#the grave's a fine and private place

[godheadjones]

oh god I forgot these annotations

#the grave’s a fine and private place #books

[cameronspecial]

Really, Rafe?

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Couple Arguments and Angst

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.2K

Summary: What is supposed to be a romantic getaway starts to feel like something else when Y/N realizes the type of activities the resort has.

A/N: Inspired by this post (Totally not because Tom Holland liked the post).

Masterlist

One rule in their relationship is that Y/N and Rafe take turns planning dates. Everything from small picnic dates to large vacation dates. This time, it is his turn to plan a vacation. When it comes to holiday trips, it doesn’t have to be far or grand. It could be a small thing, as long as it is a getaway from their normal life for at least two days. The last one they went on was when they both went to a small beach house in Myrtle Beach. Y/N was lucky enough to have found a private rental away from most of the city’s commotion. It was just the ocean, cocktails and the two of them for a week. It was absolute Heaven. As she watches the scenery pass by, Y/N can’t help her excitement as to where they are going. “Can’t you tell me where we are going?” she pleads. Her eyes are as big as dinner plates. He gently squeezes her thigh and throws her a smile, “That’s a secret for me to know and for you to find out.” She giggles with a shake of her head. “That is such a cliche saying.” He shrugs, “So? It still doesn’t mean I am going to tell you.” She gives him a playful pout and continues to look out of the window. 

Ten minutes later, the dense forest turns to equally placed decorative trees and the paved road turns to decorative stones. He parks the car and steps out to open the door for her. She takes in the castle-like resort. The golden trimming and fascia remind the girl of Versailles. She imagines all sorts of things they can do together. Sit by the pool with a drink in hand. Relax thanks to the hands of a masseuse. Dine in fairytale-like restaurants. It takes her breath away, but only for a second because she finally spots the real reason why they are here. To the right of the building are expansive green plains with people of various ages swinging back a club to send the ball flying through the air. Y/N notices Rafe isn’t by her side and turns to find him unloading his golf clubs from the trunk. He packed the trunk, so she didn’t notice it. Disappointment falls over her as it all clicks into place. 

“Really, Rafe?” she disgruntled. Her arms cross over each other and her right hip juts out. He looks at her with a tight-lipped smile, “What? This place has a great high tea evening, which I know you’ve been dying to try. And they have an indoor and outdoor pool that you could take advantage of. Plus, a great spa package for you to try.” This man is really digging his own grave. She lets out a bitter laugh. “You do realize through your whole little spiel, you always said you. Never we, like you expect me to do all those things by myself while you go off and spend all your time with your golf clubs,” she argues. Rafe’s eyes widen, “No, Sugar, you got it all wrong. I didn’t mean it like that. Of course, I planned on doing all those things with you. I promise I just brought my clubs in case you got sick of me and I need to give you some space.” She didn’t believe him. Not when a previous experience told her otherwise. It may have been four years ago when they started dating, yet a girl never forgets. Rafe had planned a date at a football bar. It would’ve been fine if his sole reasoning wasn’t to be surrounded by TVs to watch the game. Halfway through the date, other football fans joined their table to watch the event with him. She felt so ignored and unimportant during that hour. She left the date without so much as a goodbye.

She wouldn’t have seen him again if it wasn’t for how apologetic he was. He expressed remorse through his words and then flowers. She eventually forgave him, agreeing to another date. However, she never forgot the way that she felt in that bar. The humiliation of walking away from a man who paid her no attention. Up until today, she never regretted the decision to give him a second chance. Now, she feels the same way. She worries he didn’t listen to her concern about them not being able to spend a lot of quality time with each other because of how busy they have been with work. It’s the reason why they decided to go on this two-week getaway. To reconnect with each other and they couldn’t do that if he planned to spend all his time on the course. “Sure, that’s totally why you did it. If you didn’t want to spend time with me, Rafe, you could’ve told me. I would’ve given you the space and you wouldn’t have had to drag me with you here,” she criticizes, storming into the hotel to calm down.

———

For the past five minutes, she has been cooling herself down in the resort lobby. Rafe has been at the front desk, probably checking into their room. She doesn’t know if she should stay or just call a cab to take her to the nearest train station. She watches as he points in her direction and the receptionist gives him a nod. The woman removes herself from behind the counter, walking over to Y/N with a smile. “Excuse me, Ms. Y/L/N? Could you please follow me to the front desk?” the receptionist, named Kate according to her name tag, asks. Y/N hesitates to nod, yet still obeys the request. Once at the front desk, Y/N keeps her distance from Rafe. Kate types into her computer and turns it toward the female guest, “Mr. Cameron requested I show you all the bookings he made for stay here.” Rafe’s girlfriend stares at him with narrow eyes and he leans in to whisper in her ear. “I didn’t tell her what happened. I just asked her to show you what I booked.” She gives him a small nod, turning her attention toward the screen.  

The list is long, but it is easy to recognize a pattern. Everything is reserved for a couple and not a single one is a tee-time reservation. She couldn’t argue that he had Kate remove his tee times because literally every single minute between nine in the morning and seven in the evening had something planned. She made a horrible mistake and accused Rafe of not caring about her. She turns to him with teary eyes. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you, Rafe,” she apologizes, wrapping her arms around him. He lets her snuggle into his neck and wraps his arms around her waist. His lips rest on her forehead, “It’s okay, Sugar, I know I was really an ass on that date so long ago. I mean I can’t say I’m not hurt that you still think I could still be that idiot, but I am grateful every day that you chose to forgive me. Which means that I have it in my heart to forgive you too. I love you.” She presses her lips against his. “Thank you for forgiving me. I love you too.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks x reader #outer banks imagine #rafe cameron outer banks #rafe #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe fanfiction #rafe fic #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #outerbanks #outer banks fic #outer banks rafe #obx #obx fanfiction #obx fic #obx x reader #obx fanfic #obx imagine

[nneogram]

HIT ME UP

[URGENT; 11/23] PALESTINE.

PAIRING. wonwoo x reader (f)

GENRE. fluff, college!au

WORDCOUNT. 1k

WARNINGS. i think there’s one (1) expletive, wonwoo is not good at speaking on the phone

A/N. happy holidays and long time (loooong long time) no see! i can’t believe how quickly time has passed and i don’t know how long i’ll be back (though as always i have multiple works-in-progress rn) but for now enjoy this spur-of-the-moment piece i wrote while avoiding studying for my final that’s today. this is unedited! there could be typos and grammatical errors >.<

LISTEN TO. “hit me up” by omar apollo, dominic fike, & kenny beats.

Wonwoo knew it wasn’t a good idea to mention you to his roommate. Because now all Soonyoung wants to do is force Wonwoo to make the first move, something that A) wouldn’t end well and B) will never happen in the first place. Wonwoo would rather suffer an untimely death than be the one to initiate anything. And that’s saying something considering this final paper he was working on right now felt pretty much like death.

“Just call her. Hit her up and go, ‘I’m in love with you, please go out with me or else I’ll throw myself out the window.’” Soonyoung purposely pitches his voice up an octave.

“One,” Wonwoo types away on his laptop, paying no attention to his meddling roommate, “My voice sounds nothing like that. And two, throwing myself out the window isn’t as grave of a repercussion when you remember we live on the first floor.”

Soonyoung sighs. “Okay, how about starting small? Ask her out to dinner or something. Something simple and easy.”

Wonwoo fakes a laugh. “Bold of you to assume that’s easy. There’s nothing easy about calling the girl you like and asking her on a date.”

“You don’t even have to do the first part. I can call her, and all you have to do is ask her out.”

Soonyoung’s offer gets ignored as Wonwoo continues to stare at the half-empty word document on his laptop screen. Knowing his roommate won’t let up until he acquiesces in some way, Wonwoo absentmindedly agrees, saying something like, “Sure. Do whatever you want.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Wonwoo echoes his roommate and the room descends into silence. Ah, peace and quiet. Something that almost never happens with Soonyoung in the room-

It’s too quiet.

The gravity of the situation doesn’t sink in until he spots Soonyoung a few steps away, Wonwoo’s phone in hand, your contact name pulled up. And Soonyoung’s ring-adorned finger hovering over the “Call” button.

Wonwoo fumbles for the phone, but Soonyoung yanks it out of reach. Wonwoo can only stand in frozen terror as his roommate presses the button for speakerphone and the ringing drones on.

He’s further cemented to his spot when you actually pick up.

“Hello? Wonwoo?” The line crackles as your voice fills the room. Your voice sounds different on the phone - a little deeper, a little more hushed as though this was a private conversation. It was supposed to be a private conversation.

Wonwoo’s stunned silence would have continued if it were not for Soonyoung swatting at his shoulder. Talk to her, his roommate mouths. “Uhm, yeah, hi.” His voice threatens to crack at the end of his sentence, and he clears his throat.

“Hey.” There’s a hint of bemusement in your voice. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry for the call, I usually don’t do that, -“

“-Yeah, I got a little confused,” you confess with a breathy laugh. “I wasn’t sure if something was wrong, and even if so I would’ve expected a cryptic text first.”

God, he loves your sense of humor. Wonwoo forces a chuckle. “Yeah, yeah, sorry. So, uh. What’s up?”

There’s a beat of silence from you. He can hear your amusement when you echo back his question. “‘What’s up?’”

Soonyoung facepalms. But he’s at least brought Wonwoo’s phone down to an attainable level now, so Wonwoo takes the opportunity to retrieve it.

He immediately presses the button to remove you from the speakerphone and brings the phone to his ear. “Sorry, sorry, I got sidetracked. This is why I send my cryptic texts.” Your laugh on the other end affirms Wonwoo in his defusing of the situation, and so he continues. “When did you say you were heading back home again?”

“Saturday afternoon. Why, what’s up?”

Fuck it, here goes nothing. Wonwoo takes a deep breath. “The reason why I was calling you is because I was wondering if you wanted to go grab something to eat before you leave to celebrate the end of finals but if you aren’t able to that’s okay.”

Wonwoo ignores the way Soonyoung is staring him down with an incredulous look on his face. Wonwoo is pretty sure he’s red in the face right now.

Once again, more silence on your end. Wonwoo thinks maybe the call has disconnected (or maybe you were so offended by his proposal that you hung up), and he’s about to bring the phone away from his face to check his screen when you finally respond.

“That’s the most I’ve heard you say in one go.” Once again, you’re laughing, and Wonwoo’s worries dissipate. He’s still nervous, of course, especially considering you haven’t actually answered to his offering yet, but something about your laidback nature really puts him at ease. It almost makes him think that even if you said no, he’d be okay-

“I’d love to grab food with you. Did you want to do Friday night or Saturday morning?”

What.

Wonwoo’s roommate has since crept closer to him, head leaning in on the other side of the phone to listen in on the conversation. Soonyoung is just as shell-shocked as Wonwoo is when you say yes.

“Mm, uh,” Wonwoo clears his throat, “Friday night works for me. I’ll be free from my last final by then.”

“Sick! Me too. I can’t wait to be free from the grips of biochem after Friday afternoon.” There’s rustling on your end, likely you getting up and moving around. “I have to head back to studying right now, but we can text as it gets closer to figure out specifics?”

“Sure. Sounds good.” Wonwoo’s throat has gone dry.

Soonyoung has decided at this point that his job is done, and he walks away from Wonwoo with a fist pumping in the air as though his favorite soccer team just won the World Cup.

Wonwoo returns his full attention to you. He can hear your grin when you say, “Great. Oh, and Wonwoo?”

He expects there to be a caveat, a “but” at the end of your acceptance. “Hm?”

“You should call me more often.”

#jeon wonwoo fic #jeon wonwoo svt #jeon wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo #jeon wonwoo fluff #wonwoo fic #wonwoo svt #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #seventeen fic #svt fic #seventeen scenarios #svt scenarios

[telleroftime]

Wedding Vows ||| Bowser x Reader

Headcanons

———————————————

Headcanons for Bowser and what your proposal and wedding would look like.

Request - Anonymous

Pairing: Bowser x Gender Neutral ! Reader

Relationship: Romantic

Tone: Fluff

Bowser Masterlist

A/N: Bowser has me kicking my feet istg.

———————————————

Realistically, Bowser would be the one to propose first. Not only that, he'd do it sooner rather than later. Maybe even before the two of you would officially l court one another, or very soon after unless you voiced the fact you'd want to take everything slowly. If you haven't, he'd jump right into it. If you have, he'd wait right up to the point you'd say you were ready. Not a second longer.

Not because he is impatient - though he is impatient - but because he is just that eager to be with you and he just knows you are the perfect match for him.

He wants everyone to know that.

We know he falls in love strongly. And, once he loves you, he won't let go, so he doesn't understand why he'd have to wait to get married and officially have you as his royal consort. He wants you to be by his side as the second monarch of the kingdom, and he wants all the neighbouring allies and foes to know that you are his, now with an added ring on top.

And in terms of the actual proposal - it would be extravagant as there is no amount of gold he wouldn't spend on you.

Though he'd usually shower you with gifts, from delicate clothes and finely crafted jewellery to the most flavourful desserts, coming up to his proposal you'd notice a lot more of them. There'd be a lot more boxes wrapped in clean paper, with ribbons of all sort of colours wrapped around them. He'd leave them in your room and hide them in all the places you frequented.

All until he proposes.

He'd make sure that you were having a good day, preparing all sorts of events for you to take part in by yourself. A shopping spree if you enjoyed those. A buffet prepared in our name with all your favourite foods. Guards would escort you outside the Dark Lands so that you could spend the day in a more scenic environment.

All so you're distracted, giving him time as he prepares flowers and goes over what exactly he will say to you.

He'd make a grand entrance, all proud of himself. If you're uncomfortable with too many people, he would keep it as private as possible. He'd minimise the amount of guards with him, though not by much. After all, Bowser is a proud king. He'd want people to know of his proposal and he wants people to witness his love for you.

If he knows that you're comfortable with people and crowds then be prepared because the only thing that could rival his proposal would be the wedding itself. He'd have music playing as he enters, his back as straight as he could get it to seem all regal in front of you, even though his eyes would deceive his character. He's too madly in love to hold back on the heart-eyes.

Be prepared for the worst pick-up lines possible, because even though you're both already established as in love and in a relationship, he will use them.

Honestly, it'd probably be Kamek's suggestion.

It would be a love confession unlike any other.

His love is for you and you only, meaning that the only person he fears a negative reaction from is you. He feels no embarrassment from the way he acts and the way he makes it clear to anyone and everyone around that he loves you. Only your opinion matters to him.

He will sing for you in that gravely voice of his, present you flowers, and he will get you the shiniest ring he could get.

Depending on what your style is like, the type of metal the ring is made from would be different.

He could have presented you a black or silver-like metal ring that mimics the hues of the spiky bracelets he always wears. He could have presented you a typical golden ring with any form of embellishment to give it the depth you deserve. He could have presented you a rose gold ring. Literally any ring you can imagine if that's what suits your interests. And, no matter the base of the ring, they all would be encrusted with matching gems and precious stones.

Whatever ring choice he settled for, the wedding ring would be far richer. No penny will be spared.

And speaking of no penny spared - the wedding would be quick to follow and it would be the grandest event of the times.

All of your clothes would be custom made, matching in all the possible ways. The accents would be either your favourite colours or they would be the colour of your eyes if you so wished it. Any ribbons would be in that colour. Any embedded gems and sewn in sequins would all follow the colour scheme you select.

No matter your choice, Bowser will be all the more enamoured.

He'd prepare a special venue somewhere within his domain to ensure that everything would be perfect. It had to be perfect. Bowser would not have it any other way. Not for you. The time of day must be perfect. The weather must be perfect. The decorations much be perfect.

Everything would be meticulously picked out in a way he knew fit your liking.

And speaking of meticulously picked out, all of the music would be written by him and prepared perfectly for you. Though he wouldn't play it himself as he'd obviously be at the altar, he'd have the most skilled musicians of his kingdom recite it instead.

And, since all the titles to his melodies would be themed around you, he would expect pure perfection.

Or else he would end up short of a few musicians.

In terms of the guest list, Bowser would invite everyone - or at least everyone of significance. His allies would all get invited. King Boo, King Bob-omb. Bowser would even invite some of his enemies just for the sake of pridefully showing off his new consort-to-be. Anyone you'd like would be invited, be that family or friends - their status doesn't matter to him - all with front seats at the reception.

The enemies do include Princess Peach, Mario, and Luigi.

Bowser would have been extremely worried and stressed before you walked down the aisle. His cheeks would show a bright flush from past the scales and his brows would be knitted and crossed across his face, twitching with anxiety.

What if you changed you mind? What if you didn't want to marry him?

His eyes would be all over the place, skimming the crowd in anticipation, right up to the point when you showed up across the room and the music started playing.

Then he'd be utterly awestruck.

His eyes would go wide, taking you all in and watching as you walked towards him. His maw would be left lightly agape, and his breath would be stuck inside his throat as he visibly followed you with the turn of his head. Even when you finally stood in front of him he'd feel like he's in a dream, leaning in to get a closer look and slouching more than usual to be all the more nearer.

This would be one of the first and only times Bowser would stutter. He doesn't know what to say, and all he'd have is this goofy smile paired with half-lidded heart-eyes. in that moment, for him, there'd be just you and him. How he appeared to the onlookers did not matter to him. He only cared how he'd look in front of you.

Oh, and Kamek would be the marriage officiant.

You'd say your vows whilst Bowser's tail would wag like the tail of an excited puppy.

He'd lean down for you to kiss him and grin even more when you did with a shine in his eyes, heart hammering loud enough for you to hear. There'd be plenty of times when he'd look back at the guests in attendance with a proud look in his gaze like: "Everyone look, this is my consort. They're my spouse now!" He'd be so happy with himself. He'd be so happy to have you.

Now, the wedding ceremony would have been held outside the castle, but the after party would be held within it.

Bowser would have had one of his largest ballrooms prepared, matching the decor of the wedding itself and making sure it all ties together with the grey and black bricks of his castle. Everything would be perfectly polished, clean, and tidy. Nothing would dare be out of place as the two of you celebrate. There would be not a single spec of dust or ash in sight.

During the actual party, the only time he'd be separated from you would be when he's discussing something with the other kings, whether that be them congratulating him or having polite conversation. Whatever it would be, his eyes would never leave your figure, following your movements with ease.

And when he's done entertaining them, he'd come straight to you.

At first, the other guests wouldn't know what to do. They'd want to talk to you, congratulate you on your wedding or catch up with you if they're your friends, however they'd be too frightened of Bowser's huge figure looming behind you like a protective boulder.

Only when Peach takes the initiative and walks up to the two of you does the rest of the crowd relax. She'd congratulate the two of you, politely bowing with a soft look in her eyes as she addresses you. The two of you would talk all whilst Bowser leans in defensively like he's daring the princess to do anything.

He'd want to be anywhere else than near Peach.

Yes, he wants to show you off to the princess, however he doesn't want you to think he still harbours any affections towards her. He doesn't. He only loves you, and he doesn't want you thinking any less of him for being this close to his past obsession.

It takes a while for him to ease into the conversation, keeping to single animalistic grunts and rumbles whenever Peach would try and converse with him.

When the Mario Brothers come up to the three of you - or two if you opted to leave Peach to ease Bowser's nerves - he'd tense.

His fists would clench in a silent way of controlling himself, though with how close you'd stand to him you'd be able to hear the rumble of flames bursting inside of his chest. It'd take a little while of you absentmindedly stroking his arm to relax him back down, but eventually he'd be able to stand still and simply enjoy being close to you, even with his enemies so close to him.

Overall, the evening would be beyond pleasant.

The two of you would dance together, Bowser absolutely taken by you. The two of you would eat the towering cake, feeding him some whilst completely disregarding the eyes of the guests. In general, you'd have a great time.

———————————————

Bowser Masterlist

#bowser #bowser x reader #bowser x y/n #super mario bowser #bowser headcanons #headcanons #bowser super mario #king bowser #mario bros #super mario x reader #bowser request #bowser x reader headcanons

[secretpostsposts]

So sorry I made you think I was a hacker (even though I only left a comment on a post.) I have no information on you except the fact that you writing this fic. As I asked in the comments before, how would brozone react if branch went toe to toe with a dangerous wild animal and killed it in front of them? I REALLY NEED TO KNOW HOW THIS WOULD GO.

I DIDN'T SAY IT COLD!, SORRY!!!, I WAS JUST JOKING, IT WASN'T MY INTENTION THAT HE WOULD TAKE IT LIKE THAT, SORRY!!! B:[ 😭

I'm sorry if I can't reply to your comment on another post, for some reason Tumblr won't let me, I try and it tells me I can't, so yes, if you have something to say, I can read you in the comments, but maybe you can write it in the questions or in some private message, because I can't answer.

It's just that your comment took me by surprise, because it was planned in a future chapter to make Branch violent, because you can't tell me that for two those years Branch didn't kill at least 1 creature 5 times his size or more, he's a survivor, at least I think he carries a hunter's knife just for protection.

But I'll gladly answer your question!

Ok this isn't part of the story, but it's (haha) canon in it.

So the brothers go camping, John Dory's idea, as a signature to get Branch away from his friends and spend more time among brothers, of course it ends with Branch sitting bored all the time while his brothers do the rest at camp.

Branch wants to check the area and see that everything is safe, nope, that's Clay's job; Branch wants to make the food for everything, double not, that's Bruce's job; Branch wants to see if there's no predator around, don't even think about it, that's John Dory's job.

Floyd's job is to keep Branch entertained and happily minded sitting on a log, waiting for the others to finish so they can all have fun together (and if JD took photograph instead of guarding the place, it's a secret that the others will take to the grave).

So he was having lunch or dinner, it was already dark and JD thought it would be funny vs. horror story to scare Branch (but Floyd and Clay ended up scared because Branch has nerves of steel and refused to scream when Bruce jokingly scared them, although Branch did have a mini cardiac arrest because of it), They were having fun.

Of course I wasn't.

John Dory didn't check the place properly, neither did Clay, so with all the screaming and the fire and the smell of the food, he found something very big, very big.

John Dory tried to push the creature away, but failed, he kept his brothers behind him, but out of the corner of their eye the brothers only saw a blue, black and green blur pass at full speed by their side directly at the animal.

Blood, a cry of anger and pain, none of the brothers really knew what happened, but the next moment Branch is standing on the carcass of the animal, with an axe in his hand and panting from the effort.

"Are you okay!?" Branch wiped the blood off the animal, and as the brothers looked at him, astonished, frightened? Terrified? (I chewed nothing for Branch's safety, but Branch is fine just small scratch and bruises, but nothing serious)

Although Branch was more concerned about knowing if his brother was okay, each brother was having a mental breakdown, Floyd was holding Branch, a suffocating hug from which Branch could not let go, Bruce checked that his little brother was not seriously injured despite not seeing anything he was still looking with Clay who cleaned up the blood he could from Branch.

John Dory, on the other hand, stayed behind his brothers watching them take care of Branch (who was quiet trying to calm them down), just staring blankly, he felt sick, HIS LITTLE BROTHER SHOULDN'T KNOW HOW TO KILL THINGS, HE'S A BABY, HE'S INNOCENT, HE'S FRAGILE, HE'S WEAK.

John Dory can only think of how to deal with it.

#trolls #trolls band together #brozone #trolls brozone #trolls branch #trolls john dory #trolls bruce #trolls clay #trolls floyd #beloved little brother #possessive brozone #posessive

[twistedbloodstain]

vincent de gramont x assistant!reader: to be loved is to be changed. | a glimpse of the world working for the marquis

plot: the one where you are marquis de gramont's personal assistant.

warnings: boss-assistant relationship/dynamic, power imbalance, rich people, staring

masterlist

you are the marquis’ personal assistant. you attend to his every whim and serve it with utmost perfection. naturally, he recognizes that he can trust and rely on you for certain tasks and he appreciates that in his own little way.

why do you do this? for starters, money. he’s loaded in more than ways you can comprehend. from private opera shows to exquisite fine dishes the depth of his pocket never seems to end. second, there are certain privileges you attain working for him. you are able to enjoy financial security and safety in your life.

although you don’t really seem to enjoy those privileges since your work is almost 24/7 with the marquis, there is no end. but, you don’t really mind. you don’t have anyone waiting for you at home however certain family members are tucked away in safety considering the hostile environment around your job.

the marquis trusts you, not in a way he trusts his guards. he expects you to keep everything organized while he has his plate full of problems that require fixing. he expects you to keep everything in place such as his financial situations and arrange important appointments also including to manage the staff of servants in his home.

almost your entire life revolves around him. if not for the occasional day off you’re given, you might as well be glued to his side everyday. your professional relationship with the marquis is normal, at least it’s what you expect between a boss and his assistant. he instructs and you follow, he walks and you are his shadow.

you feel like he trusts you but at the same time he doesn’t. the first time you met him, you were intimidated. he radiated raw power and ruthlessness, even if you’ve never seen it happen yet. when you began working for him, you could feel his eyes on you. you often didn’t look up, afraid that he might take that as an insult to his pride.

the both of you were sat into another lavish car to the prestigious Louvre Museum, again. you rarely accompanied him on his trips since he preferred to arrive ahead and liked to travel alone. this case turned out to be an exception since the marquis were there for business and pleasure.

you are one seat apart from him, respecting his personal space and because even if you’ve been working for him for a few months you’re still scared at him. what he’s doing right now seems to fuel that fear even more.

you’re jotting down notes from his previous meeting with an underworld drug lord, noting down the instructions and preparations he told you to carry out, you’re not sure but you can feel a pair of eyes on you. you’re too nervous to look up.

“fuck is he staring at me?” you curse to yourself.

you begin to wonder what in the world you’ve done wrong to him, because his gaze (that you aren’t sure is on you) probably is something along the lines of judgemental, and if you’ve done something to offend him…you’re not quite sure what to do for his chastisement. you stop your movements for a moment, your frame petrified in dilemma.

you remember the first time you’d made a grave mistake at work. you accidentally assigned a meeting in the morning to the afternoon. you hadn’t realized you wrote the wrong time for the Rossi Family. the repercussions you faced for that mistake weren’t severe but his verbal lashings were somewhat hard to forget. he had called you insolent and foolish for ruining the flow of his day and he considered firing you on the spot. you cried yourself to sleep that night, afraid that more might come after that seeing that the marquis doesn’t forgive easily. he was calculatedly cruel to his enemies. you wish you’d never be on the receiving end of it, because of that you swore it would never happen again and you’d deliver nothing but perfection.

you give yourself the courage to look up, “he’s probably not looking at me, what’s the worse he could do? i mean he could slowly probably tear me limb by limb but would he actually do that because i dared to look up at him?? god i hate rich people sometimes-“ you assure yourself and when your head slowly rises. you see him.

he was looking at you. his blue eyes emitting coldness and emptiness, his frame slightly relaxed on his seat with one leg thrown over the other. as usual he’s dressed to his best, an expensive suit with detailed patterns. that sometimes awes you with the amount of detail but right now you weren’t focused on that.

he didn't seem to be shocked or embarrassed of what he was doing, he didn’t bother to look away “why would he?” he holds your stare with an unwavering intimidation.

you freeze, like a deer in headlights. afraid to make a move or speak a word but you don’t break eye contact with him. you can feel your hands shaking and you hold your breath. his gaze feels like a challenge and a threat, a challenge not to look away, hold his gaze and hold still. don’t you dare look away. you’re afraid but you can’t look away, afraid of what he might do, what he might sa-

he finally looks away, you caught a glimpse of boredom as he looked away to face the window. suddenly finding it more interesting than his assistant. you feel slightly relieved that the mild encounter was over, you just gotta suffer a few more minutes of being stuck in a car with him.

you don’t ask about it. why he stares, he continually does that for the upcoming months but it lessens more and more as two years pass by. you label it just as him reading his assistant, making sure that he didn’t make a mistake in hiring you, that you are as competitive as you say you are.

two years after you’re hired you can say that’s the only thing that developed between you and your boss. you don’t share after work drinks since the work seems to be never ending and the both of you might have tastes that differ from one another. there’s not much friendliness but there’s no hostility. no greetings whenever there’s a special occasion in your life aside from the expected greeting when you meet him. he holds no position in your personal life.

both of you are just professional, everything you do for him is not arbitrary but either something you think the marquis might appreciate or something the marquis instructed himself. he “does” the same for you, there’s nothing personal in between. but..that’s until..

you did something that you never thought you would do for someone, much less for the marquis. things start to change after that, it starts to change him. it doesn’t happen until..

until…you take a bullet for him, until you take something that’s meant for him.

author’s note: *slaps hands* we’re just getting started. MWAHAHAHA, feel free to comment and reblog! i’m interested to what ya’ll have to say. :’)

part two part three part four part five

#marquis de gramont #vincent de gramont #john wick #marquis de gramont x reader #vincent de gramont x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #bill skarsgard imagine #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard x reader #john wick 4 #john wick fanfic #john wick chapter 4 #bill skarsgard crackship #bill skarsgard icons #headcanon #headcanons #yandere x reader #fanfiction #john wick imagine #fanfic #john wick franchise #keanu reeves #yandere #obsessive #bill skarsgard fanfic

[itsonlydana]

"passenger princess" | chapter three

the hobbit | a modern!AU by itsonlydana

❱ pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader

❱ wordcount: 3,2k

❱ summary: distractions over distractions..

❱ warnings: none

❱ an: i may or may not have giggled a lot while writing and imagining this. This scene was the reason i started this fic in the first place :)

general m.list + series m.list

🌿 reposts and comments are appreciated, they motivate me a lot - especially with longer projects <3

CHAPTER THREE: PAINTING

As the night progressed, the alcoholic drinks slowly but surely turned into water or coffee for your own good. None of you wanted to sit in Professor Sauron's class in the early morning with a hangover.

The man was obnoxious on his own, adding headaches and fatigue and you had practically dug your own grave and you could be sure the professor would take it upon himself to kick you in it, face towards the dirt– no questions asked.

You continued to play for a while until, as the others had predicted and taunted you with, you were the first to hand over your last bill. That and your last street went to Aragorn, and taking it like a true champion you gave up with a "No more monopoly! Never again!"

After all these hours you weren't even disappointed with this loss, it gave you a reason to finally get up from the chair and stretch your back.

On slightly asleep feet, you wandered through the lowest floor, craning your head and neck, popping the aching bones for some sweet relief.

The Oropherion family home had become a familiar place to you over the past few months, a retreat of peace and quiet that your dorm couldn't provide.

While you had initially counted how many evenings you had spent in this house, with your friends in the kitchen cooking or on the couch watching a movie and the constant hope to meet Thranduil to even have the smallest chance to strike up a conversation, these experiences, as well as conversations had accumulated to a frequency that wasn't worth counting.

The floor under your sock-clad feet was pleasantly cool, your body had grown far too warm at the table where the boys' testosterone had skyrocketed when you left.

The whole house radiated a pleasant coolness, something you appreciated after spending a few nights in Legolas' far too warm room. Legolas was a running radiator and although you were very grateful for the fact and his warm hands in the winter, you often preferred to walk around the rest of the house whenever you woke up with him pressed to your side.

Perhaps because that comfortable cold reminded you of Thranduil, of the light and sporadic touches of his cool hands sometimes in your back, sometimes on your shoulder, and very rarely the brush of his fingertips over your hands.

You collected the memories, those feelings of his skin against yours, locked them deep in your heart. They were yours, no matter how public or private they had been in the first place, now they belonged to you.

Your gaze wandered along the bright wall as it lingered on a particular spot of the hung paintings, your feet automatically following.

It was inevitable that you stopped in front of this painting during your visits for it was by far your favorite.

It was framed behind a thin glass pane, most likely because Thranduil knew about the sock races you held in the long hallway with fantastically smooth floors, and although there was a real Monet hanging among the others, it was this unassuming-looking painting that captivated you.

A forest had been painted in rather dark tones, with massive tree trunks and broad branches stretching skyward, interwoven into a dense green blanket through which little light seemed to fall. And in places where the fine rays of a warm sun were nevertheless drawn, the leaves glowed a glittering gold. On the ground, thin wisps of mist drifted over the moss-covered ground glistening with morning dew, entwining themselves around the roots that had broken out of the ground.

Unlike all the other paintings, it had no signature, no artist. Just a name; 'Mirkwood'.

You had looked at this picture so many times that you saw the individual brush strokes in your brain drawing this magical forest, and often you wondered if such a place actually existed.

How you would love to immerse yourself in this image, to bury your toes in the earth and moss, to listen to the rustle of the many leaves in the wind. Breathing deeply, you tried to conjure yourself to the trees and froze when you noticed the smell of pine needles and a slight puff of air on the back of your neck.

"You're pretty bad at sneaking up on people," you spoke forward, without turning away from the painting, to which you were almost glued with your forehead.

You knew who was behind you even so; only one person evoked this state of absolute chaos in you.

"Oh, I'm not?" Thranduil's voice wore an amused smirk. "Those shivers on you seem to be clear evidence of the contrary."

"Whatever you think you're talking about, you're wrong."

"Are you absolutely certain? Someone who flashes a grin at a good hand of cards in poker shouldn't be so quick to boast."

You were about to protest – granted, your poker face wasn't the best, but who could resist grinning when winning against Legolas?

However, before you could say anything, Thranduil beat you to it, "Speaking of games, it seems your strategy of passing 'Go' and collecting money didn't quite pan out, did it?"

Now you turned around and looked up at Thranduil.

The shirt was gone, in its place a green sweatshirt hugged a torso that shouldn't look that fit for a middle aged man, and he looked directly much more... homely. You liked that sweatshirt on him, it accentuated his eyes, the crinkles around them and his ice-blond hair stood out against the rich green like the shining moonlight. His lips were pulled into a teasing smile and you couldn't help but roll your eyes.

"It wasn't my strategy's fault. It would've secured my victory if it weren't for the incessant whining from the boys. 'Spose they couldn't handle watching me systematically take over. Soo I did the only sensible thing and gracefully bowed out of that power struggle," you explained with a playful glint in your eye.

"What a noble deed," Thranduil smirked, looking at you through long lashes. Then he took a step toward you. "However, I must disagree with your words again. I believe you had no choice but to lose."

Your eyebrows rose challengingly and you pushed your shoulders through to appear more confident. Yet you were the complete opposite under Thranduil's gaze, behind which a thought seemed to be forming that would surely cost you some nerves.

"Is that so?" you asked, itching to find out what was going on inside him, and at the same time, a little afraid.

Thranduil could say the most boring thing in the world and still make it sound like flirting.

Well okay, flirting was a little wide of the mark and a little inappropriate for a man in his 40s, it made it seem a little juvenile and what he was saying was anything but a stupid pickup line you'd hear in the bars.

It was mostly just as teasing and at the same time charming as the grin that spread across his face.

"I think," Thranduil started and you suddenly regretted investigating "No, I'm sure you weren't completely focused on the game"

Of course, you hadn't been focused on the game, at least not ever since he'd come home and messed with your mind, strolling around the goddamn kitchen with his effortless good looks as if he didn't know how much he could dominate and take over a room.

But you would never tell him that, as much as it burned on your tongue. You swallowed the words, tried to swallow the lump that formed in your throat, but it had become too big.

"I'm.. I'm not sure what you're referring to," you attempted to deflect the conversation and focused on the painting again, hoping to divert your attention from him.

A moment of silence passed between you, charged with unspoken feelings. You heard him approach and felt the cool touch of his slender fingers slowly wrap around your wrist. His fingers easily met his thumb, essentially cuffing you to himself and your knees nearly buckled.

"Am I distracting you?" Thranduil asked nonchalantly, although the question was loaded with meaning.

"No, it's just–"

"I am," His thumb traced gentle circles on your skin, causing you to clench your fist, and paused just above your pulse. "I can feel that I'm distracting you… or else your pulse is extraordinarily fast because of some painting," he whispered, his breath tickling your ear.

"I already said you're–"

"Distracting you. I know," he interrupted.

With a gentle pull, Thranduil turned you around until your back was pressed against the glass of the long-forgotten painting. He was so close that his long hair draped over your shoulders.

That one movement sent your brain into overdrive, eradicating doubt, smushing reality and fantasy until all that was left was the pure enthusiasm of being this close to the sole reason your heart felt like it was bursting out of your chest any moment now.

You looked up at him, probably spending way too much time staring at his face, from his cheekbones to his lips, rosy and pulling up in a smirk as he followed your eyes.

"Something the matter?" he asked, slightly putting some pressure on your pulse point, "Cat got your tongue? C'mon, bite back. Don't get shy suddenly."

You pressed your body back against the glass as far as it would allow it, and let the heat of his touch rush over you, savoring the contrast of hot and cold.

"Ugh. You can be soo annoying," you uttered, and although a year ago it had been unthinkable for you to call Legolas' father annoying, it was one of Thranduil's qualities that you had to remind him of again and again.

He laughed, a short chuckle deep from his chest, which you felt first before you heard it, and dimples and laugh lines of age bored into his otherwise smooth cheeks. The playful smile didn't disappear when he leaned closer to you.

You had slightly tipped your head back, for he towered above you, one large hand of his still around yours while the other spread across your lower back, nudging you against him.

Thranduil's lips moved and you had to pull yourself together to listen to him and not just stare at him and wonder if this was really happening.

Which you did.

Because, what the fuck was happening?

"I get that quite often. Comes with the job as well as raising a thick-headed son, but," –he paused and his baritone voice dropped even lower, the rumble curling around the words that twisted around your heart like roots– "dare I say that when it rolls off your tongue, it sounds dangerously close to a compliment."

This newfound closeness with him was both exhilarating and unnerving. Up until now, you had danced around each other, exchanging subtle remarks that defined the boundaries.

Yet, in this moment, those boundaries seemed to dissolve, swallowed by the intensity of the lingering eye contact you were hesitant to break.

His gaze felt like it was burrowing under your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps and pulsing blood.

You were sure of what was about to happen, you felt it in his hand on your back, leading you toward him, his shallower breathing and suddenly..

All the pressure fell off you, all the worries tumbled away and only the anticipation of finally being able to be as close to him as you've been wishing for months now remained in your chest next to your strongly pounding heart.

He was close, so very close.

"Little one-"

That's when you heard Legolas yell your name.

At first, you hoped you were imagining it.

Thranduil lingered for a breath, leaning against you. His pausing left the decision of how to proceed to you and though everything in you wanted nothing more than to bury your hands in his hair and kiss the smirk off his face, you drew your eyebrows together apologetically.

"I'm so sorry," you said softly. "I.. I can't. Not now, even if I wished–"

Immediately, Thranduil took a step back, putting a distance between you that tore a sigh out of your chest.

Even though you could see the disappointment of being interrupted in his expression, a gentle smile quickly settled on his lips. "No need to apologize."

You waited for a second though the moment had passed and even if it left you on the edge and unraveled like a ball of yarn rolling into an abyss, the end never to be found again now that you'd thrown yourself over the cliffs.

Thranduil nodded and took another step back.

And as you set off down the hallway back to the dining room, Thranduil remained back at the painting, his gaze still on you, as you couldn't help but look back at him again.

You didn't want to leave, not from him, not from his touches, his teasing words, which without this interruption would have led to the highlight of your sneaking around each other, even if until today you had believed it was nothing more than a fantasy of yours.

Yet the way Thranduil had looked at you, blue eyes full of curiosity and desire and longing, the way he had held you as if he would never want to let go of you again, if you would allow him to, no longer made you doubt the one-sidedness of your feelings.

There had to be something and while you couldn't explain why a man his age and status would go for you of all people, that wasn't what you wanted to concentrate on.

In the kitchen, the Monopoly game still seemed to be in full frenzy, just like your friends.

Aragorn had even tied his hair into a braid and was counting his money intently. You had to give most of your cards to Gimli, he had already built his first houses in the fifth round and now owned streets, with so many red hotels that even Vegas would turn green with envy.

Legolas, well, Legolas was Legolas in the sense that Gimli and he went all out for another bet because when you entered he was leaning against the wall.

Upside down.

And counting backward.

"Please. Someone tell me what I missed?" you asked, and the disappointment of being interrupted by Legolas went up in smoke at the sight, or rather in a laughing gasp. Your body automatically relaxed, no matter how electrically charged you felt by Thranduil, your little group could always bring you back.

Aragorn looked up at you, eyeing you for just a single second before one of his eyebrows lifted. "What did we miss?" he turned the question around and you knew full well you'd been seen through. "Red cheeks, tousled hair.." his eyes widened before he opened his mouth in disbelief.

Quickly you shook your head, lifting a finger to end that assumption that was forming in his mind.

At the same moment, Legolas shouted "Zero!" and landed elegantly (how he managed that with the amount of alcohol in his blood was a mystery to you) on his feet again.

Grinning triumphantly, he came back to the table, smacking his hands on his leggings and pointing to your cell phone, which you had left on the table

"Rang several times, your roommate seems to have locked herself out somehow," and turning to Gimli he said, "You said if I do a handstand for two minutes I don't have to pay my rent, so hand over the dice."

Even as you unlocked your screen, the last text message lit up at you, a 'where r u??? its cold' paired with 8 missed calls.

You rolled your eyes. Receiving such messages was nothing novel for you; your roommate had a recurring tendency to leave her keys in your shared room despite your daily reminders. The prospect of her learning from this habit seemed increasingly unlikely.

Yet, she consistently chose the most inconvenient moments to pester you about it.

Swiftly, you texted her, falsely claiming that you were en route, a dramatic exaggeration considering you weren't even certain if the bus was coming or not.

"Just leave the lass out in the cold," grumbled Gimli "Pretend you lost your phone and then we can watch that one movie later."

"The offer sounds tempting, but I think I should start getting some sleep anyway. Instead of sleeping in like you idiots, I'm going to talk to Professor Baggins again." You were sure these were two valid arguments, but at the determined look on Legolas' face, you prepared yourself for a discussion.

"C'mon, just sleep here. Tough luck for your roommate, she can sleep somewhere else," he began.

Tempting, especially when you thought back to that moment with Thranduil.

As nice as the idea of sneaking around at night sounded, and maybe more, depending on how serious Thranduil was about his flirting, you groaned. "My materials are in the dorm. I don't feel like getting up in the morning to pick everything up first and then drive to the university"

"We'll go with you," Legolas shot off another argument, though the other two didn't seem thrilled with it.

"Sure, because that's sooo realistic," you drew out "I can see it coming; I'm the only one who gets up because you'd rather sleep in. No thanks, as much as I appreciate your breakfast cereal, I don't want to put myself through that stress. Two more days and we're free for the weekend. Let's watch the movie then."

The latter was like an olive branch of peace. Although it was your turn to clean the dorm tomorrow, Legolas' pout indicated a never-ending fuss if you left early and without completing his "pep up plan".

You decided that you'd just ask your roommate to cover your shift as a way of saying thanks for letting her in tonight.

"Alright," Legolas relented "We will watch that new horror movie though."

You stuck your tongue out at him. "Bribery. I hate horror"

"And I hate it when you leave," he said, and you conceded defeat.

The smile was back on his face in an instant.

Opening the bus app, however, dramatically lowered your spirits. "Shit. The bus in 10 minutes is canceled, due to a shortage of staff at short notice, and the one after that won't arrive for another two hours. Fuck."

"And the night bus? It's a ten-minute walk to the station, we can bring you," Aragorn's face wore a frown as he stepped beside you, scrutinizing the app as well.

"No," you sighed and leaned against his side, "No.. they canceled the line as well because, wait.. Here; they say it's some roadwork."

His arm wrapped around your shoulder, rubbing it comforting. "Stay the night, please," he asked in a lowered voice, "I won't be able to sleep when you're out there this late. If it's our comments from earlier that hold you back I deeply apologize."

You shook your head, falling into the embrace even more. "Don't worry about that, that's not the problem. I kinda need to sleep in my own bed tonight, y'know? I love you guys but my energy reserves won't fill up if I have Legolas snoring next to me all night."

Aragorn waited, holding your gaze until your nod convinced him that you weren't lying to him about the teasing. "Alright, we'll get you home," he whispered and softly kissed your forehead.

"Can't you call a cab? Way faster and safer."

As sweetly as Legolas' suggestion was meant, a bitter taste spread in your mouth.

As a student, you didn't always have it easy, not with the costs of the university, which only allowed you a room in the dormitory even if you didn't have to live on instant noodles every day and somehow made ends meet with a small part-time job.

Legolas had grown up without money problems because of Thranduil and his father, which he was well aware of, but sometimes you had to remind him that not everyone could take a cab through half the city in the middle of the night.

Just as you were about to tell him this, another voice joined in the conversation:

"Come on, I'll give you a ride."

taglist [still open]: @mushroomemeralds, @mssuguru, @solartoge, @12134z03, @fruitymoonbeams-blog, @lady-of-imladris, @finallyforgotten, @123forgottherest,

#📁files: passenger princess #thranduil x reader #lotr x reader #the hobbit fanfiction #the hobbit x reader #thranduil fanfiction #thranduil x you #lord of the rings fanfiction #lord of the rings x reader #lotr fanfiction

[captain-mj]

Celebration or Funeral

Graves invites the crew out to a bar for seemingly no reason and hopefully no ulterior motives.

Price was dumbfounded at the audacity honestly. Graves had sent out an invite to the 141 and Alejandro and Rodolfo. Even included plus ones if they had a partner to bring.

He didn't understand at all. It was so bizarre. The invitation was safe. They had a team to check for anthrax and the like. But everything had been given the seal of approval.

There was a time, date, location, even coordinates in case they didn't know the place. He had checked. It was a bar in Texas that was close enough to the border that the Los Vaqueros wouldn't have to travel too far from home. It was close to where they had chased Hassan originally.

The 141 would have to fly of course, but that's cause they were stationed in Urzikstan at the moment.

Price mentioned it offhandedly to Farah, planning to toss it out and never ever seeing that traitor again.

But Farah had smiled at him. "Oh! Yeah, Alex and I were going to go. I'm glad Phillip decided to invite you guys."

"Phillip? You guys are on first name basis now?"

She frowned at him, immediately looking displeased. "Price, remember what we talked about. We've been working together for a while now."

"You can't trust him."

"I never said I did. I simply ask you trust me." Farah huffed. "And I will be going to their outing. He does this with his closest Shadows often and Alex and I always have a nice time. Maybe you all need to come along. It might be good to clear the air since we will continue to work with each other."

Price really wished he could convince Farah to stop working with him, but if she insisted on doing so, he would be there. "Fine. I'll come."

The other three agreed to come immediately, not wanting Price to walk into an ambush, relatively, alone.

The plane ride was... uncomfortable to say the least.

Ghost was currently glowering at Alex who kept glancing over at him and grimacing. He'd sigh passive aggressively and Alex would turn around to glare at him back.

"And why are those two acting like jilted lovers?" Price aske Gaz and Soap.

"Oh, Alex said he and Graves had become friends and Ghost is made because the two of them and Alejandro are friends. He considers it a betrayal to their friendship." Gaz explained.

"Ah. Are you also upset, Soap? You did get shot."

Soap nodded. "Well. I am pissed. But with Makarov around, Graves helping Farah to fight him, and him betraying Shepherd to throw him under the buss, I'm trying to stay level headed about it."

It was a shockingly grounded take. Price wished he could do the same. Inside, the anger was too hot. Too volatile. He didn't know what it was about Graves that just got under his skin, but forgiveness wasn't on the table.

Honestly he wanted to just beat him into the ground. Hurt him like he had hurt Soap and Ghost in Los Almas. Like he had hurt the Vaqueros.

He felt like a rabid dog when he thought of it. Normally, he was so much better at keeping his emotions in check.

Farah patted him suddenly and he glanced up at her. "Do you want a drink, old man?"

"Yeah. I could use one." He stood up and followed her to the cabin. The plane used to be a private one, but it had been repurposed for Farah and her Freedom Fighters. It was better for long distances than a helicopter and it had better optics when they had to make speeches or talk with government operations.

Farah didn't keep much alcohol on board, but she did keep a thing of whiskey for the two of them to share. She poured them both a glass and he took it from her gratefully.

"I understand why you're upset."

"And I understand why you're working with him." Price interrupted. "I do. I promise. It's just an adjustment. Especially finding out you socialize with him."

"Mostly I socialize with Oz actually."

"Oz?"

"His second in command! He's great. Very cool. He's shown me how to play video games." Farah smiled so softly, almost like she was embarrassed.

Price smiled a little himself, thinking of Farah being... normal. She had fought for so long. Her entire childhood spent in hell. If she enjoyed spending time with this "Oz" guy, he must not be awful. "Okay. I'm going to give all of them a chance, alright?''

"Thank you, Price. I do appreciate it." Farah squeezed his arm. "Really. I hope we can all work amicably."

They settled back down with the others and rested for this rest of the plane ride.

The moment they touched down, Farah and Alex were quickly getting out. Price bit his tongue and hung back, the 141 one quickly following his lead, even though Gaz did glance at Alex and Alex did glance back.

"Try to play nice. No unnecessary fights." Price ordered, patting Gaz's back.

"Aye, Captain." Soap responded.

Ghost stayed very quiet, only giving the slightest nod.

"At ease."

They didn't really separate. Maybe it was unease at being on unfamiliar turf or the fact that they were all enemies.

Alejandro was smoking near his car, Rudy at his right. His body language shifted, relaxing at the same time the grin appeared on his face. "Hermanos!"

Soap smiled. "Alejandro, Rodolfo. Long time no see."

Alejandro grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hug. Soap did the same with Rodolfo.

Gaz nodded at them. "Colonel Vargas. Sergeant Major Parra."

"I feel we're on a first name by now, Sergeant Garrick." Rodolfo smiled at him. "Nice to see you again."

Alejandro nodded but jumped into business. "Our invitation said this was an... apology. You guy's mention anything about this?"

"No. Just an invitation."

"Interesting. Let's head inside."

The bar itself was full of people. It took Price a moment before he realized it, but, with the exception of the bartender, every person in the room was a Shadow. All of them were in civvies, but he recognized a few of them from chance in encounters. They all talked about their work with no issues.

Alex had a cowboy hat on. For some reason, this was something he noticed immediately. He was currently downing a pint, trying to drink it faster than a dark haired woman who was currently beating him.

Farah was chatting animatedly with a giant man with strange makeup on. HIs hair was set up a bit like a vikings would be. He was smiling at her and nodding excitedly.

Price didn't like it.

The giant man looked at him and quickly looked... embarrassed? It was an odd look on such a big man.

Farah followed his gaze and waved Price over. He quietly walked over, keeping an eye out on everyone. Most people were drunk or getting there so there weren't many threats.

Oz smiled at him, standing up. Price didn't like that he had to tilt his head up to look him in the eye.

"It is nice to meet you, Captain. You too, Colonel. The rest of you." Oz seemed unsure of himself.

"Oz, I'm assuming?"

"Yes, sir." Oz nodded.

Farah smiled. "We were talking about a game he showed me! It's called Terraria. It's so much fun!"

"Now, Osmond." There was that familiar accent. Graves was smiling, looking... stupidly casual. A flannel shirt, tight jeans, a belt buckle. A walking stereotype of American. "Please tell me you haven't converted Farah to your nerdy shit."

"Hey!" Farah defended him. "It's fun!"

Graves shook his head, a bright blush on his face from intoxication. "Whatever you say, ma'am." He looked at them. For a moment, he made eye contact with Price and it was like a lightning bolt. But then his eyes skipped right over to him to Alejandro. He took a deep breath. "It's nice to see you again, Colonel. And you, Sergeant Major."

"The feeling is not mutual."

Graves stepped a bit closer, on the very edge of his personal space. "Alright. Hit me."

Alejandro frowned.

"One free hit. Consider it the start of us getting even with each other. There's no guns in here. No one is going to stop you and I'm not going to hit you back. So, hit me."

Alejandro weighed his options for a split second before socking Graves so hard on the side of his jaw that Oz had to catch him before he stumbled.

Graves took a split second, blinking involuntary tears from his eyes. He faced him again. "Great. Your drinks are on us." Despite the freshly blooming bruise, he still managed a rather charming smile.

Alejandro shook his head but stepped back. Rudy didn't.

"Only fair I let you have one, yeah?" Graves smiled right before Rodolfo hit him hard in the stomach.

"Stay out of Los Almas." Rudy hissed to him.

"I was planning on it, amigo." Graves managed to straighten up after a minute. "You four aren't getting a hit."

"Gonna let me shoot you later?" Soap growled at him.

Graves laughed. "Nah. Have as many shots as you want though." He nodded at them and walked away, clearly hurting a little but playing it off.

Price ordered the most expensive whiskey available. He downed a shot, keeping an eye on Graves as he went to each table. His hands touched every Shadow's shoulder. It was a light touch but Price recognized it. He did the same thing when the 141 came back from missions. A light touch to let him know they were alive.

"John." Simon muttered. "How are we feeling?"

"I'm following the Colonel's lead. He seems to be trying to run up a tab. I'm going to do the same. Farah also seems... happy. A normal friendship outside of the military will be good for her. Or as close as this is."

Ghost nodded and sat next to him. They observed them for a good minute before Gaz slunk to Price's other side. Soap was mingling.

There was country music playing. It sounded modern, but Price didn't exactly listen to the genre. He sighed and ordered another whiskey, hoping to keep himself just drunk enough to relax but not so drunk he couldn't fight.

As the songs flipped through, Price got tipsy enough to mildly enjoy himself. His friends had left him at some point, not too far away, just around.

Something came on the radio and Graves climbed on to a table. The top few buttons of his shirt had been undone and he was panting a little bit.

"Turn that motherfucker off!"

"Come on, Graves it's just one song!"

"No! I've hated that motherfucker for ages and suddenly he wants to prounce around like a little bastard. That motherfuckers went to a fucking private school! Get his ass off my radio!" Graves hissed.

Price swallowed thickly. Maybe it was the whiskey, of which he was a few glasses down. Maybe it was the sudden anger and passion in his face. But he felt flushed from more than alcohol.

The next song, which sounded like a love ballad to him, seemed to please Graves who started to sing along. Despite the table being wooden, it held his weight as he stomped his boots on it. He smiled brightly as he did and someone handed him a whiskey bottle to drink during the chorus.

Price made eye contact with him and quickly glanced around to talk to his team.

HIs team which was not there.

Ghost and Simon had started to banter, making fun of people in the room despite never looking away from each other.

Gaz, who now had that cowboy hat on, had gotten swept up in Alex, the two of them currently dancing. Alex was a little out of step, his prosthetic leg probably making it harder.

Farah was now dancing with one of the pretty Shadows. The two of them twirling around.

Even Alejandro and Rodolfo were staring at each other, Rudy's hand was on Alejandro's chest.

Fuck. He didn't have anyone around.

Price looked back up at Graves who had looked away but somehow a few more of his buttons had come undone. His head tilted back, showing off a pretty neck. Fuck, his chest was heaving, breath puffing out of him.

They were making eye contact again. Graves licked his bottom lip and drank more of his whiskey.

Price got up and went to the bathroom. He took off his hat for a moment and splashed his face with water to try to sober up a little.

"Price." That fucking accent sounded from behind him. Maybe he should've hid in one of the stalls. But that would've felt juvenile.

"Graves." He looked in the mirror at him.

The man smiled. "Sorry if I'm interrupting. You alright?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I?" Price growled out, watching those red cheeks got redder.

Graves shrugged a little. "Don't know. Maybe I'm projecting on ya a little." He looked away, drinking more of the bottle.

"I'm angry."

"is it all at me?"

"No. Not just you." Price sighed and straightened up. He walked over until he was standing over him. Graves straightened up a little but he let Price take the bottle from his hand. His eyes followed his lips as he took a long drink.

Graves sighed. "Good?"

"Cheap tasting." Price tried to tease him, but it fell flat.

The pretty blue eyes peering up at him wouldn't let him go. It was infuriating. He found himself leaning down, lips pressing against Graves's, tasting the whiskey off of them. His tongue darted out to deepen it. For a blissful moment, his mouth opened up to let Price in.

Then he was turning away. "This isn't going to fuck up your team, is it?"

Price blinked and it was like reality slammed into him. "It is."

Graves smiled sadly. "John, I'd love to. But I'd be a right ass fucking up what you got going on. I think I've done enough damage."

"It'd feel great. God, I'd treat you right."

He laughed and Price felt his stomach clench. The rest of the whiskey bottle was slipped into his hand. They shared another kiss, tongues chasing each other.

"If you're sober, and still want to, go ahead and call me."

#cod #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #Phillip graves #Price x Graves #Graves x Price #Captain John Price #jason aldean hater #kyle gaz garrick

[kiki-de-la-petite-flaque]

I'm not telling you to make the world better, because I don't think that progress is necessarily part of the package. I'm just telling you to live in it. Not just to endure it, not just to suffer it, not just to pass through it, but to live in it. To look at it. To try to get the picture. To live recklessly. To take chances. To make your own work and take pride in it. To seize the moment. And if you ask me why you should bother to do that, I could tell you that the grave's a fine and private place, but none I think do there embrace. Nor do they sing there, or write, or argue, or see the tidal bore on the Amazon, or touch their children. And that's what there is to do and get it while you can and good luck at it.

Joan Didion, The White Album

Ph Ted Streshinsky

#Ted Streshinsky #Joan Didion

[ninadove]

Hello, all respectfully, may I ask, why do you want emilie to be dead? I mean adrien deserves to have his mom back, don’t you think? You can answer it thru private chat if it makes you more comfortable.

No that’s perfectly fine! I love getting a chance to overanalyse and write down my own thoughts! 📝

So, I have a complicated relationship with Emilie as a character, but I don’t hate her by any means. I do believe she is a lot less pure and innocent than we were first led to believe, but that makes her much more compelling, so as far as I’m concerned it’s a great writing choice.

The reason I think she should be dead, or more accurately, stay dead (the nuance is crucial), is simply storytelling.

As fun as the show is, it is also pretty serious when it wants to be, and these 5 seasons were written with a couple of core messages in mind:

Part of the experience of being human is to accept that there is no magical solution to our problems. Sometimes things don’t work out, sometimes we lose the people we care about; and actions bring consequences, always. This is why using the Peacock carries such a heavy toll, even after it is fixed, and why the Lucky Charm primarily relies on Marinette’s intelligence and creativity (characteristically human qualities) rather than being an automatic problem solver.

Whenever these losses occur — you have to move on. Staying stuck in the past means depriving yourself of a chance to enjoy the present and plan for the future. All of the events of these 5 seasons were triggered by Gabriel’s inability to accept the concept of death, and by his attempts to drag all of Paris down the pits of grief (symbolised by the akuma attacks) with him — starting with his own son.

Of course, Adrien deserves to be happy and loved! And Emilie herself explains how it can happen:

By letting her go.

Adrien is an extremely strong and loving kid who, unlike his father, is able to shoulder the pain while still opening himself up to the world. Gabriel trying to bring Emilie back did nothing to fix the sorrow his son had to deal with; in fact, it cost him his other parent and a normal childhood in the process.

But the thing is — Adrien does not need Emilie anymore.

He has a girlfriend who loves him so much she gave his dad one last chance to make the right choice, despite all the pain he caused (and will likely continue to cause from the grave). He has a cousin who loves him so much he was willing to burn the world down, then help fix it to protect him. He has amazing friends who supported him through this entire ordeal (special shout-out to Nino, who has been on Gabriel’s case since S1 E9), even when he did not feel comfortable enough to share the full extent of the abuse he was going through. He has Amelie and Nathalie, who will provide him with the motherly love he needs in his life, and Tom and Sabine, who are already packing him his breakfast every morning because they’ve carved him a place in their family and hearts. Also, he has a cheese-eating demon who lives in his pocket.

No one is entitled to raising the dead, and Adrien would never even consider it. But he does deserve love and care and happiness, things his father deprived him of in his senseless quest to defy the laws of nature — things he was able to build for himself because he chose to be kind and vulnerable despite his grief.

Season 6 will be terrible on him, but he will come back stronger on the other side. And in doing so, he will send an important message to the core audience of the show: young children who will sooner or later have to mourn a loved one themselves, but will know they can be OK thanks to his example.

And you know, sometimes us adults need a little reminder too. 💚

#miraculous ladybug #adrien agreste #emilie agreste #gabriel agreste #hawkmoth #monarch #marinette dupain cheng #felix graham de vanily #senticousins #amelie graham de vanily #graham de family #nathalie sancoeur #nino lahiffe #tom dupain #sabine cheng #plagg #mlb spoilers #mlb recreation #tumblr asks #random ramblings #Basically this is a very long way of saying that raising the dead? Not Good #Don’t try this at home kids #S5 has given me a newfound appreciation for Adrien and Mari #Not that I didn’t like them before but now I LOVE them 💚💖 #Protect the boy 💚

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟒   ❛ 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐝 ❜   |   NAKAWE SACRARIUM, DEC. 1990

❧  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

❛ For the last time, they beheld her. They were each aware of the moment’s passage as it unfolded around them. The day was not endless. This was a transitory reprieve, and life would move on. In the privacy of the sacrarium, they regarded her under this immense burden of knowing. Her likeness would exist in pictures and videos, enlivened yet flat, and it would recede year by year into the haze of memory. This face—vacant and open, touchable, soft skin and fine hairs and curves of flesh that resembled their own—would decay. Already, it had. This was the uncomfortable truth boring into them as an unflinching stare from mortality’s own eyes. Water and time had begun the work, even as the red paint obscured much. Death reshaped her. It gave her a mask. The mask transfixed because it was her, but every second spent gazing at it haunted them.

❧ true fans will recognize the lil speech :^) anyway, funerals are hard. i wasn't sure what to write for this so, of course, i thought about my granny. she looked and felt different as soon as the life left her, and seeing her again later was surreal. anyway 2x, the context that didn't fit anywhere is that beatriz and rodrigo saw safya when she was found, but everyone else except arnaut saw her for the first time this day.

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Face to face, there was no distance from the fact that she was dead. Hands that once cradled them turned to stone as they gripped her ankles. Lips that uttered loving words refused to part. All warmth had long left, taking with it the possibility of a comforting embrace. She was cold and waxlike now—freakish in her naturality, entrancing and repulsive. Clinging, grabbing, kissing, petting, they were desperate to embody the finality of this farewell. She did not return their affection.

While the people of Uspana gathered to honor the princess, the family turned inward to conducted this ritual in private. A priest offered wisdom and ruminations as they wept. Beatriz laid stones of jade at her feet. They would accompany her into the first of her graves—currency in the underworld and necessary for any traveler. She and Matias wrapped themselves around the corpse and cried, not truly for their daughter, but for their loss. They all understood it was their duty to send her off in the proper way. Her body demanded care, and they gave it. Yet, through each motion, that distance remained. She felt nothing, and every touch was a comfort to themselves, even as the very reality of absence denied them any solace.

Later, they made offerings as her effigy, carved wood and painted red and attired in Safya’s things, was set ablaze. Her true body would go away with less catharsis. It would change like seasons. Some of the family would return in twenty years to collect the bones. Others, they supposed, may return sooner. When they did return to this place, they prayed to do so having been themselves, in some essential way, changed.

TRANSCRIPT:

[P V.O.] This is a place of circularity. We return again and again: to marry; with our children; to become ancestors.

[P V.O.] In old places, we convene to see and to be seen. Our lives are neither singular nor bound by our time.

[P V.O.] Returning to this site, among the dead, where others have gathered before and will gather after, we feel it most.

[P V.O.] Memory of ceremony resides in old places. We let it, here, like blood. Ritual is itself the flint—as it were, whetted by practice.

[P V.O.] Our place in the circle obligates us to be here and to embody ceremony. Yet, obligation is a matter of the heart, not the body.

[P V.O.] To be truly present is a choice—to live, right now, in the body that is excruciated by loss.

[P V.O.] This family marries suffering to devotion in a way that is perhaps violent to the self. Yet, that is indeed how we are asked to mourn.

[P V.O.] Mourning purges the pain, allowing us to be destroyed like the world itself has been. That is circularity, too, in a most sublime form.

#ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e02

[candy616]

Graves proposes to You 💖 (AI ASMR)

Graves will make sure the setting for his proposal is perfect and matches your character. It depends solely on your preferences and could be:

>A very sweet, private moment. Like there's nobody else on this whole world but two of you.

>A dinner and a movie, followed up with a walk through the park… And a picnic under the stars.

>A long walk on the beach when the setting sun casts a warm, soft light across the waves.

>A romantic place with flowers everywhere and a bottle of fine champagne. The place where you two have a connection with.

>A candlelit dinner, flowers and a kiss that never ends.

>A nice restaurant, your favorite dish, a big-ass bouquet of your favorite flowers on the table, the music is right. He makes sure you are totally relaxed, happy and feeling loved.

>He takes you on a vacation to somewhere you two have never been before. It would be a surprise. He'd take you to a beautiful spot, where the sun sets over the horizon, and wait for a perfect moment.

>A trip to a cozy little mountainside cottage where a fire burns in the hearth, to help keep the chill away.

>The most romantic place imaginable, like by a volcano in Iceland, or at a beautiful overlook somewhere… Maybe on top of a tall mountain in Mongolia, overlooking the Mongolian steppe. Something amazing like that.

>In the middle of desert, when the stars are out, and it's all quiet and dark. Just you and him.

>Or he can just say it to you holding you in your bed.

~Of course, the ring is expensive. Even if you don't care about things like that, Graves just wants to show how important you are for him. The most perfect ring for you, something that fits your personality, something you'll love for sure. A special kind of ring that makes you feel like the luckiest girl on Earth. A ring that puts a twinkle in your eye and puts the biggest smile on your face whenever you would look at it. The ring screams, "He wants you to be his".~

So finally, Graves looks you straight in the eyes, takes your hand. You feel like you are the center of his universe. He holds you tight and he says:

Transcript:

Alright, baby. I stand before ya with a proposition so heartfelt, it could cause the devil hisself to tremblee.

Ever since I first laid eyes on ya, I knew ya were somethin' special. There's just somethin' 'bout ya that makes me feel right at home. Mah heart has been yours since the moment we met. Yer laughter, yer smile, yer touch, and yer love, they've given me a sense of purpose that's beyond measure. Darlin', when I say I love ya, I mean it with every bone in mah body. Ya are the most beautiful soul I've ever laid eyes on.

When I'm with ya, I feel like I'm on top of the world. It's like all the pain, all the sufferin', all the heartache jest washes away like it never existed. I've fought some of the toughest battles imaginable, but they pales in comparison to the battles I've fought without ya by mah side, baby. Ah've seen the world and all its ways, and I've come to realize there's no one else who makes me feel the way ya do, sugar. Every single day with ya makes me feel like I'm truly alive, for real… Ya complete me, darlin'.

Now, listen here, love. It's high time we made this thing official. There ain't no one else in this world fer me but you. Mah heart belongs to you and only you. I found ya, I wanna keep ya, so… Will ya marry me, baby?

No, you know what? You and me? We're gonna get married, sweatheart. And that's not a question, that's a fact. I found ya, you found me. Let's commit, let's grow old together. You know I ain't bullshittin', right? 'Cause I gotcha and I ain't never gonna let ya go.. I see it in ya, I seen it since the first time we met. You and I knew this was gonna happen, ya know? I wanna be yer protector, yer shoulder to lean on, and yer biggest champion. Whatcha think 'bout that, darlin'? Let's face whatever the future holds together, as partners, as lovers, and as a team. I love ya, baby.

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

BONUS for gals who are into this. That was NOT my idea haha. I'm sorry.

Transcript:

Hell yeah, I'm serious. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. I wanna put a ring on that finger, swetheart. And a baby… A couple of babies… A whole mess of babies in yer belly… And when we're married, ya can call me Daddy. How's that sound, darlin'? Let's do it. Or I'll be very sad. Like really, really sad.

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

This beautiful thing by @bellgraves inspired this.

For you, sweetheart.💖

#That one was oh so hard to make on oh so many levels 🙈 #Three or four days #I don't remember #I cringed #but I'll never admit it haha #I need to sleep now #Call of Duty #Phillip Graves #COD #Graves COD #MW2 #MW3 #RVC AI

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 10)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (9) | Next (11)

Content Warning: NSFW/ 18+!! Nonconsensual sex and vore (soft and safe)

Word Count: 3.5k

------ Chapter 10: A Full Belly ------

King Richard Hardon casually sauntered off to his private quarters, accompanied by his shadow, Ajax. The four women remaining in the cage—Candy, Jackie, Eren, and Addison—trembled as his giant form loomed over them. He didn’t break his gaze as he burned with hunger and lust. In particular, he kept returning to Candy. Eren was pretty enough, Jackie was plain, and Addison was too twiggy for his preferences, but Candy was perfect. He drank in the delicious sight of her big boobs, shapely body, and dainty features. He couldn’t wait to sink his teeth into her and taste her. 

He climbed the stairs to his personal wing of the castle. Ajax stood guard at the door while the king entered his chambers. The room was dominated by a huge and luxurious bed with a sturdy wooden canopy frame that stretched from floor to ceiling. The bed was furnished with curtains of rich purple silk that matched the sheets. King Richard set the cage on his bed and sat down alongside it while his personal servant undressed him. Once his cumbersome outer layers of formal clothes were removed, leaving him in a soft linen undershirt and braies, he dismissed his servant so he was alone with his human prey. 

The humans quivered with fear as their little confined lifeboat wallowed in a sea of purple silk. Every time the giant shifted on the mattress, they could feel the influence of his immense mass bobbing their iron boat on the silky sea, the springs of the mattress creaking and popping under his weight. He sighed with contentment, as deep as a gale of wind in a storm, as he propped up his back on a plush mountain of pillows and stretched his enormous legs out like mountain ranges of hairy living flesh. The women shirked back at the sight, submerged in raw terror. Would this be their grave as the giant slaughtered them one by one, sinking them into the crushing darkness of his throat and drowning them in his stomach? He placed the cage in between his outstretched legs, right up to his crotch, with a smirk. 

“Miiiiilllliiieeee, darling! I’m back!” the king sang. He pulled aside one of the curtains to access the adjacent nightstand, which had a small glass enclosure on top. There was a human-sized bed, couch, and dresser inside, but compared to the giant room the furnishings looked like they were made for a doll. The tiny woman inside presented like a doll as well, with striking blue eyes reminiscent of marbles, fine blonde hair, and a slim, modest figure in a light dress. She had noticeable bags under her eyes, bruised with fatigue. The giant reached into her terrarium and scooped the woman out with his hand. 

“Oh, so lovely to see you, Your Majesty!” Millie responded. Although she injected a positive inflection into her voice, there was a distinct note of pure despair that bled through. She was not happy to see him, not at all. She relished the few moments she had alone, when she wasn’t forced to be anywhere near the giant king, whether she was riding in his pocket or his belly, and she resented the interruption. 

King Richard didn’t seem to notice her sorrow or care, however. He brought her up to his lips and gave her a sensual kiss that included rubbing his tongue over her exposed skin and even gently nibbling her with his teeth. She cringed, especially when his teeth gnawed on her breasts, but didn’t verbally protest. Her eyes watered with tears. 

“Aren’t you going to kiss me back, sweetie?” Hardon questioned. His words were saccharine, but laced with the undercurrent of a threat. Millie whimpered softly before reciprocating with a small peck on his lower lip. His lips peeled back into a smug smile that turned her stomach. 

“Oh, Millie, darling! How I adore thee!” the giant cooed, nuzzling her limp body with his nose. “Look, I brought you some new friends!” Millie’s frown deepened as the giant held her towards the cage so she could see the others. Jackie’s heart broke as she saw the poignant sadness etched into her expression. Millie gave them all a look of pained sympathy, cursed with the knowledge of what was to come. 

King Richard hummed happily as he dropped Millie onto the wide expanse of his belly. She didn’t try to run: She knew there was no point, and she’d never escape him. He gripped the cage in his fingers, opened the door, and wormed his giant hand inside. The women shrieked and clambered to avoid him as their world rapidly morphed into a living nightmare, but he easily pinched Jackie between his fingers and tugged her out. 

“No!” she cried. “Please don’t eat me!” The king sneered at her pleas. He obtained a vial of glowing blue fluid and dripped a single drop on her head. She shivered as the mysterious liquid was absorbed into her body. “W-what was that?” she stuttered. 

Hardon didn’t bother to explain. He loved it when his prey was frightened and thrashed in his gut, unaware of the effects of the magical potion that prevented digestion. “Hm. Your looks leave something to be desired,” he remarked, squishing her face between his index finger and thumb. Despite the situation, Jackie deflated a bit with his insult. The king played with her in his hand, feeling up her body as she squirmed, and cocked an eyebrow. “Let’s see how you look without that dress.” 

“What? No!” Hardon plucked at her fine dress and tore it off with ease. Jackie gasped, reflexively trying to cover up her nudity. The king grinned, stroking her up and down with his finger. She turned a ghastly pale shade as he raised the small naked woman up to his lips. “Stop!” 

She tried to kick him, but instead the giant caught her legs in his mouth and slurped half her body inside. She shrieked with terror. His lips curved into a leer as he sampled her exquisite flavor, clearly enjoying himself. Jackie clawed at his face as she was slowly sucked further and further inside, up to her belly, then her chest, then her neck, so only her head was poking out. She felt his enormous tongue wrapping around her body, sliding all over her skin as she was enveloped in heat and wetness. His teeth teased her, kneading her back and chest with the alarming reminder that he could bite down at any time and end her life. 

Jackie screamed, but she was cut off as her head was lapped into his mouth with the rest of her. The remaining group watched with terror as the giant’s lips and cheeks smacked and pulsed with movement, as he shuffled her around in his mouth. He paused and gave a full swallow, sighing with pleasure as her body slid down his throat. His neck throbbed as her small body passed through, to the horror of the other humans. Millie shuddered as his belly gurgled and filled out slightly underneath her. His crotch, too, bulged with arousal. 

“Mmmmm, what a treat,” Hardon praised, licking his lips. His gaze settled on the cage, his pale eyes flashing with ravenous energy. “Who’s next?” He reached his hand out again, sending his victims into pandemonium as they bounced off each other like ping pong balls. He snagged Eren and dragged her out by her leg, kicking and screaming as she swung upside-down in his grasp. 

“You repulsive ogre! Let go of me!” she shouted, brandishing her fist. 

The giant king chuckled. “Mouthy, aren’t you? Perfect. I like my girls with some spunk.” He flipped her around and slapped her into his palm as she swore at him with venom. A drop of liquid fell on her head and absorbed into her body like a sponge, making her tingle with an odd cooling effect. Another drop splashed on her neck, but this one was an entirely different substance, warm and wet and smelly, and Eren realized with disgust that it was saliva dripping from the giant’s greedy maw. 

Eren was filled with a white-hot rage as he began to tear at the stitching on the back of her dress with his fingertips. She felt helpless as she pushed against the folds of his palm with her hands, with no result. Her dress ripped at the seams and she felt his hot breath on her bare back as his face hovered over her. He ogled her figure with pleasure and gently ran the thick tip of his finger over her exposed shoulder blades and down her spine. Eren wanted to scream. 

With no other option available, Eren did the only thing she could think to do and bit the crease of his hand as hard as she could. The king let out a gasp of surprise as her teeth sank into his skin; his hold on her loosened enough for her to wriggle out of his grip. She took a wild leap of faith and jumped out of his hand, falling until she landed on his broad chest and tumbled down to his belly. Despite her disorientation, she scrambled to regain her footing on the squishy surface and sprinted away blindly as fast as possible, shoving Millie out of the way in the process. Her tattered dress was disintegrating, leaving her torso fully exposed as the ripped top dropped around her waist. She tripped over the bottom half of the cumbersome garment and ended up with her face buried in fabric. Before she could get up, she felt pressure from the pads of two gigantic fingers cinch her hips and she was thrust into the air swiftly enough to make her nauseous. 

“Nice try,” the king taunted, “but there’s no escaping me, you naughty little vixen.” He grasped the lacy hem of her dress and ripped the whole thing off with a flick of his wrist. His lustful eyes raked her naked form up and down as she persisted in fruitless struggle. His stomach growled and he raised her up to the wide expanse of his lips. Eren shuddered as the giant pair of pink lips parted like the curtains on a stage, revealing teeth draped in strands of saliva and moist darkness beyond. Eren cried out as the fingers forced her inside and the jaws closed around her, extinguishing the light. 

Just like with Jackie, the humans could do nothing but observe helplessly as the wriggling lump that was once recognizable as a person shifted from cheek to cheek. Candy fancied, at one point, she could even see the outline of a tiny hand pressing out against the skin, desperate for an escape. The king tilted his head back, allowing the tasty woman to slide into his gullet, before contracting his throat muscles in a mighty gulp. He traced Eren’s path through his esophagus with his finger, letting out a soft moan of pleasure as she passed into his stomach. Millie cringed as his belly expanded and twitched beneath her with a raucous grumble. 

“Ahhhhh...” the giant sighed, rubbing his belly with his hand. “I can feel them squirming inside, can’t you Millie?” He grinned at her expectantly, and she gave a small nod, her eyes swimming with tears. Without any more preamble, he reached into the cage and snatched up his next living snack, Addison. She didn’t make a sound, only flailing weakly in his fingers, as if too frail to properly resist. The king frowned with mild dissatisfaction as he examined her, picking at her feeble, matchstick limbs and rotating her in his hand. 

Hardon huffed. “Why would that lunkhead Chester approve this?” he mumbled. He stripped her clothes off, the grooves in his face deepening with his disgust. “She’s too thin. In fact, she’s half-starved.” He gave her a probing lick, causing her to whine with fear. “She doesn’t even taste that good.” Addison shivered, covered in spit. 

“Well, whatever.” The king dripped the magic anti-digestion potion on her head. “Down the hatch you go.” He dangled her over his mouth and nonchalantly dropped her inside. She squealed like a butchered pig as she disappeared into the void. Unlike with the others, the king didn’t toss her around in his mouth, instead opting to swallow her right away. Even though he considered the offering mediocre, he still smiled and massaged his belly with his hands as she joined the others in his increasingly full stomach, which gurgled noisily with the addition of fresh meat. “Not too bad, I suppose.” 

A bolt of electricity jolted through Candy as his wolfish eyes turned to her with avaricious yearning. “One more.” She scrambled to get away, pressing herself against the bars as if believing she could morph into a gelatinous ooze and miraculously squeeze through. His fingers pinched around her and pulled her out. He lifted her high in the air, bringing her in close to his face to admire her. Candy, roiling in terror, started to cry. 

“P-please... let me go...” she wailed pathetically, pushing against his fingertips. 

The giant man ignored her as he devoured her delectable flesh with his eyes. After placing a drop of the magic potion on her head, he began to take off her clothes, unwrapping her like a special present until she was displayed to him in all her feminine glory. “Beautiful,” he murmured, tracing his finger down her side. Candy trembled as he explored her curvaceous body with his huge fingers: bouncing her breasts; sliding up and down her thighs, inside and out; sensually touching her narrow waist, slim belly, and cute little backside. His lips parted with carnal passion as he leaned forward, closer and closer, over her and all around her with his overwhelming mass. She was bathed in humid breath. 

“You’re perfect,” he said reverently, almost in a whisper. “Oh lord... and I haven’t even tasted you yet...” His mouth watered with anticipation. He drew her in closer to his open lips, his tongue emerging like a primordial beast from the cavernous depths. Candy whimpered as the huge tongue slid over her frontal form, from her feet to her chin, bathing her in saliva. The king moaned with pleasure and continued to lick her like a lollipop all over, in all her sweet spots, waxing with gluttonous lust. 

As he tasted and teased her, he was overcome with erotic sensory overload and his hand slid down into his shorts. Millie sat dumbly on her plush belly perch, trying to block out everything that was happening around her and praying that the giant had forgotten about her as he moaned louder and jerked himself off. He began to nibble Candy with his lips, bringing her further and further into his mouth with every stroke of his lips and tongue. Candy struggled, but she couldn’t fight him as she was finally pulled over the threshold of his teeth. 

She cried out as the teeth closed around her and she was completely engulfed in the soggy inside of the giant’s mouth, surrounded by walls of bone rimmed with gums, with a fleshy tongue below and curved palate above. The tongue continued to wrestle her down, throwing her about, pressing her against the teeth, dragging her underneath into the hot meaty bowl full of drool below, weighing her down in a suffocating embrace. At the base of the maw, she could feel his blood pulsing through his veins in an excited rush. His moans of pleasure rumbled the stale air around her. 

The tongue scooped her back up and to her horror she found herself sliding back, towards the foreboding gullet that provided ingress to the throat. She screamed and tried to surge forward, but the tongue reared up and forced her backwards. Her feet sank into the precipitous drop below, and the throat muscles clamped down on her and dragged her under. She only had a moment to desperately claw at the squishy tongue before she was sucked into the abyss.  

Candy’s scream was choked out as the swallowing motion crushed the wind from her lungs. She sank down a terrifying distance, smashed on all sides, as the deafening boom of the giant’s heartbeat and breathing vibrated through his flesh. She struggled as panic consumed her rational mind, but the powerful esophagus clenched her so tightly that she couldn’t even push back, with her arms folded against her chest. Suddenly, her legs broke free and she wriggled them wildly as she was squeezed through a ring of muscle. 

She fell through open space into a lake of hot acid. The gastric fluid churned and bubbled around her with rhythmic motions from the wrinkled stomach walls, groaning and rumbling loudly as the stomach worked to digest its contents. Something snapped inside Candy’s mind at the sight and she flipped out, thrashing wildly in a futile effort to escape. She punched and kicked the walls and floundered as she was stirred in the current. She accidentally elbowed something soft that let out a squeak of pain. 

“Ouch! Watch it!” Eren hissed. Candy turned to behold Eren floating alongside her in the boiling juices. She looked scared, furious, and disheveled, but what caught Candy’s attention was that her skin was glowing softly, like a paper lantern. Candy glanced down and realized her hands and arms were glowing too, with an ethereal light that weakly illuminated the hollow cavity around them. She was even more baffled, disoriented, and shaken up than before. She didn’t understand why any of this was happening, and she was terrified of dying. 

“We need to get out of here!” she screeched, pummeling the squishy innards more. She bumped into Addison, who was huddled up like a lost child and sobbing uncontrollably. Jackie, too, was somewhere inside the stomach, her haunted howls of despair echoing in the fleshy chamber as she fought her gastric confinement.  

Candy lost it. She wailed and cried and bemoaned what a fool she had been, to think she even had a chance to be with the giant knight who was supposedly fated to be her lover. She should’ve never listened to that fortune teller, the deceitful old hag. She never expected something so horrible to happen to her, and now she was going to die because of her own stupidity. She wasn’t ready. She couldn’t accept her failure. Her sanity slipped away as she continued to lash out, embroiled in a flood of negative emotions: regret, pain, sadness, anger, defeat, and above all, terror. 

On the outside, King Richard belched with satisfaction and patted his engorged belly, which was quite full after being stuffed with four tasty maidens. He enveloped Millie, who was shaking, gently in his palm and pressed her firmly into the fat of his belly. “Can you hear them in there?” he asked her with a devious chuckle. 

Millie replied with a small nod. His stomach twitched and groaned with all the struggling going on inside. She could hear, muted by the thick walls of meat, tortured screams and loud squelches as the multitude of tiny prey panicked inside, not yet understanding that they were at least safe from digestion. She pushed against the giant’s belly with her palms, trying to pull away, but the giant king simply pressed her harder into his body, his belly jiggling as he laughed cruelly. Tears ran down her cheeks. She knew their pain all too well, having been ingested by the evil giant too many times to count. 

“There’s room for one more,” Hardon teased, tapping his belly with the fingers of his opposite hand. Millie trembled with dread as the color sapped out of her face. 

“No... anything but that...” she whimpered. 

“Well then. You know what I want you to do.” The pressure on her let up as the giant loosened his hand. Millie let out a shaky sigh and wiped her eyes with her forearm. She crawled on rubbery limbs down the curve of his belly, towards his groin. She could clearly see how sexually stimulated he was from devouring the tiny women, with his enormous erection rising above her head, dwarfing her. With another heavy sigh, and a sick twisting in her guts, Millie slid under the waistband of his braies to access the tall pillar within. 

King Richard reclined on his bed with sublime pleasure, folding his arms behind his head and closing his eyes. He moaned with satisfaction and shifted his legs while his hard cock was stroked up and down by tiny hands and limbs as Millie performed for him. He also thoroughly enjoyed the ceaseless squirming in his gut. Fresh prey was the best, with how lively and terrified they were. A smile graced his lips as he thought about his favorite new addition to his collection, the big-breasted blonde lady. She was both delicious and beautiful. As much as he adored Millie, he thought to himself that this new girl might be his favorite now. He would tame her, break her, and make her his own. She would be his forever. 

Chapter 11

#mawshot #soft vore #male pred #safe vore #vore writing #vore story #unwilling vore #unwilling prey #cruel pred #vore art #mouth #g/t vore #gt vore #endosoma #nsft #g/t fearplay #gt fearplay #female prey #mouthplay #fearplay #macro/micro #micro/macro #swallowed whole #vore stories #macro vore #giant vore #multiple prey #v.ore #v0re #v/ore

[heavyhitterheaux]

How Could You?

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: The angst train is leaving the station in 3...2...1...

Synopsis: Your husband has his suspicions that everything is not as well as it seems in the Harlow household and that you aren’t being honest with him.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

For the past few weeks, you had been running around trying to prepare for Jack coming home to the U.S. with the help of your manager Brandi, your make up artist and hair stylist Julissa, Metta, and your best friend Diamonte (Saweetie). 

In between doing your festival shows, you wanted to plan to do something special for him and show him that you were proud of everything that he had accomplished so far.

First Class had done better than either of you thought it would and you felt it was only right for it to be celebrated. 

You would do anything and everything for that man and you were going to make sure that he knew it. 

You just had to make sure that everyone kept it a secret from Jack so that he wouldn’t find out and spoil the surprise.

It was decided that it would take place in one of Atlanta’s hottest clubs, and the guest list would be family, his best friends, and people that he has met along the way of achieving all of his accomplishments.

You were even flying in his parents, your in-laws Maggie and Brian.

The party was set to take place a week after he got back so that you could have some one on one time with him with just the two of you.

Then you would tell Urban where to take him at a certain time and surprise him. 

There were nights that you got a little amount of sleep because you wanted for everything to be perfect. Only the best for your husband and nothing less. 

It was around one in the morning when you received a FaceTime call from your favorite person and eagerly answered.

“OOOHHH damn daddy you fine as hell. You got a girl?”

All Jack did was laugh before answering you and shake his head.

“I have a whole wife and she will kick your ass.”

“Well, she doesn’t have to know.” You replied while winking. 

“You not about to send both of us into an early grave. I think not.”

“I miss you so much. Will you hurry up and come back?”

“Just another day or so my baby. I miss you too. It’s definitely not the same without you being here.”

“I know because all of PG constantly needs a chaperone.”

“Well, we have Neelam.”

“But Neelam doesn’t know all of yall tricks and the stupid shit yall be pulling.”

“I... I can’t argue with that. But how are the festivals going? I see my baby looking like a goddess. You tryna make me have to cut somebody aren’t you?”

“Never that! But it’s going well. I can’t complain. However, I saw that video of that girl touching your face and you better be happy I wasn’t there because I would have rocked her shit into the next century. Like....”

“I know you would’ve and that was actually the first thing I thought of. I was like if Y/N saw this shit that girl would be dead.”

“I’m glad you know because no one touches what is mine.”

“And vice versa.”

“But, what are you still doing up mamas? It’s gotta be at least one in the morning over there.”

“I can’t sleep without talking to my husband first. You know this.”

“You know what? The next time I leave for an extended period of time I’m going to record my voice to help you sleep.”

“Oh my gosh, yes please. I know I’ll be out in less than fifteen minutes.”

“I got you mamas. I also got you a ton of shit over here. I can’t wait to show you.”

“Hmm, new purse?”

“Purses with an s. Plural baby.”

“Outfits?”

“Lingerie for my eyes only.”

“Damn, can’t wait for that.”

“We not leaving the bed when I get back. My hand just isn’t cutting it.”

“I can imagine. Once you had a taste of this, everything else is mediocre.”

“Cocky as shit for someone who is about to be begging me for mercy in less than three days.”

“You talk a good game Harlow, let’s see if you can actually back it up.”

“You asking for it now.”

“Always ready for you.”

“Take your ass to sleep, stink. You have a show later.”

“Fine, I am. I love you Jackman.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

“More than ranch?”

Jack had a look of disbelief on his face and he was surprised that you would even ask him that.

“Umm... baby...”

“You can’t stick your dick in a ranch bottle!”

“Well...”

“Jack!”

“I’m just playing mamas. Yes, I love you more than ranch.... sometimes.”

“You know what? Imma beat the shit out of you.”

“You do that anyway.”

“Goodnight, Jackman!”

“Night mamas. Love you.”

Jack was frustrated. He had been back for at least three days and out of those days, you had been blowing him off.

It hadn't been on purpose.

You wanted to make sure that everything was a go and ready for the party that would be taking place.

It just so happened that every single day a new problem would pop up that you had to fix. 

You kept promising him that you would make it up to him, but his curiosity was starting to get the best of him.

So, what did he do?

Elect his best friend to go with him and do some investigating.

You would use the excuse of having to meet with Brandi, but when Jack had asked her she got flustered with her answer and he just knew something was up and that she was trying to cover for you.

Jack and Urban were now sitting in his car across the street from one of the most expensive restaurants in Atlanta looking at you through a window sitting with an unknown man. They had followed you and Urban had felt uneasy about the whole thing. There was just no way in the world that you would cheat on Jack. He wasn’t believing it for a second, but his best friend felt otherwise. 

“Jack, you need to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“But, she’s been blowing me off since I got back. All to find out she’s with this dude in an expensive ass restaurant that I usually take her to. And the fact that she’s out and about where people can see her?”

“Y/N would never cheat on you.”

“Yeah, I thought the same thing until now.”

“Jack, come on bro. She’s not like that. I think you need to ask her.”

“All for her to lie to my face again? She’s been acting sketchy as hell.”

“There’s gotta be a reason for it.”

“And she didn’t tell you anything?”

“No, nothing at all.”

Which Jack thought was weird because you told Saweetie and Urban everything. 

“Yeah, I’m...” Jack made a motion to open the car door, but Urban quickly pulled him back. 

“You better stay your ass in this car until you know for a fact what is going on. Don’t go in there and make an ass of yourself.”

“Fine, I’ll confront her later.”

“Then whatever happens, we’ll deal with it.”

“Did she just....”

“No, she didn’t kiss him, they only hugged. Calm down.”

“Like that makes it any better.”

“Just wait it out.”

The next two days after that was the same thing.

You meeting up with another unknown man and they followed you.

Then the next day you actually did meet with Brandi and Saweetie when you told him that you were going shopping because the Golden Girls (your four puppies) needed new collars. 

All to come back home with no collars in hand, Jack was livid. 

It was now the day of the party and your husband was acting... weird.

He didn’t kiss you when you woke up.

Was dodging your hugs all day.

And just not being himself. 

It was almost time for the surprise party and you were currently in your walk in closet trying to decide on something to wear when Jack walked in. You wanted to have both of your outfits coordinate and had already picked his out. You just hadn’t gave it to him yet. 

“Hi, baby. You okay, did you need something?”

“Hmm, nope.”

“What’s wrong? You’ve been off all day.” You asked as you tried to give him a hug, but he dodged your embrace again.

“And you’ve been off all week.”

“Babe, come on. I told you I was just busy with Brandi. I’m sorry. I can make it up to you tonight.”

“Cut the bullshit because that isn’t true.”

“Uhh, what? I was with Brandi and Diamonte.”

Now you were panicking to try and come up with a quick excuse because you didn’t want him to find out. 

“You think I’m fucking stupid, don’t you?”

“Baby, come on. No, I don’t.”

"So, who the hell have you been sneaking around with these past few days?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Y/N. So, you think you can cheat on me and get away with it?"

"Jackman Thomas this better be a fucking joke because..."

"So, you admit it?"

"I didn't admit to shit and the fact that you think I would cheat on you!? How could you EVER think that?!”

"THEN WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN? YOU'VE BLOWN ME OFF EVERY SINGLE DAY THIS WEEK SINCE I’VE BEEN BACK!"

"I WAS PLANNING A SURPRISE PARTY FOR YOUR DUMB ASS!"

"Wait, what?"

"Because I've seen how hard you have been working and all that you had accomplished and I wanted to celebrate that. Between me doing festival shows, I’ve been planning this for weeks. I just had to tie up some loose ends this week to make sure that everything was good for tonight. Sorry for actually trying to be a good wife."

There were now tears streaming down your face as you quickly threw on some sweats and a t-shirt. You grabbed your purse and tried to make your way towards the door.

"Baby... wait a minute... I.."

"Just leave me alone. You've done enough by telling me that you don't trust me. Like I fucking love you and you know how much I do and I would do ANYTHING for you and just..."

"But I do trust you and I know that!"

"Apparently you don’t. Let my hand go because you are literally the last person that I want to be around right now."

“Baby, please.”

“Have fun at your party.” You snatched your hand out of his embrace and tried to wipe away your tears. 

You skip the steps two at a time to then be met with Urban at the bottom of the stairs. You take it that he had heard the entire exchange. He saw the tears streaming down your face and instantly felt bad. 

"Y/N..."

"I'll send you the address, just make sure he's there in 2 and a half hours."

“Where are you going?”

Without another word, you slammed the door behind you not having a destination in mind on where to go.

Your mind was blown.

He really thought that you would cheat on him. 

Taglist:

@harlowsbby

@babyharleezy

@hoodharlow

@stefansalvatoresgf

@jackiehollanderr

@primadxna-girl

@dessmxsworld

@cockslutslurper3000

@raelorns21

@variety-fangirl

@gbaabyyyy

@kamorsstuff

@harlowthot

@sinsandsuccubus

@curlyhairclub

@bootlegroach

@haylexo10

@thinkingaboutjharlow

@laylasbunbunny

@fluidsentiment

@charli123456789

@moody4world

@yourstrulymayah

@yana4life

@beanbagbitch

@alinadolans

@carma-fanficaddict

@minaxcarter

@arination99

@xjup1t3r

@venusvinc

@jacksmoviestar

@jackharloww

@midnight-star47

@jackharlowsbabe

@minkookie95

#jack harlow #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fic #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow imagine #urban wyatt #urban wyatt x black reader #urban wyatt x reader #urban wyatt fic #urban wyatt fanfic #urban wyatt imagine

[vbecker10]

The Blind Date? (Part 3 of 4)

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

Pairing: Loki x female reader

Warnings: fighting, arguing, threatening language, brief use of a gun, mentions of dried blood, getting kidnapped... twice?, hangry, mild swearing... no fluff yet but I swear it is coming in the fourth part and it will be worth it

Summary: Your friend sets you up on a blind date with someone she works with at SHIELD but you accidentally end up on a mission with Loki. Your date comes to an abrupt end when you realize Loki isn't the one Michelle meant to set you up with and his mission puts you both in danger.

@michelleleewise thank you so so so much for reading every single part of this in random pieces and completely out of order over the last few days lol I really appreciate all of your help and letting me bounce ideas off of you!!

Dividers by: @harlequin-hangout

(Y/N POV)

"What... what do you mean 'who's Michelle?' You definitely know her. She has purple hair and works with you at SHIELD," you explain and he shrugs. "She's the one who set us up tonight... You talked to her the other day and she said you were looking forward to going on a blind date with me?"

He shakes his head and leans back in his chair, "No offense to you, of course but I would never agree to go on a blind date. Thor has tried many times to set me up, here and on Asgard but I have never needed anyone's assistance acquiring a date."

"You're literally on a blind date right now," you say, gesturing between the two of you.

"I am not-" he starts but his words die out and his expression suddenly changes, as if he's remembered something.

"Look, if you've changed your mind about this that's fine, Loki. I can just leave," you say loudly. Your outburst draws the attention of the people at the next table and you notice how Loki seems worried they are listening. You groan in frustration then snap at him, "And next time you're on a date with someone, try not to spend the whole night looking over at the beautiful women at the next table."

"Please, keep your voice down," he says in a hushed tone. "Come outside with me and we can talk. I will explain but you need to calm down," he urges as he stands up and tries to take your hand.

"I am calm and I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm going home," you tell him, you stand up as well and pull your hand free from his.

You look just beyond Loki and see the men and women at the table nearest you leaving quickly. The older man is left alone at the table but only for a moment as he waves over three men who had been standing in various corners of the restaurant. He whispers something to the large men and points towards you and Loki.

"Great," you mumble at Loki, "Now we're going to get banned from here and I didn't even get to eat dinner."

"We will be lucky if that is all that happens," he says quietly.

"What are you talking about?" you demand but he doesn't answer. He turns slightly and takes something out of his pocket, placing it in his ear. "What the hell-"

"Be quiet," he says to you in a harsh tone. The three men approach your table and the older man disappears into the kitchen. Loki faces the men, putting himself between you and them and smiles apologetically. "I'm sorry for the disturbance," he offers, "My girlfriend and I were having a bit of a lovers quarrel but it's been settled and we were just leaving." He takes your hand and this time you don't pull away as he tries to guide you from the table.

"We have a private room in the back where you and your lady can sort out your... issues," one of the men says in a gravely voice.

"That won't be necessary," he replies and you squeeze his hand tightly. "She was right and I was wrong, which is usually the case as I'm sure you all know."

One of the men grabs your wrist and tries to pull you from Loki, "I'm going to have to insist you join us in the back room, Loki."

Your heart begins to pound faster as you look to the God of Mischief for help but instead he calmly asks, "Loki? Why on Earth would you call me that?"

"That's what she keeps calling you, isn't it?" the man who is holding your arm answers.

"Oh, that's just a pet name she has for me, I will admit it's a bit odd. I would tell you the story of why but... well it's very long and not entirely appropriate," he says with a wink.

"Is that true?" the man asks you and you nod quickly. "In that case, I think you should tell us the story behind the nickname. We're all curious, aren't we?" he says as he looks at the other two men. "Come now," he pulls on your arm again, "You can tell us everything in the back." As he starts to move you towards the kitchen, his jacket opens slightly and you catch a glimpse of a gun in a holster at his side.

"Loki?" you ask in a terrified whisper.

Loki's attention shifts from the three men to you and suddenly his appearance changes. Standing in front of you is a man you vaguely remember seeing by the bar earlier. "What the fuck-" one of the men can barely ask before his appearance shifts again and the waiter who spilled the water is holding your hand. Just as quickly, he becomes Loki again and the man holding you reaches into his jacket with his free hand.

"There's no need for that," Loki says calmly. He looks over at you and says, "We will go with you," and you nod slightly, not knowing what else to do. The other two men each grab one of his arms and you are both pushed towards the kitchen.

"Stay calm," Loki whispers to you as they open the doors to the kitchen, but that was easier said than done.

(LOKI POV)

"You've got to be kidding me, Laufeyson," Stark says loudly in your ear. "You're going to get this woman killed. You need to get the hell out of there now, before this gets any worse... if that's even possible."

"And remember, you can't just kill everyone," Rogers adds and you force yourself not to roll your eyes. "That place is full of innocent civilians and we still need to keep as much of the recon mission intact as possible or this will all have been for nothing."

The cooks and waiters in the kitchen expertly avoid eye contact with you and Y/N as you are lead through the room towards the metal doors. "These two were planning to dine and dash so we're taking them to see the boss," one of the men explains but no one acknowledges him. You imagine this isn't the first time the employees have witnessed people being dragged into the back rooms. You briefly wonder if any of those people had been able to talk their way out of leaving through the front door.

You can tell Y/N is scared and confused but you force down the growing feeling of guilt, you need to keep a level head to get the two of you out of this. You don't resist as the two enforcers push you through the metal door on the left, into the halfway you were in earlier. "This way," the man holding onto Y/N's arm grunts as he pulls her down the hall.

You hear Rogers say, "This isn't good." You grind your teeth to keep from asking if anything about your current situation was good.

He stops to unlock the door on the other side of the hall from the office. You remember seeing it on the floor plan and it was a room you had no desire to go into. Y/N tries to struggle as she is dragged into the room first and you are brought in only a few steps behind. The room is empty except for four large meat hooks which hang from the ceiling. Tattered rope hangs on the end of one of the hooks from the last individual who offended the mob. Trails of dried blood have seeped into the concrete, leading to a rusted metal drain in the center of the floor.

"If you're going to do something, I suggest doing it now, Laufeyson," Stark urges and for once you agree with him.

With the door still open, you easily pull your arms free from the two enforcers who had been holding you. Before they can react, you wave your arm towards both of them, slamming them into the blood stained tile wall with a green flash. They hit the floor hard, one unconscious and one groaning in pain as he tries to stand up. Without waiting for him to get to his feet, you wave your hand downwards and with another green flash his head hits the ground with a thud.

You turn your attention to Y/N and the man holding her, walking slowly towards them. He tightens his grip on her arm and pulls her in front of him as a shield. He takes out his gun and points it at you over her shoulder, his hand shaking. With a flick of your wrist, you let out a green flash which pulls the gun from his hand, sending it sliding across the floor.

"Let go of her," you order him and to your surprise, he does.

He quickly releases Y/N and steps to the side of her, his arms raised slightly in surrender as he backs away from you. Not willing to risk being followed, you wave your arm wide and he hits the tile wall hard, shattering a few.

You reach for Y/N and ask her, "Are you alright?"

She looks at you in stunned silence for a moment than suddenly, she raises both hands to your chest and tries to shove you but you don't move. She yells, "No! No, I am not alright! What the hell is going on?"

You take a lose hold of her wrists and lower her hands gently. "I told you, I will explain but we need to leave," you tell her. She looks towards the open door and then back at the three unconscious men. "Unless you would like to stay and see how long it takes them to wake up," you say when she doesn't move.

"Ready to go when you are," she responds and you nod.

You take her hand, keeping her close to you as you leave the room. You wave your free hand towards the door to the office and a green glow surrounds it momentarily. She looks at you questioningly and you answer, "Just making sure it's locked."

"Here, this door leads to a back alley," you tell her as you use your magic to disable the alarm attached to it. "Captain Rogers will meet us a few blocks away and bring us back to the Tower," you say once you are finally outside.

"I'm going to need that," you hear from the front seat and look up before you can even unlock your phone.

(Y/N POV)

Three blocks away from the restaurant, you and Loki finally slow down just as a black van pulls up next to you. The side door slides open and Loki tells you to get in. You do without question and he follows you, pulling the door shut as the van takes off. You take a few slow, deep breaths and sit back in your seat as the van makes a turn.

"Can you drop me off at the subway station coming up?" you ask and Captain Rogers turns around from the front passenger seat.

"Sorry Y/N," he says. "That won't be possible."

"What- how do you know my name?" you ask and Loki turns from you, looking out the window.

"We were listening," Tony Stark answers through a speaker in the front of the van.

"Why would you do that?" you ask.

"Loki was on his first solo mission," Captain Rogers explains.

"First solo mission..." you repeat. "Wait, I was part of some stupid mission?"

"Yes and believe me, none of us are happy about it," he answers. He turns to Loki who is still looking out the window. "Everything that happened tonight is going in my report. I think we're going to have to extend your probation."

"You're on probation?" you ask him loudly and he nods but doesn't speak. "Wait... but why can't you take me to the subway?" you ask as the agent driving passes the station entrance.

"You need to come back to the Tower and be debriefed," Tony says.

"Debriefed? But I don't know anything about what just happened and to be honest I don't really want to know. I want to go home, eat something with chocolate in it and go to sleep," you tell them honestly.

"I'm sorry, it's too late," Captain Rogers says.

You sit back in your seat again then take your phone out. You need to text Jess and Michelle, you have to tell them what happened and that you are on your way to the Tower. Maybe they would be able to meet you there and help you sort out what was going on.

"What?" you ask Captain Rogers.

He holds out his hand, "I need your phone."

"You can't be serious?" you ask, looking at Loki for help but he just stares out the window in silence.

"I'm sorry but its protocol," he shrugs.

"This is bullshit," you mumble as you hand him your phone then cross you arms and sit back in your seat.

Through the speaker in the front of the van, Tony says, "Language."

(Y/N POV)

You follow Agent Hill silently down the long hallway, there are five tall doors on either side with an agent posted outside each one. You try not to look as intimidated as you feel when she opens the third door, leading you into a small room. Your stomach drops and you immediately recognize this space, anyone who had ever watched a law enforcement show would know this was an interrogation room. There is a rectangular steel table in the middle with an uncomfortable looking chair on each of the long sides. The light gray walls are completely bare and there are no windows, unless you were to count the mirror on the wall opposite the door. You have no doubt the large framed mirror is a one-way window, an idea which makes you feel more than a little paranoid.

"No, there's been a mistake," you say to her, turning to leave. "Isn't there somewhere else I can wait to talk to-" the agent on guard at the door easily moves to block you from leaving.

"Someone will be in to talk to you in a few minutes," Agent Hill replies calmly and motions for the agent to return to his post. "Try to make yourself comfortable," she says and when you turn towards the harsh metal chairs she leaves the room.

You look quickly back at the door when you hear it slam closed, unable to move from shock you stand motionless in the middle of the room. After a few moments, you realize she was being serious about making yourself comfortable although you have no idea how you are supposed to do that. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself before you decide sitting still would probably make you even more anxious than you already are. You walk to the edge of the room and wander slowly around the space, the steady clicking of your increasingly painful heels is the only sound other than a steady flow of air from the vent over the door. After the tenth lap you begin to grow impatient and walk over to the mirrored window.

You knock on the glass and wait a few seconds before asking, "Is someone in there?" You aren't surprised when there isn't a response but you try again anyway. Knocking slightly harder the second time you ask, "Can I talk to Captain Rogers or... anyone?"

You pause as you realize you not only weren't told who you are supposed to be debriefed by but also why you would need to be. You only knew two things about the mission he was apparently on. The first being, the old man who owned the restaurant was clearly into something bad enough that the Avengers had taken notice of him and the second was that Loki had for some reason been required to pretend he was interested in you.

You decide to attempt to speak to someone one more time and knock on the window again. "I really want to go home. I swear I don't know anything, can't you just let me leave?" you ask but the only answer is silence.

You turn from the window and begin to pace around the room again, unable to stop looking at your watch every time you complete a lap. Fifteen minutes later you find yourself standing in front of the door, staring at the handle. You shake your head and reach out, gripping the handle tightly as you try to turn it but you knew nothing would happen. You twist the handle to the left then right and back again but it won't turn.

"For fuck's sake," you groan as you give up on the door. You pull out one of the chairs and it scraps loudly on the tile, causing you to wince from the sound. I can't be here that much longer, you think but you are beginning to wonder if SHIELD is planning on leaving you here all night.

Your stomach grumbles and you wish you had been able to eat dinner. You didn't even have a chance to finish your appetizer before everything went to hell. You lean back and stare up at the ceiling, counting the tiles out loud to distract yourself.

When you finish your count you check your watch again, it's just after 9 pm. You get up angrily, you had been locked in this room for almost forty five minutes. You knock on the glass with more force than last few times and demand to speak to someone. "I'm tired of waiting around in here. You can't just keep me all night. I haven't done anything wrong and I want to go home, now," you keep your face close to the mirror but you are unable to see beyond your reflection.

The silence means everything, you are going to be in here for a long as SHIELD decides to keep you. You pound on the glass one more time in anger, pain spreads through your hand and down your wrist. You sit back in the chair and hold your hand, slowly flexing your fingers.

"This is fucking ridiculous," you curse under your breath, a part of you wishing Tony Stark or Captain Rogers would at least appear to yell at you about your language. You cross your arms on the table and rest your head on them, "This has to be the worst blind date anyone has ever been on."

(Y/N POV)

The solid door slams closed, jolting you awake. You sit up quickly, your heart pounding as you look around the room and slowly remember where you are. Rubbing your eyes with one hand, you blink as the figure by the door comes into focus.

"Oh good, you're awake," he says as he walks over to the table. "Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD," he introduces himself.

You barely register what he said as you check your watch in disbelief, "I've been in here for three and a half hours!?"

"Sorry about that, we had to deal with a small... miscommunication," he says. He opens the folder in his hand and reads the contents for a moment before asking, "What's your full name?"

"Y/N Y/L/N," you answer, unwilling to hide the annoyance in your tone. He nods then takes a single sheet of paper out of the thin folder and places it on the table with a pen. "What is this?" you ask, picking it up.

"A non-disclosure agreement," he answers.

You look up at him quickly, "What?! I thought I was supposed to be interviewed or debriefed or something. I've been sitting here for hours for this stupid piece of paper?"

"That would be what the miscommunication was about," he replies as if it was obvious.

"You're freaking joking," you say, still in shock that this night hadn't ended yet.

"Do I look like someone who tells jokes?" he asks and you shake your head silently, biting back a sarcastic comment. He offers only a slight explanation for the extremely long wait, "Loki informed the team that you truly were unaware of any part of the mission so a debriefing wouldn't be necessary. Sign this and you can be on your way."

"And what if I don't want to sign it?" you ask, your anger at the current situation outweighting your common sense.

"It wasn't a request," he answers.

You glance at the paper, knowing you should at least skim it but you are too angry and tired and hungry to deal with it. You sign the paper quickly and toss the pen back on the table as you stand up. "Can I have my phone back now?" you ask.

He picks up the paper, putting it back in the folder then takes your phone out of his jacket pocket. "Agent Coulson will take you home now," he says, handing you the phone.

You momentarily debate turning down the offer but decide against it. On a good night it wasn't a great idea to take the subway at midnight alone and this certainly hadn't been a good night. "Fine, but he's stopping somewhere so I can get food," you respond as a man who you assume is Agent Coulson walks into the room.

"Sorry Miss Y/L/N, I'm only authorized to drive you home," he says and you sigh loudly. He holds the door open and you walk out into the hallway. "This way," he turns to the left and you follow him to the elevators.

(LOKI POV)

Thor stands by the door and waits for Stark, Rogers, Fury and Barnes to leave the room. You aren't in the mood to speak to your brother at the moment but you doubt that will stop him.

"You can yell if you would like, brother, but I'm sure Rogers covered how much of a failure I am already," you tell him as you walk towards the door.

"I'm not going to yell," he says calmly as you walk past him into the hallway.

"Ah, trying the 'I'm not mad, I'm disappointed method?" you jokingly ask and he follows you.

"I just want to know why you would risk being sent back to Asgard," he says and you stop. "This wasn't just another mission, this was your first one without the team. You were supposed to follow the plan and show them you could be trusted. Why would you endanger a civilian and gamble with the mission?"

You stand in front of him silently for a moment before answering. "I honestly thought the mission was simple enough. I should have had no issues planting the listening devices and spending the rest of the evening enjoying a meal with someone who... who doesn't think of me the way they all do," you gesture towards the empty seats.

Before your brother can respond, you see Y/N being escorted to the elevators by Agent Coulson. You take two steps in that direction and Thor puts his hand on your shoulder.

"Do you really think that is a good idea?" he asks.

"I just wanted to apologize to her for-" you start to explain.

Agent Coulson pushes the button to call the elevator and Y/N looks around slowly as if she is bored. She notices you and Thor, immediately turning away from you as she crosses her arms angrily.

"I have a feeling you might be the last person on Midgard she has any interest in speaking to right now," Thor says.

(Y/N POV)

You turn on the lights, lock the front door and sigh in relief as you pry off your heels, swearing you will never wear them again. You lean heavily against the door and finally take out your phone. You hadn't responded to your friends while you were in the car with Agent Coulson. You had been too busy trying to convince him that no one would notice if he stopped at a deli or a fast food restaurant for a few minutes. According to him, they would have and you finally gave up, spending the rest of the thirty minute car ride in hangry silence.

You stop in the hallway, mid-step at the sheer amount of messages and calls you missed. Michelle and Jess must have thought you had been kidnapped or killed and to be honest you did get kidnapped... twice. Once by whoever the angry men were at the restaurant and then again by SHIELD.

You open the chat between the three of you and decide you'll read all the messages tomorrow. The last thing you want to do right now is think about how tonight had officially been the worst blind date you or anyone else had ever been on. You decide a simple 'I'm home and I'm not dead' text will have to suffice. You type out the message, letting them know you will call them in the morning as you walk into your kitchen. Opening the fridge and take out a bottle of water then grab a package of pretzels from the cabinet.

You sit on the couch, tossing your phone onto the coffee table and slowly drink the water. You swing your legs up onto the couch and forget entirely about the pretzels as you close your eyes.

(LOKI POV)

"I still don't understand why I simply can't summon the weapons I need during training," you complain to your brother. "Why must I borrow their inferior ones. I will never use them in a fight."

"If you keep skipping these training courses, you won't have to worry about their inferior weapons because they will never let you out into the field again," Thor counters and you groan. The Avengers seemed to have a training course or seminar on everything, even how to fill out paperwork which you recently found out you are still doing incorrectly somehow. You were almost convinced that the Captain changed the requirements every time you submitted a form.

"Very well," you mutter in response as you enter the armory. You freeze the moment the door closes and Thor smiles at you.

"Something wrong brother?" he asks. You gesture towards the two woman talking behind the raised counter. "Oh, you know Michelle and Jess, don't you Loki?" The woman with the purple hair turns towards you and you find yourself thankful that looks can not actually kill.

"No, we've never formally met," you find your voice after a moment.

Thor walks towards the two woman, Michelle crosses her arms against her chest and watches you closely. Her coworker, with red and blue highlights, picks up one of the small throwing knives from the counter and slowly begins to play with it.

You nod awkwardly. "And this is Michelle. She heads up the research department that deals with biological and chemical weapons," Thor continues.

"Good afternoon," Thor smiles at both of them, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable you are. "Well Loki, this is Jess. She is a weapons specialist and runs most of the training simulators. You'll need to speak with her about signing out the daggers you want to use," he tells you.

"Hello," you say after clearing your throat.

"I'll leave you three to talk," Thor says as he backs away from you. "Oh, brother I was wrong. There isn't a training course today so take as much time with Y/N's friends as you need." With that, he slips out of the room, leaving you alone with two women who are less than fond of you.

You stand in front of them for a moment, trying to decide how to phrase your question. Thor knew you had been thinking about Y/N a lot over the last week and you felt as if you needed to apologize to her for everything that happened. You hadn't meant to put her in danger or have her locked in an interrogation room for hours. Truth be told, when you weren't trying to focus on the mission, you enjoyed the brief moments you had been able to spend with her.

"What do you want?" Michelle finally asks.

"I was hoping you would give me Y/N's phone number?" you ask. "I need to speak with her."

Please let me know if you want to be added or taken off the tag list 💚💚

@soubi001 @ace-of-gay @misunderstoodself @coldnique @lokiprompts @thomase1 @mochie85 @fi-recs-fics @huntress-artemiss @sititran @xorpsbane @kkdvkyya @lokisgoodgirl @muddyorbs @holdmytesseract @kats72 @avoliax @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @loopsisloops @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @high-functioning-lokipath @psychospore @dukes2581 @buttercupcookies-blog @animnerd @lokiswife-dark-fox-queen @laufeyson-16 @loki-laufeyson-1054 @pics-and-fanfics @coffeeorsomething-irl @crimson25 @simping-for-marvel @slytherclaw1227 @lokixryss @lokidokieokie @unlucky-number-13 @asuni921 @currish-rosewolfe @elizabethmidnight2017 @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @sunshineangel-reads @eleniblue @kikster606 @vickie5446 @kaogasm @msturi2u @mjsthrillernp

Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated 💚💚

#tom hiddleston #hiddlestoners #loki #tom hiddleston characters #loki laufeyson #twhiddleston #loki x reader #hiddlesarmy #loki odinson #loki x you #loki x f!reader #loki x female reader #loki x y/n #loki x yn #loki x female!reader #loki x fem!reader #loki x fem reader #loki angry #loki angst #loki fanfics #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x reader angst #loki x reader fanfic #loki of sassgard #loki of asgard #marvel agents of shield #agents of shield #marvel fanfics #marvel fanfic

[unicyclehippo]

Ameliorate?

her third meeting with imogen took place on the third, which launda appreciated very much. she admired the day calendar propped up on her desk—the big 3 stamped in black, and coffee - doctor temult looped excitedly across most of the page. beneath it, much smaller, was delivery GE74-226 in her assistant’s cramped and slanted lettering.

‘right, we’ve got a shit tonne of work to do today so whether the fuck is going on between you two, you can’t be an hour late again,’ ashton said, shouldering in through the closed door.

‘mister greymoore! what have i said about knocking?’

ashton dragged a curious eye over her office. ‘there’s no one here.’

‘it’s about etiquette! i could have been - oh, i don’t know - on the phone. or taking a private meeting.’

‘you weren’t.’

‘but i could have been,’ she insisted.

ashton sighed. ‘you want me to go back and knock, don’t you?’

laudna smiled brightly at the suggestion and nodded. ‘please. practice makes perfect!’

ashton sighed again, louder. he stomped out of the office and closed the door. laudna waited. and waited. she waited long enough that it occurred to her ashton had decided it wasn’t worth it and had simply left, which is when they knocked.

‘come in!’ she trilled. ‘good morning, mister greymoore!’

ashton rolled his eye mightily. ‘morning, doctor bradbury. can i run through your schedule now, or do i have to curtesy too?’

‘i’m not a monarch, mister greymoore, the knocking was perfectly adequate. and very well done. go ahead!’

he shook his head. ‘right. so, spanner in my perfect schedule for you, treshi called this morning. set up a compulsory wank session for all of staff, two to three.’

‘um.’

‘by wank,’ they elaborated, ‘i mean it’s gonna be bullshit. he’ll say how good he is and everyone’s gonna agree even if they don’t think it’s true.’

‘ah.’ laudna relaxed. ‘yes, of course, you mean it as a manner of self-gratification on his behalf. non-literal wank. how funny! though you must never,’ she said gravely, ‘say it again. it’s terribly inappropriate for work.’

laughter lit up ashton’s eye, green shining prettily. a big grin split his face in two. ‘sure, doc. i’ll remember that.’

‘like you remember to knock, i’m sure.’ ashton laughed at that, too, and laudna beamed down at her papers.

she wasn’t—had never been—particularly good with people. when ashton had been assigned to her, her first ever student, she had been sure that it would go terribly. and it had, for the first week. she had been controlling and stern and brittle. they had been brash and argumentative and, one might say, extremely anti-authoritarian. the second week had been not much better; after her poor behaviour, she had withdrawn, going to such agonising lengths to be direct and complete and courteous that it was better for them both if she simply never spoke at all. it was ashton, braver and better than she by far, who made the effort to try again, and so they had reached a tentative understanding and remained there for several weeks. right up until the hishari mask was delivered into her hands. that was when everything changed. not just between them but for the museum, for laudna. in the upheaval that followed—the recreation, the reveal, her lecture and curated exhibit of the hishari culture, her denouncement of hytroga’s timeline, her rising “stardom” and increasing public appearances—ashton had made themself indispensable. during the preparations, he had been knowledgeable and careful and, in those private moments when he thought no one present enough to notice, downright reverent. he loved their work, and if that had been the only thing laudna liked about him, that would have been more than enough. as it turned out, ashton was wonderful and she had the honour of front row seats, as they say, to witnessing ashton grow into a fine young man. as everything changed, ashton remained steady as a rock. grew with each challenge thrown their way into a veritable pillar. figuratively and literally—laudna had overheard teatime gossip amongst her colleagues that insisted ashton had become a “handsome guy”, “a hunk”, and “a juicy, prime slab of beef”, which was one of ashton’s favourite.

now, the proof of that was the pop of stitches in the shoulders of their coat as ashton dropped carelessly into the chair in front of laudna’s desk. the sound made her wince and she began to rifle through her drawer.

‘okay, so, schedule.’ he pulled it up on his tablet, squinting at it. ‘while you were off with seshadri—‘

‘she has a title, mister greymoore.’

‘—like i said, treshi called about the meeting thing. everyone important’s gonna be there—never been so fucking thankful to be a nobody in my life. right. first you’ve got a call with that, uh, religious nut over in tal’dorei, that’s at nine-thirty.’

‘mhm,’ laudna said, reprovingly, instead of repeating herself. mostly because although she knew miss pike trickfoot had a title, she couldn’t quite recall what it was. her eminence, perhaps? laudna scowled thoughtfully down at the contents of the drawer. where on earth was her sewing kit?

‘then quarter past ten you’ve got the delivery. the movers are taking it straight to storage, it’s gotta go through stasis before you can look at it but i blocked it out because i figure you’ll wanna oversee it anyway. twelve, you’ve got your coffee date,’ he said with an odd inflection, ‘two to three is treshi’s stupid meeting. don’t be late. lab time four to eight, and at five vudol requested your “expert insight” on that duskmaven statue—‘

‘why the air quotes?’

‘because,’ he said, patiently amused, ‘vudol doesn’t care what you say about the statue.’

laudna frowned at him. ‘i am the foremost expert on pre-reiloran marquet.’

‘yeah, sure. that’s not why they want to see you.’

‘then…why?’

‘because vudol thinks you’re hot.’

‘oh. really? hm.’ she pushed the drawer shut, drummed her fingers against it. her nails clacked against the glossy wood, the iron handle. ‘is that why they need so much help with their eighth century marquesian translations?’ ashton nodded, smirking. ‘i’m actually rather relieved to hear that, i thought somehow mistress seshadri had hired an idiot. um. would you send them one of your impolite emails telling them i can’t make it?’

‘honestly it’d be a fucking joy. how impolite?’ she see-sawed her hand. ‘got it. guess that means you’re not into vudol, then,’ ashton said, more statement than question. ‘makes sense. not really your type.’

‘i don’t—you always manage to turn work conversations into something else, mister greymoore—‘

‘it’s a gift,’ they shrugged.

‘it really is. you’re a very gifted conversationalist—‘

‘i’m really not, you’re just worse.’

‘—and a good friend.’ he looked away at that, scratched at the dry skin over his eyepatch. he did not, she noted happily, deny that he was her friend. ‘which is why i shall indulge—just this once!—in your inappropriate tangents and say that i don’t really have a type.’

discomfort forgotten, ashton turned back to face her so quickly she heard their neck crack.

‘you’re joking,’ he said, tone flat.

‘no?’

his mouth worked for a moment but he didn’t say anything, only stared at her wide-eyed. then he turned that stare on the little marquesian horse statue that sat pride of place on her desk. looking abruptly exhausted, he ran a big hand over his face, rubbed his right eye.

‘you’re not joking. oh my god.’ he huffed a laugh. ‘yknow, for someone so observant, you’re not very smart.’

an odd tangent, and slightly hurtful, but laudna couldn’t say he wasn’t right. she said as much, fiddling with the frilled cuff of her sleeves, and added, ‘i enjoyed book learning very much but my school life was interrupted often and troubled. in the end, my grades weren’t quite what i hoped they would be.’ a fond smile touched her lips and she said, lifting her chin proudly, ‘i did find my way here, in the end.’

ashton smiled. there was a strange expression on their face that she couldn’t place. ‘yeah. you did. some things take a little time, i guess.’

‘all the best things in life. now that’s a very good piece of advice, and a good quote. i wonder who said it first? regardless, tell that advisor of yours that i’m doing a good job, won’t you?’ ashton grumbled an agreement and stood. ‘ah - before you leave - your coat, mister greymoore.’

‘it’s fine.’

‘nonsense. i won’t have my post-grad wandering the halls looking like some dickensian urchin. coat, please.’ she stood, walked around the desk, and held out her hand for it, waiting patiently as he wrestled with his pride.

finally, he gave in, as he had every time she did this for him. hemming the ankles of his too-long slacks, taking in the neat button-ups. she had even mended the elbows of this same coat when he first came in wearing it, taking the tattered threads and returning it with fun elbow patches. it was about that time that he realised laudna enjoyed it and stopped fighting her so much; looking back, it likely helped that she had told him she enjoyed it. costuming had been her entry into history, after all, and she so rarely had time to indulge now.

ashton yanked his coat off and passed it over.

‘i think you’ll need a little more space in the shoulders,’ she mused, touching her thumb to the strained fabric.

‘don’t waste your time.’

‘now ashton, what did i just say? all the best things take a little time.’

did he understand what she was saying? that she regarded them, ashton, as someone quite wonderful and deserving of her time? he didn’t acknowledge it, storming out of her office with a rough grunt and a wave. it was fine. if he didn’t understand, she would simply write it effusively into his letter of recommendation when the time came.

//

#prompt fill #tagging my stories #I didn’t use the word but i meant to i just only wrote a quarter of the scene in my mind & ran out of time #this is for my modern au museum au i love it!!!! #laudna my beloved #imodna #only hinted at here but eventually it is #n I love laudna n ashton friendship it’s so good