfort.

“I know I’m a mess.” you said.

“I like you as a mess.”

You began to blink at him.

“No, I…but I’m…I’m trying, but I just…I know I complain and I read trashy books and I call people bitches and all that, you can say it, Tom. It’s the truth,” you replied.

“Set your drink down,” he requested.

You complied.

He cupped your face. A gasp aired itself in your throat.

“My dear, you are perfect as you are. A mess, broken, crying…and I want nothing else than to be with you.” he confessed.

You nearly dropped your jaw.

“That’s…a…you’re saying that…”

“Well…I…yes, I never thought I’d run into someone like you, who’d change everything. Why should I care if you feel upset sometimes like every human being or what you read to make you happy or that things aren’t always wonderful…I…I love you….there, I said it.”

Love. The little word that changed everything. And it was the first time he said it. It was…unspoken. Something you both felt for the long months you dated, but never confirmed. And here it was, materialized and as present as the furniture and mugs and books, for it was just as real.

“I love you too, Tom.”

You embraced him tight, and he embraced back. He then pressed his forehead to yours, squeezing hands.

He then let go, looking down at your mug.

“Here…your tea will get cold…” he said, offering the drink back to you.

“And…my book….” you murmured.

“Oh, I have no problems with you reading it with me! If it’s that good, I’ll make you another cup of tea and get us some biscuits as well! Then you must tell me all about it!” He gave a little laugh. “Who knows, I may even try it myself someday!”

Smiling with him, you gave him a kiss on his cheek. Then, you settled into cuddling him, sipping your tea and enjoying both of your books in a moment of pure bliss.

#carrie writes #professor! tom hiddleston #prof! tom x reader #prof! tom hiddleson x reader #tom hiddleston #fanfiction #fluff #fanfiction fluff #professor fanfiction #prof! tom #prof! tom hiddles #professor! tom hiddleston x you #professor! tom hiddleston imagine #professor! tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x reader #prof! tom my beloved

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holdmytesseract · 1 year

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Under Your Spell

model!Tom Hiddleston x fem!Reader

Summary: You're a photographer and just landed a big job. You try to stay professional, but the model you are working with is quite the distraction...

Warnings: almost nudity, tattoos, piercings, thirst, fluff?

Word Count: 2,1k

a/n: Yep, you read that right... model!Tom... 😏 Well... @multifandom-worlds texted me a few weeks ago and gave me the inspiration for this oneshot. 😁 We regret nothing. 👀

Tagging: @lulubelle814 @km-ffluv @eleniblue @muddyorbs @loz-3 @vbecker10 @jennyggggrrr @mochie85 @chantsdemarins @peaches1958 @multifandom-worlds @fictive-sl0th @loki-laufeyson-1054 @lovingchoices14 @simping-for-marvel @stupidthoughtsinwriting @vanilla-daydreaming @lou12346789 @lady-rose-moon @evelyn-kingsley @the-princess-of-loki @acefeather2002

Masterlist

Part Two -> Still Under Your Spell (written by @multifandom-worlds )

(Credit for the picture goes to @multifandom-worlds 😁)

"Got a new job for you." Sam, your boss turned friend said, making her way over to you. You were currently in one of the studios, cleaning up after the photo shooting you just had. You were a professional photographer, working for a quite big agency. Turning to face Sam, she stood beside you now, grinning broadly. "And a real big one at that." "Sam, if that's another joke-" "This time it's not! I swear! This is real!" The blonde, curly haired woman giggled, lifting her hands in surrender. Sam tended to prank you from time to time, telling you that you've got a big job; hired from someone like Prada, Gucci or even Nike or Adidas. Well, it never was the case... Until today. You crossed your arms over your chest, looking at her expectedly. "You might want to sit down, 'cause it's going to blow your mind." "Sam, please, I don't have to sit down, just because-" "Calvin Klein, male model." "Ohhh gods. Okay, yep, yep, I-I need to sit down." Sam laughed, guiding you to sit on one of the stools. You wouldn't say it was one of your biggest dreams to do a photoshoot for Calvin Klein, but it was definitely in the top five. You needed a second to process this, taking a deep breath. "Sam... Really? Like... Really, really? The Calvin Klein?" Your boss giggled, nodding. "Yep, really really. The Calvin Klein." "Wow... This is... wow..." Sam smiled, knowing very well that this was a small dream coming true. "Congrats, sweetie. You deserve this." You returned her smile and couldn't help but to hug her. "When is the shooting? Where? And oh gods, who is the male model? Do I know him?" You had turned from a stunned girl into an excited energy ball within seconds. Sam laughed once more. "Friday next week. I don't know where yet. I'm still waiting for the management to tell me that. And the model... Well, I don't think you know him, 'cause he's pretty new in the business." "Well, who is it?" "Name's Tom. Tom Hiddleston."

Ten days later, you were pacing around the spacious, yet cosy looking room, preparing everything for the photoshoot. You had arrived over an hour earlier, checking on everything twice - just to be on the safe side. You wouldn't want anything to go wrong. Not on such an important shoot. After all, this could be the chance to prove yourself. The stepping stone into a big, successful career as a professional photographer.

You were readjusting the tripod, totally lost in thoughts, when a deep, yet smooth voice brought you back to the here and now. "Hello?" You spun around at the voice, a hairsbreadth away from knocking over the tripod with the camera. "Apologies. I didn't mean to scare you." The voice spoke up again. "It's okay, I-" You turned around without an incident this time, facing the man to whom the sensual voice belonged - and almost fainted right then and there. Before you stood a tall man with deep blue eyes and a charming smile on his face. His blonde-brown hair was short and curled itself in soft waves over his head. His facial features were utterly defined, with a razor-sharp jawline and high cheekbones. A tattoo adorned his neck. From underneath the white shirt he wore, peaked out another black tattoo as well. He was absolutely gorgeous.

You swallowed hard, tried to regain your focus. "S-Sorry, hi. I, uh, was so in thoughts and... You must be Tom, right?" His smile widened a bit, as he stepped closer. "Please don't worry. I should've knocked or something... And yes, I'm Tom." A smile like his could light up the whole world. You were sure of it. Tom stretched out his arm towards you. Your eyes fell to his outstretched hand. He has such big hands, you thought immediately, biting your lip, before you took his kind and polite offer, and watched how his hand swallowed yours whole. "Y/N." "Very nice to meet you, Y/N." You gave the man a smile, trying to cover up your nervousness. "Likewise, Tom." Your hand left his again, and to prevent an upcoming awkward silence, you spoke up again. "Shall we begin?" "I'd love to."

Sam joined you no minute later, informing you and Tom about the details of the shooting, before she went on her way again, leaving you and Tom to work. While the man went into the adjacent locker room in order to get changed - or well, rather half naked (After all, it was an underwear commercial photoshoot.), you checked your camera one last time.

You knew from the first look at Tom, that he was definitely born to be a model, with the breath-taking good looks he had been gifted. But what you saw when he emerged from the locker room, your heart seemed to stop beating for a moment. You had expected a lot... But not this. Not what your eyes witnessed in that very moment. Tom was naked, of course, except for the grey Calvin Klein trunks, which sat snugly around his hips... And crotch. You swallowed hard, tried not to focus on this, of course. Like you had already recognised before, he had tattoos - but not just the two you had seen. Oh no... Tom had a lot more. In fact, was almost his entire body covered with tattoos, starting with that tattoo on his neck. Although, his upper body was not entirely covered, but mostly. Flowers climbed all over his torso, starting at the waistband of the Calvin Klein trunks, up his hips and sides, kissing his left pec and spreading all over his shoulders and arms. It looked stunning and utterly beautiful. You understood to 100 per cent, why Tom became a model.

Tom's legs were covered with a few flowers as well. You could see a flower tendril on both legs, winding itself upwards from his ankles over his calves and knees, ending on his muscular, thick thighs. Speaking of muscles... Tom's body was well shaped. You could tell that already by the blue shirt he had been wearing. Biceps bulging underneath the soft fabric. His shoulders were broad and strong and you could definitely see the fade outlines of his abs, forming into a sixpack. That, combined with the smattering of fine hair in between his pecs and down his belly button was enough to almost got you hyperventilating. You had photographed a lot of people by now, but nobody had swept you off your feet like Tom did. Not just because he looked like a prince, straight out of a novel, written by a woman, no... Because he seemed to be such a nice, kind and charming man.

Though, the tattoos and his utter good looks weren't the only things which caught your attention... Although he looked like a sunny boy with all those flowers, he had something to balance out the 'bad boy image'... Piercings. Tom had a black, curved barbel piercing on his left eyebrow. His lower lip was pierced as well with a black labret piercing. You even caught a glimpse of his tongue piercing, when he licked his lips, which got you thinking about how good it would feel to kiss him with those piercings.

And you weren't just talking about the three on his face... Oh no... There was more. When your eyes wandered lower to his chest, you could see that Tom had both his nipples pierced; causing you to almost drool on your t-shirt. For fucks sake, Y/N! You internally screamed at yourself. Get a grip! This is work! Not a strip club! Stay professional! You swallowed hard, "Alright!" and took a deep breath, hoping that Tom didn't notice your wandering eyes and lusting stare. "Are you ready, Tom?" The handsome man rubbed his hands, smiling and nodding. "I am ready when you are." "Perfect. Let's start."

You had prepared something for the shooting, of course, trying to implement your customers wishes and perceptions. On the left in front of the big white screen stood a rather old, almost vintage chair and on the right a pallet, turned bed, with a soft mattress, some pillows and a white duvet. "Chair first?" Tom asked you, pointing towards the furniture. "If you'd like, sure." "Alright." He smiled, walking over to the chair. You repositioned your camera, thinking you'd start with the bed first, but well... In the end, it didn't matter.

"What do you want me to do? How should I position myself?" You instructed Tom to brace himself with one hand against the chair first, making him stand sexy, but chilled. After that, you told him to sit down, but the wrong way round, so that he sat with spread legs on the furniture, facing the back of the chair. He placed his arms casually on said back, bending his spine slightly. You had positioned the old chair to stand a bit skewed, so his trunks were clearly visible. After all, this was an underwear photoshoot. Well, you were glad that your direct gaze was shielded. Unless you probably would've been expired already. Cause of death: Sensory overload.

When you were done with the first item of the photoshoot, you told Tom to move to the bed, which sent a tingle down your spine. You couldn't deny, that photographing Tom in a bed got you quite a bit hot and bothered. This was a whole new level, causing you to lose concentration and focus slightly once again. You literally couldn't take your eyes off him - and luckily you didn't have to. You were supposed to look at him, weren't you? As the photographer?

"What would you like me to do in here?" Tom asked with a smile, referring to the bed, of course. Take off your trunks and then my clothes. Wait, what? You blinked, shaking your head slightly and hoping Tom didn't notice how you were struggling to keep a cool head. "U-Um... Feel free to try any position you like." He did notice. The man wasn't stupid - and you were bad at hiding your visible attraction. A soft smirk graced his lips; feeling utterly flattered. "Okay, whatever you say, boss." He firstly sat down at the edge of the makeshift bed, placing his elbows on his knees, getting into a kind of thinking position. You quickly snapped a few pictures, watching him change into another few positions. After taking another photo, you looked up at him and said something you regretted afterwards. "I like the way you pose, but I think we should do one more. Perhaps one in which the trunks are very good visibly? Kinda... on full display?" Whoops. You realised immediately how sexual this just sounded, causing you to stumble for an explanation. "I-I mean not that, uh, Calvin Klein complains, because their product isn't to be seen, y-you know? S-Sorry…" You added a small, awkward giggle, hoping your cheeks weren't that red. Tom smiled, shaking his head. "No, I understand. Don't worry. You are probably right." Like you said, you regretted saying this, because Tom took this very seriously...

He returned back to the bed and got on it. Placing himself towards the camera, he laid down on his side, propping his upper body up on his elbow, while he spread his legs, placing one foot on the mattress, so that his leg was bend. The trunks were on full display now. And you? You had to swallow very hard, fighting so hard against yourself to not look. Though, you could swear it looked at you first. Shit.

His thick thighs were perfectly outlined by the grey trunks, causing them to even look stronger. The waistband stretched around his torso deliciously, desperately holding on. "Is this position alright?" "U-Um, yes, sure." With shaky hands you took a few pictures, trying hard to stay professional. Why must he be so sexy, though?

The rest of the photo shooting was absolute torturous for you. Knowing that you were allowed to look, but not to touch. Oh and how you would've loved to touch... You were kind of glad when Tom was dressed again, but also very sad at the same time. "It was a great shooting, thank you. You are a very good, talented photographer." You couldn't help but blush at Tom's words. "Vice versa. You're a remarkable model." The man chuckled. "Well, thank you, Y/N. It was a pleasure working for and with you. Hopefully we get the chance to... work together again." He winked at you, causing your knees to almost give in. Gods, why was he like that? "Well, I-I hope so too."

#tom hiddleston one shot #tom hiddleston x y/n #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston oneshot #tom hiddleston fanfiction

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lokisgoodgirl · 1 year

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Sexual Apocalypse Society (SAS) FAQ

Thanks to @lovelysizzlingbluebird for jokingly suggesting an FAQ. However hopefully it will be useful in future 😁 #SAS Supremacy

What is the SAS?

The SAS stands for Sexual Apocalypse Society. What started as whispers of a mysterious cult became an unofficial band of thirsty Loki posters who just tagged each other in things that make your brain seize up for a second in pure desire and then explode all over the keyboard.

But really, what is it?

That's literally it. It’s a bunch of Loki writers/ readers/fans who enjoy thirsting at length about hot AF Loki Laufeyson and his mortal counterpart, Tom Hiddleston.

This can be in the form of Asks sent to ‘members’ with gifs/headcanons, reblog thirst trains, fic reblogs, old reblogs or pretty much anything. Nothing is safe.

There is an undercurrent of world domination in Loki's name prior to his return to the realm.

How do I join the SAS?

If you want in, you're in.

There is no tag-list. There is no exclusivity. The SAS is free for anyone to join in and voice your mighty appreciation for the god of sex mischief so don't be shy. Everyone's real nice.

As there are so many regulars, sometimes it’s hard to keep track especially when it’s a quickly put out post, so please don’t be offended if you’re not tagged by someone and you think you should be.

It’s all a bit of fun. Just join in If you want to.

What’s all the stuff about the Mangos?

Eons ago, @thedistractedagglomeration brought to our attention the phrase ‘Pantsmango’ to describe TH/Loki’s crotch. This has snowballed somewhat into a full on feral worship of the Mango, both in crotch and actual Mango form as a symbol of devotion to our cause.

Are there rules?

Sure.

Be nice to everyone and be respectful of each other. If someone’s ideas within a thread inspire you to write something specific, check they’re happy for you to do so.

Accept the SAS headcanon that upon his arrival to Midgard, there will immediately be enough Loki copies for all of us. It is known.

Let me know if anyone has any very important additions/addendums to this lil FAQ 😁🍆

Lots of ❤️

LGG x Previous Meeting Minutes: (AKA notable thirst trains/hysteria for posterity) LCM & LGG do Soccer Aid (Live reblog chaos) Loki’s pubic hair (magical merkin) Unhinged at Loki being Loki - SAVE YOURSELVES The Re-enforced Gusset Legend of the Sentient Pants The SAS Badge (and motto) Tom's Innocent Picture and the Disappearing Panties Messing up a sexy Prince The erotic devastation of the jawline Fingers like Barbie Legs (Hand Appreciation) Tom Hiddleston’s Snakehips (Dancing) Sentient Leather Pants The Sluttiest Figurine Loki’s detachable phallus Counting Moles Banoir (The Brown Towel)

#SAS FAQ #sexualapocalypsesociety

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lindsey-laufeyson · 1 year

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Distractions- Chapter 3

Distractions Masterlist

Pairing: Reader x FWB!Tom Hiddleston

Series Warnings: SMUT, fluff, angst, friends with benefits

You went to work the next day with a pep in your step, your nicest push-up bra, and the lowest v-neck t-shirt you could find, ready for a day of flirting, teasing, and hopefully more sex by the end of it. When you arrived at your trailer, however, you were surprised to find your new assistant, Kaitlyn, eagerly waiting for you.

“Good morning,” she chirped, giving you an enthusiastic wave.

“Oh, um, hi” you stammered. “I’m so sorry, I forgot you were starting today! Come on in!” You ushered her into the trailer and showed her around while you gave her a brief rundown of what she’ll be doing with you for her first day. “And if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask.”

“Sounds great,” she replied.

Just then you heard the door open and Tom walked in carrying two coffees, just as he had the day before. When he saw Kaitlyn, he had a look of surprise on his face, probably not dissimilar to yours when you arrived. “Oh hello,” he greeted Kaitlyn, who immediately became very excited.

“Hi, I’m Kaitlyn,” she responded enthusiastically. “I’m so excited to work with you! I’m a huge fan!”

“Kaitlyn is my new assistant,” you clarified.

Tom turned to look at you and his eyes were immediately drawn to your generously exposed cleavage, at which point he quickly redirected his gaze back to Kaitlyn, clearing his throat and gulping hard. “It’s, erm, very nice to meet you,” he told her. “Had I known you were going to be here today, I would have gotten you a coffee as well.” He handed you your coffee, seemingly unable to prevent his eyes from briefly darting to your chest before looking back at Kaitlyn. You couldn’t help but be proud of yourself for being able to even briefly disrupt his normally smooth demeanor.

“Oh that is so kind,” she responded to Tom sweetly. “But I actually don’t drink coffee.”

So she’s just naturally this chipper all the time? you thought. Tom gave you a look as if he was thinking the exact same thing, causing you to bite back a laugh.

Your silent question was soon answered when you and Kaitlyn worked on Tom’s makeup and hair, and she never stopped talking the whole time. Even on set, she seemed to have something to say every time the camera stopped rolling.

Of course, you only actually caught about half of what she was saying because you were a bit preoccupied with watching Tom, counting every time he snuck a glance at your boobs, knowing that he was trying so hard to be professional. It was like your new favorite game. Eventually, he must have resided to address it, because you got a text from him while he was sitting only a few feet away from you, as they set up for the next scene.

For the rest of the day, you continued playing your secret little game, excited for whatever repercussions awaited you at Tom’s place that night. Luckily, Kaitlyn seemed too wrapped up in whatever she was talking about at any given time to notice how distracted you were. As soon as filming wrapped, you rushed through training her on how to clean and prep for the next day, before dashing out to your car and heading for the address Tom gave you.

…

You knocked on Tom’s door feeling both excited and nervous. You heard a dog bark as well as Tom’s voice. “Oh hush now, Bobby, you silly pup.” When he opened the door, you gave him a bashful smile.

“Hi,” you said simply.

“Hello, darling,” he greeted you with a smirk, pulling you inside. A chocolate brown cocker spaniel excitedly ran circles around your feet, sniffing you and wagging his tail. You knelt down to pet him.

“Is this the famous Bobby I’ve heard so much about?” you asked Tom as you gave the dog scratches behind the ears.

Tom chuckled. “Yes, and he would love for you to give him pets and attention all night,” he began as he helped you to stand back up and then stepped close to you. “But I’m afraid we have other business to attend to first.”

“And what would that be?” you asked, but your question was quickly answered when he unzipped your jacket like he was unwrapping a fragile gift, gazing at your chest in awe as you shrugged the jacket off of your shoulders. When it fell to the floor it seemed to startle Bobby, who then scurried off to his bed. “Oh, poor buddy,” you cooed after the dog.

“You’re evil for doing this to me today,” Tom told you, clearly paying no attention to anything other than your impeccable cleavage.

“Come on now,” you playfully implored, peeling your shirt off and tossing it on the floor. “If I was evil, I wouldn’t have come over to let you play with them.”

His eyebrows knitted together and his tongue darted out to wet his lips, looking like a puppy with a treat in front of him. “I take it back,” he said, lightly brushing your bra straps off your shoulders and then reaching back to undo the clasp. “You’re an angel.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” you replied, giggling. As soon as your bra was off, Tom pulled you in for a kiss, his large hands hungrily groping your now bare tits. Then, without warning, he lifted you up so that your legs wrapped around his waist and carried you to the sofa, laying you down on your back while he hovered above you.

As soon as your back hit the leather, his lips found your nipple and began sucking, causing you to gasp and arch your back. While his mouth played mercilessly with one nipple, his hand played with the other, making you whimper and squirm underneath him, and getting you wetter and wetter by the second. You reached down and started unbuttoning his shirt, and he paused his actions so he could finish taking it off.

As he sat up on his knees, you marveled at his chiseled torso for a moment, your eyes grazing over every muscle. Once you found his hip creases, you followed them down to the waistline of his trousers, just below which was his prominent erection straining against the fabric.

Licking your lips, you sat up and began unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers. You smirked up at him. “Now it’s my turn to play,” you told him before swiftly tugging his trousers down just below his ass and groin, causing his cock to spring up in front of you. He stared down at you intently, his mouth falling open slightly. You, however, were too preoccupied with the sizable prize in front of you to notice. Not only was it long, but it was thick and veiny too, the head red with a bead of precum oozing from the tip. You wrapped one hand around the base of the shaft, leaned in, and licked the clear sticky liquid from the slit. Hearing him hiss quietly, you looked up at him through your lashes, wanting to see his reaction as your tongue drew slow circles around the head of his throbbing dick. His lower jaw jutted out just a bit and a soft sigh escaped his lungs. Never taking your eyes off of him, you wrapped your lips around the corona and lightly sucked on the head. He laced his fingers in your hair and his eyes fell closed as he hummed contently. You continued sucking and swirling your tongue while you watched him slowly unravel. His breathing became more labored, his face and chest were beginning to flush a light pink, his fingers were massaging your scalp with more and more pressure until he grabbed a fistful of your hair and bucked his hips slightly, forcing a bit more of his length into your mouth. You released him with a menacing little chuckle. “You want to fuck my mouth, don’t you?”

As soon as he lost contact with your mouth, his eyes shot open and he looked down at you with a pleading expression. A breathy “Fuck yes,” was all he could muster.

The hand that was still on his shaft began pumping him agonizingly slow. “Well, darling, I’m afraid I have to see just how much of this cock I can take in my mouth before that can happen,” you told him, feigning innocence. “Seeing as though you’re so fucking big…” With the flat of your tongue, you licked a long stripe up the underside of his penis, from base to tip. You heard him quietly whimper in anticipation, causing your cunt to flood with fresh arousal. You took him in your mouth again, this time sucking his length in further and further. Once you were sure you’d almost reached your limit, you pulled back, opened your throat as much as you could, and took him in even deeper, ushering a low groan from him. That’s when you began sliding your mouth up and down his cock, sucking as hard as you could while taking him as deep as your throat would allow.

“Holy shit,” Tom moaned, gripping your hair tighter. You reached behind him and grabbed his ass, pulling him toward you and signaling to him that he could finally have his way with you. He started cautiously thrusting his hips and you moaned around his member as if to tell him to keep going. He took your cue and began fucking your mouth. The tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat made your eyes water, but you didn’t care because he was making the sexiest noises while he took what he wanted. “Oh god, Y/N, I’m gonna cum!”

You hummed your approval just before he spurted hot cum down your throat. You happily swallowed every drop until he pulled back, his softening cock slipping from your lips with a slight pop.

You both laid back against opposite ends of the sofa. “That was… incredible,” he huffed, combing his fingers through his hair and panting heavily.

“I’m glad.” You chuckled lightly, staring up at the ceiling while you massaged your cheeks and mouth, knowing you’d be sore later.

“Seems like you enjoyed it quite a bit as well,” he teased.

You lifted your head to look at him. “Why do you say that?”

He smiled mischievously at you. “Sweetheart, you’ve soaked through your jeans.”

“Shit, really?” You reached between your legs and felt a small wet spot on your crotch. “Goddammit, these were my last clean pair, and I was hoping to get another day out of them before I have to do laundry.”

Tom laughed as he stood up and pulled his trousers back up. “Here. Take them off,” he told you, holding out his hand.

You gave him a quizzical look. “Normally guys tell me to take my pants off before they’ve had a chance to cum,” you teased while you wiggled out of your jeans and gave them to him.

He looked at you expectantly. “Knickers too, love.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, you slipped your soaked panties off and gave them to him, feeling oddly exposed despite the fact that his mouth was just on your bare pussy a mere twenty four hours ago. “May I ask what you’re going to do with my clothes?”

He walked towards the front door to pick up your shirt and bra. “I’m just washing them, you sicko,” he said teasingly.

“You really don’t have to do that,” you implored.

“Please, I insist. Unless you have somewhere to be in the next couple of hours.”

“And what am I supposed to wear in the meantime?” you asked.

“Preferably nothing,” he replied, winking at you. “But if you’re cold, you can wear my shirt.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ugh, so cliché.”

“Do you want clean clothes, or not?”

You sighed, defeated. “Fine,” you told him, but he was already walking away. “No panty sniffing though!” you called after him.

“Too late,” he sang playfully, turning around and walking backwards so you could see him take a big whiff of your underwear and giving a pleasurable sigh as he exhaled.

“You are so naughty!” you yelled, giggling and throwing one of the throw pillows at him. He dodged it and scurried off to what you assumed was the laundry room.

Once Tom disappeared from view, you found his shirt on the floor and put it on. The soft cotton of the light blue button down felt nice against your skin and the bottom hem of the shirt fell just below your ass. After putting the shirt on, you took a moment to look around. You were in a sunken lounge with a brown leather sectional facing a wall made almost entirely up of bookshelves, apart from a TV and a fireplace in the middle. It suited him well.

“Would you like some wine, darling,” you heard him call from another room.

“Yes, please,” you replied. “Red if you have it.” Then you remembered you were wearing his shirt. “Actually, better go with white,” you corrected yourself, not wanting to risk staining it.

A few moments later, you were perusing Tom’s book collection when he came back to the lounge with 2 glasses of wine. “Well fuck,” he huffed, and you turned around. “I knew you’d look gorgeous in my shirt, but… wow.”

You smiled bashfully and shook your head as you took your glass of wine. “That’s just because it’s your shirt, you narcissist,” you teased him.

He grabbed you by the waist with his free hand and pulled you close. “I can assure you, that’s not the reason,” he told you, leaning his head down to kiss you.

You spent the next couple of hours just sipping your wine and talking, only pausing once so that Tom could switch the laundry over to the dryer. It was surprisingly easy and comfortable, like you had known each other for years, yet still had the excitement of a new fling.

“So, I have a question for you,” Tom began, setting his empty glass on an end table.

“What’s that, Tommy boy?” You asked from the opposite end of the couch. You mirrored his actions by setting your glass down as well and shooting him an inquisitive look.

“Why the hell are you all the way over there?” As he said this, he suddenly grabbed your ankle and pulled you toward him so that you slid down onto your back and then he crawled over your body until his nose was touching yours. You squealed and giggled in response, before he kissed you hard on the lips and hitched your leg over his hip. Your kiss was soon interrupted, however, by the buzzer from the dryer. “Hold that thought,” he told you before springing up to go get your clothes.

You huffed in frustration. “You know you really don’t have to get them right this second,” you called after him as you stood up from the sofa. He didn’t answer, but a few minutes later he came back with your folded clothes in his hands.

“I want you to know, that you are perfectly welcome to put these on and go home now if you really want,” he began, sounding less than enthused about that option. Then he stepped closer to you, putting his free hand on your waist. “Or we could just bring these up to the bedroom so that they are there for you when you wake up in the morning.” As he finished his sentence, he dipped his head down to ghost his lips over the sensitive skin just below your ear. “What do you think?”

“A sleepover, huh?” you asked, your eyelids falling closed as he placed soft kisses to your neck.

“Mmhm,” he hummed in response.

“I mean, I guess,” you teased, feigning indifference. “If you really want me to.”

He brought his lips to your ear and the hand that was on your waist crept down below the shirt you were wearing. “I really, really do,” he whispered, giving your pussy a few gentle strokes with his index finger.

“Well then, lead the way.”

He took your hand in his and led you to his bedroom. Once there, he set your clothes on top of his dresser and then turned to you, gazing down at you lustfully as he began to unbutton your shirt. “You won’t be needing this anymore,” he said in a low tone, pushing the garment off of your shoulders and letting it fall to the floor.

He took a moment to look at your naked figure, running his hands gently over your curves. Then he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a heated kiss. You placed your palms on his chest, lightly rubbing your thumbs over his nipples. He hummed in response as he walked you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you fell back, leaving him standing above you.

Tom looked down at you hungrily, and you smirked back up at him before turning around onto your hands and knees, giving him a perfect view of your ass. You looked back at him over your shoulder and smiled as you wiggled your rear a bit. His gaze was transfixed on your butt while he placed both hands on it, rubbing it affectionately before giving it a light smack. You yelped and giggled, encouraging him to do it again. He gave you another spank, slightly harder this time, causing you to gasp and moan. He snickered and knelt down on the floor by the foot of the bed so that your ass and cunt were right in front of his face. You smiled in anticipation and laid your head and chest down on the mattress and spread your knees apart, creating the perfect angle for him to access your pussy. Suddenly, you felt his tongue tease your entrance, playing with your delicate folds and then dipping between them.

“Mmmm,” he hummed into your channel. You rocked your hips back a little, signaling you wanted more. He gently sucked one of your delicate pussy lips into his mouth, and then the other.

“That’s so good, baby,” you whined. He released your folds from his lips and found your clit with the tip of his tongue, lazily flicking it. You whimpered and moaned until you couldn’t take it anymore. “Fuck, Tom, I need your cock!”

“Are you sure, darling?” he asked playfully. “Because I could spend hours lapping at this delicious little pussy of yours.” He gave a few more flicks of his tongue to your clit.

“Please,” you begged, clenching your cunt around nothing. “Fuck me!”

Chuckling, he stood up behind you. “You’re so sexy when you beg,” he praised, as you heard the sound of a condom wrapper tearing open. He placed a hand on your hip and rubbed his thumb affectionately over your soft skin.

You felt his hard member nudge at your entrance. “Put it in, now!” you commanded.

His hand met your ass cheek with a loud smack. “What was that, sweetheart?”

“Please,” you begged for him. “Please put your massive cock in my aching pussy and fuck me raw!”

With a grunt, Tom swiftly thrusted his length inside you.

“Oh fuck!” you cried, his size causing a slightly uncomfortable but mostly pleasurable stretch.

He leaned down and put his lips to your ear. “This alright, love?” He asked as his hand snaked around to your front and his fingers found your clit and rubbed gentle circles into it.

“Mmmm god yes,” you moaned, swiveling your hips. The stimulation from his fingers on your clit opened you up more and allowed his cock to enter you a bit further.

“Good girl,” he purred, rolling his hips back and then pushing into you even further still. He sucked on your earlobe while slowly beginning to pump in and out of you, soft grunts and groans coming from the back of his throat. His fingers kept a steady rhythm on your clit.

Your moans were becoming louder and longer as your climax came closer and closer. You were sure you were drooling into the mattress at this point but you didn’t care.

“Are you going to cum for me, beautiful?” He asked in a low, gruff voice.

“Yes,” you cried out. “Ooooooh yes, yes! YES!” You tumbled over the edge of bliss, your walls clenching and fluttering around his cock.

With a loud grunt, Tom sat up, took his fingers off of your clit so he could grab your hips with both hands, and started pounding into you, relentlessly.

“Oh my fucking GOD!” you wailed. At this point you didn’t know if this was a second orgasm or an intense continuation of the first, but you didn’t care. As you rode out your high, you heard Tom’s panting and moaning becoming more desperate, and then with a loud groan of your name, he came too, no doubt filling the condom to its limit with a few more staggered thrusts.

As soon as he pulled out of you, you turned onto your back and laid there panting, watching him as he threw away the condom and then came back to lean over you, his hands on either side of your head. “You, my dear, are phenomenal,” he said breathlessly, dipping his head down to kiss your cheek.

“You have to give yourself at least some of the credit,” you teased. “Seeing as though you just fucked me silly into your mattress.”

“Well, if you’re able to get up off of said mattress, the en suite bathroom is right in there.” He nodded his head toward the doorway to your left. “Feel free to use whatever you need to and then come join me back in bed, okay?”

You smiled and nodded, and he helped you get up. As you walked toward the en suite, Tom gave you one more cheeky swat on the butt. You shot back a playful glare before disappearing into the bathroom.

After peeing, and gargling some of Tom’s mouthwash, you went back into the bedroom to find him laying in bed, waiting for you.

“Did you find everything you needed?” Tom asked as you climbed into bed next to him. He held out his arm, inviting you to cuddle up to him.

“I did, thank you. And I made note of what to steal when I leave in the morning,” you joked as you laid down next to him, resting your head and hand on his chest. “Are you sure you’re okay with me sleeping here tonight?” you asked, lifting your head again to look at him and attempting to stifle a yawn.

He chuckled lightly, and brushed your cheek with his thumb. “I’m positive. Why would I ever want a gorgeous woman like yourself to leave my bed?”

“Was that a rhetorical question? Because if not, I could probably come up with some reasons.”

He smiled and shook his head. “Rhetorical. Please stay. I enjoy the company.”

You acted defeated, sighing exaggeratedly as you laid your head back down on his chest. “Fine, but if I don’t get enough sleep, you are the one who has to deal with an ill-tempered MUA, and if you don’t get enough sleep, I’m the one who has to try to hide the bags under your eyes, in which case you will still have to deal with an ill-tempered MUA.”

His chest rumbled underneath your head as he laughed. “Well, you are welcome to go home if you really want.”

“Oh no, I’m staying,” you clarified, snuggling deeper into him. “I’m way too comfortable to leave now.”

“Good,” he replied softly, as he began to lightly run his fingers up and down your back, putting you to sleep almost immediately.

…

When the alarm on your phone went off the next morning, you were a bit disoriented, forgetting that you didn’t sleep in your own bed. Suddenly, a long, muscular arm flopped down on top of you and made you jump a little bit. “Jesus!”

“It’s Tom, actually,” replied the sleepy voice to which the arm was attached.

“You scared me,” you said, chuckling quietly. Tom simply groaned in reply as he pulled you close to him, so that your back was flush against his chest. It turns out this man was quite the cuddler, which you certainly didn’t mind, but you needed to go home and get ready for work. “I have to leave,” you whispered to him.

He nuzzled his face into your hair and sighed. “Ten more minutes.”

You reached your hand behind you to gently scratch his scalp. “You are more than welcome to sleep for ten more minutes, or even longer if you’d like, but unfortunately I don’t have that luxury, so I’m afraid you’re going to have to let go of me.”

“Mm-mm,” he lazily protested, as his arm tightened around your waist. You suddenly felt something hard poke you in your lower back.

“Oh my,” you said with a chuckle. “Someone was having some very pleasant dreams.”

“Morning wood,” he mumbled. “Still sleepy…. Ten more minutes…” His grip around your waist loosened and he began to snore softly in your ear.

You giggled quietly as you ever so gently lifted his arm off of you and slid out of bed. Then, after getting dressed, you left his house as quietly as you could, so he could sleep in a little longer.

#tom hiddleston #original content #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x female reader #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston fluff #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston smut #tom hiddleston fwb #tom hiddleston x y/n #distractions fic

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georgiesgirl1223 · 6 months

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Sangria

Tom Hiddleston x named female reader

This little bit was inspired by Blake Shelton's song Sangria

Warnings: NSFW, drinking, unprotected sex, slight nipple play

Word Count: 2630 after lyrics

youtube

You’re crashing into me like waves on the coast Every time we talk, you move in close I don’t want you stop, I don’t want you to stop tonight We’ve got the last two glasses on a straw hook bar Trying to remember what number we are String of white lights making your eyes shine tonight We’re buzzing like that no vacancy sign out front Your skin is begging to be kissed by a little more than the sun You take my hand in yours, you lean in And your lips taste like sangria, your lips taste like sangria Recking ball dancing down the hallway You’re holding your shoes, wearing my shades We fall against the door, we fall into a wild warm kiss We’re buzzing like that no vacancy sign out front Your skin is begging to be kissed by a little more than the sun You take my hand in yours, you lean in And your lips taste like sangria, your lips taste like sangria Only thing I want to do tonight is drink you like a Spanish wine Let you let this head of mine keep spinning, spinning around We’re buzzing like that no vacancy sign out front Your skin is begging to be kissed by a little more than the sun You take my hand in yours, you lean in And your lips taste like sangria, your lips taste like sangria Your lips taste like sangria, your lips taste like sangria Only thing I want to do tonight is drink you like a Spanish wine Let you let this head of mine keep spinning, spinning around

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

Becky walked along the shoreline of the deserted beach, her toes sinking into the soft pink sand as the warm ocean water lapped at her feet. It was her first solo trip since her boyfriend had broken things off with her and she figured the calming beaches of Barbados would be the perfect retreat. Glancing out into the open ocean a cool, fragrant breeze swept across her face, blowing her soft auburn locks in the wind. Her short white lace bohemian inspired dress billowed in the air as the wind swept it up caressing her sun kissed skin. The sun was beginning to set low into the sky as if it were melting into the water, casting a deep pink glow across the sky.

Digging her toes into the cool sand, Becky watched as the orange glow of the setting sun danced ripples across the waves of the ocean. Taking a deep breath in, she let it out, blowing all of the negativity out of her body as another breeze caressed her face. In that moment she finally felt free. Free of the heartbreak, free from the sadness that had consumed her and now she wanted nothing more than to celebrate her new-found freedom. Turning and continuing on her trek, Becky made her way back to her beachside hotel, more specifically the small tiki bar that shared a wall with her hotel. Her feet sank into the wet sand, the grains squishing in-between her tanned, manicured toes as the hotel sign came into view, the red no-vacancy sign buzzing brightly against the dark sky of the setting sun. Opening the door to the beach themed bar a wave of cold artificial air assaulted her face as she breezed in, making her way to the bar. The pink sand carried on into the bar, working as the floor, her feet sinking into it as she stumbled to the straw hut bar. Glancing around the small local bar she noticed only a few occupants, couples mostly judging by the way they sat so close together. Her eyes then followed the length of the bar as she noticed a familiar face sitting just a couple stools down from her. He was dressed in a pair of tight-fitting coral colored shorts, a white loosely buttoned shirt with the sleeves rolled up showing off his muscular forearms, a set of aviator sunglasses tucked into his shirt, and a pair of brown leather flipflops. Becky tried to control the fangirl that screamed inside her as she gave him a shy smile, biting her lower lip when she noticed he was staring back at her. Tossing her brown strappy sandals on the ground next to her, she hopped onto one of the backless, straw covered stools.

The heavy-set man, dressed in pineapple patterned pink board shorts and a powder blue tank top, from behind the bar stepped over to her. “What can I get you sweetie” he asked her in a gruff voice.

Becky nervously glanced through the menu, not even reading it as she looked around at the other patrons. “Umm… Sangria please.”

The bartender quickly returned with her beverage, a large goblet of the deep burgundy fruity wine, thin slices of oranges, lemons, and limes decorated the drink. Becky slowly sipped on her drink as she anxiously surveyed the room. It had been so long since she was out on her own and there was a part of her that was uncomfortable with the whole idea. Fidgeting with the thin spaghetti straps of her dress, she couldn’t help but steal longing glances at the man perched at the end of the bar. Replacing her half empty glass on the bar, Becky caressed the stemware, the water beads forming on the glass moistening her fingers. Her body absentmindedly swayed to the seductive island music playing in the background, her shoulders rhythmically moving, her head cocked to the left as she stared blankly at the wineglass on the straw hut bar.

Moments later she couldn’t help but feel eyes on her, the man’s fiery stare set her skin aflame with desire. Her heart began to race, threatening to pound out of her chest as she noticed from the corner of her eye as the man stood and stalked towards her. The closer the man got with every step the more butterflies seemed to flutter in her stomach, her pulse rapid as her body began to involuntarily quiver in anticipation, in the hope that he was walking towards her. Stopping just a few feet shy of where she sat, Becky glanced over her shoulder as the man gestured to the bar stool next to her.

“My I?” The man asked, his British accent thick and seductive as he spoke making Becky tremble inside.

“Please” she signaled with a soft smile, her cherry red lips curling up.

“I’m Tom.” The man introduced himself as he hopped onto the stool, holding out his hand to her.

“Becky.” She replied grasping his hand, expecting a simple handshake. Electricity pulsed through them as their palms touched, Tom taking her hand in his, bringing it to his lips and placing a soft kiss over her knuckles. A shiver ran down her spine and settled in her core the moment his lips connected with her bare skin.

“It’s a pleasure, Becky” Tom said, glancing up into her hazel eyes from over her hand, his blue-green eyes sparkling back at her from under the dim light of the bar.

As they continued their idol chit-chat the bartender approached the duo as Tom ordered two more glasses of sangria.

Hours seemed to fly by as they sipped on their fruity drinks, sharing everything from embarrassing stories from their childhood to talking about their present-day lives, Becky even told him the real reason she had decided to take this spontaneous trip. They laughed together, speaking to one another as if they had known each other for years, and from the amount of knowledge each shared it could’ve been possible.

As Tom ordered their fourth glass of sangria Becky was starting to feel a little tipsy, but not so much as she was losing control of her own thoughts. Her shoulder crashed into his like the waves on the beach as she adjusted herself in her seat. Every time they spoke Becky moved in closer to him, delighting in the warmth of his body and the tingle of his breath on her skin as he spoke.

Tom loved how Becky would lean in closer to him, her fragrant smell of grapefruit mixed with the ocean air excited his senses. He didn’t want her to stop, he didn’t want her to stop tonight, he didn’t ever want her to stop.

Soon they were the last two glasses on the straw hut bar as the bartender called last call for the night. Finishing their drinks, they sipped on the fruity wine slowly as they both leaned in closer, Tom noticing the soft sun kissed skin of her neck as it begged him to be kissed. Carefully leaning into her, Tom stole a soft kiss as his lips swept over her shoulder. This wasn’t like him, like either of them. Tom had never picked up a girl at the bar for a one-night stand before, nor has Becky ever had a fling with a man she barely knows. But, for both of them it felt like more, more than just a one-time fling, they both felt a deeper connection that they’d talk about tomorrow. Tonight, it was about giving into their intense passion, their obvious desires for one another, tonight was about sex. Tom’s eyes roamed hungrily over her body, the string lights above the bar making her eyes shine as he locked onto them.

They were both buzzing like the no vacancy sign out front. Becky nervously took his and into hers as she leaned in, Tom capturing her soft lips with his as she hummed against his mouth. Tom relished in the feeling of her mouth on his, how her lips parted allowing his tongue entrance as he deepened the kiss. Their tongues mingled together as he groaned out. There was something magnetic about her, he felt drawn to her from the first moment he first noticed her walk into the bar, and their passionate kiss proved all of his deepest thoughts, that their connection ran deeper than just lust. Letting out a deep guttural growl, his tongue explored her, the taste of sangria still on her lips. Her lips tasted like sangria and he was becoming drunk in love off of them.

Tracing her fingertips up his chiseled chest from over his shirt as she grabbed his sunglasses, putting them on as she struck a cheeky pose just for him. Helping her stand, Becky bent down retrieving her sandals as they walked together into the hotel. Making their way inside their bodies tangled franticly together like a wrecking ball dancing down the hallway. Coming to his door, they fell against it, Tom pinning her between his arms as they fell into a wild, warm kiss, savoring in the lingering taste of sangria on her mouth.

Eagerly he opened the door as they fell inside and stumbled onto the bed, the red no vacancy sign flashing from outside the window, lighting up the dark room. Lifting up her dress, Tom pulled it over her head and tossed it aside as she laid back on his plush four-poster bed in nothing but a white lace thong that seemed to glow against her sun kissed skin. Her body writhed on the mattress in a silent plea to be kissed, to be touched, by him and only him. Standing over her, Tom slowly unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall off his shoulders and onto the floor. Becky bit her lower lip and she hungrily glanced over the British God standing before her with his muscular chest and his well-defined abs. Tom gave her a cheeky grin as he worked on undoing his belt, unzipping his shorts and pulling them down along with his boxers, leaving them to pool on the floor as he stepped out of them. His enormous nine-inch erect cock stood at attention before her as her eyes widened, biting her lower lip as she thought of how full he would make her feel. Becky shuddered as he ghosted his hands lightly up her legs, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her thong and eagerly ripping them down revealing the soft mound of her waxed pussy. Tom groaned out as he took her all in, her beautiful naked body sprawled out on his bed for him, only for him. His head was spinning with thoughts of her, about that moment, about what the future could hold for them. But tonight, all he wanted to do was drink her in like a Spanish wine. He knelt on the bed, crawling towards her like a cat as he stared longingly into her eyes. “You are so gorgeous Becky” he whispered against her lips before they crashed onto hers, their tongues darting in and out as they danced together. Their limbs tangled together as she wrapped her legs around his waist, his hard cock pressing against her inner thigh as she felt him twitch against her. Her hands grazed down his muscular back as her fingertips pressed firmly into her skin, her nails digging into his flesh. Tom’s left hand cradled the back of her head as his fingertips curled into her silky locks, she had to know that this was more than just a one-night stand for him. His right hand explored down the side of her body, his long fingers sprawling out as they danced across her skin. His mouth nipped down her neck, eliciting soft moans from her as her body gyrated beneath him. Finding her breast, Tom roughly kneaded it with his palm, his nimble fingers tweaking her nipple, rolling and tugging as it became a hard, stiff peak.

“Oh Tom” she cried out into the darkness as his warm body enveloped hers.

“Oh God, Becky” he growled out against her neck, the vibration of his voice sending intense shivers down her spine. Just the fact that this man was moaning her name out loud excited her.

Reaching down, Tom lined up his throbbing cock with her warm, wet entrance. Looking up at her, he watched as her eyes grew darker as he slowly slid into her inch by agonizingly slow inch. Her walls stretched around him, gripping him tightly and pulling him in deeper as his own pupils blew out. Becky clung tightly to him as he fully planted himself into her wanton pussy. This was like nothing she had ever felt before as she adjusted to the intrusion.

“Are you okay?” He asked her, concerned that he was hurting her.

“Perfect” she breathed out, ready and wanting more as she bucked against him, needing to feel his friction against her body.

Tom began to pump in and out of her, slowly at first to allow her to get comfortable as she arched her back, her head falling back needing more.

“Look at me Becky” he commanded, Becky glancing up under hooded eyes as they locked with his.

Tom’s thrusts became deeper, more powerful, watching as ecstasy washed over her face with every thrust. She felt so tight that it was all he could to not to cum in that instant, instead he watched her as she came undone beneath his body. Becky cried out his name like a spiritual mantra as she bucked her hips against his with every thrust, feeling him go deeper and deeper as he hit her g-spot every time. Her body began to quiver and tense as Tom edged her closer to her release. Caressing up her side with his right hand, it found hers as she clung to the bedsheets, he intertwined their fingers together, his eyes never parting from hers. Tom felt her walls tighten and contract around his cock pushing him closer and closer to his own orgasm as his cock twitched inside of her.

“I’m going to cum” Becky panted out, squeezing his hand tighter as her bucks became more frantic.

“Me too” Tom breathed out before capturing his lips with hers, the distinct taste of sangria still prominent. Their tongues mingled together as his thrusts began to faulter and become more erratic. Moans and cries were swallowed by their kisses as they came out in panted muffles. High-pitched noises drowned in Becky’s mouth as she came, her juices dripping down Tom’s cock as he gave her two more powerful thrusts before spilling is seed into her, long thick ropes of milky white cum coating her walls. Breaking their embrace, Tom slipped out of her and collapsed on the bed next to her, pulling her in close to his side. Gripping at her hair, Tom twirled her locks around his long fingers, he cradled her head against his chest as their haggard breaths began to calm. Becky traced circles over his chest as Tom held her in his strong arms, a satisfied smile crossing both their faces.

“I want to be like this for the rest of eternity” Tom told her, his British accent still making her weak in the knees.

“You do?” She asked quizzically, tilting her head up to judge his seriousness.

“I do” he answered caressing her flushed cheek with his fingers. “And I intend on doing just that.” Tom hooked is finger under her chin, tilting her head up further as he kissed her passionately and with purpose as if telling her that he had no intention of ever letting her go.

Leaning back Tom licked his lips. Her lips still tasted like sangria.

#tom hiddleston #smutober #tom hiddelston x reader #sangria #Youtube

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brunchable · 2 years

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The Hollow Vows, Ch. 4: Two Worlds Collide || Royalty!S.S x Royalty!Reader x Royalty!T.H.

Word count: 10.1K

Genre: Period Drama, Angst, Royalty AU.

Pairings: Stephen Strange x Reader, Tom Hiddleston x Reader.

Warning: Mild Violence: Sword fight. Combat.

A/N: Story has no set/final plot, just going with the flow. Thank you to all the read my stories. I love reading your thoughts so let me know what you want to see next. I hope this one isn't too boring.

Long, long ago, and for millennia before that, the first humans to settle in Cardonia were of Xarean origin; lured there by Mystic mercenaries with the promise of land in exchange for their servitude, they were instead transformed into slaves. They had poured their blood and effort into constructing magnificent, sprawling civilizations, built them temples to their feral gods.

One day, humanity all throughout the nation engaged in a widespread and violent uprising. The War had been so bloody and destructive that it took 3 mystic Kings and 3 appointed mortal Kings to compose the Treaty, which stopped the killing on both sides and allowed the wall to be built. The West of Cardonia was given to those with Pure Mystic blood and enchanted creatures, who took their magic with them. The East was taken over by Xareans, who made the Empire. To pacify the mortals of the east, the three mystical kings agreed to outlaw the use of magic altogether, ensuring that it would never again be used as a weapon.

As part of his punishment, Stephen was ordered to gather intelligence about the neighbouring kingdoms by speaking with mercenaries on his father's behalf. However, that wasn't all he got for his transgression; as part of his punishment, he had to spend his days patrolling the prison.

To mask his disgust at the combination of liquor and perspiration, he covered his nose as he waited for the mercenary he had been tasked with meeting in a bar. Since an assassin had been sent to kill him, he donned a black cloak with a hood to conceal his identity. However, the question remained: who had dispatched the hitman, and why?

“They found Lewis this evening, just outside the Dunwich Forest, dead.”

Stephen glanced up from his glass of rum, which he had no plans of finishing, and saw three men sitting at the table across from him, all of their cheeks stained red from the alcohol they had consumed.

“Dead?” a low ranking guard said, one with brown hair and a soft face, “He wasn’t just dead. Lewis was unrecognisable, his flesh chewed up like wild dogs had a go at him, and then torn to pieces.”

Stephen hid his participation in the talk by lowering his head so that others around him would not notice that he was listening in. It seemed unthinkable since wild dogs could never act in such a way unless they were provoked. Not to add the fact that the Dunwich Forest did not have any feral dogs living there.

“You know what that means,” the young one went on, “The other Kingdoms must be near. An attack will—”

“Not sure this is the right conversation to be having out in public.” one of the older guards cut in and looked around. The mercenary came just in time and assumed the position directly opposite to Stephen, thereby obstructing the vision of the other three men. In the presence of Stephen, he made a polite gesture of bowing his head, and the Prince dismissed him by waving his hands.

“So. . . they found a man’s corpse in the forest?” Stephen asked the latter. There was not the slightest shred of doubt in anyone's mind that the mercenary was already aware of this. The news spread like wildfire very quickly. Stephen suddenly found himself wondering how many individuals his father had threatened to silence in order to prevent his affair with Christine from becoming public knowledge. It wasn't to protect the reputation of his son; it was to protect his own.

“Does the attack have anything to do with Yelenet and Eivengard?” Stephen asked again.

“There's a possibility. No one really knows what they are planning,” the mercenary said, his face like stone. “We have no idea whether King Baron is losing control of their beasts or if these are deliberate attacks. An old Xarean aristocrat I was guarding said things had been growing worse for the previous half-century. Two weeks ago, he boarded a boat to the south and advised me to do the same. Just before he left, he revealed that he'd heard that a group of daevas had broken through the wall at night and destroyed half of his town.”

“Daeva?” The air came into Stephen. He had an idea that there was a wide variety of demons and creatures, but he could only identify a limited group. The mercenary’s night-dark eyes flickered.

“Ancient demonic creatures of shadow, they're savage, animalistic, nasty attitudes— kinda like demonic pit bulls. Similar to hellhounds and unlike most demons, these demons do not need a host to attack humans. They left the villagers in literal ribbons, the nobleman said.” Stephen’s stomach turned. This is what their Field Marshal, Wong, has been training him for—his father was unaware that he was being taught magic because it was forbidden, especially when the Kingdom is tight with religious beliefs.

“So we don’t know what all these attacks mean,” the mercenary went on, “other than more jobs for me, and make sure ye’ keeping well away from the borders. Especially if their armies start turning up. Baron would make the daevas seem like dogs.” Stephen studied his scarred hands, chapped from the cold.

“Have you ever faced another type of entity?”

His eyes shuttered. “Ye’ don’t want to know, Prince—not unless ye’ want to be hurling up ye’r breakfast. Are ye’ gonna drink that?” The mercenary gestured towards the glass of rum Stephen hadn't touched and the Prince shook his head.

No one in the plaza dared to talk about it, much alone to go any closer, in the event that anybody had witnessed what was going on. Stephen can't take it for one more minute. The mercenary's words prompted him to rise from his seat, and he stood firm. The plan was for your brother to come to get you up tomorrow morning and bring you back to Xarean for a break. The knowledge that such beings exist left him feeling nauseous. It was a stroke of luck that they weren't anywhere near Black Eagle Woods.

“Thanks for the warnings,” Stephen said.

The older man brought the glass against his lips and jerked his head, “Good luck.”

Stephen adjusted his hood further forward to cover his face. On his way out, a stranger wearing a leather maroon jacket accidentally bumped into his shoulder, “Look out where you’re going.” Stephen said.

“My apologies, Sir.” Tom showed that he did not intend any harm by raising both of his hands in the air. Taking his departure, Stephen cast a cursory look at the man. As he mounted his horse, he saw the stranger looking about as if he had never been there before.

“Are you lost?” Stephen engaged with the stranger which caused the latter to turn around.

“Me? Oh no, no, I’m just waiting for a friend of mine.” Tom answered Stephen casually. Stephen squinted his eyes, this man looks oddly familiar.

“You look familiar, have we met before?”

“I look familiar to many people, I guess I have a common face. And no, I don’t believe we’ve met before or else I would’ve greeted you.” The latter smiled politely.

Another man came out from the pub without recognizing Stephen, "Your Hi—"

Stephen lifted his head while Tom widened his eyes at the man and the latter instantly corrected himself, "Sir Thomas, long time no see, shall we?" The man tried his best to hide his panic as his gaze bounced on and off Stephen.

"It was nice meeting you, sir." Tom nodded his head to Stephen and went inside with the so-called "friend" of his.

Stephen cocked his head to the side; there was something suspicious about that person, but he chose to disregard his gut feeling and instead rode his horse back in the direction of the palace to report what he had discovered to his father.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Tom's military medals were pinned into his uniform, the silver emblems of his specialisations and achievements thumped against his chest as he moved. They were beating like battle drums on his heart now.

“You look glum, brother.” Andrew stormed inside the tent that belonged to his half-brother Tom, sat down in the chair that was directly in front of Tom, and propped his feet up on the table. Tom's mouth twitched in amusement at his younger brother's cavalier attitude, but he couldn't show it since he was too focused on the issue at hand, which was getting his people to safety.

“And you look like our world is not collapsing around us," Tom closes the scroll he was reading and puts it away. This edict was written by their father four winters before the Yelenites were betrayed and invaded, therefore he must have had some kind of premonition about what was about to happen.

“Oh you should relax. You’ll live longer.” Andrew then flung a berry into the air and waited for it to land in his mouth when it dropped from the air.

“Relax? It took us two weeks to get these people somewhere safe and I don’t know if Eltham would be kind enough to consider helping us since we don’t have any relationship with them.”

“Look, Baron’s just another warmonger with no war to fight—we don’t need Eltham’s help.”

“No, you don't know him like I do. He changes location and routines by the hour. We'd be foolish not to take necessary risks—Father needs us, so let's get one thing straight, "we" will play by my rules. Do you understand brother?”

“You sound just like father right now,” Andrew shook his head and took his feet off the table, “and I understand. Get Eltham’s stamp of approval and then overthrow Baron.”

Overthrow Baron Mordo. Tom liked the sound of that term more than "war," and he is willing to do all it takes to send an unthinkable amount of misery and fire down onto the maniac. Tom reached beneath the table and pulled out a sceptre, which he then placed on the surface of the desk in front of Andrew.

“And what in the name of Hecate is that?” When Andrew was shown the sceptre that had a shining blue gemstone on it, he retreated and leaned away from it.

“I believe it’s new magic, I stole it from Baron before we fled,” Tom explained, “Some kind of mind control, I think he was planning to use it to create an army and used it to usurp father.”

Now that Tom had taken one of the most important weapons out of Baron's arsenal, he was certain that Baron would rely on terror to gather his forces. It was just as if there had been a battle that had never even taken place. Everything that their people have been through over the last two years, including being robbed from their houses and being left to decay by the Yelenites, and the Yelenites have merely referred to it as an epidemic. Baron believes that he can raise an army using Eivengard, and the book that he used to teach himself magic is the first step he is taking in gearing up for this war.

“You know you don’t always have to do things alone.” Andrew informed his brother as Tom emerged from the tent where he had just finished changing out of his uniform.

“I need you here Andrew, when I’m not around, you’re in charge.” Tom patted his younger brother’s shoulder.

“You mean in charge under the supervision of General Fury? Pft. So much for being in charge.” Andrew huffed and handed Tom essentials for his short travel inside Eltham’s Kingdom.

Tom elicited a short laugh and ruffled Andrew’s hair which got his hand slapped off in return, “His suggestions just sound like orders—you should be used to that by now.”

“Sure. . .” Andrew paused as Tom swiftly mounted his horse, “Please stay safe, brother. With our father left behind. . . you’re the only one I got left to lean onto.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t get my title as escape artist for nothing—if I’m not back by late evening, I give you permission to find me.” Tom pulled on the horse’s reins, Andrew walked with him just until they reached where the illusion ended.

“I’m not waiting that late—As soon as the skies turn black, best know that I’ll be on my way.”

Tom chuckled and agreed in defeat, “Alright, you know where to find me." He whipped the reins of his horse and galloped away, leaving behind the protection of his illusion. He was going to meet up with Sir Oscar Isaac, who was one of his men who his father had ordered to go to Eltham many years before. According to the letters that he has been writing, he has just been promoted to the position of Knight Captain within the Royal Unit. Tom isn't really sure what their trustworthy knight has in store for them, but he's willing to take the chance that Andrew may not approve of.

Tom found the dirt road that Oscar had detailed in his letters after riding through the woods for half an hour. He was told to dress in the garb of commoners so as not to attract any attention and to leave his horse with an Eivengardi couple who also live in a small village just outside the castle town. After that, he was to walk all the way to a pub called "Fox & Hounds," where Oscar had occupied a private meeting room upstairs.

Tom approached the gates of the castle town with trepidation. At those gates, other people were leaving and entering the town, and the guards were holding onto the hilts of their swords while keeping a tight check on everyone. Tom remained inconspicuous by keeping his head down and avoiding eye contact, assuming that no one would recognise him.

"Excuse me, sir!" Tom was singled out by a patrol officer when we passed through the gate coincidentally at the same time. Tom closes his eyes and nearly lets out an expletive under his breath before turning around and flashing a friendly grin.

“Good afternoon, sir.” Tom greeted the younger guard.

“You dropped this.” The guard handed a couple of letters that fell through Tom’s satchel.

“Oh, thank you very much.” Tom took the letters back hoping the Eltham guard didn’t read any of its contents.

“You ought to get another satchel, sir. There’s a merchant just a few blocks away that sells satchels with great quality leather.” The younger guard advised Tom, pointing to the satchel that now has a significant hole in it, that the bag most likely got caught in a branch when he was riding.

"Thank you, you're very kind." Tom's grin got bigger when he decided to put the letters inside his jacket rather than his pocket. Tom felt like he could finally take a breath after the guard had left and nodded before returning to his post. He turned on his heel and continued to locate the pub. The castle town was larger than he had thought. The buildings and architecture were roughly identical to what they had back home; the only difference today was that Baron had vandalised what was once a wonderful and peaceful Kingdom.

Tom was astounded by the fact that they had been able to construct such a sizable kingdom without making use of any magical means for a century. Eivengard closed their Kingdom due to their use of magic a couple of hundred years ago—it just proves his point that magic is not a necessity.

Tom glanced up and saw the sign for the Fox and Hound tavern; at the same time, he made eye contact with Oscar, who was watching the scene from the window on the second floor. He gave Oscar a subtly acknowledging nod, but he failed to realise that Stephen was walking out, which led to the two of them colliding accidentally.

“You look familiar, have we met before?” Stephen asked him. So much for not being recognised. Tom shook his head, the only thing best to do now is deny—but of course they wouldn’t have met before.

“I look familiar to many people, I guess I have a common face. And no, I don’t believe we’ve met before or else I would’ve greeted you.” Tom smiled politely towards Stephen who was looking uncomfortably wary of him, a pleasant grin in an attempt to gain his trust.

Oscar was in such a hurry to leave the tavern that he failed to recognise Stephen, "Your Hi—" When he saw Tom's anxious expression, he froze in mid-sentence and then quickly rectified himself, saying, “Sir Thomas, long time no see, shall we?”

Tom addressed Stephen before following Oscar inside the noisy pub. He laughed to himself as he glanced about and saw how cheerful everyone was, even if they were singing obscene drinking songs with their friends while downing a pint of beer in the late afternoon.

“Your Majesty, please come this way..” Oscar whispered and ushered Tom upstairs with him in a secluded room used mainly for interrogations. Oscar opened the door for Tom first and then shut it behind him, muffling the singing that was coming from below, “It is with great pleasure to finally see you, Your Highness.”

Oscar put his right hand over his heart and bowed down on one knee in front of Tom before saying, "Rise, Sir Isaac. You are doing the best possible service to our King and our Kingdom."

“Thank you, Your highness,” Oscar rose to his feet, “Please, Sire. Have a seat.”

Tom complied with his request and sat down on one of the wooden chairs. "By the way," he said, "Congratulations on your promotion."

Oscar chuckled and shook his head, “Thank you. . . My Prince, I will not be beating around the bush. Eltham and Xarean have been keeping a close eye on the exchanges made between Yelenet and Eivengard. It is not in your best interest to directly request assistance from them since they have absolutely no faith in Eivengard.”

Tom clenched his jaw, he never thought this would be easy. Now that he's considering his choices, he's wondering whether or not the Kingdom of Vercide might be prepared to provide support. Or their neighbouring Kingdom, Ravacyn?

“They are on high alert, especially in light of the failed attempt to assassinate the Prince, not to mention the horrible deaths that have been discovered on the city's outskirts.” Oscar broke the bad news to his true Prince, “But do allow me to say a suggestion, my Prince.”

Tom lifted his gaze, eager to listen to what Oscar had in mind, “I’m willing to listen, proceed.”

“As Knight Captain, I will be recruiting more for the royal knights unit, if I could get you in—”

“You’re suggesting we infiltrate Eltham?” Tom thinned his lips.

“We can relay the information we already know about what really is happening between Eivengard and Yelenet, and what Baron has got planned.” Oscar proceeded with his idea for Tom to enlist in the Royal Knights Unit. Tom wiped his hand over his face—it wasn’t a bad idea but it would take ages.

“Well, looks like we don’t have any other choice—fill me in.”

“I will write your name in the list that I got, we will be basing your positions on how well you do on the assessments—I suggest you double down on your combat and swordsmanship skills, my Prince. Here, there are seven ranks; Private, Sergeant, Lieutenant, Knight Captain, Knight Commander, Knight General and Knight Marshal.”

Tom nodded and allowed Oscar to continue, “I am under the King’s unit and Commander Barnes, who will also be an assessor, is under the Prince’s unit. I suggest you choose to go with the Commander, they are more open minded.”

Tom sighed, “You seem confident that I will make it through, Sir Isaac.”

“I will succeed, my Prince, that is without a doubt in my mind, if the Commander doesn’t choose you then I will. This has to work. . . for Eivengard.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Tom returned to his people later that night to make the announcement that he would be going to infiltrate Eltham in order to shift their perspectives with regard to Eivengard and, in essence, encourage them to fight against Baron Mordo. His folks did not seem to be too impressed. They voiced their disdain of their Prince, who had positioned himself on top of a tree stump, preventing Tom from having an opportunity to speak.

“QUIET!” Fury shouted as the people were getting out of hand, “Let his majesty speak!”

“Thank you, General.” Tom let out a breath and swept his eyes across the gathering of people before continuing, “I know you’re scared and I will not lie to you and say I’m not—because I am terrified. Nobody could have possibly been ready for this. I am not prepared for this. However, this. This is the only safest option we’ve got—not when demons have been released to roam these lands. It is not safe for you to be out there.”

Andrew, who was one of the persons who were unable to accept Tom's plan, glanced at his brother with a very disheartened expression on his face.

“I am not abandoning you,” Tom addressed the crowd but took a long glance towards Andrew, “I am doing this so that we could reclaim our home. I will be leaving at dawn for my enlistment, I will be assessed and if I deem successful, I will become an Eltham Knight. The only favour I ask of you is to keep me updated on what is going on so that I might perhaps sway King Dorian's mind.”

Andrew got up from where he was sitting and started walking away because he was upset, even enraged, over the impulsive choices that his brother had made. Tom's attempts to get his attention were completely disregarded by him..

“Andrew! Andrew, listen to me!” Tom screamed in the direction of his younger brother, “Andrew! You will listen to the Crown Prince!”

Andrew halted and turned around, “Andrew came to a complete stop and spun around, asking, "What? What more do you think I should know? You have successfully proven your argument, brother; congrats; you are deserving of the throne.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Tom wrinkled his brows in apparent irritation at Andrew's snide tone, which caused him to feel somewhat insulted.

Andrew scoffed, “You always leave me behind, Tom. Always three steps ahead. I'll wager one thousand sterlings that you decided this on a whim.”

"Oh, for the sake of Hecate! If you only let me finish!" Tom pressed the tip of his index finger to the bridge of his nose and said, "I want you to join me."

Andrew's face softened, “What? A-Are you serious?”

“Oh brother,” Tom slowly approached Andrew, “Do I look like I’m joking? Congratulations, you’re enlisted to become an Eltham Knight. Let’s do our worst.”

The Next Day - Tom

“You boys have everything you need?” Fury asked the two Princes while they tied the laces of their boots, “Wit? Courage? That Sceptre?”

“I think so.” Tom replied, “What about you little brother?”

“Overflowing, can’t wait to show these Eltham knights the real deal.” Andrew chuckled to himself in a self-satisfied manner as he polished his bow.

“I think that you’re forgetting, Prince Andrew, that you are not there to show off. You are there to hold back and pretend you’re a bit incompetent.” Fury reminded Andrew, in which the lad scowled.

“That’s probably the nicest thing you have said to me, General.” Andrew paused, “I’ll hold back about 20 percent.”

“40 percent.”

“30 percent. Take it or leave it.” Andrew flashed Fury a grin, which was met with a head shake from Fury. Tom couldn't refrain from laughing at the enthusiasm of his brother so early in the morning.

“Me and the men will look forward to your reports, Your Highness. I’ll make sure to keep our people safe.”

“We know you will General,” Tom stood up and chose a sword that was laid out in front but instead, he chose two daggers, “Are you ready to risk your life little brother?”

“Ready to kick some Elthamese ass.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The Evening Before - Stephen

Stephen stormed into the great hall where his father was surrounded by members of the court, including the father of Christine, who Stephen avoided making eye contact with. During the conversation between Marshal Wong and King Dorian, King Dorian looked away from the war table at which the locations of the Yelenite army movements was being discussed when he heard the sound of Stephen barging into the hall.

"Father, may we speak in private?" Stephen asked while still feeling a little out of breath from the sprint he had to take to get there from the main entrance.

The other members of the court turned their attention to King Dorian and waited for his response, "Very well. You have five minutes." Dorian motioned for the men to go, and every one of them, including Wong, made a beeline for the exit.

"Marshal Wong, you can stay." Stephen spoke to Wong, who then turned to the King for authorization. The King showed his agreement with Stephen's statement by nodding, but he remained silent until the very last member of the court had left the hall.

"Speak to me, my son."

"The mercenary has informed me of some horrific news, as well as an assault that took place on the fringes of Dunwich Forest,"

When the subject of an assault was brought up, Dorian's brows wrinkled, and he said, "What kind of attack?"

"People being ripped to ribbons by a beast that cannot be identified. It was referred to as a Daeva by the Mercenary." Stephen began his statement and looked at Wong, who was far more knowledgeable than he was about supernatural beings and creatures, and as soon as he saw the grim expression on Wong's face, Stephen knew without a doubt that the news wasn't a pack of lies.

“A Daeva?” King Dorian’s face shifted to scepticism, “A demon from hell?”

“Yes.”

“Have you seen one for yourself?” His father asked.

“No.”

“Then until you face one yourself, there is no reason for me to believe that it’s real.” King Dorian laughed at his son’s ridiculous claims.

“Do you believe in our elder gods Gaea and Oshtur's father?” Stephen asked once more.

“Yes of course.”

"Have you seen them with your own eyes?" Stephen immediately responded with the identical questions that his father had asked him just a few seconds before. When King Dorian saw that his son had outwitted him, the grin that had been on his face vanished, his face hardening, “You want to believe in Gods, father, then don’t deny the existence of their wicked counterparts.”

“I think what your father meant is, we need to gather more evidence that they do roam these lands.” Wong addressed Stephen before the King snaps, “Isn’t that right? Your Majesty?”

King Dorian cleared his throat with eyes that’s burning through Stephen, “Yes, that is exactly what I was trying to say.”

Stephen scoffed, “Then prevent (Y/N) from leaving this place—I don’t care if you believe me or not. Demon or no demon, I refuse to put her in harm’s way. I won’t be able to live with myself.” Stephen held his father’s gaze with just as much intensity. King Dorian paid close attention to Stephen's body language and facial emotions, and he concluded that Stephen was highly determined to stick to his word.

“Fine,” King Dorian seethed, “But I shall give you the assignment on catching a Daeva. Prove me wrong.”

“Consider it done.” Stephen spun around to exit the vast hall, and as he opened the door, the members of the court came tumbling in on top of one other.

“You imbeciles!” King Dorian shouted, “You dare eavesdrop on me and my son’s conversation?!”

Stephen walked over the fallen dukes, earls, and viscounts as they were forced to face the wrath of his father. He left while shaking his head and walking away. He couldn't wait to get into a good, warm bath and maybe conduct some reading on how to capture a Daeva in the north wing of the palace.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You were awakened when someone tenderly stroked your face, which caused you to stir in your slumber and slowly acquire consciousness. As you got more awake, the image of your mother, Eleine, became more distinct. You suddenly sprang up with a gasp and asked, "Mother?"

“Long time no see, my sweet.” She said, after hearing her voice you instantly wrapped your arms around her, inhaling the familiar scent that you so longed for, “We thought we could surprise you.”

“I missed you too.” You released a sigh of relief and nestled your cheek against her chest while she hugged your head, “Is Father here as well?” You asked.

Eleine shook her head, “No, he had to attend to his duties back home, it’s just me and James. He’s been dying to see you.”

You laughed at the thought of James being impatient, “Well I better get ready for the journey then.”

Eleine held your arm, stopping you from getting out of bed. She tried her best to hide a solemn expression but you knew your mother, even though you haven’t seen her for a year, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. . . I just missed you—anyway, go prepare. Me and Jamie will be waiting for you downstairs.” Eleine smiled and called in your ladies-in-waiting that was waiting just outside the door.

They started your regular routine in the morning, and when they came to the point when they were picking your outfit, you gazed at yourself in the mirror looking sideways, and just as the Physician had indicated, it would be your fourth month. You were startled when you felt a kick, and you said, "Oh my heavens!"

“Princess! Are you alright?” A hasty exit was made by Asha from your walk-in robe.

"Asha, don't worry about me," You gave a radiant grin and reached for your friend's hand so they could feel your bump. "You can feel it, my child is wide awake."

Asha's expression softened as she waited for the baby to kick, and when it did, she exhaled quietly and said, "So it is." Asha leant down to the level of your tummy and said, "Hey future little prince or princess, don't get too active in there; save it for your birthday."

You smiled and said, "Don't be concerned, he's a good boy."

"A boy? How are you able to tell?" After straightening up, Asha walked up to the younger women and grabbed the dress off of one of them. She then assisted you in putting it on.

"I can't say for sure, but I have a strong intuition about it." You gave a shrug and grabbed onto Asha's shoulders with both hands as you stepped into the dress.

To which she said, "Well, I think you're going to have a wonderful daughter," Asha presented her viewpoint and then carefully pulled the corset in tighter behind you, “How’s that? Not too tight? Can you still breathe?”

You inhaled deeply and then gave a definitive nod.

"When are you going to let everyone know that you're expecting?" Asha stopped what she was doing and looked at your body in the mirror before commenting, "It's beginning to become more visible."

"Asha, I'm afraid I don't know. I simply can't get the feeling that the King and Queen are going to be upset about this."

After snorting unintentionally, Asha quickly covered her lips and apologised to the princess, saying, "My apologies, I just don’t think they would feel that way at all.”

“Would you like to leave your hair down your highness?” Keiko asked.

“Yes, I would like to leave my hair down, thank you.” You gave a kind grin before turning to Asha and said, "It's alright Asha, I told you to abandon your formality when it's only me around."

“Sorry, it’s a force of habit.” Asha chuckled and clasped the lock your mother gave you, “There, all set. Queen Eleine and Prince James will be waiting for you at the dining hall.”

“Great! I’ll go ahead, no need for you to escort me.” You grabbed the skirt of your dress and hurried towards the dining hall. You were greeted by servants and members of the court that were in the palace the whole way to the dining hall, and when you finally arrived at the entrance, your heart began to race.

The door was opened for you by the security personnel, and Jamie immediately sprang up from his seat to give you a big embrace and say, "I am so delighted to see you." While he was doing this, he lifted you off the ground ever-so-slightly.

“I am so happy to see you too.” You replied, squeezing him with your arms as tightly as you could, “Let’s eat, I’m famished—we can catch up afterwards.”

“Of course,” James held your hand and led you to your seat. You were so happy that you didn’t even notice Stephen’s presence in the room.

“Your Royal Highnesses, The King and Queen will be five minutes late.” The herald announced after politely walking in. Now the room consisted of you, Stephen, James and your mother.

“So when are we leaving for Xarean?” You twisted your body slightly towards James.

“You aren’t.” Stephen answered before James could and the Xarean Prince turned to Stephen with a puzzled look on his face.

“What do you mean she isn’t? We came all the way here to collect her. She will be coming with us.” James argued, his words final.

Stephen shook his head, “No. She isn’t.”

“The King has allowed me to go. You can’t stop me from going with my family.” You answered this time, placing your hand over James to prevent him from talking.

“And my father can take his words back.”

“What’s your reason? Has my sister not suffered enough from your actions?” James tilted his head, attention was now fully locked into Stephen. When he had heard about what happened, James was livid and yet he couldn’t do anything.

“It’s too dangerous to travel, right now. There have been multiple attacks from an unidentified creature.” Stephen informed you of the news in which your brother knew of because it started in Xareann.

“Really? Then can you justify why my sister almost died for you inside these walls the night you betrayed her?” James got up from his seat, his voice thick with displeasure.

“Why don't you sit down, Prince James, and show some respect inside my home?”

“I’ll show you mine when you show me yours,” James quips, and then adds, “Prince Stephen.” but he sounds anything but polite. You weren’t sure of what to do, Stephen knows how protective James could be.

To stop things from escalating, you pipe up and say, “James, he’s already being punished for his choices.”

It’s as if your brother couldn’t hear you and points at Stephen with a jutting finger, “My little sister isn’t your property!”

“James, sit back down.” Queen Eleine’s gentle voice commanded and pulled on her son’s tunic.

Stephen shrugs and glances at you, “She never was but last time I checked the law says she now resides here.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass.”

“Better a smart-ass than a dumb-ass.” Stephen retorted. Oh that was a bad thing to say. Jame’s expressions go from angry to furious.

“(Y/N), grab your things. We’re leaving whether he likes it or not.” James tugged you by the wrist and you stood up with him leading you towards the door.

“She will not take one step out of this palace.” Stephen wasn’t going to allow this to happen and went after the both of you.

James' face was scrunched up in anger and drew his sword and pointed it towards Stephen’s throat, “Oh yeah? Why don’t you try and get through me first if you’re so tough now.”

The palace guards also drew their swords but Stephen raised his hand to prevent them from attacking. You swallowed thickly, this was getting out of hand, “Jamie, please don’t.”

Stephen wouldn't have a chance against James since James was the most ferocious warrior in your kingdom and he was personally taught by your father when he was just eight years old. He was specifically groomed by your father to become a weapon and to excel in all aspects of battle expertise.

The space was big enough for the two of them to have a fight without anybody else being injured. Stephen removed his dark cloak, revealing a man dressed in a black tunic and long, tight-fitting tan trousers. He took the long sword out of its sheath and carefully withdrew it from its sheath on his belt. The blade created a hissing whisper as it was withdrawn from the scabbard. Through it all, James maintained a steady focus on Stephen the whole time.

“Don’t hold back or I am going to break you.” James taunted Stephen.

"James, there is no need for this! Prince Stephen, please do not engage." Queen Eleine stood up, head turning between both men who acted like they're deaf.

James charged straight at Stephen. Right as he was about to approach him, he dived and twirled right before slashing downward with the sword. When Stephen blocked an attack with his sword, the blade let out a loud shriek as it came into contact with the metal, which caused sparks to shoot into the air. James was swift and swiped at the Eltham Prince with an uppercut, attempting to catch Stephen from stem all the way to the stern.

Stephen evaded the blade by stepping to the right just the proper amount, and it came within a whisker's width of missing his face.

Quickly, before James could counter with a follow-up, Stephen forcefully punched James in the solar plexus, which knocked the wind out of the Prince and stunned him for a short moment.

The fight had taken James and Stephen dangerously close to the table and Stephen had his back almost to the wall, despite his counter offensive. Your mother has taken you with her far away from the two men but didn't leave the room, you refused to.

Stephen had a choice to move right or left, behind or in front of James' body. Moving in front of the man exposed him to the possibility of being injured by the man's weapons, but it also allowed him to bring his own into play. Moving behind James would put his own back to the man. Stephen quickly dodged to the left as the sword came flying down at him.

As he moved, his left hand came up, and his blade slashed across close to James' neck. Stephen had no additional chance to study his strike since James' sword was flying by his nose at the time. Metal reverberated off metal, and there was no trace of blood elsewhere on his body. It was only his natural intuition that had cautioned him to take a step back. The blade of the sword was already so close to his face that it was only separated from it by the breadth of one finger.

The quick attack had opened Stephen up for another attack and James obliged him after dropping his sword, putting a simple sidekick into the Prince’s stomach, doubling him over. James followed that up with a quick rising uppercut.

Stephen then extended his right hand, and his fist smashed itself onto James' throat. James had taken worse, but the blow made his throat close. Gagging, he felt his grip on the hilt of his sword, loosen. James just about managed to tuck his chin in this time, but Stephen struck him once more. It happened once, then twice: Stephen's fist raked over his jaw.

After James took a step back, Stephen pounded him with sharp punches to push his advantage and finish the fight. They weren’t terribly powerful hits, but the flurry of punches kept him off balance, forcing him to retreat. Letting go of his sword James managed to grapple Stephen. He encircled Stephen's right arm with his left arm, trapping the man's elbow against his side in the process.

"How about I break something of yours for breaking my sister's heart?" James seethed at Stephen's ear as the latter groaned and spat, slamming his weight against James in an effort to overpower him and take control of the grapple.

You were aware that this manoeuvre would result in Stephen breaking his arm if James was successful in lifting him up, so you yelled, "James, stop it!" You were able to free yourself from your mother's grasp, and you headed straight for the two guys.

"(Y/N)! Get back here!" Queen Eleine yelled.

"James I said stop!!" You repeated it, but your brother merely responded by increasing his pressure on Stephen, "James, I'm carrying his child inside me! Let him go!"

Even though Stephen was aware of it, his eyes opened in surprise at the same moment as Jamie's, who, upon hearing the news, relaxed his grip on Stephen. Queen Eleine mumbled something under her breath as she tried to process the information that had just been shared.

"What is going on here?!" Dorian spoke not too long after he and his wife entered the room. When King Dorian saw the damage, his face immediately turned a bright shade of crimson.

James let Stephen go and then picked up Stephen's sword from where it had fallen. He did not seem to be afraid of Dorian and approached the King while returning his weapon to its scabbard. "Congratulations, your highness, you're going to be a grandfather," he said as he stood face to face with the elder man.

The colour left Dorian's cheeks, while his wife displayed the same expression as your mother did, "Stephen. Is this true?"

Stephen cast a quick look in your direction as you closed your eyes, a tear rolling down your face, "Yes. He speaks the truth."

The tension on King Dorian's face caused him to scrunch up his face and pinch the bridge of his nose; he was certain that he was beginning to get a migraine at this point. "You!" Dorian addressed the herald.

"Yes? Your Highness," he reported in front of the King.

"Get the messenger to bring in Lady Lazarescu—have her prepare the Royal wedding in a week." The King ordered and the herald went forth to find the palace messenger, "Princess (Y/N), Prince Stephen. Head up to my office, I need a word with both of you."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You and Stephen sat in complete silence in front of the King, attempting to avoid making eye contact with him. You were starting to feel the tension build up inside of you and prayed that he would just talk now. After a few seconds, there was a loud knocking sound coming from the door, and there was Commander Barnes and Captain Isaac.

"Come in." The frigid silence was broken by King Dorian, and then four men entered the room.

"Your Highness," The men said in unison and bowed their heads to Dorian.

"At ease." During his address to the knights, King Dorian stated, "There has been an alarming rate of reported attacks within Eltham and Xarean, and in the light of my son's assassination attempt, I ordered the leaders of the Royal Knights to recruit more men and women—they hand-pick the fiercest warrior they could find to be your wardens."

King Dorian made a gesture for Commander Barnes to step forwards and present Stephen's warden. "My Prince, this is Lieutenant Andrew Garfield. He is a superb marksman and has shown exceptional proficiency in stealth and hand-to-hand combat,"

Andrew leaned in against Ben and whispered "And impressive reflexes."

"In addition to that, he has remarkable reflexes." Ben was added, which prompted Stephen to make a scowling face since it was unnecessary information.

"It is a pleasure to be of service to you, Prince Stephen," Andrew lowered his head respectfully, acting every bit the part of a classic knight.

"I look forward to working with you in the future." Stephen provided a response.

King Dorian then gestured for Captain Isaac to introduce his new Lieutenant, "Your highness, Princess, I would like to introduce you to your personal guard, Lieutenant Thomas Hiddleston. He scored highest in swordsmanship. . . ."

As soon as you looked up, his eyes clicked onto yours and whatever Captain Isaac was saying all faded to grey. You feel as if your air is being sucked out of your body and everything stops moving for a split second. It is as if you are staring at him through a telescope that is zoomed all the way in and the world is stopping for that little moment.

From Tom's perspective, the instant you turned your face towards the light, everything came to a standstill. The beat of his heart, the pump of his lungs, the march of time. The effect of seeing you again had such a profound influence on him that he was shocked that his fingers could keep playing without pausing. Tom's eyes were wandering aimlessly, adrift and untethered in the shimmering lagoon that was your steady, even gaze. Your eyes were enormous and a magnificent shade of green. It had the same bright shade of green as trees in dreams have. It had the same shade of green that the ocean would have if the ocean were flawless.

Stephen noticed this exchange and saw how you appear to shine like a beacon. Stephen had always known you were beautiful—But how had he always known? Has there been a moment he has realised it?— But at this moment, the sight of your long lashes fluttering to brush your cheeks, followed by your eyes opening completely in Tom's direction as your tiny, round lips contracted into an instant and knowing smile— struck him like a brutal blow. You couldn't turn away from the eyes that held you. Eyes as deep as the blue sea, yet there was something that sparked with warmth, that kept those eyes from being cold. From the golden silk flowers braided into your black hair to the ribbons and beads on your golden gown, you exude an aura of fire, or more specifically, heat and light.

"Have you met each other?" King Dorian broke the trance between the three of you.

You slowly broke away your gaze from Tom towards King Dorian, "No, my King." A lie slipped from your lips without a thought.

"But I have, you’re the man from yesterday." Stephen squinted his eyes and Tom's azure orbs followed his gaze and moved to Stephen.

"Indeed so. My deepest apologies for not recognizing you, my Prince." Tom offered his apologies.

"Where are you from? Why did you enlist yourself?" Stephen disregarded the latter's apologies and instead focused on satisfying his own natural curiosity. Andrew cast a quick look in the direction of his brother while attempting to conceal his expression. They were instructed to behave as if they were strangers to one another.

"Stephen, we are not here to interrogate." Dorian butted in before Tom could open his mouth to answer, "From this point forward, you shall not leave the Palace without your Lieutenants, and if they are to be dismissed or require a break, they will be replaced in the time they are gone."

Stephen objected, saying, "This is ludicrous. You stated we're hiring men and women; thus, why would you offer (Y/N) a man? What about Natasha? Or Yelena?"

You gave Stephen a grimace as you slowly moved your head in his direction as he was working himself up.

"They are assassins; therefore, they have more important responsibilities. Stephen, do you have any issues with the choices that the Captain has made?" King Dorian questioned, "Like I said, they were picked because they demonstrated great talents, nothing more, and nothing less."

Oscar started to make a suggestion, "Maybe I could arrange a lady—" but Dorian stopped him off mid-sentence.

"No need for that, Captain. They will be starting today.”

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Two years ago - Stephen’s Flashback.

“Wait.” Just behind you, his heavy footsteps came to a rest. "There are things for us to talk about."

Things. The sound of the word was never before so tedious. You didn't even bother to turn around. "Is that so?"

"New arrangements have been made."

“Arrangements?” Your stomach began to churn as you turned, “You are referring to my new warden, right?”

“You disobeyed me this morning. I told you not to go towards the north wing.”

Shit. You seem to have forgotten that you are constantly being monitored . . . that didn’t work for you. Didn’t work for you at all. You had plans for today evening, one of which included making a brief excursion to the off-limits higher levels, and you were determined not to let some self-important jerk get in your way. If you were correct and the North Wing Tower did in fact possess some kind of magic, then exploring there on your own was the only way to go.

While you were deliberating over a response, you took your time to carefully remove your boots' laces and place them next to the entrance of your restroom. Bringing your hair to the top of your head and tying it back. Take off the covering from the dressing that is on your arm. He was really patient as he waited for you to generate an answer. Damn him. After trying every possible course of action, you made the decision to turn back. You may be able to... dissuade him against doing it. Surely he didn't want his brand-new fiancee to spend absurd amounts of time with another man after you're engaged? You weren't under any illusions about his feelings for you; nonetheless, men of the Church had a tendency to be territorial of the things they claim to own.

“Go ahead, then.” You displayed a lovely grin. “Bring him in. For your sake, he'd best be attractive.”

His eyes became stern, and he moved past you in order to turn off the water tap.

"Why would it be important for him to look attractive?" Stephen questioned, at which point you made your way to the bedroom, flopped down on the mattress, and turned over onto your stomach before placing a pillow under your chin. You fluttered your lashes in his direction.

"Well, it seems like we are going to be spending a significant amount of time together. . . .unchaperoned."

He tightened his jaw so tightly that it seemed as if it was about to break in two, “He is your chaperone.”

“Mhm, Mhm,” You waved a hand. “Do proceed.”

"He goes by the name of Peter. He's seventeen—”

“Oooh.” You waggled my brows, smirking. "Only a year younger than me?"

"He's more than competent in every way—"

"I don’t mind younger men." You chose to disregard his reddening visage and instead attentively tapped your lip, “Easier to train that way.”

“—and in terms of his potential, he shows a tremendous deal of promise—”

“Perhaps I’ll give him his first kiss,” You mused, with the sole intention of enraging him. “No, I’ll do him one better—I’ll give him his first devil’s tango.”

The normally articulate Prince was unable to finish his sentence, eyes boggling.

“Wh—what did you just say?” Does he have problems with his hearing? It reached a point where it was concerning.

"Oh, Prince,no need to act so prim and proper," You sprang up and crossed the room with your eyes fixed on the notebook that was inside one of his pockets before grabbing it away from him. It was a journal that was full of love notes written for none other than Lady Christine Palmer. You laughed ironically at the situation. It is hardly surprising that he despised you.

“‘February twelfth—God took extra care in shaping Christine’” His pupils ballooned out of all proportion as he made a mad dash for the journal. You ducked—cackling as you did so, and dashed into the restroom, where you locked the door behind you. He beat his hands on the wood repeatedly.

“Give that back!!”

You cracked a wry smile and went on to read: "'I wish to gaze upon her face again. There cannot be anything more stunning than her grin, with the possible exception of her eyes. Or her laugh. Or her lips.’ Whoa, Prince Stephen. Is it not blasphemous to fantasise about a woman's lips? If King Dorian were here, what would our dear King Dorian say?”

“Open. This. Door.” When he hammered on the wood, it flexed. “Right now!”

“However, I worry that I'm acting in a self-centred manner. Christine has made it quite plain to me that my place is in my Kingdom.’”

“OPEN THE DOOR—”

“‘Her selflessness is admirable, but I just cannot agree with her. To put it bluntly, any solution that drives a wedge between us is no solution at all.’”

“I’M WARNING YOU—”

“Oooooh You’re warning me? What are you going to do? Break down the door?” There was an increase in the volume of your laughter. "Go ahead and do it. I dare you."

You refocused on the entry you were reading and proceeded to read the rest of his diary, "I can't help but think about her sometimes. The days and nights seem to run together and I can't seem to get my mind away from remembering her. This disrupts my training. I have lost all my appetite. I have a problem falling asleep. 'She is the only one.' I swear to God, this is becoming bleak. Certainly romantic, but yet a little too exaggerated for my liking.—”

The wooden door was shattered by the impact of a big object. Repeated blows from your enraged fiance's arm crashed through, eventually creating a big opening through which his dazzling red face could be seen. Before he could reach your neck, you let out a guffaw and threw the notebook through the splinters. His nose took the impact, and the book slipped across the floor. You'd think he would have cursed if he weren't so annoyingly moral. He unlocked it by stretching an arm through it, then scurried inside to grab the notebook.

“Take it.” You almost fractured a rib from laughing so hard you couldn't breathe, "I can't take any more reading. It's truly rather heartfelt. If it were possible, her letters are probably, significantly worse. He glared at you and moved in closer.” He snarled and advanced on you.

“You read my private...my own...!”

"How else could I get to know you?" You asked in a sweet tone while circling around the tub. His nostrils expanded, making him appear more likely to breathe fire than anybody else you've ever met. Indeed, you had met several people who resembled dragons.

“You—you—” Apparently, he was at a loss for words. Your anticipation of the inevitable caused me to brace myself. "You witch!"

The worst thing that a decent person like your fiancée could think of. In other words, a witch. You were obviously grinning at that point.

“See? You've spent a lot of one-on-one time with me, and now you really know me,” You gave him a knowing wink as you danced around the tub together, “You're smarter than you seem,”

He stared you down, his chest rising and falling with each breath. He kept staring blankly for a few more seconds before finally closing them. His vision suddenly sharpened, and his hold on the diary became so tight that it almost tore in two. Angry, he turned on his heel and marched back into the bedroom.

“Expect Peter any second now. He'll take care of the door.”

“Wait—what?” You quickly shut down your laughing and followed him, avoiding the splinters in the wood, “You still want to leave me with a guard? I will corrupt him!” You shouted an empty threat. He reached for his coat and buried his arms within.

“I told you,” he snarled. “You broke trust. There's a limit to how much I can keep an eye on you. If I need anything done, Peter will take care of it," He flung open the door to the hall and called out, "Peter!"

A young knight popped his head a few seconds later. His dark, wavy hair was falling in his eyes. In spite of his scrawny build, he was strikingly attractive, his flawless complexion and long, curling eyelashes giving him an almost androgynous appearance.

“Yes, Your highness?”

“You’re on guard duty now.” When he stared back at you, your irritated fiance's eyes were as sharp as knives. “Keep an eye on her and don't let her go.” There was no counterargument to his statements. You may have felt bad for the kid if he hadn't ruined your plans for the evening.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t listen to a word she says, and make sure she stays put.”

Peter and you stood there silently watching him shut the door. Right. No problem here. To say you were flexible would be an understatement. You rolled over on the bed and sighed dramatically, "This should be great."

Peter immediately straightened up at your words. " I'm sorry, Princess, I can't speak with you."

This caused you to snort. "If you're not permitted to speak, this will become really boring."

“Well, I’m not.”

Charming. There was utter silence between you. You pounded the bedposts with your kicking feet. He avoided glancing in your direction.

You waited for quite some time before finally asking, "Is there anything to do here?"

His mouth thinned. “Please, stop talking.”

“Maybe a library?”

“Stop talking!”

"It's been a while since I've been outdoors, and I really miss it. Some sunlight and open air," You nodded at his flawless complexion and said, "You may want to wear a hat, however."

“As if I'd take you outdoors,” he sneered. “I’m not stupid, you know.”

You perked up eagerly, "I am not, either. Believe me, I recognize that there is no way I can outwit you. To put it bluntly, you're uh. . . too tall. Your strong, powerful legs could easily outrun me."

Though he grimaced, you gave him an appealing grin. "Why don't you give me a tour of the North wing instead if you don't want to take me outside?" He shook his head, nevertheless.

"Prince Stephen warned me that you're cunning," he said.

"It's not really tricky to ask for a tour, Peter—"

“No,” he said firmly. “We’re not going anywhere.”

Your grin vanished and just began humming a song until—

“No humming either.”

You ignored him, “Try to see whether he can manage this ass, and I probably caused him a panic attack. Apologies if I gave you an erection; you must’ve thought I was telekinetic—”

“Stop!” His complexion was so ablaze in crimson that it resembled that of your fiancée. "What exactly are you up to? That—really that's inappropriate!”

"Of course, it is. It's a song from a tavern!"

"You've gone to a bar?" he asked, flabbergasted. "But you're a lady, and a Princess!"

It required every ounce of your strength to keep from giving a smirk or rolling your eyes. Whoever it was who educated these men about women was horribly out of touch with what really happens in the world. It was almost as if they'd never had any interaction with a female before. A genuine woman, as opposed to Christine's implausible idealised self.

You owed this wretched young lad a lesson.

"Peter, there are a lot of ladies at pubs. We are not what you may believe us to be. We are capable of doing all that you are, and maybe even better. You should realise that there is a whole other world outside of your religion. If you were interested, I could show you."

His features became more ruddy, despite the fact that he had just become more serious. “No. No more chatting. Do not continue to hum. No more singing. Just—just stop being yourself for a bit, eh?

You stated it with all seriousness, "I can't make any guarantees. . . But if you gave me a tour . . ."

"Not happening."

Fine.

“I can't bear it, just one night me,” You bellowed, “Clink the glass and give me a sip. Tell me what’s your kink and give me your di—”

"STOP, STOP RIGHT NOW." Peter's cheeks began to flame again as he waved his hands about. "I'll take you on a tour, but you have to promise to quit singing about... that!"

You got to your feet, brought both of your hands together, and smiled broadly.

Voilà.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Next Chapter (Preview)

After travelling for a few hours to Autumn shore, you no longer need to depend on your imagination to understand what Tom had meant when he stated that you would be riding with him.

There wasn't much room to move between the two of you. Although you sat up straight and tried your best to ignore the sensation of Tom's arm being wrapped around your waist, the pace was challenging. Even though it wasn't a full gallop, the rigid stance rapidly became difficult and painful since you weren't accustomed to the way a horse moved this slow. With each passing hour, you inched closer to Tom until eventually, your back was plastered against his chest, and your hips were cradled by his thighs. At some point, the hood of your cloak had slipped off your head, and you chose to go about without it, in part because you were curious to feel the breeze on your face.

And in part due to the fact that each time Tom bent down to talk to you, you were able to feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek. You'd be correct. This was completely unsuitable for a woman who was engaged to be married. Or, at least the way it felt to be held by him felt inappropriate for you.

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viviennes-tears · 10 months

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It’s all about her (Tom Hiddleston, Chris Evans, Sebastian Stan & X reader one shot)

18+ blog: It is YOUR responsibility, as a reader, to think about the content that you consume at your own discretion.

A/N: I apologise profusely for the very long delay as of late. Things don't always go as planned as work and life do tend to keep you busy at times, but hopefully things will pick up again. Yet thank you for everyone waiting so patiently for me to write their prompts. Speaking of prompts, they will be temporarily closing on June 25th 2023.

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one and the slight changes I made to the prompt x

Prompt request by Bellamagic22 on A03: Hope im not too late to prompt! Been in anticipation for months!

Prompt: Tom and reader GF is taking a relaxing bath. They start kissing as she's stroking him and he's fingering her. Sebastian Stan and Chris interrupt because Tom was suppose to meet them. They yank Tom and GF out of the bath and touch and kiss their bodys (Evans X Tom Sebastian X GF) Chris and Sebastian strip off their wet cloths and throw Tom and GF on the bed and take turns screwing their brains out.

Summary: Tom and his girlfriend find themselves enjoying some alone time together, while Tom was meant to meet up with Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan for coffee. What his girlfriend didn’t expect was that Chris and Sebastian would join them or for her to enjoy it either.

Warnings: Fingering, hand job, sex, masturbation, strong language, mentions of past m/m/m relationship, f/m relationship, nudity, dirty talk and strip tease

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"Darling, I'm home!" Tom called cheerily, as he stepped in through the front door and he set down a brown paper bag of baked goods on the side table beside the door, but you hadn't replied to him. "Darling?!" He calls again, as he shuts the door behind him. Yet you still didn't reply even though he waited a little longer this time, as he took off his jacket and hung it up on the hooks.

However seeing as it was twice now that you hadn't replied to him his eyebrows frown. He could have sworn you were still at home, because you never said you were going anywhere while he went out getting you both breakfast. Albeit he suddenly heard a thump coming from upstairs which imminently caught his attention so he sprinted up to check on you. His heart was racing out of fear that you might be hurt. Although as soon as he got upstairs he noticed the bathroom door was open whilst all the other doors were closed. He knew that's where you must be. He just hoped you were alright.

"Darling, are you alright?!" He calls once more, as he heads towards the bathroom. Yet again you failed to answer him which only worries him even more.

Tom soon pops his head around the opened bathroom door and yet to his surprise he finds you in a bubble bath with your AirPods in and your eyes closed. He ends up coming face to face with your face contoured in a look of pleasured expressions, along with soft moans escaping your lips as you masturbate in the bathtub. Clearly he's no longer worried about you after seeing you like this and you still haven't a clue that he's even home yet. Although he does spot the bottle of bubble bath on the floor, which he realises must have been what he heard from downstairs, and it gave him some more relief too. Of course he was enjoying the sight of you masturbating when he got over the initial shock when he saw you. Yet the longer he watched the closer he approached you with quiet footsteps, his breath slightly getting heavier, as well as him feeling himself getting excited just from watching you. He then quietly sat down on the edge of the bath tub just to get a closer look at you pleasuring yourself. Once he was confident that you were still too busy to notice his presence, he reached down into the water and a sly smirk spread across his lips, then he processed to lightly caress your leg.

You imminently stopped pleasuring yourself and jumped a bit, as your eyes flew open after you felt something that wasn't there before, and you see Tom trying to look innocent with his hands up in surrender. "Christ, Tom!" You say, as you removed your AirPods due to him catching you off guard like that, but your reaction only caused him to laugh once the innocence was gone. "You ass!" You added with a slight chuckle escaping your lips and a playful eye roll to accompany it.

"Ehehe, I'm not even gone long and you can't keep your hands off yourself." Tom teases and sees a light pink hue to your cheeks.

"Shut up!" You say childishly and splashed water at him a little. "I was horny and you weren't here, okay?" You added with an embarrassed chuckle.

"Alright, I'll admit I've masturbated too when I've been away from you for extended periods." He says, as his own cheeks heat up slightly too after admitting that to you, yet he quickly clears his throat before he continues speaking. "What were you listening to anyway?" He asks curiously as he tries to turn the conversation back onto you.

You bite your bottom lip nervously as the light hue of your cheeks seemingly darkening now and you've suddenly gotten a little shy too. Tom always enjoyed the sight of you when you got flustered and your sudden shyness right now is a rarer sight to behold these days. At least compared to when you first started dating two years ago, but when the occasion aroused when your shyness returned that just reminded him how cute that part of you is. Which is exactly what was happening right now. He chuckled as he reached his hand to your face and then he softly caressed your cheek.

"You can tell me, love." He says softly whilst he continues to caress your cheek.

"IwaslisteningtoHigh-Rise." You say quickly. Yet he was barely able to catch your muffled and rushed words as they seemed to rush into one.

"What?" He asks with a soft chuckle, as he stops caressing your cheek and you see a slight confused glint in his eyes.

"I-I was listening to High-Rise." You say more slowly and your flustered cheeks remain.

A quick flash of surprise crosses his face and then it is replaced by one of a sly smirk accompanied by a cheeky wink. Of course he knows how much you love the sound of his voice. Actually there have been times where you had asked him to read to you for that very same reason. Also there's been times when he would tease you and purposely say things in a certain way just so he could tease you simply by the sound of his voice.

"My voice always has turned you on, hasn't it, darling?" Tom says, practically purring.

Words seemingly failing you for a moment, not that you needed to anyway. Instead he lent forwards with his eyes closed, capturing your lips with his own in a tender yet soft kiss. It took you a few seconds longer than expected for you to react, your own eyes closing and for you to kiss him back. Both of you getting lost in the moment, as he reaches back down into the water to caress your leg, the tenderness of the kiss heating up as it doesn't seem to be ending any time soon. Although it doesn't take you too much longer before you start to melt into the kiss and reach a hand up to the back of his neck. The tender kiss is also more passionate than before, the soft caress to your leg under the water, and you massaging the nape of his neck only adding to how you both felt in this moment.

"I do enjoy teasing you so." He purrs breathily once the kiss breaks.

"I know you do." You chuckle breathily.

As Tom stands up he winks at you again. Then he starts to slowly tease you as takes his clothes off. Unbuttoning his shirt firstly, albeit about half way down he slips the left sleeve down his shoulder, posing for you like some sort of clothing model, slowly revealing bits of skin for the camera. He proceeds to do the same with his other sleeve, slowly slipping it down off his shoulder, slipping both sides half way down his arms before posing again for you. It's almost hypnotic watching him strip for you.

Next Tom pulls his arms right out of the sleeves and seductively shimmies his shirt down his body instead of taking it off like normal. The way his hips roll as his shirt passes them causes your heart to skip a beat. You already knew that he was a good dancer ages ago, but it never ceases to impress you when he moves his hips like that. Once his skirt was just around one ankle he kicked it off to the side before he continued to move to the music in his head. He soon undos his jeans and his fingers wrap around the waistband as he makes eye contact with you, making sure you're watching, then he painfully and slowly reveals his pubic-bone to you as he pulls his jeans down. Although as you keep watching you realise he has chosen to go commando under his jeans. His hard on from watching you pleasure yourself mere moments ago mixed with teasing you like this is now on full display once his jeans are far gone past his thighs. Upon seeing how excited he'd gotten causes you to bite your bottom lip as you try to suppress a groan.

"You can be as vocal as you like, love." Tom says flirtatiously and takes his jeans off completely.

Tom then advances towards you in his naked form as you invite him to join you in the bath with a hand gesture. He climbs into the bath tub without hesitation and he sits down opposite you. His long legs spread out on either side of your own, making the space feel a little cramped, not that you minded one bit.

"That was quite the show." You chuckled as he winked at you again.

"You're welcome." He says, almost looking proud of himself for having chosen to do that.

You soon moved until you were kneeling in between his legs and then you lent forwards to kiss him once more. kissing deeper, longer and more passionate kisses than before, while your hands softly caress his thighs and his held onto your hips. Your right hand soon wandered up higher and higher on his thigh, before you wrapped it around his hardened length, making him groan into the kiss as he felt your hand around him. The kiss deepened further as you started to stroke up and down his hardened length under the water. Your strokes getting firmer and more confident with each passing second, although it didn't take long for Tom's own hand to wander down between your thighs. His fingers brushed against your core in perfect timing to one of your strokes, causing you both to part lips in gasp of pleasure at the feeling of that spark between the two of you.

However you both soon take advantage of each other's reactions, as you begin to stroke him firmer and faster, as his fingers devilled into your core. He firmly fingers you in perfect sync to your hand stroking him. The heat within your bellies rose as you both didn't stop giving the other pleasure. You and Tom started to breathe heavily the longer you pushed each other closer to the edge. Almost as if you were incompletion with each other, seeing who would lose control first.

"You're so good at this." Tom groans, yet he doesn't falter when you pick up the pace once more, in fact it only encourages him to do the same to you. The intensity builds stronger between you two.

"You're not doing too bad either." You teased breathily, causing him to playfully shake his head.

Not long after teasing each other more as you give one another pleasure you both reached your climaxes simultaneously. After calming down from your releases and the need for each other still raging strong, you both got out of the bath, trailing water to the bedroom once he pulled the plug out. Neither of you cared about the water, the urgency of needing each other was far more important, luckily neither of you slipped on the titled flooring on the way out of the bathroom either. Albeit as soon as you reached the bedroom Tom pulled you closer to him, holding onto your waist while your arms wrapped around his shoulders, lips crashed together in a needy and hungrily way.

After your lips parted he pulls away and puts his hand on the small of your back as he gently pushes you towards the bed. You allow him to do so without resisting, once beside the bed you get onto it like he wants you to. He's then quick to join you and his lips are back on yours before he kisses along your jawline and down your neck. You gasp as he kisses and nips at your neck, his hands caressing your bare sides softly as he continues to kiss and nip on your neck, while your own hands reach up to his biceps. His biceps flexed underneath your touch for a second.

As Tom began to kiss his way down your chest right down to your navel, and he softly caressed your naked body, causing goosebumps to form on your skin. He just knew what to do to make you feel good. The longer he takes the more excited you become, knowing that he will make sure you enjoy it just as much as he does.

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

"Is Tom with you?" Chris Evans asks, as soon as Sebastien Stan approaches him. He'd been waiting around for a while and he thought it was strange that Tom wasn't the first one waiting in the café for everyone. After all Tom is usually so punctual that he ends up being the first to arrive for meet ups.

"No...he's not here yet?" Sebastien says, as he sits down opposite Chris with a frown on his face and his voice filled with surprise.

"Not yet, no." Chris shrugs.

"That's not like, Hiddles." Sebastien chuckles.

Chris and Sebastien waited a few more minutes for Tom to show up before they ordered a coffee each and Sebastien tried calling him. To their surprise Tom doesn't pick up. They knew Tom hadn't forgotten as they had massaged each other the night before checking that their plans to meet up was still happening. Tom being the one who had actually asked the question in the first place. The pair of them kept trying for the next hour calling Tom and after a few tries they phoned you too hoping you knew where he was. What they found out was that you didn't pick up either. Seeing as neither of you answer their calls they only get more worried with every unanswered call.

Later Chris and Sebastien arrive at the house as it's been just over two hours since Tom was meant to meet them. Their unanswered phone calls only concerned them more about the pair of you. Luckily for them Sebastien had a spare key in case of emergencies and he uses it as their last option. They just had to check in to see if you were alright. Upon entering they hear groaning and the bed creaking upstairs. Both Sebastien and Chris looked at each other once they heard the sounds, Chris slyly smirked knowingly, as Sebastian licked his lips. Next they raced upstairs and barged into the master bedroom.

Tom suddenly stops mid thrust as he's balls deep inside you, your legs over his shoulders, his hands gripped tightly around your thighs. He proceeded to look around to see Sebastien and Chris standing in the doorway, still paused in mid thrust and his hands gripped tightly around your thighs. You noticed Tom doesn't appear to be unfazed by their sudden intrusion, on the other hand as you peer over into their direction they see embarrassment filling your features.

"Nice to know you're not dead." Sebastien shakes his head playfully, as Chris gives Tom a little wave with a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

"Fuck..." Tom says, as they begin to enter the room, you just stare in disbelief at them, unsure how to feel for certain beside the embarrassment.

"Language!" Chris jokingly says.

"You didn't show up as planned...it's all about her, isn't it?" Sebastien asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he begins to softly stroke Tom's back now that he is in reach. Tom shivered slightly from his touch as he kept hold of your thighs. You're still so quiet as they advance closer.

"She's my girlfriend after all. I can spend time with her too." Tom replies in his defense.

"We're not saying you can't, it's just good to know where you are." Chris says, as he softly strokes two fingers down Tom's arm.

"You know things have changed since we started dating." Tom said, as he pulled out of you and gently set you down on the bed.

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean that you can bail out on friends." Sebastian replied, as he caressed Tom's cheek.

"What the hell is going on?" You speak up, as you finally find your voice.

Tom sighs as the other two men look at him and wait for his reply. "Darling...there's something I never told you..." He trails off, as he bites his bottom lip nervously.

You look between the men and after a moment of shared looks you realise what Tom was trying to tell you. "You and them?" You asked with some uncertainty in your voice.

Tom nods yes slowly with puppy dog eyes.

"Don't worry doll, it's been a while." Sebastien only confirms your question more clearly and his suggestive wink that follows only adds to the fact.

"It's true...we only got together occasionally anyhow." Chris confessed with a slight innocence to his tone.

Somehow the next few seconds are in a quick blur. Sebastian and Chris seemingly take things into their own hands. Chris pulls Tom closer to him as he stands beside the bed, he kisses him deeply whilst holding Tom flush against him, Tom fingers brushing through Chris' hair. Sebastien looks at you up and down before he kneels on the bed in front of you. His hands reach out to softly caress your arms and then he leans in to kiss you. The kisses between both pairs heat up. Surprisingly you get caught up in the moment and end up kissing Sebastien back. A few moments pass before Sebastian swaps with Chris. Chris kissing you hungrily as his hands explored your body, while Sebastian does the same with Tom. One thing you wouldn't admit out loud though is that you thought Sebastian was the better kisser between him and Chris.

When Sebastian breaks the kiss with Tom he begins to strip off his clothes. The jiggling sound of his belt causes you to stop kissing Chris. It was like it made you realise the situation as you pulled away from Chris. You weren't sure how you'd gotten to this moment with these men. However Tom was quick to start kissing you when he saw the hesitation on your face. His familiar touch and kisses were helping as Sebastian finished undressing while Chris did the same. Once they were naked too they knelt behind each of you. Sebastian kneeling behind Tom while Chris knelt behind you. They touched you two as Tom lips kept yours busy and his hands gripping on your hips tightly.

Between the four of you you get into a comfortable place. kissing between each other as hands explored bodies. You seem to get more confident and less shy the more they pay attention to you in turn. Although your mind hadn't fully comprehended what was going on yet your body was reacting well to it all. The attention you were receiving really was something you hadn't experienced so greatly before, it was a little overwhelming to you, although you knew what was to come next. In that moment of thought you had never felt more relieved with the fact your birth control is an implant.

Before you knew it Sebastian had you laying down on your back as he kissed you deeply. He nudged your knees apart so as to accommodate himself between them. As he got closer you felt his erected cock prod against your pussy. You moaned into the kiss as you felt him prodding you which Sebastian took as a good sign. He then thrusted once quickly inside you right down to the hilt, his thrust made you break the kiss as you gasped in surprise at his sudden intrusion inside of you. Upon hearing your gasp Tom was quick to be by your side holding your hand as he softly whispers to you encouragements.

Sebastian gave you a couple of minutes to adjust before he began to roughly thrust in and out of you. He got into a good rhythm, one which you seemed to enjoy a lot, eventually Tom let go of your hand then returned to Chris. Chris by this point had gotten prepared. A bottle of lube at the ready now as he knew exactly where Tom kept it in his sock draw. Tom lay down on the bottom end of the bed as Chris applied a generous amount of lube to his hands before he began to prep Tom.

As things had been going at such a fast pace it only got blurrier as time went on. You found yourself going between the three men. Each of them pushes you to have orgasm after orgasm. They also took it in turns with each other too. Only they held back every time right until their last go with you. Each of them reaching their climaxes inside you, none of them giving you much time in between each other. Although after they reached their climaxes in turn you had never felt so full before, nor had your body shook so much either, and you could hear your heart pounding your ears by the end of it. It has been an intense and incredible experience. One you had never even thought you would ever do in your whole life, but you had. You had willingly partook in the passion between the four of you.

All of you lay on the bed in a mess of tangled up limps, heavy breathing with hot and sweaty bodies. You all had truly fucked each others brains out and tried yourselves out completely.

Tom Hiddleston Masterlist

@viviennes-tears

#it's all about her #tom hiddleston #chris evans #sebastian stan #one shot #prompt request #tom hiddleston fanfiction #viviennes-tears

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spidercom · 10 months

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ATTENTION EVERYONE !!! MY ASKS ARE OPEN AND HERES SOMETHINGS ILL BE POSTING OR WRITING FOR!

For the character x reader sadly I’m only doing M/N and characters I’ll allow the characters to be female but I probably won’t write for them without a request to.

I write for

Marvel

TMNT/ROTTMNT

Cleberties (Mainly for marvel bc I don’t rlly know Celebs in the dc universe and the tmnt/rottmnt verse as well.)

I will do nsfw but if the character you request for is under 18 then I will NOT write for them.

I will Most def make some fluff/sfw fics.

Mind that i write M/N X (INSERT MALE CHARACTER) females please dni bc I feel uncomfortable with females reading my stuff that’s specifically made for the pleasure for male people who can’t rlly find m/n x a male character so-(sorry if it makes little to no sense bc my eng isn’t rlly gud-)

Here’s some characters I will write nsfw/sfw for

MARVEL

M/N x male character below

STEVE ROGERS

BUCKY BARNES

SCOTT LANG

PETER QUILL

TONY STARK

SAM WILSON

CLINT BARTON

STEPHN STRANGE

THOR ODINSON

LOKI LAUFEYSON

VISON

BRUCE BANNER

MILES MORALES

MIGUEL O’HARA

PETER B PARKER

PETER PARKER(any ver of this character)

HOBART BROWN (spider punk)

PAVITR (Indian spider-man)

BRUCE WAYNE

CLARK KENT

HAL JORDAN (green lantern)

MARTIN MAN HUNTER (I fr forgot his actual name 😭)

TMNT/ROTTMNT

DONATELLO HAMATO

LEONARDO HAMATO

MICHEALANGELO HAMATO

RAPHEAL HAMATO

HAMATO YOSHI

OROKU SAKI

BE-BOP

ROCKSTEADY

CLEBS

CHRIS EVANS

CHRIS PRATT

CHRIS HEMSWORTH

SEBASTIAN STAN

ANOTHNY MACKIE

TOM HOLLAND

TOM HIDDLESTON

That’s it for right now! Bye shippers and lovers cya later!! Make sure to request for fics if ur interested!!!!!

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rav3n-pascal22 · 3 years

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Debating whether or not if I should make a multi character sex fic…well more like porn with a good plot around it 👀😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

#pedro pascal #dmc5 dante #karl heisenberg smut #kenny omega #indiana jones #jon moxley #nicolas brown x reader #neil newbon #tom elis #tom hiddleston #ardyn izunia #boyd holbrook

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whiskeyncoke-redux · 2 years

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Master List

**Be sure to check back often to see what’s new, as I will be updating frequently and as always... ENJOY!!**

(all links are below the cut)

* = smut

Any Actor x Reader

The Meeting

Sam Wilson

Just Once* - ft. Bucky Barnes

Make Me*

Partition* - ft. Bucky Barnes

No Heat*

A Little Fun*

Can’t Go Back

Steve Rogers

Something Different* - ft. Thor

A Permanent Arrangement* - ft. Bucky Barnes

All Tensed Up*

...And Baby Makes Three

The Last Kiss

The Mission (Previously Untitled)*

Motorcycle Lesson

Bucky Barnes

The Stakeout*

Keeping Secrets*

Pedro Pascal

Sunshine

Across the Room*

Have A Seat*

Ask Her

The Seat Filler

Dave York

Satisfy Me*

Din Djarin

Taron Egerton

The Stowaway

Joel Miller

Advisement*

The Blind Date*

Neighbors*

Mine*

Tom Hiddleston

Guilty Pleasure*

How Does This Look*

The Concert

Chris Evans

Crushed Velvet*

A Night Out

Dodgers vs. Red Sox*

Give In*

Don’t Tease Me*

What Happens Now?

Experimenting*

Experimenting: The Sequel*

Skincare With Chris

Backseat*

Together*

From Instagram to Elle

Childhood Bedroom*

Big News*

Anthony Mackie

Brown Skin*

The Man Next Door*

Sebastian Stan

Shared* ft. Henry Cavill & Chris Evans

Welcome Home*

Always the Bridesmaid*

Headcanons

Headcanons: Chris Evans, Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan

Sebastian Stan A-Z Headcanons*

Tom Hiddleston A-Z Headcanons*

Chris Evans A-Z Headcanons*

Pedro Pascal A-Z Headcanons*

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tom-whore-dleston · 2 years

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How would _______ react to you writing smut for their characters

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x fem!reader, Simu Liu x fem!reader, Tom Holland x fem!reader

Genre: smut-ish headcanon

*18+ only; please do not consume if you are younger than 18 years old*

Warnings: mention of smut (explicit and non explicit), implied smut, sexual tension, a lil bit of fluff, reactions vary between the three guys

*Please note that you are responsible for your own media consumption. If any of these warnings trigger you or make you uncomfortable, please do not read!*

Summary: You are dating one of Jordan’s Top 3 daddies and they find out you write smut for their Marvel characters.

Word Count: 1743

Notes: Thought I would let out some uncensored thoughts I had about my Top 3 finding out reader writes smut. I may be in the middle of midterm szn but that ain't gonna stop me from being my usual w word self 😂😂Thank you to the lovely and magical @magicxc for beta reading! I was literally brainfarting over simple things but I am grateful for your insight 🥰😘 also can we talk real quick about how gd fine these men look lol they really do be my muses :') i forgot to watermark my collage so don't steal or I'll cry

Tom Hiddleston

Tom finding the smut you have written about Loki was a total accident. While your laptop was getting repaired, you were forced to use Tom’s over the next few days. During that time, you casually browsed Tumblr and other websites alike. You oftentimes forgot that Tom’s laptop was not your own. Without thinking much about it, you closed his laptop before hopping into the shower.

While you showered, Tom jumped onto the bed belly first and opened up his laptop. His original intent was to check and respond to his emails. That was until he found something that was only meant for your eyes. He was puzzled to find a document that looked like a short story. Curious, he continued reading what you have written so far.

Twenty minutes later, you walked into the bedroom, freshly cleaned and only in your towel, when you stumbled upon Tom lying on the bed, his blue eyes fixated on the laptop in front of his face. That was when you remembered you forgot to exit out of your doc of the President Loki and TVA Loki threesome fic you were in the middle of writing.

You were ready to pounce on the bed to yank the laptop out of his reach. Sure it was his laptop, but he was also looking at your smut about his characters. That all changed when your eyes laid upon Tom, realizing his typically sweet face was glossed over with mischief.

“Tom,” you began, “let me explain-” Tom shook his head and shushed you with a calloused finger.

“Well, darling, I knew you really enjoyed the show, but I had no idea you enjoyed it this much,” Tom chuckled. “Is that why you were upset that I cut my hair and dyed it back to brown?”

Your mouth fell agape and sweat trickled from your body even after showering. Tom took note of your reaction, a laugh bubbling from his chest. He scooted closer to you at the edge of the bed, wrapping his hands around your towel covered body.

Tom pushed you onto the bed gracefully, switching positions with you. You bit your lip as he towered over you and trapped your wrists above your head with one of his strong hands. His other hand gently stroked your cheek, his hard knuckles contrasting against your silky skin.

All of a sudden, the towel unraveled from your body, revealing your naked form. Your legs naturally spread open for him, revealing your already wet cunt to him. Tom licked his lips, the bulge in his pants becoming more apparent through his jeans.

“Such a dirty girl,” he growled as if Tom had completely immersed himself into Loki. “Can’t decide which of me she wants.” At that point, all traces of Tom had left in his face, voice, or body language. It was all Loki. Not that it bothered you one bit.

“Would you prefer the TVA variant? Or the President variant?” he inquired before grazing his teeth against your earlobe. You couldn’t bring yourself to answer him. Only a faint moan escaped your lips. His signature Loki laugh filled the room, his blue eyes darkening into an ocean storm.

“No matter, I will still have you writhing for your god,” your boyfriend hissed before drinking up your famous last words with a fiery kiss.

That night, he managed to incorporate both TVA Loki and President Loki in bed. At one point, you may have accidentally screamed for Loki rather than Tom. Fortunately, that didn’t stop Tom from pounding into you over and over acting as the two Lokis. You were also able to finally finish the threesome fic the next morning, thanks to Tom’s hands on inspiration.

Simu Liu

The keys of your laptop clicked away as you typed away at your newest work. You had spent the last three hours working on a Shang-Chi smut. An extremely dirty thought randomly popped into your head after watching the movie. You had no one to discuss it with so writing was your best outlet to unleash those ideas.

You were so laser focused on wrapping up the sex scene that you didn’t hear heavy footsteps trail into the kitchen. Simu just woke up from a nap and comes into the kitchen wearing only a pair of gym shorts

Writing your fics while Simu napped was the best time for you to write because he wouldn’t know about the filthy thoughts you had about his character. Even though you and Simu had pretty open communication, writing smut was one thing you preferred to keep to yourself. Especially since that smut was about his character.

The corner of your lips curved upward and you giggled to yourself as you finished writing the climax of your piece. No pun intended.

“What’s got my pretty girl smiling like that?” Simu interrogated while trying to read your face from behind the laptop.

“Huh, what?” you muttered with a puzzled expression. Simu chuckled softly when you met his gaze.

“Is there another meme of me? I wanna see-”

You slammed your laptop shut, trying to hide your expression. Simu jumped in surprise and confusion.

“Oh it’s nothing,” you lied, shrugging off his wonder. “Just work stuff.”

“Yeah, you were smiling over your editing job that you were complaining about hours ago. C’mon, babe, I’ve seen a lot of memes about me and it only makes my skin thicker. Just lemme see.” You tried to protest but he snatched the laptop from your grasp with ease. Damn his strong arms and fast instincts.

He opened the laptop and the screen blinked, displaying the white screen with the words of your x-rated Shang-Chi piece. Simu balanced the laptop in one hand while angling the screen for easier reading.

You wanted to be upset that he was reading something that was only meant for your eyes, along with the eyes of many strangers from your blog. The thing was, you couldn’t even bring yourself to stop him. You just watched everything unfold. Your eyebrows tightened into a thin line as you chewed on your lip, questioning if you were ready to let him into your secret world of fanfiction writing.

His eyes scanned over the written work, widening at how it progressively got filthier. He smirked deviously, rereading a particularly nasty part of the fic. Was he actually liking what you wrote about his character? You tried to reach for your laptop but he scooted away from you, sitting in the chair across from you.

“This one is my favorite part,” he cleared his throat, “‘Shang-Chi yanked your panties off with his teeth, your arousal still sticking to the fabric even as it slid down your legs.’” Both yours and Simu’s cheeks warmed up as he read that line aloud. He hummed in satisfaction and lowered the top of the laptop so he could get a better look at you.

“Well, it looks like I did a good job as Shang-Chi if you’re all hot and bothered by him,” Simu taunted, licking his lips. You knew the gears in his head were turning and you tried to avoid his gaze, which only egged him on, a smug smirk plastered on his face.

His arms extended out as if preparing to give you a hug. “Come here, baby. There’s nothing to be shy about.” You reluctantly walked to the other side of the table. The first thing you notice is the apparent bulge poking through Simu’s shorts.

Your pussy clenches around nothing, staring at his package through the thin material. Simu pat his thigh, motioning you to sit on his lap. As you did, your breath hitched as your now wet slit brushed against his hardening cock. His lips hovered over the shell of your ear, his next words causing you to shudder.

“How about you show me more of what is on that dirty, little mind of yours. I want to know all the things that turn my pretty girl on.”

Tom Holland

“Hey, love, you know the site Tumblr right?” Tom asked randomly during Sunday brunch. This caused you to choke on your mimosa, thankfully not causing a scene in the middle of the restaurant. When Tom asked if you were okay, you just heaved a giant breath and nodded.

“Yeah, I know what Tumblr is,” you responded, taking another sip of your mimosa to ease your anxiety. “Why do you ask?”

“So one of the mates sent me one of the blogs on there. This one blog in particular writes these fun little stories about me...well, actually, my characters. I believe they’re called fanfiction, right? Anyways, some of the stories they write are really...ummm what’s the word...graphic. In a sexual way.”

His rambling only increased your anxiety. Luckily, it was a bottomless mimosa so you refilled your glass with the pitcher of juice and champagne.

“Really?” you paused nervously, your heart pumping outside your chest. “What’s the blog?”

Tom showed you the screen of his phone.

Fuck!

The blog he was referring to was your own. You had the blog way before you started dating Tom. In fact, you were one of the most popular fanfic writer blogs on the site. Once you started dating Tom, you made it your mission to hide all traces of your blog from him. How could one of his friends have found it?

“Oh, cool!” was all you could muster up as your blood ran cold.

“Yeah, actually, it’s quite flattering. No offense, love, but I do receive a lot of sexual comments, but to write a story- I mean, fanfiction- about me. It’s interesting. I should read it to you and we can-”

“No, no, that’s okay.” You chugged the rest of your mimosa. You proceeded to refill it and take another sip. Meanwhile, Tom was oblivious to your nervousness.

“You know what, if it’s alright with you, I should write to this blog. Tell them that their writing is so good that it has inspired me to be better in bed-”

You slammed your palm flat on the table. Tom jumped in his seat at the loud noise.

“Tom, stop talking.”

“I’m sorry, love, did I go too far?”

“Tom, that’s my blog! I wrote those fanfictions about you!” Tom stared at you in disbelief. You sighed, sinking into your seat.

“I had that blog years before I met you. When we started dating, I didn’t want you to know about it because I thought I would scare you away. I didn’t want you to think I was just another fan.”

Tom reached his hand out for you to grab. You eased against his touch, warmth flooding to your cheeks.

“Seeing that you liked the stories so much, I guess I had nothing to be ashamed of.” You laughed, setting down your glass.

“Of course, you have nothing to be ashamed of. I love them even more knowing that you wrote them for me. And now, I know exactly how to please you.” He motioned your waiter over to your table, requesting the bill.

“Think you and I should reenact some of your works when we get back to the flat, yeah?”

*Thanks for reading :) Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Your responses are what keep me motivated to write. However, please do not repost or translate my work anywhere.*

#tom hiddleston #simu liu #tom holland #tom hiddleston headcanon #simu liu headcanon #tom holland headcanon #tom hiddleston smut #simu liu smut #tom holland smut #rpf headcanons #mcu headcanons #tom hiddleston x reader #simu liu x reader #tom holland x reader #smut #fem!reader #reader insert #no y/n

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smolvenger · 3 months

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A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Nineteen (Loki x fem! Reader Hiddlesverse Crossover Series, A 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. 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 complete your revenge.

Word Count: 7K (I REALLY wanted to get to the part at the end)

Warnings: mentions of sex, masturbation, and cheating (I portray the canon cheating in The Essex Serpent as bad and both Will and Cora deserving of punishment, and if you don't like that, don't read this), Supporting Women's Wrongs. Violence, Loki being Loki. Mentions of religion.

Series Masterlist

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

On Wednesday, you went out with your mother to shop for Cora’s birthday present in the next larger town. There were times you both enjoyed going there for little outings more than the sleepy white and brown town by the seaside could afford. You stopped at the first boutique for women you found.

Clothes, yes, clothes would do for the gift. You recalled what she would wear. Grey coats and no corset when she was researching and running about. The grey dress for parties. You recalled the bright red dress that forever drenched your nightmares in infamy.

Women walked about with their hats and little purses dangling. Mother got into chatting with a shop-girl about what was on sale. The bell over the door would ring as shoppers entered and exited. Roses blossomed in vases amongst the goods. Walking about, you noticed several lacy gowns full of little ornaments on mannequins.

Not those dresses. Nothing with frills and feathers. Cora didn’t like that. She wouldn’t wear it. Your secret goal was to find the perfect attire, be it a dress or a coat or even a skirt or blouse that Mrs. Seaborne would not resist adorning. You had to keep looking.

Sometimes there was a slight hint of masculinity in what Cora wore….like Lady Sif... You did miss your trainer and somewhat friend- she had a heart beneath her sometimes aloof and brash nature…

Wait a minute- how hypocritical you were! Admiring Lady Sif and feeling embittered to Cora! Should you do this at all? No, no you had to gather yourself. Focus. You pushed the thought away to your mind.

It took some searching, but you managed to find your Trojan Horse for the gift. It was the perfect one for Cora. A new grey coat with no worn frays or signs of use. Just like the one she always wore. Practical, but not frumpy, comfortable, and subtly pretty. Only this one was new, freshly made with hardly any tears. Perfect for running about in the fields and forests and muck, searching for Serpents in the wood and the Serpent in your fiancee’s trousers.

You bought it at once. You both traveled right back home. Refreshing yourself with tea and sandwiches, you picked up your new package and brought it to your room. Taking out the coat from its box, you laid it down over your bed. A body, a ghost, a figure lying down in the realm of either death or sleep.

Cora, Cora, Cora, Mrs. Seabrone, the widow, her, her, her- The equal half of the pair that ruined your life. You had done your subtler strikes against Will. It was now time to strike against her.

You went to your desk. Getting out a journal, you tore out a blank scrap of paper.

Grabbing a pen, you wrote five words down in big, clear letters.

Once it dried, you folded it up.

The coat’s sleeves had two sides of the fabric. She wouldn’t see it if it was inside out. For it would be in the fabric itself.

You got out scissors, your needle, and grey thread. Then you cut open a hole in the sleeve. Folding the paper up carefully, you tucked it inside. Then you got your needle and thread and patched it back up so the scrap of paper was concealed inside the sleeve.

Yes, your powers could have done that. But you were determined to do it with your hands, with real effort- it was freeing, satisfying.

You then laid the dress back out.

You held out your hand. Concentrating harder than you ever did before with your magic gifts, you waved it over the coat.

The dress lay untouched, like normal.

You then retracted your hand.

Loki cut in.

'My pet, why didn’t you do that with your dear Lusty Vicar?'

' He never was ‘my’ vicar….why have him when I have a god and a prince as my husband instead?' you teased.

‘Well…I cannot blame you for that.’

You heard a small chuckle of his. You settled the dress back into the box.

' But…you are right, Loki! Will got all those letters, all the things that will come up to him. And there is one more thing I shall do to him. But it’s…it’s not like this. They were equal in this…so I should!'

The next day was conveniently a Thursday. The time Will went to the lake to pleasure himself over his mistress in the ocean or lake or stream or whatever body of water it was, as Loki confided to you. Or swim bare, as Will once confided to you in his times past. When you were so happy, in love, that as you smiled and looked at him in adoration, Will would only look at you with secret boredom and annoyance.

He was doing it again. He was bare. And if he was touching himself or swimming or both, it didn’t matter. He would be away from his house again.

That would be his mistake.

You hurried to the vicarage, not wanting to take your time before anyone could see you. You scurried up the stairs into his room. Finding his clothes where they were kept in his shelves and wardrobe. With every item, you placed your powers on each one. Each dark sweater you once smiled over, each white shirt you once lusted over, each tan coat hat made you stifle a giggle, every green vest, pants, down to one last sock.

Then, before he would finish, you hurried out and back. Not leaving a trace. You’d have to wait until Cora put her own on. But no matter what he wore, odds are, it would work.

It felt good. Deliciously good.

The next day, the church would be empty. You hurried to the little safe. Again, you took out some money. Again, you snuck it in your shoe. Again, you hurried home and put it in a blank envelope. Your magic that night would slip it under Cora’s doorstep. As you had your alibi of sitting in the parlor reading the Bible, you could do it while looking at Second Corinthians and not outside.

Consistency was key. The council and congregation had to realize there was a certain gap each week in what they pledged to give and what was recorded as then. Once they saw the gap that was Will’s responsibility and someone found that exact amount in Cora’s possession….no matter how much Will insisted on his innocence, there would be evidence.

And no one would suspect you. For you were now the “Miracle” woman. Seemingly blessed by God. No thoughts in your pretty head except becoming a rectory bride and nothing else.

The next morning, it hit you that you had to keep up appearances and then some. Since you were “blessed” by God, you would be a blessing. That would make them all like you even more.

When you first returned after the disaster that occurred with Grendel, you would walk about. Feeling like a shelled piece, your center torn out and thrown away. You would notice the looks on their faces. Once, they had a silent mixture of pity and disgust for you being “ruined.” But now, after the miracle, the suspicious town who thought anything and everything they saw was a part of something monstrous, magical, and greater than themselves be it in terror or awe… Now, they liked you.

And you had to make them like you even more.

You looked up at your parents at breakfast over your poached eggs.

“Oh! How are the Crawfords doing? I hear Mrs. Crawford is fond of flowers, may I go pick some for her?” you asked.

Your mother smiled approvingly, asking of the neighbors back home.

“With the Trickster god about, not in the woods! You must be careful, but you may buy some,” advised your mother.

With a smile, you went out, got to the flower shop, and bought a pretty bouquet of daffodils for Mrs. Crawford. You called on in time for tea and she cooed over the gift.

“Oh my- what a sweet girl you are, Miss Y/L/N!” she exclaimed.

She then revealed her hobby- collecting cookbooks and recipes.

“Oh- please tell me the recipe for making those little cakes, Mrs. Crawford! I’d like to surprise the Sunday School class for this week! Poor little dears, they deserve something nice!” you said.

She scribbled down the recipe that she learned from her mother, and then handed it to you.

For the next week, your free hours were spent building up a rapport. Patting children on the head, smiling at strangers, doing little acts of charity. It was better to stretch it out rather than pile it on thick in one go. It would seem natural.

One day, Martha, Mrs. Seaborne’s maid, was walking out with the widow’s little boy. In her pockets, there were pamphlets. You recognized it as from a magazine that was notorious in town for its liberality. He was doing his best to keep up with his chubby little legs, one tall arm reaching up to hold onto Martha’s. You stopped and greeted them like friends.

“Oh, hello there! Tell your mistress I cannot wait for the party! And how well he looks! What is his name?”

“Oh, hello there! And he- you have never been introduced! His name is Franklin, but we all call him Frankie,” explained Martha.

You bent your knees down to greet the little boy. Though you addressed him, his eyes would flitter anywhere but yours. They only flicked to you as you smiled, exuding warmth. Then you got back up to greet Martha. You asked her a little about the pamphlets. She rattled on about some bold, interesting, and brave ideas about slums and the treatment of the poor. So much, Frankie let go and was about to waddle away. She then gasped, out of her own spell, and gathered the boy back up.

“Already such a handsome lad! And so well-behaved!!” you cooed.

Martha bounced him a little and smiled at you.

“Perhaps you and the Reverend shall be blessed and there shall be a third in the vicarage soon!” Martha replied.

Loki’s voice rang in your head.

‘There better not be.’

You made sure to have such interactions with someone at least once a day. It was a little fun though. One benefit of being a clergy spouse was the opportunity to get to know others and do little acts of kindness for the community. To think, even before you were betrothed to Will, you could have done it. Done things like these for others, only with no plan behind it. Perhaps you would in Asgard.

You questioned Luke on his doings and said you would pray for him. You gave a beggar in town a few coins and he returned the favor by showing you an abandoned church. You told Mr. Banks to please stop drinking in excess and gave Mrs. Banks money for her pains. You smiled at grumpy old Mr. Cracknell despite his sneers. You gave flowers and gifts and cooked and baked for everyone- now they would all love you.

You once overheard two ladies smile at you. As you left, you heard their whispers- “She truly is a Blessed Lady!”

All would respect their miracle woman. See her as perfect for their Lusty Vicar. For his house and bed and ministry. At least, sweet and innocent. And at most- the Perfect Ideal of a Woman blessed by God Himself. And never suspect the secrets inside you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The evening arrived for Cora’s birthday party. You put on a nice dress of velvet and navy blue. This was partially for Stella, so even if it wasn’t the bohemian style your friend had a weakness for, it still was apt you should don her color. As you continued to get ready, you found your hands shaking as you put on your last bit of jewelry.

Gathering your gift placed in a box and wrapped up in ribbon, you headed to her house. Arriving at the front door, you lifted your hand to knock. Part of you hesitated. Your hand floated above in a trembling mess, curled and crumpled, as if to squeeze yourself into reality.

The old hesitation seeped in like tea levees in a forgotten cup of water, one that was once boiling and now grew tepid with each passing second. Should you do this? The coat was already in your hands, too late to be ungiven…should you just give it to her like a decent person and not use its magic? Should Cora be punished?

What if your father was right, and it was just “silly jealousy”?

Were you just bitter about Cora’s rejection of traditional feminine norms? Did it shock you to the point where you were upholding traditions blindly? Criticizing her for being an unfeminine woman? Feeling anger in her brashness and her boldness, because you projected your insecurities on her unfairly? You felt in your soul women should be considered equal to men….yet here you were, your heart turned against another woman! An unfeminine woman! An unconforming woman! Must you be a hypocrite and tear her down?

Not to mention her past. Cora’s husband hurt her and beat her. What a nightmare that must have been!

That was one odd similarity between you both- you loved two men, two cruel men- Mr. Seaborne and Will. And while Will never once raised his hand to hurt you, he didn’t have to.

And it must have been uneasy- having one little son who it was rumored was an “odd” child. And part of you…admired her wanting to pursue a passion, of bravely entering a male-dominated field, and wondered at the discrimination she must have experienced…

Your mind was reeling as you knocked on the door.

The maid, Martha, opened it. She greeted you kindly. “Ah there! Miss Y/L/N! Welcome in! Cora- come quick! Miss Y/L/N has arrived! And she has a gift!”

As Martha stepped aside, you came into the warmth of the house. A fire was crackling and there was chatter in the next room. You took a deep breath to steel yourself, as Cora walked to greet you. Donned in slightly fancier attire and her usual grey.

“Oh- hello there. Welcome in,” she greeted with a smile. Her voice a low mezzo.

You walked in and presented the present.

“For you, happy birthday Mrs. Seaborne,” you replied with a kind smile, despite your stomach churning. Perhaps you should just leave it, not enact what you set up inside, and let it alone.

Martha dutifully took the present and left. Cora went up to you with a smile.

“How glad you could be here! I hope I can call you my good friend, Miss Y/L/N,” she said.

Your senses reached out and could feel something in the pocket of her dress.

It was a letter she was going to send tomorrow morning.

A love letter to Will.

You felt your jaw and fists become tight.

“Oh, thank you! Please excuse me- I’m going to get something to drink,” you excused.

Promptly turning around, you began to walk over, your head spun for a bit. You found the dining room did have some red punch. Guests chatted with each other, ignoring you. You made yourself drink slowly. You urged your breathing to slow despite your racing heart and mind.

She called you her friend to your face, yet had the audacity to continue to pursue the man about to be your husband!

You took another sip. You felt some of the cold punch dribble on your mouth. You grabbed a napkin and wiped it. The little red drops look like blood on the crumpled cloth.

You then made up your mind about her. It didn’t matter if she pursued science or housewifery, it didn’t matter if she wore corsets or refused them. It didn’t matter who she was or what she liked. And it especially didn’t matter what happened in her past.

Even if it all explained why…in no way could you excuse or condone her actions.

If Will had forced himself on Cora if he lied about you to her… there would be nothing to forgive. She would be a victim as much as you.

But that’s not what happened.

A thought began in you, growing, spinning around in your mind in its quiet, angry, bitter delirium.

She knew Will wasn’t free…and she did it anyway…

And for that, Cora would receive punishment. There was no regret in your systems now. You would enact the gift when the time was right.

It even made you more motivated to enact the next part of your plan here- one seed was planted when Martha carried that present away. Now you had to figure out where to send the next letter. You were glad you remembered. Even if the present didn’t work- you would at least figure out where to send the letter.

But for now, you had to calm yourself. Take deep breaths and take note of the current moment.

A small group of people were gathered in the parlor. Saying you felt better after getting a little dizzy, you went over to meet them. You took note of those you knew. There was Mr. Charles and Mrs. Katherine Ambrose. A couple that lived close to Will. They were looking forward to having you as neighbors. They already viewed you as such as you went up to greet them. Charles shook your hand excitedly.

“How good to see the lady of Reverend Ransome! How is he today?” he asked.

Ransome…that was an odd name. Once you would have loved and now…how hollow it felt. Empty. It was going to be Stella’s name in another lifetime if it wasn’t you. Ransome- like the word “ransom”. Which meant to hold someone as their prisoner. To trap. There was a second meaning to the word to. And also the bargaining, the deal. The money paid would set prisoners free. So you would have been ransomed to be a Ransome and in need of a Ransom. Perhaps others would see the second meaning if you married him and lived a life of lies in that tall, white vicarage.

Only you knew which meaning it would take on for you or Stella had either of you married Will.

“He’s lovely. Said hello to us after everything he did. He was busy as a bee today- helped a farmer whose sheep broke out into the field. Then he was off to scold Mr. Banks about his crudeness over tea and biscuits,” you reported.

Katherine promised to indulge you in secrets of marriage and housewifery, gathered in gossip and recipes, and should the time come, child-rearing. You smiled and listened to her.

A few others trickled in. Luke you recognized was finger-combing his short hair. All sipping on drinks and biting off bits of treats before dinner of roast lamb.

As you sat down to the little main course you saw Martha bouncing along Frankie. Cora turned her head to the maid, nanny, and now it seemed, a cook too.

“Martha, make sure Frankie is in his bed by now, please.”

“Oh, of course, Miss,” Martha replied.

Cora turned around and began to pour out small glasses of wine for everyone. But you found yourself looking at Martha.

You took note of the look on Martha’s face. She hadn’t left but was staring at Cora. Lovingly, full of longing, blushing cheeks and soft eyes with a little smile…she hesitated before she turned and left.

Part of you was a little shocked. You were surprised- you knew your husband liked both men and women, so you shouldn’t be so shocked. It was the kind that took you by complete surprise and made you a little worried for her. But you looked down on your plate of dinner and ignored it, pretending like you didn’t see as you began to take nibbles off your side dishes.

Excusing himself, Luke turned around to leave for the parlor. Everyone gave little looks in confusion. Then he returned with a bouquet full of red roses. People gave little gasps, smiles, and the little laughter of delighted surprise, except for the birthday lady. She sat up, her posture rigid and her small eyes darkening, her round face still pale.

He knelt and gave the bouquet to Cora in a flourish.

“Roses for your birthday, our dear Cora! In addition to the present!” he declared.

But the object of this grand gesture did not change one bit in her face or body.

“Oh…thank you, they’re very nice,“ Cora replied politely. She took the flowers, set them aside, and continued eating. All as she did, he smiled big and tried to pay compliments, but she ignored him.

Oh, good grief! Was every person in town in love with Cora!? Did she have admirers popping in everywhere to swoon over her!?

Then again, it would cause a rift in your plans. For the third letter you had already decided that you would leave it in church where a member of the congregation would pick it up. You would have to take note of where Luke and Martha sat in church. If they discovered the letter, heartbroken as they would be, they wouldn’t tell a soul. Especially Martha considering this was her employer!

It then hit you…everyone loved Cora. Everyone owned up to Cora and offered their hearts. She had her pick of anyone in town, any soul…

And she chose your fiancee.

She knew he wasn’t free…and she did it anyway. The thought emerged again.

They began to talk. Soon there was a two-layered cake delivered. It had a coating of white buttercream that seemed delicious on the outside, but the inner cake was bitter and stale to your tongue. Yet the others greedily devoured the pieces anyway, only wiping away the cream on their mouths with napkins.

You reached your powers out. You found her room, her desk, her letters. Where was it- where was it? There were letters. Of course, the love letters from Will. But nothing- she must have already sent things! Oh, you couldn’t find anything! Was it hopeless? Should you plant two letters in the church?

But then, right before you could search further….a miracle occurred.

“I only wish to have more evidence. Mr. Sawyer of the Royal Institution was interested. He wished to see my notes on the fossils. Though it appears I will have to give him a hypothesis that he considers ‘great’ enough. That’s what I wish for my birthday,” Cora sighed.

“Do not fret, but keep at it. They will listen soon!” encouraged Katherine.

You took note as you delicately ate. Remembering the name. Etching it into your mind to be reached again.

You bore the rest of the party patiently, then said you were tired and excused yourself. The Ambroses cooed saying that the little parsonage bride would indeed need it in her excitement for the upcoming day. They escorted you back home.

The next day, you stopped at the library. You found the address of the Royal Institution of London, copying it down onto a piece of paper.

Once you got home from the party, you got out an envelope. You got out the second love letter, the “come quickly” letter being tucked in your bookshelf for Sunday.

The second love letter you placed in an envelope.

You then got out another piece of paper.

“Dear Mr. Sawyer, I have some unfortunate news regarding Mrs. Seaborne. I found this letter in the possession of Reverend Ransome, who is already engaged to a Miss Y/L/N. She is not of character fitting for your halls of science. Sincerely, Anonymous.”

Scurrying out, you sent it out to be mailed.

Now you only had to wait for Church. Use your senses to note where people sat. Then you’d plant the last letter.

Saturday Afternoon, no one would be there. You crept inside. Your senses reached out, feeling who sat where. You took note of where Martha and Luke sat. Even the Amrbose’s too, for they were fond of their neighbor and if they discovered the letter, wouldn’t talk. Martha liked the far left in the corner. Luke enjoyed the fourth in the middle from the door. The Amroses took the second pew to your left.

You got out one of the red, sturdy books of common prayer that sat there. Often there were pamphlets with the service order planted in the books. You picked a spot where none of Cora’s allies would sit. From your coat’s pocket, you got out the letter. The “come quickly” letter. The one that would shock and damn the most, for you had to get it to where it would reach more people.

You planted the letter inside the book. To make it, Will left it there by accident. A letter too juicy for anyone to resist or just leave.

Sunday morning, you delivered the little baked cakes for the children. and set it aside in the kitchen. They all cheered and gobbled them up, uttering thank you’s. You were immediately becoming a favorite to them. They went up and asked questions until they had to be corralled to learn about Mary and Matha. But even the old lady who taught them couldn’t resist one. She picked up a warm cake, sniffed it, and you saw her shoulders sag after she took a bite.

You went to the front row of the church. This was all normal. What was always done, despite your racing heart. You didn’t dare check your senses to feel when the moment happened. It would make you too anxious.

As people filtered through, if they didn’t find interest to go chatting with the miracle woman, you took note. Even during the service, your back turned to see all of them.

Finally the organ blared and it began again. You then returned to the service to look with pretend adoration at Will for one hour. In his white robes with a blue-green sash with gold ornaments, he stood before the crowd a the sanctuary. The bright, sunny day letting a bright light over the brown church.

“For our announcements, in just a month, we shall have our rescheduled wedding. We hope that those invited shall be available to join. And then, my dear Miss Y/L/N shall make me the happiest of men.”

You took note of those little wooden chandeliers. The cloudy, grey overcast day rather than a sunny one, their wicks were dry and unlit.

And he was standing right under one in the middle as he spoke on.

‘Do it, my dear,’ Loki whispered to you.

You made one of the unlit candles on the chandelier shake. Wriggling.

‘Fall’ you ordered it through your magic.

It then tipped over the side where Will remained for the announcements. There were a few gasps, and before he knew why-

PLUNK! The candle hit him right on his curly, auburn head.

He jumped his white sleeves up to his head with a noise he made out of pain. It wasn’t enough of a fall to do him any real harm, only a bit of pain.

The congregation burst into laughter. As did you. For all the tension inside of you, it was much needed.

The service began and then ended. When you checked it the next day…it was taken. You let out a smile, a deep breath through your system. A member of the congregation had “happened” upon the letter and took it. And likely read it. How could they not? Small places need entertainment. The content was far too shocking, too entertaining, too scandalous for someone in a small town not to read.

And they would do what people in a small conservative and religious town with nothing else to do did.

They would talk.

Then Mr. Brown would tell Mr. Miller would tell Mrs. Miller who would then tell the baker who would whisper it to his daughter and she would tell all of her friends at tea time and then one would tell Ms. Price and Ms. Price would tell Mrs. Banks who would tell Mr. Banks who would tell his drinking buddy Mr. Plume who would tell old Mr. Cracknell who would complain about it to Mr. Charles Ambrose who would then tell his wife Katherine. And by then Katherine wouldn’t talk and swear to secrecy about her neighbor but it would be too late because the silent melodrama behind everyone’s backs was already in its run.

The next two days, you could sense it. There was sadness, a pity on people’s faces as you greeted them. There was some hesitation when they talked- but they were even kinder to you than before.

When they interacted with Will, you noticed a cold politeness. One woman, after he left, crossed herself as if she met a demon. Some people seemed silently furious at Cora. Glaring at her.

The rumors started to circulate at last. The sweet virtuous, wonderful bride. The miracle bride. The bride who was blessed by God himself…only to suffer as it seemed her vicar was being tempted. The devil moving him to deny his oath before God. An oath he was ready to make before all of them. An oath already broken.

And you were now the figure of pity- poor, sweet Y/N! The bride God blessed! Now thrown away! What was he thinking?

So it would make the last three steps of your plan fall into place.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was Wednesday and Will was going to be here for dinner. Your mother rolled up her sleeves and began to cook away. You promised to wipe down every surface clean and sweep the steps outside. As you stepped out with a broom, you looked out at the front. Nervousness tightening your chest.

It was time to enact the next step. Part of you hesitated to do this.

But Will would be here tonight. It was the right time it would work- a time after he left when rumors were running high.

And if you did, then everything would start falling into place. You just had to gather your courage to do it.

You set your hand before the door.

This is going to hurt him more than it shall hurt me, you thought as a comfort.

You waved your hand over the front of your house at the door. Concentrating hard.

Nothing happened. Not yet. It was all coming into place. You swept with more of a flourish.

Once you had finished your errands, you saw your mother hurry out.

“What is the matter?” you asked.

“Oh, apples! I forgot! There is a new shop here with orchards from farmers! This fellow, Mr. Armstrong grows the finest apples! I forgot to buy some- I must be back in time to finish supper!” she chatted, putting on her hat as she scurried away.

It wasn’t long before she hurried and set the apples in a bowl. Though you insisted on being there to help with dinner. You had to learn to cook for your husband, you said. Preaching works up an appetite.

Another dinner, another evening like no other. Will got up a napkin and wiped the sauce off of his goatee before he continued. He reached a hand to hold yours, though it felt like a grip on you. Your mother cut everything into bits taking small bites. Your father devoured his plate within a minute.

Will looked over you, his eyes as soft as a lamb.

“I must keep you in my prayers now- and will help you. The council who appointed me- The Reverend Eckheart, Moore, and Bishop Green shall be here. And you shall pray the council meeting goes well, yes?”

“Of course, love,” you replied with a small voice.

The council meeting. He thought they would sip tea and discuss theology. How little did they know…a man who the town thought an attempted murderer, rumored to be unfaithful, with evidence of him giving money from the church to his mistress. A woman who was probably by now exposed as a ruined woman to the largest and most prestigious institution of science.

Part of you wanted to wait longer to see it all happen.

Everyone then gathered to be by the fire in the parlor to read for a minute as dinners settled. A domestic, normal scene.

Will then announced he would leave. He shook hands with your parents and embraced you and kissed you on the cheek. It almost pained you- a glimpse of what could have been. Even of what was.

You were scared to enact your step. But you wanted your revenge more. You would not let your mind run wild- you would act rather than dwell. It was now or never.

He left, closing the door.

You waited, counting the time. You turned back to your knitting in the parlor. Your heart raced. You could sense him there already walking.

You took in a deep breath. Remembering the mantra.

“This shall hurt him more than it shall hurt me.”

Sitting down to your needlework, you turned your head away. You urged the magic on the front side of the house as he began to walk away.

‘Go alight now,’ you ordered.

It complied.

From outside of the front door, a fire grew. It’s smoke spread. You turned your head down and began to knit as if not noticing it. For surely the Miracle Woman was only attending her womanly needles per her duty as a wife to the church!

Then there was smoke in the parlor.

“Fire! There’s a fire!” shouted your father. Your mother screamed. And you screamed with her in your planned terror.

Mother pulled all of you out of the back door before any of you could be hurt.

Neighbors ran out, pulling out to make a makeshift fire department.

“Fire! There’s a fire! Fire at the Y/L/N house!”

Will, with what little decency in his holy heart he had, hurried back to see the damage. You wailed out tears and clung to him like any sensible damsel in distress.

The neighbors hurried with buckets of water, and Will helped. Instead, you leaned on your mother, hugging her and crying, shaking it out per the innocent little victim. The Harris’s got wind and ran out, and soon the fire was silent by the water people managed to get out and toss at it. Even before it could creep in and destroy the place or hurt any of you.

But the front door and area were charred some, there was no denial about that.

“Oh, thank you! Thank you all! How frightening!” you said, tears streaming down your face like the little ingenue you pretended to be. You smiled at each one.

“Don��t worry, we promise, you’re safe now!” assured Mrs. Banks. From her white shawl, she reached out a hand to squeeze your shoulder.

“Why…what happened? There were no lamps, no candles there, nothing that could be alight!” your father wondered.

“Hm, looks like it started in the front,” Mr. Harris noted.

“There was nothing there! Could it be an accident? Oh- to think the house nearly burned down! How horrible!” you would cry, shivering like a doe in a rainy forest. Perfect for him to wrap his arms around, the image of a victim and now the one who began it.

“What happened before?” asked Mrs.Harris in concern.

“Oh, nothing! Reverend Ransome came by to visit, he just left. Then it occurred!” your mother reported. “We shall be fine, just careful! Just some charring in the front- nothing big!”

People would wonder. But you felt their eyes on him.

By the next morning, You knew the rumors would turn.

They already knew of the rumor of the affair. Now…with nothing else but the fire…

Someone tried to kill you, kill their precious miracle woman. There was nothing that could have caught fire by accident and it was started from the outside.

By someone who must have been out.

And it was Will who was there and was seen just outside and left right as it began.

The talk would turn.

Did he want to…kill his fiancee, the beloved darling YN, the miracle woman who emerged from Loki blessed by God? Why…then that made it even worse!

Moods would turn against him. Bad. People were polite, but their eyes would soften at you. Poor, pitiful Y/N! If this happened- then the Lusty Vicar was a Lusty Scoundrel! They frowned but kept polite. Oh, if only some act of God would happen to set him and his little tart in their place.

But one act was on the way. The last step in your plan.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Three days passed. And each morning you checked your senses to see where Cora was. It made you nervous. Your heart racing.

Then one morning, you woke up in the early dawn again. Your parents were still asleep. You could only wrap a shawl around you. Though the golden and emerald wedding ring remained on your desk. You fit it around your finger. Not too loose to fall off, but not too tight to squeeze it.

Stomach rumbling, you could only sip on a little coffee. Picking an apple from the bowl, you took a bite of it. Tasting the juices that tickled down your throat and crunched like bones in your mouth.

Your senses alerted you. Cora was wearing the new coat. She was in the marshes, in the woods.

Now. Now. Now! You urged. It was finally time. Time you would go home.

You got a letter left on your desk. You wrote it before and would leave it planted. Explaining that you loved Loki, you married him already, and that you were going to reside in Asgard already with him. Especially to fight Grendel. And that Stella once she was healed would be returned home too.

Then you set off. Your heart raced as you went through the woods in only your nightgown and shawl as you hunted Cora’s path like a predator.

Your thoughts reached out to Loki.

'Listen to me! It’s almost time!' you cried. 'Hm, yes my dear, time for what? I do prefer specifics,’

'Loki-I’m going to complete the last part of my revenge. Then I am about to give a signal. When I do- open a portal. And take me home to Asgard, Please!'

'Oh, anything for you,’ he agreed.

You caught your breath. Beneath the dirt had gotten on your little slippers. On the bottom of your skirt.

It was a similar scene. There in the chill woods where the birds sang about and an owl hooted over his night’s hunt. The little mist. The light wind made it cooler. You had known it before. And you would not stop to pick flowers anymore.

You were so familiar with this, this dream, this nightmare, this dance where you could recall each step.

So when you went behind a tree and turned to the field, the sight shouldn’t have shocked you.

Will and Cora. Her in the new grey coat and him again undone in his shirt and tan coat. The same scene again.

You thought you were strong, a brave person, thought you could take it, chew it, devour it, and digest and it shouldn’t bother you, it shouldn’t have…but…You felt the cold shocks, the electricity made with ice running down you. Pat of your vision blurry, making yourself small. Feeling small.

This time, Will placed his green scarf over Cora.

They talked a little bit. You couldn’t hear their words. Only small. Romantic.

He grabbed the long end and gently tugged it over so she would be close to him.

The exact same tug that he did at your skirt not long ago.

Yes, you were crying, small tears down. Your breathing faster and your mind whirring. Yes, you were shaken just like the girl you were before. Your mind was stricken with panic to where it wasn’t clear. You knew it would happen- yet why did it hurt again? You felt almost on the cusp of panicking, collapsing. Your failure and imperfections there in your soul, twisting like a knife to your chest. Your thoughts strangling you.

‘I’m not good enough, I’m not good enough, I’m not good en-’

‘You are good enough, Y/N Darling, you are to me,’ Loki cut in.

His voice broke out. You felt calmer.

You hid behind a tree. And waited. For whatever conversation, be they talking with their mouths or sticking each other’s private bits up the others, would be done.

You were different now- and this time, you had everything in place. You were not going to run. Fury was building in you. Ready to explode, run, scream. Yet you kept silent.

'Loki…keep me calm, steady, please…'

'Yes, my love- you are brave. You’re a brave, wonderful, clever woman. I love you, Y/N. You are my True Love, my wife, and my princess. I love you so much.',/em>

'I love you too.'

'Is that the signal?'

'No…I’m waiting for them to stop…'

You looked back.

Cora was alone now. Will must have walked off to the woods or fields or wherever. No scarf around her neck. The mantra repeating in your mind.

"She knew he wasn’t free. She did it anyway.”

Your eyes glared at her. You stepped a little out to see clearly. Though she was in the distance and you must have been just a figure, at most a phantom. Her small eyes down on the ground and a blush on her cheeks, nothing in her blonde hair streaked with red but her lover.

You kept your eyes focused and took a breath as you lifted your hand. Letting your anger run cold.

“She knew he wasn’t free. She did it anyway.”

You let that phrase be your guide as you pointed with a finger.

With a breath, you got out your magic. Urging it to tear the sleeve open from the outside.

After she did, she went up to glance at you.

Cora felt something off, feeling it funnily on her arm. She reached inside. Then her nose crinkled at feeling something. Then she got out the scrap of folded paper. Curiously, she took it out. She unfolded it and flipped it over to the side with words.

You stepped out of the tree. You gathered your face to be still, your body still. Only a woman in a bridal-white nightgown staring calmly at her, only your eyes showing what anger you held in your heart.

You waited until her tiny, scrunching eyes saw the phrase you had written. For just one second to pass for her to process it.

One second to react. To look up. To see you in the woods, the paper shaking in her hand.

It read:

“Mrs. Ransome sends her regards”

In a heartbeat, flicked your wrist, triggering the magic on the coat.

The coat burst into flames and Cora with it.

Your senses alerted you that Will was some distance in the field, praying. Wearing his coat- one that you cursed.

With a flick of your wrist, you let it burst into flames too.

It was poetic. Stella’s suicide attempt would have been a death of water. So it seemed fitting that theirs should be fire.

You turned around. You would not watch to see if Cora survived.

It didn’t matter.

As you walked into the woods, you heard her. The high-pitched, womanly, tormented scream of Cora Seaborne.

You smiled a little as you walked further and away.

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