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aklaustaleteller · 1 month

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On One Condition

Klaus feels bad for messing up Y/n's exam preparation schedule, so he asks her what it is that he can do to 'earn her forgiveness'. Yet somehow, he manages to put up a condition when she asks him to help her with an art project...

Warnings - none, really. Word Count - 1.4k

So, I was rewriting an old fic when I decided to write a little backstory, i.e. this fic, and I hope you guys like it! I'll be posting part two within the next two days so yay!

Update: You can now read part two here!

She was something else, a feisty one who liked a good chase. And Klaus should've noted that from miles away. But he was too deep in now, and he wasn't going to back down until he had her.

He was waiting outside the school to catch Stefan, have a chat with him and warn him against trying to harm him because telling him off meant telling off the entire group, and Klaus found that lovely.

And he had just caught sight of Stefan when he saw her behind him, her hair bun not so tight as hair stands fell out and framed her face. She was walking with another girl who seemed to be trying profusely to convince Y/n of something -- probably a party if Klaus were to guess but he felt himself tuning in when she walked in a closer range to him.

"I really cannot do it, Vicki. Please try to understand that I'm myself giving exams right now," he heard her say, and then saw as she put her hand on her shoulders. There was softness in her voice that he'd never wished previously to be directed at him.

Bringing her in for a hug, Y/n explained herself again, as if she felt bad for denying whatever it was that Vicky wanted. "I would've helped you out had I not missed out on my preparation earlier. I’ve quite literally been studying the night before for each exam." She smiled, with what emotion Klaus couldn't quite see, but he found it beautiful, nonetheless.

"Why don't you ask Elena? I'm sure that way you'll bump into Jeremy a couple times as well," Y/n grinned, passing the squinting brunette a quick wink before turning back towards the exit with a sigh of relief.

Though it only took a couple steps for her to bump into Klaus, not so accidently. She'd seen him the moment she'd gotten out of the gates, and the fact that she had to pass him in order to reach her car only made her feel... more positive, let’s say.

She hadn't gone out of her way to slam into him, but he had. And the only other thing she has to blame is her spiteful walk that led the one library book she'd borrowed to topple out of her grip.

"Klaus, back off," she gritted, quickly picking up her book and moving once he did.

"It's not my fault, you know, that you bumped into me," Klaus said with a lure in his voice that suggested he just wanted to rile her up. "I'd apologize to me," he shrugged, a lopsided grin pulling up on his face when he noticed her turning.

"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but that'd be a cruel and unusual punishment," she bit back, pressing her key to unlock the car.

"Please, save your breath. You'd probably need it to blow up your next date," Klaus teased, remembering the night Klaus had crashed her date and scared off the guy by doing nothing, really.

Sighing, Y/n gripped the steering wheel of her car and closed her eyes for a second. "Say something else and this book will become a lethal weapon," her voice was agitated as she warned him, and when he truly backed away with a proud grin on his face, she finally pulled back and drove home, daring to spare him a glance in her rear-view mirrors, an angry blush creeping up her neck when she caught his eyes.

Once she reached home, she didn't bother to lay out her clothes before jumping into her shower. Still, she buttoned up a loose striped cotton shirt and pulled her underwear up her legs. It didn't take her long to just decide on a pair of pyjama shorts.

After a good bowl of salad for lunch, she brought out her schoolwork to just do it on the porch considering the nice weather. But of course, that was a mistake because soon into her immersive study session, she was disturbed by loud clashing noises coming from the house across hers, Elena's house.

Taking a deep breath, she was just getting up when she caught sight of Damon and Stefan inside the house, speeding towards each other. It was purely for the dramatics, she was sure, considering the fact they wouldn't kill each other, they simply didn't have it in them.

She just felt sorry for Elena's dishes, maybe some of her furniture as well.

Twisting the knob she had just pushed the door in to go back inside the house when she heard a voice behind her. "Too noisy, aren't they?"

Klaus.

"You already messed up my preparation schedule once, Klaus. Do not dare to do it again," she said calmly, though her grip on the knob was probably tighter than normal.

With that, she decided to cross the line and enter her home. Then she turned around to face him, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to mess with her either.

"I came here to apologise, and perhaps, make up for the troubles I've caused you," he admitted, looking at her with such sincere eyes that she could've given in right then.

"And how do you plan on doing that? Plus, if this is a joke, I still have that book with me."

"You tell me what it is that will earn me your forgiveness," he said dramatically, making her look down to hide something from him, maybe a smile.

Opening the door wider, she looked at him and then hesitated a little. "Don't make me regret this," she said. "Come in, please."

Klaus was caught a bit off guard but managed to get inside, his eyes wandering right away to take in her house.

"I'm not sure how to word this really, so I'm just going to say it." Taking a breath, she sat on one of the dining table chairs and urged for him to do so too, getting a little flustered when he took the one right by her side and shifted so that he was turned towards her.

"What is it, love?"

"This might be a little ridiculous for you but it's very serious for me," she told him while maintaining eye contact to make sure he understood the situation.

Klaus simply nodded for her to go on, now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"I know you paint, quite impressively, might I add but that's not the point here," she quickly shut the topic before Klaus could tease her.

"The point is, I have this art project that I said yes to under pressure because my favourite teacher asked me to. But were you to see even my handwriting, you'd know I'm no good at it. The most I can draw is a stick figure and even that's wonky sometimes," she admitted bashfully.

"I used to have a friend who'd do it for me, but she left town last year and now... I don't really have anyone who would," she let out a breath at that, her eyes closed in anticipation of his answer.

"So, you wish for me to help you out with this said art project?"

Sitting stiffly, she nodded.

"Okay then. I'll do it... but what is it?"

"Oh great!" She cheered; happiness evident on her face. "It's supposed to be this super zoomed in image of either a grapefruit, or a pomegranate."

Klaus leaned back in his chair then, sighing as he considered it. "I will do it on one condition," he proposed.

"And that is?"

"You will stay with me in my studio when I'm painting it," he shrugged, as if it wasn't so much a big deal.

"But were you not doing this for my forgiveness?" She narrowed her eyes, but when he began to get off the chair, she struggled for some answer to come out of her mouth before he could leave.

"Okay, okay! I will!" She agreed immediately, sitting back down in defeat when he remained standing, a smile on his face.

"I'll go now." He said, walking backwards towards the door and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. He could've teased her about it but decided against it.

"Come by my house tomorrow, around three or four… your wish," he said before turning to open the door.

He turned back to see her reaction and a smile crept up on his mouth when he saw her smiling back at him.

"I will," she told him while waving him goodbye, stopping just before he sped off with his dead heart beating a mile an hour.

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middleearthpixie · 11 months

Note

Can you please write a fic where Thorin falls in love with a human girl, but he thinks she is disgusted by his looks? 🙏

Hi there, Nonny!! I know it took me forEVER, but here you go and i hope you like it! 💜

The Harp

Summary: You and Thorin are friends, but then you find out his feelings for you run deeper, and he’s holding back because he feels he is not good enough for you.

Pairing: Thorin x fem!Reader (post-sack of Erebor, pre-quest for Erebor)

Warning: None. Just fluffy fluff

Rating: G

Word Count: 4.7k

***

He came into the dining room at the same time each evening and always sat at the same table—the one in the far corner, which was also the darkest corner of the room. He was polite, but kept to himself and you noticed how he always sat with his back to the wall and rarely did his eyes pause from scanning the room.

The other diners eyed him with just as much suspicion but then again, they all eyed each other with suspicion as well. It was second nature to this lot, as they came from all four corners of Middle Earth. No one was actually from Emyn Vanya. No, every warm body had come from somewhere else to this tiny village on the outskirts of everywhere and yet somehow in the middle of nowhere. Some came to start over. Some came to forget. Some came to do both and some were just passing through. But everyone was from somewhere else and almost no one wished to discuss where that somewhere else might be.

You couldn't help but notice him, for he was a dwarf and the Grey Gander did not see many dwarves in their dining room. And not only that, but he was a handsome dwarf, to boot, with black hair, touched here and there with hints of silver, that spilled over his shoulders in a long tangle of curls. His most striking feature was his eyes, however, for they were the most piercing shade of icy blue you’d ever seen. There was a hardness within those pale eyes, one belied by his polite demeanor and deep, if soft, voice.

Night after night, this man came in alone. He sat alone. He spoke to no one other than you when you approached to take his order, just as you did this evening. He was polite, if reserved, and spoke only when absolutely necessary, which was an interesting change from the patrons who grew louder and more opinionated as they dove further and further into their cups.

“Welcome back,” you said with a smile as you approached him. “Might I fetch you a drink to begin?”

“Thank you. A tanked of ale would suit.”

“Of course. And do you know what you’d like or are you still trying to decide?”

He looked up at you with those striking eyes. “The hunter’s stew.”

His order never varied and you were certain you could just bring him a bowl of the stew without asking, which was why you couldn't resist a bit of playing with him. “I think we should start calling that your usual. Perhaps we should change it on the menu itself.”

That earned you one of the dwarf’s rare smiles. “I am not so certain that is necessary.”

“Well, you’ve been in here eight of the last ten nights and have yet to order anything different.” You couldn’t help teasing him. You sensed a hint of sadness in him, one that might explain the hardness in his eyes. And while it was a bit of a risk, teasing this man you didn’t really know, you had to admit, his smile made the risk worthwhile.

“But,” you added, taking your teasing further than you normally did, “you would have to tell me your name first. I certainly cannot ask to rename it Dwarf Stew. That would give the wrong impression, don’t you think?”

A darkness flashed through his eyes and you knew you’d overstepped. Your mind raced as you struggled to come up with something to smooth over his obviously ruffled feathers, knowing your employer would be furious if your flippancy drove away a paying customer. “I mean… that is… I apolo—”

“No,” he interrupted softly, shaking his head, “there is no need to apologize. And you’re right, it would sound odd. So, I suppose then, it would only be fair to tell you my name, wouldn’t it?”

Your heart beat a little faster at that. Perhaps it was but your imagination, but his voice sounded lower than it normally did. Lower and bit growlier. Had he, by any chance, noticed you the way you’d noticed him?

No, that was madness talking. Very few people noticed you aside from being their serving girl. You tended to blend into the background far too easily and since so many people in Emyn Vanya were only passing through, they paid little heed to you.

Still, that didn't stop you from replying, “It would, yes.”

To your surprise, that earned you a laugh. A genuine, honest-to-goodness laugh and one that sent flutters through you as it rolled across the small table in your direction. Like his voice, it was low and silken, and those flutters made you forget your own name for a moment.

“Very well,” he nodded, his eyes meeting and holding yours, “I am Thorin.”

You offered your name in return and added, “It’s wonderful to make your acquaintance, Thorin.”

“And yours as well.”

Heat climbed into your cheeks and you ducked your head, saying, “I will be back in a few moments with your ale,” you hesitated, then added, “Thorin.”

“I will be here.”

Thorin sat back as you darted off and couldn't believe his cheek. What had possessed him to even think to flirt with you? Your interest had to be only because he was a paying customer, because there was no way a woman as beautiful as you could possibly be interested in him.

The first time he stepped into the Grey Gander, he’d noticed you at once, noticed how easily you smiled and joked with the tavern’s patrons. Your laughter was a silvery melody that made everyone turn in your direction and smile even if they had no idea what it was that made you laugh.

He noticed everything about you—from that amazing smile and intoxicating laughter to your beautiful eyes and easy grace with which you moved about the crowded dining room. You never seemed impatience, or irritated, and even when someone gave you a hard time about something, you never lost your temper and somehow managed to defuse the most volatile of situations.

The second night he’d come in, he’d witness such a scene, almost reaching for his sword, propped against the table, when the giant of man actually grabbed you by the arm. He had no doubt he’d have intervened if you needed it, but you didn’t. You smiled at the man as you peeled his fingers from your wrist and very sweetly informed him that if he touched you again, you’d turn him from a rooster to a hen in one fell swoop.

It was at that moment, Thorin lost his heart.

A foolish notion at best, as you would never feel about him the way he did you. Why would you? He was a dwarf. He had no home. He had been in line for a throne, but now supported himself by moving from place to place, taking work where he could find it.

That was what brought him to Emyn Vanya. His trade was blacksmithing and the village needed one. So, there he was, in the dining room of the Grey Gander, admiring you from afar and wishing he stood a chance at winning your hand.

It was just as well, for what did he have to offer you? A king with no kingdom was no better than a pauper, really. Not to mention, he certainly couldn’t compete with the men of Emyn Vanya, who were all taller, slimmer, and far more attractive than he certainly was. You would be a fool to even consider him.

But, he watched you from afar, watched as you moved from table to table, how you brought a beaming smile to the face of an old crone, how you soothed angry children bickering over a toy, how you made a crying infant smile by making silly faces until they could do nothing else.

How you focused on him as if he was the most interesting man in the room and not, for lack of a better phrase, a homely, homeless refugee.

If only…

He sighed as you approached with a tankard in one hand. His heart beat so much faster when you met his gaze. His mouth went as dry as the plains between his lost kingdom of Erebor and the city of Dale after the dragon Smaug torched it from one end to the other.

You set the tankard before him. “Your supper will be ready in but a few minutes, Mr. Thorin.”

Mr. Thorin. He smiled, shaking his head. “No Mister. Thorin is just fine.”

“Oh, well that wouldn’t be proper now, would it?” Your eyes almost sparkled as your easy smile curved your lips. “After all, we only just met.”

“This is true,” he nodded, reaching for the tankard. Then, on impulse, he added, “Perhaps you might join me one evening?”

You looked taken aback and he immediately berated himself silently. You fool! What is wrong with you?

But then you smiled. “I think I would like that. I have an off night tomorrow. Would that work for you?”

He was stunned, not only by your agreement, but by your suggestion. No woman ever approached him that way. He’d always been the one to ask. You were bold and he admired that. So, he nodded. “That would work just fine for me.”

“Wonderful. What time?”

“Half seven?”

“Half seven it is,” you told him. “And I’ll be back in but a moment with your supper.”

****

What were you thinking? How could you just blurt out an invitation to him that way? He must think you a harlot, or a wanton woman for doing so.

But at the same time, as you smoothed a hand along your skirts, you had to admit, you looked so forward to seeing him without having to wait upon him. It was a nice change of pace for you. A break in the monotony of your life that was work, sleep, and more work.

You’d told him where you lived, a rundown little flat above the florist’s shop, and at half eight, when the knock came at the door, you nearly jumped clear out of your skin. Then, laughing at your foolishness, you hurried to the door, before he thought you’d changed your mind and left.

You smiled as you pulled open the door. “You are early.”

“I allowed myself extra time in case I found myself lost. I’m still new to these parts and this town takes a bit of getting used to.”

“If you remember the streets run east and west, and the avenues run north and south, you might fare better.”

He bobbed his head. “I would, but there are three florists on this street alone.”

“It is a very competitive business in Emyn Vanya.”

“So I’ve noticed.”

You hesitated a moment and then stepped aside. “Come in.”

As he stepped over the threshold, you tried not to dwell on how shabby your flat was, with its scratched and scuffed hand-me-down furnishings. After you paid your rent and made certain there was food on the table, there was not much money left for luxuries such as nice furniture. Normally, it didn't trouble you. This was your home and you thought it cozy, if a bit rundown. But, when you tried to see it through Thorin’s eyes?

You saw exactly how awful it must have looked to him. Threadbare sofa. The armchair had a hole in the cushion thanks to a broken spring, which meant that not only was stuffing peeping up from the hole, one received a nasty poke in the backside, should they think to sit there.

And of course, there was that awful water stain in the far corner. You had no idea from where it had come, only that no matter how much you tried to paint over it, it bled through. You’d given up trying when paint fell into the luxury category.

But, he reached up for the frogs at his throat and then whisked his cloak off to drape over his arm. “This is lovely.”

Lovely? You looked about, wondering exactly what he found so lovely about it. “It’s a bit… ah… worn, don't you think?”

“Lived in, is how I would describe it.” He smiled at you. “Homes should be lived in. That is how they become such. Otherwise, they are but houses, flats, nothing more than buildings.”

You looked back at him. “Lived in?”

He nodded. “Lived in.”

Then he looked back at you and for a moment, you were rendered speechless. Did he have any idea whatsoever as to how handsome he truly was? Because if he did, he certainly did not act as if he did.

Of course, you kept that to yourself, especially when that night, a deep friendship was born. You had dinner together on the nights when you weren’t working. You spent off days together, sometimes running errands with each other, sometimes just doing nothing. He had a knack for the acrostics printed in the village newspaper and the two of you spent your share of days or nights looking up which answers you thought would work. It didn't matter. He had quickly become your dearest friend and while you loved that, you’d also begun thinking that perhaps there was a bit more to your relationship than only friendship.

It was too bad he’d never given any indication at all that he saw you as anything more than a friend.

So you stayed quiet. Autumn gave way to winter and the Yule holiday was only a few days off when you made your way to Thorin’s forge at the northern end of town. A bitter cold wind whipped down the narrow alleyway where his shop was located and you didn't have to look to know you were near it. The carved wooden sign identifying the forge creaked on its hooks as it swung in the wind. Through the swirling snow, you could still make out the word etched into the wood.

Blacksmith

Beneath that word, Thorin had carved symbols as well, and when you’d asked, he’d smiled and explained that they were a language called khuzdul, which was his native language, actually. He’d attempted to teach you some of it, and showed nothing but patience as you fumbled over seemingly simple words. Little by little, though, it became easier and left you wishing you had something like that to share with him.

But then you found something. One night, over several goblets of wine, he confessed that he once played the harp, but had lost his when he’d lost his home, but that was all he would say about either the harp or what happened to his home. So, you’d saved a bit of your pay each week and put it aside and then went to the music shop at the far end of town and found what you’d hoped would be a suitable replacement harp. It wasn't a big, grand instrument, as those were far beyond what you could ever hope to afford, but you hoped he’d like it the same. You couldn’t remember the last time you were so excited and impatient to give someone a gift as you were this one, which was why you braved the worsening weather.

So there you were, at the far end of a gray-shingled building with a roof in need of repair, listening to the almost melodic sound of metal striking metal. The closer you drew to his workshop, the warmer the air grew and as you rounded the corner, a blast of heat hit you square in the face. It was a welcome sensation as your cheeks felt quite numb from the cold.

He had his back to you and heat shot through you at the sight of him, shirtless in deference to that blasted heat, the muscles in his back and along his shoulders bulging as he held a piece of iron in one hand, a hammer in the other. The clang rang through you when he brought the hammer slamming against the iron, again and again and you couldn't help but just stare.

Your eyes roamed over his naked back, heavy with obviously well-earned muscle, and inked with black lines of varying sizes that covered his entire shoulder, stretched across his back, and into the opposite shoulder as well. You had no idea what the symbols and lines meant, but they looked very similar to the ones carved into the forge’s sign, so your guess was they were dwarfish runes or words.

The heat in the forge was brutal regardless of how cold it was beyond the walls. Sweat prickled along your back as you stepped closer. You didn't want to startle him. The iron with which he worked began with an orange glow, but slowly, as he pounded it flat, the glow faded and when he set down the hammer and used a pair of tongs to pick up the flattened piece and thrust it into a tub of water, steam actually rose from the tub.

“Thorin?”

He jumped, letting go of the tongs as he spun around and now heat shot up into your cheeks at the naked chest you found yourself staring at. Like his back, his chest was just as broad, with black hair swirled from one nipple to the other and down across his belly. More symbols had been inked across it, meeting with the design on his left shoulder.

“I am so sorry,” you stammered, tearing your eyes from that impressive sight to meet his startled blue eyes, “I was trying not to startle you.”

“What are you doing here?”

You hugged the package close. “I had to go and pick something up and thought while I was out, I’d stop by.” You peered around him, at the iron still resting in the water. “What are you making?”

“A sword.” He reached for the towel draped over the workbench and swept it across his forehead. “You should not be in here. It’s far too dangerous.”

“I will come no closer then. But tell me, who commissioned the sword?”

“No one. It is mine. I work on it when I’ve a bit of free time.”

“Might I see?”

“It’s not even close to being finished.” He came around the bench and stood before you. His black hair was damp at the temples.

“You don't have to stop on my account, you know.” You took a step closer to him, the urge to reach out and touch him so powerful, it nearly overwhelmed you. You wish you had the courage to tell him how you’d come to feel about him, as you’d had when you’d left your flat. You’d left there full of fire and determined to confess your feelings for him, but unfortunately, by the time you reached his forge, that courage evaporated like the water in the tub had.

“It would be rude of me to continue.”

“Not at all. I think it would be fascinating, watching you work.”

His gaze shifted slightly to his left and you followed it to see what he looked at—a heavy dark gray henley lay draped over a chair by his desk. Without thinking, you shifted the package to one arm and reached out to catch him by the upper arm as he stretched for his shirt.

“Wait, don’t,” you said, shaking your head.

“Don’t?”

You nodded. “I—what is this?” You traced your fingertips along the thick black lines curving his shoulder, unable to believe your own brazenness but unable to halt your touch as well.

“It’s my… my… it’s a raven,” he managed, his voice deep and huskier than usual. He cleared his throat. “The symbol of my clan, and my family crest.”

You could not keep yourself from tracing along those lines as little by little, the image of a raven wearing a crown slowly showed itself to you. You’d held back from telling him how you felt for so long, now that the opportunity to perhaps go beyond friendship had presented itself and you were not about to let it slip by. But… you had to be careful. It was a delicate matter and that called for delicate handling. The last thing you wished to do was destroy your friendship with him.

With that, you lowered your hand “It’s lovely.”

“Thank you.”

“This is for you, by the by.” You pressed the package toward him. “I know Yule isn’t for several more days, but when I went to pick this up, I grew far too impatient to wait.”

He stared down at it. “What is it?”

“Well, you have to open it to find out.”

He took the package and slowly unwrapped it and then just stared, his blue eyes growing shiny as he murmured, “How did you know?”

“You told me, silly.” You nudged him with your shoulder. “Remember? We were talking about how my neighbor plays the harpsichord and how awful it sounds and you told me you once played the harp. So, I asked Mr. Trumble if he could find me a harp for you and he did me one better. He made this.”

“He—” those blue eyes met yours, wide and incredulous—“made this?”

You nodded. “He did, indeed.”

He gazed down at the harp, and then back at you. “I—this—this is beautiful. I thank you.”

“There is one condition to it, however.” You nudged him once more. “You must play it for me.”

“Oh, I couldn't now. I’d be far too rusty.”

“Well, once you flake off all the rust.”

“Fair enough.” He offered up a smile brighter than any you’d ever seen from him. “You shouldn’t have done this, though. Save your wages, don’t spend them on me.”

“I didn't mind.” You shrugged as if you spent that kind of money all the time. “And it’s Yule, so it was but a small sacrifice.”

He stepped closer. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me, you know. I will treasure it. And you.”

And with that, he leaned in and to your surprise, pressed his lips to yours. You froze at first, caught by utter surprise, as this was the last thing you’d expected him to do. For one maddening moment, you wondered if perhaps you were just imagining it.

But then, his lips moved softly against yours and your toes actually curled in your sensible boots when he brought his hands up to cup your face, and you knew that this was, in fact, actually happening. And how wonderful it was! The sensations that rippled through you were soft and sweet, the crisp, coarse hair around his mouth tickling at first, but then you found you didn't mind it so much as it was a caress of its own.

Your head did a slow spin, his kiss leaving you lightheaded and when your hands came to rest on those massive upper arms of his, your fingers pressed into muscle that greatly resembled stone of their own accord. You were afraid your weak knees might buckle on you at any moment.

His kiss was slow and sweet, teasing and gentle and when his lips parted and his tongue swept gently along yours, your head spun even faster. A rush of heat swept through you. Your lips tingled. Your heart beat harder and faster and it took every bit of will you had to not melt right into his arms.

When he drew back, his eyes were soft, swirling with an emotion you couldn’t quite place and he seemed as breathless as you were as he murmured, “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time now.”

“What?”

He nodded. “I do and I did and now I just want to do it again.” Then he paused, a hint of sheepishness creeping into his smile, into his eyes, “Unless, of course, you’d rather I didn’t.”

“No, I’d not rather that at all,” you told him, smiling as you curved a hand against his cheek. “In fact, I’d like it very much if you would do it again. And again. And I think you should keep doing, no matter where we might be.”

A low chuckle rumbled up from the depths of his chest. “So, I am not about to send you screaming into the snow?”

“Hardly.”

“Are you certain? I mean,” he rubbed his bearded jaw ruefully, a sheepish smile coming to his lips, “I know people whisper about me and poke fun at me behind my back.”

“They whisper about you because they are fascinated by you. And no one pokes fun at you. I know they think you’re quite an excellent smithy, judging by what I’ve heard. And I won’t even tell you what the women say about you.”

To your surprise, his sheepish smile faded and a darkness came to his eyes. “I can only imagine.”

“Have I said something wrong? I thought I was complimenting you. Do dwarves not like to hear how handsome they are thought to be?”

“Handsome?” He snorted as he shook his head. “That’s kind of you, but I’ve seen my own face and that is not how I’d describe it.”

“Well, perhaps you should but have Mr. Sinclair examine your eyes, for you are not only handsome, but very handsome.”

He stared at you, clearly not believing a word you said. “Thank you, but you are just being kind, as you’ve been since we met.”

“Thorin,” you caught his hands in yours, “I’ve been wishing you’d notice me as more than simply your friend, that you’d kiss me, and perhaps I’ve been too brazen in taking the first step. If you wish me to leave you alone, I will.”

“Leave me alone?” His eyes went wide and he shook his head once more. “No, no, I don’t wish that at all. In fact, I—”

A scarlet flush swept up into his cheeks and he went quiet. You waited for him to continue, your heart hammering away at your ribs. All you wanted was for him to pull you into his arms, to tug you flush against that massive chest, and kiss you until you forgot your name.

“You what?” you asked softly.

“I lied. About the sword.” He smiled then. “It’s for you, actually. For Yule. I meant it to be a surprise.”

“For me? But I don't even know who to wield one.”

“Worry not, for I will teach you. When the weather breaks.”

“You did this for me? You would do that for me?”

He nodded. “I would do anything for you, you know.” His eyes softened then as he smiled. “I love you.”

This was the last thing you ever expected him to say and you could only stare at him for a long moment, as your stupid brain forgot how to process words. The best you could muster was a whispered, “What?”

“I love you. I’ve been wanting to tell you for some time now, but how could I when I thought you would be embarrassed to be courted by me. So, I relegated myself to knowing we would only ever be friends, but now…”

“Embarrassed to be courted by you? Are you mad, Thorin? Are you absolutely and completely mad? Because you would have to be to think any woman alive would be embarrassed to be courted by you.” You shifted to wind your arms about his neck. “And no one has ever made something for me. At least, not something as beautiful as a sword. So, if I didn't already love you in return, I would have most definitely fallen at this moment.”

He smiled. “So, all this time, it would’ve only taken a sword to win your hand?”

“I’m a very simple woman, Thorin. You should know that by now.”

Your heart skipped a beat as he eased his arms about your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leaned closer, his lips just brushing yours as he murmured, “I’ll keep it in mind.”

You tried to think of something witty to reply with, but then his lips met yours once more and rendered words unnecessary.

***

Like it? Love it? Reblog it! Comments are also welcomed!

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketchy-loo6195 @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @msjava1972 @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

#The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fic #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction #AU #Thorin Fic #Is it hot in here?#Romance #Richard Armitage #Thorin x reader #Thorin x you #nonny asks #pixie answers

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

AITA for lying to my friend about having work when I actually don't and therefore cannot hang out with him?

Ok hear me out. So due to a long, complicated string of events, I currently live in my car. Needless to say, I don't have much money, especially not extra money to spend on leisure activities, such as malls, trendy restaurants, etc. I DO have a job, it just doesn't pay well. (My friend is well aware of this.) For example, as of writing this, I currently have $125 from my paycheck left and it needs to last me another week until I get paid again. That money also needs to go towards gas and food. I do not buy any unnecessary items.

I have explained all of this to my friend and have even shown him my money app that shows how much money I have on my card.

Yet, he still constantly asks me to go with him to luxury shops and bougie name brand malls. So I started telling him no.

THEN (and this is the part that makes me feel a little justified in pretending be busy, even though it is a dick move) one day, he asked me if I wanted to go to a flea market with him. I agreed. I like flea markets, and better yet, I can afford them. So he picks me up in his car (this is important, as I'm now trapped in his car and at his mercy as he's essentially kidnapped me) and I notice he's driving the opposite way of the flea market we usually go to. So I ask him and he claims we're going to a DIFFERENT flea market. Until we pull up at the bougie ass mall and I'm like hello? What happened to the flea market? He says he changed his mind and decided to go to the mall anyway. WITHOUT ASKING ME or informing me at all, which was NOT what I agreed to.

Ever since then, I've been saying no when he asks me to hang out, telling him I don't want to end up somewhere I didn't agree to like last time. I usually make up an excuse that I have to work when I actually don't or that I have to do a specific errand or something, since he seems to think that I secretly liked the bougie mall when I explicitly said I didn't and that wasn't what I agreed to.

TL;DR: Friend asked me to go somewhere I didn't want to go, then we agreed to go to a different place and friend drove us to place A without informing me

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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darkromanceenthusiast · 11 months

Text

Gabriel (2014) x reader

I cannot find this characters last name to save my motherfucking life

Contains: Beach scene re-write, reader tries to turn Gabe down because they know they can’t help him but ultimately gives in, might write more idk, cursing, fluff, and brief mentions of a knife, reader is referred to as “wife” but otherwise GN, reader loves him so much, heart hurts.

“What the fuck?Jesus Christ!” You jumped up from the dead sleep and bed as you saw the dark haired man behind you, it took a few seconds for it to click in your mind you knew him.

“Surprise.” He says, an adorable smile on his face, his eyes are bright and happy as he stares up at me.

“Gabe, what the fuck are you doing here? You just can't get into my bed and surprise me?” I say, still freaking out, it had been years since I’ve seen him and now he’s just here.

“Yes, I can. That's what I just did. I just...” he trailed off and I looked over him, he was fidgeting with his hands a bit.

“How did you get here?” I ask, sitting back down on the side of the bed.

“I drove.” He answered simply as if the question was that simple.

“No, I mean, why are you here? How did you find me?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest, he still had that fucking smile on his face, the one that made me want to hug him but I fought it.

“You look amazing. I missed you so much.” He says as he goes to stroke my face, I take a step back and his face looks as if I just kicked a puppy as he tugs on the sleeves of his sweater.

“Gabe, what the fuck? This is so fucking weird...What are you doing?” I ask

“You know, I thought you'd be a little happier to see me.” He answers, clearly upset that my reaction isn’t jumping for joy.

“You just broke into my house and got into bed with me while I was sleeping. Obviously I'm a little scared.” You explained as you paced a bit, how would you explain this to anyone? Does Gabe’s family know where he is?

“You think I'm scary?” His sad voice pulls you from your spiraling thoughts. I sigh and look at him, sitting on my bed with his brown curls poking out from under his red beanie, his blue eyes look scared and worried, I notice the way his sweater is baggy on him and wonder if he’s eating well and I can see his bottom lip trembling and I have to look away.

“No. I'm not...I'm not saying you're scary. I'm just trying to figure out what the fuck is going on.” I answer and he perks up a bit, he stands and comes closer to me, holding out one of his bruised hands.

“Let's go to the beach.” He says, his smile making my heart melt.

“Gabe… I don’t think that’s a good idea.” I said softly. All I knew was Gabe is unpredictable and I hadn’t heard from him in so long. I was scared, this guy tracked me down and who knows what he’s capable of now, we aren’t silly kids anymore.

“I have a plan. I decided on my birthday. There was a bunch of fucking crazy people eating my cake, and a bunch of fat nurses telling me happy birthday as if they gave a shit, and I decided right there that I should be with you. 'Cause that's what families do. You know, normal families, they spend time together and be happy.” He explained with a smile and my heart sank, I wasn’t what this man wanted, I was just what he thought he wanted but I knew I couldn’t actually give him the help or happiness he deserves.

“Gabe, we're not a family. I... I thought you were living at your mom's house.” You said as your mind raced, crazy people eating his cake? Nurses? Then it clicked, Gabe’s family put him in an institution… you remembered his obsessive behavior that started shortly before he disappeared all those years ago.

“No. Shit. I'm getting ahead of myself. We-We gotta go down to the beach.” He said, this time grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the door, you fight with him a bit on it and he gets desperate.

“Gabe, it's freezing cold outside. I'm not gonna go to the beach.” You say, hoping to convince him you didn’t need to leave the house as his grasp tightened.

“No, see, you're getting it all confused. I just started thinking, what would they want me to do? Like what would a normal, boring person do in this situation? So I just started showering and washing all my stuff and smiling all the time... All that shit that they think is important, that makes 'em feel safe, you know? I just started acting like everyone else.” He said, you could see tears starting to form in his eyes, his throat tightened as he talked and you realized if this man cries you’re done for… you just can’t do it… seeing tears running down his cheeks will kill you.

“Gabe...” you whispered, hoping to calm him down.

“Like I'm supposed to act. Like-Like... Like an adult.” He said pleadingly

“What are you talking about?” You asked, your guard lowering a bit,

“And I asked them if I could come home f-for the weekend to surprise you, and they said yes. They said yes, so here I am. Come on, I need to ask you something, but it's gotta be on the beach.” He pleaded and you slowly relented, you let him, it was going okay until there was a sound on the other side of the house and pulled out a large kitchen knife, you felt your heart jump into your throat before it settled in your stomach like a sinking pit.

“Gabe, what the fuck is that?” You asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What? It's... It's just in case.” He said as he turned to you, the knife was gripped in his hand and his eyes looked a bit wild as he gave me a small smile.

“Just in case of what?” I ask, keeping my voice soft,

“In case of this. In case of someone coming… trying to keep us apart. Hey, it's self-defense. It's just protection, you know?” He explained softly and I looked at him concerned, why would he feel he needed self-defense to take me to the beach?

“Gabe, you're not going to be hurt.” I say as I reach slowly for the knife.

“Of course they are!” He raised his voice slightly and jerked the knife away from me, I put my hands up and nodded slowly,

“Fine… okay… let's go to the beach.” I say and he immediately calms down grabbing my hand as he leads me down to the beach, we walk in silence for a while before he speaks,

“You okay? You're freezing.” He says as he pulls off his coat and wraps it around me, I smile to myself softly when he does, I loved Gabe but I knew he needed more than I could ever reliably give him.

“Yeah.” I answered quickly.

“I'm-I'm sorry I had to do all that, but it's gonna be okay. I promise.” He said as we stood near the edge of the water.

“What are you doing? You can't act like this, Gabriel. You can't do this. This isn't okay.” I say, a bit worried about the knife in his pocket.

“You know you're the only one that's allowed to call me that? You and Dad. 'Cause you're the only ones that really love me. Do you know that?” He said, a small smile on his face as he squinted against the sun, his nose crinkling in a way I adored,

“Gabe...” I started, unsure of what to say,

“Do you remember when we got married?” He asked suddenly and I thought back to the summer we were kids, we had met on the beach we were now standing on, he was the cutest boy you had ever seen and my first love… until he disappeared.

“Ofcourse I remember… what about it?” I ask as he takes a small step towards me,

“I've just been having these flashbacks, like déjà vu or whatever, of when we got married. Do you remember? You kissed me on the beach, like where everyone could see.And then I said I love you. I whispered in your ear. Do you remember what you did? You grabbed my hand and pulled me into the ocean. And we went under and I proposed, and you said yes. Do you remember that? It was amazing. See? There it is.” He explains and I can feel the smile on my face of remembering those simpler times with him.

“Yeah….Holy shit.” I say softly,

“They've been... telling me that I'm a piece of shit. That I'm worthless.” He says as he looks off to the side, he’s still fidgeting with his hands as he does,

“Who tells you that?” I ask, genuine concern for him,

“But then I've been thinking about that moment when we got married, and-and I realize, you know, I'm...I'm not worthless. I'm pretty... I'm okay.” He says with a crooked smile, he looks at me with wide eyes,

“Of course you are.” I answer, Gabe has always been a soft guy, when his temper is under control.

“I mean, as long as...As long as I have you, I'm okay. As long as you love me, I'm fine. Yeah, I think I knew even then you were gonna be my wife.” He said and it’s my turn to look at him wide-eyed,

“Gabe, what are you talking about?” I ask as I can feel a cold sweat break out despite the cold weather,

“Shit, wait. Wait, hold on.” He says as he starts digging in his pockets and I start to shake a bit, I can’t handle this, I can’t do this, I can’t break his heart like this… I can’t hurt him.

“No, my... Gabe, what are you talking about?Please don't do this.” I pleaded softly, I prayed he wouldn’t do this to me, that he wouldn’t force me to rip my own heart out to hurt him. I watch as he gets excited as he looks down at the rind in his hand.

“This is how you’re supposed to do it, right?” He says as he takes a step back and gets down on one knee and looks up at me, I’m unsure of if his lips or hands are shaking more.

“No, don't...Don't do this, Gabe. No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” I beg as I feel my chest tighten, I can’t hurt him but I can’t help him.

“(YFN), will you marry me?” He asks, his voice is shaky but overall confident,

“Oh My God.” I cover my mouth with my hand as I stare down at him,

“Like not kid stuff underwater, but-but for real. Aboveground, in front of God and everyone else. I want to be your husband. P-please? Say something?” He says, he begins getting desperate towards the end and all I can do is stare at him,

“Gabe, you're not... I don’t think… I’m not the same person I was five years ago, I-I’ve changed.” I say gently, hoping to talk some sense into him,

“No. No, no, no. No, I just...I just need you.Just you.” He says as he stands, the ring still held out to me as he stares into my eyes and I look away, I can’t bear it. I can’t bear seeing the pain on his face.

“Gabe, No.” I say as tears begin to stream down my face, not being able to hold it in any longer.

“No, don't. Don't, don't, don't. Don't...Don't be like them. Just... Please.I just need...We can live forever.And be happy.” He begged and I sobbed, burying my face in my hands as hot tears dropped down my red face, one of his hands cupped my cheek, wiping away my tears and I push it away.

“No. I ca...I can't help you. You need...You need real help. You need doctors and you need medicine...and you need people who know how to help you. I don't know how to help you.” I explain and he shakes his head and holds the ring out to me again.

“But...But I love you.” He says and I feel as if I might pass out,

“I love you too that’s why I hate that I can’t help you.” I say and tears begin to stream down his face aswell, he is still clutching the ring tightly,

“I'm just...I'm so full of love.I just... I just need you to love me back.” He says softly and I shake slightly,

“I do love you, Gabe.” I say and he looks back up into my eyes,

“Then p-please… just say you’ll marry me… I’ll be good. I’ll be a good husband.” He pleads and my heart sinks lower.

I can’t.

I can’t

But I have too.

I need too.

Who else would love him as much as I do?

Who else wouldn’t just call the fucking cops?

“Gabe… I… fuck… i-if I agree to marry you. If we do this you have to take your meds… you have to continue getting treatment and help…” I say slowly, choosing my words carefully. Gabe nodded as he stepped closer to me.

“I-I swear… I promise… anything for you.” He says eagerly. I nod slowly and hold my hand out to him, he smiles widely and slips the ring on my finger before pulling me in for a kiss. I couldn’t stop myself from pulling him closer. The fabric of his sweater in a death grip between my fingers as I cry into the crook of his neck. I love him, I’m going to help him. It takes a while before we pull apart.

“See? I knew it… We’re going to be so happy.” He says, my face cupped in his hands and I smile softly up at him. We will need to work things out, we will need to call his family and let them know he’s safe and where he is, I’ll also have to plead for him not to be sent back to the mental hospital, but as of right now I’m here on a cold ass beach with the one man I’ve loved since childhood with his ring weighing down my finger as he embrace each-other, all the other problems can wait.

#gabriel 2014 #rory culkin character x reader #rory culkin #gabriel (2014) x reader #rory culkin fanfic #jack thurlow x reader #Charlie Walker x reader #scream 4 #rory culkin x reader

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thebadgerclan · 9 months

Text

Letters

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: You find Aleksander's letters...

Aleksander could feel your anger when he entered your shared rooms. “Y/N?” he called, stepping into his study, where he found you. You were seated at his desk, a thick stack of letters before you. Aleksander recognized them at once, and his heart stopped. You looked at him with a cold smile, and he froze further. “Aleksander,” you said, voice hard. “How wonderful of you to join me. I had planned on a romantic evening for us, but then I stumbled upon these.”

You gestured to the letters, and Aleksander took a stiff step forward. “Why were you going through my things?” he asked, foolishly going on the defensive. You laughed, a frigid, icy sound. “I was looking for wax for a seal,” you explained. “Because I was going to write you a love letter. Imagine my surprise when I found an entire stack of them! From another woman!” “Y/N, I–” “How long, Aleksander? How long have you been carrying on behind my back, and how long were you planning on keeping it from me?”

Aleksander shook his head. “Y/N, please, let me–” “My beloved Aleksander,” you read from one of the letters. “I cannot stop thinking about the way you touched me last night, how your tongue felt on my–” “Enough! Y/N, those letters were from a woman named Luda.” “Oh, Luda, is she? Well, I hope Luda will keep you company, because I’m done.” You stood up, crossing the room and exiting, slamming the door behind you.

Your lover–was he still your lover?--decided to give you a bit of time to cool off before talking to you. Aleksander tried to busy himself by looking over the latest reports sent in from Second Army camps, but all he could think about was you. After only an hour, he found you in your old rooms, rooms that you seldom stayed in anymore. “Y/N,” he said. “Please, let me explain.”

You said nothing, which Aleksander took as an opportunity to speak. “I’m sorry that you found those letters, Y/N. I…I never meant for anyone to find them.” “Is that what you call an apology?” you sniped, standing up and walking over to him. “I find love letters, explicit love letters, to you, from another woman, and all you can say is that you wish I hadn’t found them? Really, Aleksander?”

“Luda is dead!” Aleksadner shouted, and you fell silent. “W-what?” “Luda. Is. Dead, Y/N. She has been dead for nearly 400 years. She was the first person to love me for who I was, not what I was, not what I could do. She didn’t fear me, she didn’t try to use me. She loved me, and I loved her. And it got her killed.” “400 years,” you whispered, and Aleksander nodded.

“She died shortly before I created the Fold. It was my grief that drove me, in part, I think. Y/N, you are the one I love, only you. You, my beautiful, precious girl, I love you. I love you so much that it drives me mad, that I cannot breathe when you aren’t here.” He took your hands, and when you didn’t pull away, Aleksander let himself smile. “Why do you still have them?” you asked, tears pricking at your eyes. “If I’m the only woman you love, why hold on to pieces of another?”

Aleksander hesitated, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “I…do not have an answer for you, Y/N. But believe me, you are it for me, for the rest of my life. I love you.” Why had Aleksander kept the letters? Luda had loved him, yes, and he had loved her. But she was long dead, joining the Making at The Heart of The World before the Unsea had come to be. And he had you, you who loved him, cherished him, adored him.

“I understand if you hate me,” he said. “I kept those letters from you, and if you don’t forgive me, I…” Aleksander trailed off when you cupped his cheek, making him look at you. “I don’t hate you,” you said. “I don’t think I could hate you if I tried. I’m sorry, I overreacted.” “No!” Aleksander replied, resting his hand atop yours on his cheek. “You didn’t. If I found letters from another man, even if he were gone, I would be incensed…. My love, I am so sorry. From here on out, I promise, there will be no secrets between us.”

You smiled, going on your tiptoes to kiss him, making Aleksander smile against your lips. “No secrets,” you agreed, and he took your hand, leading you back to his rooms. Aleksander allowed himself one last look at Luda’s letters before feeding them to the fire, wrapping you in his arms after they were reduced to ash. Aleksander smiled, basking in the warmth he felt in his heart, the feeling that only you could give him. There was one secret he was keeping from you, however, but you would know it soon, when he got down on one knee and asked you to marry him.

#aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x reader #shadow and bone reader insert

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fangirl-writes · 1 year

Text

Dancing in the Street

Willard Hewitt x Fem!Reader; Ren McCormack x Sister!Reader

Warning(s): Just general stuff in the movie. If you’ve seen it you should be fine. Also the reader doesn’t like Ariel so if you like her, sorry.

Request(s):

I lost all these asks trying to answer them so idk what happened I’m sorry.

1) Hi hi hi, I was wondering if you could write a Willard x reader fic from the 2011 footloose? I'm having Miles Teller brain rot and cannot stop thinking about him!! 💕💕✨

2) Can I get a Willard Hewitt x reader where your Rens sister and you guys meet at school then is really impressed you and your brother dance so good at the diner plssss?? I love Willard

3) hi!! i was wondering if you could write something for willard hewitt (footloose 2011)? i can not find a single fanfic for this man so if you could write something with fluff and maybe like best friends to lovers that would be so awesome! thank you so much :)

Notes: Hope you guys are happy. I had to watch the Footloose remake to do this fic. The remake. It’s...not good.

Anyway, first footloose fic! Yay! I hope you like even if it’s ridiculously short.

When you agreed to move down to Bomont with your brother, you didn’t think it would be as shitty as it was.

You’d already lost your mom, you didn’t need the rest of the joy in your life sucked out, but apparently the town was looking to do just that.

No music? No dancing? Are you kidding? Isn’t that against the first amendment or something?

Apparently not, as it seemed this rinky-dink town hadn’t changed its views since the ‘80s.

You worked as a waitress at Starlite and Ren was stuck in a cotton gin. The school hated Ren’s guts and didn’t take too kindly to your “explicit and vulgar display” of band t-shirts. Plus that plus prissy little Ariel Moore made you wanna hurl, even if Ren was infatuated with her for some god-knows reason.

It wasn’t all bad. You helped Ren fix up the yellow bug and he drove you to school every day, not that you had another choice besides maybe walking.

And there was also Willard. The ray of sunshine through the cloud of darkness in all his southern glory.

You guys met him the first day of school and the three of you meshed right away. You told him when Ren was bullshitting him and he explained what all of his crazy phrases meant.

You weren’t sure you were into him “like that” yet, but you’d heard Ren smack him upside the head for commenting on your looks once, which told you enough.

And, lucky for you, Woody’s uncle, Claude, was a pretty rebellious boss.

“Hey, Woody!” Claude said. “Check the door man. Cop still here?”

Ren and you exchanged a glance as Woody went over to the window to watch the cop pull away.

“Five-O getting his move on,” Woody reported. “Whatcha got for me, Uncle Claude?”

Claude reached down below the counter and pulled up a burner CD. “David Banner, bootleg. Don’t get too krunk out there. First sign of the police, I’m gonna pull the plug. I don’t want a fine and you don’t want another ticket.”

“Wait,” Ren said. “You got a ticket for dancing?”

“He got two tickets for dancing,” Woody’s girlfriend answered. “One more and he’s off the team.”

You followed Claude to the back where he had a record player that doubled as a CD player. Your mouth dropped open in awe.

“All right, let’s get this party started,” Claude said.

He flipped some switches that turned on the outside speakers and turned back to you.

“Now, I know you’re new here so I’ll let you go watch this one time,” he said. “But don’t expect me to let you off work just to dance.”

You grinned widely before practically tearing off your apron to follow Ren, Rusty, and Willard outside.

The speakers were like old drive-in speakers that blared in the parking lot and you watched in awe as the previously perceived boring small-town kids danced better than you could.

“Yeah, dude, they- they get into it,” Willard said.

"Hey, you,” a girl said to Ren. “Come on, let’s dance.”

She pulled him out onto the floor and you watched gleefully as he busted a move.

“You dance, Willard?” You asked.

He blushed a little, shaking his head. “Oh, no, no way.”

“Why not?”

He shrugged. “I don’t dance.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Me and my boys are going to push everybody back,” Woody said to Ren over the music, pulling his leather jacket right off his shoulders. “Let me see you and your sister do your city slicker thing.”

Ren jogged over to usher you in with him and you happily obliged.

“Number 24,” Ren said and you nodded.

You both fell into a dance you’d choreographed together back in Boston, moving easily to the beat and doing your “city slicker thing.”

You shared a quick glance, a silent communication, before you both ran up and backflipped off the edge of a blue pickup sitting on the edge of the dance area.

The crowd cheered.

You laughed, falling into freestyle mode with the others as Ren walked over to dance by Ariel (who looked eager to receive the basically lap dance he was offering).

You felt alive for the first time since your mom. You missed dancing.

That was until you spotted Ariel and Ren grinding on each other shamelessly.

“Oh, gross,” you said, turning away and spotting Willard, who was already looking at you.

You flicked your head, gesturing for him to come join you.

He just shook his head and saluted you with his coke cup.

You sighed and walked over to where he was gathered with Woody, his girlfriend, and Rusty.

“Mind if I have a sip of that?” You asked Willard.

“Oh, uh, sure,” he replied, handing you his cup. “That was some pretty good dancing out there.”

“How would you know, you don’t dance,” you joked.

“I got two eyes, don’t I?” He asked, grinning right back at you.

You two were leaned so close you felt his breath on your face. It made your stomach flutter.

“Y/N, I was wondering-”

“You can put on a show for that guy, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna.”

You both looked over to find Ren walking up to the group.

You and Willard leaned away from each other.

Ren’s jaw was so tight you thought he might crack his teeth.

“That guy block your boner?” You joked, referencing a joke Willard made a few days ago.

“Shut up,” he replied, shoving your head away jokingly.

Suddenly, the music cut out and Claude came over the loud speaker. “Attention, Attention. Ariel Moore, will you please come up to the front of the diner, your daddy is here for you.”

The crowd sniggered and laughed as “daddy’s girl” stomped her way up to the diner.

“Show’s over,” she said as she passed your group.

Your face contorted.

“Daddy’s gonna take her out to the woodshed,” Willard said.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“It means she’s in deep shit.”

You bit your lip to keep from laughing.

“Come on, loverboy,” you said, shoving your brother. “Let’s get home before we get picked up by the law at ten o’ one. Oh, and Willard,”

The boy in questioned looked up at you.

“We can finish our conversation tomorrow, okay?”

He smiled. “Yeah, alright,”

You grinned back and turned away from him.

Ren’s eyes narrowed at you. “What was that all about?”

You shrugged. “Nothing. Willard and I were having a conversation while you were feeling up the preacher’s daughter.”

“I was not feeling her up,”

“Oh, please, Ren, the whole parking lot could tell,” You replied, sipping the last of Willard’s drink you’d never given back. “You’re practically throwing yourself at her.”

“I was just dancing,” Ren retorted, pulling open the door to the bug.

“Funny, you never dance like that with me.”

“That’s because-” Ren huffed dramatically. “You know what, this conversation’s over.”

“Oh, I’m sure it is,” you replied, getting in the passenger side. “Can I pick the music?”

“Can you ever pick the music?”

“No?”

“There’s your answer.”

You rolled your eyes as Ren picked “dancing in the dark” by Bruce Springsteen for the ride home.

You turned to look out the window, noticing Willard in the rearview talking to Woody.

You smiled. This town might suck, but Willard makes it more bearable.

#willard hewitt x reader #willard hewitt imagine #footloose imagine #footloose x reader

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frenziedslashers · 1 year

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The Supply Closet:

Warnings: Porn without plot, Rick is a slut, biting, PinV sex, transmasc reader because I say so, but it could be interpreted as just a Fem reader ig, lmk if I need to add anything more! This got a little carried away, it gets sorta sappy at the end.

Pairings: Rick x FTM!Reader

People who wanted tagged: @flufpufpuf @lanamiller @immortal-velociraptor @quicksilversg1rl

A/N: I tried to reread and proofread so I apologize for spelling mistakes! Also, apologies if this is messy, I originally wrote it at 3am and just went through and tried to make sentences flow more. I feel like my writing has been slackin' lately.

Prompt I found and CANNOT stop thinking about: “care to explain what exactly I did that caused you, after ignoring my advances for over two months, to have sex with me in a random supply closet?”

REQUEST INFO || TWD MASTERLIST

Rick had been fighting with himself since the moment he saw you, but the weeks here at the prison only felt so much worse. You helped him any chance you could. Supply runs, guard watch, watching Judith and Carl, with the garden, he couldn't stand how much he liked you. The thought of maybe even loving you. It scared him, yet excited him all at once. It had been so long since he had someone to actually call his own.

Sure, he did have Lori, but that died the moment Shane manipulated her and pulled her from his grasp. She was a victim of his best friend's manipulation, and he knew that. Yet, he still couldn't love her after he realized she didn't love him the same. Their love died the moment the apocalypse started. The moment Shane convinced her that he was dead.

Now, all he could think about was you. How beautiful and contagious your smile was. The way you carried yourself through the crowd of people that inhabited the prison. The way you softly moaned when you stretched your arms above your head. He wanted you so bad, it hurt.

"Rick, mind helping me with something? I was gonna go on a supply run with Beth and Zach, but they've gotta stay back and help Maggie and Glenn with something," you spoke, and he couldn't feel more excited over the offer. Smiling softly towards you while nodding. "Yeah, 'course, just in town?" You nodded, "Yeah, gonna look for some more food and medicine. Maybe we can find you some candy," you winked, and he felt his stomach churn. Fighting to keep his feet still and not step closer to you. "Sounds like a plan, let me go tell Carl where I'm goin' and I'll meet you at the car." You nodded, heading for the vehicle and he parted the other way.

You drove yourself and Rick into the nearest town. Rick's eyes every so often glance over to look over your body. The way you sit slack in the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel, the other sitting on the center console. "You ever driven stick?" he asked, and you raised a brow, glancing at him through your peripherals. Noticing his eyes were on your hand that rested between the both of you.

You smiled softly as you averted your eyes back to the road. "No, never, why?" He shrugged, "Well, most people I knew that drove with just their left hand drove manual. That's why I drive that way," he spoke, trying to keep up a conversation. You chuckled lightly at the comment. "Yeah? I always wanted to learn. Never got the chance to. Even if this apocalypse didn't go down, I still probably would have never learned. Never had the time." He nodded, "I could teach ya, if we ever find a manual." You smiled at his offer, turning to pull up to a building since you had both reached your destination. "I'd love that, Rick," his smile only seemed to grow at that. Watching as you shut off the car and pocketed the keys. The both of you grabbed your weapons before climbing out of the car.

Rick stayed close to your side. Each of you walking in silence for a moment before reaching the back shelves. Scanning over the medical supplies that were left behind. His eyes drifted to your hands when he noticed you reached for a box of condoms to throw into the basket in his hand. Staring down at them with curious eyes. "You seein' someone?" He asked, and he hated that he asked. That shouldn't be any of his business, but he wanted to know.

When he noticed how shocked you looked by his words he nearly regretted asking. "What?" He was preparing for you to yell at him, but he was met with a laugh. "Me? Seeing someone? Rick, you're funny," you chuckled, going back to grabbing bandages and anti-inflammatories. "Maggie asked me to grab some for her and Glenn. Smart on her behalf, I'd hate being pregnant in this day and age." You chuckled, and Rick nodded. "Thought maybe you took a likin' to one of the newcomers," he chuckled, and you sighed. Dropping a handful of supplies into the basket before stepping around the corner to some other shelves. Just gazing over the items for anything good. "Nah, not me. Got my eye on somebody else, anyways," you muttered, briefly looking up to meet his gaze through the shelf with a soft smile, and he just stared.

Rick had no idea how to take what you were saying. He couldn't tell if you were implying that he knew who you were talking about. Or if he was who you were talking about. His heart raced in his chest and his body went numb. "Maybe I could meet this... Person. Make sure they're good enough for ya." You smiled more at his words before continuing your walk down the aisle. "Maybe," you hummed, picking up your pace when you saw some boxes in the corner of the room. Dropping to your knees in order to cut them open with your knife. You could tell they were for restocking and were hopeful it was something useful.

The gasp you let out had Rick racing around the corner. Eyes wide, worried that maybe you saw something that scared you. "Holy shit! Carl is gonna piss himself, look at this!" You shouted, waving him over, and Rick smiled. He loved how much you thought about his kids. Taking a few steps forward in order to meet you on the ground, peering into the box.

He saw a mix of books and comics in one box, and an array of junk food in the next box. "We gotta take these with us, he and I could read some of these books to Judith. Or Beth, I'm sure she'd love to," you added, and Rick nodded, but he didn't say anything. He was too in awe at the thought of you looking over his kids the way you did.

He wasn't even paying attention to you. When you stood his eyes were staring through you, zoned out in thought. You went to say something but lost balance of your footing, falling forward with a sharp inhale. One of your hands reached out to brace yourself on his thigh. The touch definitely worked at ripping him from his thoughts.

He was quick to look down at you. Your eyes shot up to his with a look that screamed 'sorry.' His hands braced himself with the wall beside him to keep the both of you from colliding with the floor. His eyes admired the way you looked knelt before him, your hand squeezing at his thigh, he couldn't take it anymore. He finally, after months of thinking about it, let his mind act out the way that he wanted it to.

You had apologized before, but it was ignored. The Sheriff already pulling you off the floor by your wrists. His expression was nearly blank, unable for you to read. You had no idea what to expect, bracing yourself for the worst. "Rick, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," "Shut up," he muttered before smashing his lips against your own.

You had no idea how you were supposed to act, or what you should even do at that moment. Your hands braced themselves on his chest this time, but you were quick to melt into the kiss. A kiss you had both craved for a long time.

The both of you shuffled back. Rick pushed you towards the closet near the both of you before pushing you inside it. Parting momentarily to make sure it was clear before shoving you inside. Stalking towards you with a look in his eyes that you had never seen before. His eyes danced with a mix of love and adoration.

His hand reached out to run his knuckles over the side of your face lovingly. Blue eyes dart from place to place on your face. "I don't know how I lived without you," he muttered, and you wanted to make fun of his corny line, but he didn't let you.

He was quick to pin you back against the wall inside the tightly spaced closet the moment that door was shut behind the both of you. His body flushed with your own while his lips came crashing down on yours. It was near unbearable with how hot it was. A mix of the Georgia heat and the heat that radiated off both of your bodies. Your hands were quick to work at one another's clothes. "Wanted this for so long," he muttered as his lips trailed down your jaw to your throat. "Me too," you gulped, and that only seemed to make him want you more.

Your head was spinning with how dazed you felt. You couldn't believe any of this was happening. A sharp inhale entered your lungs when he lifted one of your thighs with his hand to grind against you. The moan that left his throat was enough to have you moaning in response. "Rick, please," you muttered, and he nodded, nose tickling against the skin on your neck.

He was fast to unbuckle his belt. His shirt was already unbuttoned and open for your hands to explore - your own shirt pulled over your head and set on the shelf beside your head in case you needed to grab it real quick. Once the buttons of his pants were undone he was pulling them down to his thighs in order to reveal himself. Your own hands working at undoing your own pants, but you weren't quick enough for him. Nothing was fast enough for him. He needed to feel you now.

His hands tugged your pants down your thighs just like his own, and you were about to pull them down further, but he stopped you. Pulling them down for you and grabbing your thighs to hoist you up the moment you kicked them off. Your shoulders ground against the drywall with a hiss. "Rick," you spoke with a groan, but he knew what he was doing. Tossing your ankles over his shoulders with strong hands so he could position himself, blue eyes darting up to meet your own.

Even in the dark you could see the question and worry behind his eye. "Ya sure this is okay? I didn't read the room wrong, did I?" He asked, and you sighed, a little frustrated that he wasn't inside of you already. "Rick, just fuck me before I get bored," "What about the person you have eyes for?" He asked, and you felt your body heat up. "They're pinning me against a wall right now," you spoke, a soft moan leaving your lips when his thumb brushed over your clit, his other hand reaching behind him to fish the condom he snuck into his back pocket out. "Well, ain't they a lucky man," he smirked, and you rolled your eyes, but you couldn't say anything in response since his digit was still rubbing rough circles over your bud. Head falling back with soft sighs and pants. "Rick, please, stop the teasing," you muttered, and he nodded, leaning in to kiss your collarbone after he got the condom unpackaged and rolled onto his dick. "Anything for you, darlin'," he cooed. "But this teasin', it ain't nothin' compared to what I could do. Yer just lucky I want this as bad as you," he snarled in your ear, nipping at the skin beneath it.

You had half the mind to challenge his words, but you didn't. You couldn't wait any longer. Plus, no need to have people think you both died out here when Rick was just pounding you in an appliance store.

Your breathing hitched when he pressed the head of his dick inside you. Tears prick at your eyes. The one that rolled down your cheek as he pushed inside he was quick to kiss away. "Shh, I got ya," he murmured, going slow as he entered you. Rick groaned into your ear as he kissed your shoulder. "Shit, haven't done this in a bit," he chuckled, and you let out a breathy laugh yourself. Your forehead resting on his shoulder. "Don't think I've done it since before all this," You commented, and he laughed lightly. "I'll be sure t'go easy on ya," He commented, and you nodded, kissing the junction of his neck and shoulder. Leaving a small mark on the side of his throat that made him groan.

The moment that you rolled your hips he couldn't help but roll his back. The both of you let out a soft moan at the sensations that sparked through your bodies. "Holy hell," he muttered against your shoulder, and you sighed. "Move."

You didn't have to tell him twice, he was too far into the act to be asking over and over again if what he was doing was all right. He was certain that if you didn't like something, then you would tell him. His hands grab at your thighs in order to get a better angle. Hips thrusting in and out of you while huffs and puffs left his lips. His eyes half-lidded, staring back into yours while he fucked you against the wall of the closet. His knees even wobbled a little from how good you just happened to make him feel. He'd make sure if the both of you did this again - when, you both did this again - you would both be in a bed.

When you asked him to go harder, he was a little hesitant. His eyes looked you over with a questioning gaze to make sure you were serious. The moment you reached to grab the back of his head and slam his lips against yours while growling out "now." He was no longer reluctant. His hips pulled back and snapped at a force that had you sliding further up the wall. Having to cling to him in order to make sure that you wouldn't get too far away from him.

His hips kept up a fast and rough pace. Hitting a spot inside of you that had you seeing stars. Heavy breaths leave both of you at the sensation. "Shit, ya feel heavenly," he moaned, leaning down to press a bruising kiss against your lips again before moving down to suck on your collarbone and the front of your throat a bit more. "God, never thought I'd get ya like this," his accent only seemed thicker in the heat of the moment. Squeezing around him with a moan.

You tugged at his hair again, which only seemed to make his hips fuck into you at an ungodly pace. "Rick, 'm close," you slurred, and he nodded, pulling back up to meet your lips for another kiss. "Jus' let go," He murmured, his hand coming in between the both of you to rub your clit and that was it for you. Snapping the coil in your stomach as it came undone. A cry ripped from your throat that only bled into his mouth. Rick's own hips stuttered while his pace faltered as your walls clenched around him. "Holy hell, handsome, gonna, fuck," He couldn't even finish his sentence before his hips were bucking into you. Fucking you further up the wall with his final thrusts into you. Finally reaching his orgasm, riding it out within you.

His forehead was against yours for a while. Neither of you really knew how long you both were slumped against the wall coming down for your highs. Rick finally pulled himself out of you, both of you cringing at the sensation. “Care to explain what exactly I did that caused you, after ignoring my advances for over two months, to have sex with me in a random supply closet?” you questioned as he put your legs back on the ground. Helping you pull your pants back up after you nearly toppled on top of him. He furrowed his brow at your question, though. "Two months?" He was in disbelief. You hadn't been coming onto him for that long, had you?

You chuckled, fingers reaching forward to pull his boxers and jeans back up his body after he removed the condom. The action made him grunt. "Yeah, ever since I asked you to take night guard with me nearly two months ago. Maggie was right, you are oblivious, idiot." You spoke, leaning forward to press your lips against his. Both of you smiled into the kiss as he held your hips.

"Well," he murmured against your lips, pulling back to kiss your forehead. "Guess Maggies not gonna be the only one receiving condoms this supply run," He added, brushing his knuckles over your cheek. "Cause I gotta make up for those two months and more," he added with a grin, and you felt your body heat up at the comment. Smiling back at the man while wrapping your arms around his neck. "Sounds like a lucky guy," you cooed, and he chuckled, his hands resting on your ass in order to pull you closer. "No, I'm the lucky one," he hummed, leaning back down to kiss you once more.

The both of you eventually parted from one another in the supplies closet. Rick peaking out after you were both fully dressed. "It's clear," he muttered, glancing back at you with a smile that you were happy to return. "Glad to hear it," you cooed, your fingers dancing with his own as the both of you headed back for the supply. Only pulling away to grab the supplies to take back for the car. Each having to make a couple trips back for the boxes and the other supplies you each found.

It wasn't until you were in the drivers seat, and Rick was back in the passenger seat that you noticed the way he was looking at you. Rick had never imagined that he would be with someone as amazing as you. You were smart, strong, you had this power to keep moving no matter how tough times got. He admired you for more than just your looks - those were simply just a plus.

You shifted a little uncomfortable under his gaze. Pulling the keys from your pocket with a sigh. It was a surprise that they had not fallen out during the supply closet fiasco. "What?" you finally blurted, and he only smiled more, shaking his head. "I missed you before I even had you." You furrowed your brows, looking over at him as you started the engine. "What?" You asked again, backing out of the parking spot before heading back for the Prison.

He sighed through his nose, reaching out to grab your hand with a sigh. He brushed his thumb over the skin on your knuckles with a sigh. "I'm not really sure how to explain it. It's just like... Like maybe I knew you before. I knew who I wanted to be with, someone like you, so..." He reached up with his other hand to rub his chin with a small smile. "So even in this fucked up world, I was brought to you." You felt your heart swell in your chest, it nearly ached. Glancing over at Rick again with a cheeky grin. "Rick," you hummed, and he hummed back. "Had anyone ever told you that you have quite a way with words?" He chuckled, pulling your hand up to his lips to give it a kiss. "You'd be the first, darlin'," you smiled. You hoped you'd be the only one he talked to like that from now on, too.

#rick Grimes x reader #rick grimes #the walking dead #rick Grimes smut #twd #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead smut #twd smut

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bobbie-robron · 3 months

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Is rob ever coming back

Simply response? One can only hope.

The long response? I really hope we do get a return of the one and only Robert Jacob Sugden simply because of the vast stories that are just waiting to be told (and completely ignored by the various producers that were and still are in place on the show). Before he was dumped into prison hell:

The very early missing years after Jack kicked him out of the village (you can’t tell me all those years were with that terrible family)

The Jack secret. It was brought up during SSW2016 more of a mechanism to explain Robert’s behavior but other than that? Nada. I need his sister to realize that her father is not this man that should remain on a pedestal but one that did indeed was not perfect and did cause Robert scars that he continues to hold close to the vest

His poor self-view/self worth. This was touched on, on and off, but after reunion 2.0, completely discarded (if 2017 had been done differently… it would have been the perfect time to truly focus on properly). This would undoubtedly have become worse since his many years of incarceration.

Moving forward post-prison:

What the affect of being incarcerated for so many years have had on Robert. If he doesn’t come back with some type of mental health problems (PTSD, anxiety, depression, etc) then it’ll be down to lazy writing and still holding on to the same post-its ideas they were using from before. It was reiterated on and off he couldn’t handle prison but that’s where he landed

Sebastian. Will he even remember him or have been told that Robert was his father (are any of the Sugdens even in contact with him)? What affect will there be reconnecting with him (hopefully with his mother gone never to return)

Aaron. This will be a big component of his story. How will the dynamics play out and what state of mind will they be in when they see each other for the first time and where does it go from there? will Robert actually want to return to the village and dampen any ‘happiness’ Aaron may have now (more interference from Chaddy off screen).

Is there still residual bad feelings with his sister over what happened that last year and her still allowing the stalker/fake nurse to stay in her life

His reactions to BOTH his gran Annie and Liv’s deaths.

I want Robert to have an actual platonic friend or two that he can sound off on (think of how different 2017 would have been if he had been allowed a friend rather than his own self)

Two things I do want to point out. I hope when it is time for Robert to return, the dire duo are on their way out. From what I gather, things are still not great on the show and it really needs fresh blood that will steer it away from plot focus (since late 2016) to one that is character-driven (as it was prior to IM). And another, I hope it’s the devil Ryan Hawley that returns (but that is really up to whether he wants to actually return or do gigs as he has over the last few years). Chemistry cannot be manufactured or forced and we have seen the unfortunate result in those cases. Danny and Ryan had it in droves. If there was a recast, I cannot see it working (it rarely if ever does) or bring me back to the show. Robert!Ryan and Aaron are it for me.

#robron #ask reply

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wildandsmile · 9 months

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𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐈𝐭 𝐎𝐮𝐭. ☆ 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐑𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞r

🗯️ spencer reid x fem! reader, lime, oral(male receiving), im fucking sick and tired of writing this thing i redid it like 20,000 times and it’s just not working out. pls accept this and shut up i never wanna see spencer reid ever again.

spencer reid was a modern day genius. he could explain the pythagorean theorem to a group of second graders and make it make sense. he could riddle off equations and puzzles like it was second nature. he was good at magic tricks and numbers and logistics. the one thing spencer reid was not good at, was women.

you had been a member of the team for two years. two years you had been flirting with him, talking with him, hanging around him, and no matter how subtly or obviously you threw yourself to him, he just couldn’t catch the ball. he was like a dog that didn’t know commands in english. it drove you crazy.

you wanted him so badly, but you didn’t have much time to dwell on that thought as you hustled a tray of drinks through a bustling crowd. you worked a side job for fun as a waitress at a nightclub, however spencer had pointed out that it would be a good opportunity for undercover work. so there you were, in your skimpy uniform, handing drinks around and chatting as you flittered by.

“well well, if it isn’t my favorite slut.” a voice chimed from beside you. you turned, ready to pick a fight, only to be met with the faces of your team. garcia, morgan, reid, hotch, rossi and prentiss sat at a large circle table, an easy going air around them. they all had grins on their faces as you started laughing, setting down the now empty drink tray. “penelope, you cannot do that. i just about punched you.” chuckles sounded out, ringing amongst them. “i didn’t know you worked here.” she said, propping her chin up on her hands. “i usually don’t have many shifts. memorial day is next weekend and the boss needed some extra hands.”

it felt strange to have all of their eyes on you at once. rossi had an easy grin on his lips and had obviously had a few drinks, garcia was smiling and talking to you, prentiss was watching you two talk, morgan and spencer were talking about something on the phone in front of them, and hotch was watching you talk to garcia as well, seeming relaxed for once.

“so. can i get y’all anything to drink?” you asked politely, pulling your pin pad out from the side of your skirt. they exchanged looks around the table, most of them saying no. “can i get.. a sex on the beach please? with no ice.” spencer spoke up. all heads turned towards him. you couldn’t help the smirk that built on your lips as you wrote it down. “what?” he asked, and you giggled. “nothing. just never thought i’d never hear you say the word sex in a non-educational way.”

that cute, innocent little face of his flushed and the others shared a small laugh. “i’ll be right back with that, love.” you shot a playful wink at him as you scooped the tray up and went on your way, going back to the bar to put in the order for those drinks. when you returned no more than ten minutes later, the group was packing up to leave. “hey, what the heck guys?” you set reid’s drink down in front of him without sending a single glance his way, too focused on the way everyone was standing. everyone besides him. “where are y’all going? the nights still young.”

“(y/n), it’s one in the morning. half of us have work tomorrow and the other half of us are on call.” rossi said, and you frowned. “oh.. well. alright then. see y’all on monday.” you said sadly, waving goodbye as they filed out. garcia gave you a quick hug and slipped something in the waistband of your skirt before hurrying off with a little giggle. it wasn’t until you turned around to collect their empty glasses that you realized spencer was still there, sipping gingerly at his drink. “oh, hey spence. gonna keep me company?” you asked playfully, piling their mess onto your tray.

he shrugged. “i guess so.” “well.. this table is for a party of five and up, so.. you can’t sit here. you’ll have to come sit at the bar.” you finished cleaning the table off as spencer stood, taking his drink with him. you lead him to the bar and got him a seat on one of the ends, away from the hoard of drunk college kids you knew he wouldn’t want to be near. you stepped behind the bar and piled the glasses into the sink, rinsing them out and setting them aside to be dried by the girl who did that shit when she got back from her smoke break. when you looked over at spencer, his drink was gone. “another round?” you asked, taking the glass from him.

“uhh.. sure. just one more.” you nodded, turning away before he could see you smile. everything he did was so cute. it felt so strange to see him sitting in this nightclub, with his innocent little face and boyband haircut and nerdy little satchel. you whipped up another sex on the beach and slid it down the counter to him before gathering up your large tray of drinks to make rounds again. “(y/n)— uh, what time do you get off?” you stopped in your tracks, halfway from behind the bar counter. you turned to look at him, being met with hopeful, almost shy eyes. “uh, in like half an hour. why? wanna buy me a drink?”

it didn’t take much for you to fall into that flirty persona of yours. you used it all the time to get bigger tips from drunk men. his face flushed and you smiled, putting your weight into your hip. you didn’t let him get another word in before you walked away, wanting to quickly make rounds and start closing tabs so you wouldn’t have to be there any longer than you needed to.

when you eventually found your way back to the bar, spencer’s drink was empty and there was a girl sitting next to him, chatting him up. you slid behind the counter quietly and watched them out of your peripheral, turning your eavesdropping ears on. spencer was explaining the plot line of star wars in excruciating detail and little ms. malibu barbie was soaking it up like a dehydrated sponge. it made your teeth hurt. there was no way she was gonna saunter in here and take the man you’ve been pining after for two years in the span of two minutes.

you were angrily closing out tabs when your coworker approached you, laying a hand on your shoulder. “hey, my shift starts in like five minutes and i got free time. you can go ahead and clock out.” “perfect, thanks.” you quickly went into the employee break room and collected your things, shoving them haphazardly into your purse before pulling your jacket on. it was cold outside tonight and the crop top and mini skirt combo you had going on wasn’t going to do shit to protect you from the weather. you zipped the jacket up halfway, slung your purse over your shoulder and got to stepping.

you walked out and had crossed almost the entire floor when you saw it. you almost gasped audibly when ms. jiggle jugs leaned in to spencer and kissed him on the cheek. you were shocked. then hurt. then jealous. then mad. at her, at him, you didn’t really know. you stepped out from behind the bar counter and put on your sickeningly sweet customer service smile. “well, my shift is over! i’m out of here. see you around, spencer.” you shot a pointed look to the girl who was practically drooling on the front of her shirt over him. to men, the glance you gave would look like a friendly acknowledgement, but every girl in the world knew that you had just inaudibly told her to get bent and die.

“hey, (y/n)— wait!” you looked over your shoulder to see spencer coming towards you. he caught up with you in a few strides easily, his long legs carrying him around quickly. “let me walk you home.” he said. you raised an eyebrow at him, pushing the door open and stepping into the cold night air. “i can get home on my own.” you said playfully. his face flushed again. you loved making him do that. “it’s no trouble, really. let me walk with you.” you stared at him for a moment, assessing him. trying to understand. you sighed. “fine.” he fell into step with you easily, and it was quiet. neither of you said anything.

“it’s cold out tonight, huh?” he said. you smiled. “yeah, a little bit.” your eyes were flitting over to him before you could think about it. he was looking up at the sky, his breath creating little puffs in the cool air. he looked fascinated. you looked up too. there was an airplane in the sky. you looked back to him. “do you like airplanes?” he looked over at you, surprised. “yes, they’re fascinating.”

he was rambling about them before you could respond. explaining aerodynamics, weight to speed proportion, the engineering behind them, so on and so fourth. you listened, but you didn’t necessarily understand some of it. he was explaining how the first airplanes were designed and why they didn’t work when you arrived to your house. you unlocked your front door and stepped inside, hanging your keys on the little hook.

you looked over your shoulder in curiosity at the lack of footsteps pittering behind you. spencer was standing at the doorway, unsure of himself. you smiled, suppressing a giggle. “you can come in.” he flushed and stepped inside, stuttering a bit. “oh, uh, right. you.. have a nice home.” he wasn’t wrong, it was a nice little home. two bedrooms, a nice sized kitchen, cute living room, a cat tree in said living room where your enormous cat perched. “thank you.” you kicked your shoes off and left them by the couch on your way to go see the king himself.

“hi, asparagus.” you cooed, scratching him behind the ears. you saw spencer tilt his head in your peripheral. “your cats name is asparagus?” “gus for short.” he nodded, pretending like that made any amount of sense. “thanks for walking me home.” “oh, it’s no problem. can i..?” he gestured to the couch. “yeah, go ahead.” he sat on the side with an armrest. “can i get you anything?” you asked, slinking your jacket off and tossing it over the back of the couch.

“no, thank you.” he sat with his hands on his lap, stiff as a board. it reminded you of interrogation. he looked nervous. “well.. what can i do for you then?” you asked. his gaze followed you as you stepped into your kitchen with the intention of getting a snack. “i.. don’t know. maybe we can just talk? i don’t have any other plans for the night.” you giggled. he was so socially inept and yet so good with people. it was crazy.

“fine by me.” snack in hand, you plopped down next to him on the couch. “do you usually stay up late?” you asked. he nodded. “trouble sleeping most of the time.” you nodded. “i get that.” it was quiet as you ate your snack, which consisted of a packet of fruit snacks and a little can of soda. “why do you work two jobs?” you paused, taking your time to chew up the gummies in your mouth. you shrugged. “it’s just fun, i guess. i like being able to interact with people outside of arresting them.” spencer chuckled.

you two sat like that for what felt like hours, asking questions back and forth and talking about mundane topics such as why it had been raining so much recently, how the local shop had started charging more for produce, etc.

“it’s getting late, i should probably head home.” spencer stood, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. “sorry. didn’t mean to keep you up so late.” you stood too, rubbing your hands over your skirt self consciously. “it’s alright! i don’t mind.” you smiled. he blushed. you stood there for a moment, gazing up at him and his cute face. he looked so shy. you opened your mouth to speak when asparagus jumped onto the coffee table and knocked your soda over, spilling it all over the carpet.

“gus! really?” you scolded him, becoming embarrassed. usually gus was well behaved. he must have been jealous of spencer. “i’m so sorry, spence. it didn’t get on your shoes, did it?” he took a step back and you bent over to pick up the can. his breath hitched in his throat as your skirt rode up past your plump thighs, exposing the tiniest bit of red lace underneath. you stood up and turned to face him, confused. “spence? you alright?” he looked away and cleared his throat, taking a step away from you.

“yes. i’m fine. i’ll uh— i can help you clean that.” he said, a blush creeping up onto the tips of his ears. “oh no, it’s fine! i’ve got it.” you rushed off into your kitchen to find some paper towels while spencer stood stiffly in your living room, forcing himself to solve math equations in his head. the sight of you bent over in front of him replayed in his mind over and over again, and no matter how many equations he solved, he couldn’t get his blood flow to change directions. his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides until you returned.

“i’m sorry again.” you kneeled in front of him where the splash was and began soaking up the spilled liquid. you were at it for all of ten seconds before his resolve snapped and you felt gentle, slender fingers hooking under your chin. spencer lifted your face upwards, gazing down at you with a primal look in his eyes.

“(y/n)..” he grumbled, gently pressing his thumb against your bottom lip. you looked up at him with big, curious doe eyes as you parted your lips, letting his thumb slowly slip inside. your tongue collided with the pad of his finger and he sucked in a sharp breath, groaning on the exhale. “shit..”

“spence..” you mumbled against his thumb, pressing a gentle kiss to it as he retracted it. “please.” he whispered in a broken voice, gesturing to the very present boner in his pants, pressing against the fabric angrily, just waiting to be freed and sucked. you nodded. it was so unusual, almost alien for this to be happening, but you couldn’t care. not when you had wanted him for so long. seeing you bend over was one thing, he’d seen you do it multiple times before. but seeing you on your hands and knees in front of him was the breaking point for him. he had thought of you in that exact position so many times, fisted his cock to it, but never did he ever think it would become a reality.

you scooted forward and began working nimbly at his belt, pulling it through the loops of his jeans. you tossed it aside before starting to work on his button and zipper. he stopped you. “no.. no hands.” you flushed, all blood flow and train of thought rushing between your legs. he looked so sexy standing above you with that dark, needy look in his eyes. you leaned forward and grabbed the button loop with your teeth, pulling it free. you then grabbed onto the zipper and pulled it down, successfully freeing his cock from his pants.

“good girl..” he muttered, pushing his boxers down for you. his cock sprang free, nearly hitting you in the face. his tip was pink and oozing precum, he twitched when you got closer. you parted your lips and stuck your tongue out to gently meet with his tip, your saliva mingling with his precum. his eyes stayed trained solely on you, drinking up your appearance. he groaned. “so fucking beautiful..” he was salty, heady. his taste reminded you of brandy and leather, in a good way. in a sexy way. you welcomed about four inches of his length into your mouth before he began treading dangerously close to your uvula, making you start to hesitate. “you got it..”

his hand bundled up your hair in a sloppy hold and held your head still. “relax your throat for me.” you did, and he began thrusting into your mouth, sliding past your uvula and into your throat. you panicked, sucking in a breath and starting to gag. “it’s okay, it’s okay. i’ve got you. i won’t hurt you. just trust me.” he said, affectionately stroking your head. you nodded, teary eyes meeting his. he slowly dragged his twitching length out of your mouth only to slowly place it back in, pushing his tip past your glossy lips and into your warm, waiting mouth.

you whimpered around him and he twitched again. “shit, (y/n)..” he groaned, bracing his hands against the back of your head. he thrusted a few more times before pulling out and instructing you to stand. you were on your feet for barely a full six seconds before he was pushing you down onto the couch and climbing on top of you.

“fuck, spencer.. i like you.” you blurted. he chuckled against your neck, littering it with small kisses and bites. “you don’t mean that..” he said. you frowned. you cupped his face and forced his gaze to meet yours. “yes, i do. i’ve always liked you, spence.” you said softly, gently, as if he was your child and you were explaining why he couldn’t run into the street. “you do?” he asked. an expression of regret washed over his face and he sat up, putting space between you that you didn’t want. “i’m sorry (y/n), i— i don’t know why i.. i shouldn’t have done that.” “no, it’s okay! i want you to. i like it..”

his eyes flicked up to you. “really..? i mean, i like you too! i just didn’t think.. i don’t want to scare you away..” he said, looking at you with nervous lil puppy dog eyes. “no, spence.. it’s alright..” you gently grabbed his wrist and guided his hand to your core, spreading your legs open and gently pressing his fingers against your panties. “i want you.”

if he once had any self control left over, he didn’t anymore. he growled and covered your body with his instantly, smashing his lips against yours and grinding his erection onto you. you whimpered into his mouth and he greedily swallowed it, muffling your noises. he brought his hand up to your face, cupping your cheek and trailing his fingers down your jawline, collarbone, and between your breasts.

“so beautiful..” he whispered, pressing messy kisses to your cheek and neck. “wanted you for so long.” you sighed dreamily, slightly pulling at his hair. “so take me.”

and take him, you did.

#spencer #spencer reid #lime #criminal minds #i hate this #ineverwanttodothisagain #fanfic #x reader #fantasy #fantasizeaboutitallthetimeifyouweremine #i’dgivethispussytoyou9-5 #5-9

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osc-confessions · 1 year

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i ship lairy more than any other hfjone ship, but i feel like i can't be open about it because of the notion that it's proship. i'm NOT a proshipper. to me, proship is all the reprehensible types of ship, the illegal kinds, not just... an unhealthy dynamic between two unrelated consenting adults.

exploring unhealthy relationship dynamics is fascinating. i'm not promoting them by any means, but i find them interesting. it's more fun to think about how they'd play out over a well-adjusted couple.

airy isn't violent, he's not evil, he's just a guy who's been alone for 10 years with nothing to do but run one. i don't think he's even fully aware of the harm he's causing. he even takes care of liam while he's there, like he's a guest.

i think it would be interesting to see liam eventually convince him that what he's been doing is wrong. i want him to be guilty. i want him to atone for what he's done.

and then i want him to heal and develop an attachment to the only other person he's seen in 10 years. even unrequited works for me. i just think that scenario is infinitely more interesting than any other ship in the series.

(pls tag as "tw lairy" for the comfort of others) -🥀

Hi, um... This ask was made before I (Fractal) took over as a mod, and imposed some new guidelines, so my response here will be explaining why I won't accept asks like this in the future.

I understand what you're saying about how "proship" as a term is pretty vague, and how it might mean different things to different people. I think that's part of reason the term gained popularity in the first place - people wanted a term to describe horrible things such as rape, pedophilia, or incest, in a way that didn't sound as bad. And "pro" "ship" is broad enough that it covers not only those sorts of things, but also any sort of ship, technically speaking.

Liam x Airy is something that I do consider a proship. Their unhealthy dynamic is a direct result of how Airy kidnapped Liam and severely traumatized him, to the point where his quest to stop Airy from doing the same thing to others drove the plot of the second season. While this is interesting from a writing perspective, genuinely exploring a romantic relationship between the two sickens me for this reason. Even if you don't believe Airy was abusive, he was definitely neglectful, and Liam was traumatized by his actions nonetheless.

(Unfortunately I cannot find the original post above, but I did have this image saved of it.)

Airy can and should atone for his actions, but the notion of a relationship between the two isn't something I'd ever want to put Liam through. It being "infinitely more interesting than any other ship in the series" doesn't exactly hold as an argument either when you consider most other hfjone ships are also unhealthy. Liam x Bryce is a good example, though I won't get into that on this post.

So yeah... tldr, this will hopefully be the last Liam x Airy related post on the blog! Anyone who submits this in the future will either be ignored, or responded to similarly. Thank you for your time.

#osc confession #anonymous #hfjone #hfjone liam #hfjone airy #hfjone liam x airy #tw hfjone liam x airy #lairy #tw lairy #tw proship #tw abuse #mod fractal

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stitchthesewords · 2 years

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Do not worry dear anon I will keep your identity a secret. In the future, you can always hit the Anonymous Ask button at the bottom right hand of the screen before you hit send and it will hide your identity from the recipient blog and posters!

Ronan loves working for his museum! He wasn't the one who started it, but he treats it like his baby nonetheless. He really cares about the work he is doing and wants to make sure that people are informed about life in the before times. A lot of his work is sort of mundane and repetitive but he likes it that way. There are other museums in the city he's in and he usually works alongside them - for example there is a museum that documents a lot of the history of Immortal Wizards and he is well acquainted with their curators. And yes! Ronan and Strofaris have worked together multiple times - in fact the story starts because Strofaris has come to lend Ronan a few items for his collection and ask him to accompany him out into the wilds. They have a professional and working relationship at the start of things that...devolves, shall we say. Strofaris isn't the only Immortal Wizard Ronan works with however - there is a group of 4 of them that watch over his city and he works far closer with them than any other immortals in the region. Many of his artifacts that were not fished out of ruins are on loan from Immortal Wizards' collections.

Ronan's favorite artifacts are often the most mundane - journals, diaries, and collections of writing. He loves to know about everyday life more than 'important people', because it paints a far clearer image of what life was like for everyone. His least favorite artifacts are big and bulky items, or magical one. Big items are harder to fit into exhibit spaces, though it can be done and is done fairly regularly; Immortal Wizards use donating to museums as a way to be showy, so he often gets annoying pieces from them. Magical items are annoying because their magic has to be contained somehow. In this story, humans begin evolving to have a magic 'node' - some of them [Like Yori] have activated ones, some have deactivated ones [which may activate later on in life or never activate], and some had 'dead' ones [Like ronan] which cannot activate. The way you figure it out is if you can feel magic or interact with magic in any capacity - Ronan can't at all, but for obvious reasons a museum guest who can would be detrimental for both their museum experience and the artifact's longevity. Ronan does also keep objects for study through the local university or independent scientists and arcane academics.

SO let me talk a bit about the apocalypse to sort of explain this. The apocalypse occurs sometime between 2030-2050. The earth's inherent magic awakens one day to start defending itself from destruction - namely in this case things like climate change and environmental destruction. This magic does two things - the first is that it creates monsters who are born with an inherent want for human life. This is because humans are the ones causing the large scale destruction the earth is trying to defend itself from. These monsters range in size from about the scale of a chicken to about the size of a semi-truck. They aren't impossible to kill; in fact, the smaller ones are fairly easy, like low level fantasy monsters, but they come in huge waves and droves, tearing through cities. The rural area see less overall destruction from them but they still see pretty heavy loss. This is obviously a very dark time for humanity. HOWEVER, within the same time frame, though a little bit after the monsters start to appear, something else happens. Regular everyday humans begin to wake up with uncontrollable magic powers. This does not go well. Many of them are maimed or killed by their own magic, or hurt others/cause more destruction to the area they're in. Imagine if you woke up one day with the ability to create *endless* magic but no ability to control what it did or turn it off. That is basically what happens to the Immortal Wizards. The other thing this magic gives them is immortality from old age - but only old age. They can still die from sickness, damage, being murdered, etc etc. They just kind of stop aging, because the earth wanted to create a group of people who could keep some of humanity from dying - humans are still important to the ecosystem after all. Eventually the Immortal Wizards who survive their first little bit with magic move away from civilizations and group up, and they teach themselves to control it through force. Either they learn to control it or die trying. At the same time, the vestiges of humanity are starting to build shelters and safehouses because I do not believe that humanity as a whole would go lone wolf. I fully believe that in an apocalypse scenario humanity would band together and help each other survive. These shelters are built with their weakest members in mind, to help them be able to escape the monsters outside. Many of these forts of safety would go on to become the first cities of the new world, including the one Ronan lives in, and begin taking on Immortal Wizards as they came back to civilization in order to aid their fellow man with their newly controlled magic powers. The time between the gaining of the magic and the control is at LEAST a few years if not a decade, and in that time many Immortal Wizards shed their 'previous lives' for new, Wizardy identities. I have an entire pinboard of Immortal Wizard fashion ideas because they dress like funky little creatures and most of them fully embrace the whole 'wizard' thing.

So on that note - Apprentices can't become Immortal Wizards for two reasons: 1. they were not gifted immortality and are completely different kind of magic users and 2. Their magic nodes limit what they can do. I think its important to not the Immortal Wizards have no limits on their magic - they're like Gandalf. The thing with all powerful magical beings is that you can't use them as a tactical nuke in your story even if you want to because that eliminates the tension. Many of the Immortal Wizards fear using their magic willy nilly because they remember how it hurt them/other people. There are laws in place about what they are allowed to do within their society, though some obviously live on the outskirts of it like Strofaris. Becoming an Immortal Wizard was traumatic for all of them in some way, shape, or form, and you can really see the memory of that in how they guard their magic. Apprentices don't really have much trauma with their magic, and generally are limited to certain kinds of magic/weaker magic overall. The Nodes within people also drain with use and need to be recharged with rest - Immortal Wizards don't have that issue. It is, however, incredibly common for Immortal Wizards to take on apprentices - while their magic skills don't translate 1:1 into how humans do their magic, its a close enough experience that they can help guide them. It is a huge deal to be taken on by an IW however - most people who do magic learn in school or from other human magicians. Being taken on by an IW is the equivalent of like, a VIP experience. It usually means that you show a lot of prowess with your magical node OR that your family has been friends with an IW for generations and they have a fondness for you. Over the centuries, IWs have also gotten better about explaining magic to humans, as they learned from having multiple apprentices how to explain the differences between their magic and human magic. If you're wondering, Strofaris took on Yori because Yori travelled all the way to his home and demanded Strofaris take them on. I love Yori. They are my beloved little gremlin and they have a bunny familiar.

Strofaris does have many IW friends and acquaintances. Networking is a pretty big deal in IW society, even for someone like Strofaris who mostly keeps to himself. He doesn't see them very often - for many IWs who live alone or away from cities, the only time they really see other Immortal Wizards is during society meetings and balls [There is one big ball that happens once a decade, which to an Immortal Wizard is the equivalent of it happening once a year] that pretty much everyone from one region attends. One of the Immortal Wizards that Strofaris keeps in close contact with is the person living inside the Memphis Pyramid [NOT the one in Egypt - google Bass Pro Pyramid to see what I mean]. He does not, however, go out of his way to talk to them outside of things like academic interest and apprenticeships. Strofaris much prefers the company of humans.

#RS Project #My Original Stuff #Thank you for asking me about this I literally love this story SO much #I could talk about it forever #Asks

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