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milliondollarwomen · 3 months

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Well Hello

tom blyth x fem reader

word count 1.9k

mature content 18+

https://www.tumblr.com/daemonslover/740468521162653696/well-hello-part-2?source=share

Part 2 ^^^^^

overview: you meet him and the bar and he has to claim you.

hey y’all this is my first time writing like this! so please let me know if you guys liked it.

As you entered the bar, you could hear people talking and drinks clinking. A captivating figure was leaning casually on the counter. His commanding British accent drew you in right away. You decide to head over his way to see if he will notice you and as you stand next him waiting for the bartender he looks at you. "Well, hello," this mysterious man greets me. His smile is charming without being overly cheesy and he possesses dark curly hair that isn't too curly, along with the most stunning blue eyes you've ever laid eyes on. He was probably wondering why I did not react after I stared at him for a while.

"Hi" you responded not knowing what to do or how to act and all he did was say hello but already you felt anxious. "Are you from around here, love?" The way it slipped from his lips, love, was enough to make you melt. "No, I just moved here for graduate school. I'm going to NYU, and you?" When you told him you were a graduate student, he tilted his head slightly, which made you wonder what it was about that interested him; however, you refrained from making too much of it. "Ah well, congratulations, but yes, I am, and I've been here for quite some time,"

you were intrigued and wanted to learn more about him. As he spoke, he sipped from his cup; you couldn't help but notice the way he held it, how it landed on his lips, and how his Adam's apple bobbled as he swallowed. It was enough to make your mouth water. It was puzzling to you how a guy you had only known for five minutes could evoke such strong emotions in you. "so, what do you do for work or are you in school as well?"

With a look of surprise on his face, he shifted his gaze towards you. "I do a lot of things, none of which concern you, dove, but I would love to buy you a drink. So tell me all about yourself." you can't say that you blame him for avoiding the subject; after all, you are just an odd woman who wants to know where he works or if he's in school. In the course of your conversation, you told him that your undergraduate major was sociology, that you were lonely here, and that you had hoped to make some new friends if you ventured out more. After blabbing your mouth for the next 30 minutes, you realized how open you were to this man you had never met. He may be a murderer for all you know. His eyes pierced through you as you pondered why you told him these things about yourself, and then he assertively said, "Tell me what you're thinking about." It jolted you out of your nervous thoughts, "I just told you about myself and I have no idea who you are."

Unexpectedly, he grinned at you. To him, it seemed like you were exactly where he wanted you to be. Before you stepped next to him, Tom spotted you—even though he hadn't planned on meeting a woman tonight. He could tell you were a newcomer to the city. Your awkwardness when approaching the bartender for a drink and your rushed search for someone to talk to was clearly noticeable. He could see right through you. He took pleasure in the idea of dominating others, particularly those who sought out his presence and placed their trust in him. Claiming that you were lonely and in need of someone sparked his interest in you.

He grasped your fingers, entwined them, and rubbed circles around your thumb. "my love, let me apologize for my rudeness earlier I just don't open up to many people but you have made me feel comfortable." This made you feel relieved. "I'm a teacher, but I grew up in Birmingham, I moved here a couple years ago for the job and have loved it ever since" He realized he needed to exhibit his softer side to entice you back, and that is exactly what he did. The way your eyes softened when he discussed relocating here and teaching made him want to do unexplainable things to you. This was so easy for him all he had to do was throw the word love or dove around and you would cave.

After that, you gradually picked up on his flirting, massaging your thumb, and calling you pet names. With the courage of alcohol, you thought you could seize this opportunity. You move forward and whisper in his ear, "Well I think teachers are sexy," and you can see his jaw clench as he realizes how forward you are being with him. He glanced at you with passion before grabbing your waist. You were so close you feared you'd be unable to breathe. "Don't start something you can't finish," his aggressiveness made you weak in the knees. You began to feel the warmth rise between your legs. All it took was you to look at him like you were begging for him to be inside you. he grabbed your arm and lead you out of the bar. "you're coming home with me" this instantly made you regret your decision, you'd thought it be fun to tease him but you didn't think he would take you home.

Before he called a taxi, you looked at him with nervous eyes, "Honestly I should get going, I just moved in and need to get settled I-" before you could finish your sentence, he pulled you to the side and leaned into you, "Oh dove, you can't tease me in there and expect to get away with it" he lightly grabbed your throat and ran his hand up to rub his thumb across your mouth, "You're going to be a good girl okay?" This made you think this man is bad news, but his dominance over you gave you chills. "okay I'm sorry" was all you could manage out of your mouth.

When we arrived at his place, all you could see was how immaculate and tidy it was. Coming from college, most boys/men's homes are awful. After scanning the room, he observed how interested you were. Simply adoring you. You look over at him as he sits on the couch, straight passion in his eyes. This made you want to puke since you knew what he wanted. "Come here" he said, making your stomach drop. you cautiously approach him, and he places his hands on your shoulders and forces you to your knees. "Now I just met you and I understand you may not know how things work but teasing me and then trying to back out isn't going to work dove" As he reprimands you, he effortlessly puts his thumb into your mouth. He moves it around, gets wet, and rubs it against your lips. Your eyes were wide and large, ready for his next move. This makes your panties soaked for him.

He keeps a close eye on me, knowing that you have no idea what his next move will be. With that, he unbuckles his pants and removes his boxers, revealing that he is very well endowed. His cock is extremely hard for you. You observe how the veins transport so much blood to the tip. It's crimson with precum. "Now be a good girl and suck my cock," he demands. You shove him into your mouth and beginning to bob your head back and forth. He immediately begins to grunt as he watches you suck him off. "Fuck, you're being so good for me," he says. It makes your pussy ache for him. Looking up at him and seeing him appreciate your lips around him only makes you desire him more.

You get bored of giving him head, which makes him angry. He grabs the back of your head and fucks your mouth till you are unable to breathe. After he is pleased, he pulls you up and clutches your neck, "You will stop when I tell you to stop." This instills terror in your eyes, which turns him on and uses to fuel himself. He pushes you onto the couch and begins pulling your clothes off left and right. He hovers over you while you lay there naked and exposed. "Please touch me" you implore. "Please what?" he taunts you, as if your pussy isn't throbbing to be touched. "Please, sir, please touch me" and he begins to rub circles on your pussy, causing you to jerk and squirm. He enjoys witnessing how easy it is to fulfill you.

"Oh fuck, don't stop," you moan, and he promptly stops. "You don't tell me what to do, I've been too passive with you; you need to learn a lesson," he says as he flips you over and shoves his cock inside you. His size made you shout out, unable to adjust. After a few strokes, pleasure begins to surge in your stomach. "Sir, you feel so good." Those words caused him to slam into your tight pussy even harder. "You're such a good girl, taking all of me in your tight pussy." Hearing him speak to you in such a humiliating manner turned you on. His cock began to twitch inside you, eventually spilling all of his seed. He pulled out and watched you collapse on the couch, watching all of his sperm run out of your pussy.

"you are mine now"

Two weeks later

It had been two weeks since you last saw the man you met at the bar, and you still hadn't gotten his name. You awoke this morning ready to begin the day because it was your first day of graduate school. You were worried but eager to begin courses. You'd gotten up, showered, blow-dried, and styled your hair. You wanted to make a good first impression because you did not know anyone yet. You put on light makeup and got dressed.

Fortunately, when shopping for apartments, you discovered one close to campus, so you could walk to your first class. Today, you had your first class at 9:00 a.m. Walking through New York, you simply absorbed everything in, watching people and soaking up your surroundings. You had a feeling this was the right place to be, and you were excited for the journey to begin. When you arrived on campus, you entered the building and found your classroom. You arrived a little early, so you decided to walk in and take a seat. There were a few students already in the room.

The girl sitting next to you looked over and smiled, "Hi, my name is Emily," which let you relax even more. "Hi, my name is y/n." With that, we began talking about where we were from and what other classes we were attending. The class became larger, and it was finally time to begin. The professor strolled in and said the normal hey, my name is yada yada. After reviewing the curriculum and taking notes, a man walks in. "I'm sorry for being late, professor; it won't happen again." Before lifting your head, you knew that British voice. It made you shiver in your chair. "Sorry for the interruption, class. This is Tom Blyth; he's been working for me for two years and will be assisting this semester." You cautiously raise your head, hoping it's not who you think it is. And there's the man you met in the bar, smirking at you.

#tom blyth #coriolanus x reader #tbosbas #yn #billy the kid #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coryo snow #coryo x reader #coryo smut #coryo snow smut #coriolanus snow blurb #corruption kink #doctor kink #naive girl

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bluhourz · 1 year

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when you get hurt

Having a crazy tall boyfriend had it perks. Like being able to put your head on his chest when you hug, how he intimidates anyone who makes you uncomfortable as soon as he walks over, and how he can reach everything on the high shelves for you. The last one was a problem when he wasn't home though. Hence why you shakily stood on a chair trying to reach the cereal he placed on the highest shelf in the kitchen.

"I swear it's like he forgets how short I am," you huffed as you strained forwards.

Just as you felt the box touch your fingers the chair gave way underneath you. This is how you found yourself stuck at home with a cast covering your left leg. Hiding it from Yeonjun was not the best choice you could have made but you knew how he would react and you didn't want to distract him. You decided to just tell him when he came back home.

Finally the day came and Yeonjun was coming back home from the USA. You have been missing him like crazy, like you usually do, but you knew how big it was for them to be performing there. Looking at your leg you felt a bit nervous about what he would say. You didn't have long to worry about it before he burst through the door.

"I'm home baby!" he yelled with a big smile on his face. He was expecting you to be running towards him to jump in his arms like you usually do. Instead he saw you smiling sheepishly on the couch.

"Junnie," you said as you tried standing up.

As soon as he saw your cast he dropped everything and ran over to your side.

"No, sit down," his hands gently pushed you down again as he crouched in front of you, "What happened? Why didn't you tell me? Do you need me to get you something? No, wait. First, how in hells name did you even do this? Did you try dancing to Crown again? You know I said I would teach you when I came back." Yeonjun had a frown and a massive pout on this face.

"No, I was trying to get the cereal that this guy who has like 80% legs put right at the back on this highest shelf possible. It's not that serious though," you laughed.

"Jagi, this is serious," his voice showed how hurt he was feeling, "How could you not tell me? You're hurt. And you have been all alone. Why have you been trying to deal with this by yourself?"

"I've not been by myself," you sighed. You knew he was angry. He had the right to be. "Y/F/N has been coming around almost every day to help me."

"You know that's not what I mean," Yeonjun ran his hand through his hair as he also sighed, "How could you not tell me that you broke your leg? You know I would've flown down immediately."

"Which is exactly why I didn't tell you. Imagine what MOA would say if you just didn't perform at Lollapalooza. As a fellow MOA I couldn't do that to them or to me."

You tried to joke with him to lighten the mood but it didn't quite work. The frown stayed ever present on Yeonjun's pretty face as his eyes stayed on your leg.

"Baby, please don't be upset with me," your voice was soft as you took his hands in yours.

The slight way he leaned forward into your touch gave you hope. Finally, he let out a big sigh as his eyes met yours.

"I'm really sorry I didn't tell you. I just didn't want you to worry when you had such an important show. I'm okay though. Really."

He stayed quiet as you spoke, trying to explain yourself. His eyes didn't leave your face now. You gave one last smile to convince him you were okay.

"Really? You promise?" his voice was soft as he asked.

"Really."

Carefully, Yeonjun placed his hands on your cast. He inspected some of the drawings and messages your friends have written down so far. Finally, he found one that managed to make him smile.

"Who just drew a butt?" he chuckled.

"Ooohhhh, so that was Y/F/N. You know the time we went to the river for the picnic?"

And so you two shared the stories of what you have been up to while he's been gone. You were just happy to be together again, forgetting briefly about your injury.

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yyawnjun · 1 month

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LOVE GUIDE (SAY YES) chap12

yunjin and chaewon were waiting for you to speak, as you sat outside the bathroom door in complete silence. you could even hear your breathing and your heart beating so fast?

on that night, you finally admitted to yourself, and to your best friends that kwon soonyoung was more than just a project partner…

indeed, during the time you spent with him, you noticed that your heart might have skipped a few beats (let's not forget that he fainted after receiving your gifts) and that every time you told him something, he made an extreme effort not to stare mesmerized at your moving lips.

also you could always feel your real happiness when you texted each other at night, and when you couldn't stop laughing together.

your conversations were at ease, and in that short time, you discovered numerous similarities between you two - you understood that he had no idea what "baroque" was; you were similar in many ways, not all.

again, it was during that night that you admitted to your friends that you had let him pretend to be an expert in that art movement just so that you could observe him trying to pronounce the correct name, and show his "deep knowledge" in the days to follow.

you also planned to show your gratitude to him in an indirect way. you were ready to suggest that he also use the concept of animals, keeping in a sketch the tiger's striatum as the main theme (when you had first met, the third thing after his name and a failed pick-up line had been that he loved tigers).

his ability to make you smile and blush had touched your heart, which you had worked so hard to keep safe for fear of the awful consequences. you were afraid that opening yourself to love would end up in a lonely frigid cold; nevertheless, he was able to make you feel a comfortable warmth that seemed endless.

"is this "falling in love"? am I now ready and willing to change myself to be loved? to let the old me die to be reborn and achieve the completeness given by love? should I then take this step, trusting the only way to fully live is to love?"

you had spoken those words all in one breath. so fast that your friends were still looking confused in the first few minutes, they were still trying to understand exactly what you had said.

"All right! I'm thankful you said it out loud girl… you seem to be questioning your existence. However, I can tell you based on my little experience that yes, this is this love," yunjin said.

"that's where you overthink must come from." chaewon added.

they both appeared calm, and such a reassuring smile - you could sense the unconditional love in their gaze.

"anyway…it is not that serious, right?" you uttered, a little afraid of ruining the moment.

you three started laughing and nodding, and rather, the tension in the room dissipated. your anxiety at openly declaring that you liked Hoshi faded, and instead, it was finally starting to give you that satisfying rush of nervousness. the faint thrill you get in the early stages of a crush, when your hopes are as high as the mountains and the sun, a metaphor for love, gets to embrace you close.

"I like him. I like Hoshi."

you instantly chuckled as the girls drew near to you, and hugged you while wearing mock-surprised expressions; many of your worries from the previous few weeks also suddenly disappeared.

it was already late at night, and you were too tired to even consider the possible consequences of a relationship between you and your crush. before the final project, you would have spent many days together, so there was plenty of time for everything to work out, right?

chap11 // chap13 ; m.list

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summary: It is clear to everyone that Kwon Soon-young has a huge crush on the model student Yn. But can Hoshi, a passionate and funny stylist make her fall in love in just a month? What if he followed a weird LOVE GUIDE, that he found in the school bathroom?

。　　　　✧　　　　⁺　　　。

a.n. HII after a rlly long break i am back!! hope y'all missed a bit this funny smau, and i hope you will like this chapter. we are slowly reaching the end, but i promise there's still a funny plot twist who's waiting for our protagonists,, (text + 0.6k wc)

taglist(33/50): @alsktudy @kissesfrmwonwoo @marsstarxhwa @haohyo @wonwooz1 @wonwoos-wineparty @mhlsymlysn @nishloves @punkhazardlaw @manooffline @kflixnet @minhui896 @azkahanif @woozixo

@chimmy-bts @luvhuihui @wonraiwoo @keeboismine @teenyfinds @ninetiesbitches @astro-doll-the-star @bangantokchy @meowwyoong @dahbee8 @ivehypnosis @chweverni @miriamxsworld @cottoncheol @caratboy

@gigiiiiislife @isabellah29 @forrhoshi

send an ask or comment under THIS post to be part of it !!

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raifuujin · 17 days

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M27 Spoilers

Okay, so. My thoughts.

First off, the cousins thing. I'll be honest, I fully thought the movie was going to go with a common ancestor route instead of the more direct dad's being brothers. Obviously that didn't turn out, but considering they also brought in Okita and his face, it would have made a lot more sense to just go further back and also leave explanation for the other same-face Gosho boys that are scattered around. But I guess that wouldn't have been dramatic enough, so oh well.

I'd still probably ship KaiShin. The cousins thing really doesn't bother me when they don't even know (because nobody in this series talks about any family until it has maximum audience whammy). I see some people who are lamenting, because it makes things uncomfortable for them, and that's fair. I don't see it quite as bad as like. Leia and Luke from Star Wars, or the more personal Layton and Descole from PL, both pairs being direct siblings instead of first cousins, but plenty of people still probably view it as too close. Also, if anyone is familiar with the hiimdaisy Ace Attorney comic with Apollo and Trucy and Phoenix is supposed to tell them they're related and Does Not time it well. -finger guns- It would make a great parody comic idea for this KaiShin situation. (I might do it myself if no one else does, but would Not be soon.)

Other people bring up that Gosho mentioned much, much earlier that there was a reason Kaito and Shinichi look alike. Which I did remember, but the thing about that is. That I don't trust Gosho in the slightest. Like, did he actually plan out Yuusaku and Toichi's separated twins backstory at that time, or did he have a general idea that he'd be making them familial related somewhere in their tree? Some people truly thought Kaito and Shinichi could be the brothers, with the Kuroba's adopting for some various fandom-created reasons. Or other, far more dramatic direct relation. Could Gosho's comment have just been him making a joke that the 'reason' was him thinking about them having the same inspiration? How serious was he meant to be taken 20 years ago?

Many people saying 'of course they're related, they look exactly alike':

1) Sameface syndrome with characters goes well beyond Kaito and Shinichi. There were so many protoypes of characters, or just matching looks to character types, of course not everyone is gonna hop on the 'well duh, they must be related' train. It's nice to feel vindication for headcanoning them as family, but don't make it sound like people are stupid for being upset. There's very little to tell what's lampshading and teasing vs 'no, really, they're gonna be related to each other'.

2) The common ancestor explanation would have worked perfectly fine, and honestly, the fact that Toichi and Yuusaku are twin brothers separated through divorce who happen to both have stayed in the Tokyo area (mostly) while both being internationally famous and maintaining contact with each other and sending gifts even when one of them is publicly dead. Sounds goddamn stupid. (The brothers idea would probably have been fine and plausible, it was all that Extra that pushed it into 'okay just stop, this sounds like a load of contrived bullshit'. How did no one during the 'reveal' of that go 'um, I know this is how you want this connection to go, but can we make it sound more plausible/real?')

Because, Gosho clearly didn't plan on them being related all along. That's probably what actually bothers be about the contrived connection (since the real impact to KaiShin is relatively small). It's very obvious that he just drew his male protags for quite a few stories looking very similar. (Usually in his image, to an extent, though that's usually just mentioned for Kaito, specifically.) It was also clear that when he had Kid make a surprise appearance in DC, there really wasn't supposed to be a connection. Did he come up with it on his own? Only after people asked about it? Did he go 'you know, I might could connect the two for fun'? I don't know. I don't trust a man who created Sera's concept based on a cool female detective and wrapped her up with Akai and made the whole stupid family thing, and who changed Amuro's planned role as a bad guy on a whim because he was too cool to be bad, to have actually planned out this family connection all along.

And even with all that, there's also the issue of revealing this information in a movie. People have had arguments about movie canonicity for years, and yet this all gets mentioned for cinema shock value. I don't mind the using extra characters, or making things more action packed than the manga would allow, or even stupid things like Kidnichi 200 times. But this? This is asking for chaos. It feels like a big clusterfuck of yes, no, maybe, for how important this is going to be going forward, because we don't even know if Gosho means to make use of this info for the mangas at all, or if it's going to remain background information from a movie that may or may not even be relevant to know. Except as a wink to the audience and a middle finger to shippers, I guess.

(There are pluses to this, which is general thinking about the implications of this family dynamic and how chaotic things could actually get or how things got to be how they are already. I'd like to know what exactly Yuusaku knows about his brother's status and if his 'friend from interpol' could be used to connect to Toichi's whole. Legally died but is still alive and being an a-hole to his son by letting him go into the profession that was trying to kill him.) ((Yes, we're still gonna murder Toi, especially since his amnesia out is clearly off the table. We don't know enough about what Yuusaku knows, but I can't even say he's on thin ice because the chances of him knowing a lot about Kaito's situation is too damn high to let him off the hook.))

...Anyway, that's obviously the main drama, but side note that I'm also mad because movie being canon or not aside (I adopt movies as canon, especially newer ones, but people can also ignore them without loosing manga compliance really), the issue I have is the further blurring of MK and DC connection. At this point, it literally is just Akako being the crux of the 'are they the same universe or aren't they' argument, and it's literally never gonna get answered because Gosho refuses to even let her show up in DC for anything. You truly can argue either way when she's just not shown. And even though it won't happen, it's to a point where they feel so obviously the same universe that I hope Gosho just let's Akako do a cameo at the end of DC just to mess with people. But regardless, making MK only characters directly related to DC characters is. Maddening for that whole argument. (Sure, Toichi has appeared in DC before, however, the movie goes out of the way to add that extra 'fuck you' to the audience by revealing not just Toichi being alive and texting Yuusaku casually, but the reveal is in his fucking. Corbeau outfit. Which. Corbeau is 1000% MK only knowledge, so there's not getting around that no one would know that character unless they've read MK.)

And last note, the one other spoiler I've seen mentioned is the failed Heizuha confession and just. The reasons for failing get dumber and dumber and just add to the mess of spoilers coming from this movie. Oh no, Iori, the former government agent dude working for the rich girl love rival for Heiji's affection, dropped a flashbomb at the exact time Heiji confessed, so Kazuha never heard it. I don't think the spoilers I saw ever clarified if he was doing something and it was coincidence, or if it was intentional, but. God the fails being turned into elaborate jokes is getting. Ridiculous. I don't even care if they get together in canon, I'm not super invested in the ship, but I feel like even if I did want them to get together, there's. Literally zero hope for any build ups at this point. You can't keep leading up to it and pulling it away, people are gonna stop caring. At this point, half the people invested are just going to give an exasperated 'finally' when it happens, instead of actually being excited at this point, it's just tiring.

I hope the rest of the movie is at least entertaining. Fun action packed eye-candy fluff to help numb the stupid 'important' scenes. Spoilers might feel ick, but it's in a vacuum of reading words about scenes on their own. (Which probably won't change the Yuusaku scene at all, but Heiji's confession is. Probably an 'okay, here we go, what happens this time' thing that's better if you're already just there for entertainment.)

Edit: Someone has now basically confirmed with their own watch that the movie is fun, and the bombshell of lore is at the very end.

#dc spoilers #That's one post V:#Maybe I'll wait until all the MK chapters are out to make a post about. The thing going on there #I also am not a fan of that writing for being a lazy made-up-when-people-showed-interest-in-something. Thing

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meowmeow-motherfucker · 6 months

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Covenant- Chapter 2

Summary: With the five year anniversary of the attack on New York approaching, Odin and Fury come to the agreement that an arranged marriage between Asgard and Earth would show good faith toward all future interactions. When Odin refuses Jane’s candidacy, Agent Coulson is tasked with finding a suitable wife for the prince of Asgard.

Pairing: Loki x OFC Claire

Warnings: Odin is a bad parent, arranged marriage, sexist societal norms, Loki being a dick

Read it on A03 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51197938/chapters/129363727#workskin

Covenant Chapter 2

New York

The following day, after a night of drinking, eating way too much greasy pizza, and binging action flicks, Claire went back to talk to Thor. The reality of her fate hadn’t quite settled in yet and Claire wanted to get some answers before she had time to overthink.

Claire had half expected Clint to drop from the vents again, but her elevator ride went undisturbed. It took her longer to find Thor, because people kept stopping her to congratulate her or talk to her. She hadn’t considered how quickly the news would have spread, and wished the floor would swallow her whole.

While the fifth person was talking her ear off about how lucky she was, Claire finally spotted Thor and Jane.

“Nice talking to you, gotta go!” she bolted toward the couple, leaving the woman in the dust. Thor turned toward her thundering footsteps and grinned, waving excitedly.

“Claire! How do you fare?” Thor asked as she drew near.

“Um…surviving,” Claire mumbled. “Do you have a minute? I was hoping to pick your brain.”

“Of course! Anything for my new sister!” Thor said cheerily, wrapping her in a tight hug that made her spine pop like a sheet of bubble wrap. “Are you preparing for your journey?”

“Yep. Totally,” Claire lied, wincing as he released her. “Actually no, I’ve been too focused on everything that’s about to happen to even think about packing. I was hoping you could tell me about Loki.”

“Ah,” Thor said gently. He turned to Jane and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Excuse us, my love, I shall be back soon.”

“Okay. Bye Claire.” Jane offered her a small wave, which Claire returned before she and Thor left the room.

“What would you like to know?” Thor asked as they walked toward the elevator.

“What the hell am I walking into?” Claire asked. “Loki wasn’t the most sane person when he came here, and he’s been in prison for the past five years, right? So safe to assume, he’s a basket case.”

“The years have not been kind to Loki, it is true,” Thor mused. “When I saw him last…he was not well. But I don’t wish for you to despair- he will not harm you.”

“I know- the contract is very clear,” Claire shook her head. “I can handle myself; that’s not- look, I know about what he was like when he was here, and clearly his mental state hasn’t improved since then. And I can’t exactly judge, but I need to know. What was he like before?” Claire asked. “I can work with shitty mental health, but didn’t you say he was at least a decent person when you guys were younger?”

“Oh yes,” Thor grinned. “Loki has always been mischievous, but underneath he was studious and honorable. He will treat you as you deserve.”

“So you think we’ll get along?”

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Thor said quickly. “You both are strong-willed, but in time I think- I know you will come to understand one another and who knows? Perhaps you will grow to love one another.”

“Yeah, that’s what every girl dreams of; maybe falling in love with her husband,” Claire snorted. “God, what was I thinking?”

“You were thinking to spare Jane and I from being forced to live a lifetime apart,” Thor replied. “You sacrificed your future for ours. For that I thank you. It was most admirable.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Claire brushed him off, the sentimentality making her feel nauseous. “I expect a fantastic wedding present.”

“Name it, and you shall have it.” Thor said with all seriousness. Claire didn’t really want anything, and she’d been joking about the gift.

“A talking llama.”

“A what?”

“A talking llama!” Claire insisted.

“I have never heard of such a thing.” Claire slapped Thor’s bicep as she laughed.

“I have faith in you, big guy,” she cackled. “Now, what else can you tell me about him? What was he like when you were kids?” Thor smiled.

“Have I ever told you about the time Loki stabbed me?” he asked excitedly.

~~~~

The two weeks waiting for Njord to return passed both too quickly, and too slowly. During the day, Claire spent her time going through her things and deciding what would go with her. Her furniture was sold, books were sorted, clothes were folded. She put in information requests for any and all intelligence S.H.I.E.L.D. possessed about the god of mischief and to her surprise, received it in less than 24 hours. Records was notoriously slow, but she supposed the fact she was about to marry the guy meant she had a right to file requests being fulfilled expediently.

Her nights were spent doubting every decision that led her here.

With one week burned, Claire shifted into research mode. The intelligence folder was lighter than she was hoping for, so she turned to the greatest possible resource: the internet. She spent days scouring every corner of the web, padding her intelligence folder as well as she could.

Phil came by several times to help her pack. Since she was traveling via bifrost, Thor had advised against taking too much at once. Phil helped her decide which books to put into short-term storage. The clothes and books she decided not to keep were hauled away by junior S.H.I.E.L.D agents to be donated. Phil made arrangements for whatever food she didn’t eat to be donated to a local food pantry.

With two days until her departure, Phil was at her apartment once again to go through the bags she’d packed and make sure she wasn’t forgetting anything. Claire was becoming slightly unhinged as her time on Earth dwindled. She’d made a list of every food she needed to eat ‘one last time’, and decided to spend every penny she had on food, booze, and books.

“Are you sober enough to have a serious conversation?” Phil asked.

“Sure,” Claire said, taking another sip of her whiskey. She really wasn’t, but she didn’t care. “Shoot.”

“What are you planning to do about your special project?” Claire’s heart twisted. Her mother’s murder, her ‘special project’ as she and Phil called it, had never been solved. Orphaned at sixteen, Claire had been trying to solve the mystery ever since. Fourteen years later, Claire had identified a number of Hydra agents who’d been present, but she still didn’t know why her mother had been targeted. Why she had been targeted.

Phil was the only family she had left. He’d been in her life since she was a child, and had taken her in after her mother’s death. He’d been the one to nudge her in the direction of S.H.I.E.L.D, sponsor her late entry into the academy. He’d also notified her of an opening on Captain Rogers’ S.T.R.I.K.E team, which would have been an excellent addition to her resume.

It also would have given her an opening to question Brock Rumlow, but Rogers picked Rollins instead. She was still pissed about it. For all his talk about equality, the man still seemed to favor men over women.

But in the massive disruption that occurred at the DC headquarters in 2014, her suspicions about Rumlow had been confirmed. Both he and Rollins were confirmed to be Hydra, as had many other agents she’d befriended over the years. Friend had turned against friend, not just in DC, but at every headquarters S.H.I.E.L.D operated out of. A number of the agents on her list were confirmed Hydra agents, but it was difficult to extract information out of a corpse.

“I don’t know,” Claire said softly. “There’s not much I’ll be able to do off-world.” The thought made her burn with rage. Her mom deserved justice. Putting the investigation aside, for any reason, made her beside herself with guilt. Working for S.H.I.E.L.D was different- her work as an investigator of 0-8-4’s allowed her to travel far and wide, and poke her nose where it didn’t belong, something she used to further the investigation into her mom’s case when she could.

Once she moved to Asgard...everything else would come to a standstill.

“Leave me a list,” Phil said. “You still you have the DNA from the crime scene, right?”

“Of course.”

“If anyone on your list gets injured, I’ll get something to compare to what you’ve got.”

“How are you going to get anything out of Medical?”

“If you must know, one of the staff owes me a favor,” Phil replied. “It’s not the end, Claire.” He knew how deeply this affected Claire. The death of her mother hung over her like a dark cloud, and as the years passed with one dead end leading to another, her guilt grew.

“Feels like it.” Claire drained her glass and set it aside heavily . Silence settled in the apartment as Claire

“ I got you something,” Phil produced a small wrapped package, holding it out to her. “Here.” Claire leaned over to grab the package, eagerly tearing into the paper to reveal a thick book on Norse mythology.

“Thanks, Uncle Phil,” Claire laughed, thumbing through the selection of tales. “I’m sure this will be very helpful.”

“Of course. I’d hate for you to go to Asgard without knowing anything.”

“ You’ll go with me, right?” Claire focused on the cover of the book, fingers trailing over the intricate knot work illustration. She glanced up, her eyes full of sudden doubt.

“ Of course I will. Don’t worry, we’ll make sure you show up in style,” Phil assured her. “But first, you need to sober up.”

~~~~

Asgard

For the first time in nearly five years, Loki woke in his bed in his chambers. It was still early in the morn, before the palace residents came alive to assume their duties. Servants were no doubt already awake and bustling about, preparing the morning meal and helping prepare their betters for the day.

As if on cue, Loki heard the main door to his chambers open. Within a few moments, Loki’s personal servant Astrid entered his sleeping quarters. He watched as she set about opening the curtains and putting away his laundered clothing. She disappeared into the large bathing room off his sleeping area, and he heard her start running a bath for him.

It was all so familiar and comforting. Like he’d never left. Loki’s eyes began to sting, and he was grateful to still be under the blankets. He absolutely was not crying. To cry over something so small would be foolish, indeed. He was not a child.

“Good morning, Your Majesty,” Astrid called to him gently. “I’ve started your bath.”

“Good morning Astrid,” Loki replied softly. “It is nice to be back.”

“It is nice to have you back, sire. Now come along, today is a big day for you.” Loki stomach sank like a stone.

His future wife arrived today.

Not for the first time since his release from prison, Loki wondered if he’d been a fool to agree to this.

“Come, come!” Astrid chirped, pulling the blankets down from his face. “Yes, yes, I know, but you cannot meet your future bride looking like a ragamuffin.” she chastised him when he groaned. She ushered him into the bath quickly, making quick work of wetting his hair.

“Gods, Astrid, must you remind me?” he sputtered as she scrubbed his scalp with determination.

“Oh, hush. One should think this is a happy day!” Astrid replied as she worked. “Perhaps it is simply because I have cared for you since you were a boy. To think, you will be married soon, with little ones of your own!”

“Ugh.” Loki groaned, sinking down into the water to rinse his hair.

“My goodness,” Astrid said as she began to scrub his skin. “If I did not know better, I would say His Majesty is not looking forward to meeting his intended.”

“Of course I’m not,” Loki grumbled, arms crossing over his chest as he scowled at the sudsy water. “I may be out of prison but I’m not free, Astrid, not really.” Astrid made a noise of sympathy as she scrubbed his shoulders.

“Sometimes what we want blinds us to what we need,” the older woman said wisely. “This could be a blessing in disguise.”

“It feels like a death sentence,” Loki spluttered as Astrid dumped water on him. “Well it does!” The woman clicked her tongue at him in disapproval.

“I’m sure she is perfectly lovely. No doubt this will be a big change for her as well,” Astrid said as she climbed out of the stone tub. “I shall leave you to collect your thoughts. Do not dawdle, Your Majesty.” she gave him a knowing look before leaving him alone in the bath. Loki sank into the water up to his nose, blowing bubbles in the cooling water as he exhaled. Astrid was right. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable.

Loki dried his body with magic as he walked out of the tub, making his way to the changing area where Astrid waited to help him dress. He didn’t speak as she wrangled him into his leathers with practiced precision and combed his hair.

“There. You look very handsome,” Astrid said with satisfaction as she straightened one of the panels on his chest. Loki noticed her eyes misting, but he supposed the room did need dusting. “Do try to be charming, won’t you?”

“Yes, of course,” Loki rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Astrid.” She curtsied as well as her aging knees allowed and he left without a backward glance.

~~~~

“You’re pacing.” Frigga said from her seat. Of course she was calm- her life was not changing for the worse today. Throughout breakfast and his morning’s preparations, Loki had felt increasingly ill at ease as the time passed. Based on the slant of the sun’s morning rays, he had barely twenty minutes of freedom left. The bifrost had already announced the arrival of the delegation from Midgard and his future wife. Loki pulled on his collar, convinced he could feel it tightening around his windpipe.

“I am tense.”

“Anyone could see that, my darling. Relax,” Frigga coached him, setting her needlework on her lap to look at him consolingly. “What troubles you?”

“Aside from the obvious?” Loki scoffed. Frigga’s gaze turned scolding before she resumed her needlework.

“I ask because I care.” she murmured, lancing Loki with guilt. He sighed, moving to sit beside her and letting his head fall back against the wall in exasperation.

“I am going out of my mind with worry,” he confessed. “I know nothing about her! What if-”

“Darling, you will exhaust yourself with that line of thinking,” Frigga said gently. “What is it exactly that worries you so?”

“What if she despises me like everyone else?” Loki hated how small he sounded, like a child whining to his mother. It was a valid fear, one he hid deep inside himself.

“Nonsense. She will love you.” Frigga abandoned her needlework to brush an errant hair from his face, the love in her gaze searing him as always.

“You know this for a fact?”

“A mother always knows.” Frigga said simply, her sly smile making Loki think she knew more than she let on.

“What did you see?” he asked. He did not fully understand his mother's gift, but he knew enough to trust it. “Mother, please tell me something!”

“You know I cannot!” Frigga argued. “To do so would risk everything, and I’ll not risk your future happiness.”

“Happiness?” Loki couldn’t help but scoff. “That could mean anything.”

“Precisely. Anything is possible, ” Frigga smiled warmly at him. “Now, are you prepared to meet your betrothed?”

As ready as he was to see Thanos again.

“How do I look?” Loki asked nervously.

“Very handsome,” Frigga tugged at a panel on his chest, adjusting it ever so slightly. “Remember to be courteous. This is a big adjustment for both of you, but more so for her. She will likely be overwhelmed. She has left behind everything- for you.”

“I did not ask- yes, mother,” Loki grimaced as Frigga continued to fuss over him. “I will remember.”

~~~~

Claire felt ill, and she blamed it entirely on that awful mode of transportation. The bifrost was breathtaking in beauty, but traveling inside it was like being sucked into a powerful vacuum. Everyone in the small party from Earth was disoriented and looking a little green around the gills as they reoriented themselves. Njord, of course, looked perfectly at ease, and Claire hated him a bit more for it. The smug man had been all too eager to whisk away from her home, watching on impatiently as she’d said goodbyes to the few people who’d come to see her off. Phil had traveled with her, of course.

“Welcome to Asgard.” A rich, velvety voice boomed from beside them, and Claire looked up to see a tall, broad shouldered man in golden armor. He pulled a massive broadsword from its resting place in the center of the floor, resting his hands atop it as he regarded them coolly. If Claire’s book was right, she was looking at Heimdall, the ever-watchful guardian of Asgard.

“Lady Claire, this is Heimdall. He is the keeper of bifrost and a faithful guardian of Asgard,” Njord explained. “Heimdall, this is Lady Claire. His Majesty Prince Loki’s intended.”

“My lady,” Heimdall gave her a respectful bow. “I hope you feel welcome in your new home.”

“Thank you. Nice to meet you.” Claire nodded respectfully as Njord complained that they should hurry.

“And you, young mortal.”

As Njord led Claire and Phil from the golden dome that housed the bifrost, they were awestruck by the sight in front of them.

The rainbow bridge stretched on ahead of them- for miles it seemed- with endless ocean on either side. Pristine beaches were visible in the distance, beyond were fields of such rich green Claire was reminded of Ireland. Tiny specks of farmland were visible past the open fields, crosshatching lines of crops jutting up toward the sky.

But beyond that-

“Holy shit.” Claire muttered what they were all thinking.

The golden (literally gold, if Njord wasn’t kidding) palace stood tall and gleaming above everything around it. It was behemoth, a grand sprawling beast that shone like a diamond in the early morning sun.

“That will be your new home, Lady Claire.” Njord said proudly as she gawked at it open-mouthed. His judgmental gaze dropped to her gaping jaw and Claire shut her mouth lest he comment on her teeth. “Is it not most impressive?”

“It’s something, alright,” Claire replied. “It’s very different from what I’m used to.”

“Yes, well,” Njord sniffed. “Some things can’t be helped,” He shrugged when Claire glared at him. “Come along.” He urged the two of them along the bifrost, leaving the golden dome and Heimdall behind. They walked in awed silence, Claire and Phil occasionally pointed objects of interest.

The sun had already risen yet the moon still hung in the sky, bright and full behind the mountains in the distance.

They spotted buildings built into the mountainside shaped like temples, libraries and universities. It seemed like there was something to see everywhere they looked.

They passed through a golden gatehouse close to shore, and two guards joined their small group to escort them through the city to the palace. Beyond the gatehouse, they passed through the fields and farmland they had seen from the bifrost dome. Eventually, the rural landscape began to bleed into small town-esque land, populated with homesteads here and there, but the landscape changed again shortly after, the houses growing more in number and closer together as they approached the city.

“The city surrounding the palace is divided into sections. There is some farmland near the shore, which we’ve just passed through. The areas surrounding the palace are more densely populated.” Njord said in a bored tone as they passed into the city itself.

Here, the streets bustled with activity. Overlapping shouts from merchants interspersed with guards calling to each other as they patrolled, the occasional bleat from livestock, all over a low hum of people chattering. Though it was early morning, people milled about shopping, working, shouting and laughing as they went about their day. The buildings on this street were clustered together like gossiping women, the streets paved with cobble stones. It was quaint and charming, and Claire wanted to stop and inspect the colorful stalls but Njord urged them on.

Claire would have liked to slip by unnoticed, but the guards and probably the obvious non-Asgardian clothes that Phil and Claire wore made them stick out. It didn’t help that the crowd parted as they walked; people stopping what they were doing to gawk at them. One little girl watched Claire with wide eyes, her round face lighting up with glee when Claire waved at her. Further ahead, one child ran into the street, a dark haired woman pulling him back into the crowd by his little arm.

“Do not engage with them,” Njord instructed from behind Claire. “They are beneath you now.”

“They are not-”

“Yes, they are,” Njord said sharply. “You are to be a princess. The first princess of Asgard in a millennia. They will be fascinated; that is natural. But you cannot indulge them.”

“I hardly think waving-”

“That is my point, Lady Claire, you do not think. You are not here to think.”

Njord was two syllables away from getting stabbed. Claire remained silent as they continued walking, her curiosity getting the better of her as the streets began to change. The streets leading toward the palace remained well-kept and attractive, but others leading deeper into the city grew dark with shadow despite the sun fully beating down. Claire paused at the mouth of one of the streets, looking down the long lane with curiosity. She could see dark shapes sitting in doorways, debris floating along the grimy cobblestones.

“What’s down there?”

“Those are the slums, Lady Claire,” Njord’s lip curled with disgust as he spared the street a cursory glance. “You’ll do well to stay away from that area.”

“Yes, it would be terrible if I got some poor on my fancy new clothes.” Claire snapped. Njord narrowed his eyes, reaching out to pull her along. Claire pulled away from his grasp, following behind stubbornly when he began walking toward the palace again.

“ Speaking of clothing,” Njord said in a clipped tone. “Once we reach the palace, you will have an opportunity to change out of...whatever this is.” he gestured toward her.

“No thank you,” Claire replied. “I will change when I want to, not when you tell me to.”

“Do you not wish to make a good impression upon your new family?” Njord asked. “Although I suppose it is better they see you as you are, so that your transformation will be all the more impressive.”

“I think it would be better if you stopped talking,” Claire growled. “You’ve made it clear you don’t like me, and I don’t like you either, so let’s just get where I need to be and then we don’t have to speak to each other again.” One of the guards escorting them coughed, his cheeks growing red beneath his helmet. Njord glared at the man with fire in his eyes, and the guard sucked in his cheeks as his companion cleared his throat.

“That is a most excellent idea, Lady Claire,” Njord huffed, ignoring the guards trying to contain their laughter. “It is not much further. Come along.”

The golden palace loomed larger than ever now. The noise of the marketplace had begun to fade. In front of them, the cobblestones stopped, the path turning smooth as the streets of the city continued on to the left and right. Njord continued onto the smooth path, leading them to another gate. As they approached, the gate opened, letting them see the ornate gilded doors beyond. Njord led their small party through the gate, the guards flanking the gate bowing respectfully as they passed.

The gilded doors opened before they reached it, revealing another pair of guards and an older woman awaiting them.

“Welcome to Valaskjalf,” the woman greeted them with a curtsy. “Please, allow us to take your things.” two men stepped forward to take Claire’s and Phil’s luggage, whisking it away without a backwards glance.

“Lady Claire, Son of Coul, this is the head housekeeper of Valaskjalf. She oversees everything within these halls.”

“It is an honor to meet you, Lady Claire.” the woman curtsied again.

“Nice to meet you.” Claire replied, smiling awkwardly.

“Your rooms are already prepared for your arrival, and I shall be glad to direct you there myself,” the woman said. “Of course you will each have a staff assigned to you, but should either of you require anything, please do not hesitate to send for me.”

“Oh, thank you- wait, staff?” Claire asked in confusion.

“Yes, of course,” Njord replied with a bitter laugh. “You must forgive Lady Claire, she is not used to such finery. But of course, she is expected in the throne room and cannot see her chambers yet.”

“Surely the lady wishes to change?” the woman looked at Claire questioningly.

“The lady has already decreed she did not wish to,” Njord replied. “Isn’t that correct, Lady Claire?” he preened in satisfaction. Claire wanted to punch his teeth in.

“Yep.” Claire said through gritted teeth, smiling reassuringly at the housekeeper.

“As you wish, Lady Claire. I will be happy to direct you to your chambers when you are ready.”

“Thank you,” Claire replied, shooting a dark look at Njord. “Shall we?”

“But of course,” Njord nodded. “This way please.” He led them deeper into the palace, down long winding halls with cavernous painted ceilings and lit torches. Claire felt almost as though she’d stepped back in time. The city outside looked like the animation of Beauty and the Beast come to life, and the palace ceilings made her think of the Sistine Chapel.

There were no windows in these halls, the only light coming from the flickering torches. Claire could see daylight up ahead, so she kept walking and tried not to think about Game of Thrones. The dark hallway finally ended, spitting them out in an open-air passageway lined with columns. Beyond the columns Claire could see a sprawling garden, filled with tall flowers swaying in the delicious breeze. She could hear the sound of moving water from somewhere in the garden, and Claire inexplicably felt at peace. Her nerves dissipated as she followed after Njord, his figure turning a sharp corner before two massive golden doors came into view. Torches and guards flanked the doors, their armor glinting in the flickering light from the torches. Identical hallways branched to either side and Claire wondered where she would end up if she followed them. As the trio approached the guards opened the golden doors to allow them entry, and Claire stepped into the fanciest room she’d ever seen in her life.

Everything was gold. The marble pillars gleamed in the natural light coming from the high windows lining the walls. At the far end of the room, an old man with frizzled white hair sat upon a throne, with a middle-aged looking woman in a blue dress standing to the side, waiting for them.

“Soooo, how are you feeling?” Phil asked as the doors to the throne room closed behind them. Claire had been tense before they arrived in Asgard, but the altercation with Njord was close to putting her over the edge.

“Honestly?” Claire asked as Njord began his over-the-top introduction. “Decidedly unhappy. With Njord, with the whole situation in general. Really; arranged marriage? That’s the best way to form an alliance nowadays?” she scoffed.

“You agreed to it.” Phil deadpanned as Njord was dismissed. Claire locked eyes with the emissary, glaring at him as he shuffled back toward them. He passed them on his way out and Claire turned back to Phil.

“I’m claiming temporary insanity on that one,” she said bitterly. “You know how I feel about marriage in general, but arranged marriage?! It’s like a social experiment gone wrong.” Let’s watch as we force two strangers to cohabitate and fuck and hope they don’t kill each other!

“I’m not thrilled either, if it’s of any consolation.” A voice beside her said. Claire whipped around to see a dark haired man standing beside her dressed in leather armor accented with splashes of dark green and gold. His inky black hair fell to his shoulders and his emerald eyes glittered; a striking contrast to his pale skin. Despite having never met him, Claire recognized the dark prince of Asgard immediately. Damn, he’s tall.

“Silence!” Odin said before Claire could speak to the newcomer. “Lady Claire, this is my son Loki,” the man beside her snorted derisively. Odin spared him a withering stare before looking back at Claire, forcing her to stop staring at Loki. “In four weeks’ time, he will be your husband and you will become a member of the royal family. When the time comes, you will be granted a golden apple from Idunn’s orchard to ensure the endurance of our treaty with Midgard.”

“Right,” Claire said quietly. “What about visits? I have friends, family. I can’t just leave them behind.”

“You may visit Midgard once per year.” Odin permitted. Claire scoffed in disbelief.

“Once a year?!” she balked. “That’s not enough time! We don’t live forever!”

“Enough!” Odin said loudly, holding up a hand to stop her. “My decision is final.”

“Fantastic,” she quipped sarcastically. She turned her gaze to Loki as Odin started speaking again. “So…how are you feeling about all of this?” she asked. Loki’s green eyes settled on her and Claire knew he was sizing her up just like she was doing to him.

She had not yet changed out of her Midgardian clothing, dressed in smart black pants, a purple under shirt and a sleek leather jacket. She wore dark spectacles pushed up into her dark hair which she wore in a loose braid. This was the woman Midgard offered to him? She did not look like a woman of standing.

“Abysmal. Odin would have me tamed, like a beast condemned to a life in chains. My surroundings may have changed but nonetheless in shackles I remain.”

“Well you did try to take over my planet.” Claire snapped.

“Do you truly wish to discuss this now?” Loki asked heatedly. “I had my reasons, mortal, not that you would understand them.”

“Try me.” Claire returned hotly, glaring up at him. A sparkle on her face caught his attention, and Loki looked closer to see she wore a purple hoop through one of her nostrils.

How odd.

“If you’re quite finished,” Odin interrupted their spat by banging Gungnir on the golden floor. The woman to his side gave Claire a small, tight-lipped smile of what she hoped was encouragement. “There is much to be done. Son of Coul, you may retire to the chambers we have provided you,” he said as a servant appeared beside Phil to lead him to his room. “Lady Claire will accompany the queen to begin preparations-”

“Is that your mother?” Claire asked Loki quietly as Odin droned on. She could practically feel his annoyance before he answered her.

“Queen Frigga.” Loki answered shortly.

“And you’re close?” Claire asked, looking up at Loki. “I hear things.” She explained when he raised a brow at her. She wore diamond studs in her ears as well. Was this typical of Midgard?

“From that oaf Thor, I’m sure. He knows me so well.” Loki said sarcastically.

“About as well as one brother can know another, I suppose. We’re friends.” Claire shrugged. She decided to ignore the feral grimace Loki made at the mention of his brother. “So what made you say yes?” she asked.

“Pleasure to meet you too, darling.” Loki laughed sardonically.

“Hey, it’s nothing personal. I think marriage is dumb and people who willingly enter it are even dumber, but I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time, I guess.”

“I wasn’t given much of a choice in the matter,” Loki said derisively. “Marriage or incarceration. I’m simply trading one cell for another.”

“Felt that.” Claire grimaced.

“What?” Loki asked, looking down at the mortal with confusion.

“Nothing,” Claire said instead of explaining. “You haven’t answered my question.” Loki rolled his eyes.

“I agree marriage is foolish and I’ve never spared it much thought, but as part of the royal family I’ve always been expected to wed. Yet despite my title and status as one of the most eligible bachelors in Asgard, no family will have me.”

“I wonder why.” Claire answered dryly, shrugging when Loki glared at her sharply. “I’m just saying, the whole killing-80-people-in-two-days thing would put off most people.”

“But not you,” Loki murmured thoughtfully. “How odd. Are there not many options for suitors on Midgard these days?” He found it rather difficult to believe an attractive woman such as her had failed to secure a match until now. She was annoying, but from what he’d seen of her walk through the city she seemed charming enough. Surely some weak Midgardian man would appreciate that. Would that he had; if only to spare Loki having to deal with her for the rest of his long life.

“I’m not most people,” Claire replied. “And that’s rude. I happen to have high standards,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Loki spied silver rings on her fingers, as well as…claws? “And most people are weirded out by my fascination with serial killers.”

“What?” Loki scoffed, tearing his gaze from the black polish on her claws. “I’m not-”

“80 people in two days,” Claire repeated. “Try again, sugar plum.”

“Don’t call me that,” Loki hissed. “Besides, it’s not as if I killed them all personally. They were simply-”

“Collateral damage?” Claire guessed. “You made a pretty big mess for someone who wanted to lose.” She raised a slim brow at him in challenge, rankling Loki further.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” he said tersely.

“You think I haven’t done any digging? I was there, but I also know several of the Avengers personally. I wasn’t about to show up to the party without doing my homework; I’m not an idiot.”

“Clearly you are since you’ve agreed to marry me,” Loki hissed. “I’ve had enough of this inane conversation. You have duties to attend to, as do I.”

“Look, aside from completely upheaving my life, I’m still seventy percent optimistic that we’ll figure this shit out.”

“Figure what out?” Loki asked impatiently.

“I know, I know, I’m just a measly little human, but we actually have a lot in common. Daddy issues, mommy issues…” Claire trailed off when Loki growled beside her. She could practically feel the anger radiating off him, but continued to push him anyway. She was curious how far she could push his buttons before he stopped with the sexy growling and attacked her. “Plus you’re really hot.”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki balked, looking back at her to see her eyeing him up and down hungrily. “Excuse me.”

“What?” Claire gave an unrepentant grin. “I said what I said.”

“Is that why you agreed to this?” Loki asked. “Because you find me desirable?”

“It didn’t hurt,” Claire smirked. “Look, I like Thor. He’s nice. But I have zero interest in fucking nice.”

“But you do have an interest in fucking me?” Loki asked conspiratorially as Frigga approached to collect Claire.

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Claire winked at him, her wicked mouth forming a devilish smile. The white of her teeth against the burnt umber of her lip paint made her appear almost predatory. “Later.”

Loki was left staring after her in awe. She was quite surprising, this mortal. She did not flinch from him, but instead challenged him head on. And she desired him. Openly.

Perhaps this venture would not be a total loss after all.

He turned to leave the throne room, only to be confronted by the steely glare of Phil. He returned the glare coolly.

“Pleasure to see you again, Son of Coul.” He said calmly.

“Save it,” Phil snapped. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you how angry I am about Claire having to marry you. But seeing as I can’t do a damn thing about it…” Phil clenched his jaw angrily. “If you hurt her, I will kill you.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Loki chuckled lightly. “Don’t fret, Son of Coul, I have no intention of laying a hand on your precious niece. Marry her I must, but Odin has made quite clear the consequence should anything happen to her.”

“Oh, I can sleep peacefully now,” Phil replied sarcastically. “But just to be clear; she is protected.”

“I am capable of reading, Son of Coul. The treaty is quite explicit that her well-being is tantamount to my freedom and my life. I would be a fool to risk that,” Loki grinned as a guard approached to escort Phil to his chambers. “I do hope you find your chambers comfortable.” he added as Phil was led away to his guest rooms.

~~~~

“I am so pleased to meet you, Lady Claire,” Queen Frigga said excitedly as she led Claire out of the throne room. “It will be grand to have another lady in our family.”

“I’m sure dealing with three boys is a challenge,” Claire said diplomatically. “I’ve seen Thor eat, I can’t imagine what he was like during his growth spurts.”

“Oh Norns, the stories I could tell,” Frigga laughed politely. “But there is plenty of time for that! For now, let us show you to your chambers and you may change for supper.” the housekeeper Claire met earlier appeared at Frigga’s side, seemingly out of thin air.

“What should I change into? I didn’t really know what to pack.”

“Not to worry, dear. I’ve had several dresses made in anticipation of your arrival,” Frigga smiled warmly. “They will of course need alterations to fit you perfectly, but there is time for that.”

“Oh. Cool,” Claire said dumbly as she followed the women down the winding halls. Claire was not a dress wearer. “Earlier, you said something about a staff?” she asked the housekeeper.

“Yes, my lady,” the woman nodded. “I have assembled a team of my best. They are waiting to meet you and are eager to serve.”

“As is customary, you shall have a guard posted at your door for protection, two ladies to assist with dressing and styling your hair, a chambermaid to tidy your rooms and a personal servant to assist you with bathing, dressing, and anything else you should require.” Frigga explained.

“Bathing?” Claire balked. “I can- I mean, I don’t want to seem ungrateful but that really isn’t necessary. I can bathe myself.”

“It is your preference of course,” the housekeeper replied as they began to climb a set of stairs. “Your staff will do anything and everything you require, you merely need ask.”

“You are fully within your right to dismiss any member of your staff should they displease you,” Frigga added. “Should you dismiss them, they will be replaced quickly and with little disruption. Your personal servant will oversee everything and handle matters such as your correspondence and setting appointments. Should you travel, they will travel with you.” Frigga said as they reached the top of the stairs.

“How often will I meet with Loki?” Claire asked. Frigga and the housekeeper led her away from the landing and down a hallway.

“Many times, dear,” Frigga said gently. “There are official functions you will attend together prior to the wedding, but I remember well how it felt to arrive in a strange land to marry a strange man. I have already made arrangements for the two of you to become acquainted in the coming weeks.”

“That’s very thoughtful, thank you,” Claire smiled. She liked Frigga already. There was a calming air about her, and Frigga seemed kind and caring. “I take it you and Odin-”

“Oh yes,” Frigga chuckled. “We were betrothed for many, many years before I made the journey here to Asgard, but we did not meet until I arrived at the altar.”

“Yikes,” Claire cringed. “That sounds like a nightmare.”

“It was terrifying,” Frigga giggled, a fond look stealing over her face as they turned a corner. “I was shaking so horribly, I thought I might collapse! But I survived, and I have a wonderful marriage to show for it.”

“That’s...great.” Claire replied, slowing as she spied a line of people standing against the wall outside of a set of double doors.

“Here we are,” Frigga said jovially. “Your staff has prepared everything for you.” In unison, the five people outside the doors moved to pay their respects. The guard bowed at the waist, his armor clinking as he moved. The women curtsied, delicately and perfectly.

“May I present your ladies: Helga, Koza, Kari, and your personal servant Ragna.” As her name was spoken, each of the women bowed their heads in respect to Claire. Claire had seen many odd things in her line of work, but she had never before met a person with pink skin.

“A pleasure to meet you all,” Claire smiled. “I’m sure we will get along wonderfully.”

“That’s the spirit,” Frigga’s hand settled on Claire’s shoulder. “Come, come, let’s get you settled. Fetch the seamstress at once.” Frigga said as the door was opened. She allowed Claire to step inside first, following shortly after.

The door opened onto a spacious and lush living room. A fireplace crackled at one end of the room, a gilded mirror hanging above it. Built in shelving flanked the fireplace, tastefully decorated with items Claire was sure cost a fortune. A large white couch took up much of the wall beside the door, but what drew Claire’s attention were the tall windows lining the opposite wall. Floor to ceiling window panes bathed the room in buttery sunlight, the delicate lace of the curtains fluttering in the gentle breeze. A dining table sat against the wall opposite the fireplace, with an open door beside it. Claire followed the door, stepping into a bedroom with a sprawling bed and a desk. A room divider stood sentry in the corner beside another crackling fireplace. The bedroom led to a bathroom with a sunken stone tub and a beautiful vanity.

“Are you pleased?” Frigga asked hopefully as Claire returned to the bedroom.

“It’s beautiful,” Claire smiled. “Thank you so much. I love it.”

“This shall be where you stay until you marry. You may decorate any way you wish. Once you are wed, you will move to Loki’s chambers in the East wing.”

“Your Majesty?” one of Claire’s new staff stepped into the doorway. “The seamstress is here.” Frigga clapped her hands excitedly, eager to introduce her new daughter to the fine dresses she’d had made for her.

“Wonderful, show her in!”

~~~~

Several hours later, after Claire had been undressed, measured, dressed, pinned, then undressed again, it was mercifully time for dinner. Claire was annoyed beyond measure (ha) at having been subjected to feminine torture. She had never enjoyed wearing dresses and now it was all she was allowed to wear. She had tried to be excited- after all, the fabrics were sumptuous- but trying on dresses had never been her idea of fun.

To make matters worse, she’d already disappointed her future mother-in-law. Frigga was obviously excited to have her and Claire wanted to share her excitement, but being told she wasn’t allowed to wear pants was crossing the line.

So now she was at a massive feast- the pink skinned woman from earlier had shown her the way (Kira? Ragna?)- attempting to drown her sorrows in fantastic wine while people stared at her from their tables. Whether they didn’t approach out of fear, respect or maybe Frigga had asked them not to bother her; Claire didn’t care what the reason, she was just grateful.

She was not, however, grateful for the person sitting to her left.

“Are you attempting to drown yourself or make this event a better one?” Loki asked from beside her. “I believe that is your fourth.”

“Ha ha,” Claire replied flatly. “Look at you; able to count to four.”

“If you find that remarkable, you would overwhelmed by my ability to count beyond one hundred.”

Claire had been subject to such stimulating conversation since dinner began. She and Phil had already spent several minutes gushing about their new digs when Loki arrived like a storm cloud. Claire knew before she arrived that it would be a while before they got a feel for each other. Right now they were like two liquids trying to reach equilibrium, and all through the courses- a tiny salad with red and purple leaves and vinegar-y dressing, a spicy squash soup, and succulent roast lamb and fish, seared vegetables and broiled potatoes- they had been trading sarcastic barbs like merchants traded coins.

“Is there a reason you’re showing off your ability to imbibe?” Loki asked. “Are you unhappy with your chambers? Your new wardrobe perhaps?”

“Nope, this wine is just really good,” Claire said as she drained her goblet for the fourth time. “I think my cup is broken.”

“I am surprised it is intact, actually,” Loki remarked coolly. “I half expected you to smash it on the ground just as Thor would.”

“I can do that?” Claire asked excitedly. “I wanna smash stuff- hey!” she protested when Phil pulled the cup from her hand.

“No smashing,” he chastised. “This is our first night here, we need to make a good impression.”

“Yes mom,” Claire sneered. “Can I have my cup back?”

“Are you going to smash it?” Phil asked.

“No, I need it to keep drinking.”

“Perhaps you should stop,” Loki advised from her left. “Otherwise you’ll have a terrible case of veisalgia.”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Claire replied, like a mature adult. “If I want to get blackout drunk, I will.”

“I am only offering advice, darling, you do not have to take it.”

“Aw thanks, sugar plum ,” Claire simpered, grinning unrepentantly when Loki glared at her. “So what is veisa- what did you call it?” she giggled. She was starting to feel the wine. Had the torches always been swirly? Oh, that lamb was sitting in her stomach like a stone. “Is that like a hangover?”

“Yes,” Loki huffed. “You are rather annoying, were you aware of that?”

“You’re annoying,” Claire scoffed. “So’s your-” a loud hiccup escaped her, to which Loki rolled his eyes. “Your face.”

“My face?” Loki balked. “What is wrong with my face?”

“Nothing,” Claire grumbled, scooting down in her seat to sulk like a child. “That’s why it’s annoying.”

Loki didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. Either way, this was shaping up to be a most amusing meal. Claire had clearly over-served herself and it was catching up to her.

“Do you always over-indulge?”

“Everybody has vices, sugar plum. Some of us drink really good wine, and some of us try to take over planets.” Claire giggled like she had told a hilarious joke, but Loki’s jaw flexed as rage boiled beneath his skin.

“You think to mock me?” he asked lowly, shifting in his seat to lean into her personal space. With her so low in her seat, he loomed over her. “You know nothing .” he snarled.

Something sparked in her blue eyes, and for a moment Loki thought he’d frightened her, but before he could feel the thrill of satisfaction, she grinned up at him.

“Talk more,” she pleaded. “You’re really sexy when you get all growly like that.” Loki made a noise of disgust before he shot to his feet, grabbing her empty goblet and smashing it on the stone floor.

“Another!” he shouted, leaving the great hall and his drunken future wife behind. She could drink herself into a stupor for all he cared.

#covenant #loki fic #loki x ofc

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arda-ancalima · 4 months

Text

A Study in Shuffling

Characters: Genshin Asogi, Yujin Mikotoba, Herlock Sholmes Words: 1,743

For TGAA Gen Week Day 1 - Dancing @tgaa-gen-week

Genshin stepped back outside and took a moment to glance up at the stars. He wasn’t exactly pleased to get called to a crime scene tonight, but such was detective work. He wandered to the gate of 3 Lauriston Gardens, waiting for Inspector Gregson to return from an errand. A man with a similar silhouette approached in the dark, but to Genshin’s surprise, the man who stepped into the street light was Yujin Mikotoba.

“Ah! Good evening, Genshin,” he said politely.

Genshin raised an eyebrow. They were on the other side of London from the hospital where Mikotoba worked, and farther still from the flat he just moved into on Baker Street. “Good evening. I should inform you that this is a crime scene, so whatever business you have here will have to wait.”

“Oh, it—it’s nothing like that,” Mikotoba said, oddly nervous. “Actually, I was wondering if perhaps…”

Genshin cut him off. “One moment.” He stalked along the fence to the shadow attempting to creep in between the rails. “Mr. Sholmes.”

Sholmes snapped up his head and hit it on a rail, wincing. “Why, Mr. Asogi! Fancy meeting you here of all places!”

“I could say the same,” Genshin said dryly. “All right, on your way.”

“Of course.” Sholmes’ grin shone in the lamp light. “Just as soon as I’ve had a look at the crime scene.”

“No,” Genshin said firmly. He saw Mikotoba hovering nearby and put up a hand. “One moment, Yujin.”

“Oh, er, you see…” Mikotoba began.

“He’s with me,” Sholmes said.

“Ha!” Genshin barked. “I’m sure.”

“Tell him, Doctor.”

“Lying will get you nowhere. Now quit bothering this man and—“

“Er, Genshin,” Mikotoba interrupted. “I am here with Mr. Sholmes.”

Genshin whipped around to stare at him. “What?” he said dumbly.

“This is my flatmate, Herlock Sholmes. Mr. Sholmes, this is my friend, Genshin Asogi.”

Sholmes extended his hand and Genshin automatically went to shake it. “Pleased to—no, I know who you are!” He snatched his hand away. “What do you mean, your flatmate?”

“I told you about that flatshare on Baker Street, right?” Mikotoba said.

Horror filled him. “You didn’t tell me he lived there!”

“I didn’t know you were acquainted.”

“This is all fascinating stuff,” Sholmes said, making it clear that he thought it was anything but. “However, we are on a rather tight schedule, so if we could just…”

“I thought I made it clear on several occasions that civilians, even amateur detectives such as yourself, are not allowed at any crime scene,” Genshin said.

Sholmes drew himself up to his full height, which was still a good few inches shorter than Genshin. “And just how is Scotland Yard coming along on this case?”

Narrowing his eyes, Genshin glared at him. They were going nowhere, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Sholmes.

“That’s what I thought,” Sholmes said, his smug look doubling Genshin’s irritation. “Anyway, I was invited by Inspector Gregson.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“Just ask the good doctor.”

Genshin raised an eyebrow at Mikotoba, who rubbed the back of his neck.

“Well…he was doing a lot of grumbling…and he did mention the address, so…could we take a quick look?”

Genshin couldn’t believe he was actually considering this. He gave an exasperated sigh. “Five minutes.”

“Splendid!” Sholmes said, climbing up over the fence and pumping Genshin’s hand. “You won’t be disappointed, my dear fellow!”

He went ahead into the house and up the stairs, while Mikotoba followed behind with Genshin.

“I’m used to Mr. Sholmes wheedling his way onto my crime scenes,” Genshin said, “But I still don’t understand why you are here.”

Mikotoba shrugged. “I’m not sure myself. But he invited me along, and I had nothing else to do.”

“I really must warn you against him,” Genshin said, lowering his voice. “Especially as a flatmate. The man is a nuisance, and possibly insane.”

“He seems a decent enough fellow,” Mikotoba said. “Eccentric perhaps, but from what I’ve seen, a brilliant man.”

“Listen, Yujin.” Genshin stopped on a landing. “You see the best in people, which is admirable, but can get you into trouble. I don’t want to see you get in over your head. You tend to get swept along in whatever someone asks of you.”

“Yes,” Mikotoba said with a faint smile. “Like how you and Seishiro bullied me into coming to Britain in the first place.” He took the last few steps ahead of Genshin.

Genshin sighed through his nose and stepped up to the door, nodding to the bobby guarding it, and went inside.

Sholmes took a quick look at the body in the middle of the room, before turning his attention to the walls. After he had scoured them, he gestured to the body. “Doctor, if you would.”

“What—me?” Mikotoba said.

“What is your professional opinion, as a medical examiner? It would be very useful to me,” Sholmes said.

“W-Well, I…I’ve only just begun studying post-mortem examinations, but…I’ll do what I can.” He crouched beside the body, carefully turning the head to get a better look at it. “He’s dead, that’s for certain…no signs of head trauma…” He picked up a hand. “No blood, no defensive wounds…erm…heart attack, perhaps?”

“Would it be a crime scene if it was a heart attack?”

“Oh, right, then…poison?”

“Excellent!” Sholmes snapped his fingers. “Now take a look at this marking on the wall and tell me what you make of it.”

Mikotoba jumped when Sholmes pointed it out. “Oh! There is blood! It looks like writing.”

“Rachel,” Genshin said dryly. It had been the most glaringly obvious clue in the room.

“Is that indeed what it says?” Sholmes turned his grin on him, and Genshin got a sinking feeling. “Scotland Yard is falling down on the job these days. This crime is completely transparent to me!”

Mikotoba gaped, and it needled Genshin to see him so impressed. “You—you’ve worked it all out?”

“All the clues are here, we need only put them together.” Sholmes pointed aloft. “It is time for Herlock Sholmes’s Logic and Reasoning Spectacular!”

Genshin groaned as the spotlight fell on Sholmes, who twirled around the room as if it were a stage and pointed to the red writing.

“Here we have a word written on the wall. What does it say?”

“That’s obvious,” Genshin said, his arms folded as he watched from the doorway. “Rachel, though he was interrupted before he could write the ‘L.’ I believe it to be the victim writing the name of his killer.”

“Rachel, is it?” Sholmes said. “Mikotoba, is there any other meaning it might have?”

“Well, this is a bit far-fetched,” Mikotoba said. “But I know a little German. It struck me that it might be ‘rache,’ the word for revenge.”

“Precisely!” Sholmes spun around again. “Don’t lose your time looking for Miss Rachel. The word is revenge, the motive for the murder, written…in tomato paste.”

“Er, Mr. Sholmes…” Mikotoba ventured. “Don’t you think that might be blood?”

“Indeed, it is blood!” Sholmes disappeared from the wall and reappeared near the body. “And just what is this revenge all about? Strange that it was written by the victim, don’t you think?”

Mikotoba said nothing, looking intently at the victim, thinking hard. Then something seemed to light up his face. “Hold it, Mr. Sholmes. That’s not it at all.”

He tapped out a few dance steps before tipping his hat stylishly. “The victim’s fingernails are perfectly clean and smooth. Since the word was scratched onto the wall with blood, it couldn’t possibly be the victim who wrote it.”

“And thus it concludes…” Sholmes spun so that he and Mikotoba could point out the solution together.

“Rache was written by the killer!”

They began work on another clue in the same manner while Genshin watched in astonishment. From time to time, Sholmes turned over the spotlight to Mikotoba, who danced as he explained his own deductions. He was light on his feet, suggesting a certain lightness of heart that had been absent in him for a long time.

Softening at the sight, Genshin almost missed Sholmes appearing behind him.

“Brilliant, isn’t he?”

Genshin chafed at the detective so close over his shoulder. “He is. You on the other hand…”

Sholmes laughed loudly and went off to twirl around the stage again.

Once their deductions were complete, Genshin, to his chagrin, had a much better understanding of the case.

“All right, your five minutes are more than up,” he growled.

“Not a problem at all, my dear fellow,” Sholmes said. “Our work here is finished. Do excuse me, I must fetch the victim’s missing suitcase in the back alley.”

He dashed down the stairs. Genshin and Mikotoba went back outside at a slower pace, waiting by the house while Sholmes conducted his search. Genshin sighed.

“Why don’t you like him?” Mikotoba asked.

“Why don’t I—why do you like him?”

“Well, it’s hard to explain, really.” Mikotoba looked out at the dark street where Sholmes had disappeared. “He fascinates me. Yes, he has some bothersome habits, but he’s the cleverest man I’ve ever met. It’s never a dull moment with him around.”

“Yes but, not being rude Yujin, you’re more of a dull man yourself.”

Mikotoba laughed, filling Genshin with warmth to hear the sound again. “Yes, well, good to keep the mind occupied, you know? I think I’ve had rather enough dreary days all to myself. You were the one telling me to get out more—”

“Not like this!”

“—And to make new friends—”

“Not like him!”

“Genshin…” Mikotoba faced him directly. “I know you’re trying to protect me. And I know you’re older and wiser and know better. But if I am making a mistake, I’m confident I can handle myself.”

If he was honest, Genshin would agree. It was possible Sholmes did have a good side to him, and if he could make Mikotoba laugh again… Well. It’s not like Genshin had much choice in what the detective made up his mind to do, and maybe if Sholmes had Mikotoba to civilize him, he would be less of a pest at his crime scenes.

“Tell me that when I bail the pair of you out of prison,” Genshin muttered.

Sholmes appeared out of the darkness holding a packing case. “Come, Doctor, the game is afoot!” he called.

Mikotoba chuckled. “I’m sure I will.” He wished him goodnight and followed along after Sholmes.

#the great ace attorney #dai gyakuten saiban #genshin asogi #yujin mikotoba #herlock sholmes #tgaa gen week #tgaa spoilers #dgs spoilers #a bit last minute but I wanted to have something for day one!#may edit more later and put it on ao3 but for now here's something :)#arda writes #*

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potatomountain · 8 months

Text

TLaM CH 7

“Steps”

mutant reader x human ateez

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: there will be potential triggers for anxiety and mental illnesses all throughout this story. Not all characters are nice at first.

AN: Sorry this took so long but here we go! i keep telling myself ill write longer chapters, but i guess its just not in it for me. Maybe when (if) i finish TLAM ill combine some chapters or perhaps when i get far enough ill do that when I move TLAM onto other platforms. Currently this is the only platform its on and only place to read it

a reminder a lot of the times i don't edit my works and that this is a slow burn, its going to take awhile for mc to meet and trust each of the eight but she’ll get there!

This is a work of fiction, in particular Fan fiction, and in no way is this a representation or an accurate depiction of ATEEZ or any other idols/people used for this work.

Any feedback is always appreciated and adored! Comment on the masterlist to be added to the taglist <3

Masterlist

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> I'm just not afraid to speak the facts 🤭 <

> So did you head inside? <

> ??? <

> you aren't ignoring me now are you? <

> hey, is everything alright? <

> did you freak out and run? You can tell me if you did. <

> come on, at least reply. <

Staring down at the multiple messages from Jongho I was a bit shocked. It had taken me longer to calm down in the unfamiliar shower than I expected, and truthfully I had taken my time to dry off and pick up my phone once more. Nearly an hour had passed since my last message, and ten minutes since his which was simply my name.

I wasn't sure if this was a show of concern, was this how people showed concern? I would send him multiple messages in my own panic, but in the last few days Jongho would usually only ever reply with one message until I had responded. Even if it had been longer than an hour.

> No I didn't run, I was using one of their showers. I apologize I should have informed you rather than stop mid conversation like that. <

Setting the phone aside I sat up from the bed and finally began my search for my clothes. "Has to be here somewhere…" I managed half the articles of clothing before there was another string of texts.

> showers? They have showers? <

> never mind that, are you still there then? <

> are you alright? <

I frowned at the last message, my chest tight. Am I alright? He wasn't one of the doctors at the lab, my wellbeing shouldn't matter. He wasn't the first person to throw me off with such questions, as even Seonghwa had asked and shown concern during the last time I had been here, and even now.

I could not fathom why either of them would, or why my chest felt a bit warm that they were.

> I am alright. It is a shelter, he allowed me to occupy a room to get my bearings together. Hot showers and steam in particular help my nerves. I haven't left the room yet. <

Part of me did not want to. Would that energetic man be down there? Would he show similar behavior as before, invading my personal space with no regard for his own safety? I did not want to harm him, yet I knew it was possible I would.

Seonghwa would show no concern then.

The thought jostled me enough that I dropped the hoodie I had just picked up. The loss of his kindness was an idea that filled me with dread and disappointment, followed by confusion. I was used to people being unkind to me, to treating me as I am: a monster. Why would I care if he does?

Because I needed this tavern? And needed it to work out for me? That seemed like a valid reason but it didn't exactly feel correct.

Before I could overthink it, the soft ding of my phone drew my attention.

> So what is the plan now? <

That was a good question. Biting my lip I weighed my options. I was calm enough that I could attempt to socialize, or at least stay for tea and something to eat but… quickly my thoughts spiraled into what if's. What if they didn't want me here now? Did they think I was strange? Were they used to Typhon's like this? Would I be able to eat?

> and don't overthink it. <

Jongho's message pulled me out of my head once again, the corners of my lips lifting. I was grateful he seemed to read me so well, up front and honest. I wasn't sure if I had shown enough gratitude for what he was doing. On impulse I sent a message, not bothering to look it over despite the anxiety that hit the second I hit send.

> if it's alright I would like to try a call later tonight or tomorrow. That is the next step, yes? <

Jongho was unusually quick to read and reply today, leaving me no time to unsend the message as the little “read” by the chat bubble popped up and further twisted the anxiety in my gut.

> Are you sure you are ready for that? <

The thing was, I wasn’t sure at all I was ready at all. I wanted nothing more than to go home and exist in those four walls alone, letting the rest of the world forget I existed. I wanted San gone and my safe space back, life was simpler like that. But… It was lonely. Talking with Jongho, even over the texts, had pulled a veil off my eyes to my situation and my true thoughts and feelings on the matter.

It was easier to be alone, yet it was painful. Being aware of that now, knowing what caused the constant cold sting in my chest, made it that much more unbearable. I didn’t want to be alone anymore, I wanted what I saw in the humans around me so often: Family, friends, laughter and joy brought out by those around them.

Love.

The realization hit like a cold shower, limbs a bit weak so I sat down. Was that perhaps what I wanted here? The idea was to have this be a safe space I could go to, as well as learn to communicate so I could co-exist with San in my home without the constant strain of nerves. Those two things were not something I could get by doing what I was comfortable with, if so I wouldn’t have stayed to calm down or even think about staying longer to attempt to socialize.

It was no longer a matter of what I was ready for, or what I could handle, but a matter of how far I had to push myself. No more did I want to waste away in a pile of blankets oblivious to the rest of the world, no matter how much I felt that was what I deserved.

> I trust you Jongho, I want to learn the next step. <

Winning this battle with myself was only one small step; stepping out of this room and confronting Seonghwa and the new human was a larger step and the true next step I needed to take. That just made it all the more overwhelming.

> Then tell me when you get home, and if you feel up to it I’ll call. If not, we can do so tomorrow, I can call in between classes. <

Right… Jongho was a college student studying music theory. When I first found out that little fact about him I was taken aback, part of me expecting him to follow his father’s footsteps; but it seemed Jongho enjoyed singing. I still didn’t know enough about him to imagine that, but I would like to someday see it.

> Alright. I’m going to leave the room now, talk to you later. <

I ended the conversation there, stood back up and pulled my hoodie back on, leaving the room before I lost the courage to do so. I was both relieved and nervous to see the empty hall, taking a second to really take in the number of rooms there were; roughly four to my left towards the front of the building, with three to my right and stairs up one more floor. Each door seemed thick, a keypad next to each. It reminded me of the rooms back at my father’s lab, although those felt more like cells. Only because I had just left one of the rooms did I know they were not the same. While the room was simple, nothing more than a bed, tv, desk, mini fridge and the bathroom; it did not feel like a cell at all, but a cozy place to make your own. The bare bones needed and yet it was more than those too bright cells could ever be. Remembering Seonghwa’s words when he had led me to the room, I debated on where to go. He had given me the option to roam and explore, but I felt as if I had enough surprises for one day. I headed downstairs for the kitchen then, the smell of something delicious filling my nose and grumbling my stomach in response. I hadn’t eaten today and it felt wrong to leave without acting like a proper patron and purchasing something; even if Seonghwa had made it clear that it wasn't a requirement. However I was surprised to find the ground floor empty and quiet, glancing around the hall to find no one around. The door to the kitchen was shut, but I couldn’t hear anyone on the other side despite the smell of meat coming through the door. I stood frozen on the last step, listening for any sign of life, using my heightened senses to the best of my ability. But it was only a slight difference, not enough to really sense anyone’s breathing or presence.

I was listening so intently the click of the door across from the stairs startled me back, tripping over the stair behind me and my butt falling onto the stairs at an awkward angle. Whimpering as pain shot up my back, I looked up to find an unfamiliar face in the doorway, our eyes locking and his seemingly nonchalant expression twisted with just a bit of shock and concern. The tumble I took on the stairs was enough to stir movement elsewhere, but it was the unfamiliar man’s deep voice that drew more attention.

“Are you alright?” He shut the door behind him and moved around the desk just as Seonghwa emerged from the kitchen with the red haired man poking his head up behind him. Before the newcomer could approach any further, Seonghwa was holding up his hand to stop him and taking a step closer but not too close.

“That’s Yeosang, he handles the security here. Did you hurt yourself?” The introduction eased some anxiety, but the fall on my rear had jostled the nerves on my back enough to make tears spring in my eyes. “Blue, where does it hurt?” I don’t know how he did it, how he knew just what to ask or say to ease my anxiety, or how he managed to read me like this but it was comforting. Quickly wiping away the blue tears, I pulled myself up a bit weakly, a hand moving to my back. “My back is… more sensitive than the rest of me so the fall hurt a bit. I was just startled, nothing else is wrong.”

Seonghwa sighed with relief, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Then if you’d like to sit down, Wooyoung made you something to eat and I have the tea ready for you. Is that alright?” My stomach’s rumble answered for me and I could feel my cheeks flush in embarrassment. Nodding, I stepped down and kept my head lowered as I made my way to the lounge and spotted the familiar table I had sat at before. It was still the best option for my back so I sat there once more, looking around and finding myself alone.

For a Typhon shelter, I couldn’t decide if it was a good thing or not that it seemed so empty each time I’ve been here. It was comforting to say the least, less people around so less new things and people to be anxious about. But also, the lack of people was somewhat eerie. For how welcoming this place seemed, there didn’t seem to be many people who wanted to be here.

Before I could over think it further Seonghwa stepped in with a tray, setting it down on the table and taking a step back for space. Not that I paid attention to anything other than the meat dish and tea pot, more primal instincts winning over my other senses.

Still not wanting to be rude however, I bowed my head a bit. “Thank you Seonghwa, it looks delicious.”

“My pleasure Blue. Would you like us to leave you alone to eat or-”

“Yes please. But um…” I looked up, spotting the two other humans watching around the wall behind Seonghwa. “I feel like I got off on the wrong foot, with all three of you now. I want to apologize for my rude behavior and the distress I’ve caused you, and thank you again for your care.” The words felt heavy on my tongue, but it lifted a weight off my shoulder, making it easy to continue through the doors they opened. “I would like to… I mean I hope you wouldn’t mind but I- Well you see…” Okay, not as easy as I would like.

Noticing my distress as usual, Seonghwa offered a reassuring smile. “We can continue this after you've eaten if you like?”

Nodding, I motioned to the two behind him. “All three of you?” Seonghwa turned in time to see Wooyoung dart away but Yeosang seemed to remain with an unreadable expression, giving a half wave.

“I am fine with that, are you Yeosang?”

The man shook his head, stepping more into the archway without entering the room and stuffing his hands in his pockets. “Truthfully I don’t think it's my place. I don’t want to scare her more than I have, not with how nervous she already is thanks to the idiot.” “True true. Then will you stay for my sake? Help me keep said idiot in check? I don’t think she would find the way I tend to handle him relaxing at all.”

“You… have a point. Very well.”

Seonghwa turned back to me as I was taking a sip of the tea, a softness to his features. “I’ll let you eat for now, just call out when you’re ready to talk.”

With a nod I watched him head out, only to call out before he completely disappeared from sight. With as much courage as I could muster, I thought of all the kindness and care he had shown, how he had done his best to ease my worries and make me comfortable every second that I have been here: both times. It warmed my chest, tingled my nerves, and I found myself genuinely smiling. “Thank you, for everything. I think I am glad to have met you at least.”

His eyes went wide as saucers, mouth agape as he floundered like a fish for words. I found the expression a bit humorous, but otherwise turned my attention to the food. I had said what I wanted to say, and my stomach demanded to be fed with no more interruptions.

The first bite was heavenly, and when I looked up to once again offer thanks, I was alone.

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

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claymorexpunisher · 2 years

Text

Fun With The Boss (18+ One Shot)

Pairing(s): Drew McIntyre/Fem. Reader

Summary: Reader finally decides to answer her boss’ proposition…

Tags: 18+, office sex, boss/secretary relationship, exhibitionism, oral sex (male receiving.)

Word Count: 1,539

Smoothing down my black pencil skirt and fixing the collar on my white work shirt before picking up the black folder on my desk, I made my way to my boss’s office, urging for my palms to stop sweating and for my heart to stop pounding.

Every step I took brought a jolt to my already sensitive body and it took everything in me not to dump every last thing on Drew’s desk and to lay myself on it, offering myself up to him completely.

I knew sleeping with the boss wasn’t exactly the smartest idea, and when he first suggested this arrangement, my immediate response was ‘Absolutely not.’

And he respected that.

Drew never wanted to force things and he made sure that I knew that if I wasn’t for it, that there’d be no hard feelings and things would stay strictly professional.

But he knew I wanted him too.

I didn’t hide it very well so, when I barged into his office one late Tuesday evening after every one in the building had already left, and I told him I changed my mind, neither of us were very surprised.

Watching him walk into his office, donning a crisp three piece suit that hugged his taut muscles and broad shoulders perfectly, it was hard to resist him.

But my most favorite look on his was always at the end of a busy work day, with his suit jacket and tie off, and the sleeves of his white dress shirt rolled up to expose strong forearms that made my knees weak..

We had fun.

Lots of it.

And I knew that whatever happened in that office between us, didn’t affect my capabilities as his secretary.

I made it a point to tell him that I didn’t care for special treatment, and that I was more than willing to pull my weight in the company just like everyone else, sexual escapades aside.

And again, Drew respected that.

Admired it, even.

Knocking on his office door, I peeked my head inside before stepping in as soon as I got the okay from him to do so.

‘’Done?’’ Drew said, his tone professional as he eyed the black folder in my hands that had the completed budget plan for the month and I nodded.

‘’Yes, Sir.’’ I said, giving him a polite smile which he returned.

‘’Good,’’ Drew replied, taking the folder and skimming the contents inside and humming in approval before setting it aside.

What he said next made my entire body stand at attention.

‘’Lock the door, please.’’ He commanded softly yet firmly.

My head tilted curiously and I knew my eyes were as wide as dinner plates, because Drew chuckled at the sight as he leaned back into his office chair.

‘’Relax. Nobody comes in here unless I say they can… we’ve both had a stressful and I think we’ve earned ourselves a little fun. Wouldn’t you agree?’’ He asked, raising a single brow as if daring me to challenge him.

‘’I- I don’t know if thats a good idea..’’ I stammered, my face flushing a deep crimson.

The thought of doing…anything, while most of my coworkers were still in the building made my entire body buzz in arousal.

But a nervousness at possibly being caught sat at the forefront of my mind and in my gut.

‘’I-it’s not that I don’t want to, I just..I don’t think I could keep quiet if we did anything...’’ I stammered on, blushing harder and no longer meeting his eyes until I heard him get up and he walked around his desk, over to me and held my chin in his hand.

I gulped hard as his icy blue eyes bored into me.

‘’If that’s the problem then… I can fix that.’’ Drew said to me with a playful smirk playing on his lips.

———

Before Drew could place the makeshift gag over my mouth, I stopped him with a light hand on his wrist.

Seeing his eyes grow alarmed, thinking he overstepped, I gave him a smirk of my own.

‘’I have an idea… you can totally use that on me later, though.’’ I told him, then I ushered him back to his office chair, kneeling between his legs once he was comfortable.

I smiled further as Drew groaned pleasurably as he realized where things were headed.

‘’This was supposed to be about you, love...’’ he murmured, holding my cheek in his large hand.

But my attention was completely focused on the almost painful-looking bulge poking through his slacks, and I bit my lip as I rubbed him through the fabric.

‘’You wanna make me happy, Drew?’’ I asked him with a soft purr in my voice.

‘’Mhm...’’ Drew nodded, his mouth hanging slightly open as my hand continued to rub before I freed him out of his pants.

I let out a giggle, stroking him firmly. ‘’This’ll make me very happy..’’

And with that, I kept my eyes on him as my mouth sank down on his cock, tasting him greedily and breathing him in, letting my eyes flutter shut as he rested his hand on the back of my head.

‘’Fuck...’’ Drew whispered under his breath as I licked along his shaft, paying attention to his balls every now and again.

Just the sound alone sent a spark of pleasure down to my pussy and my thighs clenched, feeling as if I would come right then and there.

‘’Fuck…shit… do that again,’’ He growled at me, releasing a guttural groan as I once again sank all the way down, swallowing around his length in the process.

I quickly blinked away the tears in my eyes, not wanting to miss the way his features contorted in bliss.

With every twitch of his features, every barely contained groan, and every word of praise he directed my way, I felt elated.

To know I was pleasing him as much as I clearly was, made my entire body feel like I was floating.

If we left today with just him reaching an earth shattering orgasm, I would’ve been more than fine with that.

My hands wandered over his clothed broad chest every now and again, before I brought them back down to his thighs, rubbing them up and down as my mouth worked on him.

I let out a moan around his cock as his hands tightened their grip on my hair, looking into his eyes with wicked playfulness.

‘’You’re so good at that, Kitten…so fucking good at that...’’ Drew whispered, groaning as he slowly began to fuck my mouth.

I shivered at the pet name and as his sounds got louder and louder.

Clearly neither of us really cared if we got caught by anybody.

My cheeks flushed as I got even wetter at the thought alone and as his movements picked up speed along with his breath.

Then, something happened that completely caught both of us off guard.

The second he reached his climax…so did I.

My body trembled with the magnitude of my orgasm and my jaw went slack as the overwhelming sensations wracked my body and I could hear his groans and growls through a hazy mind, as if I were going through a tunnel.

Pulling my mouth off of him after we were both spent for the moment, I wiped my mouth sloppily with the back of my mind, once again blinking away overwhelmed tears.

‘’Holy shit..’’ I breathed, huffing out a shocked laugh.

‘’Did you just…did you just come?!’’ Drew exclaimed, staring at me with wonder and even more lust in his eyes.

Up until then, I didn’t know it was possible to come completely untouched.

But seeing him lose himself like that, knowing that it was because of me, I couldn’t help but be brought to the edge right along with him.

‘’Yeah...’’ I laughed again.

“That’s never really happened before.” I shrugged, straddling his lap on the desk chair when he motioned me to do so.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen...” he murmured, bringing me in for a deep, languid kiss.

We kissed for a long while, feeling our highs slowly leaving us until he began to rock his hips, letting his cock graze against my still wet and sensitive pussy.

I couldn’t help but to eagerly match his movements, whimpering against his lips.

“Ready for more?” Drew asked in that sexy, raspy voice that made me dizzy, while smirking against my lips.

He didn’t waste any time and entered me as soon as I gave him the go ahead, keeping our torsos pressed together.

“God...! Give it to me...” I groaned as he began to fill me up, digging my nails into his chest.

I slowly let myself adjust to his size, the slickness of my pussy helping guide him immensely.

“Yeah? You love fucking your boss, uh, princess? Tell me you love it… Tell me. Let me hear you. Let them hear you. ” He ordered, bringing one of his hands up my torso to grip my throat.

I knew we were being heard.

There was no way we weren’t.

But that didn’t stop me from rushing and complying with his command, praising him endlessly through my tears of pleasure…

#drew mcintyre #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre x female reader #drew mcintyre smut #wrestling smut #wrestling fic #wwe smut #wwe fic #wwe one shot

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tamelee · 2 years

Note

Can you do your drawings more the manga style? The others are fine but anime characters shouldn’t be drawn in a realistic style because it looks weird. Your art is good but maybe you can draw actors your one style and then anime for the other. I read you were practicing for the manga. Dont worry I want to read it! The thing about realism is that you cant represent a character factually in their true cultural foundation since it doesnt exist. The character doesnt exist. How can you draw Sasuke as a Japanese person and represent him as one in real life when you dont know what he looks like? Same with Naruto. This is no hate but just advice for your future career. I see many artist making mistakes like this and this is just a warning to prevent you from making it worse. I hope you can see it as such and not make a big deal out of it. I like your analysis’s though, keep up the good work have a nice day. Peace ✨

“Can you do your drawings more the manga style?”

No matter how much you try to formulate a question like this in order to make it sound “polite”, you don’t grasp the severity of the thing you’re “asking”.

You’re asking an artist (in my case someone who’s practicing to become one professionally), to change their art-style. An art-style is something that belongs to a person. It’s something that develops and an artist can play around with it, but you (and anyone else) don’t get to decide how they should do that.

It’s impossible, even if we "wanted to".

And quite rude.

When I first started with commissions people always asked me to “draw me this like that artist does” and basically they always wanted a copy. It used to be so confusing to me, because if they wanted something that looked exactly like the other artist’s drawing.. then why ask me? Why tell me you “like my art so much”, come to me for a commission because of it, but then don’t want it the way I draw it?

It made me really insecure about the way I draw.. and it still does to be honest.

“Copying” an artist’s art style can be a good way to practice art and figure out what you like, there is no shame in that, but it isn’t part of “us”.

What do you even mean with “manga-style” anyway? You do realize that there is not one “manga-style” either right? Have you seen the ‘Naruto’ tribute drawings made by other Mangaka’s? They look very different from Kishimoto’s “manga-style”.

Hirohiko Araki:

Mitsubishi Shimabukuro:

Masanori Morita:

Toshiaki Iwashiro:

Kentaro Yabuki:

Takeshi Obata:

And these are only a few... (lmao to fan-artists getting criticized for slightly different facial proportions being part of their art-style when it's more than normal (in the Manga world), but ok.)

“The others are fine but anime characters shouldn’t be drawn in a realistic style because it looks weird.”

This statement in itself is ridiculous. Anime characters drawn (semi-)realistic-looking being “weird” regardless of how it’s drawn or by who, is your opinion. Your own personal opinion which is weird to send to someone. Meaning: your opinion is not factual. Now that, is not my opinion, that’s commonly accepted as a fact.

Kishimoto himself drew his characters more "realistic" as well.

Not just him, but there is another Mangaka who did.

“Dont worry I want to read it!”

I wasn’t.

“The thing about realism is that you cant represent a character factually in their true cultural foundation since it doesnt exist. The character doesnt exist. How can you draw Sasuke as a Japanese person and represent him as one in real life when you dont know what he looks like? Same with Naruto.”

You talk like you have zero understanding of what “art” even means in the first place.

I don’t even have to explain myself to you, but:

.. these aren’t even all..

(Please guys, I’m aware of what is happening.. and yes I get them too. I’m not going to talk about other blogs, my blog isn’t a call-out blog, but this is going against my style specifically.. so here we are.)

Adding “realism” is just an interpretation, a way to enrich the fictional fantasy of a character. It’s true that you can’t represent a character “factually in their true cultural foundation since it doesn’t exist” as you say.

Because Konoha doesn’t exist. Ninja’s (from Naruto) don’t exist.

Konoha isn’t an accurate representation of Japan and its culture either as Kishimoto is also influenced by different media from all over the world. His fantasy world in which this creation was born from exists, because it isn’t limited to one cultural region and it doesn’t have your personal boundaries. His childhood as far as we know was full with superheroes that were created from minds all over the world with super-powers that aren't tied to our realistic (cultural) representations. We can't manipulate Chakra like these characters do, now can we?

That’s why it’s fiction.

That’s why you’re right and also contradicting yourself because of it.

Why the hell would I want to take the beauty out of something that not only entertains us, but perhaps even helped us cope or forget this dumb “real life” you talk about and bring it ‘back to Earth’ when the mouths that lick the asses of those that embrace this ‘cancel culture’-mentality so-lovingly want to steer us towards all these ‘problematic’ things they call “reality”. Seemingly: you.

The beauty in art or fanart, fan work, fiction, fantasy is exactly that it does NOT have to represent anything exactly in real life, but it can be whatever the creator wants it to be. Interpretation is never the same for everyone. And frankly, you don’t have to agree with it. You can turn on your news-channels, discuss shit on Facebook or focus on something else if you want to see something that “represents your reality” and even then that’s questionable to say the least :’)

Art, this platform, entertainment, humor or this story that exists from the mind of a man that somehow, someway came up with the most beautiful.. tragic, love story of all time, discussing it, getting lost in the charm or artistry that went behind in making it- it’s supposed to be fun. A way to escape that reality, but all this backlash and criticism towards not just fan-artists, but also fan fiction authors who do nothing, but share their works for free does not make it very attractive to do so. One day this fandom will die down, because of this, yet it doesn’t have to.

People will always do what they love to do.

Let them.

(Morally)

“This is no hate but just advice for your future career. I see many artist making mistakes like this and this is just a warning to prevent you from making it worse.“

No, artists following your advice is the mistake. Uno reverse warning.

Have fun on your journey drawing, writing or anything that you love to do. You’re the only one having access to your mind. In art specifically, there is not one art-style, it’s something you develop overtime through drawing the things you love drawing. Every time you’ll think to yourself “hey, I liked that, I want to incorporate that the next time I draw too!” It’ll build from there.

“I hope you can see it as such and not make a big deal out of it.”

I hope you see the hypocrisy in this sentence.

Have a nice day too. I left you a drawing. (It’s the latest one.)

#asktamelee #art talk #fandom rant #Naruto fandom #naruto rant

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im-a-wonderling · 10 months

Text

White Moves First, Part 3 ~ Edmund Pevensie

Massive thanks to @writing-on-the-wahl for all her help. I hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: Despite the distance between their two lands, Y/N, princess of Archenland, is close friends with King Edmund the Just. But when push comes to shove, will friendship turn to more?

Warnings: Rabadash continuing to be sleazy and a horrible understanding of how chess works lol

Word count: 4.8k

White Moves First Masterlist

Typically, the morning after a ball, most of the court to stayed in bed until noon, including most of the advisors on my father’s council, which meant when I awoke, there would be no council meeting to listen in on for hours.

My curated beauty had done its part last night, so when I awoke, I dressed in my simplest dress: a green gown with dark laces on the front instead of on the back, which allowed me to put it on with no assistance. With no council meeting to eavesdrop on until later, I stole some breakfast from the kitchens and made my way to the gardens with scissors and a basket. In summertime, I loved to pick a bouquet for my rooms, and if I was going to be occupying myself for the morning, this was the best way to do it.

The herbs and vegetables used by the kitchens were grown behind the castle, in the space between the castle and the wall surrounding Anvard, so the castle gardens were purely for enjoyment.

Blooms of every kind blossomed, some hidden by the tall hedges, others raised so they could be seen from anywhere. From what others told me, my mother’s favorite pastime was to walk amongst the flowers of every shape and color. Apparently nothing had been planted here without my mother’s approval, and since she passed, my father liked to keep everything exactly the way she’d liked it.

A ring of large trees had been planted around the garden, offering me enough of a shield to keep me from being spotted, but I still ventured deep into the garden. After being watched by the entire court last night, I craved the privacy to think and feel anything I wanted.

Breathing in the fresh smells surrounding me, I stopped in front of a bush of white roses, reaching out to brush a rose that hadn’t quite bloomed yet with my finger.

“Y/N!”

I glanced up to see Edmund walking towards me, the new sun behind him highlighting bits of his brown hair and making it seem like he wore a shining crown. As he drew nearer, I noticed his clothing was not that befitting his station, but a plain green tunic with brown trousers. In contrast to his relaxed attire was the sword strapped to his waist.

Why was he here? Had he been on his way to spar and then noticed me? That can’t be right, I thought to myself. If he’d been simply walking past the garden on the way to the barracks, he wouldn’t have seen me.

“Good morning!” I called brightly, using my scissors to clip the young rose and setting it into my basket.

Edmund merely nodded, coming to a stop in front of me.

“Were you trying to match me?” I asked with a sly smile, motioning to his outfit and then mine.

He didn’t reply. He merely stood there, studying my face with something unidentifiable in his eyes.

“Did you sleep well?”

He hesitated and then nodded again. “Did you?”

I snipped another rose. “As well as I could after spending an evening with Prince Rabadash.” Out of the corner of my eye, Edmund tensed, his grip on his sword tightening. “Only time will tell if my father got the clarity he wanted.”

Edmund rolled his shoulders a couple times, as if the muscles were sore. “There’s going to be another council meeting after lunch. We can meet in the drawing room after, and I’ll tell you about it.”

“I would like that.”

Silence fell between us as heavy as a baby elephant and not half as adorable. The dark-haired king’s gaze fell to his feet, as if he were checking to make sure he wasn’t too close to the edge of a cliff.

“What’s wrong?”

Edmund jerked his head up. “Wrong? Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

I shot him a rare, reproachful look. “Don’t pretend. Not with me.” Edmund sucked his lips into his mouth, looking more upset than he had before. “What’s going–”

“You danced with Rabadash nine times last night.”

I could do nothing but blink. Was there some significance about nine dances? And why had he counted in the first place? “And?”

“And you danced with me once.”

Oh.

“Edmund, you can’t read into–”

“You said that you didn’t like him. That he was an…” Edmund’s cheeks colored, and I nearly laughed at his inability to repeat what I’d called Prince Rabadash. “Yet you danced with him.” He shuffled his feet, not meeting my eyes.

Was he upset? Did he somehow think that I preferred that worm to him?

The very idea was laughable.

And yet the sadness on Edmund’s face was so deeply etched, I could feel it emitting from him like a harsh wind.

I dropped the scissors, brushing off my hands. “My father asked me to.”

Edmund’s eyes shot to my face, eyebrows drawn together. “He asked you to dance with Rabadash?”

“He asked me to…” I sighed, folding my arms across my chest to combat the creeping feeling slinking across my skin. “To stay close to him, I guess?”

Edmund’s frown was leagues darker than I’d ever seen. “How close?”

“Close enough to convince him not to attack Archenland.” I bent down to retrieve my scissors. “Unfortunately, I think he was focusing more on me than Archenland.”

“Did he make you uncomfortable?” Edmund asked with great alarm.

I ran my finger across the edge of the scissors, stalling as I neared the rosebush. “He didn’t do anything improper.”

I prepared to cut another rose, but suddenly a shadow fell on me. I glanced up to see Edmund standing close enough to block out the sun. “That’s not what I asked.”

My voice failed me.

I didn’t get much satisfaction out of lying to people in general, but this was Edmund. Beyond being a man of great integrity who genuinely cared about my wellbeing, he was my best friend. Out of everyone I knew, he would most understand the deep-seated unease I felt around the Calormen prince.

But as I met Edmund’s gaze, I knew I didn’t have to say a word. An understanding passed between us, quicker than lightning. Edmund stepped back, once again creating a respectful amount of space between us. “After last night, he should have no reason to get close to you ever again.”

That we know of.

I almost voiced the thought, but shook it off. It was a beautiful morning, and I was in a beautiful place with one of my favorite people. Negativity had no place here. “The roses will bloom any day now,” I said, cutting another rose and dropping it into my basket.

“They are…very nice.”

I shot Edmund a look. “Very nice? Is that the extent of your complimentary vocabulary?”

He chuckled, holding up his hands. “I’m afraid unless the roses are armed and trying to duel, I have nothing much to say.”

“Is that what you’re going to say to your wife on your wedding day? That she looks very nice?”

“Well, only if she asks.”

I laughed, much too loudly for a proper lady, but Edmund looked pleased. Picking up my basket, I shaded my eyes from the sun. “Perhaps then we should take a turn about the other parts of the garden. Maybe you’ll get lucky and the marigolds will launch an attack.”

Edmund guffawed. “Well then, milady, will you allow me to escort you?” He offered me his arm, his eyes twinkling. “For protection, of course.”

“If you insist.” I loftily looped my arm with his, causing both of us to chuckle before walking down the garden path. As we ambled along, my gratitude for the man beside me grew and grew. Of course I was thankful he’d let the topic of conversation switch to something other than Rabadash, but it was more than that.

It bothered Edmund to see me with the Calormen prince, and I was glad of it. Yet even that didn’t stand in the way of the camaraderie we shared. He made me feel at ease, simply by being himself.

I paused to cut some carnations. “Was Lucy terribly disappointed about not coming to Anvard?”

Edmund laughed, glancing down at his feet. “Oh, practically inconsolable until I promised that you’d come to Narnia for a visit.”

Tendrils of longing curled in my chest, making it hard to breathe for a few moments. Oh, to visit Narnia would be a dream. Hopefully that dream was closer to fruition than many of my other dreams. “And how’s your brother doing?” I managed to ask around the self-pity.

“Oh, same as he always is.” Edmund leaned against a nearby cherry tree in full bloom. “Making great, kingly proclamations and pretending he doesn’t know half of the women in this world are in love with him.”

I snorted as I moved on to clip a few stems of lavender. “He’s a blond, what do you expect?” I lifted a sprig to my nose, breathing in the calming scent.

Edmund chuckled. “I suppose that’s fair.”

I held out a sprig. “Do you like lavender?”

His eyes settled the plant. “It’s purple.”

“Yes.”

“Am I supposed to like or dislike the color purple?”

I rolled my eyes. “I mean, do you like the smell?”

He tilted his head, looking confused.

“Honestly Edmund,” I said with a sigh, bounding up to him. “You can be so uncivilized.”

He opened his mouth, looking mightily offended, but I held out the lavender right beneath his nose. He closed his eyes and mouth before breathing in the calming smell, his chest rising considerably. Then his exhale sent air skimming across my fingers. Edmund’s eyes fluttered open. “It smells wonderful,” he said softly.

The wind picked up, blowing my hair into my face and filling the air with pink petals drifting this way and that.

Before I could react, Edmund lifted his hand to my hair, tucking it behind my ear. It was quick, easy action, like his hand had acted without permission from his mind. “You have flowers in your hair,” he murmured as his fingers drifted from my ear to the top of my head, gently picking them out.

I stood rock still, gazing up at Edmund’s intent face. It was the same face he made while studying the chessboard halfway through a game as he tried to puzzle out all the potential interactions between the pieces.

I liked that face.

I liked his face.

His fingers were still at work in my hair, but his eyes darted down for a moment.

Something he saw there must’ve caught his attention, for his fingers paused in their work. His sharp eyes, trained on my face, held no delight, and his lips held no smile, and yet...

Yet.

I felt a shift, like the ground underneath my feet was giving way. The longer he stood still within arms reach, looking down at me, the more my heart started to race.

Why is he looking for so long? my head asked with great apprehension.

Why has he never looked for this long before? my heart whispered back.

“Princess.”

Edmund and I leapt apart to see Prince Rabadash, casually leaning against a tree.

“Prince Rabadash,” I said, quickly walking over to my basket, dropping the lavender into it. “I hope you slept well.”

When I didn’t get a response, I straightened to see the two men staring at each other. Edmund’s nostrils were flared, but Rabadash was smiling.

“I slept marvelously,” the prince said, his attention shifting to me. “You know, being so worn out from so much dancing last night.”

Edmund shifted.

I managed a smile. “My father will be pleased to hear that.”

“Did you enjoy last night as much as I did?” Rabadash asked, an easygoing smile upon his face.

My cringe nearly broke through my carefully crafted expression, so it took me a few moments to work out a response. “Last night was certainly noteworthy.”

Rabadash didn’t respond with anything other than a smile, but that smile spoke volumes. The excessive pride radiated from him like the stench from the stables. Whatever game he was playing, he certainly thought he was winning.

“Have you had breakfast yet, Your Highness?” I asked, hoping that he hadn’t and that he’d go find some.

“I was actually hoping we could eat together.”

Edmund stepped forward. “I’m sorry, but the princess has work to do in these gardens. You’ll have to go find some breakfast on your own.”

“Oh, that’s unfortunate.” Rabadash clasped his hands together. “I shall have to go find your father instead.” He gave a little bow and turned back towards the castle.

Edmund and I watched him go.

“Ass,” Edmund muttered under his breath once Rabadash was out of sight, and I chuckled.

“Am I rubbing off on you, Your Majesty?” When Edmund didn’t respond to the quip, I sidled up to him. “Hey.” I waited until Edmund looked at me. “Soon enough, he’ll be back in his own country, and we can deal with him from afar.”

“Can’t come soon enough.” He sighed. “I’d better go get changed before the council meeting later.”

“Ahh, yes, you have important things to do,” I said with a smile, ignoring the pang of wishing I could be involved in those important things too. “Well, thanks for protecting me from the marigolds.”

Edmund didn’t laugh. “Believe me,” he assured, “I would much rather spend the day protecting you from marigolds than going to meetings.” Before I could comment, he brought my hand to his lips, kissing it lightly. With a wink, he walked in the opposite direction as Rabadash.

Suddenly the pleasant morning temperature felt a bit hot.

After clipping a few more flowers of various colors, I left the gardens and entered the castle, heading for the kitchens to get a vase and water for my bouquet.

I crossed the main hall, about to break off for the servant staircase when I caught sight of my father and Rabadash at the end of the hall. Quickly, I ducked behind a column, peeking around the corner at them. Being too far away to hear them, I could only see their facial expressions.

Rabadash looked as slimy as he always did, but my father rubbed the side of his neck, looking thoughtful.

My stomach dropped.

If my father was considering whatever Rabadash was saying…that meant there was something to consider.

Nearly forgetting my basket, I scurried in the other direction, headed straight for the councilroom. Whatever the two of them were discussing, my father would bring it up with the council as soon as he could, which meant I needed to get into place before they arrived.

Once I turned the corner, I hiked up my skirts and ran as fast as my legs would take me, ducking underneath the tapestry with no hesitation.

When the tapestry settled into place, I stood there, clenching the handle of my basket, breathing heavy while my mind raced.

Surely Prince Rabadash wouldn’t be so foolish as to declare war while he was still a guest at the castle? That would make it all too easy for him to be subdued or captured before going home. But would he lower his pride enough to ask for peace?

Never.

So what else could he possibly be asking for?

A loud bang sounded, making me drop my basket as a wave of raised voices reached my ears. I quickly bent to collect the flowers that had scattered through the alcove.

“Father, are you out of your mind?!” The voice belonged to one of my brothers, most likely Corin, since Cor never raised his voice. “What are you–”

“Silence!” my father thundered. “I will not have you question me.”

“But—”

“We have found a way towards peace! Someday, you will understand that peace is what matters most.”

The room went quiet.

“Your Majesty,” I heard an advisor ask, “what do you speak of?”

Someone let out a large sigh as my father answered. “Rabadash has approached me.”

I stopped breathing, waiting for him to continue as tension coiled in my chest like a snake trying to squeeze the life out of my lungs.

“What’s going on in here?” Edmund’s voice asked from a little farther away, and hearing it made me suck in a breath. Even though I couldn’t see him and he had no idea I was here, knowing he was there made the knot in my chest loosen slightly.

“King Edmund, Queen Susan, you got my message.” My father’s voice had considerably lowered, sounding far more respectful. “Please come in.”

There was some shuffling, and, judging by the scraping sounds, someone moved a chair.

“King Loon,” said Susan, “you’re making me nervous.”

Someone cleared their throat. “The prince was very taken by my daughter last night, as we all saw from how many times they danced together.” I strained my ears, wishing my father would talk faster. “Rabadash has approached me and offered to settle things in the old way.”

No.

My body revolted as I sank to the floor of the alcove, bracing a hand on the rock wall.

Anything but that.

“You mean–” Edmund started.

Someone slammed something down on the table, and my heart raced as I wished I could see through the tapestry to see who did it and why. “He means to marry off our sister to that arseworm!” Corin shouted.

“Boy, do not shout at me,” my father warned.

“Father–” said Corin, but he didn’t continue, clearly cut off by some nonverbal cue.

“I will draw up the terms of peace, and as soon as it is done, Prince Rabadash will sign and leave for Tashbaan.”

“With the princess?” a voice I didn’t recognize asked.

“With the princess,” my father confirmed. “They will wed back in Tashbaan.”

Silence fell in the room.

Then, it exploded, everyone talking over each other with such different volumes and emotions, I couldn’t pick any of it apart from the voices screaming in my own head.

Narnia and Archenland had battled Rabadash together in order to keep Susan away from Prince Rabadash’s clutches—and now my father was handing me to him on a silver platter?

Yes, Susan was a queen, and I was merely a princess, but I knew with certainty that if I were part of the Narnian royal family, many would be prepared to die before handing me to the Calormen prince like cattle.

“King Edmund,” my father asked, causing the room to go silent and bringing me out of my thoughts, “what is your counsel?”

I could picture my brothers, Queen Susan, the advisors, everyone turning to look at Edmund. Edmund conducted himself with such authority in the last meeting, it was hardly a surprise that my father wanted to hear from him. I waited with bated breath, wondering what my friend would possibly say in response to this.

But the room remained quiet.

“Edmund?” Queen Susan said. “Is everything alright?”

“Has Y/N agreed to this?” Edmund asked evenly.

Silence fell again.

“I see,” Edmund said. “How long ago did you discuss this with Prince Rabadash?”

“Not twenty minutes ago,” one of my brothers cut in.

“King Loon,” Edmund began, “Prince Rabadash is crafty. It is entirely possible that he has other motives for asking for the princess’s hand. For instance, he might be looking for a hostage by saying he’ll marry the princess once they arrive in Calormen.”

“So perhaps we should negotiate for the wedding to happen here, in Archenland,” my father mused. My heart leapt to hear my father taking advice from Edmund. My knight in black, acting in defense, just like always. Surely the Just King of all people would be able to convince my father away from this plan.

“This marriage could be Rabadash’s attempt for us to let our guard down, making it easier to get to my sister.”

I shut my eyes.

Of course.

It was foolish and sentimental of me to think that I was Edmund’s concern instead of his own flesh and blood.

“Narnia has spies in Calormen court,” Edmund continued. “Give us the chance to reach out to them and see if the prince has discussed the marriage with the Tisroc. That will help us gauge how serious Rabadash is about this marriage.”

No one spoke for a few moments.

“Very well,” my father said. “I will ask Rabadash for more time.” A few murmurs reached my ear. “But,” my father said sharply, “if he has discussed it with the Tisroc and is willing for them to be wed here, I am going to give him my daughter.”

Somewhere in the distant recesses of my mind, a gavel banged as my future went up in smoke.

I swallowed hard.

To hear my father talk of this without remorse or doubt…

I was my father’s only daughter, and yet he was willing to sell me for peace. Only Corin had spoken out against it, and he hadn’t even asked our father to inform me about the decision.

Still reeling, it took a long moment for me to realize that the room was completely silent. I slipped out from behind the tapestry. I stumbled through the halls like a woman in a dream, my thoughts whirling around like a spinning top. I barely realized where I was headed until my fist was banging on the door of the fanciest guest suite in the castle.

Prince Rabadash opened the door, and I didn’t even wait for an invitation before storming in. “Why do you want to marry me?” I demanded. There was no point in obeying my father’s request to be honey now, for apparently his intention was never for me to be kind for posterity’s sake.

“Hello to you as well,” Prince Rabadash said, turning to look at me and leaning his head against the still-open door.

“Please answer my question.”

Prince Rabadash smiled, shutting the door. “Why wouldn’t I want to marry you? You’re a princess, a very beautiful one I might add, and we had lovely conversations last night and this morning.”

“Don’t waste our time with insincere praise.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I’m asking you to tell me the truth.”

“I am not lying to you. You’re, by far, the most beautiful princess I’ve come across, and last night, I got to see the grace with which you handle yourself, even beyond the dance floor.” He licked his lips.

Despite the disgusting action, I knew he meant what he said. Still... “I don’t believe that’s the only reason why.”

“Isn’t it?” Prince Rabadash folded his arms, looking to all the world as if he enjoyed this. As if it were some kind of game.

Well, two could play. “Queen Susan is just as beautiful and graceful as I.”

A scowl broke through the prince’s easy-going expression. I felt a thrill of satisfaction. For even if he quickly smoothed over his expression, I’d struck a nerve.

My bishop takes his pawn.

“I believe you sell yourself short,” Rabadash said breezily.

“There’s a reason you’ve chosen me instead of continuing to fight for her.” I straightened my posture. “What is it?”

“I thought you wanted peace?” he said, coming forward.

I stood my ground, meeting his gaze without a care for what was proper. “I do. But if you truly wanted war, I don’t believe you’re the type to be swayed by a pretty face.”

“Not even a face as pretty as yours?” The prince gently caressed my jaw.

I smacked his hand away, anger rising. “If you’ve been paying half as much attention as you pretend, you would know your compliments mean nothing to me!”

Prince Rabadash inhaled deeply, as if there was some pleasant smell in the room. “There you are. You’ve finally come out from behind all this etiquette, all this courtesy.” He grinned, lifting a hand to run his finger over the delicate knot of my laces just above my waist. “It’s outrageously attractive.”

His knight takes my bishop.

It took all my strength not to stagger away from him, to stand my ground. “Why do you want to marry me?”

To my relief, the prince took a step back, dropping his hand. “Maybe I just want a guarantee that my country won’t be attacked.”

“Us? Attack you?” I folded my arms. “You’re the one who nearly took over my country!”

“And it makes perfect sense that there would be a retaliation.”

“You won’t get one from Archenland.” The words left my mouth before I realized that I had no authority to make that promise. But as desperate as I was, I didn’t care.

Rabadash lifted an eyebrow, leaning closer. “You’re willing to make that promise on Archenland’s behalf?”

I didn’t flinch. “Yes.”

My pawn takes his knight.

“Then what about the kings and queens of Narnia?”

I blinked. Why would he ask me such a thing? “That is yours to sort out with them as you will,” I said shortly. “I can’t speak for them.”

“Ahh, but there is only one reason they would promise me anything.”

What was he getting at? I silently wracked my brain for any possible explanation as I suspiciously regarded him.

That was a mistake.

Prince Rabadash nearly preened at the attention. “Oh, darling, don’t you understand?” he finally asked.

I nearly got distracted by my disgust at the pet name. “What don’t I understand?”

The prince moved forward, dipping his head close to my head so his lips were positioned right beside my ear. “You are my reason.”

I careened away from him, angry both at his proximity and at his evasive and confusing comments. “That makes no sense!”

“It makes sense to anyone who's seen the way the Narnian king interacts with you,” the prince replied, without moving from his spot.

His queen takes my pawn.

“Edmund?” I laughed, but the sound was too hysterical to sound genuine.

My queen moves behind my knight.

“He’d never do anything to put you in harm’s way, even if it meant peace with Calormen.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Judging by the way he looks at you?” The prince cocked his head. “He would never do anything that could potentially put your life at risk.”

He could’ve hit me round the head, and I still would’ve been less confused. King Loon was willing to put my life at risk for peace. Why on earth would Rabadash think Edmund cared any more than my own father? “You’re staking the fate of countries on the way the king looks at me?” I spluttered.

“A look is all it takes to know when a man is in love.”

In love?

Edmund?

With me?

All I could do was blink at the prince, who looked pleased with himself for the bomb he’d dropped.

“I guessed as much last night, but it was clear as a bell this morning.”

His rook takes my queen. Check.

I opened my mouth.

“Don’t waste your breath denying it,” he said. “King Edmund wants you.” Heat crept up my neck as I tried not to think about Prince Rabadash’s implications. From the sly curve of his mouth, he knew the crudeness of what he was implying and enjoyed it. He sauntered forward. “The Narnian king cares for you. If you were in Calormen, he wouldn’t dream of attacking it. So the best way for me to protect my country is to make you one of my wives.”

My eyes widened. Wives? Plural?

“They will know that Calormen isn’t to be trifled with.” He lifted a hand to touch my face, and I was too focused on not passing out to shy away. “And you’ll be a beautiful addition to my harem.”

The world slammed into focus so violently, I jerked away from him. “I will never marry you,” I spat. “You are a hateful and revolting man.” I flounced towards the door, but Rabadash’s hand shot out and wrapped around my upper arm, pulling me back to him.

“You’ll have to find a way to get over your scruples,” he said, his grip tightening. “Because you’d better believe, if I don’t return to Tashbaan with you beside me, there will be no peace.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” I growled back.

My bishop shifts, checking his king.

Wrong move.

His hold grew painful, enough that I cried out, as he brought his face right to mine. “You don’t.”

And with that brutal truth, my hopes died.

When he let go, all that was left for me to do was run.

Checkmate.

Part 4

White Moves First tag list:

@thelifeofsecretpenguins

Overall tag list:

@thelastpyle @valiantlytransparentwhispers

#narnia #chronicles of narnia #edmund #edmund fanfic #edmund fanfiction #king edmund #king edmund the just #jealous #jealousy #arranged marriage #narnia fanfic #narnia fanfiction #friends to lovers #chess

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invincible-selfxmade-punk · 6 months

Text

I have stopped screaming and crying and now I am just numb. I guess that is a bit of a breakthrough because normally I don't scream and cry at all until much later.

I think it's the autism I have always had a severely delayed reaction to things but this time it was so bad it just took me over.

I opened up Facebook to find that yet another friend of mine took his own life.

I am almost to the point that either I am losing count of the friends and relatives who have died by Suicide or I am just breaking down and blocking them all out.

That was my friend Ben. By the time I met him he was already in a relationship and so was I but we hung out a lot. We would send each other songs that we liked and I was really attracted to him. That is not a very good picture he was so much more handsome on his better days.

It's like meeting the man of my dreams and then meeting his beautiful wife

The girl on my other side is his girlfriend Laura and they were together for years. Then I'm not sure what happened but suddenly they were not posting together on Facebook anymore and Ben was posting more and more rather scary sounding statuses.

He had told me that he had tried to kill himself several times. And I guess we bonded over that.

That was when we worked together. We were all friends his girlfriend, myself, and the music and art teacher who were married. One time they even made a band together and played gigs around town. It was because of them I found out about this awesome band called Murder Monroe. Those were truly the best times. Before covid happened and before the venue which was a coffee shop and music venue didn't survive the covid shutdown and went out of business.

Later on after he & Laura moved away he would put cryptic status on Facebook and I would message him and ask him if he wanted to talk and send him my favorite songs to try to comfort him.

He would always send me the same song back when he was in that mood. And it was kind of a song about how maybe if we had met in a different time things would be different.

youtube

Other times he would send me awesome videos of him playing guitar.

youtube

I drew this picture 5 years ago when I got a call telling me that one of my former students ---whom I was very close to --killed herself at the age of 13.

I still think it sums up exactly how I feel every time this happens.

I am so heartsick and just at a loss. We had not communicated since Christmas and he had only posted on Facebook of very few times with anything personal. The few times he did post it would be him saying how depressed he was and how he had no friends. And I would always message him and let him know he wasn't alone and ask if I could help and after a while he just didn't respond.

I'm glad he is no longer in pain but oh my God I just wish he could have hung in there.

I can't imagine what his ex-girlfriend is going through having been with him for nearly 10 years. She said in

her post that a few weeks ago he blocked her and then of course we find this out today.

youtube

Ben Benavides was a special ed teacher, a 4th/5th grade teacher. He was an introvert who was clinically depressed. He was a guitarist, he was a music fan, he was a great listener, he gave the best hugs, he felt things far more deeply than anyone else did.

He gave his all to his students to the point that he would nearly have nervous breakdowns over the stress of not being able to help them enough. He was a goth, he was a metalhead.

I didn't know him as long as most and yet he touched my life profoundly.

My dear Ben,

I am better for having known you and I am so pissed off that you left me and left this world.

Goodbye Ruby Tuesday who could hang a name on you when you change with every new day still I'm going to miss you.

#988lifeline #need help call 988 #tribute #another life gone #grief #loss #teaching #Youtube #Spotify

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adventuresinobx · 2 years

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You’re Mine

Chase Stokes x fem!reader

Summary: And another part in the kink series! Chase isn’t as dominating in bed as you’d like - except when he’s angry.

A/N: As always - the whole point of this series for me was to push myself out of my usual comfort zone with my writing, so again this is a little bit different than what I usually write, but hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, choking kink, (tiny) breeding kink right at the end lol

You had got one thing wrong about Chase before you met him. You had assumed he was a super dominating kind of guy; always wanting to be in control and liking it rough and hard. He loved every second of the rough sex but on the most part, he preferred to be soft and gentle and loving with you. It was quiet morning kisses and gentle cuddles on the sofa whilst watching a movie. It was sleepy forehead kisses as he snuggled you and back rubs when it was your time of the month and you were in your usual monthly pain. He was a good boyfriend.

He had decided not to go out and drink for the month, which was very unlike him, but whilst you loved that he was home and spending more time with you, you missed that sexy dominant side to you that would have you dropping your panties at the front door as he rushed you up to bed from a night out, swapping the beers with his mates for a night in the bedroom with you.

But with that lacking, and no sign of him going out for a drink any time soon, you settled on finding another way to get what you wanted and that was making him angry. And as his girlfriend, you knew exactly what pissed him off - jealousy - and you were great at playing this part.

“You know who’s looking really good recently,” you said, turning over to face him in bed. He was reading a book, his reading glasses he wore with his lenses perched on his nose as he read the words in front of him. Some book that Drew had recommend to read.

“Who babe?” Chase said, expecting a famous actor’s name like Johnny Depp or Chris Evans to fall from your lips. But no. Your response shocked him.

“You know Rudy is fine. Has he been working out?”

“Has he what?” Chase replied, instantly putting his book down and giving a glaring look at you. “Has he been working out? How would I have noticed?!”

You knew exactly it was true. Chase had been at the gym with Rudy a lot of the time recently so you knew he had been working on his body and he looked so good for it. You were, of course, lying - but Chase was starting to get very riled up about it all.

“I’ve been working out too,” he muttered, taking his glasses off as he stared you down, grabbing your hand in his and making you feel his abs under his shirt, “Look see I’ve been busy in the gym too.”

“Yeah but it’s just - you’re great babe - but Rudy is just so STRONG. And the way his muscles look when he wears that vest top, well that’s very sexy.”

“What -“ Chase began, as you shrugged at him, seeming so nonchalant about what you were saying.

“I mean, have you seen him - the way his arms tense when he’s lifting those weights in the gym with you. I see him in the back of the videos,” you continued - until Chase promptly shut you up, by pulling you on top of him on the sofa and kissing you hard.

Between kisses, he pulled away to tell you four simple words: “You’re mine, not his.”

He tugged at your clothes, pushing his shirt that you were wearing over your head, desperate to see your naked body. He loved that you didn’t wear bras when you were chilling - it sped things up. He pulled your leggings down, lifting you up off his lap for a second so he could rid you of your clothes. His hand trailed over your body, his hands scanning over your skin, as he felt everywhere on your body. His favourite places first - your hips, your thighs, your tummy and your breasts, rolling each nipple between his fingers before he flicked his tongue over the other one, switching between both sides as you threw your head back in pleasure.

God, this was good. You’d forgotten about this sensation, of him being desperate for you. Needy and horny. You reached down to palm him through his shorts and he groaned at the feeling, before he gained his composure and snapped his arm away with yours so you couldn’t touch him anymore.

“Not tonight sweetheart,” he said, the tone of his voice showing his anger and jealousy - if his actions weren’t doing that too. “Tonight I’m in charge.”

You gulped at his words, unable to speak. But you were so ready for this. And you were so glad you were getting what you wanted from him. Finally. Without even a second for a thought, he had you laid out on the bed, his hands exploring all over your body. He was kissing you, his kisses rough and needy. You were so turned on; you couldn’t even cope with how good all this was making you feel. You needed him so badly.

You went to move your hand down to touch him, for anything, some relief, but he quickly stopped you. “Don’t be a brat, Y/N,” he said, the anger evident in his voice, before he softened for just a second. “I want to make you feel good. I want to fuck you good and I want you to know that Rudy would never fuck you as well as I could.”

“Hmm don’t know, Rudy seems pretty -“ you started to say, but your words were cut off by the sudden feeling of Chase’s fingers on your aching core. You’d been needing him to touch you like this for so long, so roughly and without much thought or care, so you were already absolutely soaking wet for him. And didn’t he know it.

“That pretty pussy is so wet for me,” he moaned, his fingers moving up and down your slit as he re-angled his hand so he could use his thumb on your clit. He didn’t wait, take it slow - he just rubbed your clit hard and with a strong amount of pressure that had you screaming and moaning for him within seconds, “Who’s made you so wet? Who turned you on?” His voice was harsh.

“You,” you managed to whine out, his hands on your core making sure you could barely get the words out. But he still challenged you, him still very angry.

“Who made you this wet?”

“You, Chase,” you said, the wetness almost pooling around his fingers, his angry state turning you on. Your eyes were closed tightly and suddenly his fingers had moved and now you were craving more contact from him. You didn’t have to wait long, as soon he readjusted and there he was, his cock out his boxers and the tip being run up and down your slit.

“Fuck me please,” you begged, falling apart at the feeling already. And you didn’t need to ask twice. He slid into you, a little slower at first, before he bottomed out and you nearly screamed at the feeling. You had one more game to play. “Fuck me Rudy.”

A rage took over him, and god did you feel it as he grabbed your throat and squeezed hard. Your breath was instantly taken from you and you felt his fingertips against your neck, pushing against you, leaving you unable to speak let alone do anything else. You managed a few whines and groans, his hand tight around your throat as he mercilessly fucked you, his hand keeping that tight grip and never faltering as he pounded into you with so much force that you thought he might break you in two. This was so fucking worth it.

“What did you fucking say?” he growled, his hand tight around your throat as he pushed into you. Hard. He thrusted up, the angle having you seeing stars - or was that the tightness of his grip around your throat. You decided that was enough anger so you kept your mouth shut, only letting moans and the words “feels so good” or “faster” fall from your lips as he fucked you at a relentless pace again and again. You could barely breathe and you grabbed his arm with your hand to beg him to slow down. It was a lot and you needed the breather. He let go of your neck, his hand brushing your face delicately in a complete change of mood, before his hands dropped to your hips as he kept up with his thrusting, that steady and deep rhythm you loved best.

“I’m close,” you murmured. But suddenly a panic washed over you. In the heat of the moment, you’d both forgot to put a condom on. You had been off contraception for a few weeks now, it had been messing up your body and whilst they investigated why, they suggested you use other forms of protection to stop you getting pregnant.

“Fuck don’t, you can’t cum inside me. I’m not on anything. My doctor -“ you said, a little panicked but Chase didn’t listen, continuing on with what he was doing. He was roughly slamming inside you, his hand moving to touch your clit as he fucked you relentlessly.

“I can and I will,” he said, holding himself inside you as he felt his cock twitch and all of a sudden, you were shaking with your orgasm too as you pulled him across the line. It was too late. He was spent and so were you.

“Can’t wait til you’re pregnant with my child,” he scoffed, leaning down to give you a rough kiss as he rolled over off you and back to his side of the bed. You blushed, laying there unable to move with everything that had just happened.

That was the best fucking he had ever given you.

“Do you really think we‘ve made a baby?” he asked after a few minutes, his voice much softer now, “Cos you know I’d love nothing more than to make you a mom. And I swear I’d be a good dad.” You just chuckled.

Your soft boyfriend was back.

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be added 🥰)

@starkeyobx @lovelyhedgehog44 @gryffindorpouge11 @jjmaybankmakesmecry @pankowforlife @bayy2452 @proactivetypeofgirl @hoebx @fangirlfree @severa-kane @lovedetlost @slutforsmutsstuff @smokingbeersdrinkingweed @raiinyhood @samxslaughter @valeriiecameron @burgstead @mayceelou @strokesofstokes

#chase stokes #chase stokes smut #chase stokes x reader #chase stokes x you #chase stokes x y/n #chase stokes imagine #chase stokes fanfic #chase stokes fanfiction #chase stokes fic #obx #outer banks #obx smut

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pagiecakewritesstuff · 2 years

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1. MORPHEUS|DREAM OF THE ENDLESS X READER/OC

Assorodus meaning "silvery water".

Purpose may or may not exist, depending on our personal ideologies. The Endless know better though, they saw the entity prowling the lands before the beginning of history, and it was older than them. Not by much, a few eons maybe, arriving after the birth of the universe we know. For this being was strong and withered the coldness of the void until everything was created. First of Writers, the name it was given, for the inherent purpose of every breathing thing had to be formed in words. Whether we believe in it or not.

SERIES MASTERLIST

It all began with the first ray of light as it was the predicament of everything for later to come.

A mere beat later I was there too, thrown into the endless void, cradled by the warmth provided by this brilliant illumination sweeping through the newborn universe. Utterly alone, I was wishing for an explanation, a hand to hold. Don’t get me wrong, I was no child, I never had to be one, my endless existence contained no birth, nor it will have a death, but this doesn’t make coming into being without a certain creator any easier. Thus an immense wave of depression tore through my soul. Everywhere my eyes wandered I only saw this slowly pulsating light leading me nowhere. Believe me, I tried to follow, and made futile attempts to call out for someone greater than me. I ended up going in circles.

In my grave pain, I’m uncertain how much time passed until I suddenly spotted a star, as alone as I was. I raced towards it in the yet empty space. This presence that was other and outside of mine made me feel something I’ve never felt before. Every ion of this star buzzing, whirling around had given me inspiration and strength to keep me going. For the first time in a long while, I was happy. To express my joy I reached for the only things I knew how to form myself; words. I weaved them into the star itself with love and affection. Little did I know that I was given just a few minutes to craft my story, not nearly enough. I barely managed to note down the main goal of my plot and only that, before by exploding the star propelled me outwards to empty space. Shaken I turned back to investigate, searching for answers. What I found shocked me even more.

In the space of the star, I discovered a planet, exactly as I described in writing what the heavenly body would turn into. The climax of my prose came to reality seconds after being written. And I ascended onto the barren, still fuming earth. At that time the horizon was angry, radiating with the colours of red. I marked this occasion clearly in my memory, not wishing to forget my first achievement with my prose. Now as I tell you this, I don’t remember many things coming after that moment in my existence. It was never my task to know everything I ever wrote, as I soon realized this would be my craft forever. To write the end purpose of anything coming into existence.

Eons passed while I loyally composed my sentences to every rock, river, mountain, and blade of grass. The landscape I knew turned from grey to blue, then, as continents emerged, to green. Wandering through the prehistoric forests sometimes I had the chance to spot beings much like me. Seven of them to be exact. I was told by them that they had their domains that they were the sovereigns of, unformed and yet incomplete. They had no role in their existence, so after convincing them that I am no threat, I offered my services. Hesitantly they accepted and the writing of my greatest work began. After telling me that they were never to die, I had to form my story as such, creating purposes that could be fulfilled continuously as long as time itself existed. I drew inspiration from their names. Being the eldest I started with Destiny, giving him a plot that later many confused with mine. So let me clarify early on: there is a vast difference between Destiny and Purpose. The latter is the reason for which something is created, while the former are the events that will necessarily happen in the future. I only focus on one occurrence in everything’s life, in which it will reach its ultimate reason to exist, outside of that I don’t need to know anything, otherwise, I might tread into Destiny’s territory.

And I would never plan to do that, since against all the confusion surrounding our names we remained close friends.

Next came Death, her prose the most melodic out of them all. Her younger brother Dream received a beautiful task, which turned his realm into a wonderland. For Destruction, I used strong words, while Despair and Desire turned out somewhat softer, but not less ominous. All of this was observed by Delight, who continuously peeked over my shoulder, especially when I was creating the story for her. And after all of the Endless settled into their realms we set out to begin our work together. Soon the first humans appeared.

Initially, this new arrangement was tedious and hard, we had to learn how to complement each others’ skills and at the same time not cross over plans or wishes. And against all of that humanity was complex, sometimes full of violent intentions, then by a complete turnaround was capable of creating beauties. They gave me my first real name too, Aristotle to be exact, he called me: Telos. I was no deity to the ancient Greeks, not like Morpheus, only a notion in their great works about teleology to summarise the meaning of purpose. They did a remarkable job at that, might I add. There were times I had to keep my drafts a secret. Until the end of time, I should not let on about what a vortex is, for example. I’m not sure who instructed me to do so, but deep in my soul, I know this is the right way to go about it. Even when Dream himself failed to contain one, leading to the destruction of his realm.

As I mentioned above humanity turned out to be more complex than expected. To my surprise, they developed a strange obsession with finding out what their purpose in life is. Many called to me unknownst to them to ask, only I never answered. After I while I developed a strange obsession with watching them, as they hunted for answers between the planes of life and death until they had to depart forever. I knew all too well that if they were able to find something it would only end in disappointment. Not everyone has the purpose they hope for, it can be mundane, solely for moving the universe forward.

For good work I always needed a fine place for inspiration, thus I turned out to be a wanderer between realms. I could enter every domain with permission from its ruler and travel the halls of castles of all shapes and sizes. Like a hummingbird, from flower to flower, I flew through all dimensions one could imagine, my fast-beating wings giving birth to stories for all by lifting me to impossible heights. Not one thing was left without an epic woven into its fibre of being and when I looked down onto Earth it sang my prose back to me, intertwined with what the Endless had given. It was the most enticing song ever sung for the few who could hear it.

Aside from history and its expected tolls of various horrors, the universe kept moving forward as a river keeping to its bed. Until one day, when I noticed that stray brooklet, deviant from the usual drift. First, it was nothing major, sometimes I managed to forget it even, not stressing over the cause of it. I wrote in blissful ignorance, only… my pages came back to me, carried by a strange wind, icy and cutting. I didn’t understand. No pages should make their back to me unless the purpose on them remained unfulfilled after death. And the numbers increased, hundreds first, then thousands. Wherever I sat down to scribe, by the time I stood up I was surrounded by torn parchments of paper. I had to investigate.

One kingdom I neglected over the years, not by intent, but the Dreaming tended to distract me from my job, so remaining there required extra concentration, for which I didn't always have the power. Just by willing, I landed on the sandy beaches of the great endless waves. A heavy, grey blanket hung over the landscape, robbing it of the vibrancy it had. The murky water licking at my feet was foamy in a sick manner, forcing me to take a step back toward shore. Frantically I turned around searching for an entrance into the realm I was expecting all along. Cracked and discoloured, the ivory gates were towering over me, crumbling, pieces of the great relief already gone, half buried in the sand. The ivory eye of a once whole carved man stared at me. I needed no more.

This is what leads up to my arrival in England. While roaming the streets, collecting clues and following up on leads, I find many sick. Close to one million people are affected, some are unable to sleep and at the same time, others are incapable of waking up. This explains the return of my pages as well as the decaying state of the Dreaming.

I hear a rumour spreading on the streets about a certain Rodric Burgess and the devil he keeps in his basement. It could be anything, but with the first cab, I can catch I head towards the countryside, hoping that I didn’t let myself be misled by some bedside tale intended to frighten children at night. The location is in Wych Cross, a manor called Fawney Rig, old, its walls carry many stories between bricks, some I wrote, others are simply formed by time. Burgess is perplexed by my visit at first, then invites me in after correcting me about his name. He likes to be called Magus. It's easier than I thought to make him believe that I’m an admirer of his work, he bites onto my bait like a big old fish. We talk and I feel the thrumming power coming below the house, it makes my skin itch. Alexander, son of the Magus, observes us cautiously from the gallery. We lock eyes for a second, then the boy’s eyes wander towards the window and I follow. Outside I spot a raven, one that I would recognise among a thousand. I send a tentative surge of magic towards her. Jessamy opens her beak, though I can’t hear the sound from inside, then flies away. I’m focusing on Burgess again and a couple of compliments later he invites me to stay for the night. I accept.

Under the pretence of exploring the estate, I tread through the fields and orchards keeping an eye out for the familiar black patch in the green. Jessamy patiently waits for me by a mossy stone wall. Sadly she confirms all my worries, her little anxious body restless to get down into the basement. She informs me about the guards and the shift changes, all the entrances of the manor, and possible exit routes. It's easy to hide here, she says, been doing it for years. I let the shock show on my face. Years…

I usher Jessamy back to the safe shadows of the branches and my waiting game begins. The people of the house can’t see me if I make it so, however, I want to be completely alone when sneaking into the basement, so I set up a trap to delay the shift change. Burgess is cautious, thus I feel the need to show myself from time to time, ask for a drink, and require information about the architecture of the manor or the collection in the library. He is pleased by my curiosity, but even he has to excuse himself after a while and retire to his bedroom. The rooms grow eerily quiet, the time of the shift passes and not a soul enters. Soon, swearing under their breaths the day guards leave. I listen to them complaining all along the driveway until they are out of earshot. It’s finally my chance to make a move.

Immured beneath the ground I reach the cold chamber without anyone noticing. The air down here is musty in the absence of any ventilation. Next to the iron gate the table set up for the guards now stands lonely, a rotting piece of wood furniture. A hint of dampness is eating on it. These stones sing louder to me, almost to the point of shouting, reverberating the thrumming power in the room. Big forces are at work here. And in this earsplitting cacophony, everything is quiet at the same time. A rat scurries away from me, dragging my gaze with it across the stone floor, that's when my sight settles on the clear glass sphere in the centre, partially suspended from the ceiling. I halt as the ice-blue stare attacks my presence, burning a hole through my torso, like a predator before making the kill. Only this predator is caged without hope for escape.

His body I recognise, I’ve seen him naked before, but now the stretch of his skin is strange, sickly, I can see his bones protruding from underneath as if trying to break through his pale flesh. I remember his complexion being fair, though not to this extent. Partly obscured by his jet-black hair, his eyes are two windows to fiery rage, so much so, that I sense he is not sure who I am yet, his swirling emotions rendering him blind. Pink lips barely moving, he slightly pulls them into a scowl, threatening me without the use of words. I know him, but at the same time not, not in this state. What have they done to him?

“Morpheus?”

The shift is immediate, his cold surface shatters and he gasps for air as if he forgot how to breathe in the past few seconds. Maybe he did. His warning stance falls apart and he crumbles to the very bottom of the sphere in pieces, like a broken statue. I can see the tremors raking through his body as he leans against the glass and I can tell he is starving, hungry for interaction.

“Dear Morpheus…”

“Is it really you?”

I dare to step closer, feeling the burn of magical wards through my clothing. The golden circle smoulders on the floor, signalling the line which I must not cross. Even I buckle under this force, unable to destroy what's causing it.

“Yes.” I look into his glossy eyes. Tears cling to his lashes, threatening to spill. This is way too much emotion compared to the Morpheus I know. “I hoped I will not find you here. Not you at least.” He remains quiet, his palm now flush with the glass reaching out for me. I try to do the same, but the scorching air makes me yank my hand back. “I knew it will be you when I met Jessamy outside. She is quite worried for you.”

“Jessamy is here?” He stops trying when he sees that I can’t even get close to the sphere, disappointment evident in his posture. “I thought she left.”

“Not for a second.”

Thinking he pinches a stray lock of black hair between his forefinger and thumb, lightly pulling on it.

“So she didn’t carry the news to the Dreaming then.”

“I’m afraid so. No one welcomed me when I went there.” Where are his siblings in his time of need? Where are the Endless?

“You’ve been to my realm?”

“Yes.” Before my eyes, his soul collapses into itself even more and I’m unsure if I should keep information from him to prevent causing further pain. In the end, my conclusion is that he has the right to know.

“What has become of it?” It’s certain he doesn’t expect good news.

“The Dreaming is crumbling without its master. I couldn't get past the gates without your formal invitation, so I can only imagine what I would’ve found beyond.” To see him soo defeated after my answer is like a stab to my chest, I feel like I have to keep the silence away, so I change the subject. “What happened to you, Dream of the Endless?”

“They wanted Death.” Is all he says.

“Better that she keeps away from this place then.”

“The man, Burgess, asks for gifts that I can’t give, nor that are mankind’s to receive.”

I kneel in front of him, following his slowly averting gaze. Yet again anger flashes across the two beautiful irises. He tries to close himself off after showing momentary weakness towards me.

“How long have you been here?”

“Years, a decade. I can’t keep track of it.” He is ashamed. He shouldn’t be.

“Morpheus, why didn’t you ask for help?”

“I need you to go back to my realm, you shall rule over it while I’m away.”

My face must say everything because I immediately see his expression fall, and now he is void of every ounce of hope that seeped back into him when he made his request.

“You know I can’t do that, Lord of Dreams. I shall not mingle with human or Endless matters past my writings, the Creator was clear on that.”

“I saw how the heat of the spell touched you, I can’t ask for my freedom.”

“This magic is ancient, I’m not meant to break through.”

He finally truly looks into my eyes, while his body falls sideways against the glass, he doesn’t bother to catch himself. Now he lays on his side, half upright, spine slightly curved, following the lines of his cage.

“I didn’t think you would come, First of Writers.”

“I wish I came sooner.” Steps echo from the stairway, our time seems to come to an end. “I can stay if you want me to, but you mustn’t speak to me, otherwise they will know that I’m here. All I can offer is my company.”

A smile plays in his gaze, not affecting his lips, but it’s enough for me. I stay.

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