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osachiyo · 1 year ago

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"Mark me. Mark me so everyone knows who I belong to." | gojo satoru

⊹ pairing. . . gojo x fem!reader

⊹ cw. . . nsfw content (mdni), jealousy, biting, marking, face-slapping, hair pulling, oral (m receiving), light masochism, dom!reader, 1.5k words etc

not proofread so don’t come at me if there’s errors and I hope u enjoy !

⊹ event details & m.list

"woa− baby, feelin' feisty, are we?" satoru laughed as you shoved him against the wall as soon as you entered your apartment. "what was that? she was clearly flirting with you, 'toru!" you grit your teeth, trapping him further as you pressed yourself against him. now, he could easily get out of your hold and pin you around instead but− he wanted to see what you'd do− how far you'd go.

"ooh your muscles are s'big, mister!" you mocked in an obnoxious tone, rolling your eyes at the memory of the annoying lady who was very obviously feeling your husband up at the store. satoru only snickered, about to wrap an arm around your waist when you slapped it away− pinning it against the wall next to him. "no. you can't touch me," you scoffed, smirking at the way his face fell. "but babyyyy− what'd i do, huuh?" he whined, gasping when you unbuckle his belt and let his pants fall down his muscular legs. you quickly grabbed the belt and started to tie his wrists together− now, he could easily break out of your pathetic attempt at keeping him still− but even he couldn't deny how his cock strained against his underwear at the fiery look in your eyes. you looked like you wanted to ruin him and god did it make him stifle a groan.

it felt like hours since you've been edging him now− to him at least. you two had moved to the bed, with him being tied to the bedpost— you had all the power. his cock was throbbing in need, precum melting on your tongue as you suckle on it before taking him fully in your mouth− a nasty mixture of your saliva and his pre dripping down your chin and hands in stringy webs and it was fuckin' filthy. but god did it make his thighs clench when you looked up at him with those pretty eyes of yours− smirking devilishly before spitting on his cock and running your tongue up and down his slit. your hands were massaging his balls− which were swollen and tight from the need to just fucking cum. but you wouldn't dare not having some fun before actually letting him cum. he was drooling at his point, hips bucking up to meet your welcoming mouth as his eyes shut closed. fuck, this was absolute torture but why was he enjoying this so much? the way your pretty nails raked down his strong thighs to the way your gentle lips swallowed his cock− staining the sensitive flesh with your lipstick.

"god, satoru. you look like a mess already," you giggled, kissing the tip of his cock affectionately before taking him in your mouth again. he laughed− the sound breaking into a garbled moan as you dip your head further down to lick at his balls. as much as you liked satoru like this− at your mercy while you gave him the best head of his life− you couldn't deny the ache between your own legs, now getting too much for you to bear.

satoru groaned as you finally got your mouth off his cock− which was still throbbing with the need to cum. he watched as you sat across from him, legs spread and putting your soaked pussy on full view for him. and he felt borderline feral as you dipped a finger inside your folds before pulling them out− showing your boyfriend the sticky substance left on your digits. "mm, look at how wet you've made me 'toru," you slurred, needy eyes peering up at him as your glossy lips curved up. he only have a strained smirk in return, the sweat dripping down his body making him look almost ethereal. "shiit− baby, you're fuckin' soaked f'me, eh?" he gloated, piercing blue eyes holding nothing but mischief as he eyed your form. "why don't'cha lemme eat that sweet pussy of yours, hm? clean up the mess between your thighs?" satoru could almost feel his cock throb at the mere thought of tasting your cunt− licking his soft lips as if that would make you give in.

you only grinned in response, fingers circling that pretty little clit as you pretended to think about his offer. "hmm, don't know 'toru.." you hummed, tapping the pads of your fingers on your clit one, two, three times before crawling to your boyfriend. "want a taste, pretty boy?" holding your fingers up to his mouth, you giggled as he stuck his tongue out− lips twitching upwards to reveal a wolfish grin. he hummed when you finally stuck your fingers in his mouth− his eyes closing from the taste of your sweet cunt melting on his tongue. "can't get enough of that pretty pussy, sweet girl," he groaned, cock twitching from your taste. "though," he continued, pretty eyes staring up at your own, "you're anything but sweet right now, baby."

satoru was fighting the unbelievable urge to just snap out of his restraints− drool gathering in his mouth as his jaw clenched. you were straddling him now, circling the tip of his aching cock against your slit, coating him in your essence. "wanna go inside, baby? wanna feel this pussy 'round you?" you snickered− fingers tangling themselves in his hair before tugging hard. he moaned at the pain, hips bucking up to almost slip inside of you but alas, he failed. it was a pathetic sight, really− the gojo satoru underneath you, at your mercy.

once you finally, finally sunk down on his awaiting cunt, pussy engulfing him so fucking nicely he could practically see stars− and you barely even started. satoru's head would've been rolling back if it weren't for the tight grip you had on his snowy hair− lips parting in a silent moan as you started to bounce on his dick. his crystalline eyes travelled between your own to your bouncing breasts− fuck, did you look beautiful.

your hands moved from his hair to his muscular back and shoulders− nails digging into the smooth flesh as you bit down on his neck, making him suck in a breath, the pain felt so fucking good. holy shit, did you turn him into a fucking masochist?

all thoughts left his head when you clamped down on him, pussy sucking him in so damn greedily as you moaned his name. one of your hands flew from his back to cup and play with your breasts− eyes shutting closed as you bite on your bottom lip. you looked like a goddess to him right now− jumping on dick never looked so graceful, but you somehow managed to leave him stunned every time.

and in the heat of the moment, he thrusted up into you without thinking— making you gasp and moan loudly as your hips come to a halt. satoru only let out a frustrated groan at this, grumbling for you to keep going and— ‘slap!’ his eyes widened upon feeling a hot sting on the right cheek.

did you just fucking slap him?

“you forgetting who’s in charge here, satoru?” you spit, hooking your fingers under his jaw. “sorry, fuck— sorry, baby” he moaned,nails digging into the palms of his hands as you grind your hips.

“yeah? why don’t I mark you as mine, huh?” you groaned, lashes fluttering as you felt him twitch inside you.

“fuuck! yeah— yes, shit— please,” he felt himself drooling as you raked your nails down even deeper on his back— a little further and you’d draw blood, he thinks. “oh fuck yeah— mark me, mark me so everyone knows who the fuck I belong to!—“

you resumed your bouncing, ass slapping against his pelvis as you whimpered. your thighs were starting to hurt— you knew you couldn’t last much longer and you had to make him cum. now.

and as if right on cue— “shitshitshit—!!” satoru’s head fell back against the bed frame, cursing loudly as you still your movements, feeling his warm release filling you up.

panting, you slowly got up from his lap, hearing satoru hiss at the loss of warmth. “god, satoru. didn’t know you could be such a submissive lit—!” your eyes widened at the sound of leather ripping, whipping your head around to see your boyfriend rolling his shoulders.

he smirked at you, eyes turning from a crystal blue to a much darker colour. “you had your fun baby, and I must admit, you did better than I thought you would,” he started walking towards you with confident steps as if he didn’t get ridden to oblivion just a few minutes ago.

the next thing you knew, he had you pinned against the bed this time— thick fingers dipping between your legs to prod at your soaked cunt. “and I can’t have my girl not having the same amount of pleasure I had,” he continued, snickering at the lewd squelching sounds coming from between your legs. “toru, it’s fine I—“ “nuh-uh, sweetheart. you’ve played your game, and now it’s my turn.”

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated ♡

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loveandpeaceanddoughnuts · 3 months ago

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Levi x Scout!Reader - oneshot hurt/comfort, use of y/n, minor injury

Levi reaches out in half-sleep to pull you close and jolts fully awake when he doesn’t feel your body in the bed beside him. His heart pounds and he breathes deep, trying to shake off the burst of adrenaline. The sheets on your side are cold- you’ve been gone a while.

He slips out of bed, wrapping his coat around him as he lights the closest lamp. “How many times have I told them not to do this shit?” He grumbles, more to remind himself that you’re okay, that this has happened before, than out of any real anger.

And it has happened before- you stealing away to suffer alone rather than let someone else, even your partner, see you hurt. You’re not in the rest of the quarters, not in the hallway when he sticks his scowling face out the door to check.

“Fuck’s sake.” Levi shoves on his boots and heads straight for the training grounds, grimly confident that he’ll find you there.

You’re sweating under the pale moon, launching attacks at a sparring dummy that’s seen better days. Your knuckles are split- you didn’t bother to wrap them before starting to swing. A nightmare drove you here and you’re deep in your mind, seeing the faces of enemy soldiers on the worn, straw-stuffed head of the dummy.

The face before you is suddenly replaced with Levi’s, and you just barely manage to pull the next punch before it lands squarely on his clenched jaw. You still clip him on the chin and he takes it, his head snapping to the side, sleep-tousled fringe falling across his eyes.

“Hey, y/n. Rough night?” He deadpans.

You’re panting, breathless with exertion and the shock of him sneaking up on you. “Take a wild guess.”

He doesn’t answer, just looks down at your bloody knuckles and frowns. “Seriously?” He catches your wrists before you can pull away and turns your hands over, inspecting them in a tense silence. “Tch. Even shitty cadets don’t train barehanded.” You yank your hands away as he continues. “You know better. You wanted to hurt, is that it?”

“You weren’t there. You didn’t see their faces, Levi, it was my fault!” He steps closer, cautiously, like he thinks you might bolt.

His voice is quieter but still firm. “Then hit me.”

“What?” It knocks a bit of the fight from you, and you lower your fists warily.

“You’re right, I wasn’t there. But you’re on my squad, I gave the order. You're just a soldier following commands. Hurt me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Your voice cracks.

“I’m not.” He’s right in front of you now and he tugs his jacket open, exposing his chest to you and the empty field. “You wanna lash out, go ahead.” He spreads his arms like an invitation.

Your eyes sting with frustrated tears and you turn away so he doesn’t see them fall. “Fuck you, Levi. You know I can’t.”

“Y/n, look at me.” You shake your head, refusing to meet his gaze. His hand cups your cheek to bring you back. Levi’s eyes, still bleary with sleep, are softer now. “You don’t have to carry this alone anymore. Why didn’t you wake me?”

You can’t answer, afraid that if you open your mouth you’ll only be able to sob. The bright, guilty rage that had driven you out here was beginning to fade, but the shame it left behind was a different pain. A pain Levi knew well. He doesn’t ask you again.

Instead he gathers you into his arms as you cry, strong hands stroking your hair, your cheek against his steady heartbeat. Levi carries you gently back into the barracks, back into your room, into safety and the dim glow of lamplight.

He hushes the apology you begin, thumbs the tears from your cheeks without comment. He only lets you go when your shuddered breaths have smoothed back to normal, the worst of it over.

Levi disentangles himself from you with a murmured reassurance that he'll be back soon. He returns bearing two steaming mugs and an armful of bandages, disinfectant, and...cleaning supplies?

He rolls his eyes at your confused look. "You got blood on my jacket, brat. Can't let the stain set." He won't bother with his clothes, though, until he's finished gingerly cleaning your bloody knuckles and wrapping them in clean bandages.

You wince into your tea as he works, trying hard not to show more weakness in front of him. Especially not pain from wounds you caused yourself. Levi notices, and without adjusting his scowl he presses a quick kiss to your hands before wrapping the last layer. "Stop that."

"Hm?"

"Stop beating yourself up. The world fucks us badly enough. It doesn't need your help." He turns away to start scrubbing at the bloodstained jacket. "And I need to sleep through a night without worrying that you've run off to do something idiotic."

The hint of a smile creeps onto your face. "You worry about me?"

Levi's gray eyes narrow. "Of course I do. What kind of a question is that?" He pokes your forehead. "Or is there only room to think about yourself in that stupid head of yours?"

"I love you too, Levi."

He reddens and looks away. "Yeah, well. Next time wake me up."

"Promise."

#levi x reader #hurt/comfort #angst with comfort #scout!reader #levi ackerman #levi aot #snk levi #aot x reader #aot #snk x reader #oneshot #levi fluff #levi angst #levi x you #aot levi #levi x y/n #y/n

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zablife · 2 years ago

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Favorite Ex

Summary: When Carmy’s stress and anxiety rise to unprecedented levels, he shuts down and pushes you away. However, you can’t stop thinking about each other.

Author’s Note: Inspired by Maisie Peter’s song “Favourite Ex" and lines from S1, E5 which I've italicized.

Warnings: language, mention of fire, angst, break up, fluffy ending

Shades of orange consumed Carmy’s vision, searing heat hitting his face, neck and arms as flames rose dangerously high from the burners. His hands should have reached for the fire extinguisher instead of remaining by his side, arm hairs singing to oblivion. In that moment he wasn’t sure if he was unable or unwilling to guide himself, but he was well aware it wasn’t normal, this lack of concern for his own well being. As black smoke collected around him, the shifting light danced in his darkened pupils, but he wasn’t present, his thoughts were far away with you.

———————-

The light flickered above the kitchen sink as he watched you fill the coffee pot, the need for caffeine growing after days of getting up before five every day this week. “Carmy, did you pay the electric bill?” you demanded with a huff. You were always short with him recently and he knew he was letting you down, but the days at the restaurant were wearing on him.

Turning back to blow smoke out the window, he rubbed his eyes, trying to recall which bills he’d been able to take care of this month.

“Are you listening to me? They’re gonna cut you off again. I told you last week about the notice,” you said, reaching for the stack of papers piled high on the counter. Unable to find what you were looking for in the chaos, you gave up, placing your fingertips to your temples. “Look, Carmy, I know you wanted me to move here permanently, but I think that was just the grief talking.”

Carm grimaced as he flicked the cigarette butt out the window. “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean, you needed someone here with you after Mikey—“ you began, but he cut you off, jumping up from the window and pushing past you to stalk down the hall.

“Don’t do that!” you warned him.

“What?” he muttered as he kept walking.

“That thing you do where you walk away and don’t talk to me for days. I can’t stand it!”

He turned on his heel, facing you with clenched jaw. “Well, what the fuck am I supposed to say when you tell me you’re here out of pity.”

You furrowed your brow at his accusation. “That’s not what I said. I want to be here, but not if you won’t talk to me about what’s going on with you. You just shut me out and I need more!” You’d finally said what had been on your mind for weeks now, too afraid to voice your own needs when your boyfriend was struggling with major life changes.

“Well, I can’t do that,” he shouted. His words were so harsh it felt like a stab to the back. You’d been there for him since he got the call about Mikey and sat with him night after night when he had horrific nightmares, waking covered in sweat, but unwilling to say a word about them.

“Do you know how many people need me right now? Syd and Tina are at each other’s throats, Richie’s always starting shit and Sugar’s calling me twenty times a day about meetings and talking to Ma. I don’t need this from you too. I can’t do this!” he said, body suddenly going deathly still, eyes fixing on a water stain on the wall just as the lights went out.

Observing his rigid posture, you knew he’d shut down. It was how he coped with stress and even though you hated it, you had to accept that you weren’t going to get any more out of him today. You wiped a tear from your cheek as you nodded to yourself.

“Okay, Carmy. I’m gonna give you some space then,” you conceded, leaving him in the darkened hallway. He listened to the front door slam behind you as he rested his forehead against the adjacent doorway, knowing he’d fucked it all up and hating himself more than he already did.

——————————

“Carmy! Carmy!” A voice shouted, breaking through his haze and urging him to act. “Fire, chef!” Sweeps warned, moving up to take charge of the blaze. Carm finally moved back, shaking his head as though he were just realizing what was happening. Grabbing the fire extinguisher from the other man’s hands he pulled the pin and aimed the nozzle at the flames lapping at the stove, watching as a thick spurt of white foam issued forth. The fire died out with a sizzle and Carm breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Yo, Jeff, what happened?” Tina asked, popping her head around the corner.

“Fire’s out,” Sweeps declared, hauling the extinguisher off swiftly. Carmy turned to Tina, snapping back into work mode and asked, “Sorry, everything's fine. Did you finish your prep?”

“Yeah, you alright?” she said with concern, glancing up and down his disheveled form.

“I need to go take care of something,” he mumbled, heading for the alley.

————————-

Your phone rang and you immediately reached to silence it, stopping when you noticed Carm’s number flash on the screen. It had been three months since you’d spoken and you wondered if you should even answer. He’d made it clear that a relationship was not what he wanted right now and you had made peace with that….until now. You had to admit you missed him.

Your best nights had been with Carmy, listening to music in his tiny kitchen as you cooked together. You could still feel the warmth of his hands on your hips as he checked the progress of the sauce over your shoulder. “More garlic,” he’d say with authority.

“Fuck your one star, I’m the chef tonight,” you always told him. His smirk told you he was pleased with your assertiveness, happy not to have make any decisions for the night. However, your need to take charge caused your worst fights as well. You wanted Carm to talk about Mikey and the more you pushed, the more he retreated from you. He said you didn’t understand, but you cared deeply, wanting to help him through his grief. Simply wanting to take care for him if only he'd let you.

The buzzing from your phone continued and you finally decided to pick up, more eager than you should have been to hear his voice again. You cleared your throat anxiously before answering with a shaky, “Carmy?”

“Y/n? Sorry, I know it’s late,” he apologized.

“S’okay. What’s going on?” you asked, trying to sound casual as you picked at your pajama bottoms nervously.

“We had a fire at the restaurant today,” he began.

“Oh, my God, Carm, are you okay?” you blurted, worried about how calm he sounded despite what he’d just told you.

“Yeah, yeah. It was just a grease fire, you know? But the point is, I realized something. I was watching it and I had a minute where I thought—If I don’t do anything, this place will burn down and all my anxiety will go away with it,” he sighed heavily and your heart nearly broke at the sound, listening to him open up to you in a way you knew was difficult for him.

“And then I put the fire out,” he finished. “I snapped out of it and I realized I’ve been avoiding a lot of things….I’ve been avoiding you because I didn’t think I could handle it all. Like I was waiting for Mikey to come back and fix all the fucked up shit he left, but I’m done with that. I want live my life for me.”

You nodded into the phone, lip trembling as you replied, “I’m glad to hear you say that.”

“I haven’t slept without you. I’ve cried for weeks. Nothing feels right without you, but I’m going to start making some changes around here and I hope you’ll come back,” he said, swallowing harshly as he awaited your answer.

You searched the ceiling, wanting to say yes right away, but knowing how Carmy’s mood could change on a dime. “That sounds really good so let’s start with dinner first, ok?” you asked.

“Yeah, of course,” he rushed out, relieved to hear you would see him again. “You free Thursday?”

“Thursday? Sure,” you agreed.

Then you heard him breathe into the phone as though he was letting out an anxious breath. “You still like chicken piccata?” he asked and you smiled, knowing he remembered your favorite.

“Only if you let me help make the sauce,” you countered. “Fucking one star,” you quipped. You heard him laugh and it warmed your heart.

You liked the thought of calling him that again instead of your ex. He was your favorite ex, but that wasn't really a consolation. You hoped things were changing for the better, but only time would tell.

#The Bear fanfic #The Bear imagine #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #carmy x reader #Carmy x y/n #Carmy x you #carmy berzatto fanfiction

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cassiebones · 3 months ago

Note

Tears of frustration about being too exhausted to manage their hair, so display of trust to wash/brush/braid hair + forehead kiss as a cherry on top? Take from that what you want 🤘

@imyouraziraphale also asked for this one

She hadn't gotten out of bed in days. Rio watched her, folded into a burrito of blankets, her hair a tangled mess on her head. The first few days of inactivity were due to fever. Her cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes staring blankly ahead whenever they opened after bouts of sleep, the only sounds passing between her lips the moans and groans of a body in discomfort. Rio had taken her temperature, tried to get her to loosen the blankets so that she could cool herself a little, but Agatha's fingers were icy as they clutched the blankets closer, her entire body shaking, her teeth chattering.

Rio gave her socks and gloves instead, made ice to run along her lips and forehead, pressed kisses there to soothe the chill. She sang songs to her in spanish, fed her hot soup so that she would at least have something in her stomach even if she barfed it up later on - which she did.

It had taken three days for Agatha's fever to finally break. Three days of being bundled in the blankets, force fed so that she didn't starve, practically carried to the bathroom so she didn't make a mess of the bed. Rio was happy to do it, though. It was so rare for Agatha to need her - or anybody, really - like this that she cherished every moment. She even tried to get Agatha to take a bath on the third day, but she refused to leave the comfort of the blanket burrito, still shivering with cold. Even the promised of a steaming hot bath couldn't coax her out.

So Rio washed the few parts of her thats she was willing to stick out of her blankets, dipping a washcloth into hot water, washing her legs and feet, her arms and between her fingers, her neck and behind her ears...but her hair and the majority of her abdomen stay unwashed.

She had hoped that, when the fever broke, Agatha would be more willing to leave the bed, to shed her blanket cocoon and follow Rio into the bathtub, but the fever had now broken four days ago and Agatha was still refusing to move.

She no longer shivered, but those blankets were still wrapped tightly around her, now covering her hair, as well. Her hair ,that was long and wild at the best of times, now clumped with knots that were going to soon grow into mats if she didn't do something.

"Agatha," Rio whispered, kneeling next to the bed so that she could meet sleepy blue eyes. "Babe, you have to get up now. You need a bath. Or a shower. Something."

"Leave me 'lone," Agatha moaned, shutting her eyes tight and pulling those blankets even more tightly around her body. Rio bit back a groan, now frustrated by her wife's childish behavior. Agatha rarely got sick, but when she did, it was almost always like this - though not quite as bad.

"I can't," Rio said, standing. She slipped her arms under Agatha, scooping her up and only smirking a little bit when the other woman let out a tiny yelp, glaring at Rio over the edge of her blankets. She gave her a gentle smile as she easily carried Agatha into the bathroom, setting her down on the closed toilet, still surrounded in her security blankets. "You are starting to smell," Rio said. "These blankets are going to fuse with your skin soon enough and it will be very painful to get them off of you. Not to mention the rat's nest your hair is going to be turning into soon." She took a deep breath, crouching in front of Agatha to look her in the eye. "Let me help you, my love. Please."

Agatha glared at her for a long moment before visibly loosening her hold on the blankets, letting them fall slack around her. Rio gave her a grateful smile, unwrapping her like a present as the bathtub next to them began to fill with steaming hot water.

Agatha's clothes were covered in sweat stains. It was just a t-shirt and shorts, but it was all she had worn since she got sick. Rio made quick work of ridding her of them, slipping the shirt over her head and flicking it toward the bathroom door. Then she kneeled, reaching for the waistband of Agatha's shorts. Agatha didn't resist, though her face flushed a bit as Rio wrinkled her nose, the ripe scent of unchanged clothes hitting her nostrils.

"Sorry," Agatha murmured. "I should have...I don't know why..." Her eyes filled with tears. Rio abandoned the shorts and reached up to cup Agatha's cheek, swiping a tear from her cheekbone.

"Don't apologize," she whispered. "Never apologize. Not for this. You weren't feeling well. You didn't have control of your body, of your reactions. It's understandable."

"But, I-"

"No buts," Rio said, pressing a finger to her lips to quiet her. "It's okay. I'm here. I've got you. Okay?" She searched Agatha's eyes, waiting for the other woman to nod.

When she did, Rio continued pulling down her shorts, pulling down her underwear with them, tossing them in the same direction as the shirt. Then she stood again, lifting Agatha easily once again and turning to lower her into the bath. Agatha let out a soft sigh as she settled against the warm porcelain, the cloudy water reaching up to her chest. She let herself sink a little, until her knees were poking out of the water, her hair floating a bit as it soaked.

She peered up at Rio as the other woman slipped out of her sweatpants, then leaned forward as she stepped into the water behind Agatha, allowing Agatha to rest her cheek against one of Rio's knees as she settled on the edge of the tub. Rio's fingers immediately began to play with Agatha's knotted hair, scratching her scalp as she worked her fingers between the knots, loosening as many as possible before she reached for a comb.

"This might hurt," she warned Agatha, softly, before starting the brush at the ends of Agatha's hair, combing out the last two inches before moving up, slowly. Every time she hit a snag, Agatha hissed in pain and Rio stroked her hair, soothingly. She had always loved playing with Agatha's hair, had loved brushing it, stroking it, running her fingers through the wavy locks and curls. And Agatha loved having her hair played with - but only by Rio.

The act of brushing and washing her hair was so intimate for them. More intimate than sex, even. Rio worked the knots in Agatha's hair loose until she could run the brush down the entire length of it, snagging absolutely nothing. And did this several times, making sure that there was nothing in her way before she reached for the pitcher they kept in the bathroom for this very reason.

She filled it with the still-hot water and tugged Agatha's hair in a familiar gesture, urging her to tip her head back. Agatha did so with a smile that Rio hadn't seen in over a week, a look of pure relaxation coming over her features as Rio poured the water over her hair, running her fingers through the locks so that everything was soaked. She did this three more times, thoroughly drenching her wife's hair, before she placed the pitcher to the side and reached for the shampoo.

It was cold in her hands, but Rio warmed it up between her hands, watching as it foamed up into a thick lather before she reached for Agatha's hair again, dragging her nails over her scalp as she deposited the shampoo into her thick locks, smiling at the way Agatha moaned, low in her throat. She massaged the shampoo into Agatha's hair, bunching it up with her hands, making a mohawk out of it, adding spikes until both she and Agatha were giggling like small children. Then she reached for the pitcher, filling it up with the cooling water and, using one hand to help cleanse the shampoo, poured it over her wife's head, watching as the shampoo washed out, making the water of the bath even foggier.

She reveled in Agatha's sighs of relief as she leaned her head against Rio's knee. Rio pressed a kiss to the crown of her head as she poured even more water, her hands making quick work of cleaning out the shampoo.

"Feels good," Agatha murmured, pressing her lips to Rio's skin.

"I'm glad," Rio replied, filling the pitcher once more to pour over her wife's head. Finally, the shampoo was all rinsed out, Agatha's hair clean for the first time in several days, free of knots.

Rio reached for the conditioner then, squeezing out just a dime-sized dollop into her palm before rubbing her hands together and smoothing them over the ends of Agatha's damp brown locks. She poured water over her twice more, using her magic to warm the water up a little bit, smiling as Agatha sighed, inhaling deeply in relaxation.

When her wife's hair was perfectly clean, Rio reached for the soap and a washcloth hanging on the wall next to the tub. She dipped it into the re-warmed water and soaped it up, nudging Agatha to lean forward so that she could run the cloth up and down her back.

She scrubbed every inch of Agatha clean that she couldn't wash just a few days prior, scrubbing until her skin was pink and fresh, until Agatha was moaning under her ministrations. She ran the clothe over her face, as well, smiling as Agatha puckered her lips for a kiss. Rio had never been able to deny her a kiss or two or ten. By the time Agatha was clean, the front of Rio's shirt was soaked through from her wife wrapping her arms around her.

But she didn't mind at all.

Finally, she had Agatha stand up, the tub draining around her, and reached for the shower head, turning the water as hot as it could go, knowing that her wife could take it. Agatha let out a soft moan as Rio rinsed off the residual soapy water, running the washcloth all over her body once more to get everything off before she replaced the shower head and reached for a dry towel, wrapping it around Agatha's body and helping her out of the tub.

Agatha stumbled a little, but Rio caught her, pressing another kiss to her lips as she wrapped Agatha up in her arms again, leading her out of the bathroom and into their bedroom. She sat Agatha down on the bed, wrapped in the warm towel, as she searched for something for her to wear, locating one of her own tees and a pair of underwear, quickly dressing Agatha with no mind to the water spots that bloomed all over her body, soaking through the clothes instantly. Instead, she focused on drying Agatha's hair, patting it down and squeezing the water into the towel, using her powers as a hairdryer, blowing it out as she simultaneously brushed out the strands. Agatha didn't put up any protest to this, her shoulders relaxing under the faded band t-shirt, once again leaning back into Rio's embrace.

Once it was fully dry, Rio put aside the brush, separating the strands of Agatha's hair into two parts as she began a fishtail braid straight down the center of her head, singing softly in Spanish as she worked, tugging a little every now and then to elicit a gasp from her wife's lips, smirking mischievously to herself as she did so.

She tied off the braid just between Agatha's shoulder blades, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck before she encouraged her wife to lay down on the bed, helping her under the sheets, tucking her in. Agatha reached up, cupping Rio's jaw in her hands, pulling her down to press their lips together, one of her hands lowering to Rio's lower back.

But Rio resisted. "Not today," she husked, placing one more kiss against Agatha's lips. "That's not what this is. This is just about you. Just about making you relax, cleaning you."

Agatha let out a whimper, but Rio didn't relent, standing up and retrieving her own dry shirt, replacing the one that Agatha had soaked with her body. She returned to the bed, climbing under the sheets, encouraging Agatha to turn over, back to Rio, and wrapped her arms around her wife's waist, pressing kisses up her arms and shoulders, her cheeks, turning Agatha's head to face her over her shoulder so that she could reach her forehead. She felt Agatha's eyelashes flutter against her chin as she smiled against her skin.

Then, Rio leaned back down, pressing her nose into Agatha's braid, breathing in the lavender scent of the shampoo she'd washed it with, embracing the warmth of her wife's body without the barrier of several layers of blankets for the first time in too long.

"I love you, Rio," Agatha whispered into the darkness of their bedroom, her voice unburdened and raw.

Rio smiled, tightening her hold on the other woman.

"I love you, too, Agatha."

#agathario #agatha all along #rio vidal #agatha harkness #comfort fic

39 notes · View notes

ackackh · 5 months ago

Note

andyeddie and "things you said when i was crying" :')

- @majorbuckyegan

9. Things you said when I was crying.

Aha 🫣 I think you might have wanted some like sweet hurt/comfort. But instead my brain gave me Eddie crying during sex. Sorry??? 😬 idk what happened

have fun below the cut !

“Oh, baby.”

Baby. Eddie has come back down, a crash landing, and found himself teary-eyed and mute with Andy’s cock still inside him—and Andy is calling him baby.

He kisses Eddie’s jaw, kisses his quivering mouth and softly says there, “Oh my god, baby, you’re so beautiful.”

That can’t be right. He’s shaking all over and a mess of sweat and tears and—his throat makes this half-pained sound, gored through the middle when Andy starts to move again. “Andy.”

“I know. I know, but you can take it.” Andy’s voice is so soft and so sure. He takes Eddie’s mouth in another kiss, his fingers threaded through Eddie’s hair, and says again, “You can, baby, I know you can.” when Eddie gasps wetly.

It’s so much. It’s too much. Every feeling is rolling over Eddie, every sensation a bright streak of color through his body. His tears spill from the corners of his eyes and into Andy’s waiting hands.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Andy says again. And Eddie’s never felt beautiful in his life, but he’s never heard Andy’s voice like this, either. He wants to hide, tries to tuck his face into Andy’s neck, crying out weakly as Andy finds that electric place inside him and hiccoughing against the raw feeling clawing at his middle, at his mouth.

“Andy,” he whimpers.

“Oh,” Andy shivers at the sound, his body slows. His neck cranes away to find Eddie’s tear-stained face, “Oh, baby, it’s alright. You’re okay. You are.” He kisses Eddie’s cheek, hips grinding mindlessly, “You’re okay,” he reassures, “You’re wonderful.”

“I don’t,” Eddie sniffs, a pitiful little sound, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’ve never… everything is just so much.”

That handsome smile, war-bond worthy, graces Andy’s face and he shakes his head, “Nothing’s wrong with you.” he says. He still hasn’t stopped moving, driving Eddie higher and higher with him, and when he incidentally catches against that place again, Eddie makes a wounded sound, and Andy groans hard into his neck. “Baby,” he begins to ramble, there’s a timbre to his voice Eddie knows, “can I please—please, you’re so amazing, so fucking beautiful right now. Please, Eddie, I want…”

Eddie thinks he might just explode. He nods, “Yeah, yeah, you can…” and wraps Andy up tight inside himself, arms and legs winding around to keep him close. The tears haven’t quite stopped, but the way Andy holds him makes him feel like that’s alright. It all opens up around him, Eddie’s shaking nerves, Andy’s hot arousal, the warm nest of their bed, and it all becomes one thing, one astounding, wonderful feeling. Eddie thinks he might just collapse.

Andy won’t stop talking, won’t stop telling Eddie how he loves him, how beautiful he is, how good he is, and when it’s over he shudders against him, heaving breath curling into Eddie’s mouth.

He smiles, giggles happily against Eddie’s skin and slumps onto his chest.

“Easy for you to say,” Eddie runs his fingers through Andy’s hair, “you ain’t the fairy crying in his lover’s bed.”

“Crying in our bed.” Andy corrects lazily. He props his chin on the back of his hand, traces his fingers over the line of Eddie’s neck, “Eddie.” He says, “it really isn’t anything to be ashamed of.”

“Yeah? You certainly seemed to like it.” He sniffs again. His heart is finally slowing and he watches, quietly delighted, as Andy flushes a little deeper.

“It was… you have no idea what you do to me.” Arms wrapping around Eddie, Andy pushes his face into the warm crook of his neck. Holds him tight.

“I think I have some idea.”

Andy scoffs. His smile is hot on Eddie’s collar. Eddie’s breath still shudders, that overwhelming feeling beginning to dissolve into his skin, but Andy turns onto his side, carefully arranges them so he can hold him from behind.

“I love you,” he says, rubbing a soothing touch along Eddie’s arm. The hot-and-cool rhythm of his breath on the back of Eddie’s neck and the sweeping motion of his thumb on the back of Eddie’s hand pull him like a wave toward sleep. There’s no place better than this.

Eddie turns in his arms so he can face him, finds he can easily kiss the corner of his jaw from where he lays, “I love you, too, Andy.”

#majorbuckyegan #ask #AndyEddie #hope this is alright it’s sorta sweet?

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tryskomys · 2 months ago

Text

Wet Sand

Stone Gossard x OC

Chapter 15 - Mary

Summary: how could they all stand you?

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

notes: hello hello, guys! here we are with another stone pov. this guy is just a bundle of self-hate wrapped in a fancy sparkling gift-wrapping paper of hubris, sex appeal, sarcasm and cockiness. oh look, a christmas-y reference!

jokes aside, happy holidays to everyone who celebrates, guys. i appreciate you all so fucking much, hope you all have a sweet time, whatever that means to you <3

tws: religious imagery? for some reason? just writing this point out gives me whiplash lol. talks about sex. this guy has some deep-seated issues with himself y’all. a bit spicy, especially towards the end.

song:

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

August, 1989

It’s been four months and Stone hadn’t written a single note. The starting date of the album recording was finally creeping closer and closer, and he had nothing new. His mind has been emptied. Spent. Four months of seeing her flushed blissful face in place of anything he tried to put his attention to.

He couldn’t even shake the image out by banging his head against the wall - he tried. Repeatedly. But he wasn’t able to take a look in the mirror anymore without seeing Keeva’s wild hair next to him.

Four months and the night they spent together still haunted him like a shadow everywhere he went - at night on his way home from a party she didn’t attend, he could see the silhouette of her naked body on the graffiti-filled wall.

He could hear her muffled moans in the traffic noises outside their rehearsal space.

He could still smell her sweet sweat on his body when he took his clothes off to shower, despite scrubbing his skin raw many times over.

He couldn’t even hear the sound of his strings anymore - they were replaced by her heavenly sighs.

When Stone woke up next to her that morning, for a few puzzling moments he thought he’d actually fallen asleep instead, nosediving into a surreal lustful dream.

Keeva looked like a fallen angel from a Renaissance painting - her fawny hair was spread on the pillow like a perfect halo, the curls preciously separated into little ringlets thanks to the sweat and humidity.

Her freckled cheeks were as soft as a pair of feathered wings - but the maroon bruises that peppered around her sylph-like features were so harsh and raw in comparison that Stone physically recoiled. Such a nauseating desecration.

Even though her face was stained by many colourful hues of pain, her eyes were peacefully closed and her plush lips were curled into a sweet, content smile.

Her naked skin was almost as pale as the bed sheets - the blanket partially covered only her hips and one of her breasts, which gave the whole scene a strange, dichotomic aura of modesty. And the ethereal scent of sex she emanated made Stone’s head spin so fast that he believed that he couldn’t stay a second longer - but his body failed to listen to him.

Because instead, he sank back into the mattress with a sigh and wished that they could lock themselves in this room.

It would be so easy. No more than a couple of steps - take the key, throw it down the drain and stay in the janky bed forever. Survive off of each other, get tangled in the sheets, and do whatever they put their minds to.

Suspended in time, free of all responsibilities, untouched by the world around them. Just lazying around for the rest of their lives, sleeping, fucking, cuddling, laughing…just talking.

Pushing a few strands of hair out of his face, he was fighting every fibre of his body, because it seemed to do whatever it wanted without his permission.

First, he shuffled a bit closer to Keeva and blinked a few times before, completely absent-minded, leaning closer to her. Stone was inching closer so slowly that he could barely register his own movement. Her lips looked so soft and so pink and so swollen from all the head-spinning kisses she placed all over his body that - no.

He managed to gain control just as he felt her warm shallow breath on the bow of his lips. As he hovered above her, he pondered that he could at least steal one warm kiss on her neck, but he knew that he wouldn’t be strong enough to hold back after that.

Stone let out a strained sigh and pulled away just as slowly as he leaned in and rested his head on the pillow, his ears burning bright red. He was extremely embarrassed that he even thought about it.

Then, he lifted his hand to caress Keeva’s cheek, but midway through the air, he decided that it would be wiser not to touch her at all. Better not wake her up and leave before he does something he would regret later.

Because Stone knew that it would only take one kiss to make him collapse like a house of cards, never to be rebuilt again.

He couldn’t tear his gaze away, though. He could swear he felt his big eyes well up with equally big tears, a feeling that was so foreign to him that he almost felt scared by the sheer vulnerability of his position. But she was just so breathtakingly beautiful.

Stone had never seen Keeva sleep so peacefully before. Come to think of it, he’d actually never seen her sleep at all.

A year and a half of having this at the tips of his fingers and he’d never even seen her sleep.

All because he never had the balls to even just spend the night in the same room with her. Keeva was the one who had to take initiative, even though Stone had never wanted anything in his life as much as this. And now that he got it, he felt utterly insatiable.

It was nothing like he’d imagined. Stone took himself for a pretty creative guy when it came to daydreams about her, but not even his mind could ever conjure such an intense and pristine feeling of ecstasy he went through when he got to touch her. Even the tips of his lips were tingling, that’s how intense the tension was.

And she was amazing.

Out of this world, like a gorgeous lewd painting come to life, up for anything he brought to the table. It felt like they’d been doing this for ages, not for the first time. Immediately knowing everything the other thirsted for without even having to verbalize it.

It was nothing like Stone had ever felt before - after all those years of casual meaningless sex with both women and men, this was the night he finally lost his virginity.

He wanted another night - he didn’t give a fuck about how they’d spend it. He’d be satisfied even if she shackled him to the bed and only allowed him to watch her sleep. Or shackling her to the bed and just making her stare at him the whole night, thinking of what could he be doing to her.

Maybe put her in charge and see what it feels like to be in her grasp, eating from the palm of her hand.

Or do what he always naturally inclined towards - wipe that cocky smirk off her face and take her as raw as she’d let him, with no limits and a lot of begging. And judging by yesterday’s little slips of her composure, he knew that she’d go crazy for that.

No, Stone didn’t want one more - after that, another. And another and another, and then so many that he couldn’t even count that high.

The gluttony of it all made him sick.

Greed, too. Stone was never a jealous person - hell, he dodged every relationship as soon as it started showing any signs of exclusivity. But suddenly, he couldn’t stand the idea of Keeva laughing at another man’s joke.

One day, he knew, she would end up laughing with someone else. She will hold hands with that stranger, throw jokes in his direction. The stranger will get to taste those lips over and over again and she will let him. She will stay in the stranger’s bed - because the stranger will give her what he can’t. And she’ll lay there, smiling just as sweetly as now, her heart full of warm love and peace.

Already green with envy for a man neither of them had even met yet. It was hard enough to know that he was out there, just existing in blissful ignorance, not knowing that he would one day take Stone’s most precious thing - the problem was that Keeva didn’t even belong to him in the first place.

For a moment there, mindlessly running his fingers along the big bruise on his cheek, Stone didn’t recognize himself. Not only was he trying to call dibs on a woman who wasn’t even remotely romantically interested in him - he also felt like he owned the right to do it.

Never in his life had he gotten as angry as when he saw someone hurt her. It was such a primitive emotion - he was so furious that he felt like he could spit acid. Stone was ready to bash that guy’s head in - if Jeff hadn’t dragged him away, he might’ve kicked him out of consciousness.

And the dull pain of every single punch he took only made his blood boil further - suddenly, he felt like he could take on everyone in that room. Slam his face into someone’s skull without a second thought and without any consequence.

He wanted to fight. He wanted to cause pain. He wanted to hurt people. All because a couple of them had the nerve to draw Keeva’s blood.

But as always, Stone’s ego was his biggest downfall. Because he would never admit to this. He would never let Keeva know that she made him feel this way, because he basked in the fact that she thought he was cool and careless. He managed to be confident around her only because he wouldn’t allow himself to fully crack in front of her.

Through a few rough moments of arrogance, he even told himself that he was doing her a favour, just to give his mind some downtime.

But it didn’t matter what Stone’s intentions were or what he’d hoped to accomplish by bullshitting himself into thinking that he was over it. It all came down to the same conclusion - he wasn’t a good man for her.

He was stubborn and spiteful, a perfectionist without limits. Borderline rude, bitter. An asshole who can’t talk about his feelings because it makes him feel like a raw nerve. A jealous prideful prick that would bind her down instead of letting her explore something she deserves.

He could never bring her the comfort Keeva needed because he didn’t know how.

Trying to soothe the pain of a girl who’d been dragged through every single puddle of mud she’d stumbled upon throughout her nearly twenty-one years of life - and from what authority? An attorney’s son with a nice house and a loving family who’s revolting against a society that barely took anything from him while it had taken everything from her?

How could she ever love him when all he did was snark, fuck around and unknowingly flaunt his idyllic adolescence?

If Stone was given the choice, he’d break his spine to surrender everything he had and bring her his heart on a silver platter.

But how can you do that when you have nothing to serve?

Maybe the ginger Mormon was right all along - buying a few indulgences might’ve rid him of this awful shame.

If he wasn’t on the road to hell before, he surely bagged a one-way ticket now - a bullseye on all seven sins. And it only took one night.

Seven more reasons on top of the plethora in his head to leave as quickly as possible.

In fact, the sun wasn’t even properly up yet and he was already packed and ready to get out of there.

Half through the door, though, Stone’s right brain got the better of him and he turned back around. He spotted a basic notepad on the bedside table and rushed to it as silently as he could, trying not to take a single look at her.

It all felt like embracing Keeva and then stabbing her in the back with a knife. And the blade was so long that it pierced through his gut, too. He didn’t even know why he was doing it. He was just operating on raw impulses, trying to get it over with so he could just exit the situation. His fingers were shaking when he grabbed the notepad and the lousy pencil next to it.

Fuck, what am I even supposed to say? Doesn’t matter, it will all sound the same to her.

‘Good morning. You’re a fantastic fuck. I don’t care enough to stay, though. But I’d fancy fucking you again sometime. See you in the car! - Stoney’

Stone rubbed his eye so harshly that he nearly poked it out with the pencil. He mouthed a curse and frowned, hovering above the paper.

Hey, I had to run, but

He carefully tore the paper out with a sigh, crumpled it into a ball and stuffed it in his back pocket.

Morning, I’m sorry I’m not here, but Andy called and

Fuck no. I’m not dragging the queen snitch into this.

Hey, Baby. I needed to leave earlier, but it was

Morning. Had to go for a smoke, but I had a great

‘Sup, Baby, I packed up early, hope to see

Had to run, but I didn’t wanna wake

Already went out. You were

He had to bite into his knuckle to hold back a frustrated groan - the last thing he wanted was for Keeva to wake up in the middle of him running away like a coward.

Stone took a deep breath to compose himself, closed his eyes and decided to write down whatever came to his mind first.

Went downstairs for a blunt & coffee. That’s an invite, by the way. - lov

He stopped to stare at the paper for a few seconds and then lunged forward and started vigorously running the pencil over the last letters. He pressed down so hard he almost pierced the paper.

B. E. E. A. Ugh, fuck. B. B. E. A. A.

There we go.

Went downstairs for a blunt & coffee. That’s an invite, by the way. - be anpole

On cue, Stone heard a shuffle of the sheets, so he frantically snatched Keeva’s hair tie off the table and he quickly put the note in its place. Then he gathered all the aborted attempts he ripped out and picked them off the floor, tiptoeing out of the room.

As soon as Stone closed the door behind him, he let out a heavy sigh and ripped all the papers to bits, stuffing them in his duffle bag. He slung it over his shoulder and set off.

On his way through the hallway, he didn’t even bother to look into the mirror that was hanging there. He was focused on the hair tie he stole, trying to play a few rounds of Cat’s Cradle with.

He didn’t really pay attention to what he was doing, his mind was racing with so many thoughts that it all meshed into an ugly white noise. So without much thought, Stone turned the hair tie over in his fingers a few times and then lifted it to his nose, taking a big breath. Like it would…

Fuck. It does smell like her hair.

Stone had a bad habit of chewing on his scrunchies, but when he took this one between his teeth, it felt incredibly wrong. Before he could slap himself awake and finally use the tie the way it was supposed to be used, Greg emerged from one of the rooms next to theirs.

By now, months later and lying in his bed and staring out of the window while mindlessly strumming his guitar, Stone could hardly remember what he’d said to him as they headed to the café.

He only snapped back into consciousness when she walked in back then.

Keeva had bruises all over her face and a stitched-up forehead, her curls were sticking out in all directions and the tip of her nose was bright red from the cold wind outside, but she looked so well-rested.

She was beaten up and messy and frail, wearing the same worn-out leather jacket she’d been wearing since she was thirteen and those fucking dungarees that were starting to rip at the knees, yet she seemed like she’d just had the best sleep of her life.

If pride made people float, Stone would’ve been hovering so high up that they’d have to pull out a ladder to drag him down from the ceiling. And the little smile Keeva gave him when their eyes met nearly broke him - he was grateful that Greg stepped in to talk to her.

If he hadn’t, Stone probably would’ve jumped over the table, picked her up, thrown her over his shoulder and carried her back to the room, where he would’ve locked them and thrown away the key forever - surely accompanied by her angelic giggles.

When he finally stole the chance to talk at the gas station, he wanted to establish that nothing had changed - but everything had. When he took Keeva around the shoulders, the shockwave that went through his entire body was far stronger than it used to be, almost painful.

And when she showered him with toothy smiles and giddy compliments, Stone felt like he could fly again. The notion of being up for repeating the night - no, the notion that she wanted Stone to touch her again, was enough to make any of his common sense or determination dissolve like a snowflake on her warm palm.

At that moment, Keeva’s proposition seemed like a good idea. The perfect compromise. Words were spewing out of his mouth and he didn’t even know what he was saying. And she seemed so enthusiastic that he just couldn’t stop talking.

But the more Stone thought about it later, the more stupid it seemed. How the hell was he supposed to handle this?

How do you have casual sex with someone who makes you feel like this?

They were on tour through the entirety of April and even though they were in the same room - same bed every night, New York never repeated. Keeva usually went to sleep when Stone was already half out of it and when he woke up, she was already out of bed - often even out of the room.

At times it even felt like she was punishing him for leaving her that one time.

At first, Stone had pondered that maybe ‘one more night’ would shut his gluttony up and make the burning in his stomach disappear, but he knew far too many junkies to know that that was bullshit. There was always gonna be another ‘one more night’. But the ‘one more night’ hadn’t come yet.

As time passed, Stone settled on the fact that he’d agreed to it, there was no way back now and he was dying to have her so close to him again, now that he had this weird pass. And yet, he still couldn’t find a viable excuse to seduce her again.

Four months and the right opportunity never came.

He needed a reason. He couldn’t just come up to Keeva and whisk her away, that would be suspicious.

How the fuck do you have sex with someone without making them aware that you wanna have sex with them?

He envied Keeva’s excuse.

Yeah, I’m a virgin and I need my best friend to be the one who fucks me first - oh, no worries, it’s just a trust thing, it’s not like I love you.

But Stone couldn’t say that. After the Mormon, he never had a reason to have sex. He didn’t need one, he just liked the way it felt so he did it. Often. And there was never any other motive than just being turned on and having a hot person nearby who wanted him, too.

Stone had no idea how to operate with the thought of fucking someone to satiate love instead of lust.

Jesus, I’m such a fucking slut.

Oh. Oh, maybe that could be my excuse. I’m just a slut.

Come here, Baby. Oh, why? No reason. You’re here, I’m here - let’s bang.

He was so sick and tired of the guitar he’d been clutching for hours now. As always, Stone sat down with it as soon as he came home, trying to sweat out anything that he could bring to the table.

For some reason, Keeva seemed a bit stunted, too.

The few times they tried to bring something new in, it just wasn’t genuine enough. It didn’t have the heart he’d desired. Stone’s inner feelings suddenly seemed so raw and strong that he couldn’t even channel them into music. And even if he could, he knew it wouldn’t get a warm response.

That just wasn’t the kind of band they were.

Andy was always calling the shots - rightfully so, as the genius frontman slash lyrical engine.

Jeff was, on top of his groovy bass lines and complete art direction, pretty concerned about the technical stuff around the management of the band and his progressive ideas didn’t get much appreciation, either.

And Greg and Bruce, as fantastic of musicians as they were, just didn’t seem to have as much enthusiasm as Stone needed to be pushed to do his best.

He and Keeva were still writing, but it just wasn’t it when it was mixed with the other instruments.

After the year-plus of being together, he felt like they were hardly functioning as a band anymore - at least what Stone imagined a band should be.

They were working over and over on the same material they’d written in the first bursts of creativity when they got together and the passion was slowly but surely fizzling out - the record contract was already stepping on their throats and they haven’t even finished the first record yet.

Yes, Stone had some material, but it was so dark and primal that he didn’t feel comfortable baring his mind in front of everyone, especially when his soul was the most fragile it had ever been. And the guys, even though they were his friends, just wouldn’t get it.

She would be the only one to understand, but he couldn’t share it with her either.

His soul was split into pieces because of her, after all.

He wondered if Keeva felt the same - sometimes, he’d hear her noodling around upstairs and they were such haunting melodies that it made his heart sink. But they never left the confines of her room.

And Stone couldn’t write without her. It was their joint passion that made the best songs - but most of them were so rough that they couldn’t be shown to the guys without prickly comments and getting shunned immediately.

But he’d had enough, though. Of her, of himself, of this band, of this weird limbo they were floating in. He was going to snap them both out of it and he would do it today, no matter what it took. Stone needed her and if this was the only way to spark creativity, he would do it.

This strong resolute flew out of the window as soon as Keeva’s head popped into the door, a heated flush colouring her cheeks bright red.

“Ugh!” she groaned and slammed the door behind her, throwing her worn-out backpack to the floor. She immediately beelined to the kitchen corner to take a beer out of the fridge without even taking a look at him. “So I had the greatest day at work today. Only got yelled at once, can you believe that? Didn’t foam the milk enough. Who even buys hot coffee in this weather, anyway?”

Keeva hopped up on the counter, slotted the tip of the bottle between the fridge and the cupboard and yanked - the cap soundlessly fell to the carpeted floor, but she didn’t seem to care about littering at all. She just took a big gulp and then pressed the dewy green glass against her forehead.

Stone wouldn’t hold himself back anymore. The heat her body was radiating crept across the room and reached all the way to his skin. And he wanted more of it. Desperately.

Your friend is a slut, sweetheart. Nothing more, nothing less. No feelings, no reason. You wanted casual, you’ll have casual.

He carefully laid his guitar on the floor and stood up, sticking his hands into his pockets. Keeva was still shaking her head with her eyes closed and icing her sunburnt skin, oblivious to his careful steps towards her.

“Oh, and Kelly called. The Plant can apparently book us the house they talked about, so we’ll g-”

She trailed off when she finally looked up. She jumped a bit - from her point of view, Stone had just teleported across the room. For him, it was just a couple of strides - the slow and cautious tempo could be easily mistaken for confidence.

He watched Keeva like a hawk as he walked by - deliberately as close as he could without touching her - and then leaned his back on the wooden pillar that supported the attic stairs. He folded his arms and casually crossed his legs, still challenging her to a staring contest. She frowned.

“What’s up?” she shrugged.

Stone basked in her confusion, slowly raising an eyebrow. It made him feel more and more sure of his plan.

God, I make myself sick.

Keeva opened her mouth, closed it and opened it again, shaking her head. Now she seemed to be getting irritated.

“What did I say?” she questioned and wiped a bead of sweat that was running down her temple with the wet bottle. Stone didn’t respond.

He just pushed himself off the stairs and walked across the small corridor, stopping right in front of her. Keeva backed away a bit, but he could tell that he caught her curiosity, because she kept her eyes on his as if she was trying to read his mind through them. It made him shudder inside.

There were two features that Stone always felt self-conscious about - the huge alien eyes and the huge alien fingers. But there was something in the way Keeva always studied both that made him confident enough to irritate her with them. Be it brashly staring, tickling, poking or flicking.

And the stupid deal opened up an abundance of new ways to put that weird fascination of hers to use.

He slipped the bottle out of her hands and, without leaving her puzzled eyes, took a big drink. As Keeva raised an eyebrow, Stone slotted the bottle back into her grasp and leaned on the counter, arms tightly close to the sides of her hips.

Her lips parted and she hummed a strange noise of confusion when he tipped his head, darting across her face.

Stone was praying that she wouldn’t call his confidence bluff - he could barely breathe. His heart was beating so hard that he was worried it would jump out of his throat.

He carefully leaned closer and nudged Keeva’s nose with his own to make her turn her head to the side - when her lips moved far away enough from him to deem the temptation safe, he pressed a soft wet kiss on her sweaty cheekbone.

“Uh,” she shakily cleared her throat and blinked a few times. “What’s the occasion?”

No occasion. Just like you wanted.

Stone nudged her face further to the side - her lips were still too close. Close enough for his mind to drop the frail guard it held up against its own thoughts.

I love you.

Fuck.

“I’m bored.”

His voice came out just as blank as he wanted. He didn’t have any time to be proud of himself, though, because Keeva immediately fought back by trying to look back at him. She scoffed.

“And that’s my business how?”

She let out a suppressed sigh when Stone nudged her nose again, making her turn away.

“You’re in my way,” he murmured with a shrug and slowly nuzzled Keeva’s skin when a leftover drop of water ran down her face and fell on the tip of his nose, swiping the cold liquid across her cheek.

She shivered - he was about to write it off as her being ticklish, but then Stone noticed that she shifted in her seat and clutched the bottle tighter.

“Jesus. Your flirting skills are just off the roof, mate,” she shook her head with a strained chuckle and took a drink. His cockiness was clearly pissing her off, but he knew her enough to read between the lines.

“I’m not flirting,” he slightly backed away and tipped his head to the side again, trying to agitate her further by staring. “I’m stating a fact.”

“Okay, okay,” Keeva snickered and shuffled forward to hop down. He was completely caging her, though. “Can I go wash my hands now?”

Stone shrugged and gripped the counter tighter to underline that he had no intention of letting her go anywhere.

“I don’t know, can you?” he squinted. “Are you asking me for permission?”

She sharply scoffed, clearly half-assed in her attempt to push him away with her knees.

“Don’t act like it doesn’t get you bricked up.”

He inched away further to take a better look at her. Even though her deep voice was once again the one of a confident smart-ass, Keeva was studying the piece of ceiling that peeled around the lightbulb above them. So adamant about looking anywhere but his eyes.

She was just trying to seem composed and she was trying really hard.

Stone tutted.

“I don’t need you to feed my ego. I can do that well enough myself.”

“No shit,” she shook her head and reached out, pressing the freezing bottle to his neck, right on his wildly beating artery.

It was baffling how fast Keeva managed to make his bravado disappear every single time he tried to push on her - as soon as the glass touched his skin, Stone twitched and let out a poorly stifled gasp. Regrettably for him - a clear gesture that he was, in fact, still human.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you’re trying to seduce me,” she breathed out, a smirk cracking her wannabe disinterested attitude.

Stone quickly composed himself and moved closer again, dragging his lips along her jawline and up to her ear. He let out a breathy chuckle, tickling her flushed skin.

“Uh-oh. My bad,” he hummed, lifting his index finger to point at her chest. Keeva’s head quickly darted down - he sharply flicked her nose and pulled away, tilting his head to the side again. “Don’t wanna send the wrong message.”

She flinched at the unexpected sting and finally looked at Stone, giving him a sardonic scowl.

“Do you always talk this much?”

Stone nonchalantly shrugged and pushed himself off the counter so he could hook his fingers on her belt. He pulled her closer with one harsh tug.

His legs were shaking, but he felt bold enough to fist the fabric of her tank top and drag it out of the waistband of her jeans, lifting it enough to snake his hands under it.

“Depends,” he smirked, running his knuckles across her skin. “If you give it good enough, I shut up every once in a while.”

To his mortification, Keeva didn’t laugh. And her sigh wasn’t as euphoric as he’d hoped, either.

Her half-lidded gaze and ragged breaths might’ve indicated that she was slowly disappearing into a different plane of existence, but when she spoke, her firm tone was as cold and caustic as it could be.

Now she was turned on and upset.

“God. I’m amazed that you managed to go through half of this city. How could they all stand you?”

Keeva was the funniest human he’d ever met. But, as if one couldn’t exist without the other, she was also the most cruel when she wanted to be. Stone didn’t have it in him to fault her for that. He had no right.

Because his cruelty exceeded hers.

What the fuck did I… You’re in my way? If you give it good enough? I’m bored?!

Just a few moments ago, he was the one literally pushing Keeva’s face as far away as he could.

Fuck. What if - oh, fuck. She must think that I don’t even find her attractive enough to look at her. Fuck. Fuck.

He was so deeply caught up in his own hubris, so buried in the dumb routine that he didn’t even realize that it could seriously hurt her.

“I don’t give a flying fuck about half of the city,” Stone breathed out, already out of air before she even touched him. “How can you stand me?”

He bent down to rest his flaming forehead on the nape of her neck, pressing feather-soft kisses on her collarbone.

He had no idea how to telegraph the overwhelming shame he felt, so he’d hoped to God that she would understand this chaste gesture of apology.

He would go to war for the little laugh she let out while running her fingers through his hair.

“No idea. But I think I’m doing pretty well so far.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫

#90s music #grunge fanfiction #mother love bone #pearl jam #pearl jam fanfic #pearl jam fanfiction #pearl jam imagine #stone gossard fanfic #stone gossard fanfiction #stone gossard x oc #stone gossard #band fic

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lucy4242564 · 4 months ago

Text

damn shawty, we both not okay

Chapter 2.

When squads collide

When Lilah woke the next morning, she had to admit— she felt surprisingly refreshed. After her brief period of consciousness last night, she’d felt like she had gotten hit by a truck. A bit ironic actually.

She sat up slowly, taking in all of her surroundings. The RV door was opened and the window shades were up revealing a plethora of people outside, roaming around. While looking for a familiar face she was startled by the shaking of another body entering the RV.

Her eyes widened happily when she saw Lori. After two months of separation, the thought of ever seeing her again had nearly vanished from her mind. There she was though. “Hey honey.” Lori said in a voice sweeter than sugar.

“Hey.” Lilah squeaked out. She threw her feet from the side of the bed and stood to embrace her friend. The hug she received had been much needed. For a brief moment, all her problems were solved.

Then reality set in— she had so many questions.

“Rick?” She started.

“Getting good and woke up.”

“Carl? Shane? What happened? How did Rick figure out where to find you? Are you okay?” Questions spilled from Lilah’s lips.

Lori laughed and placed a hand on Lilah’s shoulder to calm her down. “Carl is outside playing, he’s fine. Shane left to get water a little while ago— should be back soon. I’m fine.”

“How did— Rick?”

The brunette sighed, looking down in a look Lilah wasn’t able to detect. “He ended up in Atlanta, surrounded by walkers. Glenn found him and took him in, Rick helped them escape the city which is how Glenn ended up finding you..” She trailed off. “I think Rick’s gonna go back sometime today.”

Lilah’s face twisted in a bit of shock and confusion. “For?”

“There was a man in our group that had been causing trouble when Rick got there. A waste of a human if ya ask me— but Rick cuffed him to a roof of a building and lost the key when they got swarmed.” Lilah looked at the woman with wide eyes, mouth agape. “Another guy chained and padlocked the door to keep the walkers from gettin’ him. The man has a brother that’ll be back…soon. Rick wants to go get him and bring him back.”

The blonde girl ran her hand over her face, a shocked smile etched along her lips. “Ya know— Rick Grimes and his morals.” Lilah stated.

Lori nodded her head, looking unsure of what to say next. Instead of touching on the topic anymore, she reached to the table next to her and handed Lilah some folded clothes. “Hope you don’t mind that I went through your bag. Figured you might want to get a fresh change before coming out.”

Lilah gave her a positive smile and looked for a bathroom.

“I’ll wait outside for you, I think Shane just got back.”

The blonde headed to get changed, looking forward to the adventure she was sure she was going on in the next couple hours. She was glad Lori had gotten her some fresh clothes. Despite changing into a something the day prior, they’d managed to become blood-stained.

Looking in the mirror she noticed how rough her appearance truly was.

Dirty sweat stains smudged down her face, splotches of blood along the outer part of her right arm, and messy hair that needed something done with it. She looked down at her calf where Morgan had accidentally hit her and there was a massive bruise taking up the majority of that part of her leg.

When she finished changing, Lilah braided the blonde pieces on her head to the side. Before she could take a second glance at herself she heard commotion outside. She rushed out the door of the RV to find Rick kneeling on the ground in front of a man with his back turned to her.

”Did he just throw squirrels at him?” Carol asked next to her as she looked down at a string of squirrels on the ground.

“What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others.“

As Lilah approached the men, her heart stopped beating— at least she thought it did. Squatting on the ground in front of the deputy was Daryl Dixon. She could see Rick look towards her out of her peripheral, but her eyes were fixated on the man who had began gazing back at her.

Never in a million years, especially in this world, did she think she’d run into him again.

She wanted to ask what he was doing there, why Rick’s attitude was so stoic, why was Shane pacing behind him like he was a ticking time bomb— then the pieces started fitting.

Lilah’s eyes narrowed towards Daryl before she turned to Rick in disbelief. “Did you strap Merle Dixon to a roof?!”

Rick’s mouth parted slightly before his head tilted in confusion. Looking quickly between the man on the ground and the girl who’d just confronted him, he began to understand. “He’s still up there.” He explained calmly.

“In the span of a day you’ve managed to not only practically sentence a man to death; you woke up from a coma, skipped town without even a hint of a goodbye, nearly died in Atlanta, and now you’re picking fights with a guy you don’t even know?” Lilah was in the biggest state of disbelief.

The past few days have been the most stressful of her life.

“Lilah, I thought you were dead.” Rick stepped closer. “Morgan said you fell back when they made an escape and he hadn’t seen you since. If I’d have known-“

“Well, my supposed death had been greatly exaggerated.” Lilah said sarcastically.

“Hey Polly Pocket, we’re all happy to see you alive. Why don’t you calm it down some okay?” Shane’s voice came from in front of her.

“Shane..” she sent him a smug smile. “Have you ever been hit by a car, or even almost hit by a car? Because it happened to me twice. Two times, in the span of 12 hours. Don’t you tell me to be calm.”

“But what Rick did with Merle had to be done. He was a-“

“It’s not Rick’s fault.” A new voice entered the conversation. “I had the key. I dropped it.”

“Y’couldn’t pick it up?” Daryl asked.

“Well, I dropped it down the drain.” A black man approached.

“If that’s s’pose to make me feel better, it don’t.” Lilah watched as Daryl stood up.

“Well, maybe this will.” The new man started. “Look, I chained the door to the roof so the geeks couldn't get at him— with a padlock.”

“It’s gotta count for something.” Rick added.

“Hell with all y’all!” Daryl’s voice broke while he swung his arm around defeated. “Just tell me where his is so��s I can go get’im.”

Before Lilah could tell him she’d tag along, Lori spoke. “He’ll show you.” His wife eyed him carefully. “Isn’t that right?” She asked, already knowing the answer.

“I’m going back.” Rick agreed; to which Lori disappeared into the RV.

“Ain’t letting you go alone Richard.” Lilah added, albeit a little spiteful. She could feel Daryl’s gaze burning a hole through her. Even as she tried to change her focus to her best friend, she faltered under the blue eyes. Willing herself to look at her past lover, Lilah attempted a smile— until their oceans met.

Unspoken words drifted in the air between the two; and when the neighboring parties began to drift away, she trailed a few steps behind him.

Silence remained a constant as they approached a tent set up on the far side of the camp. Lilah didn’t even know where to begin.

The last time she saw Daryl was after he left for work one morning— a quick kiss goodbye. She wrote away her future and got on the road, never looking back.

“I’m sorry about Merle.”

“Yeah, no thanks to ya little friend over there.” His words were rough as he set down on a log push in front of a makeshift fire pit.

Lilah looked over to the other side of camp, watching as Rick ducked into his and Lori’s tent. “I’m sorry about him. He’s been pretty out of touch with the reality of the world right now— to put things simply.” She didn’t want to be too forward by sitting close to him, so she resorted in sitting on the ground adjacent from him instead. “Rick’s not a bad guy.”

“Nah, just a piece a shit.”

“Daryl,” she sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was argue with him— then again— it was inevitably the one thing that was going to happen between them. “He made a bad call, but he’s making up for it.”

“That who ya ran with after ya left me?”

There was the confrontation she’d been expecting.

“I worked with Rick and Shane before all of that. I babysat his son, Carl.” Lilah explained.

“But when ya left, that’s where ya went. Yer the Lilah that kid’s been rambling about.”

A meek smile graced her face at the mention of Carl. “He talked about me?”

“Don’t shuddup.” Daryl took a knife from his pocket before grabbing a piece of wood from the ground. He began fiddling with it, shaving off the bark, carving it into a new shape.

“Did you,” Lilah thought on her phrasing. “I mean, when he said my name.. did you wonder if…”

“If he was talkin’ bout the same person I was thinkin’ of?”

“Yeah.”

“Course I wondered.” He said, throwing the ground up stick of wood into the fire pit. “Didn’t matter though, his Lilah was s’pose ta be dead.” A bitter frown never left his face as he spoke, but she could hear the very slight change in his tone.

“Wait— what?” Lilah asked after realizing his words.

Daryl finally paid attention to the look across her face. Her lips were spread into a grimace, while she narrowed her eyes at his words. “His Lilah got left behind. Heard Shane talk about the geeks taking over y’all’s town.” He explained, sharing a confused look of his own. “Said you went down in town and yer buddy Rick died in the hospital.”

“Shane said that?” She didn’t pause long enough for him to answer her question. “That isn’t what happened at all.” Lilah shook her head.

“Well yer both here ain’t ya?” Daryl somewhat stated as a non-question.

“No I mean, that’s not what happened. Shane knew Rick wasn’t dead. He knew I stayed behind, we worked a game plan out together.. kind of.”

The sound of foot steps approaching caused Daryl to nod behind her— “speak of the devil.”

“Lilah, hey. I needa talk to you.” Shane said, putting a gentle hand on Lilah’s head. She lifted her head more, cocking it backwards to get a better look. She rolled her eyes at him but stood up anyways as he gave her a look to follow, watching as she told Daryl she’d talk to him later.

The two walked away to a semi-private space behind the RV. “What’s up?” She asked, trying not to think too hard about what Daryl had said.

“Look, I need you to help me talk Rick outta goin’ to Atlanta.”

Lilah’s eyebrows rose dramatically, a small laugh escaping her mouth. She shook her head before placing her hands on her hips. He went to speak again but Lilah beat him to the punch. “Absolutely not. You know just as well as I do that he wouldn’t listen anyways.”

“Lilah, think about Lori and Carl.” He tried bargaining.

She looked at him wildly, “They are the only people I’ve been thinking about for two months! I stayed in a walker infested town in hopes of bringing Rick back.”

“And you did. That’s what I’m tryna get at girl— he’s back because of you. Why are you gonna support him risking his life for a man that wouldn’t piss on him if he was on fire.” Shane got a little closer to her, causing her to step back and keep a distance.

“You told them we were dead. They didn’t think we were coming back.” Lilah spat. “And I don’t give a damn what Merle would do, it’s the principle of the situation. Rick left him, so Rick’s getting him back.”

When she turned to walk away a hand on her wrist stopped her, pulling her back in. Instinctively, Lilah kneed him in the crotch, only realizing her movements after they’d already gone through. Not wanting to stick around for him to recover, she slipped away.

—

“Hey Daryl.” Lilah called lightly from where she stood at the inner part of camp, her book bag in hand. “I don’t know anything about crossbows, but uh— long story short, I nearly died for these arrows back home.” She held out the tube containing the eight bolts, passing it to him and hoping he’d get some use out of them.

He opened the case, inspecting the arrows from top to bottom. When he looked back up he had a puzzled look on his face. “These’re brand new.”

“Yeah,” Lilah smiled, thinking fondly of Mr. Clayton. “The friend that gave them to me had shoulder surgery around the time he got his crossbow. Never had a chance to use them.”

“Thanks.”

She was going to respond but Shane’s aggressive voice and the sass in Rick’s walk had her attention before she could.

“Could you just tell me why? Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?”

Lilah shifted slightly, hoping his far too loud words wouldn’t start something. “Hey, choose your words more carefully.” Daryl warned, prompting Rick to turn around and face Shane.

“No, I did. Douchebags what I meant.” Shane glanced at Daryl momentarily before focusing back on Rick. “Merle Dixon— the guy wouldn’t give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst.”

“What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me. I can't let a man die of thirst— me.” Rick argued.

Lilah was proud of Rick for standing his ground, especially as he was the newcomer of the camp. His morals still stood unwavering. She would stand with him regardless. At that point in the apocalypse; Lilah had done so much for Rick, she wasn’t letting him go at anything alone anytime soon.

“So what?” She heard Lori ask. “The three of you are going to Atlanta, that’s the big plan?” The condescending tone didn’t go unnoticed.

To Lilah’s surprise, Rick turned to Glenn in what she assumed to be an attempt to have him join the rescue mission. Rick had never been one to pull others into his shenanigans— maybe he was turning over a new leaf.

He must’ve agreed, Lilah was out of ear shot but Shane had made a big deal that four members were now leaving.

“Five.” T-dog added.

Daryl scoffed before plopping onto the ground, pulling his new arrows out of the case. “My day just keeps gettin’ better and better, don’t it.”

“You see anybody else stepping up to save your brother’s sorry cracker ass?” Lilah had to bite back a chuckle. As much as she had grown to love Merle, she also knew he wasn’t the finest man to stumble upon. He had his horrible qualities, which is the main reason Lilah had chose to keep her mouth closed.

She’d save him, but wouldn’t defend him.

Morals and all.

“That’s five people.” An older man commented. Lilah was pretty sure his name was Dale, but introductions hadn’t really happened with all the commotion.

“It's not just five.” Shane added. “You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick. Come on, you saw that walker.” His voice raised before he looked between Lilah and Rick. “It was here. It was in camp. They're moving out of the cities. They come back, we need every able body we've got. We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect camp.”

Lilah refused to meet his eyes, instead meeting Rick’s. They shared a look, but she wasn’t expecting him to talk about guns. The man had brought in all the ammo and weapons from King County— stuff they needed.

“You went through hell to find us. Two months of waiting, Lilah. You waited for him to get outta that hospital bed for two months.” Lori paused, looking between her husband and the girl she’d come to know as family. “Y’all just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?”

“I don't want you to go.” Carl mumbled.

“To hell with the guns. Shane is right. Merle Dixon?” The brunette began again. “He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in. Tell me. Make me understand. Either of you.”

Lilah wanted to. She wanted so badly to tell Lori of her attachment and somewhat of a loyalty to Merle Dixon. He had saved her life years ago.

“I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy.” Morgan. “Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. I thought Lilah was dead, had no idea she’d been taking care of me all that time. That man.. It's because of him that I made it out of King County. They said they'd follow me to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap I did.”

“He’s a good man Lori. His boy is a little older than Carl, I saved him. He sent me in Rick’s direction. I wouldn’t have made it out here if he hadn’t helped. They can’t go to Atlanta Lori, it isn’t safe.” Lilah tried helping Rick plead his case.

“What's stopping you?” That question, Lilah didn’t have an answer to.

“The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped. He's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer.” Rick explained. It all made more sense now. She defended Rick so blindly, sometimes she didn’t know what she was even helping him with. Lilah wasn’t afraid to admit she had a bit of a problem when it came to loyalty.

Once she committed, she did it with her whole heart.

—

Lilah lounged in the back of the box truck as Glenn backed it up to the camp to load things easier. Rick was off gambling for some bolt cutters, and truth be told; Lilah wanted a nap.

Just as her eyes shut, the sound of a horn beeping made her jump.

“Come on, let’s go!” She heard Daryl yell. Propping herself up on her elbows, Lilah squinted at him. She was still in awe that he was actually in front of her. They had so much to talk about, but just his presence at the moment was enough. “Whatcha lookin’ at princess?” He asked sarcastically as he noticed her gaze.

Despite their past relationship and the scale of intimacy they’d been in together, she couldn’t stop a blush forming on her face when she was caught. Lilah sucked her lips in, laying back and shutting her eyes again.

It wasn’t a long drive to Atlanta, but maybe she could sneak in a short nap.

—

She heard the slamming of the passenger door, along with the rattling noise that came when the back lid was pulled down. When the truck began moving, the shifting of bodies around her had her peaking her eyes open. “You can’t be comfortable.” T-dog commented from her right. Before she could reply, she heard Rick’s voice.

“Let me guess— blondie’s takin’ a nap.”

Lilah snorted at being called out. She was never one to turn down a good snooze.

“Sure is.” T-dog replied. “This ain’t nothing but plywood underneath us, you gonna get a crick in your neck.”

“I fell asleep underneath a table one time, completely sober.”

“With a 10 year old on top of her.” Rick added.

Lilah smiled at the memory; It felt like a lifetime ago. She missed babysitting Carl. There were few times she felt that it was a chore— even then it wasn’t horrible.

“Hey,” T-dog nodded at Lilah. “How’d you know Merle?”

“Huh?”

“When you first came out the RV. You confronted Rick about him.” Glenn called back.

Her mind began spinning, trying to think of a viable excuse. She didn’t really want to put her dirty laundry in front of strangers. Propping herself back up, she looked nonchalantly at Daryl who sat beside her feet. They briefly made eye contact but he looked away.

“Yeah Lilah, how ya know my brother?” Daryl asked sarcastically.

Asshat.

If he wanted to be a dick about things, that was fine by her. She was trying to save the both of them from awkward interactions— but his attitude just fueled her fire. “Oh, you don’t remember?” A smug look came over her face. “I dated you for three years Daryl, I thought I meant more to you than that.”

The bite at the end wasn’t necessary and was overkill considering she was the one that walked away. Still— they’d gotten along just fine prior, he didn’t have to be such an ass about it. Lilah silently hoped she hadn’t misinterpreted his tone.

Silence filled the truck the rest of the way; the air too tainted by words to be lighthearted anymore.

—

The group had been jogging for about twenty minutes when they finally came up on a fence with an opening cut out of it. Glenn tucked it up for the rest of them to pass through, before following them through. She was taking in her surroundings as the men argued whether to go after the guns or Merle first. They began jogging again when Glenn made the decision to grab Merle.

Lilah admired Glenn’s ability to disassociate himself from the tension surrounding him and make calls based on his own judgement. It was something Lilah wasn’t able to do— her loyalty had her in a death grip.

It’d probably be what killed her one day.

They made their way quickly and carefully into the shopping center, dodging geeks had come easy so far. She hoped it would remain that way.

Lately hope had been all she was running on; it had gotten her this far.

The group paused at Rick’s hand as he motioned towards a female walker coming around a store counter. She watched as Daryl effortlessly moved towards her, barely making a sound. Had he not been right in front of it, it wouldn’t have even noticed him approaching. “Damn. You are one ugly skank.” He said before piercing the walker with an arrow.

Lilah flinched at the sight of him removing it from the geek’s skull. She hadn’t ever been squeamish, but the sound is what really got to her. Taking out a few more walkers, they headed up the stairs in a hurried pace. It had been an entire day since they’d left Merle up on that roof in the Georgia heat. Rick wasn’t kidding when he said not even an animal deserved that.

With a quick sigh of relief at the sight of the chained door, she shifted out of the way to let T-dog through with the bolt cutters. As they sliced through the steel like butter, Daryl wasted no time kicking open the door to yell for his brother; the rest of the group following close behind.

Lilah looked around the rooftop for the older Dixon. Nothing. Her heart sank when she saw a pair of handcuffs still attached to a pipe, but no Merle.

She darted over the tools that laid scattered across the floor to get a better view of things. The sound of Daryl’s desperation made her soul ache— she wanted to comfort him. That wasn’t her role anymore though, which only had her hurting a little more.

#daryl dixon #twd daryl #daryl dixon x oc #fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x original character #ao3 #daryl dixon x original female character #rick grimes fanfiction #twd #twd fanfiction #the walking dead fanfiction

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taylor-swift-bracket · 10 months ago

Text

🎇Please reblog!🎇

Comment your favorite bridges!

Notable Bridges

(Under the cut)

evermore

champagne problems

Your Midas touch on the Chevy door

November flush and your flannel cure

"This dorm was once a madhouse"

I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"

How evergreen, our group of friends

Don't think we'll say that word again

And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls

That we once walked through

One for the money, two for the show

I never was ready so I watch you go

Sometimes you just don't know the answer

'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

"She would've made such a lovely bride

What a shame she's f*cked in the head," they said

But you'll find the real thing instead

She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

ivy

So yeah, it's a fire

It's a violent blaze in the dark

And you started it

You started it

So yeah, it's a war

It's the fiercest fight of my life

And you started it

You started it

tolerate it

While you were out buildin' other worlds, where was I?

Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky

Now I'm beggin' for footnotes in the story of your life

Drawin' hearts in the byline

Always takin' up too much space or time

You assume I'm fine, but what would you do if I

marjorie

The autumn chill that wakes me up

You loved the amber skies so much

Long limbs and frozen swims

You'd always go past where our feet could touch

And I complained the whole way there

The car ride back and up the stairs

I should've asked you questions

I should've asked you how to be

Asked you to write it down for me

Should've kept every grocery store receipt

'Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

Watched as you signed your name Marjorie

All your closets of backlogged dreams

And how you left them all to me

right where you left me

Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

She's still twenty-three inside her fantasy

How it was supposed to be

Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

Breakups happen every day, you don't have to lose it

She's still twenty-three inside her fantasy

And you're sitting in front of me

Midnights

Hits Different

I find the artifacts, cried over a hat

Cursed the space that I needed

I trace the evidence, make it make some sense

Why the wound is still bleedin'

You were the one that I loved

Don't need another metaphor, it's simple enough

A wrinkle in time like the crease by your eyes

This is why they shouldn't kill off the main guy

Dreams of your hair and your stare and sense of belief

In the good in the world, you once believed in me

And I felt you and I held you for a while

Bet I could still melt your world

Argumentative, antithetical dream girl

Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve

God rest my soul

I miss who I used to be

The tomb won't close

Stained glass windows in my mind

I regret you all the time

I can't let this go

I fight with you in my sleep

The wound won't close

I keep on waiting for a sign

I regret you all the time

You’re Losing Me

How long could we be a sad song

'Til we were too far gone to bring back to life?

I gave you all my best me's, my endless empathy

And all I did was bleed as I tried to be the bravest soldier

Fighting in only your army, frontlines, don't you ignore me

I'm the best thing at this party (You're losin' me)

And I wouldn't marry me either

A pathological people pleaser

Who only wanted you to see her

And I'm fadin', thinkin'

"Do something, babe, say something" (Say something)

"Lose something, babe, risk something" (You're losin' me)

"Choose something, babe, I got nothing" (I got nothing)

"To believe, unless you're choosin' me"

You’re On Your Own Kid

From sprinkler splashes to fireplace ashes

I gave my blood, sweat, and tears for this

I hosted parties and starved my body

Like I'd be saved by a perfect kiss

The jokes weren't funny, I took the money

My friends from home don't know what to say

I looked around in a blood-soaked gown

And I saw something they can't take away

'Cause there were pages turned with the bridges burned

Everything you lose is a step you take

So, make the friendship bracelets, take the moment and taste it

You've got no reason to be afraid

Anti-Hero

I have this dream my daughter-in-law kills me for the money

She thinks I left them in the will

The family gathers 'round and reads it and then someone screams out

"She's laughing up at us from Hell"

youtube

#taylor swift #taylor swift poll #poll #my polls #swifties #midnights #evermore #Youtube

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levi501ackerman · 1 day ago

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Steel Heart Chapter 33: Steel Heart

Hange x Reader Chapter Index Masterlist AO3

Megan's Note: After Steel Heart I will not be posting long fics on tumblr. I started my new job earlier this week! and here's some other good news<3 I'm going to study abroad this summer!!! I'm so excited!<3<3 This chapter opens the flood gates for the rest of the story!! I've always had act 4 planned out and so mfing excited to get into later chapters YUM!! Thank you so much for reading <3

Posted: 1/31/25 (on AO3) Posted: 2/4/25

Word Count: 7.7k

It was Levi who suggested to the King that you get help and learn how to cope with the stress and traumatic events you endured. When Nanaba informed The Queen and her King of the incident of you puking all over yourself while meeting Prince Marco Bodt, there was no doubt you would start seeing Doctor Grisha Yeager.

Upon entering a private room in a higher part of the castle, you instantly recognized him. He was the man with glasses who was in the room when you visited your mother. It wasn’t hard to figure out by his last name and the color of his hair that he was Eren’s father . . . and Zeke’s.

Doctor Yeager’s first question was how you were feeling after the aftermath of meeting Prince Marco and the humiliation instantly returned. It was like you were back in that moment. The moment when your stomach couldn’t throw up anything else besides the traces of yellow bile and the rain had drenched your hair and face. Makeup stained your cheeks and everyone in the room had difficulty breathing with the foul putrid air. Armin took off his chestplate for you to cover up and protect your dignity. Sasha hid your face in her chest as you held on to her while she, Annie, Nanaba, and Armin guided you back to your chambers. You were more annoyed and angry with yourself that your body reacted in that way. There was no grace or humor in the memory, just the lack of control—no autonomy for your body or destiny.

The room had four large windows on adjacent walls, which allowed the midday sunlight to come in. The room itself had a dark atmosphere. Its walls were a deep shade of maroon, and the furniture, such as Doctor Yeager’s desk and coffee table, was made of dark oak. The couch he wanted you to sit on was cool to the touch, and the dark leather stuck to the sweat on your arms, causing you to cross them. Doctor Yeager commented that, based on your body language, he thought you were guarding yourself.

You explained about your arms sticking to the leather couch, but he still believed you were guarded. Who shares their entire life story upon meeting someone right away, anyways? Or at least their deepest thoughts. He only knew what Commander Dame Hange Zoe spoke about during the formal debriefing meeting, considering he read the report,

“Growing up in Shiganshina is different from the castle.” Doctor Yeager’s statement sounded more like a question—like he wanted you to share about your childhood, but he continued. “I grew up in Shiganshina along with my son, Eren Yeager, one of the knights that escorted you.”

“Oh,” his lack of mentioning Zeke was interesting and reminded you that Eren told you they weren’t close. “He was nice.” He stared at you with a pleasant smile and crow's feet on the sides of his eyes. He didn’t encourage the conversation and instead, the silence lingered uncomfortably long. What was even more uncomfortable was the way he didn’t take his eyes off you, waiting for you to share more. “I wasn’t very close with him, but I’m glad he survived.”

“Who were you close with?”

“Captain Levi,” You didn’t dare to say Hange first. “He helped Sir Zacharius get antibiotics and when we found each other, he gave me food after not having any for weeks.”

“And what about Commander Hange?” With his question, it felt like there was a target on your back like there were people within the stone walls infiltrating the private conversation between you and Doctor Yeager. Armin Arlert should be just outside the door, along with many guards, waiting and watching for strange activity.

Although Doctor Yeager told you that everything that was spoken between the two of you stayed between the two of you, you would never dare to risk the fate of Hange. Your reply or anything you spoke relating to Hange could be evidence that led to further suspicion. No trail should be left to investigate.

“I was close with Hange because they were the only other woman. We shared a tent and they were very nice to me. A friend I’ll have forever.” The words flowed out easily.

“Lady Nanaba informed the King you asked for Hange while you were feeling anxious about meeting Prince Marco. Would you tell me why them?” You couldn’t tell if he had a suspicion for a lead on your relationship and knowing you had a secret was suffocating like everything you did and everything you said could lead to exposing Hange’s treason. There was a pinching pressure on your hands and upon the bony landmarks on your knuckles, you realized how tightly you gripped your hands.

“Hange helped me calm down when I was stressed.”

“In what way did they help?” He raised his eyebrows behind his circular-rimmed glasses.

“They . . . they reminded me to breathe deeply—you know—in through the nose and out through the mouth . . .” Doctor Yeager itched the skin along his collarbones, tugging on the brown fabric of his vest to reach the spot.

“Diaphragmatic breathing is a good technique; it helps make you feel in your body more . . . Have you heard of the three three three technique?” He stood from the couch and walked around the dark oak coffee table to offer you a hand.

“I-I haven’t.” You took his rough hand and he guided you toward the window.

“It is very simple,” Doctor Yeager guided you toward one of the four large windows. “When you are in your head and feeling anxious, I want you to ground yourself and be aware that you are not experiencing what you are thinking. Look out these windows.” He said and the clear sky made the castle have a bright glowing essence from the sun shining down on the white stone quartz. “Let’s start with three things you see.”

While you gazed out over the City of Mitras and the peaks and roofs of the towers, you weren’t sure if Doctor Yeager was looking for diverse answers. You could have said three different parts of one tower or the different tops of the towers you saw. The cone-shaped roofs, the flat, and the lookouts were all dispersed in the view. Doctor Yeager’s office was so high in the sky that there was an overwhelming vast number of choices below. It was eye-opening to realize how Mitras Castle majestically dominated the landscape. The dark blue roofs of buildings you passed in the city looked like mere pebbles beneath your feet. The tops of the wall surrounding the city were visible and the movement of guards on the lookout was like a tiny army of ants. When you’re above everyone, you can’t help but look down on them.

What caught your eye again was the awkward, dull tower reaching for the heavens. From a higher view, you could see a large opening near the top, appearing to be like a window. The very peak of the tower was above where you were and you noticed the crenelated dull stones circumferencing the top of the tower.

“That . . . dull tower over there,” you pressed an index finger against the glass. “ . . . And the flag of my family on that tower over there, and . . . and the person—that knight walking on top of the wall over there.”

“Good. Good.” His voice drew your eyes from the window to his friendly blue eyes. His entire body, from the top of his neatly combed hair down to his brown shoes, faced you. The entire time, he studied you. “I am glad you looked at this view and took a moment to appreciate it. Your Highness, it is a privilege to see this much of the world . . .” You cast your eyes back at the grand landscape. Just past the wall was a dewy meadow with traces of decaying memories with Hange. From where you stood in Doctor Yeager’s office, the river running south and east were glimmering stripes of blue. “When you are in your head and thinking of the horrors you encountered, I want you to look at three things in your surroundings. Then listen for three things you hear and move three parts of your body.” He noticed how you furrowed your eyebrows while peering through the glass. “You can roll your wrists, roll your ankles, stretch your neck, stretch your quads, touch each finger with your thumb, something that makes you physically feel yourself in your body.”

You nodded, absorbing every word and recognizing the reality of needing to stand on your own two feet. The crown was not on top of your head yet the weight of expectations was planting you in the ground, burying you in the soil. Even as you reach for the air, begging for relief or searching for Hange’s hand, no one helps and no one knows you’re struggling to breathe.

“Thank you, Doctor, I’ll try this technique.” The dull tower caught your eye as you returned to the indentation on the leather couch, warmed by an hour or so of sitting.

“I am sorry you were blindsided with this life.” He said, “Being in hiding in Shiganshina and then all of a sudden the Marleyan Cult destroys the district and intends to hunt you . . .” You thought he was going to say more, but he didn’t. It was like he wanted you to finish his thoughts by adding your personal anecdotes or your opinion on the position you were in. The comfort in the silence withered away as Doctor Yeager waited for you to say something. The urge to speak was jabbing you at your side, pestering you, but within the last hour, you grew tired of reliving the horrors. “Before you go,” He spoke with a more uppity tone, “I wanted to pick your brain on the topic of your medical history.”

“Okay . . .”

“Do you know if you are allergic to shellfish?” He lowered his voice.

“I’m not sure. I never had shellfish . . .”

“No crab, oysters, lobsters, scallops, or prawns?” He leaned forward.

“No, why?” Doctor Yeager stared at you for a moment and you could tell the gears in his head were turning.

“Again, I want you to know that everything we speak about in this room does not leave this room.” A foreboding feeling in the pit of your stomach stirred. “I am going to tell you a secret that must remain between you and me.”

“Okay . . .”

“Will what I tell you stay between us?”

“Yes, it will.” You said, intrigued by his manner.

Doctor Yeager sprang from his spot on the couch and hurried to his desk. He pulled out a white folded cloth and gingerly held it between his hands.

“I have been taking care of your mother since she had fallen ill.” He whispered and glanced at his office door as if someone were to intrude at any moment. “For a while, I thought she had caught a flu or a disease . . . the number one reason she is dying is because she can barely keep the food down and she’s dying a slow death of starvation. I thought she had a stomach illness until this morning . . .” Doctor Grisha unfolded the white napkin until a tiny speck of a dark bent specimen, scarcely thicker than a sliver of a fingernail, was revealed. “His Majesty and I found this while feeding her mashed potatoes.” He looked for your reaction, but you couldn’t quite figure out what it was. It looked like a burnt stem of spinach or a single piece of dark thyme.

“What is that?”

“A cricket leg,” He whispered.

“What . . . ?”

“This stays between you and I.” He leaned forward, his lips inches from your ear as your eyes remained on the cricket leg. “I do not have any evidence besides this, but I have an inkling that Her Majesty did not fall ill randomly. She has been poisoned by someone mashing crickets into her food.”

“What?!” Your eyes grew wide at Doctor Yeager’s disgusting speculation. He held a finger to his mouth, shushing you and his words paralyzed you.

“Your mother is allergic to shellfish . . . when you are allergic to shellfish, you are likely to be allergic to cockroaches, grasshoppers, and crickets.” Your stomach twisted at the implication of his words. The thought of someone insidiously poisoning the Queen—your mother—tugged on your heartstrings. “I did not flag her illness as an allergic reaction until the person slipped up and left a cricket leg in her food. From now on, the King and I will examine her food thoroughly and hopefully, she will stop throwing up and slowly get the nutrients her body needs to heal. I suggest you inspect your food thoroughly.”

“Dr. Yeager, do you think I may have thrown up yesterday because of crickets in my food?”

“Maybe, but based on what Lady Nanaba told the King and what the King told me, I think that was because of your anxiety. We could gather more evidence, but I suspect that because Lady Nanaba said you vomited on your way to the Castle. You also have not mentioned or shown any other symptom of being ill.” His words slightly eased you, but simultaneously, you dreaded your next meal. “That being said, this stays between you and me. We can not have the person sneaking crickets into her food know that we know.”

You nodded, assuring Doctor Yeager had your trust.

“It has to be someone in the kitchen, right?! You should suspect Niccolo because he’s from the Marleyan Cult!”

“Niccolo? The blonde knight from Karanese District?” You wished you had kept quiet. Your hasty accusation was dumb.

“I—yeah . . . nevermind, I—I don’t know why I said that . . . He was a member of the Marleyan Cult and one of the moles until he betrayed the cult and helped Commander Hange and Captain Levi.”

“He couldn’t be a suspect because your mother was poisoned before he came to the castle?” He said more like a question and you heard the curiosity in his tone, wondering why you thought Niccolo to be the culprit.

“Yeah, I—I don’t know why I thought of him. He wanted to work in the kitchen and I just—I just—sorry, I don’t know . . .” You shrugged.

“I understand you may be on the fence about anyone relating to the Marleyan Cult, but not all of them want to harm you. Some were born there. They had no choice in the environment they were born in. The Queen loved Annie like she was her own daughter. How are you getting along with her?” Like an owl, you slowly turned your head, processing what Doctor Yeager asked. Like she was her own daughter. You blinked rapidly as if each flutter of your eyelids would erase his words. Annie barely spoke a word around you, and she did not seem like she was a person who outwardly tried to befriend people. Like she was her own daughter.

“She’s okay . . . why?”

“She is from the Marleyan Cult and she acts like a normal girl because she is a normal girl who happened to be born in the Marleyan Cult.” Doctor Yeager said, too casually to your liking.

The dim room where your mother rested flashed in your mind and the words echoed, drumming against your bruised ego. I wanted you to grow up with me . . . I wanted to be a good mother. A sharp pinch stabbed the palm of your hand, and you unclenched your fist upon noticing. Though she told you it was never her idea to send you to Shiganshina, why would you be sent to Shiganshina just for another girl to grow close to her?

Sir Armin Arlert could tell you were uptight about the thoughts coiling in your head because his glance grew more concerned while Lady Nanaba droned on about the schedule for the award ceremony. A flare in your chest burned at the thought of Annie being a member of the Marleyan Cult and being close to your mother. Like she was her own daughter. Your parents sent you away to Shiganshina only for them to bond with a member of a cult that wanted to treat you as a host for their ritual. A cult that killed many knights in gorey painful ways, trying to protect you. A cult that burned down your hometown. A cult that killed so many knights at the temple, leaving only a few survivors. A cult that sent mutts to attack you and many horses.

When you entered your chambers, Annie was the first girl to come into view. The small blonde girl didn’t appear harmful or like she had any malicious intent, yet there was a thick divide compelling you to keep her at bay. You glanced away from her, diverting your attention to the large rabbit hopping toward Armin.

As Annie brushed your hair, she held the ends and gently untangled the few knots. Her heavy lids hovered over her uninterested eyes and her impassive face sparked a bitter thought. She probably didn’t look so uninterested in your mother. You clenched your jaw, staying silent, while the thought festered inside. Like she was her own daughter.

You huffed.

She glanced at you in the mirror of your vanity but didn’t react to your blatant annoyance. It irritated you how she didn’t ask if you were alright or if something was weighing on your mind. Annie might have been concerned if your mother was in your current position, but instead, Annie combed your hair. Perhaps the Marleyan Cult taught Annie to be sweet and helpful to those who will grant her more information or access. Maybe Annie didn’t care to extend the courtesies because, in her mind, she was close to the Queen. Like she was her own daughter.

“Lady Nanaba?!” You called for her and her heels clicked on the cream-colored tile.

“Yes, your Highness?” Nanaba elegantly greeted from the door’s threshold.

“My mother will be at this award ceremony, correct?” You said louder than you normally spoke.

“Yes, however, due to her health, she will not be at the rehearsal. The award ceremony will start when Her Majesty arrives.” Nanaba pivoted to exit your dressing room, but you spoke before she could leave your sight.

“Nanaba, will you please request to my mother that I would like to start having dinners with her—even if that means I eat at her bedside.” Nanaba’s eyes floated to the ceiling, contemplating your request.

“I will be sure to ask, your Highness,” she said politely and left.

The comforting thought of growing close to your mother warmed your heart. It settled the jealousy that festered within you as Annie combed your hair. A sliver of guilt twinged in your chest of how your mother ached for your presence and longed for a connection with you. At the time, there was only sympathy for the ghost of the relationship that lingered in the air, haunting your mother. But with the change of heart sparked by jealousy and engulfed into compassion, you realized that you craved to be close to her.

Annie parted your hair down the center and tied your hair into a neat bun. When she was done, she set the brush on the white wooden vanity and crossed her arms. You turned your head, examining how slick the bun was and not a single strand escaped.

“Thank you,” you politely said, feeling like you owed Annie. Sasha chose an all-white outfit down to the white boots that were hidden by your white slacks. You wagered with Annie and Sasha, wanting to wear boots to hide your dagger inside. The matching white double-breasted blazer over a white mock neck brought attention to the warmth of your face and the gloss of your hair.

Sasha and Annie trailed behind you and Armin, who followed Lady Nanaba through the endless corridors lined with guards. A few clouds floated over the extravagant City of Mitras and the bright day lifted your spirit, giving you a seed of hope that sprouted and grew with each step. A moment to speak with Hange—to hear their voice was well earned after being apart from them. There was no doubt you were going to have their full attention. You refused to end the day without basking in their presence.

Nanaba escorted you to another small waiting room with four imposing guards standing like statues against the light green walls. They kept a keen eye on you, ensuring your safety and well-being. Two small, slender windows with half the height of the wall framed the dull, tall tower in the distance. Nanaba encouraged you to sit while she disappeared behind another set of doors opposite where you entered. You placed yourself on the plush couch, facing to view the mysterious tower. Armin stood beside the sofa while Annie and Sasha stood next to the door you entered from.

“Hey, Armin?” You spoke barely above a whisper, worried that your voice disturbed the silence that fell.

“Yes, your Highness?” You pointed out one of the windows.

“What’s that tall tower over there and why is it separate from the main area of the castle?” Armin flickered his blue eyes to the view.

“That tower? The First Fritz Tower? It is separate from the rest of the towers because when the first Queen Ymir Fritz had the King and the slaves build the castle, they miscalculated the center of the walls and built that tower. It is so tall you could scream as loud as you want and no one below will hear you; maybe the hospital ward could. Many rendezvous occurred there; however, it is looked down upon to enter.”

“Rendezvous?” You had to stifle a smile that grew from the thought of sneaking off to meet Hange during the late hours of the night. With only the stars to keep your secret and the moonlight illuminating your path. “So there were no guards or knights to catch the people sneaking off?”

“Correct. There are guards in that area of the castle now, but no one enters because it is looked down on.” He repeated and your scheme deflated into a mere fantasy.

Lady Nanaba returned with an older man with a pointy chin dressed in a black clerical robe with gold encircling the collar of his robes. His stern eyes sunk into his skull and his high-strung stature was unwelcoming. Nanaba beckoned you with an enthusiastic hand to approach. The older man remained in his unbreakable stance.

“Your Highness, this is Pastor Nick he will be officiating your marriage with Prince Marco—”

“The walls.” He said and you weren’t sure if you heard right. “The Queen devotes herself to the well-being of the walls hence, you are marrying the walls—Maria, Rose, and Sina and all of the citizens within.”

His insistence lacked a playful tone and the sheer absurdity of his implications of ‘marrying walls’ conjured an amusing image in your mind of you in a white dress and puckering your lips to kiss the concrete of Wall Sina.

“Yes, of course. " You looked to Nanaba, hoping she would gracefully contribute to the conversation, but her downturned eyes observed you and Pastor Nick with no intention of joining. “I look forward to my marriage to the citizens and dedicate my loyalty to the well-being of the citizens of Paradis Island.”

He seemed pleased, and you were pleased with the formality of your declaration as well. A union between you and the citizens within the walls seemed far more fulfilling than marrying a man.

You, Sasha, Annie, and Armin followed Nanaba and Pastor Nick down a short, windowless corridor. Muffled chatter echoed from behind the doors and your heart brimmed with anticipation. Just behind that door was Hange.

When Nanaba cracked the door, a sliver of light and a crescendo of conversations spilled into the hall. A vast sea of guards dressed in military robes drowned the clean rectangular hall. As you entered the threshold, voices died down and faces drew their attention to you. Most of them were unrecognizable and their burly figures gave the illusion that most of your vision was filled with grey double-breasted coats with silver epaulets. Your eyes darted around, searching between the columns along the room's perimeter and the grey uniforms for a green coat. Simultaneously, the knights in the room stood tall and stamped their feet together while pressing their right fists over their hearts. Their undying respect settled in the silence, greeting your presence. With the castle guards still like statues, two green uniforms caught your eye to the right. Hange stood behind a podium upon a raised platform and next to them was Levi. Hange had their hair tied back and their warmth contagiously ignited a spark in your chest and a flutter in your stomach.

An older man stepped toward you. His heavy footsteps on the light blue tile demanded your attention. He had greying facial hair and glasses perched on his big nose.

“Your Highness,” He said with a deep voice while bowing his head and revealing his receding hairline. “I am Premier Darius Zachary.”

“Your Highness, Premier Zachary is the Head of the Royal King’s Guard and The Scout Regiment.” Lady Nanaba said.

“Pleased to meet you,” you offered him a polite smile and drifted your eyes to where Hange stood. He offered his thick arm, beckoning you to join him.

While Premier Zachary informed you on the structure of the award ceremony, he led you toward the platform where Hange stood. His voice withered in the background while the desire for Hange’s voice polluted your thoughts. The room returned to chatting while inconspicuously glancing at you and Premier Zachary. Hange looked down at the podium, scanning their eyes and mouthing words. The three large windows behind them framed the blue sky, making their green coat bold and saturated. Their coat complemented their dark brown hair, drawing your eyes to their face. Hange peeked at you, fueling the burn inside you.

Hange was like fire, captivating and luring you to stare. A flame so gravitating it burned through your layers and left you with nothing but a primal instinct to surrender your eyes. A flame, bright and mesmerizing, compelling you to follow them in the darkness.

After an hour of rehearsing the transitions between the segments of the award ceremony, members of the court arrived. They strolled in with vibrant gowns and men in flattering suits. They stood behind the rows of guards, chatted among themselves, and glanced at you from where you sat in one of the three thrones. Red and green flags with insignias of the Royal Family and the Royal King’s Guard hung from the ceiling.

Armin stood next to you while Commander Erwin Smith, Captain Levi, and Commander Dame Hange had their backs toward you as they stood silently at the base of the steps. Connie, Eren, Niccolo, Miche, Daz and Fairy Godmothers Christa and Ymir stood in the front row silently. Your leg bounced up and down, wondering when the Queen and her King would arrive. You were told to sit until you were part of the ceremony, and people-watching was the only thing you could do while waiting.

Sasha and Annie stood patiently against the wall off to the far left and the wait for your parents started to plant seeds of doubt. More time passed, and annoyance grew with the fact that the Queen and her King had not arrived yet. The court whispered among themselves, speculating why Their Majesties were late.

Your thoughts drifted off to Hange. Each time you looked toward Hange during the rehearsal, they were already admiring you. Their fond stare simmered in your memory and you couldn’t help but blush. You lowered your head, hiding your face and the heat that grazed your skin.

Earlier, when Hange kissed the back of your hand upon greeting you, their lips pricked and poisoned you. Their touch embedded a drug that hardwired you to succumb to their will and obey their commands, and you wanted to do nothing else but please them.

While Premier Zachary instructed you with the medals, you could feel Hange’s eye on you and the magnetic demand that lured your souls to want to be close. They ached and begged to be intertwined. Your mind and soul pestered you to get more attention from Hange. It teased you the way you had Hange’s professional attention and yet were unable to have a private conversation.

A door on the side opened and the room went silent. The King, followed by a group of knights and one knight with red hair, who you recognized, strolled into the room. Everyone seemed to stand straighter and lend their attention to him.

You furrowed your eyebrows, wondering if your ill mother would enter through the door, but it was the King and his guards. Your heart pounded in anticipation, wondering if she would arrive, and the image of her dull skin stretched over her bony cheekbones and hollow face flashed in your mind. She must have been too sick to be able to attend.

The King whispered in Premier Zachary’s ear and then stepped up upon the platform without sparing a look at you. You couldn’t read his face, but he didn’t seem distraught or fazed. He stood behind the podium and took a deep breath. Everyone pridefully brought their fist to their heart.

“Good afternoon,” The King’s voice echoed through the room. “On behalf of Her Royal Majesty, I thank you for witnessing this monumental ceremony honoring the knights who have dedicated their hearts to return the Princess to Mitras Castle.” He took a breath. “I would like to invite Premier Zachary.” He simply said and the room applauded his opening remark. The King caught your eye as he turned to sit on the throne next to you. He had a friendly expression and hope flooded your chest and you gave him a large smile, enjoying his polite attention.

Premier Zachary heftily stepped up the stairs to the podium and passed the table with the awards laid out. He cleared his throat and you glanced at Erwin, Hange, and Levi. It was amusing how Erwin and Hange towered over Levi.

“Knights formally pledge an oath upon graduating from the Cadet Corps and being inducted into the Scout Regiment.” Premier Zachary began the speech you heard twice earlier. “In the oath, one of the key vows that the Knights commit is to have ‘relentless courage.’ This was the inaugural vow penned by our First Queen, Ymir Fritz when she established the pledge. When Knights are inducted into The Royal King’s Guard, they recite the traditional oath, augmented by an additional commitment: to lay down their lives and dedicate their hearts to this nation's sovereign.

“Today, we honor and commemorate the Knights who bravely sacrificed their lives confronting the horrors of our world, as well as those who dedicated their hearts to safely returning Her Highness to Mitras Castle.”

Premier Zachary continued his speech, talking about how the knights defeated the enemies and you noticed he never forwardly said “Marleyan Cult.” He refrained from addressing the name, preferring not to highlight the significant power they had in claiming the lives of numerous knights.

You noticed a familiar man with dark hair among the crowd and recognized the man. Prince Marco and his guards were in the front section of the court. You darted your eyes away and your heart thumped in your chest. You wanted to pretend you didn’t see Prince Marco Bodt in the crowd.

“I now invite the Knights to please kneel before the King, Her Highness, and myself.” Premier Zachary said and it was your cue to stand from the velvet red throne. The knights in the front and Levi and Hange gathered in their designated spots on the steps. Footsteps shuffled and echoed through the room and you could feel all eyes on you as you grabbed the first medal from the wooden table.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we are honored to present the first medal today for outstanding contributions to technological advancement. This award recognizes the creator of the sapphire shields, a pioneering technology that has significantly enhanced our protection against fire. With the help of this technology, this individual defeated a powerful enemy. Please join me in applauding the recipient of the Sapphire Heart to Commander Dame Hange Zoe.” The room burst into applause, and you pinned a gold medal with the insignia of the Royal Family, which was held by a vibrant blue ribbon on Hange’s green military coat. Your hands shook being so close to Hange and you couldn’t ignore their stare. Hange kissed the back of your hand and you bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide the thrill from their touch.

“The next medal is bestowed upon an individual who exemplified extraordinary valor and courageously positioned themselves in the direct line of danger to shield the heir to the throne. Their heroic deeds not only ensured the safety of our future ruler, but also served as a profound inspiration to their fellow soldiers. Please join me in applauding the recipient of the Gold Shield to Captain Levi Ackerman.” You pinned a gold medal with a white ribbon to Levi’s coat and he kissed your hand like a gentleman.

“In recognition of their successful completion of a critical mission, we are proud to award the Knights that kneel before the King, Her Highness, and myself an emerald pendant. This esteemed token symbolizes their undying commitment. We honor their bravery and service as we present these awards to Commander Hange Zoe, Captain Levi Ackerman, Commander Miche Zacharius, Eren Yeager, Connie Springer, Daz, and Niccolo. We must also recognize Jean Kirstein, who unfortunately cannot be with us. Currently recovering in the hospital, we wish a healthy recovery for Jean Kirstein and we look forward to celebrating his achievements with him at a later date.” As Hange leaned forward to allow you to place the bolo tie, you noticed the gold chain of the swan locket wrapped along their neck. It sent a satisfying jolt through you to know Hange still wore their necklace.

You followed the advice Premier Zachary gave during rehearsal while placing the bolo tie with the oval emerald pendant around the knights. He advised you to take your time during this segment, allowing each knight to have a moment to be honored. It felt like you and everyone else were frozen in time as you moved from the table to each of the knights. You avoided glancing at the crowd, not wanting to break the mental barrier that shielded the reality of everyone’s eyes on you.

There was a heavy lingering feeling as you awarded each knight. An undying gratitude for the well-being of these humans who protected you and rescued you. Your heart swelled at the bonds you formed during the journey and trials you faced together. These knights deserved your trust and loyalty and had a spot in your heart.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this next medal represents profound respect and demonstrates resilience during the mission. This medal recognizes the individuals who sustained physical injuries sustained in battle but also honors the spirit of sacrifice. Please join me in applauding the recipients of the Purple Heart to Commander Miche Zacharius, who served his rotation in the First Knight position. Another recipient to recognize is Jean Kirstein. As I said before, Jean Kirstein, unfortunately, cannot be with us.” You pinned a gold medal with a purple ribbon upon Miche, who kissed your hand charmingly and held his cane in the other hand.

“The final medal we present today honors not only the brave knights kneeling before the King, Her Highness, and myself but also those who are no longer with us. Their legacies continue to inspire courage to dedicate their hearts. In addition to today's honors, we will build a memorial to honor the brave knights. A plaque will permanently etch the one hundred and ninety-two names of the fallen. It will be prominently displayed as a reminder of the hearts they dedicated for the future of the Kingdom. Please join me in applauding the recipients of the Steel Heart to the knights whose legacies we honor and to the knights kneeling before the King, Her Highness, and myself.” The applause was the loudest of the entire ceremony. It continued the length of you pinning the silver medal with a white ribbon on the knights’ uniforms.

After your duties, the knights returned to their positions in the front row and you returned to your throne. While you glanced at the King, you noticed his expression was softer while he looked at you. He gave you a respectful nod and upon his approval, you offered a graceful curtsy. You hoped after the award ceremony, you would be able to speak to your father.

Hange stepped behind the podium and waited for the applause to simmer down. When the room fell to silence, Hange’s voice projected through the room.

“I, Hange Zoe, Commander of the successful mission, will now read the names of the knights who sacrificed their lives during battle. I ask for your patience as I read one hundred and ninety-two names of the knights. At the end, we will respect the knights whose legacies and memories we will carry with a brief moment of silence.”

━━ ⊱ ⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆ ♡ ⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ ⊰ ━━

After the award ceremony concluded with Commander Erwin Smith’s closing speech, your father and his guards walked out the door without acknowledging you. You watched the door close behind his guards and your face fell as the opportunity to grow close to him disappeared before you could try.

The hall sprung into a commotion as guards and members of the court congratulated the knights. You looked to Armin beside you, wondering what to do. Armin attentively stared at you, watching for you to stroll and socialize around the room. His eyes drifted next to you, looking past you. You turned over your shoulder to see Daz. When he had your attention, he placed a fist over his heart and respectfully bowed his head.

“Your Highness,” He spoke. “We have not gotten a chance to speak.”

“Daz, may I give you a hug?” He opened his arms. You carefully laid your face against him, avoiding getting the makeup on his uniform. “I’ve been wanting to thank you for bringing Jean to Mitras Castle. It must have been terrifying being on your own, along with having someone unconscious.”

“It wasn’t too bad.” Daz pulled away. “I did have to do everything on my own, which is extra work, but overall, we managed to get to the castle.”

“You’re so brave . . .” You gently grabbed his hand and held it comfortingly. “Not many people could do that. I couldn’t travel by myself and with an injured person. Thank goodness I had you and the rest of the knights. Seriously, Daz, thank you.”

“It was an honor to escort you . . . most of the way to Mitras Castle.” He laughed at his own joke and you giggled. “It’s not hard to travel, especially since most of my travel was north. I followed the north star to the southern entrance of the castle.”

“I forgot you were into stars and stuff!” You gushed with excitement. It was quite intriguing how the stars in the sky had ways to help. You recalled the night you first saw Willy Tybur in a suit of armor covered in blood. After you woke everyone up and an investigation started, Levi mentioned Daz was going to try to find a clear view of the sky so he could figure out the time by the position of the stars. “It’s fascinating how you could tell the time of night based on the position of the stars!”

“You think that’s ‘fascinating’? I could teach you.”

“Yes, please!”

“If you think that is cool, do you know what a solar eclipse is?”

“No . . . ?”

“You’re going to like this. In a few new moons, the moon will cross in front of the sun and block the light for the Earth. The thing is during this upcoming solar eclipse, Mitras Castle and the city will be in the path of totality. The world will briefly go dark for us like it’s midnight!” His eyebrows were raised and his eyes were twice their size due to his enthusiasm.

“That is cool!”

“Exactly! This phenomenon is extraordinary and it’s wonderful we get to experience it soon.”

“Please, Daz, I would love to learn more and speak with you about the stars and the solar eclipse! Would you like to have tea in the garden sometime? Or wherever would be good to talk about the stars.”

“We could meet in the library in the astronomy section sometime?” He smiled at you. You turned to Armin with excitement and then returned your attention to Daz.

“That sounds great!” You exclaimed excitedly.

Across the ceremonial hall, Hange huddled along with Levi and Miche. They spoke enthusiastically, waving their hands at the rhythm of their words and they had an adorable blaze in their eye—a spark that compelled you closer. Their amusing way of speaking warmed your heart.

Hange’s brown eye landed on you and Armin, making your heart swell as they abruptly stopped their conversation and gave you their full attention. Miche and Levi turned over their shoulder to see you. Hange briskly went toward you. Their brown hair was shinier and a pink tint spread across their cheeks. Your heart pounded as they held their arms open for you.

Without a care in the world and you sprang on to Hange and they wrapped their arms around you, challenging anyone who dared to take you away from their embrace. The dangers of the past and the responsibilities for the future burned to a crisp with the engulfing flames of Hange’s presence.

Their warmth contagiously spread to the shivering soul that longed for comfort. You breathed out the stress and the humiliation of the recent days and settled in Hange’s arms. They pulled away and you greedily wanted to be held longer. If Hange’s soul was like fire and you’d happily burn in the heat.

“Hey . . .” Hange said under their breath, and a moment passed when their gaze entranced you, and then you spoke.

“Hi . . .”

“You did wonderful in the ceremony, Y/N,” Hange complimented. “And your ladies in waiting dressed you very well.” They didn’t hide their lingering admiration for the elegant white slacks and blazer. Hange’s eye traced each surface of your body all the way back up to your beaming smile and pretty eyes.

“Thank you, Hange . . .”

“You did very well during the ceremony, your Highness.”

“I missed you, Hange.”

“I missed you too, dear,” they whispered, and their reassurance nested a bed for peace to rest in your thoughts.

“I miss my best friend. I’ve been wanting to see you—”

“Let’s plan to meet, Y/N,” their mutual enthusiasm brought a burst of joy. The daydreams of meeting Hange secretly in the garden at midnight or meeting Hange in the First Fritz Tower were on the verge of reality. A private moment with them was all you wanted.

“We have to! I still have the shirt you lent me.” Hange smirked.

“Oh yeah? Why haven’t you sent a servant to deliver my clothes? Or are you secretly being a weirdo and smelling my shirt?” You slapped their arm and—

“Your Highness, you shouldn’t hit others.” Armin’s voice ripped you back into reality where you and Hange stood in a crowded room with knights, military representatives, and Prince Marco Bodt—wherever he may be. You glared at Armin.

“Let’s meet tomorrow. I’ll take the entire day off and I’ll tell you how I sent the blueprint to Stohess and I should receive a prototype soon.”

“Can we have breakfast together?” You were practically hopping, unable to contain the excitement of getting what you’ve been wanting. “I’ve been eating all by myself! The King eats with the Queen in the hospice chambers, so I am all alone.”

“We can have not only breakfast together but lunch and dinner!” Hange nudged you. A set of doors brushed open, with Nanaba entering hastily.

“Would you like to have tea in the garden? Armin took me to the Rockefeller Garden and he said the Korcula Garden was the best place to have tea.”

“He’s right. You’d like the Korcula Garden, Y/N. There are plenty and beautiful flowers we can look at when we’re done catching up.” Your heart fluttered at the thought of Hange thinking of all the things you would enjoy. They thought about you as much as you did for them. “How are you treating Armin? Have you been giving him a hard time?” Hange playfully asked and glanced at Armin next to you.

“Rai doesn’t like him!” You giggled and Armin stared helplessly as the truth set in that an adorable bunny didn’t like him. Hange joined your giggling and their contagious nature made both of you grow into a fit of laughter while Armin stood silently. Hange’s eye glossed over and they wiped the tears that formed while you caught your breath from being unable to breathe.

“Why not?!” Hange asked and their face was flushed.

“I don’t know! She stands on her hind legs and taps the shins of Armin’s armor, trying to attack him. She’s more adorable than ferocious!” Nanaba cleared her throat next to you. Her eyes were wide and she had droplets of sweat along her hairline. Her mouth agape as if she were going to speak, but the words struggled to leave her lips.

By her high-strung demeanor, the joy was sucked out of the room and an ache in your chest returned. Lady Nanaba looked between you, Hange, and Armin and the chatter in the ceremony hall faded into the background with her words.

“You need to come with me.” She urged and annoyance tricked in.

“Do I have to?” You whined and bargained hopelessly, knowing Nanaba would force you to do whatever was next on the schedule.

“Your Majesty . . .” Hange and Armin simultaneously gasped at how Nanaba addressed you. Hange brought a hand over their mouth and their eyebrows shot to their hairline. “You need to come with me.”

chapter index masterlist

#hange x reader #hanji zoe #hange zoe #hanji x reader #hange x you #hanji zoë #hange zoë #attack on titan #aot

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inkedmoth · 12 days ago

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WIP Tag Game

@esta-elavaris tagged whoever wanted to play and I am always down to clown!

Rules: You will be given a word. Then you share one sentence/excerpt from your WIP(s) that starts with each letter of your word!

This looked SO fun and immediately became "oh my god I can't find a single paragraph starting with these letters" so now I'm gonna inflict this suffering on others!

Word Esta gave:

CHOICE

C – Chapter 8 from Hell or High Water

Curls of hair framed her face, and even with the stain of sweat and orc blood, she gleamed golden in the low light of his washroom. Thorongil’s breath hitched, heart lurching along with it. Rhysnuar’s aqua blue eyes were scarcely inches from his own, widening slightly in surprise at their proximity, her breath feathering across his lips and jaw as she exhaled shakily. He could only watch in growing alarm, as her cheeks flushed, and her eyes dropped to his lips. With a mental yank, Thorongil turned his head to the side, breaking eye contact and shattering whatever moment had threatened to happen between them. Rhysnuar seemed to jolt at his reaction, eyes darting away and face beginning to redden as she pushed back away from him.

H – Chapter 1 of the the Falconer AU I’m yet to post

Had Rhosynel’s words gotten through to him? Hopefully. “Fine,” Boromir muttered, and relief flooded through her. “One more kiss?” By the Valar the Captain was bargaining with her. Technically Rhosynel should say no, should decline, should push him away with some blithe comment. She’d stolen his purse, lead him on, gotten into a scrap with his men, then broken into his quarters to return that damned purse. And then, to top it all off, been caught by the same man she’d been trying to avoid. For all sense and purposes, Rhosynel should decline, and then leave. Quickly. Before his tipsy-drunkenness wore off, and he decided to arrest her instead. But it wasn’t the word ‘no’ that left her mouth. “One.”

O – O is a hard one to find, but here’s a snippet from the impulsive Healer AU one-shot

One of his hands moved, skimming up Rhosynel’s back, along her spine, to settle at the nape of her neck. The simple motion had goosebumps rippling in its wake, had her dragging in a shaky breath, all but arching into the gentle touch as her eyes fell half shut. It was entirely unsurprising when Boromir’s lips sought out hers in turn. Soft, cautious, gentle in their movement, not forcing her to follow his lead but more than welcoming as her head tilted to allow better access. His fingers trailed through the fine hair at the base of her skull, toying with the stands that had broken free from her practical bun. The feather light touch had a shiver running through her body, and Rhosynel exhaled shakily against Boromir’s lips.

I – Inked Stained Quills (A smut one shot I’m too cowardly to post)

“I was doing, my best, to help,” she retorted between gasps for breath, forearms braced against the desk, as her back arched against him. “But you’re more interested in making a mess of your desk!” “Fuck the desk.” “Not me?” Rhosynel asked being deliberately obtuse. “Then I better leave you two alo—” The noise that left Boromir’s throat was little more than a snarl, and Rhosynel had the feeling he was done with her games. A feeling, which was immediately confirmed, by the fact he lurched to his feet, gripped her hips, and with an alarming amount of strength, flipped her around. Rhosynel’s back slammed down onto the desktop, barely padded by the parchments he’d piled up during the day, closely followed by Boromir’s forearms bracketing her head.

C – From Chapter 46 of On Swift Wings

Cut by her own fucking sword. Already she could feel the hot rivulets of blood, could feel it soaking her hand and making the grip on her blade precarious. The Uruk was snarling, teeth bared, free hand pressed to its throat, but it was unsteady on its feet. Almost as unsteady as herself. She could use that. It lunged, and she shifted to the side, her own blade skimming past her. Rhosynel seized the Uruk’s wrist, twisted into its space till her shoulders struck its chest, and then heaved.

E – A certain something planned for Hell or High Water 👀

“Either let me leave… or invite me to stay.” His eyes were roving across her face, far too keenly, far too intently. Whatever he was looking for, Thorongil must have found it, as he nodded slightly to himself, and his hands left the door. It seemed he’d made his choice. A distraction would have been pleasant, but apparently, not to be. Tension drained from Rhysnuar’s shoulders with a quiet sigh, resigning herself to a night of lonely restlessness, of anxieties, of fears over what the future may bring. What he said next, however, drove that from her mind. “Stay.” The word was murmured softly, as Thorongil’s fingers traced across her jaw and he closed the gap between them.

Tagging @erathene @fishing4stars and @maccreadysbaby and giving you the word

SWIFT

good luck 😂

#moth fic #tag game #on swift wings #hell or high water #falconer au #healer au #the abrupt realisation I have a pair of one shots I could have looked through too #oh well too late

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impossibleprincess35 · 11 months ago

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[WIP Wednesday] "The Echo and the Stain"

An excerpt from the next chapter of my Obi-Wan/Satine year on the run fic:

When he turned back to face her and shook off a bit of fatigue from his body, lowering back into position, Obi-Wan could see Satine’s nostrils flare with anger as she was hovering in place, rocking on the balls of her feet, waiting to pounce.

She headed right into the fight and threw an aggressive right hook at his face. He dodged it and grasped her right arm before it lowered back to her side, twisting it behind her so that the movement forced her to turn with her back to him. He held her arm against her lower back, tightly, feeling her squirm under his control.

In the stance, Satine still held power and Obi-Wan knew this and refused to disable her completely. His feet were in a wide stance, and he expected her to slide one of her legs in a swift motion to knock him off balance, bringing him to the ground in a breathless tumble. He was surprised when instead, feeling her labored breathing on her front side, her free arm reached up and he felt her hand grasp the side of his head. Like a reflex, his other hand reached for her front side, coming to rest on the flat plane of her lower abdomen.

Their pulses racing and their skin aflame with passion and adrenaline, they both remained still and seconds passed like agonizing minutes.

Satine’s fingers were damp from the sweat of his hair as she stroked his skull, and in return, Obi-Wan’s palm inched down to her navel. His mouth grew close to her ear where she could feel his breath against her skin, and when his grip on her arm at the small of her back tightened as he yanked her back against his front, she moaned softly and he found himself turned on at the sound.

It was innocent and debauched all at once, and he wanted to ruin her and protect her all at the same time. The way his hand rested against her was unlike the way he had helped her swim on Takodana, or unlike how he had carried her to safety on Malastare. This was not a purposeful claim on her body to keep her afloat or hold her close for safety. This was selfish and needy and possessive, and his mouth trembled with the desire to kiss her upon her neck and taste her, as her skin glistened with sweat from her exertion.

Suddenly, Satine turned around as his grip on her arm had grown weak and the flushed cheeks of her own desires gave her away. Her pupils dilated as she stared back at him, and her lips parted just the slightest amount, longing to be kissed by him.

“I think we should talk,” Obi-Wan said slowly, softly, as he reached for her hands where they rested at her sides.

But the tenderness she displayed one moment began to disappear the next, as Satine tempered her emotions and refused to acknowledge the longing that she felt. Instead, she shook his hands away from her own and stepped back to glare up at him from between her fists as she positioned them before her and muttered, “Finish the fight first.”

Woooooooo.. anyway. :)

#the echo and the stain #wip wednesday #obitine #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #duchess satine #year on the run

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shade-without-color · 2 years ago

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Warmth

Note: So yeah I have been down with Covid, which has not been the best- but I have to make lemonade out of lemons, and recently @serial-doubters-club gave me a plot bunny idea which I am naming this Midokirin AU as 'For the earth crumbles, and where life sprouts by', which is a reverse Hades/Propsherne AU, which I would let you discover that, and I am craving for pregnancy reveal stuff, so enjoy this little plot thingie

In the darkness- Kirinmaru noticed Midoriko being so quiet, like as if a force stole her voice, instead she grumbled about her stomach twisting and turning, quickly covering herself with the sheets to find a small corner to throw out the contents, quickly Kirinmaru ran over, only combing her hair to a bun.

“Are you alright, my flower…”

Midoriko quietly rubbed the remaining vomit out of her mouth, repulsed by the acid building in her stomach. “I do not know, I…I….I….” Kirinmaru’s eyes softened at his beloved. “We will be alright….”, gently he lifted her up- which Midoriko felt ashamed that a powerful force like death came crumbling down like foals unsteady in their feet. He lovingly formed a small band out of his hands to tie her hair up, only rubbing small circles in her back to comfort her. “Do as you must….”

That night was a treacherous one, and Kirinmaru felt helpless at this silence, to see his Death suffered terribly.

And he desired the answers right now.

After Midoriko expel all contents, Kirinmaru quietly tucked her to bed, only giving a soft kiss on the forehead, allowing her to lay down in bed, only seeing her hand trace to her stomach. He quietly closed his eyes, allowing himself to transpire to another land, to see a beautiful palace where spring seems so eternal, and the one sitting on the bench is no other than his friend, Toga who is playing her lyre. “Prince of the Underworld, you finally came- sick of the darkness from Midoriko’s caves? It is nice that you remain so ever cheerful….”

“Well my cousin Mayonaka, I am afraid to ask him questions about gestating bodies, for he is conservative but instead I shall ask you…..”

Toga raised his eyebrows. “Go on….”, dropping his lyre, allowing Kirinmaru to sit down at his side. “I worry about my wife, Midoriko, my death- I noticed she has been irritable, all of her souls tremble and at nights, she tend to expel the contents of her stomach…Like she is conflicted…..I….I…”

“Since you descend down to the Underworld, o Prince, did you know….” Toga made a lewd gesture of a middle finger. Kirinmaru quietly thought of the passionate nights they have- without them speaking a word of missing each other’s presence, The only memory that burned in his brain, is that she screamed her name over and again.

“Yes….”

Toga gave a smug grin. “Perhaps, you express that carnal passions which is a worthy sacrifice to the goddess of love- that you manifest…you know….”

Kirinmaru thought to himself, he is used to see animals procreating secretly as a child, curious how they birth life- though he was sent away by his mother and father for seeing lewd matters. And by next spring, he watched the baby animals followed their parents. Then a thought came in mind, as he recalled that reasoning to his cousin Mayonaka that someday the fruit of their love soon bloom.

“And that result is….”

Without Toga finishing his word, Kirinmaru slowly allow the vines to wrap him and rot came over his body. The last thing Toga could glimpse of his friend was a curious gaze, and determination to find its truth. 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸 Kirinmaru ran over the long winding caves to see Midoriko sobbing miserably, covering her face in shame, her hair in disarray and her clothes stained with sweat.

‘DAMN IT KIRINMARU! DAMNIT KIRINMARU, DAMN IT”

“My flower….” He gently cupped her face gently, only giving her forehead kisses. “I…” He tried to touch her shoulders to see her wincing in pain. “DAMN IT YOU KNOW I HATE TO BE….”

“It…it…..” Kirinmaru allow Midoriko to cry over her shoulder, allowing her tears to stain his clothes. “Sh…sh….sh…I…” Kirinmaru felt a force that grown within her, a warmth that comfort both.

“One moment, let’s go to the spring to wash away those tears, my flower, it should calm you down….”

Quietly he held Midoriko, bridal style to see the souls of the dead frolic in their lands, unaware that Kirinmaru’s feet has grown little flowers in his path. He knew a secret spring that the dead grew unaware of, which he allow his death to strip her clothes to only dip in the cold waters, which she heaved a sigh of relief. He quietly observed her bathing in the springs, noticing her continuously wincing at her sore breasts. “I….I….do not know why, I feel so tired….and my…..”

“Yes, my flower…”

Midoriko smiled sheepishly. “My bleeds, they cease since you…came back…and….” Quietly that advice clicked with Kirinmaru. “I…..I…. Felt something grew within me, it feels like you…” Quietly she cupped her stomach, trying to feel that warmth of that…

That….

Midoriko found herself crying at that spot.

Kirinmaru smiled quietly. “We are indeed blessed…”

#writing #writers on tumblr #Spilled ink #Midokirin #kirinmaru #Midoriko #inuyasha fanfiction #Inuyasha #drabble #hades x persephone #greek myth au

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killslumflower · 1 year ago

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HONEY PART ONE: “sweet like honey, slow like molasses.”

↝ NOW PLAYING [ green eyes by erykah badu ]

1:07 ——◦———— -10:05

↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

ᴠᴏʟᴜᴍᴇ : ▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮▮

“C’mon killmonger what better do you have to do?” Klaues pale body was lax against the frame of Erik’s door, his blue eyes hazy, a soft pink color around the irises tinting into red. He was tipsy, Erik knew he shouldn’t have opened the door, He expected something important. But alas, Klaue lived up to his reputation of being nothing more than a stain. The question lingered in the air for a second, before klaue slumped forward, flinging a hand at Eriks left shoulder, “Linda?” He croaked out, doubling over until his forehead touching the apex of Eriks chest His body tensed, rigid against Klaues touch

one

klaue croaked out a wheezing of laughter, and Erik’s jaw clenched

Two

Erik could feel the trickle of klaues sweat through the thin material of his grey shirt

Three

He could smell the 1800 wafting from his pores, Klaue never learned he would have thought their last job in Kabul taught him, the terror of that mission still gave Erik nightmares

Four

“I’ll come.”

The words fell from his mouth faster than he could stop them but it was enough To get Klaues hunched stature perked up, his eyes meeting Erik’s “atta boy!” He clasped his hand down on his shoulder in a pat, a snarky smile wide on his face. Erik peeled the man’s hand off of him

“give me 5.”

streaks of fluorescent violet light danced over the sepia hue of his skin, Erik was swimming through his second Hennessy on the rocks and floating with the current of quartet on stage “nice isn’t it?” the pungent smell of whiskey on klaues foresaken tongue snatched him away from relaxation, and back to the reality he exhaled sweet smoke from a 1942 Gurkha Black dragon cigar klaue’s finest collection, the smoke from bitter Tabacoo made the air in the compacted club, thick but erik didn’t care the liquor and the smooth sounds of jazz relaxed him. He wouldn’t give klaue the gratification of admitting the place was more than nice, he was expecting some grimey casino with half naked blondes and brunettes instead klaue had taken him to a local speakeasy, a small quaint black owned jazz spot. Line music, and the only pale skin in sight was Klaue’s own flushed tone. He was a stain on this place, and Erik was almost embarrassed to be seen with him.

Although Nobody else seemed to care,

“Would you like another fill sir?”

The waitress was back again, a cinnamon toned beauty with eccentric Fulani braids, her question was aimed towards klaue

“yes please amour.”

His attempt to flirt with the young lady were failing poorly, he knew that for sure. Yet she plastered a smile anyway, one that read give me a big tip. She took Klaues glass into her white stiletto acrylics placed it on her silver platter and quickly reverted her attention to Erik, she was undressing him with her eyes. She was cute, but he was in no mood for fucking.

“And how about you?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

He stated with a small half smile, she reached for his glass and placed it next to Klaues batting her mink lashes at him slowly

“Well..you let me know if you need anything.”

Her voice was sultry, she held his gaze for longer than needed

“I said I’m good sweetheart.”

He purposely added emphasis on good, so she would get the hint, she did and she quickly scurried to retrieve Klaues drink.

His eyes fell back on the stage, the quartet was nearing the a comfortable end to their set he could tell by the slow of instrumental, sure enough within the next minute the sweet sounds were at a hault, the small room was then filled with a roaring applause in which he joined gracefully he really hadn’t remembered the last time he had allowed music to take him away. The announcer entered again, q middle aged black man with slick hair and a crisp black tuxedo at the mic

“That was the smooth sounds of clarity..”

another roar from the applause

“I don’t know about y’all but my vision is all clear.”

The Corny joke actually made Erik smile

“This next act is all about the heart though..y’all please help me give a warm welcome to the flow of this here place.”

“Esscence.”

The roar seemed to amp in volume, he heard dog whistles and cheers. Whoever was next, was definitely a regular and a favorite it seemed.

The quartet didn’t move an inch, they must be an accompaniment

Suddenly a sight of glimmer broke into his sight as a gorgeous woman entered stage left, her dark brown tone seemed to shine under the lights of the stage. She wore a big white head wrap erykah badu style, and a crocheted earth tone skirt with a matching brown top. As she turned to face the stage, damn She was stunning, her skin was dark as fresh soil and her sleek features resembled the women of his fathers home country, that beauty he never thought he’d witness up close, with a set of piercing hazel eyes. She held a small smile as the cheers never seemed to end, he joined. Giving a whistle of his own, and it made her smile grow showing all her bright white teeth.

She closed her eyes, standing completely still for a moment as to gain her composure, the noise seemed to quiet down. And as she opened her eyes, her body began to sway slowly, to her own rhythm as she hummed lowly.

The quartet started again, but only the keys with a skipping beat

He knew the melody all too well, the song was a classic from Erykah badu’s sophomore album, one his mother played on repeat in their home all the time. And this track..”green eyes.” never ceased from their walls after his father was taken away from them..it brought back a feeling he couldn’t describe.

[play track here]

She began

“my eyes are green..”

she released the sweetest sound by far, a smooth alto tone, a drastic difference from Erykah’s mezzo soprano tone on the track, but it blended so nicely with the set, it instantly had him hooked.

“Cuz I eats a lot of vegetables..It don’t have nothin’ to do with your new Friend.”

She swayed again pointing to someone in the crowd who blew her back a kiss,

“My

eyes

are

green..”

The saxophone peaked, joining in with the melody

“Cuz I Eats a lot of vegetables.”

“It don’t

have nothing to do

with your new friend..”

“I don’t care..I swear.”

“I’m too through with you I am.”

“You don’t mean nothing, to me..

So go ahead and be with your friend.”

A pause in the keys as they slowed,

“My eyes are green..”

A peak in saxophone

“Cuz I eats a lot of vegetables.”

“It

don’t

have

nothin’

with

your

new..”

the saxophone faded out and the keys began to play a slower melody, then a break a pause small enough you wouldn’t even catch if it wasn’t for her voice halting, was it over? God he hoped not..

Her head fell slowly forward, until her forehead touched the mic, she cradled it in her hand smooth black stilettos grasping the base of it. As nothing but her slow deliberate breaths were to be heard, his attention was hanging on to each note she made with her voice. He felt like he was on the edge of his seat,

“Friend.”

She held the note, she carried it letting it ride, amping in volume from a soft tone to a louder one as The keys came back smoother than before, as the other instruments began to join in a key change

her head raised ever so slightly until her face was visible to the crowd,

“Im insecure..”

Her eyes peeled opened, and he exhaled not even realizing he was holding his breath.

“But I can’t help it..”

With every word she sang, a spell seemed to be casting over him. It was like a trance he couldn’t explain, and he felt the same energy throughout the quaint space. But his vision was tunneled, all he could focus on was the performance she put on before him.

“My mind..says move on,

my heart lags behind.”

Her head fell to the right

“But I don’t love you anymore..

I’m so insecure

Never knew that love did this..”

A flute began to join, over the chorus then to the left, as her body began to move with the sounds of the quartet her eyes closed again as she lost herself in the rhythm

“Ouuuu..ouuu..ouuu..”

The way she carried the sound, made it drift even when she dropped out, the way she made it dance in the minds of who listened. It was like a spark,

“Ouuu..ouuu..ouuu..”

Each time she held it, it was like a strike from a match to its box

“I can’t remember,

The last time I

Felt this way about somebody..”

Her eyes opened, her eyes holding his and the flame started, engulfing him in a blaze of passion, he could feel his slacks grow tighter around his groin,

damn the Hennessy, he always got the same reaction when he drunk it. But he didn’t move an inch to adjust himself, her voice keeping him frozen, illuminating the fire to burn in his chest he was stuck in her groove,

“You’ve done something to my mind

And I can’t control it..”

She sung of a broken heart, that he hadn’t caused yet

“But I don’t love you anymore.”

Her eyes flickered away, and onto the rest of the crowd,

“Yes I do I think..”

“Loving you is wrong.”

“Ouu ouuu ouuu,

ouuu ouuu ouuu..”

“La di da..”

She began to scat

skipping like the

beat of his heart

“dum di..da da..

dum di da..di da..

Dum di da di da…”

She slowed, An unwritten part of the song breaking as the quartet picked up behind her, Until each instrument broke away,

Off until it was only keys, a slow harmony that she joined in a hum until They slowed into a stop.

It was over

And before anything else could be said,

Erik jumped to his feet, and began to clap loudly, he didn’t know if it was the liquor, the memory of his mother weeping silently to the chords of this track back home, or her performance but a tear that he couldn’t stop streaked down his face,

Behind him A loud chorus from the crowd amped like never before, as they gave her a much deserved ovation She smiled, all teeth her eyes on his again, she blew a kiss his way and bowed

As the velvet tattered curtains began to draw, until her and the quarter were out of site, the applause didn’t stop though. They slowed until Erik was the last one left clapping, he didn’t really give a damn that people were looking at him crazy. He wanted her to hear how good she was, he didn’t stop until klaue began to pull on his shoulder to sit him down. He was so entranced, he didn’t pay attention to the touch belonging to the man. He allowed it to seat him.

“The smooth sounds never stop..we’ll be playing all night. Enjoy our intermission. Next up we have the black odyssey..”

The voice of the announcer played through the speakers, as a bustle of conversations started at the surrounding tables

“Well..you certainly enjoyed that performance huh lad?” Klaue chucked, Erik didn’t entertain the man one bit, he took a sip of water like it was the last drop on earth, it had grown Luke warm from sitting but he didn’t mind. Anything to snuff the fire that still held his chest,

He felt klaue move beside him his, body moving towards the bar probably to flag the waitress for his bottomless drinks even though he was well into a stupor, but surprisingly in the next moment he was in his ear like an annoying gnat waiting to be squashed “I have someone I’d like you to meet.” Erik couldn’t contain his annoyance, he was in no mood to meet one of klaues acquaintances, and he could tell. His hand was at his shoulder again shaking him lightly “Aw c’mon killmonger..you won’t regret it.” He urged, Erik placed his glass back on the table, shook off Klaues hand. And prepared himself

“Whatever man.”

He knew the next act was nothing he wanted to see, so after this meet and greet he would lug himself back to his room and dream about the woman with the voice of velvet. Klaue was up first, fixing his tie as if that would hide his drunk was, he stumbled away from his seat, and Erik joined him standing up, allowing him to lead the way. Klaue unsurprisingly made his way to the bar, and Erik joined behind him sluggishly.

“Essence!”

His ears perked up to that..it was her, he watched Klaue make a few steps ahead and hault at the seat before him, there she was perched on a stool supporting her frame with the bar.

He felt like his heart had stopped, even though he could feel it beating rapidly in his chest, he began to walk closer taking his stance in respectable distance behind Klaue. His eyes never leaving the beauty of her face.

“Klaue..”

She didn’t like him, he could tell by the sharpness of her voice, it was bitter to his ears. Subtle enough for klaue to miss, but still cutting through the air. He didn’t know the correlation but the excitement in Klaues voice was far more exuberant, she was pulled from her drink an interesting dark substance her glass, too light to be Hennessy but too dark to be dusse, he wasn’t sure what it was but she was dangerous for sure drinking cognac with no chaser.

He didn’t have to see klaues face to know the man held a snarky smile. He leaned foward placing a small greasy peck on her smooth delicate brown skin, Erik felt his jaw clench. A flash of klaues dead body on the ground in his mind. She said nothing in response, swallowing but he could see her crawling on the inside. Her eyes fluttered past the stain of a man, and onto him, he could feel that spell casting again. Noticing the twinkle in her hazel irises her glass clinched against the wood of the bar “whose this?” His stomach tightened, the sweetness returning to her voice klaue turned his head over his shoulder to look at erik, his icy blue eyes skimming over him, another snarky smile growing on his face “this is my bunkmate killmonger!” She hid her expression well on her face but her eyes didn’t lie, he caught her do a once over. She thought he was attractive, good. Weirdly, that made him nervous.

Klaue did nothing but take up space, talking about how they needed to catch up over dinner, raved about her performance and sent his condolences for her father, he noticed her posture freeze at the mention of her father. She took a big gulp of her drink.

“Thank you..”

it wasn’t warm, it was stale she looked away from him, her eyes back on his own as it to say..save me.

That’s all he needed, he put a hand on klaues right shoulder “aye Klaue Linda just paged me..said she need you back at the hotel.” He whispered

“Awh! That sneaky sonofabitch! I was just starting to catch up.”

“Yeah well it could be serious you should go.”

Klaue sighed, but Erik watched as he brought up the dial to his personal driver to Bring his car around

“Well I apologize Esscence but duty calls..we’ll have to catch up over that dinner.”

He didn’t like the animation in his tone, he was much too happy to talk to her and her expression being such a difference rubbed him the wrong way.

Klaue turned to him “how are you getting back lad?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Klaues expression was a little taken aback, but he said nothing. Turned on his heels, and was out of their presence within seconds

Finally

Erik’s eyes was back on her, she was somewhere else looking off into the distance taking the contents of her drink greatly, he took a seat at the stool next to her.

“Your performance was the best I’ve ever seen.”

He commented, taking her out of her thoughts she looked at him warmly a small smile “thank you so much, that really means a lot to me.” She said that with pure gratitude, they sat in a comfortable silence for a moment taking in each others glare. “My mother she loved that album, and absolutely loved that song, I was waking up every Sunday to those jams.” That made her chuckle “she’s got good taste, it was my daddy’s favorite too.” He saw the drop in her gaze, it was one he knew all too well. It was one of pain..one of loss. she looked away again, sipping at her drink “what’s a Brotha like you doing hanging around the likes of Klaue?” She changed the subject He was slightly disappointed they weren’t talking about something of importance “we work together.” He simply stated her gaze was back on him, curious a furrowed brow her eyes told him she knew exactly what his occupation was but he didn’t want to talk about it it was his turn to change the subject

“What’s a singer like you doing in a spot like this?”

“What’s wrong with this spot?”

She quipped a slight playful attitude in her manner

“Nothing, but you should be at the Grammys with that voice Girl.”

She had nothing to say to that just a slight giggle, and that sound made him never want to hear anything else. He wanted to hear her laugh all the time, make her forget about that hole he know her father left. The same one he know he’ll never fill, until his final mission that is. she took another sip of her drink, and the same bartender from before came over to ask about her tab. She closed it, put a crisp twenty down “thanks shawna.” And looked back him, he could feel Shawna looking between them and he knew, she could feel the energy growing between them by the second. They didn’t have to conversate much, the tone was already set.

“So..You staying for the next show?” She asked taking her glass away from her lips, her eyes back on him “nah.” He ran his tongue across his bottom one, watching her eyes flicker at the sight of his gold caines. “I’ve seen all this place got to offer.” she smiled, her acrylics tapping her glass as she set it back to its place on the mahogany stained wood “oh forreal?” He didn’t have to answer she knew what he said. “the nights still young-“ she broke contact, he could tell she was nervous too nervous to read his own “my homeboys having a get together if you want to fall through.” He tried to hide the smirk growing on his face but she caught the sight of his dimples as her gaze came back to his face, her eyes danced over him, drinking in his attire as she awaited his answer

“Well..what we still doin’ here?”

AN: Hi beauties wanted to finish what I started, I always had big plans for this story and I’ve been trying for years to believe in my writing enough to finish!! So happy new years :3 and happy new me part two coming tmmrw!

-G

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