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smolvenger · 9 months

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The Tavern Prince (Prince Hal x fem! Y/N Oneshot)

Summary: You are shocked and unhappy to find out you are betrothed to notorious rake, Prince Hal. But one evening, he sneaks you into the Boar's Head Tavern...and your mind about him starts to change.

Warnings: Smut at the end!! 18+ NSFW! (thigh riding, fingering, loss of virginity, dirty talk, good ol' p in v). Reader is super Proper and Prim and has a stick up her butt just because I wanted her to in this fic for the drama and tension of paring her with Hal (and I'm sick of Pick Me Girls in Historic Fiction. So Much) Mentions of sex and cheating (but no actual cheating, our boy would never. Trust me, I'm a Shakespeare expert). Not believable, but we're running on vibes, not accuracy so forget that couples were chaperoned or whatever. References to Shakespeare's plays and words (like "Die"= slang for orgasm and "wag"= boy).

Word Count: 9K (get some water, besties, and whores)

Taglist: @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @evelyn-kingsley@jennyggggrrr@five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th@ladycamillewrites@villainousshakespeare@holdmytesseract (smut starts at "sweetest of ladies" and ends at "Hal...I have no words.." btw bestie for your comfort) @eleniblue@twhxhck@lokisgoodgirl@lovelysizzlingbluebird@raqnarokr@holymultiplefandomsbatman@michelleleewise@wolfsmom1@cheekyscamp@mochie85@muddyorbsblr

“Y/N, we have something very exciting to announce. The king has given his consent. You are going to marry the prince…” your father announced to you at the table. Your mother nodded her head beside him.

You let a smile spread across your face. You were so thrilled you held your breath for a second. This was an honor beyond anything you could comprehend of what he would say. How many would want that honor? What woman didn’t want to be a princess? There were many princes in the world, but it had to be one of the English princes. They couldn’t mean some other country. The English king had four sons- which one was your groom? Likely not the youngest two- Humphrey and Thomas. They were boys, far too young for marriage.

That meant- the second eldest son! You interrupted in your excitement.

“Oh! I am to marry John of Lancaster! Oh, mother-father! How wonderful! He’s the sweetest youth- and he is always at each meeting with his father, the king! Oh, what a good husband he will be! I am so hap-”

“Y/N, I believe you misunderstood us,” your mother cut in.

You froze, blinking quickly.

“What do you mean?” you asked. “I’m not marrying a prince?”

“No, you are…” replied your mother.

If not Humphrey, if not Thomas, if not John…that left one English prince.

They smiled and took your hands across the table.

“The one who matters. The one who will make you one day queen of England through your union…”

Oh no, you thought, God’s blood, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, please, please oh Lord Above- please not him please not-

“You betrothed to his grace, the Prince of Wales, Henry Lancaster…”

It felt like a punch. You blinked, and your voice got smaller.

“You mean…Prince Harry?” you asked.

“Oh, yes, dear girl! Our daughter- Princess of Wales and then Queen of England!” your mother cooed. She went up and hugged you. Not that she could see the frown growing on your face.

Your father kissed your forehead. You put on a small smile. A practice one when they were looking. You swallowed it back.

You should have been thrilled to find out you were marrying the prince of Wales, the heir to England, to Bolingbroke, to the Lancasters. Your rational mind knew it was a huge honor.

But married to Prince Harry- no, Hal! That was what his vile friends all called him! Seems fit you should think of him as such!

Hal, the rake. The riotous son. The dishonorable son. The one with a dozen prostitutes at his heels! He even wore a glove from one to a joust once! The rebel. The drunk. The prankster. The scoundrel. The son his father wished could be swapped for another- everyone knew that. The reason why John of Lancaster was always in court? Because Hal was so little seen in the castle and at events and never appeared! Shirking his responsibilities to hang around bars! With seedy thieves and criminals and who knows what else!

You were not strangers. You had spoken with him the few times he had been in court. Your parents were good friends and old allies of Henry Bolingbroke before the chaotic events that crowned him. The few banquets Hal appeared, you were there. He only appeared at that ball a few days ago. You did have a dance with him. He spoke some, no more than polite subjects and small talk. But he seemed bored. Perhaps his father was breathing down his neck not to sneak out.

This was to be your husband?!! And this was to be the king?! The one not even his own father could be proud of?! Bound to until only Death did you Part!?

When you went to your private quarters, and no one was around, you went to your bed and screamed into your pillow.

You could already see your married life. Picture it in your head. Princess Y/N and Prince Hal, soon King Hal and Queen Y/N. The banquets would be a mess. Late into the night, there would be crowds of dirty, smelly people. Laughing with food still in their mouths and spitting and pissing all over the banquet halls. There would be thieves trying to reach to grab the jewels on you. Or try to grope you, only there would be no protection. So many drunkards vomiting all over the pretty stone hallways and throwing rocks through the tall windows.

Your waking vision of your future spiraled further in your head. You knew you would have separate quarters. You would have to go alone- you knew your husband's bed would have one if not two if not four ladies of the night to pleasure him until dawn. Or he would go into your room, bold and drunk with liquor and lust. He had the right to barge in when he wanted now.

It made you want to cry.

Three days later, there was a celebratory dinner at the castle for the betrothal announcement. All of you sat down. You were decked in a dark green dress and some jewelry given to you. To make you seem more regal. Not that it made you feel that way. You sat with your family, the King of England wrapped in his dark furs. The three younger Lancaster brothers all looked at you with small smiles- perhaps looking forward to having a sister-in-law. There was just one very crucial seat next to you left empty.

Of course, once the wine was poured and dishes were just set, in strode in, red leather jacket, hat, and all, none other than your intended.

You hated that he was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. An ivory face with tall cheekbones, a high forehead, and blue eyes. Tall and lean. He waltzed in with a slight smirk. His arms dangling back and forth so casually. A slight smile on his face.

“I apologize, I am late, I know!” he announced.

The king stood up, his hands over his thick, dark robe on his hips. Following him, everyone else rose up

“Harry-where have you been?! We were just about to dine at your betrothal dinner!” he chided.

“Only getting ready, father! I wanted to be more presentable-” he insisted, still standing.

“You will be punctual in the future, especially to show respect to your bride!” the king added on, gesturing to where you sat.

You only looked down at your plate. Bride, bride, bride. Once you thought of the word like a dream, like the word “fairy.” Something light and lilting- surreal and beautiful. Something you could attain too. But it only made your stomach curl.

You could feel Hal’s eyes, already on you. Then he walked forward and pulled out the chair next to you.

As the king sat down, all sat down.

Everyone began to eat. You barely could look at Hal. When you did, you found his eyes would drift up to see you. Then at once, you pulled yours down. Then your mother boasted of you.

“Our daughter- she was raised in a convent as any lady should be. The nuns all praised her as a good student- so quiet, ladylike, and diligent in her studies. She is learning all the dances done at parties. Oh- and her needlework is wonderful!”

You stood up, nodding.

“Yes! I sewed on little strawberries on my handkerchief! And I am making some new needlework of a pink rose, like the ones in the springtime-”

Your voice cut you off. Aware you were gushing so much. It wasn’t just the fact that the king watched. He was so used to his sons that a younger female presence was fascinating. King Henry the Fourth himself looked at you with a smile and soft eyes.

No- because Hal was listening and watching. you swallowed and looked next to you. Hal’s face was neutral. He leaned on the table, a mouth over his lip, scratching his chin. You saw him swallow a little and then look back down at his meal.

He didn’t like you. Didn’t even like you, you knew it. He was already thinking of how boring you were! You did have a cousin named Beatrice. She was the one who was climbing trees, and talking saucily to everyone and rebelling and speaking and laughing wildly. If only she wasn’t married by now! Then your family would throw her Hal’s way and they would be happy! If he had to marry at all, it should be someone like her! Not like…not like…not like you…He wouldn’t like you, either. You were sure. Calling you boring just because you prioritized manners and decency. Laughing at your sewing and the dresses you cherished so much.

“Oh, I am sure they are quite pretty, Y/N. And what think you, Harry?” the king asked.

Hal perked up.

“They…they should be.” he replied.

Copying what his father said .Of course. He took another bite and then he put a hand over his mouth again.

“Now- we must set a date for these children. What dates shall you say?” the king asked.

You and Hal shared a look and then perked up.

“We want enough time to prepare a decent wedding, of course. And to prepare them. Yet…the new Lancaster family must be secured through another heir, we know…” your father replied.

You could have thrown up the wine in your stomach. You looked down, not daring to see the look on Hal’s face.

“I agree. And my son must settle- therefore, I say two months from now shall give us enough time,” the king confirmed.

Two months?! It seemed so short. Not even time to come around to it.

You always wanted romance. To be wooed and won and courted. You dreamed of the day love would finally shine in some man’s eyes as he fell to his knees and begged for your heart and hand. Not thrown away to a scoundrel who didn’t like you.

“Now- don’t you be so worried, dear daughter,” the king consoled.

You looked up, and you saw him smile kindly at you.

“I remember the days I was nervous about my nuptials, too. Do not be afraid, lady Y/N- you will leave your family, but you will have a new one. Think of me more of a father here than king. You shall have me and three brothers who will look after you and be sure you want for nothing, my dear. And therefore…”

His eyes shot to Hal.

“If this rapscallion does anything to you before the marriage- hurts you. Breaks your heart-anything. You shall come to me and ask to end the betrothal, and you will have my blessing.”

Hal’s jaw dropped.

You gave the king a smile, a genuine one.

“Thank you, your grace.”

You went back down to your food, eating with more of a flourish. Hal then turned to you. It was the first few words he spoke directly to you that night. You braced for a bawdy joke about your wedding night from him, but there was none.

“We do have confits, here, my lady- would you like to try some?” he asked.

He offered you a golden bowl full of little sweets. They were tiny white spheres. He pressed the bowl your way as you peeked in.

“I’ve never had any,” you remarked.

“They are well, after dinner.“Here- try some,” he said,

You popped one in your mouth. And let out a sound of appreciation. They were very light and sweet, you nodded your head.

“Hm- very nice. And they are…sweet, my lord,” you commented.

You took another one as the servants arrived to clear your plates.

The next day was a formal announcement. It would be put on the doors of every church. And all of the court was gathered to watch with their rich cloaks and jewels glinting in the sun.

In Hal stumbled. How pale he looked- no doubt still hungover. He looked at you and he stopped. Then he stepped forward. You felt as if it was a wedding ceremony already and it made lightning

“We hereby announce an engagement- his majesty, Henry of Lancaster and the Lady Y/N will be married in two months time. Though they are already married in our eyes- we shall congratulate them on their union and the nuptials to follow,” announced the king to applause.

He turned to you both. He gave his son strict instructions, his eyes stern.

“Now Harry- kiss her and call her your princess,” ordered the king.

Hal looked down on you. He licked his lips, looking down at yours. Dear lord- was he about to kiss you before everyone! You instintually jerked a little away. He froze. Hesitated. He lowered his mouth and then set it tight shut again. Then your intended whispered in your ear.

“The cheek?”

You paused. It didn’t sound as bad as the lips.

“Yes,” you answered.

He gave you a chaste kiss on the cheek with it seemed half of England to witness.

This is began. Four long weeks of learning everything one had to know of being a princess. Learning French to converse with ambassadors, the history of the throne, the order of the servants, current matters, in addition to etiquette (which you took to very well) and so many things your head spun. Numerous formal public events where you had to stand by Hal and pretend you were a smiling, happy bride. Swallowing back what you really thought of him.

Only talking to him when required.

You didn’t doubt tha the didn’t like you.

No doubt he wishes he was off in Esatcheap, you thought. He doesn't even tolerate me.

All of your life, you did what you were told. It kept the peace. You never asked for much- just to be safe and content. Hopefully one day, maybe one day, fall in love with some nice gentleman and marry him. A nice, peaceful, happy life. But instead- you had him?! Why couldn’t it be John instead? Or some foreign prince! One who didn’t get drunk constantly!

One day, you had time to yourself. You sat there with your embroidery, putting the pink thread in and out of the white cloth. Glad it could relieve the stress of your mind. In walked Hal, he was a member of the family now and was welcome in and out of your home. You only looked up, acknowledging him.

“How are you, my lady?” he asked.

“I have been quite busy.” you answered.

He didnt have his cap, but kept on his red leather jacket and dark pants. His auburn curls that shone like amber when he walked by a ray of sunlight. And how…well fitting his jacket was on him. There was something stirring on you when you looked at him that you didn’t like. Attraction and yet also disgust.

“What did you…do this morning, my lady?” he asked. He fiddled with his hands placed on his lap.

He was forcing himself to spend time with you- you knew it. Just trying to be nice, pretending to be nice.

“Said my prayers, Ate breakfast. Wrote a few letters. I had a walk about…” you reported.

“That sounds very nice, Y/N,” he replied.

He sat up. Folding his arms, he leaned against the wall. He gave you a smile as he looked down on you, licking his lips. You had a guess as to what his thoughts were now. But here, without a thousand eyes watching over you, you could indulge in bluntness.

“And you, no doubt, enjoyed your morning with your whores from the London streets,” you sniped, pulling the pink thread through again. “We might as well be honest with each other if our parents want us to marry, Hal. Expecting fidelity from you is like expecting a fish to sprout wings and feathers. I’m saving myself the disappointment.”

You kept your eyes down. Ready to stitch in the next one when Hal said-

“I have not lain with whores…”

You turned your face to meet his, and found his eyes hardening. His smile dropped. He stood up from leaning against the wall. You found your own mouth opening a little, though the words struggled to come out.

“What…what did you say?” you asked. You weren’t sure if you heard it right.

“I…I have not lain with a whore in…five months, Y/N. I will tell you that…”

Guilt burned inside you. You turned your eyes down.

“Oh…I’m sorry…my mistake…” you wished earnestly. “I just know how your…reputation of…you know…”

“I cannot blame you that…” he commented.

You kept sewing, with a bit more fervor. You saw Hal out of the corner of your eye get closer to you, sitting beside you.

“You are always busy, my lady. Always doing something. Don’t think I do not notice how you study everything one must know to…to… I hardly see you smile.” he said.

You looked up at him.

“I have serious matters to bear- and I for one, take this upcoming marriage seriously…” you said. “If I must adapt to life in the castle, life as a princess-your princess- I will know how…”

“It is all you do…”

“It’s my duty to…it’s what…what it means to…to marry you…” you sputtered out.

You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so anguished, so sad. You saw the imprint of hte needle on your fingertips. They felt sore- how long had you sewn?

“You think I don’t…don’t take this marriage seriously?! That I don’t take you seriously?!” Hal asked.

You tossed it down and went to the window to look outside to the green trees and grey sky. Unable to face him, wrapping arms around yourself. Feeling tears in your eye ducts.

“Hal…you know I am not the kind of person you’d choose to be your wife…you know I am not the kind of lady you fancy…just go…I don’t care if you’re betrothed to her or buy her for the night, at least you’ll be happy with some other woman. Just…just admit it…You don’t like me, I will…I’ll just make you miserable, I’ll…spare you the disappointment. I’ll speak to your father- ask him to end it… just- go and end the betrothal and leave me in peace…”

You felt a few tears in you.

“My lady…you’re…you’re crying…” he commented.

You heard him walk behind you. You finally confessed it all.

“Hal…I wanted…I just wanted to..to have a good life. A normal, peaceful life. I dreamt of…of love and of being wooed and courted and romance…and now here I am, but…but…I’m…”

You thought of it. The upcoming days. Everything. Your life upheaving. Married and made royalty in months.

“I’m just…overwhelmed…” you confessed.

You felt tears go down your eyes. You flinched. You expected him to laugh at you. To scoff at you. He didn’t.

You turned around to him. He found your handkerchief, white with strawberries sewn on it, and handed it to you. You wiped off your face.

“Do you want to know a secret?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“The reason father wanted me to marry you was that you were always so good, so rule-abiding. He believed you would tame me. But I see you…you’re so afraid of pleasing others. You forget your own pleasures in life-haven’t you ever wanted to see life? Life outside of manors and castles? See real people? Not lords and ladies- What it is like?” he asked, leaning closer to you.

You looked up. He opened his hand. You accepted it.

“You look like you have never relaxed a day in your life! And for all your assumptions about me…have you ever seen a tavern, my lady?” he asked.

“I…I…uh…no. No, I haven’t,” you confessed.

“Then…how about a change of scene?” he asked. He gave a small wink. It made you a little breathless.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

You were dressed in some peasant clothes that fit you- a simple blue dress over a white shift and a brown belt and long sleeves. Simple, but pretty. You liked pretty things and wanted to feel a little even as a peasant. Hal in his usual red leather. You both rode out on his black horse He took you out to those streets. It buzzed with flies. You could smell meat and see the butcher’s wares of dead animals hung out everywhere. A tall dog wagged its tail and sniffed the ground. It went up to you and you petted it. He felt scruffy and soft and panted with a smile. Then he went about sniffing. Hal turned to you. He looked out. It was a steady crowd of people going about. You couldn’t help but look about you.

“Here, my lady…take my hand,” he offered, outstretching his.

“How come?”

“I don’t want you to get lost,” he explained.

You accepted it. Feeling it’s warmth as he walked you through. Many turned to see him and bowed to him. It amazed you. He looked around- you never knew so many just ordinary people. All about. Lvinig their lives- how fascinating they were.

He then smiled.

“This…this is the one. The one that’s my favorite!”

It was called The Boar’s Tavern. He helped you in. Already it was crowded with people. Wooden and smelling of roasting, rich, savory meats and of ale, of wine. People chatted everywhere. Children played about with balls made of cloth. Ladies sat on the laps of men and laughed.

In was a woman with an apron, a hat over her head, and fingerless gloves. She was short and had grey hair and bright, red cheeks from her bustling about.

“Aye! It is his grace, our Hal!”

He went up to her and kissed the side of her head.

The woman turned over and peeked at you, merely folding your hands before you.

“And my-who is this lady?”

You curtsied out of habit and placed your hands before you. Suddenly shy.

“Mistreress Quickly-this is the lady Y/N. She is…she is my betrothed. Lady Y/N, this is Misteress Quickly-she owns and runs this tavern.”

You looked about. To think- she, a lady, ran this whole business! It was hers! She wasn’t a whore or a wife, she was a woman of business!

“All of this is yours?” you asked.

“Aye, it is. A right and good establishment, if I say so.” Mistress Quickly boasted.

“It’s…it’s very…it’s cozy…and it looked fun!” you said.

“Oh, we do have some fun. Hal-pour her some sack. We will give her some and a meal, on the house! Especially one about to be Lady Hal- oh, to think I’d see the day!” she remarked.

She went over to gather up a fire for your meal and drinks. Men went about to lounge and laugh with each other. And about were women. Their shoulders exposed, and dresses cut to show more of their decolletage. Would they laugh at you? No…they were focused on drying their laundry. Or their eyes would turn up to you, nodding heads in acknowledgment before returning to their business. Misteress Quickly arrived and handed you both cups of wine or “sack.” It felt cheaper than what you drank at home-but stronger, burning down your belly.

Then, finally, one approached you. Her head tilted in curiosity. She had unbrushed blonde hair and a dirty dress that revealed her shoulders. She put her hands on her hips.

“Why- you’re the lady Y/N, ain’t you?” she asked.

“Yes, yes I am. Pleased to meet you. What is your name?”

“Eh, call me Doll,” she answered.

It was obvious-A whore! A real one! Flesh and blood! But even if she was one…you still owed her good manners. She looked down and then up at you.

“Why then- good to meet you too. I can tell already you’ve never had to put a toe here- but need not fear. We’re a merry bunch. Harmless. Everyone’s all laughter and drinks and all.,” she advised.

“That…that sounds nice…” you replied.

She went up to you, gently slapping your arm to hold it. Speaking already as if you were an old friend.

“But you don’t have to be so all ‘yes my lord’ and ‘no my lord,’ here. Some old goat bothers you, you shove ‘im off. Here…have yourself a drink…”

“I…I’ve never met a…a whore before…” you commented.

“Why, now you have. Don't be scared- I don’t bite,” she said.

Mistress Quickly handed you a cup. Hal was already teasing a serving man named Francis with how many times he could run about.

“Do you…like what you do?” you asked Doll.

“When the man’s nice, like my dear old Jack here” she gestured to Falstaff. “You get enough to get by.”

“Are you scared of having a baby?” you asked.

“You learn all the herbs and tricks to stop that. Most men want you to pleasure them with your mouth, anyways- can’t have a baby there,”

You looked down at your cup, warm with embarrassment. Then you asked further, lowering your voice.

“Have you…been with Hal?”

She let out a little a small smile. She didn’t lower her voice.

“Course I have! Yes-some of the women say he visited them. He’s a regular!” she told you.

“Doll, What was he…he like? Does it…does he hurt you?” you asked agian in a quite voice.

“Hurt! Oh no! He’s sweet as can be! He won’t hurt you- unless you ask him to give you a good slap as he’s ridin’ you!”

She laughed at your embarrassed look.

“I’m…I’m his intended so…I wanted to know, to be ready…” you explained.

“Oh! Nervous for your duty and all that!? Well, I’ll tell you- he is a good man. And he’ll be good to you when it’s your turn. Now…what do you think of the sack?”

You took another sip of your cup.

“It’s…it’s so good!”

“Try it with honey-it’s even better!”

She showed you a honey jar and poured a little in your cup. And yes- it was even better.

Then in stumbled an old man. So bulbous and a face so red he reminded you of a tomato. His white hair and great white beard, boasting to a crowd.

“Three men! Oh no- I tell you- it was five men, hm yes! Five men I defeated there!” he bragged to the dirited companions surrounding him, all with amused looks.

Then his eyes lit up, seeing you.

“Falstaff…this is Y/N”

“Yes, and when I saw those six men, I-”

The man called Falstaff paused his bragging and turned to see you. He put his hands over his hips to look at you. You curtsied again.

“Pleased to meet you, sir.” you said.

The old man, plumper than a peach with a long grey beard and a red face went to you. He looked you up and down. Then he talked-talked so much you didn’t have time to reply.

“Hmmm, ah, yes. This is the Y/N-the famous Y/N, lady Y/N. Yes-how much I see already. Her hands positioned to hold- the little smile, her posture-mmph, can tell already where she’s been. One of those convent girls. But if that is who will make Hal die on his wedding night, he will die smugly… I tell you, sweet wag-”

You turned your eyes down before the floor. Falstaff was talking so boldly of…le petit mort in a public space! But you should have guessed from the whores how open everything was here. Hal blushed and put his head down. You looked away. Falstaff released a large laugh at your reaction.

The old knight turned to Hal and patted his shoulder.

“I’ve conquered many a heart in my day. Oooo, old Jack Falstaff has ways with women. Hmm- the letters I’d send them. There is a Lady Ford and a Lady Page and with one letter to each, I’ll cuckold their husbands easily! So- here’s my advice, wag. Give her a sweet word, a letter -and she’ll be yours. I can show you the format- yes, yes. No woman can resist the love of the knight, Falstaff…I doubt even less this-”

He pinched Hal’s cheek.

“-Handsome, young prince here!”

He handed you the letters he planned on sending them. To your immense surprise, it was the same one only the names were switched. Before you could comment he got them again and folded them up, putting them in his pocket.

“Hmm- this calls for celebration- for Hal’s marriage and my seduction! Francis! Come over, lad! Give some sack before I die!”

He waddled over to where the cup bearer sat.

“Should we tell him? The letters are the same?” you asked.

“I would rather sit by and watch and laugh at him!” Hal replied.

Then in came a young man with dark hair and dark eyes-slender and with a triangular nose.

“Oh here! A lady is here?! A new lady-” he said.

“Why, Poins-here-I would like you to meet her. This is Lady Y/N.”

You made your curtsies again. He only gave you a cheeky smile.

“Oh, well- tis time!” he muttered.

Hal shot to him with wide, nervous eyes.

“Poins I-”

Poins then swooped you into his arms. You let out a little shreik from the feeling.

“Hal! I have your maid! And now she is mine!” he teased.

So light and fun, you did not feel any fear. He caught you and lifted you above him with his strong arms. You were surprised at his strength- he hoisted you up and began running through the tavern. People laughed as Poins ran about with Hal chasing him and even you couldn’t help but laugh too.

“Oh, Poins, you dog! Let me have her!” Hal cried.

Quickly he ran, you squealed from the feeling. Up high and dangling as Poins ran off. He went to a quick corner in one end and set you down. After seeing that he was hidden, he turned to you.

“He will never admit it-but the man adores you, Y/N!” he confided.

Your jaw dropped.

“He…he what! Since…the bethrothal?” you asked.

“Before that- for several months since he met you! Won’t even touch Doll anymore!”

Shock flooded your system. The words earlier- they made sense.

Poins put up a hand.

“ I swear he’s like some doe-eyed lover in a romance for you! He could hardly speak to you in your bethrothal- you make him nervous, Y/N! He wanted nothing more than you since when you first met! And now he sighs and pines. He blushes like a maiden! And seems half a man whenever your name is brought up! Y/N- And I must tell you something!”

He leaned closer.

“Long before the betrothal was a whisper…there was one night. It was dark and four in the morn. My sweet honey lord was quite drunk. He would sigh into his cup. I had to be fetched to drag him to a bed. Do you know what he was muttering? He cursed into his cup, lamenting “Y/N- sweet creature- Oh, Y/N! Curse the day Fate gives you to another!’ before he fell to the floor. Dear lady-show him a little mercy! Or be clever- Turn this prince into your servant when you can!”

You had no words. Your eyes are wide. Of course…this could be a lie. Just something he was making up to flatter you. To prank you. But, something inside of you was telling you it was truth…if so, why would he lie to you? What would Poins gain?

Then Hal swept in, his face bright red.

“Please, enough! Are you hungry, my lady!? I think you should to dinner- there’s going to be music you might like.” he suggested.

“Of…of course, Hal,” you replied.

He turned around, his eyebrows going up as you used his nickname. The one his friends here called him.

As you reached over, you clasped his hand. Hal went still for a moment, seeing that you eagerly put yours in his. Feeling your touch. Then he went on.

As you ate, you noticed women left with men. They held the hands of their customers and led them to their rooms. Then the moans and grunts and the rhythms of something hitting the walls not long after. Wet sounds, too- without shame of their volume. You swallowed the urge to gasp and looked down in embarrassment. Hal only gave a smirk as he ate on.

“Are they…” you turned to Hal.

“They aren’t reading, I can tell you that…” Hal laughed as he picked up some meat and chewed it in his mouth.

“They’re so…so loud…so…so shameless, I never….Wouldn’t they be embarrassed?” you asked.

Yet part of you…you would never admit it…the sounds also…you liked them. You…envied them. And with Hal so near. His leather just brushed against your arms.

“When one finds pleasure here, they don’t feel ashamed of it. They just enjoy it.”

“Isn’t it…sinful?” you asked.

“Sinful for how their bodies react when they touch each other? How God made them? If they agree to it, it cannot be, I think…”

Both of you finished your meals. The sounds of their pleasure became dimmer. You heard people get out instruments and play them. There was starting to be laughter. A gentleman with a large and red nose- Bardolph, went up and greeted Hal. As Hal went up to welcome his friend, you suddenly felt a tug on your arm.

There was a gentleman at least ten years your senior. He had sharp eyes and his strong arm pulled you closer. He gave you a wide, lascivious smile as he handed you several coins.

“Here, girl…” he said.

“Sir…what is this?” you asked, looking at the coins.

“This, this is for you, of course, my dear.”

“For me?” you repeated.

It then hit you why.

He grabbed your arms.Panic surged through your system. He tried to drag you off to the nearest dark corner, but you forced your feet still. Tugging at him, struggling to break off. You managed out of his arms, and then he grabbed your hand. But you stayed still. A glimpse at Doll Tearsheet and your heart was racing.

“Sir- there’s been a mistake! I’m a lady! I am not a whore!” you stated.

“Ah, the whore thinks she can refuse, eh?! Why else would Misteress Quickly bring a new beauty to The Boar’s Head!” he asked.

“I’m just visiting, sir! Doll is right over there! And plenty of others could use it more than me!” you cried. Glancing towards the other women.

Doll’s head perked up and she sensed something amiss. Even the whores looked among each other in seriousness once they realized what was happening.

“This money’s not for Doll, it’s for you. You would be a delight in bed tonight!”

Doll touched the arm of the prince by Bardolph, alerting him.

You were ready to fight him, ready to run, then in came Hal. He whipped out his dagger and pointed it to the man’s nose. He jumped off. Doll ran forward and pulled you away, pulling you into a protective hug.

“Leave her be- you miscreant!”

The villain held up his hands and backed off slowly.

“Why, your little grace..what else have you to do with this woman? I was about to pay for her, like any other man here. Why do you act thus?”

The music paused and eyes turned. Amused and worried, as to what would happen next. Would a fight break out? Would there be more men who thought they could be your “customers?” You cowered further into Doll, clinging to her. Oh dear God, how bad this was getting!

Your heart raced. Hal glanced at you. You looked at Hal with wide eyes. He then unsheathed his dagger and looked at the man. Then Hal made his reply.

“Because she is my whore for tonight!”

The earth stopped turning. You could hear your fast heartbeat and your jaw dropped. Hal went up to you. With great strength, he pulled you from Doll’s arms to his. In a second, before you could process it, he sat down on the nearest surface and pulled you to his lap. You made a small gasp at the feeling. He wrapped an arm possessively around you.

Then he looked thunderously at the tavern. They were silent as he made a declaration.

“I bought her company all this evening. Tonight, she is mine. And if any man here thinks they can dare touch what is mine, their head will be lobbed off under order of the Prince of Wales- is that clear!?”

He nodded his head, and the other wide-eyed men swallowed and took note.

Mistress Quickly scurried towards the musicians.

“Play! Play! Oh- give us a song! Something merry!” she insisted.

They played and the tension relaxed. People went back to their drinking and their business. But you remained sitting on Hal.

“Play along,” he whispered into your ear.

But sitting on his lap… It was making you…feel something. Something you couldn’t quite name. Your heart was beating even harder. Your body felt like it was with fever. And as for between your legs, it was stirring, something, something you had never felt before-and you wanted more of it. He was right there, beneath you. You felt his hands go around to your back.

Others were siting at Hal’s table. You both glanced to see whores with their customers- they were kissing.

He eyed you and them. Then, he touched touched your chin. He asked.

“A kiss for me, my beauty?”

Enough so that no one would suspect anything.

“I, uh-yes,” you replied.

Then he pulled you in for a kiss. A deep, passionate kiss. Feeling his soft lips, the wine on his breath and tasting rich, like you could become drunk from him-his touch alone was making you feel intoxicated already. You tugged at him, and he kept a hand at your back to secure you. You sighed from it. Groaning from it. Then he released. His pupils were wide and both of you were catching your breaths.

“Hal…”

You then gathered your skirt in your hands and looked down. What scared you was how much you liked touching him. How…how wonderful this felt. How…nice. Something between your legs was stirring. It was getting wet and you sensed it was not with urine or menstrual blood.

Hal then smiled at his companions at the table and raised a glass to them.

“Y/N…my pretty whore…to the jewel of the Boar’s Head, Y/N-and a jewel she will be in my bed tonight.”

They cheered as they raised their cups. They had a deep drink. You were handed one and drank too.

“Yes-uh, yes, my lord, I will be-uh, very happy to pleasure you tonight,” you muttered in agreement, before having a sip.

He reached his hand down yours. Then he lifted up your hand to his lips and kissed you on your pulse, keeping a steady hold on it as he lowered.

Then they began to boast of how the wine caskets were being opened and how much they could drink in one go. Laughing, they ran over to sample it.

Hal turned over to you. He had a half-smile

“My lady…your pulse is racing very fast…are you afraid of me?” he asked, though with a touch of cheekiness.

“No,” you answered. But you were afraid of how much you liked this.

“It’s only when I touch you, is it?” you asked.

“Yes…yes it is…” you confessed breathlessly.

He made a small laugh and you could have sworn he was blushing.

“It’s only your body reacting to me. It’s how God, how nature made us- nothing more… Can you continue the pretense? For a little bit?” he asked.

“Yes, Hal, I can,” you said.

He then slid you off of his lap to be on the seat next to him. Once when you thought you could cool your senses, he turned close to you, touching your leg as you were near and wrapping his other arm around you.

“Do you like the wine here, my lady?” he asked.

“I’ve…I’ve never had better, sweeter wine…I haven’t drank too much of it, have I?” you asked.

“If you’re still walking safely, then the answer is no, Y/N,” he replied.

Then the music got to a gig. People got up, getting partners.

“Are they going to dance?” you asked.

“Yes, they are!” he confirmed.

“You took his hands, smiling and getting up.”

“Dance with me Hal- do you know how to?” you asked.

“Yes, yes I do!” he answered.

You led him over as couples gathered around. They managed to kick their steps in time and though he still had trouble with his feet, he was smiling- relaxed. Far more relaxed than he was at any court ball.

At one point you had to turn around. But all you could see was him. Your bodies moved so well together- almost in sync here. You could look at him and do the steps fluidly. Feeling his touch, looking into his eyes. He held your hand…something was different. He kept a hand to your back warm and splayed. It never felt this nice.

Then…it ended. And he was still holding your hand. Catching your breaths and looking into each other's eyes. Hesitantly, he let go.

“Did you like that, my lady?” he asked.

“I…I liked it. Very much.”

You wanted him. You wanted his touch. More of him. He placed you back on his lap as he sat down right next to a table. He nestled into your neck.

“I’ll tell them I’m taking you with me to the palace and then escort you home,” he whispered.

“People are…are leaving more, now…” you commented. The crowds were thinning. The noise was calming down.

“Why…it’s getting late…a tavern has two lives. The celebration and then the dimming, the seriousness, when all is dark and gloomy.”

“It’s still…it’s peaceful… I do like it Hal…”

His lips moved to speak and then froze. He touched your cheek tenderly.

“Y/N…” he muttered.

“What is it?”

His softened to you.

“You’re…you’re a beautiful woman…and…and a good woman, too…” he confessed breathily, earnestly.

“I am your…your whore…” you said aloud, aware there were others. You nervously glanced around and then he held your chin back to face him.

“Y/N, I don’t care what you are now. I just want you to kiss me again.”

You did, feeling him. His mouth. His touch. He pressed himself towards you- to keep you close again. You heard him sigh into it. Then lips releasing- yet it felt too soon. He whispered your name. His voice. And it was not pretense.

“Sweetest of ladies…my dearest…”

Before you knew it, he laid you down on that table. Your breath was knocked out of you. You felt your back hit the wood. He crawled on top of you on the table. Your bare legs peeking from your skirt being hiked up from your position, he touched them, feeling your skin up and down. But his weight didn’t touch you and his hands feeling your thigh made you feel even dizzier. He laid another kiss on you. You couldn’t catch your breath. You couldn’t believe How…good all of this felt. And your folds were wetting already, and not with urine or menstrual blood. He kissed you again. His hips touched yours and you felt your legs go up in instinct. A truly whorelike moan escaped you. You never felt…like this before. This climb up, this ecstasy.

This…need.

He let go of his lips. Then pulled off of you. But The cold air hit you like a shot. But it was still stirring inside of you. This desire…screaming, turning inside you.

You wanted him.

“I’m sorry- I was carried away,” he muttered. “Y/N…I’ll…I’ll stop,”

“No!” you hissed.

He paused, his eyes wide. You went to him and touched his face. You swallowed deeply.

“I…I didn’t want you to stop,” you confessed.

“What?” he mumbled, tilting his head.

The words flew out of you. You gathered yourself on his lap. Feeling your legs wide, the cool air against your soaking, throbbing arousal. You wanted it complete- you wanted him. You touched his face, speaking softly.

“Hal…I don’t want you to stop…what…what is it like? When you lie with a woman? With a whore? How does it feel? I want to know Hal…I want to…I want you to…to do the act on me. Take me…you are my husband already they say…then show me what is it like to bed you. What will it be like to be your wife? Please Hal-they think I’m your whore anyway- so bed me. Tonight. Now. Show me what it is like…” you begged quietly.

His jaw dropped. He pulled you closer. Another hand wrapping around you close. His voice was husky and his eyes gentle.

"Y/N...tonight...You want me... and you trust me?”

“Yes,” you answered.

You felt his breaths shudder. Then he took your hand. He downright pulled you to Mistress Quickley in a corner counting money.

"Is there a spare room?" he asked.

She pointed upstairs.

"For you? The second one you see up there," she explained with a nod.

He paid her. Then, he took your hand and led you up. Your heart was racing, going right up. He opened the door and let you in.

It was a wooden room. Cozy with plenty of space. Humble chairs. A window with brown crossed latched. And a large bed with a feathered mattress and four posters right when you opened the door. Moonlight shone through the windows. There were a few lit candles. Enough to see, but enough it was dim, private, romantic.

Hal, far too tall for the doorframe, ducked under it with a fluid ease.

“Now…at last, we can be alone…and at last…you will be mine in every way…” he husked.

He pushed the door shut as he kept looking into your eyes. Then He grabbed your face and he kissed you. Then he took his hands and put his hips to yours. It caused friction that made you gasp. It nudged a sensitive part of you and you shuddered.

"Is it locked? If...if someone walks in?" you muttered, remembering yourself.

"Will they disturb the Prince of Wales, now? I will send them away..." he whispered.

You felt his fingers going up from your sides, then to touch your waist, gripping it.

"I have someone more important with me now," he said with a smile.

He sat on the bed and pulled you to sit on his leg. You let out a small sound at the feeling. His hand went up your skirt, finding your thighs.

“Spread your legs my dear…let me help you…I will make you ready…” he whispered.

He bunched up your skirt, so you felt it gather around your hips. His hands opened your legs so that you felt his knee right against your bare folds.

The smooth leather of his pants hit against your most private area- wet and sensitive. You felt it…brush against him, the material of his pants. You let out a gasp. So sensitive- stimulated. But you wanted more.

“Do you like this feeling?” he asked.

You nodded. He guided your hips. It moved back, and then forth- making friction and a chill ran against you. You let out a small gasp.

“H-Hal! That…that feels…feels so good…”

He moved your hips to grind against his thigh.

“There….now darling…ride it like a horse-there,” he said.

He guided your hips to grind against his leg. You placed your hands over his broad, strong shoulders. It was pulling you close. The tension- it was making you gasp. Sounds coming out of you that you never thought you could make-touching him. Even with his codpiece on, you could tell something was stirring inside him too. He gave you another kiss as you rode his leg. Then his hands went over to your blouse. He touched your breasts, giving them a gentle squeeze.

“Are you alright, my lady?” he asked with a smug smile.

You let out a moan as an answer. He grabbed you. He kissed you more as if he was drunk and you were ale. Still clothed entirely and already a mess for each other. His voice low, he said into your ear.

"When I join with you, I'm going to make you cry out louder with pleasure than any whore here ever did. And they will know who gives this to you- your lord. And when I'm inside you, there will be more blessings between your legs than any church could give me…”

He kissed you again. His hand moved up to cup your breasts. He moved them around, feeling them. He moved, a finger playing with the string tie that held it together- your shift beneath he began to unlace the strings of your bodice. You paused, the cool air of your chest as it was lowering for him.

“I didn’t say you could stop…keep going. I’m going to undress you slowly- I want to enjoy every inch of you revealed to me…” he ordered.

You kept grinding.

Your blouse was loose, showing your shoulders. He pressed a kiss onto them that made you sigh out another little groan.

His hands greedily remove your garments. He took off your belt,. The little fingerless gloves joined it’s pile. Then finally his hands went to the collar of your dress and shift, already loose. He pulled your dress over your head. Then, in only your shift, he tugged it down until it pooled over your hips. Your bare breasts and stomach before him. You felt his eyes see you, all of you. You chilled from the cold. But he only smiled. He wrapped both arms around your waist and cupped your cheek. He looked down-seeing your breasts rising with your excited breaths. He licked his lips at Your stomach and Your hips.

“Beautiful…just beautiful…how lucky I am to enjoy you for all of my life now,” he said.

Then he kissed you at the nape between your neck amd shoulder. You sighed into it.

"H-Hal..." you voiced out.

You held onto him.

“What are you thinking, my love?” he asked.

“That…this duty feels…feels nice…That I…I’m going to be your wife and…I should…perform my duty to you…” you voiced out.

He put his hands on your hips and stopped your grinding. Then he took and you half threw you on the bed. He went over to you getting on top of you. You felt his fingers then reach one digit to your folds. You let out a small cry.

"You should know of passion, not duty, in our bed. You should know the ecstasy I can give you every night from now on. would you like that?” he asked.

"Y-Yes...my lord, yes Hal.."

You gasped feeling it. He removed his fingers, slick with your juices. He began to undo his jacket- your wetness grazing the leather and making a small stain. Then removed his black shirt. He went up to you.

He took your hand. He traced the wrist gently with his finger. Then he kissed it.

"There is my little sweetling...such a good little wife she will be…doing everything for her husband…and she will be rewarded…”

You got him, your nails digging into his warm back. He slid a finger back into you. He got it out, then back in. You clutched onto him- feeling him against the lips between your legs as he swirled around. You ground against it, finding even more pleasure.

"Oh...oh Lord....Hal…your fingers are so…so-!”

"Do you like that, my sweet lady, do you enjoy being ruined this way?"

"Yes...yes...more, Hal- I want more!"

“Sweet little bird…so eager, so willing. Willing to please- to let me corrupt her. What would those nuns think of you now, hm? What would they know of what we have here, now? I will enjoy having you- and I will have you every night. How does that sound for Duty, hm?”

He kissed and slid a tongue over yours. He slid another finger, pumping in and out. Your legs had to widen to accommodate him. You made so many noises.

You felt so hot, you felt his weight, shifting on top of you. To kiss you. To adore you. His snaking body grinding against you-he kissed you like you were food. His need. His ache. His hair fell softly through him. He cupped your cheeks and kept kissing you again.He groaned as he kissed

He let go with a smirk on his face. You felt something bubbling inside you- going up.

"I should have…should have taken you on the table...before all of them to watch-"

“Better late than never,” you breathed out, both of you melting into small laughter.

But right before it climbed too high up, he removed his fingers, slick with you. You took his body in. His beautiful, lean body. How soft yet strong he was. So many muscles in just his arm alone. His chest- how beautiful it was. How…broad he was, too. And not just his chest that felt large.

He removed his codpiece and slid off his pants easily. Your eyes went down to that cock-hard and eager and huge. Twitching. You had to swallow a moan from it-how was it going to fit in you? He then slid you down the bed-and he remained standing.

“Yes- look at me, darling. It might hurt a little, sweet wife. I will be slow,” you voiced.

But you were so eager-so desperate-you had to be with him. How warm he felt now- skin against skin. He kissed you once more time, his hips teasing what was to come. Yet he was still remaining standing.

"Here...are you ready, my dear?”

“Yes, yes I am! My lord, please! Please take me!”

You felt his cock teasing against your entrance. He began to graze his hands up and down your thigh. touching up and down them. He looked at your pussy and smiled. Then, positioning your legs already to be between his head. He began to trust in you by sinking in. Inch by agonizing inch, he slowly vanished in.

You let out a cry-a whimper. You had never been filled like this.

“ Oh my god-Hal!”

He groaned, easing him last bit of his cock inside you. The slight pain then began to melt.

“Do you want me to stop?”

The pain was gone-fizzled to pleasure. You were…getting used to him.

“No…no…please…please keep going. Please-”

He backed and then thrust.

“Oh! Oh- yes-yes, Hal-please.”

The began- thrusting slowly inside you. Still standing and you laying down. His hips rocked back. Creating such friction, such heat, like none you have felt. He was groaning hard. Each thrust was better than the last one.

All you could say was a prayer. Simply repeating “please-yes-oh, oh my god-please, Hal, please-yes, there, Hal-”

You were used to it, then he increased the pace. He hissed out your name. He held you still so you had to take all of him- not that you would complain. You felt your voice rising. All you saw was him, felt was him. He was nailing you-he was keeping you right into the end of the bed as he stood. So deep and full were his penetrations. Then his hand slid.

“Ah- yes-Here..my little rose has a rosebud inside her-” he said.

He found your nub, and then began to strum it with his thrusts. Even more pleasure whirled in you- it felt even better.

"Oh! Oh-gods! Hal! Yes! Yes-please-Yes! There!”

"Yes-cry my name, tell all of Boars-nrgh-all of Boar's Head-nrsh-who your lord is..."

Flesh slapped against flesh as he increased his pace. You weren’t sure now- you slide back and forth, whimpering with pleasure.

“You-are-mine-now-nrgh-Gods and-Fuck-yes your lord-yes-gives you-gods-yes,this-fuck-your lord always-always satisfies you-”

His pace increased. He was grunting, moaning. You now understood why the noises came from those rooms-you were making them yourself. He pounded and pounded you into the bed.

“Hal…Hal-something-something in me-it’s…it’s going up…” you whimpered.

He kept strumming you.

“You’re close-close my dear-it’s going to overwhelm you- yes- it’s-it’s me too- give into it-give into it- cry ou t- let it happen-yes-fuck-yes-yes-yes, now, my dear- come now- come now!”

Then finally, you felt it-pleasure bursting, overwhelming you. It hit you so suddenly, so hard, you let out a shout that echoed. You cried out-

“Yes-Hal-Hal!”

With a groan and a thrust, brought on by your own brink, he came. You felt him pump inside you. It was probably lucky to have the wedding in two months- if a child came from this, none but you would know.

He paused, collapsing down onto you. Only to hold you, nestling you close.

“Hal…I…I have no words…” you whispered.

“You cannot ask to break this betrothal…not after what we’ve shared…” he breathed. He then went up to see your face. “Please, Y/N…I…I…”

“I love you too, Hal,” you replied.

He smiled, kissing you. A deep breath of relief through him. He positioned himself there on the bed, holding you for only a bit.

“We…we will have to get home soon…we…we will get in trouble…” you said.

“What sweet trouble it was….but I will see you home safe…” he replied.

He redressed you and you helped redressed him. When it seemed the tavern was asleep without witnesses about the main room, he held your hand and led you back to his horse outside. Eagerly you both galloped, but you laughed as the wind tickled you. You found riding so close to him comfortable now and leaned back against him. An embrace as each landing of the steed’s hooves brought you closer. Then you were brought back home.

He was there at the entrance, knowing the servants would escort you to separate rooms, separate beds. He took your hand and then kissed it. A goodnight promise.

“Sleep well, my lady, he wished.

“Shall I see you tomorrow?” you asked.

“Every day,” he replied with a smile that matched yours.

#prince hal #prince hal x reader #prince hal fanfiction #prince hal imagine #prince hal x you #henry v imagine #tom hiddleston #hollow crown henry v #the hollow crown #hiddlesedit #william shakespeare #angst with a happy ending #prince hal smut #hiddlesverse #the hollow crown henry iv #henry iv #henry iv part 1 #tom hiddleston characters

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dzinahk · 1 year

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Tom Hiddleston and #Baby👶🏻Hiddles in London yesterday 💜💜💜

#tom hiddleston #tomhiddlestonedits #tomhiddleston #tomhiddlestonedit #tom hiddelston loki #twhiddleston #tom hiddleston edit #baby👶🏻hiddles #hiddlesverse

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softomhiddles · 1 year

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Behind the scenes

📸 Tom Hiddleston with Benedict Cumberbatch and director Steven Spielberg on the behind scenes of the movie War Horse

#tom hiddleston #hiddlestoners #hiddlesarmy #hiddlesverse #thomas hiddleston #thomas william hiddleston #twhiddleston #tom hiddleston feature films #war horse #steven spielberg #benedict cumberbatch #behind the scenes

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lulubelle814 · 1 year

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#tom hiddleston #hiddles #twh #hiddleston #loki #tomhiddleston #thomas william hiddleston #twhiddleston #damn hiddleston #hiddlestoners #hiddle #hiddlesarmy #hiddlesverse #thomas hiddleston #loki god of mischief #loki odinson #loki laufeyson #loki love

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lokifanfic2021 · 1 year

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I have a list!!!

#tom hiddleston #tomhiddlesedit #hiddlestoners #tom hiddelston icons #tom hiddelston imagine #hiddlesarmy #hiddleston daily #loki (marvel)#loki 2021 #loki laufeyson #the night manager #tom hiddelston loki #tom hiddelston x reader #hiddlesverse #hot hiddleston #dammit hiddleston #hiddlesedit

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kateslife15 · 1 year

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Coriolanus #tomhiddleston #hiddlestoners #hiddleston #coriolanus

#tom-hiddleston #thomas hiddleston #thomaswilliamhiddleston #hiddlesarmy #hiddleston daily #hiddlestoners #hiddlesverse #hot hiddleston #thomas william hiddleston #dammit hiddleston #tom hiddleston #coriolanus

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greatnerdpastawolf · 2 years

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This is what happens when you have multiple discussions about Tom Hiddleston playing a serial killer...

#tom hiddleston #loki #hiddlestoners #hot hiddleston #hiddlesverse #thomas william hiddleston #tom hiddleston characters #hiddlesarmy

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vbecker10 · 19 hours

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Talk to Me (Part 3)

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 (in progress)

Pairing: Loki x female reader (Y/N)

Summary: Your mind is racing in too many directions and you have no answers. Are your nightmares are returning? Will Loki pull away now that you saw his Jotun form? Will you ever get the courage to tell him you love him?

Meanwhile, Loki battles with similar concerns. What can he do to ensure you feel safe and keep away your nightmares? How will he explain his Jotun form to you without you thinking he's a monster? Will you ever love him the way he loves you?

Warnings: anxiety, feeling of being alone, fear of running a friendship, Loki being insecure about being a frost giant... soooo much angst I'm sorry lol

A/N: Don't worry, Part 4 is the last part and I'm going to post it a day or so after I post this so you won't have to wait too long 💚

His smile vanishes and he immediately shifts back into his Asgardian form, pulling his fingers free from your other hand. "I'm sorry," he says nervously as he gets up and walks away from you.

"For what?" you ask getting up but he ignores you. "Wait, Loki," you call as he heads towards his bedroom and pauses under the door frame. You walk towards him and say, "Please don't do that. Don't shut me out." You slip your hand into his and he looks at you. "You promised you would talk to me, remember?"

He sighs, "I did promise that, didn't I?"

You nod and try to smile, hoping he will open up to you. You are always worried Loki will retreat behind the walls you've worked so hard to break down.

A small smile tugs at his lips and he says, "I don't know what I did to deserve such a fiercely devoted friend."

You shrug and hold your forced smile as you feel a twinge of pain in your chest when he refers to you simply as his friend.

"We will talk in the morning, I promise," he says as he moves to pull you into a hug. "You need to rest."

You nod and let go of his hand, turning towards the living area. Your heart sinks and you feel a wave of a guilt and concern when you see the state of the couch for the first time. The blanket Loki had given you is in a pile on the floor but you can see several large holes burned into it. The fabric of the cushions are singed far worse than you thought and the wall behind the couch is lightly coated in ash and smoke.

"I didn't realize it was this bad," you say in a stunned voice. You cover your mouth in shock as you realize how close you had come to making your nightmare a reality. Looking at Loki, you lower your hand, "I'm so sorry." You begin the fight to hold back the tears that swiftly push their way to the surface.

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he puts his arms around you, turning you away from the couch. "It is just a piece of furniture," he waves one hand towards the couch. With a light green glow, the blanket vanishes from sight, both the couch and wall return to their previous, un-burnt state. Loki rubs your back in a soothing manner and you lift your head to look up at him. A single tear escapes and he wipes it away before you can hide it from him. "The important thing is that you are okay," he tells you with a caring look.

Loki offers to walk you back to your room and you quickly agree, still feeling the lingering nervousness from your panic attack and nightmare, you are not ready to be alone yet.

As you walk down the hall quietly, his fingers brush against the back of your hand lightly. You want to take his hand but you are unsure how he will react. Would he squeeze your hand as your ever supportive friend then let go as he had done many times before? Would he pull away from you with the forced, polite smile you've seen him use in dozens of interviews? He still seems a bit distant after you had seen his Jotun form, what if he didn't want to be close to you now?

Loki looks down at how closely your hands are and wishes he could reach out for yours. He tries to picture the smile that would light up your face if he was to take your hand and bring it to his lips, kissing your soft skin lightly.

When you reach your door, you pause briefly before opening it.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

"I'm afraid to go back to sleep," you admit. "I haven't been in so long but I just... what if it happens again? What if the nightmares are coming back? I don't want to go back to the way it was."

"I'm sure it was just a one time thing. You were over tired from your mission and we both know you have been under a lot of stress lately," Loki tries to reassure you but he can tell it does nothing to ease your fear. He understands better than anyone in the Tower how your nightmares had affected you.

You would stay awake for days at a time when he first met you, fearful that if you closed your eyes for even a second the dreams would return. Loki had helped you discover that your nightmares were triggered by your anxiety, stress and exhaustion. Unfortunately, this meant the more tired or worried you were, the more likely it would be that your sleep would be interrupted.

"Last time they started it was just like this," you tell him. You begin to fear that you were wrong to think your issues sleeping were truly behind you.

Loki is quiet for a moment, one of his hands settles on your lower back gently and he moves it up and down slowly while he thinks. "Would you feel more comfortable if I stayed?" he offers for the first time since your nightmares subsided months ago.

"Yes," you answer without thinking. "I mean... if you don't mind, I know my couch isn't really that great. You're way too tall for it," you hold back a smile remembering the last time Loki feel asleep there, his long legs hanging off the end of what was more of a love seat than a couch.

Loki takes a step towards you, his fingers touching your chin to gently raise your eyes to meet his, "Have you ever known me to offer to do something if i didn't want to do it?"

"No," you smile, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks at how close he is standing to you. You hope he doesn't notice but the way his eyes flicker to your cheeks you know he did.

You open your door and he takes your hand as if it was the most natural thing he has ever done. It is hard to focus on anything other than the feeling of his thumb running slowly along your knuckles. You follow him into your apartment without another word.

You tell him you will find him an extra pillow but as soon as the words leave your lips he smirks and you remember who you are talking to. "Don't worry, I've got them," he responds as he conjures a pillow and blanket to place on the couch.

"Right," you smile awkwardly. You wait a moment but when he sits on the couch you realize he isn't planning on giving you a hug before you leave him for the night. You always need just one more hug but you can't bring yourself to ask for one right now.

"Sleep well, Y/N," he tells you.

"Goodnight Loki," you lift your hand to give him a small wave before disappearing into your room.

You lay on your bed and pull the sheets tightly around yourself but you couldn't feel any more awake. The second you close your eyes, your heart races as the faded memories of your nightmare flash across your mind. You open them quickly and look up at the bare ceiling with a groan. You try to push aside your fear that the nightmares are returning, hoping that Loki is right.

Loki... your thoughts stray to the God curled up in your living room. Why had he been so upset when you saw his Jotun form? That's who he truly is, isn't it? He shouldn't be ashamed of that or try to hide it from everyone, you think. But even if he doesn't want the whole world to see him, that shouldn't include you, should it? You weren't just anyone, you were his friend, his best friend. The person he had promised to share everything with. Maybe you aren't as close as you think, maybe that is a part of himself he will never share with you. Or maybe he is waiting to share it with someone he loves and trusts but that person isn't you, you think as you roll over, clinging to your pillow.

Loki conjures a book and lays on your couch with one arm behind his head. He is comfortable enough with his legs bent to fit better on the small piece of furniture but he feels as if something is missing. He realizes he is missing how it felt to have his arms around you, he hadn't hugged you goodnight as he typically would and it left a hollow feeling in his chest. He didn't want to add any more fuel to your already fearful mind and he is unsure how you will truly feel about his Jotun form once you are more rested and able to absorb what you saw.

He closes his book and places it on your coffee table, knowing he will be unable to focus on reading tonight. He is too angry with himself for slipping and revealing his Jotun form. Loki wants nothing more than to have you feel comfortable with him, how could have risked everything like that? How could he have been so stupid and reckless? You were at your most vulnerable and you needed him but he turned into a monster, he scolds himself. What if the sight of him had scared you? You could have hurt yourself with your powers and he knows he would never have been able to forgive himself for that.

He looks up, his attention pulled towards the sound of your bedroom door opening. Sitting up, Loki asks, "Are you okay?"

You shrug and put your arms around yourself. You aren't sure how to explain to Loki how lonely and anxious you feel.

"Do you want to sit out here with me for a bit?" he asks, patting the cushion next to him invitingly.

You nod and sit next to him, he moves the blanket to cover both of your laps and he puts his arm around your shoulders. Instantly, you feel some of the tension begin to leave your body as you relax a bit. "I know I need to sleep but I just can't," you tell him. "It's like my mind won't shut off. I feel bad keeping you awake like this, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he tells you sincerely. "You stayed awake with me plenty of times when we were working through my nightmares. You are the only reason I am able to sleep now," he reminds you. "What kind of friend would I be if I didn't do the same for you?"

"Thank you Loki," you look up at him with a small, forced smile.

"That is not all that is wrong though, is it?" he asks but you shake your head. "I know you Y/N," he touches your cheek. "I know there is something aren't saying."

You look down, fidgeting with your fingers, you can't help but hate and love how well he knows you. You know you need to tell him something or he will keep asking what is wrong. How are you supposed to tell him your smile faltered because you dislike being reminded that you are nothing more than his friend?

"I was wondering..." you pause as your mind tries to work quickly, "Since neither of us are going to sleep any time soon, maybe we could have that talk now? About what happened with your Jotun form?"

His body tenses and you worry you have made a mistake. Maybe you should have tried to lie about something else or just gone back to your room. After a long stretch of silence he finally nods.

"I never meant for you to see me that way, ever," he says as he shakes his head. Loki shifts, leaving an empty space between you both on the couch. It is only a few inches but it feels like he is miles away. "I wasn't thinking," he continues. "When I saw you surrounded by the flames I knew I needed to help you, to make sure you were safe and the fire was out but I hadn't intended to let... that out." He flinches when he refers to his Jotun form.

"I guess maybe I just don't understand why you want to keep that part of you locked away," you move closer to him.

"The Jotun are monsters, Y/N," he states. "I'm a monster. My father- Odin," he quickly corrects himself, "Made that perfectly clear to Thor and me when we were growing up. He used to tell us stories about them, the same way humans tell their children ghost stories. Jotuns are too be feared and hated and I never wanted you to know that side of me. I don't want you to be afraid of me."

"I admit, I don't know the first thing about Jotuns," you reach for his hand. "But I know you." He looks at you, his eyes are full of pain. "I have never been afraid of you Loki, you know that. Even the first time we met... when you kinda threw me through a wall," you try to joke.

"I have apologized for that," he says defensively.

"I know, I was kidding," you try to explain but you obviously missed the mark. You sigh, "Loki, listen to me. You are not a monster, I don't care what that ass Odin said when you were a kid. You are the most caring person I have ever met. No one has ever treated me this kindly or has put so much effort into trying to understand me."

He smiles as you talk and you can see in his eyes he believes you. "I have met monsters, Loki," you remind him. "We both have fought them on our missions and you are nothing like them. You care too deeply to ever become anything like them."

You put your arms around him and rest your head against his chest. He hugs you back and quietly says, "Thank you, Y/N."

Loki closes his eyes, feeling himself relax for the first time since your nightmare. He takes a deep breath, fighting the urge to tilt your head up so he can press his lips to yours. He wants to be closer to you but instead he places a soft kiss on the top of your head. He cannot risk your friendship, especially not in this moment so he settles for any affection he can as you hug him tighter, your body pressed so perfectly against his.

"You are without a doubt, the best thing that has ever happened to me and I do know what I would do without you in my life," he says, meaning every word.

You smile, knowing how much Loki appreciates you and you feel guilty wishing for more. You want him to say that he loves you, that he wants you in his life as more than his friend but he doesn't and he won't. You push down the torn feelings you have and tell him, "I will always be here for you."

"And I will always be here for you, Y/N," he responds. His body aches to shift forward and seal your promises with a kiss but he still doesn't move.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence he says, "You need to get some rest. You've had a long night."

"We both have," your agree but you still aren't sure you will be able to sleep. You get up from the couch and walk back towards your room but you stop after only a few steps. You turn to look back at Loki and tell him, "I don't want to be alone."

"I'm here," he promises as he sits on your couch.

You bite your lip, holding back the words you want to say. You want to ask him to hold you while you sleep. He had made you feel so protected and safe after your panic attack and you need to feel like that again.

He gets up from the couch and walks towards you when you don't say anything in response. "Would you feel better if I slept in your room tonight?" he asks and you hear a hint of nervousness in his voice, not something you are used to with Loki.

The answer leaves your mouth before you even realize it, "Yes."

You take Loki's hand and lead him into your room. Pulling back the covers you make eye contact with him and realize he looks almost as anxious as you feel. You lay on your side near the edge of the bed, facing away from Loki quietly as he gets in on the other side.

Loki's heart skips a beat with nervous excitement, he truthfully hadn't thought you would accept his offer. As much as he wants to hold you all night he is worried about what will happen after. He fears this will be the only time you allow him into your bed and he knows it will not be enough for him. One night spent near you could never be enough but he will savor every second.

An empty space forms between you and Loki for a few moments then you feel the mattress dip as he rolls over towards you. Without thinking, you shift closer to him and your breath catches when you feel his chest flush to your back. He drapes his arm over you, pulling you flush to his body.

"Is this okay?" he asks quietly in your ear, he hopes you can't feel how quickly his heart is beating.

"It's perfect," you smile, keeping your eyes closed tight, trying to etch this feeling into your mind. You lay completely still, feeling the way his legs tangle with yours loosely, feeling his chest rise and fall as he breaths slowly, your hand covers his which rests lightly on your stomach. You could stay cuddled in his arms forever but you know it won't last. Come morning, he will release you and you will return to sleeping alone.

"Can I ask you something?" you say a few minutes later in a low voice.

"You can ask me anything," he promises.

I hope you liked this!! Please like, share and comment if you did 💚💚 Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist!

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thelonelyfirefly · 1 year

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Thanks Tom, I love you. ;)

My wish is for peace, cozy mornings, and rain on the rooftops for you all and me

#tom hiddleston #birthday #wishes #rainymood #pride month #happy pride 🌈#love #i love him #hiddlesverse #thomas william hiddleston #hiddle hugs #warm and snuggly

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smolvenger · 9 months

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Twenty-Seven Wounds (Coriolanus x fem! Reader)

Summary: In ancient times, in a place that calls itself Rome, you find yourself married to the general Caius Martius or Coriolanus. He has fought so many battles he has twenty-seven scars on his body. Scars that he has not shown you yet...

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut, discussions of war, violence. Drunkenness and brief harassment but the asshole is put in his place. Grumpy and Sunshine trope. I do my best to write Caius accurately. But at the end of the day, it's MY indulgent fic and here he's a big tough warmonger who becomes a simp that kisses the ground his cinnamon roll wife walks on. References to the play and to ancient Roman customs and words. A fake kidnapping.

Word Count: 3K

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr

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

“General Martius has asked me for your hand in marriage and I consented,” your father announced.

Your vision went dizzy. You had to sit down. You knew many things about General Caius Martius, otherwise known as Coriolanus since his great victory in the land of Corioles.

As you sat back down to process the news, you recounted every instance of interaction. You met him in the chariot races. Menenius introduced you to each other- the senator's bald head shining like a crown and his chest as puffed as a peacock's.

"This is the great General Martius! And General- this is the lady Y/N-isn't she one of our city's great beauties, hm?"

"Sir! Uh-I-thank you!" you replied, very flustered and surprised he would say that.

General Martius made no reply. Only a polite greeting.

You talked with him at dinners. The odd banquet or party. Saw him in the audience of the Gladiator fights, plays, or chariot races.

But Caius was no run-of-the-mill man. He was a renowned general in the army and known as the fiercest warrior Rome could wish for. Notoriously ferocious on a battlefield. A man who breathed war. He was also notorious for his arrogance and stubbornness and sometimes his anger. You knew he was sensitive to smells- his nose would often crinkle as he walked by the streets. You knew his mother, Volumina. You knew he enjoyed the Gladiator fights. Though you sometimes turned away when it got too gruesome. If it was too much, he would escort you out. When you came to chariot races, he would be there.

He was still an incredibly attractive man- dark reddish-blonde hair. Beautiful blue eyes. Tall, broad, and striking. When the betrothal was confirmed, he visited where you stayed. Your father joined your hands together. He held them with a delicacy. He then brought them up and kissed them.

“Y/N…I promise you-I will be an honorable husband. You will be protected. You will want for nothing. And they will revere you as they do for me.”

He brought you a little closer so that your hands became entwined. You were not scared of marrying him. No- what scared you was that you were not scared. What scared you was how badly you wanted to marry him. You should have been frustrated that your father agreed to the match without consulting you. All fathers had complete and total say over their children’s marriages…but you were not angry in the least.

“You will be…gentle to me, Caius?” you asked quietly.

“Yes. Yes, I will,” he replied. He placed another hand over yours.

“Ah! What a pretty picture! Come- let us make an offering to the household gods! Let us pray for a blessing for our Y/N and her warrior groom!” your father announced, rubbing his hands together.

Your wedding happened not too long after. It seemed your family was in a rush to have a connection to the wealthy and famous general.

After the ceremony at the temple of Hera, all of you sat down at your house to a feast. Caius- no, no longer “General Martius” or “General Coriolanus” but just Caius!- sat down next to you. He leaned back and kept an arm around you, his hand rubbing against the side of your arm.

One guest with more wine in his body than decency spittled something that made your stomach curl in offense. He staggered before your seat and pointed a finger at you.

“Ah! Where can I get a twin of this pretty nymph like Martius’s? Hm? Her breasts will look even better without her wedding gown over them!”

Before you could say a word, Caius lept to his feet. He ran before the drunkard and yanked him by the collar to his face.

“You will speak with respect to the wife of a general or you will remain quiet!” he barked at the rude guest.

The room went quiet. You knew if the impulse struck him, Caius would get out his sword and have the bastard sliced in half. The man began to tremble and utter apologies as a friend of his took him away.

“Everyone…let’s have some music now! Before we close the feast-I think it would soothe everyone!” you announced.

Glancing at the musicians frozen with their lyres, they began to play again. You returned to your seat as did your new husband.

“Would you have be different than I am, Y/N?” he whispered to you.

“You were only protecting me…how could I be angry at you or want you different?” you asked.

You gave him a peck on the cheek. He blinked rapidly. You saw him turn bright red and his frown melted into a tiny smile.

Right as the feast started to wind down, your heart began to drum in your chest. There was the staged kidnapping- for all of Rome knew that the best bride was a maiden who was unwillingly taken from home. So every consenting bride had to pretend as a ceremony for the end of the celebrations. Put on a show good enough to fool the gods for luck.

Getting up from the table, Caius went to the other end of the room to exit through the door. Your mother put her arms around you. He then stormed in on cue like in a Euripedian tragedy.

“This house has something I want! Give me Y/N or I will kill every being who keeps me from her!” he announced in pretense.

You could feel yourself trying not to laugh. Your own mother was trying a forced frown.

“Please- mother- don’t let the General take me!” you wailed dutifully.

He went up with his sword out so others stepped back. Then he sheathed it and looked at you, licking his lips.

“I am here! I claim this woman- she is mine now- for my house and my bed!” he declared.

He took you easily from your mother’s arms and then slung you over his shoulders. You let out a brief squeal- trying to make your laughter sound like tears.

“Mother! Mother! Help!” you cried out in pretend. Glad no one could see your smile as he carried you out. And especially glad you could still ogle his pert behind from where you were dangling for the rest of the “kidnapping.”

He carried you down the streets over his shoulder. Then when you arrived at his place, he transferred you so that he carried you with an arm over your back and the other supporting your legs. For it was bad luck for a young bride to trip. And he kept you in his arms as he ignored his mother and the slaves greeting him and took you straight to his bedroom without a word. Everyone gave each other a look and then went on with their business.

Caius’s restraint left him as soon as he entered that room. He set you on your feet and then grabbed you. He kissed you so much you could already feel his tongue inside.

“Gods, you are mine now…” he whispered.

He held you so close. You could feel his heat, his desperation, his need to have you. He kept a hand on your back and kept you close. You were getting wet with each touch of his.

He went down to the belt that held your dress. It was tied in a special knot for today- The knot of chastity. And symbolically, one only your husband was allowed to undo. Your heart raced as he began to touch it, a thumb going over the long threads.

“Caius…I want you…yes-it’s our wedding night, please…” you heard yourself voice.

He pulled and fought at the knot almost so much, that he swore that it wasn’t coming off fast enough. That he would need a knife. Then he used his thumb to edge it out so it would loosen. With several swift tugs and a grunt of his, he yanked the knot undone and the cloth belt came off. He eagerly found the edges of your clothes.

“Yes…my wife…”

You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him again. He then removed the lower parts of his clothes.

There were slaves playing music in the other room. He preferred some quiet music in the evenings. And tonight was no exception. They were to keep playing. To hear him take his wife- no, you. To hear Your cries of pleasure among the soft strings. They were playing when he led you to his lectus and your marriage was passionately consummated.

You adjusted to married life surprisingly well. And in private, Caius was not the fearsome dragon some heralded him to be. Yes- he was arrogant and stubborn at his worst. But he could be…persuaded, you discovered.

“And the peasants were crying that they wanted more grain! Grain from our storages!” he reported to you one day over dinner.

“Well…couldn’t we spare just a little bit, dear husband?” you asked.

A Slave brought you a bowl of dates and then left to refill your wine glasses.

“For the rabble? No-let them hang!” he dismissed.

He tore a bite of meat from its leg and chewed on it like a bear with prey. But you kept your eyes soft and gave him a smile.

“They’re only hungry. Even I become cross when I am hungry! And we have so much food here. Really, it’s more than I can eat! And there are always so many leftovers…surely….just a little grain could be spared, Caius? It would warm my heart to see so many hungry people be fed…they do not complain without reason…perhaps then they won’t complain about you anymore. Just a little bit of grain, Caius? Please?”

You saw his shoulders start to sag. With a deep sigh, he gestured to one of his slaves

“Tell them that five percent of the grain stored will be gathered and distributed to the protesters,” he said.

You smiled as you looked down.

He was content to sit quietly beside you in some evenings. You could weave your loom and the man who craved battles would merely go over parchments beside you. His desire was like that of an animal though. It only took a look or a smile from you before he was on you, kissing you, and pulling at your clothes to have them come off. The nights when you both did not make love, he still wanted to touch you. He would pull you onto him to rest your head against his chest. You would permit him to rub your back with his hand and wrap his arms protectively around you. As if not even Zeus himself could get past Caius Martius to the treasure that lay in his arms. He often would touch you gently. Even as you walked past him, he would softly just touch a cloth of your skirt, feeling the fabric slip through his fingers longingly as you had to leave.

There was one dinner where your mother, Volumina, decided to put you to the test. You knew it. As you sat down on the floor enjoying your food, she turned to you and declared something most people would find offensive.

“Ah! I hope in the next battle that my son will receive another scar! Don’t you, Y/N?”

On one hand, you did not want your husband to suffer. But this was Volumina. Her whole life’s purpose was to create a soldier of her boy. To serve the wars in her own way through what she could do behind the scenes. To see him either victorious or dead was her life’s work. Glory in battle meant glory for her and the Martius family.

Carefully, you added a reply with a dutiful nod of your head.

“Yes- should the scars not be fatal, I see them as badges of honor. And if they were-I am proud to have a husband willing to give his life for the safety of Rome’s people. And if I must sacrifice him for all our sakes, I will make it,” you replied.

“Ah! What a sweet woman you have for your wife, Caius!” Volumina praised, her stained lips curved into a smile.

There, the middle ground. It wasn’t that bad. But as she slid aside her plate, her talk turned. She looked at you, dressed in her dark clothes with her dark hair done up. Her smile was still big on her creamy face.

“Did you know, Y/N, that my son bears a total of twenty-seven scars from battle!?” she asked.

“No-he never told me it was that many,” you said with a quick glance at him.

“Yes! And may Ares bring him twenty-seven more!” Volumina said.

But you had never seen such scars.

After a few months, you realized something- you had never seen him bare. That was odd. Most women would tell you of how the first time they saw Octavius Cato’s or so-and-so’s willy they burst into laughter. But even the hundreds of times you made love, Caius kept his shirt on. He preferred to bathe alone, never going into the bathhouses. The times he did bathe, sometimes you heard him groan in pain outside the room. As if the scars were still fresh. He always went behind a screen to dress. In bed, he only wore a toge that had short sleeves. You saw a cut over his shoulder peep out. It looked almost like the crack of an earthquake on the soil. But whenever you tried to nudge it in bed, he would move your hand away, asking you to stop.

You were still unequal. He had kissed every inch of your bare skin. But you had not even seen it. As frightening as that scratch looked, you had to see more.

That is, until one night. It was uncomfortably warm. You sweated on your shared lectus, tossing and turning in discomfort. You turned over to see Caius was still awake. He then rolled over of you confirming to the other that you were not asleep. You slept in your underclothes and he still had that toge. And he was sweating.

“I think you should undress,” you said.

He turned around, though you could smell his sweat dripping down.

“It’d be better if I didn’t,” he huffed.

You touched his shoulder, turning him to face you.

“Caius…why do you show no one your scars?” you asked.

He swallowed.

“They’re….they’re only when Rome needs to see them. When they lose sight. When they lose respect.” he said. r.

“Am I not part of Rome, too?” you asked.

He paused.

“Yes…yes you are…” he answered.

“You’ve never…bared yourself to me like I have to you,” you commented.

“They’re gruesome. It would…it would have scared you, I thought. You wouldn’t want to sleep beside them…too gruesome…”

He sat up.

“I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight-you don’t want to look at them,” he announced.

But you stopped his hand and kept him still.

“Caius…may I see them, please?” you asked.

You gingerly touched his chest, right over the toga he wore to bed. You only saw the scratches around his collarbones.

“Are you afraid?” he asked.

“No. They’re a part of you…I want to see them…” you urged.

His eyes softened. Then you both sat up in bed.

“Then…then remove it for yourself and see.” he permitted.

You went to the corner edges of his own robe. He helped you as you lifted it over his head. You then got a candle to see it better.

You knew he was a strong man, but there were so many scratches, lashes, and cuts you could not make out the muscles clearly. There were so many cuts and lashes-they looked so dark across his skin. All over his torso. Then there were the newer ones from the battle at Corioles-they still looked red. You set the candle back down on the table near the bed.

“I understand if you wish not to lie with me anymore…I will make arrangements where-”

“No, you don’t have to!” you interrupted.

For once in his life, Caius Martius Coriolanus closed his mouth and he listened.

“Twenty-seven of them. Twenty-seven times you have been wounded. Twenty-seven times you could have died…and didn’t,” you said. “Can I touch them?”

“Yes,Y/N, you can…”

You lightly took your hand and felt the bumps and edges. He flinched only slightly, then relaxed into it. You could feel the warmth of the sweltering night on him.

“Caius…may I kiss them?” you asked.

“Yes…”

You gently kissed the back of your three fingers and pressed them over the lower scars. You knew putting your mouth lower would stir something in him. Now was not the moment…and it seemed he would agree. His breathing was deep as your kissed fingers touched the lower ones. Such chaste, light kisses like a butterfly's wing.

As they moved up to his chest, you peppered one kiss across one. Then another. You paused, your mouth over his skin, his steady pulse shaking from your touch.

“Each one…you survived. You defeated your enemies…you protected your allies…and you protected me…and you survived, Caius,” you whispered.

He put a hand to touch your cheek and you leaned into it.

“Dulcissima…my sweetest…thank you…”

“Do they hurt right now?” you asked.

His voice smoothed and spoke with such tenderness as you had never heard before. He put an arm around you as you kept kissing them.

“No…they never felt more relieved…my wife, her kisses have their own little medicine…”

You moved up to his shoulder from the first fresh one from Corioles, sweetly kissing them. His soft voice spoke on and you could feel yourself burst from his words.

“Dearest of my heart…my gift from Hera and Aphrodite themselves…”

You kissed the gash on his upper left arm. Then you lifted up to meet him, his eyes brimming with tears.

“There…twenty-seven kisses for each scar…”

Then he relaxed, your hand tracing his chest. You blew the candle out to the dark. The room suddenly became cooler. Then you nuzzled into him, settling into him. How warm he felt-so close and so real. His chest moving and falling.

“Caius…why did you want to marry me?” you asked.

“I thought…you would do well, being married to me. You…you’re good to me. You…you smiled when you saw me. You weren’t afraid…” he confessed.

“I was nervous every time you noticed me!” you recalled.

You felt the smile in his voice. His other hand found yours and wrapped itself over your palm. He went on.

“So was I! I hate banquets and parties…but I went to them in case you were there. I watched you squirm at the gladiator fights and look away and wish I could…just take you in my arms and take you away from them. But…then there was the time I was with your father’s…. You said something, and it made me laugh…I laughed! That was…when I knew…when I knew I had to be your husband.”

You looked up at him. His eyes were shiny. But you did not see tears. He swallowed, perhaps looking away made him more honest. You nestled back into him and clung to him. He kept talking.

“I kept…thinking of you. Of what you would say. I kept going to the market. Every day. Just to see you. Even just a glimpse of you passing by. Just one glimpse-not much. To see you walk up to the bathhouses….”

“And you never went in to see me in there…because of your scars?” you asked.

“I knew you frequented them. I confess- I am a man. As much as I would have loved to see you naked and wet, it meant scaring the others away when I removed my clothes, it would have scared you away…”

You went back to look at him. This time you touched his face, looking directly into his blue eyes.

You pressed a forehead to his.

“They don’t scare me…not anymore, and you don’t scare me…” you whispered. “Caius…Caius, I love you…”

“Y/N…I…I love you too…”

That evening, as the night settled over a place that called itself Rome, you relaxed into bed with your husband. You wrapped your arms to embrace him and he did not put on his toge to hide his scars. He only held you tight. His scars only barely brushed against you. Badges of war. Badges of honor. Badges of protection. He kissed the top of your head as you both settled into sleep.

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