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writella · 1 month

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Reckless Romantics

Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.

Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music lover— any kind of music you like— but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofread— will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).

A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goals— time got away from me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know it’s always true.

— with love from writella, my beautiful reader. ♡

Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.

My mercy prevails over my wrath, he’d say— his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others did— admired, applauded, stuck by him for it— it would be a lie to say that he didn’t take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldn’t fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.

So why couldn’t someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?

As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldn’t fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.

From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all you’ve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.

This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, although— maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybe– sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.

Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the same— they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didn’t always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishaps– (it’s the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)— to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A band’s frontman.

“So, what about you?” One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. “Which one do you like?”

“They’re all attractive guys,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road. “But I don’t really think about them like that.” You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.

“Come on,” she prods. “You never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.”

“Whose us?” Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. “I don’t talk about that shit.” But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.

“I don’t laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.”

“But what I’m saying is that I didn’t let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,” the girl jokes half-heartedly.

“What do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because I’m the one with the CDs.”

And it’s true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girl’s room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girl’s room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discovery— the find of all finds— was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.

You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the band’s history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you weren’t listening, that’s what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the town’s music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.

Except for now.

“Well, if I had to guess,” the girl persists despite your silence, “I think it would be Rick.”

“What?” Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, “Why Rick? Everyone likes him.”

Rosita sends a look your way. It’s innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.

“Exactly,” the girl says. “He’s a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like he’d talk you through it, which I think would be good for— someone like you.”

Your face is on fire, you can’t even speak properly. “I- first of all, what do you know about my experience?” you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, “Second, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?”

Oh—

That makes car goes quiet.

You know you made a mistake.

You didn’t mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didn’t apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. It’s not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rick’s curls are, how he doesn’t have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him.

Right?

Maybe it doesn’t matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you don’t get close to them. And it didn’t matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.

Right?

Anyway, let’s get back to your crass… joke.

“Hilarious.” Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.

“That was ages ago though,” the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, “and he did it to help her. He didn’t care about the mess he made. He save her. I’d say that’s pretty romantic.”

“Let’s not call that romantic,” Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. “That wasn’t love.”

“That was reckless, not romantic.” You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

But after that day, it was all you could think about.

The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that he’d send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.

These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.

Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyone’s? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if you’d like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasn’t just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peer— at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But it’s not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didn’t get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldn’t have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and she’s tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you can’t help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didn’t make you feel like the childish little sister others do.

Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But then— it all caught up to you.

Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.

And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than that— he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.

You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didn’t. He hasn’t spoken to you in almost three weeks until—

“Woah-” you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.

“Sorry,” you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. He’s still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.

“Hi,” you whisper tentatively.

“Good morning,” he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You don’t miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesn’t miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.

“Good morning,” you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.

“Good morning,” he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.

“Oh wait— is the leader’s meeting here today?” Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, “I totally forgot! I’m sorry. I know I should be gone by now.”

He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I was just going to the bathroom.”

“Here? Was someone in the one downstairs?”

“Just wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didn’t see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.”

You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying you’ll sound immature or stutter in front of him. “I'm sorry,” you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: “I know you’re busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?”

Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closet— you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.

Rick doesn’t question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much you’ve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? It’s like you haven’t felt him in ages.

“What were you playing today?” He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rick’s legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.

“Selena. Rosita loves her. It’s one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.”

He nods. “I probably wouldn’t understand a bit of it,” he laughs.

He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you don’t. There is a silence that follows until you ask, “So,” starting slowly, “what’s wrong? Is Daryl aright?”

He doesn’t answer. His mouth is open as if he’s deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, “You know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.”

The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appear— a quiet laugh. “Well you know I’d never want to make you sad. Especially not you.” You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. “We’ll be fine,” he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, but— he knows he doesn’t want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldn’t after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you what’s happening: “Daryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how he’s always going out there. But I think it’s way too soon.”

You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. “I think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,” you suggest.

“I know,” he nods a bit annoyedly; “and that’s a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethin’ he can be so damn stubborn. It’s frustrating. He won’t compromise or listen to anything.”

Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like he’s describing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.

“And,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldn’t tell you what he’s about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glenn’s arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought ‘em, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.”

You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. “Wow,” is all you can get in before he speaks again.

“Imagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldn’t even meet him?” Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. “It was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on what’s inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.”

Your eyes remain wide, “We did so much rebuilding you.”

“We did complete rebuilding.” He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: “I think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I must’ve hurt him,” Rick realizes, “and now he definitely won’t be back today— maybe not even until next week.”

A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things you’ve never dealt with. You didn’t want to say something stereotypical.

“I’m sorry I’m putting all this on you.”

“No, no,” you quickly console, trying to think. “Um, well,” you say, starting unsteadily, “this is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I don’t even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?”

“I do,” he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:

“This is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t those two hate each other?”

“I mean, yes— but it’s much more complicated than that to me— but no, I don’t mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I don’t remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because they’re brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, but…” you trail off.

He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like you’ve gone too far. It’s all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to what’s going on that you’re even confusing yourself a little. “I think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think that’s like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But there’s still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like I’m sure you already know and I didn’t even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life you’re trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.” You laugh small and breathily as you end. “That probably didn’t make sense.”

Rick smiles to himself. “I didn’t get that first bit, with the quote, but no… that made a lot of sense to me.” He nods toward you and you return his smile. “You’re so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.”

This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: “May I, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: “yes.”

Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. You’re slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftly— worried you’ll lose your confidence, worried he’ll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you don’t know. But you’re sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.

Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also weren’t.

Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, “I liked that,” he says softly.

“You did?” You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.

A short, airy snicker comes out, “Mhm,” he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.

“Can I… try it again?”

Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. “Yeah,” he nods, voice gentle. “Do you want me to help?”

You nod before you speak, happily accepting, “Yes.”

He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesn’t notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smile— the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.

Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, “Come here.”

You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.

“You want to try this time?”

“Uh,” he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but you’re afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, “Yes, okay.”

So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. “Sorry,” and quickly he responds that it’s okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.

You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.

Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. “Wait,” you say, “I like this.” You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. “But… there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay,” his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, “What it is?”

Another pause. “I feel nervous,” you whisper.

“You have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”

You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.

He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.

“Well, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,” you stutter, “I want to pleasure you. If that’s okay. And I was wondering if you’d teach me how- to touch you here.” You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.

Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.

This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didn’t expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. “I feel like I took advantage of you last time.”

“Rick…” you shake your head. “I’m the one who didn’t close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everything…” You start to worry— is he second guessing everything now?—“I feel maybe we remember this differently.” You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.

Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before.” His thumb sways on your skin. “I just don’t want you to end up feeling like you’re wasting your time. Your first times.”

You’re surprised, “It’s so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you don’t think you’re good enough.” You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. “I like you. So much.” You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. “No one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you know— she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just don’t. I don’t have my person, or any person.” You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. “You’re kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me… “ If your face could get any hotter, it does, “And, well, you’re very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.”

God… Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situation— and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying to— would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose that’s one for widower’s wisdom.

Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. “Remember when I did this the first time?”

A smirk came on, there’s the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.

“Yes,” you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, “Should I start taking this off too?”

“Mm, stay like that.” He’s taking off his belt. “Thought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.”

Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.

As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didn’t realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happens— although it’s only been twice— and each time he talks to you— which has been plenty— you steal a little more of Rick’s heart and he just can’t stop it.

“So,” he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, “you usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.” He shakes his head, “there’s not too much too it but it’s best to keep your hand light at the start, you—”

You nod quickly, “May I?”

As he nods back you, “Yes.” And as he says it you’re already licking your hand.

“Is it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?”

He’s caught off guard, “No, no, that helps.”

So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but you’re a little scared to speak up that way just yet and you’re too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how he’s so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a little— testing it out to see what happens—and he groans, unadulterated this time, “oh, fuck.”

The heel of your foot that’s under your lap pushes into your center at that.

You start pumping faster. “Am I doing good, Rick?”

Hearing your voice sets him off, “Fuck, sweetheart. Yes.” He’s honestly choking out each of his words, he didn’t expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that… he can’t even remember. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. You’re feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.

You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.

“Did I, make you come?”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing.

“I did?” your cheekbones rise as you ask with awe— it was another first for the books.

Rick’s tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contact— almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. “Doesn’t always happen that fast,” he explains.

“Well before a month ago I didn’t know how to make myself come so I wouldn’t know,” you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. “I didn’t expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it was…” you smile while giggling, “interesting.”

“A good interesting I hope.”

“Very,” you assure. “I liked it.” You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesn’t tell you that you don’t have to; he helps along with you.

“You sure you’ve never done any of this before?”

You shake your head. “I just read fiction books.”

He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.

When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, it’s time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.

Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, “I really wanna show you something sweetheart.” He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. “Can I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?”

You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. “I-” you start nodding your head, “-I would really like that.” And in such a small voice you add, “Please.”

Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, “I would love to.”

Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once they’re gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.

Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldn’t like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that they’d get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happening– someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feel— you now knew what it was like to be desired.

Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.

He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, “Look down. Don’t miss your first time.”

Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, they’re always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see you’re nervous. You don’t trust yourself, you know it, and he’s starting to realize it too. You’re scared of completely letting go.

He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. “No one’s here,” he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. “Relax,” he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Don’t think about who could come downstairs.”

“What if Rosita or Daryl come back?”

“What if?” He says it so simply as if he’s ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but… you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Lay back,” he gently commands, “forget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like I’m the only one who's here.”

Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you can’t control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, “uh, ah, uh, uh” that turn into “sorry, I’m sorry.” You’re still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time you’ve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.

But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. “I like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds you’re making.”

Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.

“Keep going. You don’t have to be shy.” He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. “We’ve already made a mess anyway.”

He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, “Can you make sounds too?”

Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, “Want me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?” His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.

Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.

That’s it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. “I love tasting your pussy, baby.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole “My bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?”

“Oh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.”

Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. “Sorry,” you say. You’ve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. “Rick! Oh my god,” you moan and then again and again and then you come.

Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.

He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. “You did such a good job,” he says. “You always do.”

You’re filled with pride at that. “Thank you.” Then worry sets in. You realize how public you’ve made everything. “Did I just ruin your life?”

He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.

“I’m gonna check downstairs. Okay? If they’re there, they’re there.” You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. “They might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes are still nervous, but it’s all too late anyway. “Okay,” you respond.

“Okay,” he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, “I promise I won’t wait two weeks to see you again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.

When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.

As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.

Call when you’re done, it reads.

“Rosita?” He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?

He can almost hear the grin on her face. “They should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “There’s just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.”

Before he can respond, telling her that it’s absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:

“So, fucking my roommate? You’re glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.”

She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. “Just get over here,” she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.

Oh, Alexandria’s leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomen’s fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.

Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.

#rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x reader smut #rick grimes x fem!reader #rick grimes x female reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x y/n smut #rick grimes x you #rick grimes smut #rick grimes fic #rick grimes fluff #twd fanfiction #twd smut #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead smut #the walking dead fic #the walking dead fanfic

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1-imaginary-girl · 11 months

Text

A Mischievous Love Story - Part 8

Loki x Reader, Thor x Reader (platonic)

Summary: The reader and Loki were madly in love until you found out that he died. Deciding to follow Thor on his adventures, you soon find out the truth about what happened to your boyfriend. This series is a re-telling of Thor: Ragnarök with the reader inserted into the story. Reader uses she/her pronouns.

Warnings: Descriptive violence.

Word Count: 5.2k

Prologue Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

I've finally returned to this series and yes it was because of season 2 of Loki and yes I'm still completely wrecked over it. There isn't much interaction between Loki and the reader this part, apologies for that, but after this it will be mainly just them as I stray from the plot of the movie to focus on their romance!

She’s my wife. The words echo in your mind over and over again as you stare at Loki. You heard him say those words, you know you did, and yet there’s no way that could have happened. There’s no way that he just called you his wife. Right?

Your mouth is hanging open and you want to close it or say something but you're in shock. Loki shoots a glance your way and grimaces. There’s no way.

“Your wife?” the Grandmaster asks, equally as confused as you. For some reason, you also hear disappointment in his voice. But you don’t have time to dissect that. The Grandmaster looks at you and then down at your hand. The jig is up, you think. “I never noticed that.”

Wait what? You look down at your left hand and again appear utterly shocked. There, on your ring finger, sits a wedding ring. It’s absolutely gorgeous. A gold band with emerald leaves wrapping around it. For a moment, it all feels real. The ring is perfect and you're married to the man you love. But reality settles in all too quickly.

The ring has been conjured up by Loki’s magic. You look at his hand and see a matching band. You remember that you're not married to the man you love. You're pretending to be married to a man who broke your heart. And the pieces plummet into your stomach, sinking like stone.

You want to glare at Loki but the Grandmaster is still looking your way. If you don’t play along, he’ll probably punish Loki for trying to lie to him. So you send a smile his way and nod. You can’t get yourself to speak.

“Please, let her go. She can stay here with me. I promise she’ll fit right in,” Loki says, using his most persuasive tone of voice. The Grandmaster seems to consider it.

“Alright,” he says. You toss aside your anger for now and rejoice in the fact that you don’t have to fight anyone. Although you will not be thanking Loki for getting you out. Not like this. “If your wife prevails in her fight, she will be free to accompany you in your place among the higher-ups.”

“Wait what?” Loki says and you slump a little in defeat. But you don’t let it keep you down. All you have to do is win one fight and you're free to enjoy a luxurious vacation until you can find a way to escape this planet.

“It’s a deal,” you say, looking at the Grandmaster. He smiles as if you've just sealed your fate. But you're used to people underestimating you and you've come to enjoy it. It only makes it that much more satisfying when you win.

“Wait, can’t we just—” Loki tries to say something but the Grandmaster’s mind is set. He extends a hand towards one of your restrained hands. You shake it to the best of your abilities despite your hand being tied down.

“I look forward to seeing how this plays out,” he says with a giddy smile on his face.

“As do I,” you say.

“Y/N—”

“See you on the battlefield,” the Grandmaster says before he hits a button on some remote and your chair is moving. You're caught off guard but determined not to show any fear. Instead, you'll focus on anger.

"Y/N!" Loki calls after you again but the wheels have already been set in motion. There’s no going back.

†††

Your surroundings pass by you in a blur, and you find it hard to focus on anything you pass. You allow the chair to take you where it’s programmed to go without resistance. Next thing you know, you're being hauled into a circular, white room and you land roughly on the ground, snapping you from your thoughts. You turn just in time to see the big cell door being slammed shut. You contemplate taking your anger out on the door, but you feel so drained of energy that you just let your head fall back with a sigh.

“Are you alright?” You hear a voice say, causing you to jump as you hadn’t taken note of anyone else in here. You push yourself onto your elbows and turn your head. “Over here! Big pile of rocks waving at you.”

As the voice said, you see an alien made of rocks casually sitting against the cell wall with his hand raised to wave. You've seen aliens like him, but not this species specifically. Beside him is another alien with purple skin that reminds you of an insect, with four black beady eyes and mandibles for a mouth. The creature is also in a full suit of armour with two blades where its arms should be.

“Yeah, I’m actually a thing, I’m a being,” the rock alien says. “Allow me to introduce myself, my name is Korg. I’m kind of like the leader in here. I’m made of rocks, as you can see, but don’t let that intimidate you. You don’t need to be afraid unless you’re made of scissors.” The alien, Korg, giggles to himself as he and the other alien stand up. “Just a little rock-paper-scissors joke for you. This is my very good friend over here, Miek. He’s an insect and has knives for hands.”

Miek moves his arm/blades around in what looks like a karate move, but you think it’s meant to be a gesture for hello. That was a hell of an introduction, you think to yourself. As this isn’t the strangest interaction you've had today, you slowly stand up to properly greet them.

“Hi,” you say with a little wave, which feels awkward but they seem to respond well to it. “My name is Y/N.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Y/N,” Korg says and Miek does another karate-like gesture. Your brain is pounding from your previous conversation but you figure you should be polite. Especially if you are going to be stuck in here for who knows how long with them.

“So,” you say, wondering what to ask. “What are you guys in for?”

“Well I tried to start a revolution but didn’t print enough pamphlets, so hardly anyone turned up,” Korg says. “Except for my mum and her boyfriend, who I hate. As punishment, I was forced to be in here and become a gladiator. Bit of a promotional disaster.” Then he leans in and starts to whisper. “Actually, I’m trying to organize another revolution right now. It’s a bit underdeveloped at the moment, but don’t let that deter you. Do you reckon you’d be interested in something like that?”

“No, actually I’m a bit busy at the moment.” You look past Korg and down the hall of this weird prison. If you can find an exit, maybe you can escape before the fight. From there, you can try to commandeer a ship and go back to Asgard. Simple. A quick breath, and you take off running down the circle. You're only running for a few seconds before Korg reappears in front of you.

You widen your eyes and look back before facing the alien again. “Did you—”

“Ah, yeah, no, this whole thing is a circle. But not a real circle, more like a freaky circle,” he says, and you just scrunch your face, trying to wrap your head around the whole thing. When’s the last time you've had a proper rest? You know, without being knocked out. Feels like a lifetime ago. “It doesn’t make much sense, but nothing around here makes sense. That’s the only thing that makes sense.”

You slump down against the wall as Korg talks. “So, I’m really stuck in here?”

“I’m afraid so. But it isn’t all bad. Miek and I have made up a few games to pass the time. For example, there’s this one called—”

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t think I’m up for any games at the moment.” You sigh and let your head hit the wall. “It’s been a long day.”

Korg gives you a sympathetic look before nodding. “I get that. Feel free to have a rest, Miek and I will look over you if you’d like,” he says. Despite everything that’s happened, you smile at them.

“Thank you.” Korg gives a nod while Miek does another expression you can’t quite figure out. With that, you settle against the wall. It’s not the most comfortable, but you've slept in worse. You sigh and sleep quickly takes over.

You're not sure how long you've slept for, but you're abruptly woken up by the sounds of shouting.

“Stay away from her, you freaky ghost!” you hear Korg yell. Groggily, you pull your eyes open to see Miek in a fighting stance and Korg throwing fallen bits of himself at—

“I just need to talk to her, I’m not going to hurt her!” Loki says. He’s standing a few feet away from you. You're confused as you watch Korg’s rocks pass through him before you fully wake up and understand it’s an illusion. Part of you is hurt, another isn’t so surprised anymore. Another one of his tricks.

“Like I’m going to trust the word of a freakin’ ghost!” Korg yells back. You realize that they really did watch over you as you slept, which makes you smile. As much as you love seeing Korg try to hit Loki with rocks, the two of you need to talk.

“It’s okay guys,” you speak up, clearing your throat. They all turn to look at you and Loki looks relieved. “I know him.”

Korg looks him over and Miek doesn’t stand down until Korg gives the go ahead. “You’re safe for now ghost,” Korg says threateningly. Korg looks at you once again and when you nod your head to say that you're okay, him and Miek walk a little way down the circle to give you two privacy.

“Making new friends already?” Loki jokes, trying to lighten the mood. You don’t respond. Instead, you look down at the ring still on your finger. Loki sighs. “I understand you’re upset—” You glare at him and he sighs again. “Look I’m sorry, but it was the only thing I could think of to protect you!”

You bristle at that. “So tell him that I’m your friend or a cousin, not your freaking wife!” you say. You don’t have the energy to yell at him right now.

“You don’t understand, the Grandmaster…he’s very particular about who he allows up there. It wouldn’t have been enough,” he says calmly. You shake your head.

“Then maybe you should have just let me compete normally,” you say, your anger growing the longer he’s here. “I could have made a deal to get out of here not prolong my stay.”

“Annabel, you haven’t seen the competitions,” he insists, stepping closer. “I have. They’re brutal, and I haven’t even seen his beloved Champion.”

“I told you, I can handle myself,” you spit out.

“Maybe, but I can’t just stand by and watch you get hurt.” Those words cracked something in you. You snap your eyes up to meet his and from the fury in them, he knows he said the wrong thing.

“You didn’t want me to get hurt? You don’t think this hurts?!” You stand up and shove the ring in his face. “You don’t think having to pretend to be your wife after you broke my heart is going to hurt me?” He looks down in shame, pain on his face. Good. “I’d rather face his Champion right now then have to endure that kind of pain.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“You keep apologizing but nothing changes with you! You keep making selfish moves and tricking people—”

“Hey, that was not selfish.” He defends himself but you don’t want to hear it.

“You tricked me, Loki. Again,” you say with tears in your eyes. His sudden defensiveness is crushed. “You tricked me into pretending to be your wife. Do you know how messed up that is?”

“Love—”

“Do not call me that!” you yell, getting into his face. You try to poke him in his chest but your finger passes right through him. You laugh humorlessly as a tear slips down your cheek. “God, you’re using a trick right now!” He looks hurt. “You couldn’t even come to see me yourself, you had to hide behind an illusion.”

“This place isn’t easy to get into,” he argues quietly, but you shake your head.

“I can’t fight with you again right now.” You turn away, moving back to the wall. This move seems to hurt him more. You slide down back to where you were. “Just go back to whatever party I’m sure the Grandmaster is hosting.”

“Y/N, please, let’s talk about this—” he begs, coming closer but you don’t move a muscle.

“I don’t have anything else to say to you,” you say, defeated. His eyebrows draw close together and if you didn’t know better, you’d say his eyes are welling.

“Please,” he whispers, and if he were really here, maybe you would have sought comfort from him. Maybe you would’ve kept talking. But he’s not.

“Go,” you say, keeping your eyes trained to the floor.

After a moment of hesitation, where it seemed like he wanted to reach out, but he couldn’t, he drew back. He takes a step backward. “Just…” He seems at a loss for words. “Please be careful.” When you don’t respond, his image shimmers and disappears. You put your head between youry legs and let a few more tears fall.

†††

You soon find yourself escorted into some sort of training rooms. Species of all kinds can be seen preparing for a fight. For the first time, you really start second-guessing your decision to fight. But you won’t give up, not yet.

The training area is next to the stadium and you can hear the distance sounds of cheering which makes you cringe. How could people actually watch this and enjoy it? You're running your fingers along the weapons, trying to decide which would suit you best, when you glance over at the divide in the area. On the other side of a wall of lasers is a bar of sorts. It looks rough, not the kind of bar you would want to find yourself in. But then your eyes widen.

Drinking at the counter, is the woman who got you thrown into this hellscape. Your blood boils as you try to find Korg. When you do, you point towards her and say, “Korg, that’s the woman who put me in here! Who the hell is she?”

“Ah, that’s scrapper 142,” he says, recognizing her. Interesting that she doesn’t seem to have a real name. “She’s a toughie, put the best of the best in here. Those Asgardians, man.”

Your burning gaze at the scrapper snaps back to Korg. “Wait, she’s Asgardian?” you ask.

“Yup,” he says. This changes everything. If you can talk to her, you can tell her what’s happening at Asgard and she can help you escape. And you won’t need to be anybody’s fake wife.

You hurriedly make your way over to the laser wall. “Hey! Hey, you!” you yell at her, not the most polite way to start the conversation but she did toss me to the wolves, possibly literally. She cocks her head and notices you. She smirks.

“If it isn’t the interesting human,” she says while taking a sip from her burning beer. You flinch. “I’m excited to see what you’ve got.”

“I need to talk to you,” you say, ignoring her statement. You won’t let her rattle you up again, not when you need her help. She looks at yo, waiting. “You’re Asgardian, right?”

She doesn’t reply but rather scoffs and goes in for another swig. As she does, you see an interesting tattoo on her left arm. You squint at it, and although you don’t remember what it means, you recognize it as an Asgardian symbol. Perfect, proof. “Okay, well, I’ve just come from there,” you say, and she looks at you in confusion. “I’m best friends with the prince, Thor Odinson? God of thunder?” You don’t mention Loki for obvious reasons.

“Good for you. Tell his Majesty I say hi if you ever see him again,” she says, walking away. Your eyes widen.

“No wait! That’s not the point,” you say, following her as she walks. She sighs and waits for you to continue. “Asgard is in danger. I need your help to escape this place and return to help or else the whole realm is doomed.”

“Pass,” she says, not looking at you. Your eyes blow open.

“Wait what?”

“Y/N the human, you’re up!” you hear someone yell from across the room. You sigh. Of course that’s the name they’ve given you.

“Good luck!” she says, as two guards come to take you. You're desperate, trying to convince her and stall your fight.

“A lot of people are going to die, and you’re just okay with that? Your own people?” you say enraged. “Then you’re a traitor to the crown and a coward.”

This catches her attention and it seems you've hit a sore spot. “First of all, my people are with Sakaar now,” she seethes. “And second, I’ve given enough to the crown. It’s no longer my problem.”

Two guards grasp you by your arms as you contemplate her words. Yo struggle against them out of frustration, but you don’t forget the chip in your neck. “Good luck,” the ex-Asgardian says as you're dragged away from her.

You're taken into a room and sat in another chair with handcuffs. “You guys sure do love locking people up,” you say to no one in particular. The workers don’t even give you a second glance. You're taken through a series of experiments in which they change your look completely. Considering you've been stuck in your regular earthly clothes for quite a while now, you welcome the change.

First, they do your hair. A really old man comes in with an intricate device that you feared would ruin your hair completely. But all he did was tie it into an intricate braid and made a crown on your head.

Next, they painted your face, and you didn’t feel like much of a fighter as they applied blush and lipstick. You couldn’t help but wonder who that is for. They paint three lines of purple down the middle of your face and you try to ask what it means but no one gives you an answer.

To finish off your debut look, they fit you into proper fighter attire. A chest plate the same colour as the lines on your place is fitted with blue, metal shoulder pads. The pants are black with blue knees pads to match the shoulders. The boots are black and so is your utility belt. The finishing touch, however, is the purple cape that they pin to your left shoulder and your waist.

They hand you a helmet that you're to put on after your entrance. You roll your eyes at the dramatics, although you do admire the helmet. It’s gold and with a wing on each side flowing upwards. There are also two pieces that move down to protect the sides of your face.

You are given the weapons you have chosen: a strong but simple sword and a powerful and small shield. You're hoping you can rely on your powers, but if all else fails, you have two daggers strapped to your sides so you can go down swinging. But as you walk towards the arena, you can feel the water around you: the pipes in the building, the drinks from the crowd…you can even use human or alien liquid if you have to.

You're told to stand in front of the gate until it opens and then you're left alone. You can hear the crowds much clearer from where you are now and they sound bloodthirsty. You grit your teeth as you listen to the Grandmaster go on and on about the battles, celebrating the deaths of contestants before you which makes your stomach turn. But it also fuels your energy: you will not be one of those names. All you have to do is win one fight and you're free from this madness…and thrust into another sort of madness.

You’ve fought plenty of aliens before with Thor but never in an arena in front of a crowd. A part of you is excited by this opportunity, a chance to feel what it was like to be a gladiator back on Earth. You hold onto that as you hear the Grandmaster announce you.

“Tonight, we are pleased to have a new contestant,” he says and the crowd goes wild. You bounce on the balls of your feet and focus on your breathing. “I can guarantee you’ve never seen anything like her. You’re in for quite a treat.” You swallow as the gates slowly start to rise but you set your features to stone. You’ve got this. “We’ll see what you think. Without further ado, ladies and gentlemen I give you…” You walk onto the sands of the arena. “Y/N the Human!”

As you enter the arena, a wave of boos greets you. You assume they don’t like newcomers here, especially not of the human variety. And although the sound floods your senses and threatens your confidence, you set your eyes across the plain to the other gate. The crowd doesn’t matter. You need to see who you're facing.

The Grandmaster is projected on a hologram overlooking the entire stadium. That makes sense for a man with his ego. But as you scan the crowds, your eyes catch on one box in particular. It stands out from the crowd and you can’t see in it but you do see the colour yellow painting the inside. Without a doubt, you know it’s the Grandmaster’s box. And without a doubt, you know Loki’s in there. It’s like you can feel him. You wonder what he’s thinking as you stand transformed in a giant arena. You wonder if he doubts your skills, despite his words. A new type of anger sparks at that thought and you set your gaze straight ahead. This is a chance for you to show him how you've grown without him.

“Isn’t she something?” the Grandmaster laughs as the crowd continues to boo you. You let the taunts roll past you, harbouring your energy. “Alright, now it’s time to welcome back a previous competitor.” A rumble rolls through the crowd as the boos quiet down. “She’s a warrior who has made quite the name for herself.” Red puffs of smoke burst over the audience and you place the helmet over your head and secure it. “What she lacks in looks she makes up for in brute strength.”

Across the arena, the other door begin to open. “You love her, I love her…” the Grandmaster builds the tension and you tighten the grip on your sword. “Ladies and gentlemen, get ready for…Hindaa the Ruiner!”

The doors open to reveal a tall alien woman, donned in red armour. The crowd goes wild, and you try not to let it sway you as you try to size up your opponent. It’s hard to see from where you are, but she looks to have gray skin with a dark-haired ponytail. She waves her arms for the crowd, holding a mace in one hand and a club in the other. So much for your gladiator’s battle.

You wait for her to approach you, grabbing hold of the water beneath the arena with your powers. Your eyes are laser-focused on Hindaa. The woman finishes showing off to the crowd and immediately starts racing towards you. That’s when you truly see how big and muscular she is, standing at least six and a half feet tall.

You don’t move. You drown out the noises from the stands and wait until she hits the center of the arena. When she does, you tighten your hold on the water and summon it forth, bursting through the floors of the arena at a speed that catches Hindaa in its waves and throws her into the air. You watch as she’s tossed back to the other side and lands heavily, a cloud of dust spreading around her.

The crowd is silent as you let the water wash onto the arena floor, wetting the sands. Then all at once, an eruption of applause and cheers emerge from the crowd. But your focus isn’t to entertain them. You move across the arena as Hindaa picks herself up off the ground, staggering to her feet and dripping wet. The closer you get to her, the angrier you can see she is. You smile and then see her launching towards you.

She runs and jumps to tackle you, but you take hold of the water again and quickly freeze it, entrapping Hindaa in an iceberg. She struggles and growls as her head remains unfrozen. You walk until you stand a few feet away from her.

“Hindaa was it?” you ask. She growls again. Up close, you can see that her skin is, in fact, gray. But more than that, there are red dotted stripes covering her body. Your eyes widen as you recognize what species she is. “You’re a Kylosian.” She stops her movements to glare at you. “How did you end up here?”

“That’s none of your business,” she hisses, continuing her struggle.

“Ah, so you can speak English. Good,” you say. “Because I wanted to have a quick chat.” The audience has settled down and you can hear whispers of confusion. You internally smile at how the Grandmaster must be reacting. “I don’t want to hurt you, I’m sure you’re a lovely person.” She snarls again. You keep smiling. “Anyway, I just need to win this battle and then I’ll be out of your hair.”

She’s staring you down, and you foolishly think that she’s considering your offer. “You don’t want to hurt me?” she asks and you nod in agreement. Yes, this plan might work after all. “That’s a shame.” You catch the cracking sound too late. “Because I want to hurt you.”

Before you can react, Hindaa’s right hand bursts through the ice and with it, her mace. The weapon swings and catches you in the side, sending you flying several feet away. You swallow a scream before you hit the ground. You groan. Begrudgingly, you look down at your side to see three large scratches ripping through your uniform. You take a deep breath and then fire yourself up, ignoring the pain.

"Have it your way then," you say as you pick yourself off the ground. Just as you're on your feet, Hindaa is crashing down on you with her club but this time you react quicker. You bring up your shield and the club smashes down onto it. You wince at your arm, but then you swing your sword up and catch her in the hand, causing her to drop her club. You quickly summon the water from the ice and trap the club in a bubble, casting it far, far away from the arena. Hindaa looks down and glares back up at you. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“I wasn’t trying to be nice,” she growls and you look at her in confusion as your sarcasm misses her completely. Her mace quickly comes swinging at you and you defend yourself with the shield again, but the force of her swing causes you to stumble back. Caught off guard, the mace comes back around, this time aiming at your legs. It swipes across your skin and you hiss as your knees buckle and you're on the ground again.

Hindaa continues her attack, kicking her leg up and catching you in the chin, throwing your head to the ground. You groan as your head swirls in pain. You can feel your nose pulsing in pain and feel blood begin to drip down. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Your spirit is wavering, and that’s when you feel something on your hand. You look down to see Loki’s ring pulsing. It’s never done that before. You risk a glance over at the Grandmaster’s box, but you still can’t see him. But he’s still here with you. Conflicting emotions rise within you, but it gives you the strength you need to get back up.

When you're on your feet, Hindaa swings at you but the mace is too slow this time, as you tuck and roll over to her side. You catch her side with your sword and she cries out. Her mace comes back but your shield is there, and with your other hand you swipe at her legs. She cries out again. Before her mace can take another swing, you jump and slice your sword along her hand, causing her to drop the mace. You did the same trick as you did with the club.

With no weapons, she charges at you. You use your shield but she still tackles you. She crushes your body under hers and rips the shield away from you, wrenching your arm to the side causing you to cry out. With fury, you slice your sword across her back, and when she bends in pain, you slip out from under her.

You're both dripping blood and your bodies are swaying, but you're determined. You toss your sword away, your power brimming to the surface. Before she can stand again, you take a few steps back before running and jumping towards her. As you're midair, you summon the water to freeze over your fist. You fall and crash your frozen fist down onto her head. You land on your feet, just barely. You're panting, but when you look back, Hindaa is unconscious. You take a few moments to catch your breath, and as you do that, the sounds of the crowd rush back in and you hear a loud, thundering cheer.

Holding onto your side, every inch of you either sore or bleeding, you look to the stands to see the crowd cheering for you. You're not sure if the adrenaline caused it or if you were delirious, but in that moment, you smiled. You raise one of your hands in triumph and the cheers get louder somehow. You laugh, not sure what it is exactly that you're laughing at.

Suddenly, the Grandmaster’s hologram reappears. “What a show! What a show!” he says, laughing and clapping his hands together. The efforts of the battle begin to weigh on you and you just need to keep standing. “Everyone give it up for our new champion, Y/N the Human!”

You noticed your name didn’t change. “I told you she’d be something to see!”

You look back at the door you came from to see it lifting and you start to walk that way, not much caring for what the Grandmaster has to say. You notice a few workers bring a hovering stretcher for Hindaa. One of them must have noticed your limping, because they come to your side and help take some of the weight off of your leg. You're not sure if you thanked them. All you were looking forward to was a nice, long nap.

You momentarily forgot whose bed it is you'll be sleeping on.

* * * * *

Tag List: @riribaex @80strashbag @justanothermagicalsara @speedy-object-dream @blueberry-soda57 @comehomecomehometous @chaoticsomeone

#loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki x reader series #loki x you series #loki x y/n series #loki #loki imagine #loki series #loki marvel #marvel loki #loki fanfiction #marvel #mcu #marvel fanfiction #thor x reader (platonic)

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asterkiss · 1 year

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Hello!

I have a request for a Mabill one shot; Bill and Mabel are watching a cheesy romance movie and a kissing scene comes on. Ofc Mabel is swooning but Bill is gagging. Lots of teasing and fluff ensues and maybe some smooches too ;)

Also, just want to let you know that I think all your fics are really good! They are well written and the plots are always exciting. The way you write the Gravity Falls characters is so fitting!

Thank you!!

I just recently watched 10 Things I Hate About You so have a oneshot about Mabel and Bill watching that. Also, thank you for the kind comments ^^ Glad you like!

-MOVIE NIGHT

'Why do I have to watch this again?'

'Because you lost the bet.'

Bill pressed his lips into a thin line. 'In my defence, no ordinary human should be possible of fitting that many gummy worms in their mouth without asphyxiating.'

‘Thank you!’

‘That wasn’t a compliment, brat!’

Mabel ignored him, plucking out a DVD from the shelf and spinning on her heel to display it towards him with a bright grin. ‘Tah dah!’

The demon remained seated on the large sofa chair, expression one of clear disinterest. When his eyes fell on her movie pick, his expression soured even more.

‘It’s 10 Things I Hate About You,’ Mabel gushed, shoving it into the DVD player before rushing over towards the sofa chair. She shoved him by the arm, forcing him to grumble and shift aside to make room for herself as they sat side by side in the living room of the Shack.

‘I can list ten things I hate,’ Bill replied flatly, folding his arms like a sulking child. ‘This movie is one of them.’

The teenager rolled her eyes, used to his antics by now. ‘You’re not gonna get out of this from being snarky.’ Nope, no way. She’d won the bet fair and square.

‘Meh.’

‘This movie has a young Heath Ledger in it, he’s soooo hot!’

‘I don’t follow the same beauty standards as humans.’

Mabel raised her eyebrows, peeking curiously at him as the movie began. ‘What are your standards, then?’

The demon glanced at her, remaining silent for a moment. And as the silence stretched on under his intense scrutiny, her curiosity began to be eclipsed by self-consciousness. ‘What?’ Was he about to point out a zit on her face or something? She was sure she didn’t have any this morning…

‘Eh, let’s just get this over with.’

‘Okay!’ Mabel settled into her seat, grinning ear to ear as the movie began, enjoying it despite Bill’s sarcastic comments every five minutes.

Time passed by and one of the characters proceeded to pull out a pair of black panties from a drawer

“You don't buy black lingerie unless you want someone to see it!” Bianca the character proclaimed on screen.

‘Guess that’s why yours are flower print,’ Bill remarked dryly out of the blue.

‘Wha-’ Mabel snapped her head around so fast she almost got whiplash, face flushing red in impressive speed. ‘How the hell do you know that!?’

‘You threw them at me once with the rest of your laundry when I drew on your pig with a permanent marker,’ Bill replied. He kept his eyes on the screen but it was hard to miss the smirk on his lips as he wound her up.

Mabel felt embarrassment swelling up inside her as she glared at him. ‘You can’t-!’

‘Shhh, I’m trying to watch the movie,’ he whispered, placing a hand over her mouth.

Ooh, she wanted to hit him so bad. She shoved his arm away from her, folding her arms as she tried to refocus on the movie and reign in her anger. Calm down, Mabel. He was trying to rile you up on purpose so you’d end Movie Night and he could escape. It’s what he wanted.

She would persevere, dammit!

Gradually, her ire waned as the movie proceeded. It was one of her favourite movies after all and she enjoyed it. Bill still kept trying to ruin it though.

‘It’s so sweet how far Patrick goes to win over Kat,’ Mabel sighed blissfully, watching as Heath Ledger serenaded her on screen with a beautiful rendition of ‘I Love You Baby’.

‘Yeah, but only because he’s getting paid to do it.’

‘In the beginning, sure, he comes off as this intimidating and scary guy who is fine getting paid to show fake interest, but then he begins to really fall for her and changes for real. It’s such a romantic story.’

Bill hummed in response but didn’t say anything further. When she cast him a peek, he was staring at the screen with his lips tugged down slightly. Jeez, was he still sulking that he was watching this?

The next scene showed the main pair going on a date and eventually making ou with one another on screen. Mabel swooned happily, clasping her hands together as she watched in delight. She heard Bill making a displeased grunt and she elbowed him in the side. ‘Shut up, this part’s good.’

‘I find no joy in watching strangers make out. Not unless he’s about to pull a spider out of her mouth.’

Mabel’s smile vanished, making a face as she pinned him with a sharp stare. ‘Ew gross, why would you say that? Kissing is nice, it’s a way for you and the person you like to be close and show you like each other! It makes you feel all giddy and happy inside.’

‘Uh huh, and how many people have you kissed?’

She closed her mouth quickly.

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘H-Hey, I’ve kissed at least two guys!’

‘Kissing your brother on the cheek doesn’t count.’

‘I wasn’t counting him!’ she cried, face red. ‘I kissed Mermando when I was twelve, and then there was a Spin the Bottle game when we were fifteen…’

‘That’s not really an impressive record.’

‘Oh yeah? How many people have you kissed?’ she shot back, feeling defensive.

Bill blinked. ‘I dunno, a handful?’

‘Wait, what? How? You’re a demon! You just said so yourself that you don’t like kissing!’

‘Sometimes I had to play pretend when possessing someone, or there were a few times it worked to charm a human into doing what I wanted. Heh, that was fun. The manipulation, not the kissing.’

Mabel lowered her eyes, grasping at her head with both hands. ‘Oh God.’ Bill Cipher had a more luscious love life than her, this was appalling. Not even the movie playing on screen could distract her.

‘Seriously, this is what gets you down?’ Bill asked in disbelief.

‘All the girls in my class have kissed loads of boys, or have boyfriends,’ Mabel muttered dejectedly. ‘I tried to make a guy up when they asked me, but that kinda fell apart when I panicked and said his name was Elmo.’

Bill snorted.

Mabel raised her head back up, watching as the characters got ready for prom. ‘Urgh, my prom is in two months and I won’t even have a date. Where’s my Heath Ledger to sweep me off my feet?’

A few seconds later, Bill spoke.

‘I’ll take ya.’

She turned her head to find him watching her. She frowned suspiciously. ‘You will?’

‘Sure, unless you wanna go with your brother?’

Her face screwed up at that. ‘No way.’ A pause. ‘But why you? You’re not planning to like, spike the punch, are you?’

‘Oh, I definitely will. But I’ll keep it restrained to alcohol only, no illegal drugs. Scouts honour.’ He smiled, placing a hand over his chest.

Mabel’s eyes narrowed. ‘That’s it? You don’t want anything else?’

‘Ya want me to ask for more?’

‘No. But… it’s weird.’ She straightened up, focusing on his face as she looked for any sign of lying. ‘You don’t do nice things.’ Sure he’d been more laid back as of late compared to his original self, but this was still pretty far out of the ballpark for him.

He blinked. ‘I can be nice.’

‘Why?’

His expression grew annoyed. ‘I already said why.’

‘I want a better answer,’ she insisted, leaning closer.

Bill scowled. ‘You’re being a brat.’

‘You’re being difficult.’

He clenched his jaw, gaze flaring with irritation before something inside him seemed to snap. A second later both his hands grabbed her arms as he leaned down, nose inches from her own as he pinned her beneath his gaze. She tensed up, her earlier gusto faltering in the wake of his abrupt actions.

‘I’m offering to do one nice thing for you because out of all the morons in this hick town, you’re the only one I can slightly tolerate in a way that doesn’t leave me nauseous and wanting to leap off a cliff.’

Mabel blinked. But before she could reply, he tightened his grip on her biceps and spoke on. ‘You’re aggravating, exasperating, and irritating. I find your hobbies ridiculous and your food tastes questionable. I think you’re annoying and loud and troublesome, and yet despite all that I still find myself craving your company and smiles and I hate it.’

He finished off his tirade with a deep breath, eyes drilling into her. ‘Is that a good enough reason?’ he snapped, face flushed red with anger. Or was that embarrassment?

Mabel wanted to reply but wasn’t really sure what to say. Huh. When she continued to stare at him speechless, he eventually growled and released her, turning his head to look away.

Wowzah.

It wasn’t exactly him listing ten things he hated about her, but it was close enough and oh wow her face felt hot. She placed both hands on her cheeks, feeling the heat practically radiating from her face.

‘Soooo,’ she began, also averting her gaze. ‘You like me?’ She wouldn’t have thought that was possible. Sure they’d been hanging out a lot but she’d always thought he hated their time together.

He grunted, not saying anything.

Mabel raised her head, finding him leaning far away in the chair as he looked at the movie with a sudden intensity she doubted came from his interest in the movie. She shuffled closer, noting how his eyebrow twitched as their legs brushed against one another. Peering at him keenly, she could see him growing more and more antsy beneath her burning stare. Eventually, his eyes snapped towards her, their gazes locked.

‘What?’ he asked, gruffly.

Mabel smiled. ‘I also like hanging out with you.’

He frowned, eyes wandering over her face. Neither of them had explicitly said they liked each other but it was good enough.

Eventually, his expression relaxed, and he raised a hand towards her. She tried not to flinch away in nervousness as he pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. Ooooh, there went the giddy feeling in her chest.

His gaze darkened and he began to move his head towards her and oh god, oh god, was this happening?

Heart swelling inside her chest, her eyes begin to flutter close as he drew nearer, and she prepared for her third ever kiss. (Third time the charm, folks!)

But then, just as their lips were about to meet, they were interrupted.

By a scream.

A piercing loud feminine one that went through the Shack and cut through her ear drums. Both of them flinched, almost knocking heads as Mabel felt her heart leap into her throat. She looked towards the television, eyes widening in horror as she watched a woman getting chainsawed in half as blood and guts splattered across the screen.

Mabel was the one to scream this time.

So much for her third kiss.

‘My bad, I forgot I did that.’

Mabel glared at him, their Movie Night having been brought to an abrupt halt after that. Bill shrugged sheepishly.

‘I saw the movie on the shelf, and thought it would be funny to record over the end with a slasher film. Seemed pretty funny at the time. In my defence, I thought it belonged to your brother since he watches all the cheesy romance films and then lies about it.’

Ooh, she wanted to hit him again.

‘Cm’on, it was a mistake,’ he said, nudging her on the shoulder. ‘No biggie. All done.’

‘You haven’t even apologised!’ she cried.

He stopped at that. ‘Apologise?’

‘Yes!’

‘Okay, fine.’ He smiled. ‘I’m sss…..’ He paused, clearing his throat. ‘I’m sssssss….. sooooooo…. soooooo….’ After several seconds of struggling, he groaned and threw his hands up in exasperation. ‘You know what I’m trying to say, right? That’s good enough.’

‘No, it’s not!’ she snapped, annoyed with him. ‘And I’m not gonna forgive you until you say it.’

When he continued to stand there awkwardly, not saying anything, she groaned and turned to walk away. ‘Forget it.’ She was going to go eat some ice-cream in a tub and hole up in her room by herself.

But then:

‘I’m sorry.’

She stopped. Turning back around, her eyes fell upon Bill as he stood there in the middle of the room looking queasy.

‘You said it,’ she mumbled, surprised.

‘Yeah, first time saying that and genuinely meaning it in a trillion years. So I’m forgiven now, right?’ he asked, folding his arms gruffly.

‘...Yeah, I forgive you,’ she said. ‘But, I’m still mad at you. You have to make it up to me!’

‘How?’

She considered it for a moment. ‘There’s a movie at the cinema that’s out. Another scheesy romance one. I want to go see it. You can take me.’ He wouldn’t be able to mess with the movie then.

Bill blinked. ‘So, like a date?’

Mabel’s heart skipped a beat. Oh. ‘Um… sure, like a date.’

They both stared at one another.

‘Alright, ready to go then?’ he asked.

‘Uh… No, wait, I need to get changed.’ She couldn’t wear old sweats to a date! And make-up, she needed make-up! ‘Gimme twenty minutes!’ she blurted out before quickly rushing away and up the stairs with a flushed face. She needed to ring Candy and Grenda, stat!

Meanwhile, Bill was left behind on his own.

But not for long.

As a tall shadow loomed over him from behind, the demon slowly turned around to come against a familiar face.

‘So, I heard you’re taking Mabel on a date,’ Stanley Pines said, voice slow and calculated.

Bill smiled brightly. ‘Yup! Don’t worry Fez, I’ll have her back by eleven.’ Wink.

The older man’s face darkened, and maybe making a joke wasn’t the right thing to do but he couldn’t resist! A large hand suddenly came down on his shoulder, the man’s grip like that of a grizzly bear.

‘I think you and I should have a chat, hm?’

‘Haha, Shooting Star’s expecting us to leave in twenty minutes. Don’t wanna leave her waiting, she'd get upset!' he replied, smiling back even as he internally began to panic.

‘Oh really?’ Another hand grabbed his other shoulder, leaving no room for escape. ‘No worries then, that’s plenty of time for me to finish up.'

Finish up? Finish up what!?

'Why don’t we go down to the lab, eh?’

Oh boy. If he was late to the date, someone call the cops!

#mabill #i have a few more prompts in my inbox which im getting to!#thanks for sending them in!#drabble

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butchbetty · 10 months

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having read the book right before i saw the movie i really enjoyed it of course, but i have a few issues with the way things were presented;

i feel as though they made coriolanus more sympathetic (to make the movie as a whole more appealing) and gave his character more excuses for his actions by having other characters vocalize what was just his paranoia that motivated him in the book

while i’m on this point i think they made sejanus less sympathetic and didn’t do enough to go into the internal conflict and the moral obligation he was feeling

i was with people who hadn’t read the book and their friendship came off as more genuine with snow having to do what he did out of self-preservation rather than snow manipulating sejanus into trusting him and betraying him by choice

i know since film is a visual medium it was necessary to put lucy gray in the middle of the action and have to fight for herself on a few occasions, but i found it almost hilariously unrealistic how many near death scenarios she escaped

i think the dialogue between coriolanus and lucy gray in part 3 was lacking and came off more as just building up the love story; the two of them finally getting to know each other was a big part of revealing how cynical snow really was and the fundamental differences between them becoming dangerous way before the ending

i also think it would’ve helped narratively to reveal what coriolanus really thought of lucy gray; that he had to convince himself she wasn’t really district in order to respect her and that his romantic feelings were incredibly possessive (but again i think they ignored this to better sell people on their romance)

ultimately, i think the gravity of his betrayal at the very end was undersold. his paranoia sending him after lucy gray making the stakes so high that she feared for her life, and finally him using sejanus’ death as a stepping stone to get to the power and wealth he thought he deserved.

i know that was all pretty negative but there was a lot i loved about this movie!

this film stands as a great addition to the hunger games series and will have great re-watch value in the future

i was going to shout-out one of the actors but it doesn’t seem fair because they all did a great job! they made the story so real and did such a good job bringing the characters to life

the music!!!! i could go on and on!! but my favorite thing about it is they kept all the lyrics from the book and did a great job translating these scenes into film, especially since it was hard at times to picture what hearing her sing was like at those moments

speaking of the auditory storytelling, hearing the jabberjays at the hanging was so haunting it’s definitely what suzanne would’ve wanted

lucy gray’s accent was so cute and had all the charm i imagined it with while reading the book

i like the added line that no one will watch the games if there isn’t a victor; making it even more clear why they don’t just kill 24 kids at random and why they were forced to let katniss and peeta win (it also adds more dramatic irony that if not for this belief snow held katniss and peeta would’ve died in their first hunger games, squashing hopes of rebellion, just like gaul was trying to do by killing all of the tributes!)

overall it’s so great having a visual counterpart to the book since it is so action-packed and uses so many visual descriptions; i think just like the other 3, if you’ve read the book getting to actually see everything unfold is such a treat!

#any thoughts? anything i missed?#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas spoilers #thg

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sp00kycrumpet · 10 months

Text

Paradise. (7/10)

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

Rating: E

Tags: Javi is baby, fluff, holiday romance, Nick Cage is Nick Cage, reader is bilingual

Warnings: swearing

Summary: Working as Nicholas Cage's personal assistant was your favourite job; so when he asked you to accompany him to Mallorca for this birthday party he'd been invited to, you were more than happy to go. What you didn't anticipate was the host himself.

Will also be posted on my AO3

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)

(Part Six)

The safehouse was in a secluded part of town, quiet and no neighbours for miles around. Javi explained there was everything needed to escape in there, from disguises to passports. Everyone was quiet as they piled inside, you and Gabriela made tea for everyone to try and calm their nerves.

Javi explained where Lucas would have Addy, filling everyone in on what had really been happening and that it was all nothing to do with him. A plan was formulated to disguise Nick as some Italian family leader and have him just walk into Lucas's compound in broad daylight, get the girls and leave. Olivia was doubtful of the plan as she went through everything that was stashed there, pulling something together as you and Gabriela taught Nick a few basic Italian phrases. He didn't need to speak it fluently since Lucas didn't speak any Italian at all. You wouldn't leave until morning but you doubted anyone would sleep.

You stood in the kitchen, taking a moment to just be alone and try to think clearly. You could hear Nick and Olivia talking in the next room and Gabriela on the phone to someone. Your hands trembled as you rinsed out the mugs and placed them on the draining board. You leaned against the counter and let your head drop, your heart was pounding as anxiety washed over you in a heavy wave. Sure you'd seen things like this in movies a thousand times over, but to actually live it was terrifying and reminded you of your own mortality.

"Hey…" A soft voice burst your bubble of fear, bringing you back to earth as you realised a few tears had slid down your cheeks. You wiped your face with the back of your hand and turned to see Javi standing there. He looked a little nervous, like you'd lash out at him or something. But instead you just gave him a tired little smile.

"Javi. I thought you were still busy looking for the stuff for the morning." He shook his head, taking a tentative step towards you.

"It's all sorted and ready to go. You've been crying…" He paused as he noticed the shine on your cheeks. "Are you okay? Stupid question I guess." You took a shaky breath, shrugging a shoulder.

"It's… it's a lot to take in Javi. One moment I'm curled up in your beautiful home, watching movies and laughing with you, the next I'm running for my life and trying to save the life of a girl I've known for most of her life." Javi nodded, his hands rubbing together as he listened.

"I never wanted this life. I tried so hard to get away from it all but you can't just… do that. When my father passed, I thought I had an out by passing it all to Lucas but… he wouldn't have any of it." Javi looked like a lost little boy suddenly, the corners of his mouth tugging down slightly as he shifted his weight on his feet.

"I know. When Nick first told me he thought you were dangerous and the CIA wanted you, I just accused him of being jealous that you and I spent so much time together. I couldn't believe a word of it." That made him smile slightly, taking another step towards you as he reached out a hand. You watched him as you reached back and gently slid your hand into his. His fingers curled warmly around yours, his thumb gently running along your knuckles.

"Thank you for not just instantly believing the lies that were spread about me." You shrugged a little, watching your hands before looking up at his face, as expressive as always and showing his relief and happiness.

"I like to think I can read people, I didn't like Lucas the second I saw him." You admitted. Javi laughed a little.

"Are you okay though?" He asked after a moment, you just shrugged slightly.

"Scared. Nervous. Exhausted. It's heavy…" You mumbled, taking a shaky breath. Javi nodded, hesitating before taking that final step closer to wrap his arms around you in an attempt to soothe your nerves. You tucked yourself against his chest, finally letting go of his hand to wrap both arms around Javi's middle. You closed your eyes as he rested his chin gently against the top of your head. It did help calm your heart a little, you needed a hug and Javi seemed to know it without any prompt. You knew it didn't solve anything and was partially a little self indulgent, but it helped stop you panicking. The two of you stayed like that for a moment before eventually parting.

"Thank you Javi." You said softly, Javi smiling and squeezed your hand before leading you back to the living room where everyone else was. Nick asked you to go over the phrases a few more times with him while Javi and Gabriela gave what little information they had on Sergio Baldassari, the elusive Italian mafia head. Javi drew out a map so Olivia and Nick wouldn't get lost in the maze behind the walls.

Sitting outside of Lucas's compound, you hated the silence. It had been almost an hour and still nothing. Everyone was anxiously waiting for Nick and Olivia to come out of the back door you'd parked by. Javi paced the dirt path by the door while you and Gabriela sat in the truck.

"I don't like this." You muttered quietly to her, Gabriela nodding.

"We just have to trust them. Nick is a great actor, he'll fool Lucas, I'm sure of it." She gave you a small smile before turning her attention back to the door. You bounced your knee nervously, chewing your thumbnail as you tried to stop yourself overthinking and worrying about how you'd break the news to the rest of the world if Nick didn't make it out of this alive. Impatient, you climbed out of the truck and made your way over to Javi, trying to ignore the bump of the gun tucked into the back of his pants. He seemed to sense your approach as he paused in his pacing and turned to face you.

"Don't worry so much. If Lucas had worked it out, we'd know about it by now. My cousin isn't as smart as he likes to pretend he is." He nodded, you just hummed quietly and glanced at the door before you both. "Trust me." Javi added, placing a hand gently against your back. You had to resist the urge to lean into him, now was not the time nor place to indulge in such whims. You opened your mouth to say something when there was a noise the other side of the door and it suddenly swung open, the two young girls bolting out. You led them both back to the truck, turning back once they were inside to see Olivia coming towards you, tossing her blonde wig aside. No Nick and no Javi.

"Olivia… Where are they?" Olivia let out a shaky breath, resting one hand against your arm as she rest the over her chest.

"The latex glue must have been old. The beard started peeling while Nick was talking to Lucas. I thought he hadn't noticed at first but he seemed to suddenly spot it. Nick grabbed Luca's gun… he told me to go with the girls." She took a breath, her fingers digging gently into your arm as she stood there. "I told Javi and he just went running in after Nick. They'll be here soon, don't worry." She mumbled, giving you a weak smile before moving to climb into the truck, fussing over Addy and Maria. Your eyes stayed on the door as you debated trying to go and help, but you'd never held a gun before in your life and knew you'd probably just cause more problems. You sighed and moved to climb into the truck again.

As you sat down beside Addy, you heard Olivia mutter something. You glanced at her then turned in the direction she was looking, one of the guards from Javi's house was approaching the car with a gun in his hands. Gabriela sighed as she tried to appeal to him, he responded by radioing in that he'd found the five of you.

"Carlos, please. You don't wanna do this to me. You don't wanna do this to Javi. He's been nothing but good to you." Completely devoid of any remorse or emotion, Carlos stared at you all.

"Javi is about to die. As are you." You felt your stomach drop, panic spreading through you as you tried to keep calm, gripping one of Addy's hands in yours. Gabriela scowled and slammed the car into reverse, hitting the goon and sending him flying backwards.

"Did we kill him?!" Gabriela asked, everyone peering out at him when he suddenly jumped up like the villain in a horror movie. You barely registered what he said when a gunshot rang out and he crumpled to the floor. Revealing a tired looking Nick holding a gun out. Javi bolted out from behind him, making his way to the truck. You heard Maria beside you, mumbling to herself how it was 'fucking cool' that she was staring at Nicholas Cage of all people. Gabriela climbed into the back of the truck beside Maria as Nick got into the driver's seat, Javi hopping up into the back with you. You exchanged a glance, Javi subtly sliding his hand into yours as the truck peeled off down the dirt track to get away from the compound. You could hear Nick rambling at Addy, asking if she was okay or wanted anything to eat. Javi's hand suddenly left yours as he twisted in his seat to look out the back of the truck, keeping his balance as the vehicle bounced onto a solid road that would take you towards town.

"Oh shit!" He suddenly exclaimed, getting everyone's attention as you all saw what he did. Numerous black cars speeding after you. Lucas wasn't going to take this easily. There was barely a moment to come up with a plan, the cars were catching up.

"Olivia, hand me the guns, they're right in there." Javi said, holding out a hand as you watched the black cars speeding after you.

"What are you doing?" Gabriela asked, you watched as Olivia handed over the ridiculous looking golden guns to Javi. You pulled Addy and Maria closer to you, trying to keep calm as Javi shoved the guns into his pockets.

"Okay stop the truck, I will slow them down." He said, your eyes going wide as both you and Nick refused.

"No way!" The two men argued and before you could say anything, Javi jumped out of the back, tucking into himself so he rolled when he landed. You felt your heart stop as Nick slammed on the breaks to try and talk Javi into getting back in the truck.

"I'm never going to have any kind of a life unless I stand up to my cousin! I need this… now go." Nick and Javi stared at each other, you tried to move so you could get out and try to talk to him as he yelled 'go!' again. You wanted to get out, help or talk Javi into dealing with this another way. Gabriela placed a hand on your shoulder and gave a little smile before hopping out of the truck with a gun slung over her shoulder.

"You stay here. I will keep him safe, get the girls out of here." She said quietly, nodding as you studied her for a moment and reluctantly sank back into your seat. Nick pressed on the gas and pulled away, you turned back to see if Javi was looking and felt your blood run cold as you saw Gabriela step close to Javi and pull him into a kiss. In lieu of everything, it was such a small thing to get upset over but after everything so far, it was a solid kick to the stomach. You could feel tears threatening your eyes as you turned away to check on the girls and managed a smile of reassurance, turning your attention to Nick and Olivia as they made their way through the town. Gunfire from behind caught you by surprise and you realised Lucas was on your tail. It made you panic that Javi was dead as Nick sped towards the embassy. Everything was so loud and happening so fast, your bones shaking as Nick slammed through the fencing into the embassy. Your head hit the back of his seat as you wrapped protective arms around both girls to keep them safe. The car slid to a halt as guards came rushing out to see what was going on.

"Is everyone okay?" Nick managed, a little woozy from hitting his head on the steering wheel. Before anyone could answer, Lucas appeared and dragged Nick from the car with a sneer and a gun to his head. Olivia and Addy jumped out to try and go after them, you trying to stop them both. You heard Maria get Addy's attention, nudging a dropped knife towards the girl, you stared between them before watching as Addy grabbed it and threw it to Nick. He grabbed it and jammed it into Lucas, the man finally going limp and dropping to the ground. You finally breathed a sigh of relief, Maria sinking exhausted against your chest as you held her close.

"Let's get you home." You whispered to her, the girl nodding and making a tired joke about getting Nick's autograph first. Your ears were ringing as your heart pounded in your chest, trying to figure everything out. It had all happened so damn fast, you'd barely had a chance to react and almost felt annoyed with yourself that you'd just sat there. Frozen in fear while Nick had a gun to his head. In a split second your best friend could have been taken from you if it weren't for the teenager currently leaning against you.

(Part Eight)

#no use of y/n #pedro pascal #javi g x you #javi x you #javi g x reader #javier gutierrez #javi #the unbearable weight of massive talent

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peachymilkandcream · 10 months

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The miscarriage thing gave me an idea. Evelyn hides her pregnancy from Levi. Then maybe she did something that made him angry so he, ignorant of her condition, beats her up, causing her to miscarry. How would they feel?

Levi x Evelyn -> I'm Sorry

(A/N: Sorry for getting to this so late but I'm back from the weekend baby and it's been great! Forcing my fiance to watch cheesy romance movies and other childish ones when he likes action was peak. But now I'm back to your regularly scheduled writing! Keep those requests/questions coming in and I'll try and get Break Me Slowly out tomorrow and My Husband, My Monster out Wednesday or Thursday!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon/dubcon, miscarriage, domestic violence, manipulation, mind breaking, yandere themes/behaviours, misogyny, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, etc.

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

Evelyn never considered herself the smartest person, but so far hiding her condition from her abusive husband had been going smoothly. He didn't suspect anything as of this point, and since she was being willing in bed he was more gentle. She had been walking on eggshells around him, making sure not to make him upset in any way to cause his anger to fly out of control. The level at which she had to degrade herself to keep his good humour was downright humiliating, but worth it in the end for the safety of her child.

Her morning sickness and fatigue had been easily explained by a common cold that was going around. Which had worked more in her favour than she thought because after hearing that he took precautions to ensure that he didn't get whatever illness she claimed to have.

She knew she had to tell him, she knew it deep down, but the fear of what he would do to her and his child loomed in the back of her head. Would he treat the child the same way he did her? If it was a boy would he mold him into the same type of monster his father was? Or a girl who would be auctioned off for a dowry to a man just like him? Treated as property and nothing more than a baby making machine. This is what kept her mouth sealed as he discussed her cycles and how he was going to try harder when she ovulating for a child.

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

Evelyn had kept it a secret, until she made a fatal mistake.

It had started when she began to deny him his marital rights, no matter how sweet and submissive she was he was still rough with her. Then she went on longer and longer walks, pushing the boundaries of her freedom without even meaning to. Secretly going into town to buy medicine to help her with the morning sickness. Levi watched it all and eventually concluded in his mind that she was trying to escape.

Which is what brought her to this moment, his boot connecting with her stomach over and over. His rage fuelled by a bad day and one too many glasses of scotch.

"You think you can just leave me!? After all of this, after how hard I've worked with you, how patient I've been! You're plotting to run away like a coward!?"

Part of her brain numbed her to the pain, thinking about the child that was surely dead by now. It was all her fault, she should've told him. And then he wouldn't be so hard on her. The risk of his increase in obsessive behaviour would have been worth it for a living child. It was her own stupid fault for testing his patience when she could have been more clever in keeping herself and the baby safe. It was her own fault.

Levi finally stopped when he saw the blood seeping between her legs. It had caught him off guard. There could be blood anywhere on her, but there...

"What is this meaning of this?"

His wife lies there and sobs, holding her stomach but not answering his question.

"Answer me woman!" He grabs a fistful of her hair, making her meet his gaze.

She stares at him with tear soaked cheeks, trying to get the words out. "The baby- I- I'm sorry-"

Stunned, Levi drops the hair in his fist, letting her head fall back down. The statement washes over him, making his whole body cold. What had he done? She would have been trapped with him by now if he hadn't been so heavy handed with punishment.

A small twinge of grief hit him, but not enough to cause him much sympathy. He quickly composed himself, remaining calm and cold as ever.

"I see. Well, there's nothing to be done about it now. Clean yourself up and I'll have you checked out first thing. Then, when you're healed, we'll try again."

Evelyn doesn't respond, sobbing into her hands even after Levi leaves her lying in the pool of her own blood. It was all her fault.

#break me slowly #levi x oc #attack on titan #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader

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panicatthediaz · 2 years

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So... Like I said in this post, I've been busy with work. To the point I forgot to post this last night. Oops. In my defense, I was up until 5 am trying to finish the project. And also as stated in the post linked, this will be the last I post for a bit. I'm not abandoning this fic, on the contrary, I'm trying to write some more, I only have one part finished after this.

[Part 1] – [Part 9] – [Part 11]

@madaboutmunson @lamburrito @benjaminrussell @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dijkstraspath @swiftiebuckleys @spectrum-spectre @epiclazershark @redheadchimechild @steddie-there @gayngerthings @manda-panda-monium

Pin a String to My Chest – 10

Reminiscing

Wayne hadn't expected a lot in his life. He never felt like he was missing much, either, no matter what people said life should be like. He never felt the type of love that friends and acquaintances talked about, for starters.

He had quite a few of those, once upon a time. Friends. But he grew up, moved to a different state altogether after high school, and it was hard to stay in touch. The ideas of what he wanted in life also seemed different from the people he knew back home and from the people he met in Hawkins.

Whatever.

The first time he ever felt strongly for another person, Lauren had just given birth to Edward James Munson, just weeks after convincing Wayne's brother to move to Indiana.

"Looks a little wrinkly, don't you think?"

Lauren had laughed and swatted at him. Richard hadn't made it to the hospital until hours later when Lauren and Edward were long asleep. Trying to figure out where he'd been wasn't worth the fight.

Little Eddie brought a lot of excitement into their lives, affectionate in a way that surprised Wayne. It had never been a strong point of his, but the kid deserved that he tried.

When Eddie was six years old, Lauren came over with the kid to drag him to see some animated movie release. Eddie apparently had insisted, and Lauren knew he wouldn't have anything to do on his day off.

"That was a nice movie," Lauren said once they were on their way back to the trailer park, looking at Eddie in the backseat. "Wasn't it, baby?"

With a glance at the rearview mirror, Wayne could see Eddie nod with a smile on his face.

"Tramp was really cool!" The kid exclaimed.

Lauren laughed, shaking her head. "I think I like Lady the most."

"Of course you do," Wayne chuckled. "Say, Eddie, did you have a favorite moment?"

Eddie hummed, apparently thinking it over. "I liked when the other dogs helped Tramp escape. That was nice of them," he said with a nod.

"That really was nice of them," Lauren said. "They realized they were wrong about Tramp and helped him out."

"Mhm!" Eddie hummed in agreement. "He was the good guy! Ma," he called, barely stopping to breathe. "Do you have a favorite part?"

Turning a little to face her son, Lauren nodded with a smile. "The restaurant scene, when they are eating spaghetti?"

Wayne shook his head, smiling. Lauren was a little predictable in her love of romance, and it was nice to see it. He didn't really get it, though.

"Why that one?"

Eddie's confusion was perfectly audible in his tone, and he could see Lauren's smile widening. Eddie was probably frowning, the kind that scrunched up his whole face.

"It's a cute romantic moment," Lauren explained. "They were out together and that made them happy." She shrugged. "I like seeing others happy."

Wayne could see him nod decidedly. "Like I'm happy!"

Lauren laughed softly, full of affection for the kid in the backseat of Wayne's car.

"More or less," Lauren corrected. "Lady and Tramp are like… Your dad and I," she settled on. "They really like each other." She paused, glancing at Wayne with a knowing sort of smile. "But that looks different for everyone. Some people," she lowered her voice as if she were telling a secret, "Are plenty happy on their own."

"Like Uncle Wayne?" Eddie gasped as a thought occurred to him, wiggling a little and accidentally kicking the back of the driver's seat. "You are happy, right?"

Lord help him, the concern in Eddie's question pulled on his heartstrings.

"Yeah, kid, I am." He reached to poke at his legs from the driver's seat. "Not missing anything in life."

"Okay," he replied softly. Eddie spent the next few minutes in silence, and Wayne let himself listen to the music playing softly on the radio. He heard Eddie shift around and before long, he found him looking out at the window at the next red light.

"Hey, Ma?" Lauren hummed to let him know she was listening. "Can I get a dog?"

Laughing, the two started discussing the logistics of getting a dog. Eddie repeatedly said that he'd take care of it, while Lauren said they should probably save some money first, then they would talk to Richard about it.

"He's not keeping any job," Lauren admitted later, well after Eddie had gone to sleep. "I'm worried Richard is going to do something stupid, you know he has a temper…"

Wayne did know. His brother was only four years younger, but their father leaving when Richard was six seemed to have changed something big for him. But he didn't know that their parents both seemed better off separated than Wayne remembered seeing them together.

The dwindling phone calls had hurt them both, though.

"I don't think I can do much," he told her a little hesitantly, "But let me know if either of you ever need me."

Lauren nodded, smiling sadly as she looked at the kid asleep on the couch. Eddie looked peaceful, unaware of life's problems, and Wayne wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible.

Over the following months, he brought the kid with him to Hawkins on his days off, the three-hour drive be damned. He let him ask the questions his father seemed to hate, and tried to encourage him to just talk to Wayne.

Not even a full year later, Lauren showed up at his trailer with Eddie in tow. The kid had a bruise circling his arm, and Lauren was smiling, but there was fire in her eyes. She said she had some things to do, but she'd be back for Eddie in a few hours.

The following day, she only said she had reminded Richard of some important things, and Wayne hadn't needed to ask more. Things went back to how they'd been, and he hadn't seen another bruise on Eddie.

And then Lauren fell ill.

Cancer, they'd said. Her health deteriorated too quickly, and she was gone the first week of 1976.

Wayne didn't see Eddie for months, having to make do with sporadic phone calls and a single visit over the summer. Eddie couldn't give him a number as his father kept moving them all over Indiana.

He got an upsetting call from CPS late February of the next year, and Eddie was living with him by the beginning of March. He didn't talk about how his old man left him on his own for days on end, but in the end Eddie was still much the same, just taller and with his hair shaved close to the scalp.

(He refused to cut it ever again. They compromised on getting it occasionally trimmed about 10 months later.)

For the next nine years, Wayne saw his nephew grow into his own person — though still so much like his Ma. It was a different kind of fire, he thought, but Wayne saw the same drive to protect the little guy that his mother had always had.

Wayne was sure it was what had initially attracted Richard to Lauren, but two years of marriage before Eddie was born had proven she couldn't be tamed.

Eddie was down the same path.

When his kid first came home with a bruised cheek, Wayne made sure he knew he could run from fights. Should run. Eddie, though, said it was easier to "be loud and distract bullies". That he wasn't in the fight until he put himself in it for some other kid's sake.

He'd been 13 back then. The protective streak only grew in highschool, especially after he found that club of his. And then he started dealing — which Wayne did his best to ignore after telling him to be careful and not to use it — in 1983, and the only black eye that whole school year had come from an out of control idiot. Eddie's words.

The point was that he knew his kid, better than anyone in this town. He (unwillingly) knew his music, knew (much more willingly) about his art and his ideas. Knew what he liked openly and loudly, and what he liked in the confines of their trailer.

He knew, with absolute certainty, that Eddie wouldn't have been capable of doing the things he was accused of during spring break, and he was proven right that next weekend.

He wanted Eddie to know that. But the kid had to wake up first.

#asexual Eddie Munson #Stranger Things #Eddie Munson #Steddie #Stranger Things fic #Steddie fic #Eddie Munson fic #ace!Eddie Munson #asexuality #Wayne Munson #Steve Harrington #Dustin Henderson #wereswriting #I hope you guys enjoy the beginning of Wayne's chapter :) I'm having so much fun writing him

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typingdyslexiaisathing · 8 months

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A Means To Find Slumber (Obey Me! fanfic)

summary: Retha is finally able to get to sleep. Thanks to the care of a friend.

characters: OC (who is NOT the MC just a 3rd exchange student), Diavolo

content: mention of depression, casual moment, fluff, romance

Retha had spent the entire day trying to get to sleep. With absolutely no success. Since having a cold on top of dragon features didn't make it very easy to get comfortable. The once human now hybrid giving yet another hard snarl to face plant into the pillows. Her tail whipping back and forth in a frenzy as she gave her mattress a few punches with her scaled hands. While her talon feet knocked against each other to make Retha wince at the contact.

Retha finally sat back up to turn her gaze to her room in the Demon Lord's Castle and heave a tired sigh of air. The full length mirror holding a reflection she was still getting used to. Since she was now a mix of Demon, Angel, Vampire and Sorceress now, it meant she didn't look at all human. Her once mouse brown hair had gone pure white from the incident. Once green eyes were now a glowing hue of purple. Horns along her temples to end in points that she was keeping filed down so as not to injure herself. Blue dragon scales all along her skin from her face down to her toes. Her fingernails might as well be mini daggers when she didn't file them. A long scaled tail the Leviathan had been teaching her to keep from knocking things (or people) over with. Her feet were now like those of a gargoyle to look menacing. Despite the socks Luke and Leviathan had made for her done with anime cats. She still felt like herself in the inside and had not changed in personality or beliefs. But on the outside...

The knock at the door had Retha turn her gaze and answer. "Come on in." But she was visibly surprised to see Diavolo at the door in his silk pajamas. His frown deepening as he walked in to speak directly to Retha. "I guess my hope that you finally fell asleep didn't happen. Even when Barbatos made that special relaxing tea?" Retha gave a sigh that had her all but deflate like a balloon. "It was pretty good tea. But no. Still can't get used to this whole getting comfy for lights out thing. I think the tea just helped with my cold more than anything."

Diavolo gave a warm smile to sigh and nod his head. "Well, that's something to be glad for. I let Lucifer know you will be staying with me for the weekend. So he and his brothers will be gathering up whatever school work they give tomorrow to have Solomon deliver it after classes. So you get to be my companion for the next three days. As such... I am here to help you with actually sleeping."

Retha watches with evident surprise as Diavolo moved to just get into the bed with her. His hands gently taking her own to slowly pull her to him as he chuckled at the look on her face. "Oh come now. I already heard from the others that you having a demon for your pillow worked wonders the other day. Beelzebub had you snuggle him while you joined his brothers for movie night. Only to completely pass out in a minute to stay that way all night. But this time, I will be the one to act as the pillow. So let's get you to lay down, Retha."

Soon enough, Diavolo had laid himself down in the bed with the pillows to ease Retha in to join him. His hands cradling her head to his heart as the blankets lifted up by magic to properly lay themselves over them both. A hum of warmth escaping Diavolo for him to run his fingers through Retha's hair. "Ah. I can tell that Asmodeus got you that newest shampoo. It smells lovely. But my your heart is racing. I can feel such thunder against my own ribs. Just try to clear your mind and breathe for me. Match my own breathing and just stay here with me."

Retha gave a nod to wrap her arms around Diavolo and do her best to relax. Her wings losing their tension to fold into her back and then actually disappear. So Diavolo takes his hands to slowly run his fingers down her spine in a leisurely touch with the barest trace of magic. Those violet eyes closing as Retha took in the sound of Diavolo's breathing. The heart of the current ruler of the Devildom drumming in a steady strength against her ear for Retha to feel a deep shiver course through her being. Both searing yet sweet. But she just hummed a note of ease to actually snuggle into Diavolo's frame. Which had him chuckle before he closed his eyes. The two soon fast asleep and off to the realm of dreams.

#fanfiction #fanart #Obey Me!#obey me! shall we date?#obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me! fanfiction #obey me! fanfic #Retha gets some good sleep with the help of Diavolo #(was originally going to be Lucifer)#(but methinks Diavolo would be better)

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ebonybow · 2 years

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hello i am here to ask about Loren & Enya and aksflsk literally any (or all) of those watcher fics

Jack!!! Thank you for asking!!

Loren & Enya was a little fantasy story I started writing after a long week of playing Skyrim, about an adventurer and a hunter who shack up together out of necessity, and romance ensues. It's very tropey and indulgent but I also wanted to write a trans character (Loren) in a fantasy setting.

Firstly she notices the glow of the fire just beyond the cliff's edge, and, when she peers down, the elkskin tent set against the face of rock below. The hunter himself is a young man, kicking around in the shallows of the lake, crouching down to wash off his hands and drying them on a scrap of cloth from his pocket as he stands.

"Hey!" Enya shouts, as a thought comes to her, and the hunter straightens up, head whipping in her direction, "Are you selling?"

At the end of the day, there's any chance that a hunter is trying to get rid of goods about to go bad, if he cannot eat them himself. The hunter raises his eyebrows, listening, and then shakes his head apologetically.

"Fresh out," he says, hands in his pockets, shoulders turned in as he gives her a once over. Enya wonders what it is about her appearance that makes his eyes soften.

"You're welcome to join me for my meal, I have enough to share," he adds, gesturing towards the spit balanced over his campfire.

If I was writing an actual Elder Scrolls story, it would take place a little ways down from Riverwood, across the river from Anise's cabin maybe. But I like the thought of setting it in my own little fantasy world.

~~~

Tis The Damn Season, inspired by a Taylor Swift song of the same name (and a little bit of Dorothea also). I wanted to write a hallmarky-Christmas themes fic but with a little side of chest-hurty goodness.

Shane and Ryan are in their 30s, Ryan has returned to their fictional hometown of Woodvale after leaving for LA 9 years prior, leaving Shane behind. The fic is the story of their bittersweet reunion. The b-movie star and the history teacher in a small town.

"I just wanted to say hi," Shane says, quietly. "I thought, uh, I thought maybe enough time had passed that we could… I don't know."

Ryan swallows hard as he takes it all in. He'd felt it too, the moment he'd set eyes on Shane across the marketplace. That pull in his chest, begging him to move his feet towards the feeling. Not as strong as it had been nine-or-so years ago, but still there nonetheless. Infuriatingly so, Ryan notes.

"I wasn't expecting to see you here," he says, instead of snapping the way he wants to. How dare you sneak up on me like this. How dare you, when you were the first to run away.

"I live here," Shane says, in lieu of an answer, hands tucked into the pockets of his quilted vest.

"How was I supposed to know you were still-" Ryan cuts himself off, sucks in a lungful of icy air, and looks up at Shane, finally getting a good, proper look at him. At the stall he'd been too shell-shocked, too surprised to really take in what he was seeing up close, trying to keep his cool facade. But it's the same face he remembers, just older. More beard, more freckles, more tired.

Shane's eyes narrow at him.

"How were you supposed to know I was still kicking around this ‘dead-end town’? We didn't all dream of making a great escape to the big ol’ city, Ryan."

There's some reunion sex, some late night smoking in Shane's truck and sleeping in until noon just like the old days. And then, some figuring out how to make it work when Ryan eventually has to go back to LA.

Toying with the idea of finishing it for Christmas this year but my writing motivation is nowhere to be found unfortunately. 💔

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adamwatchesmovies · 2 years

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Dark Shadows (2012)

While I didn't enjoy this film, that doesn't mean you won't. No matter what I say, the people involved in this project did it: they actually made a movie. That's something to be applauded. With that established...

Dark Shadows shows promise at first, with tried-and-true but effective “fish out of water” humour. From there, the plot gets progressively unsure of where it wants to go, until it starts throwing stuff at the screen haphazardly. I don’t know if anyone could’ve salvaged a workable film from the woeful screenplay by Seth Grahame-Smith but director Tim Burton doesn’t seem to be trying very hard.

In 1760, Barnabas Collins (Johnny Depp) breaks the heart of his servant, Angelique (Eva Green). After she uses dark magic to kill Barnabas' fiancée (Bella Heathcote) she transform him into a vampire - so that he will outlive anyone he ever loves. Soon after, he is captured by villagers and buried "alive" in a coffin. Escaping from his prison in 1972, Barnabas finds his descendants in financial ruin, his beloved reincarnated as their new nanny (Bella Heathcote as Victoria), and Angelique still alive and still obsessed with him.

After the fact, it’s obvious Barnabas is the film’s main character. While watching, it isn’t so clear. You think Victoria will be a major player but she’s an afterthought with no personality. Most of the character feel like director Tim Burton self-indulging a little by tossing a bone to his favourite performers (Christopher Lee has a minor role which can’t have taken more than a day to shoot) or like inclusions put there just because they had an equivalent in the original 1966 television series. The film lasts nearly two hours. If you cut out Helena Bonham Carter as the Collins family doctor who does very little doctoring, the kinda-sorta misfit son David (Gully McGrath), his ne’er-do-well father (Johnny Lee Miller), the rebellious teenage daughter (Chloë Grace Moretz), the elderly maid (Ray Shirley) and the drunken groundskeeper (Jackie Earle Haley), you probably wouldn’t have more than 40-minutes’ worth of a movie. That’s not much but it’d be tighter, focussed and more enjoyable. None of these people have anything to do, and the less said about Alice Cooper’s cameo as himself, the better.

It feels like a bad soap opera that’s being made-up on the spot. Stuff just happens and sure, sometimes it’s funny but nothing’s building up to anything bigger. Now Dr. Hoffman is seducing Barnabas. Ok? Why? So we can cement that everyone finds Johnny Depp in vampire makeup irresistible? I guess that’s a thing but I don’t really get it.

Then, finally, a facsimile of a plot rears its ugly head. Ah! So the film is about Angelique and Barnabas’ rivalry. Wait. She waited 200 years for him to escape from the box she buried him in and in the meantime, she’s been using her fishing business to drive the Collins out of house and home? What a lame way to use your magic powers. It all builds to a lacklustre conclusion in which people are thrown around by magic. I think we’re supposed to feel upset about doomed romances and people caught between two irreconcilable worlds but so little time has been spent fleshing out the mushy stuff you just don’t care.

As an 18th-century vampire struggling to keep up with “modern” technology and sensibilities, Johnny Depp does well. He delivers all of the film’s best moments and yeah, some of it you’ve seen before but it’s still effective. The costumes, sets and art direction are also quite good so visually, Dark Shadows is pleasant to look at - especially when Eva Green is seducing Barnabas. Just about everything else is cringe-inducing and tone-deaf. Sexy as she may look, Green is terrible in this role and I can’t even blame her. No one shines thanks to the weak screenplay and scatterbrained direction torn between drama, horror and comedy. I nearly completely forgot about Michelle Pfeiffer, which is too bad because her character actually contributes something of value to the story.

The first time I saw Dark Shadows, I didn’t love it but found things to enjoy and gave it a mildly positive review. Re-examining it now, 3 stars seems way too generous. Although never awful, Dark Shadows doesn't give you many reasons to watch it. (April 5, 2019)

#Dark Shadows #movies #films #movie reviews #film reviews #Tim Burton #Seth Grahame-Smith #John August #Johnny Depp #Michelle Pfeiffer #Helena Bonham Carter #Eva Green #Jackie Earle Haley #Jonny Lee Miller #Chloe Grace Moretz #Bella Heathcote #2012 movies #2012 films

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ragingbookdragon · 3 years

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Just Know It Takes It From Me To End This, Darling

Bruce Wayne x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 1.2K Warnings: Angst

Author's Note: First day back done and I am exhausted :') Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She frowned as she held the phone to her ear, sniffing slightly to pull off the “I’m sick” fake; she’d taken the day off too, just so she didn’t have to see him, hopefully it had helped her with her façade. “I’m really sorry about dinner tonight, Bruce. This all just hit me out of nowhere and I’m really not feeling to hot right now.”

His smile was heard even through the phone. “You don’t have to worry about dinner. I’ll come by and drop some off. We could watch some—”

“No!” she panicked. “The last thing you need it to get sick too. Just—just gimme a day or two to get over this and I’ll see you again.”

“Are you sure?” he worried. “It’s not bother to me if I get sick. I want to take care of you, darling. You know when you feel bad, so do I.”

Oh, it tugged at her heart to hear those words. To hear that promise and she smiled tightly. “I’m sure, Bruce.” She coughed a little, hoarsely clearing her throat. “I’ll see you sometime soon. Goodnight Bruce.”

She didn’t wait for his response, pulling the phone from her ear to end the call. Her gaze shifted from the screen to the dark sky outside and a heavy-hearted sigh escaped her as she shoved her phone into her purse and left her apartment, bundling in a coat against the Gotham snow.

***

Another plop sounded from the stone dropping into the water and she propped her chin on her elbow atop the railing, gazing disinterestedly at the ripples. All she wanted to do was crawl into bed but her sheets, no matter how many times she washed them, smelled like his cologne, and the last thing she wanted to do was think about him. It’d been pure luck that Bruce had met her, and unfortunately fallen in love with her. A hopeless romantic more familiar with unrequited loves than anything else being wooed by the biggest playboy in Gotham City.

She sighed again, tossing another stone and someone coughed behind her; she jumped a foot in the air and gasped like a horrible protagonist in a cheap eighty’s movie, spinning to see Gotham’s Dark Knight before her.

Pressing a hand to her chest, she breathed, “Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me, Batman.”

“It’s not safe to be out here alone.” His voice was gruff and quiet.

She shrugged, turning back to the water. “Yeah, well, I needed to think.”

Feeling him beside her, she listened as he asked, “Is something the matter?”

“It’s nothing you should be concerned about, Batman,” she murmured. “Nothing important, at least.”

He watched her. “You’re (Y/N) (L/N). Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend.”

A loathing smile crossed her lips. “For now.”

“You’re going to leave him?”

She shrugged again. “I don’t know if I can. He’s…too sweet for me to bring it up.”

“How so?”

(Y/N) looked over, brows furrowed as she questioned, “Isn’t Bruce your benefactor? Why on earth do you want to know why I want to break up with him?”

Batman merely answered, “Because you seem like you need to talk it out.”

Her eyes darted to the water and all the emotion in her chest started to well up again. “It’s stupid.”

“Try me,” he encouraged. “Is something bothering you in the relationship?”

“No. Bruce he’s…he’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a man. Kind, attentive, funny. It’s just…”

“It’s just?”

(Y/N) met his gaze once more and whispered, “I don’t think I’m what Bruce needs.”

Even Batman seemed confused. “What do you mean?”

She gestured to herself. “I’m not a beautiful model that stars of the cover of the world’s greatest magazines or some super smart influential socialite. I’m a nobody from Gotham City and I feel that one day—” (Y/N) swallowed thickly against the lump in her throat, hand moving up and down in front of her chest as if it’d speak the words for her and pushed out, “One day he’ll wake up and realize there’s more for him than me.”

Letting out a shaky breath, she huffed pitifully, “Hell, I’ve never even been with anyone before Bruce. I was like a fumbling teen virgin the first time we had sex and honestly, I think I hid it well enough, but I’ve never been in a relationship before.”

(Y/N) wiped her face. “I’ve always chased love and tried so hard to be what people want but even then, I always got the whole, ‘I like you, but I just want to be friends’ spiel and just when I thought about giving up on love, Bruce Wayne walks into my life and says he’s in love with me.” She glanced over, voice soft as she whispered, “I dread the day he knows there’s someone better than me. Because I know there is and I feel like if I leave him now, it won’t hurt as bad as it would if it were however long down the line before it happens.”

Her fingers were shaky. “It’s embarrassing, this anxiety and lack of confidence but I’ve never known love like I have with Bruce. It’s everything you read about in those stupid cheesy romance novels, and I love every moment with him.” She shook her head. “But I can’t wait for him to break my heart.”

Batman took it all in, the tears in her eyes and on her cheeks, the fear yet love in her voice, the obvious feelings she had for him, and he smiled, reaching out to take her hand. “I’m not going to break your heart, (Y/N).”

She gaped at him. “Excuse me?”

“I love you, (Y/N).” he thumbed her hand. “And I don’t want a model or another socialite.” Bruce leaned forward and took her chin in his free hand, tipping it up as he murmured, “I want you.”

“I’m dreaming,” she blurted out. “I’ve obviously been hit by a car and am currently in some type of coma dream.”

He snorted. “No, I watched you leave your apartment and come here.”

(Y/N) frowned. “You were watching me?”

“You were faking sickness. I wanted to make sure you were okay,” Bruce replied defensively. “I worry.” She went silent. “Darling?”

“So, all that?” she whispered. “You…you’re not upset?”

“Darling,” Bruce admonished, taking her into his arms, wrapping her in the long Kevlar cape; she pressed her cheek to the bat symbol, his familiar cologne wafting up her nose. “I knew something was bothering you…but I didn’t know it was this that was upsetting you.” He caressed the back of her head. “I’m not upset with you. I was just waiting to see if you were going to voice it.”

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Just horrible anxiety and ill confidence.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, (Y/N),” Bruce said. “If anything, I should be apologizing for not reassuring you sooner.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” He pulled back slightly and gazed at her, and even beneath the cowl, she could tell his eyes were full of love, only because the smile on his face told her so. “Would you like to get dinner with me?”

(Y/N) smiled tearfully. “Yeah…I’d love that.”

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itsdanii · 4 years

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i loved the rejecting and regretting series!! could you do one with akaashi and osamu? thanks again!!

Hey, bub. Thank you so much for requesting. I'm happy that you're loving my works, it makes my heart soft 😭♥️ Here's your request! I hope you have a good day and stay hydrated. Mwah!

Rejecting you and regretting it pt. 5

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: rude behavior (resolved), cursing

a/n: Do read the warnings before you proceed. Warnings have been put there for a reason.

ft. akaashi keiji, osamu miya

Title says it all

Akaashi Keiji

With your grades in literature almost at the brink of destruction, you had to swallow your pride and ask one of your classmates to tutor you

While you're the best in most subject areas, you sucked when it comes to literature

You didn't see the point of studying articles, analyzing literary pieces and using poetic words

But for the sake of graduating, you had to take the subject

But it seemed like the subject hated you just as much as you hated it

And so, one afternoon, you slammed a limited edition book you knew Akaashi, your classmate and your crush, liked on his desk and stared at him with pleading eyes as you begged him to tutor you

At first, he rejected the offer, opting to pat your head before leaving the classroom

But you were persistent

It wasn't long then when he started taking pity on you

All your papers had red marks in them and everytime there was a test, you would stare blankly at your paper and jot down nonsense ideas

At the sight of you in the brink of tears, Akaashi sighed and decided to help, given that you have to focus and not do random stuff during your sessions

And that's how you found yourself in this current situation - hand holding the pen tightly, your eyes focused on the man in front of you instead of the story analysis he's explaining, and your heart beating as if you just finished a 5km run

"Are you even listening?"

You blinked your eyes at him and smiled sheepishly before scratching the back of your head. You knew that a small blush was probably visible on your cheeks now but of course, you had to play it cool.

"Of course," you said with a confident nod. "You were uh, talking about young love."

Akaashi rose an eyebrow at your answer as if challenging you to elaborate.

"The main character was in love with the guy... and the guy doesn't like her? And she-" you paused for a moment and grabbed the book you were reading, eyes scanning between the lines before continuing your probably wrong answer. "She died?"

With a sigh, Akaashi stood up and sat beside you, your elbows pressing against each other as he leaned down to write something on your book.

"Okay, first and foremost, she didn't die. She left. This part here-"

As he continued explaining, you felt yourself getting lost once again. Your eyes scanned over his features, taking notice of how long his lashes were and how flawless his skin was that you were almost tempted to caress it. His scent surrounded you for being too close which tempted you to shut your eyes.

"I like you," you blurted out unconsciously.

The both of you froze as soon as the words escaped your lips, eyes widening and lips parting as you stared at each other with shocked expressions.

Fuck.

Aaashi, who was the first to compose himself, cleared his throat before sitting upright. "Y/n-san, I'm really flattered by your infatuation but you do know that I'm only here to tutor you, right? We agreed to focus. We're supposed to be studying, not flirting with each other."

"I know but..."

"I can't accept your confession, I'm sorry," Akaashi said before sighing. "How about we end this session already? I don't want your mind wandering while I talk here knowing that you're out of focus."

You immediately shook your head no. "It's okay, Keiji. You don't have to like me back, you know? Just let me like you. You can just pretend that nothing happened. I promise I won't do anything that'll make you feel uncomfortable."

Despite your facade, Akaashi knew that you were forcing yourself to act unbothered. It wasn't really hard to figure you out. Like a book, he could read you within seconds and know exactly what you were thinking and how you were feeling, and at this moment, he knew that you were just pretending.

For the sake of not making you feel uncomfortable and guilty, Akaashi nodded before continuing his explanation regarding the story.

Surprisingly, you stayed true to your words. You didn't say anything out of the line nor forced your confession to him. Akaashi admired you for that since most of the girls whom asked him for help from the past were only after his looks and the sake of getting in his pants.

As your session came to an end, you stretched your arms out. You released a breath of relief before smiling at him. "Thank you so much for teaching me, and I'm sorry for taking so much of your time."

You started keeping your things and piling up the books you're going to borrow from the library. Standing up, you gave him a small bow before grabbing your bag. "I'll see you around then?"

Akaashi just nodded and watched as you made your way out of the library, not knowing how hard you were gripping the books you had in your hand.

That night, you cried your eyes out. Sure, at your age, it may seem childish to cry over someone, but this was Akaashi we're talking about.

The Akaashi Keiji.

The one whom you've liked ever since your first year in college. The one you've liked the moment you saw him sleeping inside a nearly empty library, several cups of coffee and littered paper surrounding his table as if he had been studying the whole night. The one who never noticed you but you never failed to notice.

Your Akaashi, or at least in your dreams, he was yours.

You stared at the now empty tub of icecream on your lap and sniffled. Grabbing another roll of tissue, you began to wipe your tears and your runny nose before playing another cliche romance movie to soothe your broken heart.

Your study sessions with Akaashi continued for a couple more weeks but unlike your previous meetings, you weren't as enthusiastic.

You were focused and attentive, but it just wasn't the same. Akaashi noticed how you would try to put a bit of distance between the two of you, how you would avoid looking at him in the eye, and how you avoided touching him.

But what he noticed the most, were your swollen eyes the day after you confessed to him. He knew that there was only a 50% chance that it was because of how you were rejected by him, and yet he felt an immense feeling of regret. The moment he saw you, he realized that he never wanted to see you like that again.

But he didn't know how to approach you. No, you didn't ignore him like the other girls do. You also didn't say any nasty remarks nor talk shit about him.

What you did was pretend as if everything was okay, as if nothing happened. It felt normal... too normal.

And it terrified him.

One time during your break, you slipped a test paper in front of him, a big A+ written on the sheet of paper making Akaashi lift his eyes from the paper towards you.

"You did good," Akashi said with a proud smile.

"Mhm, I guess I did," you said before taking the paper from him. "I wouldn't have gotten this score if it weren't for you though. Thank you."

He shook his head no before leaning back on his chair. "That was all on you. All I did was guide you."

"This might be our last study session."

"What?" Akaashi said as he stared at you with an expression you can't quite decipher.

"I mean... I don't think I need any more help. I feel like I can manage on my own already and I've no one to thank but you." You looked away from him before continuing, "I think it would benefit the two of us if we stop this already. While I'm grateful for you, I don't think that it's good for me anymore. I thought that if I acted like it didn't matter then it wouldn't, but Keiji..."

"No," Akashi said with a shake of his head.

"What do you.."

"I don't want to stop this." Gripping his hair, Akaashi, took in a deep breath before reaching for your hand.

"Y/n, I don't want to go back to how things were before. I don't want to be just your classmate. I'll miss how you would stare off into space and daydream while I'm explaining to you and I'm going to miss how you would make up answers just to prove that you were listening when in fact you weren't. I'm going to miss you, and I know that if we stop this study sessions... I may never get the opportunity to be this close to you again, and I don't like that."

Akaashi squeezed your hand in his and intertwined your fingers. "I like you. I like you so much that it scares me."

"Keiji.. look at me, please," you said softly as you tried to take your hand back.

Feeling your movements, Akaashi tightened his hold on you and shook his head no. "Y/n..."

"I'm not going to leave," you assured him and smiled when he finally let go of your hand.

Akaashi watched as you stood up from your seat and made your way to his side. He was then surprised when you suddenly sat on his lap and wrapped your arms around him.

"Did you really mean what you said?" you asked which made him immediately nod.

"Of course. I really do like you." Akaashi carefully wrapped his arms around your waist, watching for any negative reaction, and pulling you closer when he didn't receive any. "You're sitting on my lap and basically hugging me. Does this mean that you still like me?"

"Of course, Keiji," you said with a smile.

"Then..." Akaashi collected your hair to one side and gently placed his hand on your nape, his eyes traveling down from your eyes to your lips. "Can I kiss you?"

With a simple nod from you, Akaashi pressed his lips against yours.

a/n: yes, you made out in the library. This is Akaashi were talking about and there's no way I wont take the opportunity to make out with him in the library lmao.

Osamu Miya

You were one of the lucky fans of the Miya twins, specifically Osamu's

Why? Because you're Aran Ojiro's sister and that meant that you can freely see your crush any time of the day

The team basically treats you as their own sister

Although it gives you a lot of perks, it also had its disadvantages

Because no matter how much you try hinting your feelings towards a certain Miya, he just won't acknowledge it

In fact, you didn't get along with him

Unlike the rest of the team, Osamu would always pick on you

You actually didn't expect it to happen because you thought that Atsumu was the playful one among them

But boy did Osamu prove you wrong

There weren't any time of the day that you won't pick at each other, spouting remarks here and there until the other gives up

It never went overboard though. You both knew your limits and when to stop

Or at least that's what you thought

Because today, he chose to target the wrong topic

You were currently seated in the middle of the court with the rest of the team. All of you were in the form of a circle with an empty bottle in the middle.

It was Atsumu's idea to play a game of truth or dare before you all go home. According to him, it would be effective on "cooling" off their bodies from the intense practice. Even Kita was forced to participate, thanks to Atsumu's constant whining.

With a wide grin, Atsumu spun the bottle which made most of you take in a deep breath due to the anticipation.

Finally, the bottle stopped. The tip was pointed at you while the other side was pointed towards Atsumu.

"Y/n! How lucky of ya! Truth or dare?" he asked with a wiggle of his brows.

"Truth." You couldn't help but roll your eyes after that, knowing that what's to come will probably be something silly.

Except it wasn't.

"Then... If yer given the chance to date someone from the team, who would it be?" Atsumu asked proudly, giving Osamu a side glance before focusing on you again.

You heard your brother groaning from beside you making you giggle. Placing his arm on top of your head, Aran gave each of the members a glare.

"Hm... I'd probably date 'S-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, Osamu let out a loud chuckle. All eyes snapped to his direction, watching him in confusion.

"Sorry, sorry," Osamu said after composing himself. "Did ya really have to ask that? Of course she'd pick Suna. Haven't ya notice the way she looks at him every practice?"

"Huh?" Suna muttered absentmindedly, his eyes lifting up from his phone towards Osamu.

"Don't even try denying it, y/n. Plus, even if ya try, I know Suna will basically reject ya. I mean, I can't even stand ya. If it were me, I'd reject ya on the spot. Yer annoying and too loud and that thing ya do with yer hand when yer explaining? Super annoying. Ah! And don't ferget the way yer nose scrunches when yer deep in thought," Osamu said without any pause.

Once he was done, he titled his head a bit to the side, trying to peek at your face that was now casted downwards, your hair covering most of your face. "Oh, are ya crying? Did I ruin yer confession?"

To his surprise, there were indeed tears streaming down your cheeks when you lifted your head up. Everyone grew silent, completely shocked at the sight.

"I was going to confess to you, dumbass." With that, you stood up, grabbed your bag and ran out of the gym.

Aran immediately stood up to follow you, but not before throwing a glare to Osamu.

Atsumu, who was the first to break the silence, turned towards his twin. "Okay, I know that I'm dumber among the two of us but that was a real jerk move right there, 'Samu."

Osamu could only stare at the gym doors with shock and regret written on his face.

"You're on the bench until I'm sure that you and y/n-san made up," Kita simply said before standing up. "Game's over. Let's all go home."

The following days, you avoided Osamu like a plague. It even reached the point that you have to eat lunch inside your classroom instead of eating with the team like you usually do.

Even Aran was pissed at Osamu. Aran knew that a playful banter was normal between you and Osamu but never had it ever reached this point.

You were basically crying all night when you arrived home and if not for Aran's patience, you wouldn't have went home in the first place. When you left the gym, your brother found you in a nearby park, your knees up to your chest and your head hidden from view.

He wasn't oblivious about your feelings towards Osamu but he never mentioned about since he wanted you to tell him or any of the members when you're comfortable enough. It was only unfortunate that the moment you felt confident enough to confess, Osamu had to pull that shit on you.

"C'mon, Aran. I need to talk to them," Osamu pleaded as he tried to get pass your brother.

Aran stood firmly infront of your apartment, his arms crossed over his chest and his figure blocking the door. "You really have the audacity to march your way to our apartment after the shit you put my sibling through? What, you got tired of sitting on the bench during matches? Can't impress your fanclub anymore? Go home, Miya."

"I'm sorry, okay? I wanted to apologize to them but they've been avoiding me. This is my last resort." Osamu said and gripped his hair in frustration.

Once he saw a peek of you trying to hide yourself behind a wall, Osamu immediately grabbed the opportunity. "Y/n, I'm sorry! Talk to me, please! I... I don't know what to do anymore. I'm sorry..."

You soften at the pleading voice of Osamu and revealed yourself from behind the wall. Walking over to the door, you placed a hand on Aran's shoulder. "Give us space to talk, please?"

Your brother threw a glance at Osamu and sighed at the determined look on his face. "Alright," he muttered before turning towards you. "Call me if anything happens, alright?"

Upon hearing you hum in agreement, Aran placed a hand on your head to ruffle your hair, chuckling as he heard you whining before he went out.

You invited Osamu inside your apartment, making sure to close the door before settling yourselves on the living room.

"Water?" you asked out of courtesy but Osamu only shook his head no. "Talk then."

Osamu felt an unsettling feeling inside him at your dismissive tone. "I'm sorry," he mumbled.

"I was used to havin' banters with ya that I didn't realize that I was already sayin' too much. I didn't mean to hurt yer feelings, y/n. I know that it may sound ridiculous considerin' how harsh I was to ya but I really didn't mean those words."

You listened attentively to him as he continued to apologize, your tears once again flowing down your cheeks as you remembered everything that happened. "I really like you, 'Samu. I don't even know how or why but I just do and I guess I was hurt, not only because you rejected me but also humiliated me. I don't deserve that," you said and brought your knees up to your chest, clutching the throw blanket as you sobbed.

Osamu was beside you in an instant, his arms enclosing you as he pulled you to his lap. "I know...I know. I'm sorry," he whispered as he rubbed your back soothingly. "I guess I got blinded by jealousy. I thought that ya were going to say Suna's name so I assumed that ya like him."

Wiping your nose with the sleeve of the hoodie you're wearing, you looked up at him with a frown. "Jealousy? I thought you hated me. Why would you even feel jealous?"

"Do I really have to spell it out fer ya?" Seeing you nod, Osamu sighed and pressed your face to his chest in order to hide his flustered cheeks. "I like ya, okay? I always pick on ya because I wanted yer attention. I didn't actually expect ya to fight back but ya did. That's why I was intrigued by ya, and if ya still like m-"

"Yes," you answered without even letting him finish. With your face still buried to his chest, you could hear his heartbeat picking up. You pulled away from the hug and looked up at him, you cheeks still slightly damp from crying.

"Yer not kiddin'?" Osamu asked as he stared at you, his hand reaching up to wipe your cheeks with his thumb.

"I'm not. I'm still a little hurt so you have to make it up to me, but my feelings? They're still here," you answered honestly.

A smile made its way to Osamu's lips upon hearing what you said. Pressing his forehead with yours, he tightened his arms around your waist to hold you closer. "Thank ya fer givin' me another chance, angel."

After making up and stealing kisses here and there, you and Osamu decided to cuddle on the couch, your back against his chest and his arm resting against your waist.

It safe to say that when Aran came back, the most sour expression made its way to his face. It hadn't even been two weeks when he witnessed you literally crying your eyes out and now, he comes back to you sleeping on the couch with the man that made you cry.

"Fuck my life," Aran muttered with a groan.

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

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lyndmilaa · 3 years

Text

- romance movie air

Pairing : irl!Dream x f!Reader (she/her)

Summary : Dream was willing to fuel your standard, even when it comes to dancing.

Tags : Best Friends to Lovers, slow dancing, 100% Fluff

// universe, if you see this, give me a boyfriend

Forcing Dream to listen to you ramble on and on about how a romance movie has influenced your every move, showing him all of the slow dance scenes and all of the all parts of the movie that struck you, caused him to have basically understand the whole movie without even seeing it.

He enjoyed your ‘fangirl-ing’ and excitement, so there was obviously no bother. In fact, Dream was too adjusted to his hopeless romantic best friend.

“We should slow dance.”

The moment Dream heard you jokingly request a dance, he spent all month learning.

His eyes rolling at the decades old video, finding annoyed at banquet etiquette. There were so many rules that it felt like he was stuck in a classroom again.

Meanwhile, Dream also had to ‘deal’ with your sad expressions of ‘love’ in your living room.

“Just one kiss.” You sighed, eyes glued to your phone. “One good movie kiss.”

“Kiss him.” Dream joked, causing you to immediately look up from your phone.

You rolled your eyes and a light smack on Dream’s shoulder while he laughed at you. “I want to kiss someone I’m dating.”

“You’re too picky.”

Which wasn’t wrong. You knew that it was going to be hard to find anyone who meets the horrendous standards that you have. Frustrated, you put your phone down and cover your face in distress.

“Hey.”

Dream’s voice interrupts your dramatic scene. Looking at the boy, you saw a stupid grin on his face.

“What.”

His smile grew wider, you felt there was a sinister plan going on in that head of his. Giving him a suspicious look, Dream’s smile was basically reaching ear to ear.

“Shall we dance?”

You sat up properly to look at Dream in the face. His smile was still on, and you couldn’t help but return the same. “I don’t know how to waltz.” You confessed, only to see Dream’s laughing face.

He stood up with a proud look on his face. “You don’t have to, I already know.” His voice was filled with confidence, as if he’s been planning to say this forever. “Stand up.” He said, on his phone to play the music.

Following his instruction, you were up on your feet. “Shouldn’t we dress up to dance?” You asked, watching Dream hold out his hand.

“This is just our practice.” He noted. Making sure you knew that there was a “next time”.

With his hand held out, Dream looks into your eyes. “May I have this dance?”

Your face flushed red, you gave out your hand and nodded. “You may.” With your hand on his, Dream’s lips touch your knuckles before he put his hands on your waist. You moved your hands up to rest on his shoulders.

“Ready?”

“Dream. I can’t dance.”

A small chuckle escapes his lips. “Then, follow my lead.” His feet start to move and you looked down on the floor to try and match him.

“You have to look at me, not the floor.”

“But I’ll step on your feet.”

“I don’t mind.”

Swaying to the music, you tried your best to keep eye contact with Dream. Blushing in embarrassment every time you accidentally stepped on his feet.

“1. 2. Twist.” Dream whispered, guiding you along. He made sure to not let go of you, mentally thanking the many videos he watched.

The song ended, the two of you bowed together. Dream took a look at your flushed face and laughed. Giving him another light smack on the shoulder, you rolled your eyes. “I’m going to learn how to waltz.”

“I’ll test you.” Dream said smiling at you.

Your face was still red, you watched Dream sit back on the couch. His eyes were still on you and that stupid smile was still on his face.

“Did you feel it? The ‘romance’ in the air?” Dream asked jokingly. “Was your heart racing?”

He wasn’t sure what answer he wanted from you, but he thought it was pretty funny to see your face bright red. Dream’s mind thought about how fun it was to dance with you. To hold you. To move with you.

And just before he knew it, his face was burning up.

“W-Why aren’t you saying anything?” Dream shuttered, trying to play off his burning face.

You smiled at your friend. “There was no point learning this, no one else is going to dance with me.” You said, while finding a seat. “You’re just fueling my fantasy romance again.”

“Again?”

Ignoring Dream’s remark, you slouched on the couch. “Besides, in the movie…” You look away from Dream. “… they kissed after the dance.”

There was a silence in the room. Instant regret filled your brain. What was the point in saying that anyway?! Spirals were basically circling in your brain.

“You want me to kiss you!?” Dream asked, his face was basically a heater at this point.

“N-No!” You said, unable to look at him.

Silence again.

Seconds felt like minutes, the air was basically suffocating you. Looking over to face Dream, you jumped when you saw that he was looking at you with a flustered face.

“You… want me to kiss you?” Dream asked again but in a whisper.

“S… Sure…” You said quietly.

Closing your eyes, you felt the Dream’s movements on the couch, your heart was racing and your face has been hot since the dance. Was this the romantic air?

Dream’s hand lifted your chin, and you felt his lips pressed against yours. Separating, you opened your eyes and saw Dream’s face up close before shutting your eyes to kiss him again.

“I thought you’d only kiss someone you’re dating.”

“Shut up.”

“Does that mean we’re dating?”

Dream showed off his stupid smile once again, his hand still holding up your chin. Giving your lips a small peck, your blush was basically glued to your face.

“Only if we recreate the scene properly.”

“That means you need some serious dance lessons.”

-END-

21:21 ; 071521*

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tooktheladdedgbtq · 3 years

Text

....and the Oscar goes to.. | Tom Holland X Male!actor reader.

A/N: this was just something I wrote because I got inspired I guess. Happy Pride everyone!

——————————————

You couldn’t decide whether time was slipping through your fingers too quickly or if this had been the longest night you’d ever experienced.

seconds slowed to a crawl while you tried to gather yourself before it was your turn to take the stage. You were nervous. Not about being at the oscars or presenting for the first time. Not even about being nominated for your leading role in the second installment of a critically acclaimed trilogy. No, you’d been used to these sorts of things, you’d been an actor since you were a very young kid. Starting on television before film, and you even got to hold the Emmy the show had won when you had just turned a teenager.

No, you were nervous about who exactly you’d be presenting to. Of the five nominees and potential winners, only one could cause such an intensive feeling in your chest. Only one could awaken a sense of dread that battled with a feeling of intensive happiness mixed with anticipation, and it was Tom.

You’d known each other for years and had come to fall in love. You’d met as young co-stars on set and eventually grew into an inseparable friendship that progressed into something far more. Neither of you were sure when the feelings started but it felt like they’d always been there and you weren’t exactly complaining.

Your blissfulness with Tom was beautiful but short lived. After almost a year of being official you both agreed to take a break from the relationship. Unbeknownst to Tom you were just agreeing to save face and hadn’t pried for an answer out of fear of being hurt. You just accepted that this was how things were now, and took a step back.

You’d still kept in contact with him. It was hard not to. He was still your best friend. But whether it was the business of work or something a little more awkward, distance grew between you both as the multi-hour long facetime calls and text threads became once-a-week check-ins to just make sure you were alive and okay.

Time had passed, and you didn’t have a clue what you could possibly say to him now. You certainly didn’t want to ruin his special night. But you’d missed him so much and felt like you would implode at the first sign that he’d be interested in getting back together with you. But you also didn’t want to seem desperate or needy if he’d moved on. You didn’t want to slip and say those three words again in the moment.

Father time showed you no mercy as the sand in his hourglass suddenly shifted from a slow-motion drip to a flood. The seconds you’d spent daydreaming of your past with Tom and pondering about the your potential future had passed and left you with little time to gather yourself before presenting. still you shook your hands, arms, and lastly shoulders, putting all your worries aside and waited for introduction from the host.

Before long you’d been counted in to walking on stage, and heard the host over the microphone. “Ladies and Gentlemen, to present the award and introduce the nominees for Best Supporting Actor, please welcome one of this year’s nominees and one of our generation’s greatest talents: Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

The applause erupts from the audience like a revved up engine as you took center but it was nothing compared to the standing ovation you’d receive later on that night when receiving your own award for Best Actor.

You were stood promptly center staged with the towering Oscar statue reflecting onto the black stage floor beneath your feet. Your outfit was alluring and would surely be the next hot topic which is rare for male stars. You looked like a million bucks. Everyone knew it, most of all, Tom.

You smile and wave as you approach the microphone, your teeth shining a blinding white, and wait for a hush from the crowd.

You chuckle lightly as a few hoots and hollers sound out as the cheers subside.

You eye the monitor across the room and start to read, your nerves dying down as your jokes land and laughter echoes around the room.

As you finish the introduction, clips start to show behind you to accompany the names of the nominees as the cameras catch a glimpse of each of their reactions.

You couldn’t help but notice how tough the competition was as each actor was called. Steven Yuen playing a detective in a thrilling murder mystery. John David Washington in a fictional film playing the world’s first black astronaut aiding in the discovery of lovecraftian horrors. Andrew Garfield for his role as a psychotic narcissist and genius businessman. Oscar Issac acting in a sci fi space opera asking questions of existentialism.

Finally, you had to withhold your smile as you called out the last name. He had returned to his Billy Elliot roots being nominated for his role in a astonishing musical romance film. “Tom Holland.” You’d been ecstatic when he’d told you about it as you’d always recommend he tried it again since it made him so happy in his younger years.

You spot him a few rows from the stage, making eye contact with him and wondering if he was thinking about you the way you had done with him earlier. You couldn’t help but notice him squirming in his chair and fidgeting with his hands. Selfishly asking yourself if this wasn’t just about the award but about having you present it to him.

Seeing you here after what felt like an eternity apart and your reunion potentially being the greatest achievement of both your careers. Making it the greatest night of your lives, that is, if you were still together. But you were still best friends. That’s what mattered. So you push your self centered thoughts aside and shoot him a small wave that he returns with a smile and thumbs up. letting you know he was okay and that you could continue as the camera pans back to you capturing your not so hidden giddiness.

This awarded some small oos and aahs from the crowd as your relationship with him had been a wholly celebrated one. especially among your marvel peers.

You’re handed an envelope and statue as the music ends and the applause dies down and you take one final glare into the camera before beginning to open the envelope.

“....and the Oscar goes to,” you take a peek at the crowd and see some of the nominees holding hands with loved ones. others plainly

awaiting your next words with bated breath. The anticipation shone on everyone’s faces. Even those that weren’t nominated. Your not-so-hidden grin giving away the answer mere milliseconds before his name escaped your lips. “Tom Holland!”

Tom shot up with a shared expression of shock and happiness on his face. Pecking his mother on the cheek as she wipes the tears of pride from her eyes. His best mate Harrison gives him a quick embrace and a pat on the back before he moves on to shake hands with the director and smile at everyone cheering him on as he gradually moves toward the stage still completely baffled at the victory.

As he walks towards you in his pink pastel colored suit and brown leather dress shoes you can’t help but swell with an overwhelming feeling of joy having been here to share this career defining moment with him. You thought about how far you’d both come to get here and almost started tearing up remembering all you’d been through together.

He skipped up the miniature steps and blanketed you with both arms. You didn’t want it to end as you hadn’t felt it in a while. You threw your arms around his neck and he tightens his hold around your torso. Before you could even process them, your blunt thoughts spill out as whispers.

“I’m so incredibly proud of you. you deserve this and so much more.” you hear a small chuckle escape him as he responds. “I am trying not to cry y’know mate?” a wolf whistle comes from the crowd as you apologize for being so sappy and before he can tell you off for it you hand him his award and shove him off toward the microphone.

As he takes center stage you stand off to the side to watch him give his acceptance speech. He pauses and takes a second to gather himself before he starts talking straight from his heart with nothing prepared.

“Um, Wow. I really can’t believe this is really happening and I probably still won’t believe it happened tomorrow. Just.. wow.” his words were filled with that charmingly British accent you’d come to love so much.

“First I would like to thank my mother, without whom of course, I would not be here. I would like to thank the academy and everyone who worked on this movie from the producers and camera men, make-up and costumes, to our wonderful writers, composer, back up dancers and vocalists, and of course my friends, my co-star and the director Damien Chazelle.” whom he gestures to sitting in the second row. “I share this with all of you and I can’t thank you enough for awarding me with the opportunity to create something I love so much.”

He thanks the other nominees before turns towards you to end his speech. you felt your heart in your hands when you saw his big brown puppy eyes dart in your direction with an intensive glare of admiration.

“last but most importantly, I want to thank the inspiration for all of the love songs I sung in the film and the reason I decided to take the role. The person standing here on my right.”

Your jaw drops and your eyes widen when his words hit you like a speeding semi. you realize that he’d just called you his muse in so many words. the inspiration behind the love songs in the film no less. Meaning that with every lovestruck note his character sung he was reminded of you. All that time spent worrying if the distance between you two would cause him to forget about you, or if he’d maybe moved on and found somebody else. But no such thing had happened. He was relating his character’s longing in the film to his longing for you this entire time and that made your heart do a backflip.

You blush and cover your still ajar mouth with your fist whilst trying not to pay attention to the crowd who’s attention was fully focused on you.

He takes a deep sigh before continuing. “Y/N you’re not only the reason I took this role, but you’re the reason I was able to play it with such sincerity. You’ve been a unwavering beacon of support throughout my career in general but here you really gave me the inspiration for something special. He faces the audience again as the all follow his words with whispers of how adorable you both were. “from reading lines together in the middle of the night, to keeping me company when i’m on the brink of a meltdown.” It was all true and it only made you miss you relationship more and you found it difficult to hold back your tears.

“Y/N is the kind of best friend everybody needs, the kind of partner everybody deserves, and the person I’m so incredibly lucky to have known for so long. ..and I still can’t believe he never figured out the lyrics were all about him, It was kind of obvious-” the audience laughed you’re so close to swooning as he turns toward you again. “But, with all my heart, I love you, Y/N. Always will.” you feel as if you’re floating.

He shifts to the crowd one last time to say a final thank you before you both walk off stage one arm around one another’s shoulders. You have a short but sweet conversation backstage with him where reassures you that everything he said on stage was true and completely unscripted. He wants to talk more but knows your category is coming soon so he asks for a later opportunity and you agree before returning to your seat in the crowd.

The rest of the night flew by with you winning the award for best actor and receiving the biggest applause of the night. Tom joined in the standing ovation. You thanked everybody involved in making the film, the academy, and squeezed a little joke directed towards Tom that garnered a shared laugh from both him and the audience. You were the last award of the night and after the celebrations it was time to return to your place, where Tom was waiting for you. Wanting to talk about everything that had happened not just tonight but everything leading up to it. He also hoped you’d kept a spot open in your heart for him to return to.

#tom holland x you #tom holland x male reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland gay imagine #tom holland x male! reader #tom holland fanfiction

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