#the truth has it’s boots on: ooc | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

strawb3rryshortcak5 · 2 years ago

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When You Wash Your Hair

simon ‘ghost’ riley x fem!reader

Summary: It has been 13 months since Simon has been properly home. The day before he left, the two of you got into an agonizing argument. Not knowing whether or not you will be there when he gets home, he silently walks up to the house.

Contains: SFW, angst to fluff, ooc Ghost (he is a cold man out on the field, but he is mostly a softie for you), descriptions of yelling, arguments, anxiety, abandonment, swearing, crying, anger, and also a bit of kissing, hints of alcoholism but its mentioned briefly

A/N: This is my first time writing a fanfic on tumblr so i apologize if this is shite 🤭 Let me know if there is anything i should improve on. Enjoy this long asf oneshot of our babygirl ghosty 🫶💞 Also!! based on the song ‘when you wash your hair’ by Matt Maltese

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This all started out with you voicing your concerns about your relationship. The feelings of abandonment you felt every time he left for a job and the worry and anxieties that followed after, not knowing whether he was going to come home safe or in a hearse. It scared you, you loved him, but the lack of communication during the time he was away was killing you.

You cried trying to tell him how it felt. You sobbed on the floor of your shared bedroom, telling him that you were growing apart. You never wanted to stop loving him, you didn’t think it was possible. But you could not do this to yourself by staying. It was painful.

It started to get heated when he shut down. He stopped looking at you as he sat further onto the once warm bed you two had slept in together. He grunted, and pushed himself up. Without looking back at you, he slowly marched to the other side of the room. He swiftly opened a drawer on one of two dressers you owned, this one specifically for his SAS attire. It carried his weapons, his private files, obviously his clothes, and some other miscellaneous items he kept hidden. He grabbed the black duffle that sat next to it and started packing. You sat on the floor in quiet disbelief as Simon started carefully folding and stuffing clothes into the bag.

“Simon, you can’t be serious right now.” Your once sad and lonely voice slowly drifted into an angry yelp.

Furious you felt as he continued not responding to you, you stood up and stomped over to him, grabbing what he was holding and tossing it to the side.

“What is your problem!?” You squealed as he stared at you. His face devoid of any kind of expression.

He softly moved from his kneeling position into a standing one. Keeping eye contact with you as you searched his body language for anything you could use to answer your question.

“My problem? What is your problem Y/N? You knew what you were getting into when you got with me, and now all of a sudden its a surprise i have to leave? Get a hold of yourself.” He said, starting to raise his voice.

He pushed past you to grab the pants you had thrown to the other side of the room. Stiffly walking back to the duffle and kneeling down once again. The truth is, he hated fighting with you. He hated seeing you so devastated at the fact he had to leave. He didn’t want to leave, but long ago he had gotten numb to the feeling of homesickness. Of course he missed you, but he clearly prioritized his job over you. Everyone knew this.

Not knowing how to respond to your husbands words, you walked out of the bedroom and practically ran down the stairs to the living room. Sitting down on the couch and putting your hands onto your face, covering it. Thinking over the situation and gathering the proper words to say, you decided when he came back down you would speak to him again.

A couple minutes later he descended the stairs, duffle and work boots in hand and passed your frame on the couch to go straight to the door. All the words you wanted to say were forgotten and what came out of your mouth shocked the both of you.

“If you leave right now Simon, i can’t promise i will be home when you get back.” You said, sternly. Eyes widening ever so slightly at your own sentence.

“This is my bloody job Y/N!” He bellowed. “I have to go, regardless of how you feel. If you leave that is not my fault. Do whatever the hell you want!”

Dropping his packed bag back onto the floor, He twists around to look across the room at your form. You were shaking at his response. Not from fear or sadness, but from what only one could describe as poisonous rage.

“Get out.” The calmness of your voice made the silence that came after it more deafening.

Wordlessly, he tied up his boots, grabbed all of his things he had previously collected and left by the front door, and walked out.

————————————————————————————

He was finally home. Taking a taxi from the airport to what he used to call he private safe house, he sat silent the whole drive. He was nervous. Walking up to his own house feels surreal. The nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach begins to feel painful. Anxiety fills his body, nonetheless he continues on.

The red light of the evening

The cotton that you wear

They cover up your neck this way

Adjusting his baklava and swinging his duffle further onto his shoulder, he digs in his pockets for his keys. Nearly dropping them as he pulls them out, he unlocks the door. He quickly notices that the sound of water running is most prominent in his ears. Thin walls.

“Y/N.” He says quietly. “Thank god.”

Placing his stuff down and removing the rest of his heavy gear, including his mask, he walks towards the sound of what he assumes to be the shower. He starts to sweat as he ascends the stairs. The bathroom door is slightly ajar as he creeps up to it, pushing it open slowly.

Your calm and naked crying

Washing off Chanel

From the edges of your neck this way

You don’t hear the door open, too concentrated on lathering your loofa in soap and scrubbing yourself down. Simon bought you this bath set. It had been such a wonderful surprise when he brought it home to you. Your tears flowing even more as you thought of him. You didn’t leave the house after the argument, but you did call your mom. She told you that it was completely your decision if you wanted to leave and that her advice would not have mattered anyways. So you followed the direction of your heart and stayed.

Paying back attention to your surroundings, you see a large burly figure through the slight transparency of the shower curtain. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you yelp and pull the curtain back clumsily, enough to see this figure but not enough for them to see anything but your face.

You did some things that you forgot

Drinking wine and smoking pot

You tried to be someone you are not

Simon’s eyes soften at the sight of your surprised but tired gaze. Before he had walked up to see you, he noted the amount of empty bottles of wine laying on the floor of the living room. You had been drinking, quite a bit. This concerned him as you were not a person who drank often. Only having a shot or two when going out and certainly not drinking at home.

“Simon?” You whispered dropping the curtain and snatching the towel you had left next to the sink.

Wrapping yourself up, you step out of the shower. Not speaking a word after that. You stared at him, hard. Searching for potential wounds or new found scars on his face and arms. He doesn’t move. Your tears begin flowing again, faster than last time.

“I am so sorry, my love.” He states, taking a few steps forward and finally actually entering the bathroom.

You don’t know what to say at all. You didn’t want to forgive him. Fuck that. But deep down you knew you had already forgiven him the second he walked out the door in the first place. Covering your mouth as you began sobbing, you look to your side and back to him.

“You are a fucking asshole.” You say, nothing but sadness laced in between your words.

Marching forward you grab your husband and pull him into a tight hug, him returning it immediately. You wrap your arms around his waist and hold his shoulder from behind. He grabs your water soaked head and brings it into his chest, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

The apology comes out easier than he expected it to. He apologized for everything you thought he wasn’t aware of. He apologized for leaving you alone. He apologized for prioritizing his job over his wife. He apologized for constantly leaving socks on the floor of your bedroom and everything else in between. Swaying you back and forth as you sobbed in his arms.

“Its okay, its okay.” You whispered over and over again as he held you. Interrupting his apologies quietly over and over again until he was done.

Pulling yourself off of him slightly you grab his face with your hands and look up into his eyes. Moving your hands up his face, you eventually run your fingers through his hair and return back down to his cheeks.

Now the morning sweeps you up

You take your evening outfit off

“Join me?” You question, quickly gazing back at the still running shower and then back to his pretty eyes. dropping the towel as you do so.

“Of course.” He whispers lovingly. Silently taking off his clothes as he follows you back into the shower.

You run your shower and lean back your head

He kisses your lips as you close the curtain. Kissing him back with everything you have, you equally as fast pull away. Muttering a quick ‘you smell’ as you move to stand behind him, grabbing the shampoo bottle and squirting some into your hand. He hums blissfully as you begin massaging his scalp. When it’s scrubbed enough, you turn him around and back him into the flowing water of the shower head. Letting the soap wash away from his hair.

“Thank you for staying. Fucking hell, i wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you left.” He smiles a bit as he says this and you are quick to lock your lips once again. More passionately this time, him knowing in his heart that you are his forever. He will always be grateful for you.

I love when you wash your hair

#If this is bad please forgive me i am not a professional fanfic writer yet 🙏#cod ghost x reader #simon riley #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ‘ghost’ riley #call of duty #simon riley angst #simon riley fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mwii

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running-on-narrativium · 3 years ago

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C.M.O.T Dibbler would own this sign, but he would include rats, pigeons, thieves guild members, and talking stray dogs.

#the truth has it’s boots on: ooc

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chemistryread · 2 years ago

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disclaimers/tags: female oc. written as a reader insert but reader has a lot of backstory. slowburn. angst. no fun spin on misogyny, just the bad one. implied domestic violence but nothing too graphic. minors dni.

a/n: the plot of the show is not relevant to this story, i’m just using the characters, who are likely ooc. i’m hoping to end it within 3-4 posts but like i said, it’s a bit of a slowburn. i pulled the wattpad tropes out for this one and i’m not sorry, it is cheesy. if you’ve seen the show, the boyfriend shares similarities with the tillerson boys. it’s purposefully ambiguous, up to you if it’s one of them or not. rhett is not a fuckboy in this, just a boy who fucks.

lmk your thoughts :)

part 2

right cowboy, wrong time

rhett abbott

summary: you’re not home and your boyfriend’s a dick. thankfully, not all cowboys are bad.

The humid air makes your nose itch, adapting to the change in weather. Your head is held high, however, trying not to look too out of place and dare draw any attention.

"You're not fooling anyone."

"Excuse me?"

He leans in by your side, arms crossing in front of him as he looks over his elbows, pretending something in the mud caught his eye.

"Most girls from the city who try to pass as locals at least dress up the part. You couldn't find any boots that fit your taste?"

Blue eyes squint at the pair of Vans perched on the wooden fence, matching your dark 'mom jeans'.

It was bold of this guy, you thought, to come up to you with so much snark after falling from a bull so badly the audience audibly winced. But there was something soft in his features, non malicious. You decide to risk being honest with him.

"The cowboy hat is a demand from my boyfriend. So is the push-up bra." You point to your pronounced chest with your chin, smiling when the stranger next to you follows the movement with a lazy gaze. "It's funny, he said something similar. He wants me to look more like the girls from around here."

The stranger finally looks you in the eye from under his own hat. Unfamiliar warmth fills your belly and you fight the urge to clear the hair away from his face.

"Why doesn't he just date them, then?"

A loud bitter laugh escapes from your lips right into his ears, and he straigtens up instantly, like a shock.

"Million dollar question, isn't it?" Thin lips reciprocate your smile. God, you thought you hated all cowboys. "Uhm, he says they bore him. He wants my brain, but their look. If you ask me the truth, I just think he went through all of them already, so he went looking for an idiot to appease him somewhere else. And he found me."

Amusement crosses his eyes despite the frown in display on his face.

"He sounds like an asshole."

Unkown nice cowboy has a lovely, deep voice.

You're about to lean a little closer and agree, when someone cuts you off.

"Who does?" Blinding white teeth bite into the cold night air, the strong arms of your boyfriend crushing your side into him, akin to a predator protecting his meal. "Abbott."

Your new friend acknowledges the tall blonde possessively separating you two with equal contempt in his words.

Suddenly, you're invisible. The nice boy leaves without so much as a glance.

These will be miserable months.

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

"So, Abbott, huh?"

Maybe you shouldn't have followed him into the grocery store, but it was hot outside.

"What, interested? We might have a name, but that name doesn't have much money attached to it anymore."

He doesn't look at you, simply puts what he needs in his basket and keeps walking. You trace his steps from a distance, enjoying the refreshing breeze from the AC.

"No danger of that. As you've seen, I'm taken."

His arm freezes above his head, shades of blue boring into you inquisitively, before he grabs a can of beans and checks the expiration date on it.

"I'm just looking for a friend. I'll hardly survive here if I don't have any of those."

"What about your guy? He won't like this friendship."

You shrug innocently, dusting the shelves with the tip of your fingers.

"It's his fault I can't have any girl friends in this town, seeing they are all his exes and consequently dislike me at once. Plus, who said I want you to be my friend? I'm just banking on the fact that your family is known around here, and you'd be an easy shortcut to meeting people."

"So you're using me." He speaks over his shoulder, walking to the freezer section.

"Sure am. But at least I'm honest about it."

His back is still turned to you when he speaks again.

"Is that a big thing for you, honesty?"

Your skin grows hot. This random cute boy can't read your mind, relax. He's trying to get to know you. It's small talk. Not everyone wants to hurt you.

"It is. Count on it."

Hopefully, how vulnerable it is to admit as much doesn't come across.

Abbott side-eyes you, with a genuine smirk. It forces you to look away, intimidated.

Maybe it was mistake to target him. You should leave.

Before a rude goodbye can leave your lips, the young man turns to you.

"Why are you here, if you don't know anyone?"

Short fingernails picking the label off cheap frozen veggies, you try to smile but it certainly doesn't reach your eyes.

"Taking some time off university."

How embarrassing. You have no problem poking and probing until they do it to you, and then you're avoiding eye contact and looking for an exit.

"What do you study?"

"English. In Boston. I'm a writer. Allegedly."

You can tell your joke entertains him from the small exhale that comes out of his nose.

"Do you like it?"

"I love it." The truth finally forces you to look up. You notice the confusion on his face, anticipating his question with a shrug. "My boyfriend. He wanted me to take a break."

Abbott looks disappointed, and, for whatever reason, it hurts. A silly desire for him to think highly of you.

"I don't mean to overstep, but I wouldn't peg you for the kind'f girl to go where a man tells her to."

A terrible habit, you cover the purple spot on your jaw with your hair, pretending to smooth non existent knots.

"It wasn't an easy choice, but it was for the best."

Thin brows furrow and dirty fingers brush the strands away, gently. Of course he would notice.

"I'll get out of your hair now, sorry to bother. I was really just trying to cool off. See you around!"

Trembling hands push the grocery store's doors, curse words mumbled under your breath. Great fucking job, idiot.

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

He approaches you next.

You saw him earlier when you got to the bar, drinking with another guy, but kept your head down and continued walking next to your boyfriend and his friends.

It was going to be hard to get to you, since you weren't allowed to be alone unless you were going to the bathroom. Which is how he got you.

As soon as you step out to wash your hands, he's in the corridor, chewing on his bottom lip.

"Stranger." Eyes meet and you try to ignore the hair in the back of your neck standing up. You do your best to not get your sleeves wet without having to push them up too high. "Men's room occupied?"

He doesn't miss the suggestivenes on your tone, copying the smirk you're struggling to hide. For all you know, he might have some pretty blonde freshening up in there.

"You city folks and beating 'round the bush."

His voice rumbles through you, tongue busy tsking at your poor attempt at avoiding the elephant in the room.

You take him in through the mirror's reflection. Hands in his pockets, leaning on the plastic divider failing to pass as real wood. Looking determinedly at you.

If you said so, would he beat the shit out of your boyfriend and make sure he never calls again?

Tossing the crumpled handtowel in the trash, your back touches the soaked and sticky counter, commanding him to listen by returning his direct staring.

"Okay. This is not your problem to fix. I'm sorry about what you saw, it wasn't a signal or anything. I'm fine and you don't need to get involved. Good?"

He nods and you move to leave, stopped by an unsure hand grabbing your elbow. It quickly retracts to his side, wiping against his jeans.

"Do you need a job or something?"

"I thought your family didn't have much money."

A shy smile takes over his features, breaking the restraint that always seems to reign over. Another small chuckle escapes him, making his Adam's apple throb and your eyes drag not so subtly.

The smell of hard vodka hits your nose when he inches closer, stuttering.

"My brother, uhm, has a friend who owns a diner nearby. It's smack centre of town, busy enough that he always needs more help and most of the creeps avoid it. Probably not what a fancy writer from Boston dreams of but if you plan on sticking around, it'll help you get some of your own cash."

The promise of independence.

You give him a warm smile you haven't gifted anyone with in a while.

"Can I get the name of this magical place?"

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

It's early, too early, his head feels like it weighs three times its normal and all he wants is for his family to lower their voices.

Until your sweet ring, sharpened for customer service points, breaks through his morning suffering and drowns the sour taste in his mouth.

"Hello, beautiful people. What can I get you?" The apron is neatly tied with a bow on top of your stomach, clearly tightened around your back and then the front again, with more effort than he's ever seen in this diner. He can't help but scoff, and you finally look up from the old school notepad in your hands. "Oh, hi."

Everyone at the table shoots him a glare, assuming what they always did. One more girl they'll never learn the name of, and it's possibly better that way.

His mother, in particular, has a scowl on her face, looking out the window and avoiding dealing with whoever her son messes with.

"Happy to see you here."

The sun bothers his eyes, one of which is closed when he acknowledges you. He has no idea how his mom can have her head turned that way without wincing. Although she coughs, he's sure it's in response to what he had just said.

It was innocent, but she didn't know that.

"Wouldn't be if it wasn't for you." That gets his mother to look. "Thanks, by the way."

He puts his fist in front of his lips, elbows glued to the recently wiped table, a bit embarrassed of all the attention you dumped onto him.

"I didn't do nothing, Perry is the one who talked to his friend. You should thank him."

You throw a small smile at him, almost teasing, barely whispering an 'oh'. He sees very little of your teeth, rosy lips and dimples provoking him for a brief second before you redirect your kindness to his brother on the other side of the table.

"I am very grateful, you basically got me the job." Perry extends his hand for you to shake, and there's a little spark in his eyes that's been gone since Rebecca. Maybe it's your effect on people. "Let me return the favor and get you guys a good breakfast, what do you say?"

When you leave, he takes a page from his mom's book and stares at the brightness cascading down the trucks in the parking lot. His head hurts again but at least he's definitely not thinking about the lines around your eyes when you grin or the flowery smell you left behind.

"Who is she?"

"Drop it, ma." The question comes in a much more unpretentious manner than usual and it doesn't go unnoticed by him, even if he's not looking at her. "Some girl from outta town who needed help settling in. That's all."

At the last word, he tips his hat over his eyes and decides he's better off daydreaming about the attractive outsider committed to being nice to him than fending off his family's suspicions.

You leave them to it after serving their plates, and he misses your eyes on him but doesn't say anything.

When they're leaving, Amelia dettaches herself from her father's grip and pokes you in the leg as you're cleaning a different table close to the exit. He holds the door, intrigued by what on earth this kid is up to now.

"Uncle Rhett says you're from out of town." He almost knocks his forehead on the glass as he realizes he offered you a job but never a name. You nod at his niece, sending him a questioning look. "You're just as pretty as I thought they'd be."

He feels like bolting out of the diner and running home. What if you thought he told Amelia to say that to you? You'll think he's a fucking loser.

Not that he should care this much.

Instead, he's frozen in place watching another breathtaking smile blossom on your face as you think about how to react.

"Well," You sigh, and look straight into the little girl's eyes. "Takes one to know one."

With a wink, you exchange introductions and he might have to thank his niece later for that, because he never asked for your name either.

You go straight back to wiping the table so he walks away, but not without a weird feeling someone's watching as he climbs into the back of the truck.

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

It's a while before he sees you again.

He doesn't bother you at work, too shy despite his curiosity to go in alone and too hungover to wake up in time to follow his family for breakfast.

You don't go out much, or at all, apparently. He's at the bar every night, you're not.

He sees Maria though, stunning as ever. And like most nights, she makes him too nervous and he does nothing about it.

Perry calls in a favor and now he's parking the truck in the back of the diner with a couple of boxes of fresh produce on the passenger seat.

It's you who comes out to greet him.

You're awfully quiet and evasive, taking the boxes inside without making eye contact.

When you come back with the money, you accidentally skip a step, heel of your shoe sliding off the wood and causing you to land a little harsh on the concrete.

He's quick to steady you, ready to joke about your useless sneakers when he realizes the contorted look on your face and how you're grabbing at your left knee.

"Ok there?"

Like you remembered yourself, your back straightens up and you shove the money into his hands, pushing him away in the process. The distance is not enough that he doesn't see the tears welling up in your eyes.

"Fine. Here you go. Lenny says thanks."

Turning to climb back inside, as soon as your left leg rises, you audibly wince and stop.

He's not too sure of what do, until he hears shaky breaths.

"I'll take you to a hospital, let-"

"No hospitals, I can't."

It's an automatic response and he understands immediately.

"How bad is it?"

He can't really see through your jeans.

"He- I fell. I think it's just bruised, I don't know."

"My mom can take a look at it, she's had plenty of practice with my brother and I, she won't mind. Don't protest, just get in the car. I'll tell Lenny you're not feeling too good."

Before you can stop him, he's putting the money on Lenny's palm and stammering out an excuse. He's surprised by how fast he sprung into action too.

During the ride you don't cry, but stubborn hiccups give away that you're holding the tears back really hard. He wants to tell you it's okay, he doesn't care if you cry, but he's scared if he opens his mouth he'll end up saying something that'll make you more upset, choosing instead to white-knuckle his steering wheel.

His mother is washing the pans from lunch when he gets home, you following behind uncertain, making yourself small. It's a stark contrast from the day you followed him into the grocery store, mindlessly striking up conversation, and it bothers him.

She remembers you, surprisingly, but still asks menacingly what he thinks he's doing.

"She's hurt, and I thought you might help, Ma.”

You look so uncomfortable, ashamed to impose. He tells you to take a seat on the couch and moves to grab you a glass of water from the kitchen, stopping by his mother to put a hand on her shoulder and whisper who's your boyfriend.

A look of understanding quickly crosses her eyes, and instant compassion takes over, huffing as she crouches down to get the first aid kit under the sink.

The two women fall into comfortable silence. The knee is simply sore, the skin a little dark, but he knows you probably didn't give it any time to heal, waltzing around the diner for days without taking care of yourself.

You're given pain killers and he finally hands you the water, fingertips wet from nervously gripping the bottom of the glass, trying not to curse out the man responsible for your situation.

This kind of thing wasn't entirely unusual for smaller, conservative towns, but times have gladly changed. No one here likes to see it, the cuplrits are pointed out wherever they go, sometimes being denied service and shunted from the community. Still, no one's forward enough to put themselves in between 'husband and wife'.

It's a pity, he thinks. All you had to do was ask, and he would get his father and his brother to kick an entire generation of blonde little pricks out of their town.

Alas, you never did.

He thinks you don't want to ask, analyzing closely how apologetic you are to his mother, scared to sit back on the couch and take space that isn’t yours.

The older woman gets up, glancing between you and him.

"Don't worry, kid. I'm quite happy to meet you. I usually don't get to tell Rhett's girls they are welcome to stay."

She manages to be endearing to you and venomous to him in the same breath, and he chuckles lowly through gritted teeth, looking up at the ceiling. Of course she would say something like that.

Wondering what you're probably thinking of him at his mother's revelation, he finds you biting back a grin, dimples digging into your cheeks. Once more, he loses control of himself and returns - actually, no, gratuitously hands you a wide smile in a silver platter. His reaction is five times bigger than yours.

"His girls, plural, you say?" There's something infuriating about your energy towards him. You're fucking with him, no doubt about that, but it's not mean. Well, maybe a little bit because you seem to enjoy the way he changes his footing back and forth, blushing at his damn boots. Somehow, however, it fills him with giddiness. He has no reason to be so certain about it, but he knows it's lighthearted. If you had evil intent, maybe he would've already had you crammed into his truck and drooling around his cock. Unfortunately, seems like you were truthful that day at the store. You want a friend. "'Fraid I'm not of them, ma'am. I have my own guy to worry about."

You're looking back at the matriarch now, arms hanging on top of cushions, green blemishes hidden underneath your biceps.

"That's never stopped any of you before."

It's a test.

You're quicker than her.

"I don't think the size of a district interferes with someone's morals. I might've been raised by a big city, but I'm not and have never been that kind of girl."

His mother snaps back your way, spine straight, slowly breaking out a smile. You passed with flying colors. She likes folks who can stand up for themselves, means they think they're good enough to start a fight over, and that's good enough for her.

At that moment, Amelia bursts through the door, already rambling to her grandmother about something she learned in school that day.

When she sees you, she freezes in the middle of the kitchen, out of breath from all the talking. Fast hands roll your pant leg down before she can see anything.

Amy can barely contain her smile, fixing herself up and dropping her school bag on the floor. "What are you doing here?"

You brush off the older members of the family reprimanding her lack of manners.

"Paying a visit. On my way out, though, I should be getting back to work."

Trying to stand up without a fuss is a disaster, and he's right by your side in case you need to lean on someone. Of course you reject it, though.

"Are you okay?"

"Just fine. I slipped at work and your uncle offered to help, that's all."

Shooting the girl a reassuring smile, she betrays it with a suspicious laugh.

The two of you stare at her, confused.

"Yeah, Uncle Rhett is such a helping hand."

Sarcasm is dripping from her words and he knows immediately that you two will get along. Dangerously so.

Ignoring the brat, he turns to you, hand still hovering behind your back.

"It's late, there's like, what? Forty minutes left to your shift? Twenty after we finally get there? I'll just take you home."

Your eyes widen at the mention of home. Of course he, an Abbott, can't drop you off at your boyfriend's property, where he assumed you were staying.

"Wait, can I show you around before you go? I want you to see something."

Amelia butts in before he can signal that he understood and he'd give you a ride to town, at least. You nod at the smaller figure, letting her take your hand.

He's debating whether or not to follow you two, until you look back from the doorway.

"Aren't you coming? If we get lost, we might need your savior complex."

It's another dig at him. This time, he has a comeback at the tip of his tongue.

"I'll stop saving you when you stop needing me."

He knows his mother is smiling.

Whatever confident spirit possessed him, it pushes him out the door, chest grazing yours as he tips his hat your way, boots digging into the humid grass and whistling for one the dogs to accompany you.

He hears you laugh for the first time since he saw you at the rodeo. It's really, really nice.

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

You begin seeing each other more often after that day.

Rhett comes in at least three times a week, usually with Amelia, paying for her milkshake. They sit at the counter so they can talk to you when you're not attending to any tables.

You don't think much of it. Your boyfriend's the only one you go home to every night, no matter what. You have no intentions of changing that, for now.

Aside from the Abbotts, Danielle who works with you is the only other friend you've made. You like it that way. Lenny, not unlike the patrons at the diner, asks too many personal questions so you keep your conversations to a minimum.

Work, then to your boyfriend's mansion.

The house is usually quiet, so after being stuck for so long in a writer's block, it's a relief when you pick up your laptop and start something new. It could be worse.

On a slow Wednesday, Amelia convinces you to let her help wipe the tables.

Bending down to pick up an abandoned spoon on the floor, something strange nags at the pit of your stomach. Rhett is talking to a girl with long, dark hair.

It happens. But with her, you notice, his body language is much more insecure. Spilling his coffee accidentally.

"What am I looking at?"

Amelia barely spares them a glance before scoffing. "That's Maria. Uncle Rhett has had a dying crush on her since high school. That's what my dad says."

"She's beautiful."

She really is. When she leaves the diner, most pair of eyes, men and women, follow her.

"I guess. Too beautiful, my dad says, and that's why my uncle never does anything about it. It scares him."

What you wouldn't give to feel like that for a day.

Dating a man who is constantly requesting that you look different, like other people, is terribly exhausting. And some got to walk around effortlessly desirable to everyone. It's hardly fair.

With his credit card, you buy new clothes and more make up. It's a good few weeks for the two of you, best you've had in a while.

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

On a day off, you decide to tag along for the rodeo.

Maria is there too, with one of your boyfriend's brothers, which you find weird. In a sea of options, she can definitely do better. You'd tell her, but under his eagle eye you have no time to introduce yourself.

Rhett is riding one of the bulls, and you see how her eyes never leave him, even when he's standing in the sidelines waiting for his turn. She wrings her hands together when he mounts, and claps excitedly when he marks a good time despite the pointed looks from the boys.

Your hand is in a tight grip as you walk into the bar, and the minute you do, Maria frees herself with two strong strides. Your feet almost follow her, wondering if her group of girlfriends would let you sit with them and just listen.

She spends her night laughing, dancing, and talking to Rhett as the bartender serves her a new round. Yours is spent watching in envy.

A hand possessively squeezes around your thigh, drawing your attention away.

"Sorry. I need air."

Three minutes is all you get to yourself. Heavy boots make the wood creak, awkward step causing you to stifle a tipsy laugh.

He's not gonna forgive you for that.

You're pressed against the wall, his arms trapping you as he snarls his complaints, hair flying into your mouth as you yell back. It's bad, and loud, but fuck it.

He talks about how boring you are, how the other girls don't mind growing their hair in the heat, their nails are still manicured, their asses still full despite not eating much. You talk about feeling overwhelmed and homesick, out of your element. It's not the same. It's not fucking fair.

The Abbott siblings walk out when he's calling you a stuck up bitch, your answer dying in your throat.

You're so fucking stupid. Incapable of controlling yourself. He notices the look you exchange with the younger brother, quietly crossing your arms and swallowing your tears, flustered cheeks pointing at the ground.

In no time, he's scoffing and turning towards the entrance.

"Abbott, you got something to tell me?"

Rolling your eyes, you push yourself to sound annoyed and confused, calling his name.

He shuts you up with a finger to your face.

"Don't play dumb." Looking between the pair of you, the lewdness in his next sentence makes you nauseous. "I can't let your whore ass out of my sight, can I?"

Rhett steps forward and you know this is not going to end well.

They're talking over each other and your attempt to be heard is pathetic, trying nonetheless, pulling by his shirt and begging him to let it go.

Knowing exactly how to put a stop to this nonsense, you put your body in between the men and, reactively, an elbow makes contact with your mouth. The blood is still not as sickening as your boyfriend's remarks.

It doesn't take much to assure you it was him. Perry and Rhett are more careful than that, probably raised well by their mama (in a brief moment of dizziness, a smile comes to your bloody lips). But he stopped yelling, and moving. Throwing scared glances between the people outside.

People knew, but to deal with it man to man was different.

Spitting out the dark liquid, you look up at your boyfriend. "Can we go home now?"

Cursing under his breath, he shoulders past the other boys and walks away to wait for you by the truck.

If you stop to breathe, you might crumble. So you turn and walk back inside, poignantly avoiding the two pairs of eyes bugging out at you.

Determined steps take you to the table you were sitting at minutes ago. If you had just kept your emotions under- nevermind that.

The girls, Maria especially, are terrified to see your red teeth. Her eyes question something behind you, and you assume Rhett followed you inside.

Anticipating his hand on the small of your back, you take a step closer to the table, fully under the white light hanging above. The boys are unphased by your state.

"Keys." Met with a wave of grunts at the thought of losing their friend this early in the night. "He wants to go."

A blonde head pokes out, challenging. Drunk out of his mind, slurring his words. "C'mon, I thought it was your job to, howtoputit, mellow him out? Did you even try? Let me look down your throat, say 'Ah'."

A couple people laugh. Rhett growls behind you, and before he can make things worse, you square your shoulders, then shrug.

"Why do you think he wants to go?" You could puke right then and there. Instead, you extend your hand. "Keys."

You bump Rhett on the shoulder on your way out, just like your boyfriend. The regret and the image of those crooked repulsive smiles at the table cause you to throw up as soon as your shoes hit the dirt. Perry looks away, respectfully, until you're climbing inside the truck.

part 2 is finished and will come out soon :)

#rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #reader insert #i havent written in a while im nervous asaaaaaahhhhaggg

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sips-tea-cutely · 2 years ago

Note

Congratulations for 800 dear!! It’s well deserved! For the event could I please get 14 and/or 19 with dear Fyodor? Female reader if you wouldn’t mind <3

Untitled

“I've lost all control of my heartbeat now, got caught in a romance with her somehow. I still feel a shock through every bone when I hear an, "I love you", 'cause now I've got someone to lose”

a/n: HI I WROTE THIS WITH 3 SHOTS OF COFFEE AT 2AM IN THE DARK I CANT FEEL MY HEART I CAN SEE BONES DAZAI IN FRONT OF ME SORRY IF OOC 😭😭😭 ALSO GOING PST ANONS CURFEW AHAHAHAHAHA

prompt: “You have to come back to me. Because I cannot do this without you.”, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” & “I can’t lose you again! Please, don’t make me lose you again.”

an accident. it was the reason fyodor was protective of you; being near him at all times, any stranger near you being ‘taken cared of’, and even him checking in on you (how kind of him, no?).

it is also one of the many reasons why he must get rid of abilities. their abilities hurt you— their carelessness hurt you.

fyodor never wanted to include you in any of his plans, you were all too valuable to him. but this— all of the rat members are all recognized criminals to the government, the decay as well are too special in the public eye, and he couldn’t do it himself. no, he needed someone who’d trust him— someone who isn’t special to the government nor the public. it wasnt the ideal situation but it was the one that would give the best results.

“well? will you do it or no?” fyodor’s eyes narrowed at you. he seems to think he looked uncaring but it was obvious with his unusually shaky fingers. “just cause a conflict? sure, it’s not that hard. as long as dazai isn’t near.” you mutter. “very well then, ill have father hawthorne lead him away.” fyodor subtly relaxed his muscles but even so, he seemed tense. “alright then, i’ll do it.”

discussing details took forever. going over the plan— sow rumors of the port mafia’s secrets, reveal the hidden crimes of the agency— they will assume the other had done it or perhaps the guild did it as a last resort to stay alive? a war between the gifted will happen without the decay lifting a single finger.

“alright, fedya, i understand already, no need to continue on…” you grumble. “right, you need to rest too— ah, just—” fyodor scrunched his face in irritation, desperately trying to express his affections for you. “you have to come back to me, i cannot do this without you— i cannot lose you again. so please, don’t make me lose you again.” fyodor’s eyes were often calculating yet at this moment, they had the look of sincerity. “of course, i’ll do my best to stay safe. no need to worry, fedya.”

“yes, now sleep well, my myshka.” he said as lead you to the bed, brushing the hair that lay on the pillows.

┉ˏ͛ ༝̩̩̥͙ ⑅͚˚　　 ҉　　⑅͚˚ ͛༝̩̩̥͙ ˎ┉

fyodor blacked out. he vaguely remembers someone reporting to him that you and hawthorne were arrested for conspiracy. a couple thousands were used to bail, that was no problem but, you were injured. sprained wrist, black eye, bruised body— did they take you tie you up after finding out the truth? perhaps he should really give dazai credit for his intelligence.

the pastor’s incompetence to just distract someone is laughable, the only thing he is good for is to kiss that ms. margaret’s boot. despite his anger, fyodor could feel himself relating to hawthorne— being so lovestruck for one that can’t comprehend just exactly how much he loves you, it’s a feeling that can make a man careless.

there isn’t much to do of what has happened. fyodor carefully disinfected your wounds as he lectured you about carefulness. “fedya, i swear it was just bad luck!.. it’s not really my fault that the agency’s detective was able to sniff me out so quickly...” you whine as he inspected your eye.

he carefully gripped your chin as he bandaged it. “myshka, i am not saying that— mr. edogawa is quite intelligent, you should’ve taken that into account as well.” fyodor wasn’t the best at advice… “well, either way, both of them were away long enough for gogol to find what we truly need. those secrets are barely the worst.”

“gh, then why are you so worried about this?” you scowled, sucking in your breath from the cold ice on your wrist. “do you really not get it? it’s because i want to spend the rest of my life with you. you’re someone who has seen me more than anyone else has before. i have not told most what i have told you— you’re special to me.”

“hm, it’s almost 11. both of us have quite an exciting day… i’ll join you for tonight, my angel.” fyodor looked at the clock before leading you to bed, much more affectionately than usual. if you could only see how love-struck he is.

#mod maki #loving you distantly — 800 followers event #bungo stray dogs imagines #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs imagines #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou sd #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd imagines #bsd x reader #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky #fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader

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nameless-shrimp · 3 years ago

Text

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — RORONOA ZORO

↳ PAIRING: Roronoa Zoro x GN! Reader

↳ TYPE: one-shot

↳ WORD COUNT: 5k (i'm so sorry)

↳ WARNINGS: no major spoilers, post-timeskip ish, reader is an artist, shy and insecure reader, Zoro is probably OOC, heavy grammar errors, i did my best okay

↳ SYNOPSIS: Being the lonely and quiet artist on the ship, Zoro has taken quite an interest in you. Though, he's unsure how to properly speak out his feelings.

↳ AUTHOR’S NOTES: damn i go missing for a month and come back to a one piece fic, sorry this is so bad, i haven't written in a while and well tbh, this was based off a dream LOL. please forgive me if this is written incorrectly with the timeskip stuff, i have a long way to go and just wanted to write zoro content because it's ZORO <333

Forever.

As if one man could dream for a lifetime, though he was sure of his obvious fantasy. A little ring around someone’s finger—where his dream of the future could slowly come to a reality, despite the harsh differences between his occupation compared to the possibility of another. Although, one captivated his interests. A lone traveler, wandering aimlessly into his life, only to capture the heart of a—who was once—pirate hunter that now held a dangerous bounty.

His captain didn’t hesitate to have you on board the ship for a short amount of time. Although the passing of a few months had led to the growth between you and him. Eye stares slowly gazing into his mere curiosity of innocent turmoil; the man aiming to be the world’s greatest swordsman had fallen in a funny little trickle called love?

Sanji nearly spat at his boots for it; as if the mosshead was capable of such a thing.

Though he caught onto it fairly quickly. The cook knew a man in love when he saw one. Much to Sanji’s demise, he didn’t argue against it. However, the secret was kept between them—two annoying men who bicker consistently enough to drive the navigator crazy. It humored you, causing you to fancy the swordsman more.

He’d be lying if he wasn’t so deep in the tunnels of curiosity of what love was meant to be.

Eventually, the relationship sparked into something more. A night resting on the crow’s nest, where you sat there away from the others, occupied with your own drawings and the view of the horizon creeping into its night. End of dawn; Zoro knew you enjoyed your time alone from the others. (And with Luffy’s consistent chaotic state, how could you not?)

“I don’t want you to always feel like you’re alone.”

Those words from his mouth echoed throughout your head that one night, where Zoro spent his time to bring you dinner and you both shared about your personal dreams. An artist just wandering across the seas in hopes to find a new home, lost in nothing but sketchbooks and scattered paintbrushes. Although Luffy had made it clear that you’d grow to be a stronger, well-mannered, and cultivated pirate if you remained to be at home with the crew.

Zoro occasionally laid his head down on the floor, where you allowed his head to rest on your lap while you focused on your own portraits. He did his usual bantering, but did he want to do it? Truly, he definitely did.

As if the stubborn swordsman wanted to fully admit the truth.

Love was doubtful to his eyes as if he could earn someone in his life forever. To love and cherish a dangerous man like him, though his heart had its own sense of purity—in some cases, he thought.

“Hey.”

His voice perked up, right before his eyes slowly closed. Your pencil was set down, where your fingers ran through his hair. Scar eminent on his eye, and your delicate fingers trailed along with the memory where he only smirked. Satisfaction; not wanting to admit to it, he decided to keep his stubbornness tingling along a little bit longer.

“Yeah?” You responded.

He cleared his throat. “Have you ever been in love?”

And it was a straightforward question for him to ask, where you both sat in the crow’s nest underneath the pale moonlight. Silver light sparkling. You hummed; finger tapping the chin, and a sigh was audible.

“No. I’d like to experience it with someone special… though.”

Zoro chuckled, all before closing his eyes cautiously.

“As do I.”

Everything he needed, yearned—heart wanting for a specific desire; all of it could have been accomplished with your presence by his side.

Though you had no experience in combat, and you were mainly the one who had to tag along with the others to ensure your safety, Zoro had grown to a new beginning in his life. At least with you—a bond. Everlasting friendship. Only in hopes of growing it into something more, and even Sanji scoffed about it even from the stare he gawked at you every so often when you were alone on the ship.

“I was going to finish a painting back at the ship.”

“I like your company,” he noted, hands gripping the swords. “Plus… I also tend to get lost, as the others say. You’ll surely have better direction than me.”

You chuckled. “Sometimes.”

“I trust you on directions better than anyone else on the ship.”

“Ha?” Your eyebrow twitched in confusion. “Funny of you to say, I’d expect you to trust anyone else more to help guide you back to the ship.”

Zoro sighed, head tilting down. He eyed your fiddling fingers—a habit you tended to do due to your shyness, mostly around his presence. It could have been due to his intimidating nature that resembled nothing but a frightening swordsman with grimacing smirks. Was that a possible checkmark for being attractive? He’d ask the cook for an extra bit of love advice, but. No thanks.

“Well, if we find an art shop here, I’ll buy you anything you need,” Zoro stated, eyes furrowing ahead of him on the dirt path. Gifts. That was a good clue to ensure his feelings for you—truly, absolutely, had to be.

Zoro was not a man of romance, clearly.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said. “It’s nice to walk around and get off the ship every so often.”

“You’re always occupied in another room or hiding in Chopper’s office,” Zoro noted. “Sometimes I feel like you’re trying to avoid me.”

“Wh—no,” you retorted, palms sweating. “I’m just not used to your crew’s company yet. I guess.”

“After a few months?”

“I’m a little weird.”

“It’s fine,” Zoro responded. “You prefer your alone time. I can respect that.”

“I’m not a very big fighter,” your head shook. “I like to avoid situations that’ll get me out of any trouble.”

Zoro snorted, fighting back a chuckle. “Luffy is the one that tends to create any trouble, I’m sure you know that by now, Y/N.”

Your eyes rolled. “For sure.”

“But you’re not avoiding me?” He asked, eyebrows raised.

Your head shook once more. “No. I like…”

“Hmm?” His feet stopped on the dirt path.

“I mean—” you coughed into your fist, turning away. Zoro eyed your behavior with curiosity, almost finding amusement in the delight. ‘How cute’, he thought, right before his eyes widened at the thought and he turned away. “I like your company the best. Luffy has his moments, Sanji’s very flirty for me, and the others are fine. It’s just…”

Zoro’s head tilted. “Go on.”

“I don’t know. You’re comfortable for me to be around. Maybe it’s because you nap and hang out with me in the crow’s nest when I want to be alone to do my sketches.”

“I did say I like your company.”

“I know, and I’m saying I like yours right back.”

He laughed, raising his hand to pat your head, right before your lips pursed into a flustered line. When your body turned, causing your hands to fall upon your arms to provide some type of heat due to the chilly air—and, realistically, a fidget in order to cope with the flustered state you were in—Zoro took note.

His hands grasped onto his green kimono, right before he swooshed it around your figure. A gasp echoed, where his body remained still. Heart beating into infinity; countless beats that were continuing in a rapid face. Sudden maroon tickled his cheeks, though his stoic expression attempted to keep his blushing state at bay.

“Hey,” you spoke, grasping onto the sleeves of his kimono. “Aren’t you going to be cold too?”

“I’ve trained in extreme weather conditions when there were blizzards out,” Zoro responded, keeping his hands on your shoulders. “A little wind is not enough to bother me.”

“I feel bad.”

“Why?”

“Well, ‘cause it’s yours.”

“And I offered it to you. Don’t be silly.”

You wanted to smack him—out of childish antics, of course. Not to purposefully tick him off.

“Okay, but if you shiver, don’t get mad at me,” you pouted.

He laughed. ‘Why… so damn cute?’ Zoro thought again, only to mentally slap himself from the protruding thoughts creeping in about your personality. Though he couldn’t help it.

And after a passing ten minutes, you both ended up in a simple city, where wagons creaked from their wheels and passengers were minding their own business, trapped in their own worlds. Zoro’s presence was known to you, keeping your body close to his—through his fingers twitched, only wanting to grab ahold of your hand. An easy excuse for this was that so you couldn’t get lost or—maybe, even he wouldn’t get lost himself.

Not a bad excuse, really.

“Where do you want to go?” You asked, hiding deeper into his kimono. “I’m not sure what you wanted to do.”

“Just wander around. The cook went on his own to grab ingredients and food, while Luffy and Usopp went on their own path,” Zoro explained. “Franky and Chopper offered to stay back at the ship. And I’m only assuming the others are on their own somewhere around here.”

“Any particular reason why you wanted me to come?”

He turned to you, earrings dangling from the wind. “Told you, I like your company. Also didn’t wanna get lost. I trust you better than anyone else, remember?”

“I know, but—”

“Let’s take a look around,” he interrupted hastily, quickly rubbing the back of his head awkwardly.

Zoro stood for a moment, causing you to look at him. Face completely puzzled, much to his head. ‘What would that damn cook do?’ He thought to himself, all before gazing down at his hand before twirling his fingers around. You gawked at him, wondering if others were staring at how he paid more attention to his open hand rather than the scenery around him.

“Uh, Zoro?” You blinked. “What the hell are you—”

“I have a favor,” he retorted.

You gulped. “Um, okay. What is it?”

‘This is harder than I thought,’ his mind brushed a subtle thought, only to fight back a forced chuckle.

“Sorry,” Zoro sighed, right before slapping his face with his palm—lost in disbelief.

‘What the hell am I doing?’

“What the hell are you doing?”

Christ—did you just read his mind?

He coughed into his fist, all before he shook his head. Zoro bit his bottom lip, right before throwing his hand down to grab ahold of yours. Your widened eyes caused his heart to race. Mind lost in a daze, completely overwhelmed by the want for more. A little more affection to ease the tension of his heartstrings strumming along to his rapid beats. A moment so little, yet Zoro did not want to forget it.

Your fingers intertwined with his while you tried to fight back the chuckle escaping your lips while Zoro looked away, unamused with his own weird behavior.

“If you wanted to hold my hand…” you murmured, looking down. “You could’ve just said so.”

“Oh, yeah?” Zoro quipped, gritting his teeth while covering the blossom of roses tinting his cheeks with his palm. “My bad. Didn’t wanna make it more uncomfortable for you.”

“Huh?” You blinked. “No… I kind of like this.”

“Well,” he exhaled. “Don’t let go.”

You smiled; eyes flourishing to full bloom.

“I won’t.”

Zoro stood near the shelves with full attention to your curious expressions. Eyes wandering from different brushes on the shelves as canvases were laid out amongst the walls. Ranging from acrylic to watercolor, all portray different fantasies and universes from single brush strokes. Your mind remained lost in thought; hand in hand with his, where he eyed down the knuckles and brushed his thumb across yours.

A mental note that he was around—just to ensure that he was nearby.

Zoro’s eyes darted near the front door, where whispers were audible of a group of Marines stepping foot on the island in search of the pirates. And he groaned mentally, fighting back a glare to the light illuminating from the outside.

‘Let’s hope our idiot captain didn’t get us tangled in any mess this time,’ he wondered.

“Is something wrong?”

Your soft voice caused his eyes to widen, only to where he fought back a grunt and only to force a tug of his lips, portraying half of a smile, and then he gave a head pat. “We might have to get going soon if we don’t want any trouble,” he stated; you nodded. “Is there anything you want here?”

“Honestly, I think I’m okay,” you said. “It’s nice to look at other people’s artwork, though.”

“I don’t have the skills or talent like you and some other people do,” Zoro spoke, gazing up at a watercolor painting on the wall of empty farmland. Peaceful. Much like the kind of future Zoro hoped for his—maybe. “Well, when it comes to all this artsy stuff.”

“That’s okay,” you smiled shyly. “At least you’re skilled and attentive to any danger around. I don’t have any of that.”

“You’ll find your own ways of protecting yourself,” Zoro responded. “But I’ll be there to protect you.”

‘Huh?’

“What?”

Zoro gulped, placing a palm on his head before his lips began trembling. “I mean—” he choked on his words. ‘No, no, I meant it,’ he spoke to himself mentally. “I want to protect you. I’m here for you.”

You blinked before smiling, rubbing his knuckles when your hands were interlocked with one another. “Everyone is so protective of each other in the crew…” you explained, eyes looking down. “I’m hoping that I can provide something to make the others comfortable around me.”

He looked at you, with full attention. He sighed, only before showing off a rare smile, causing your eyes to enlighten his expression even more. Zoro slowly placed his forehead on yours, not minding that you two were in a large aesthetic art shop—covered by different supplies amongst the walls and the pieces that were up for show.

“You seem to make everyone happy just the way you are,” he said sternly. “But I meant it when I say that I want to protect you.”

Your lips trembled, watching his deep stare into your own eyes with his forehead resting amongst yours. Warm. That was how he felt; safe, comely—a place to call home.

“If I can protect you too,” you laughed brightly. “I want to do the same.”

‘Stop… acting cute.’

Zoro smirked, pulling away before the stomping from the outside grew into loud thunder. His eyes darted from its rare soft composure to a more grimace glance. Not to be rudely interrupted by the irritating Marines, but it was best to find a way out of the shop as soon as possible—and hope that he’d be able to make sure you’d head back safely to the ship.

When the crowd of bantering Marines had died down from the outside, Zoro grabbed ahold of your hand and then dragged you out of the shop harshly. He murmured faint apologies, not wanting to cause you to fall into a frantic panic, but it was best to find the way out of the city fast—with the beating of his heart falling into a rapid marathon, he was truly uncomfortable with these consistent emotions.

Need, want, the desire to protect you—or just you. Every ounce of you, every fiber of your heart, and the brightening cherry blossoms blooming in your eyes for every rare occurrence that you are laughing around others. An unusual feeling of pink swirled inside him; as if pink and raspberry mixed together within his heart.

He liked it—and much to his surprise, he wanted more of it.

Happiness. With one person.

“We have to go,” Zoro said bluntly.

You nodded without arguing. “Ah, sure, okay. I think I heard that the Marin—”

“Let’s not talk about it in public, right now.”

“Got it.”

“Don’t let go of my hand, ‘kay?”

“Sure,” your bottom lip trembled. “Sorry.”

He looked back, still walking towards a familiar dirt path that you both walked across on. And God, let it be the correct route.

“Why’re you apologizing?” He asked, raising a brow.

“I feel like it’s my fault.”

“What—no,” he retorted. “You know the Marines have always been on our ass for a long time now. Don’t apologize; roll with what’s happening. We’re going to get back on the ship safely—that’s if the others made it back before anything shitty happens.”

He ran, with your hand tangled with his. No other questions, arguments, or bickering had been made. Zoro sensed the tingle of insecurity brewing within your stomach. He never understood much about that tension of anxiety—and uncertainty of one’s self. Though he did try to relate to it on a different basis when it only came to his own swordsmanship.

“Are we going the right way?”

You asked, and he nearly jolted on his steps. “I think so,” Zoro exhaled quickly, only to hear rustling near the trees after you both escaped the city. “You’re my guide. Lead us back home to the ship.”

“Do you hear that?”

“Loud and clear.”

And within seconds, he took out two swords, ready to twirl one into his mouth right before a sneaky Marine tried to get ahold of him. Silly gestures from these folks were something he had grown used to, only hopes of you not getting injured in any way.

“Watch it, Y/N!” He shouted, using the back of his sword to hardly push the soldier away back into the bushes. Zoro turned to you—eyes enlarged with your hands shaking. A pang of anxiety hit; it usually did, whenever your presence was in the sight of danger. ‘Why? Oh, yeah.’ He definitely knew, though did not fully wish to physically admit it.

“I—”

“Are you okay?” He asked. “That was nothing but you seem shaken up. Still not used to everything yet?”

“I mean, it still catches me off guard,” you spoke cautiously.

“Our ship has flown high off the sea and you’re still scared of one little Marine, huh?” He chuckled humorously, only to have you keep your head down. “Don’t worry about it. Glad to see that you’re safe.”

“I’m—”

“Don’t apologize,” Zoro interrupted sternly, voice blunt in its tone. “Stop apologizing for things that are out of your control.”

“I’m so—” you placed a palm over your mouth, letting out an awkward chuckle. “Ah, I was about to just—”

“I know,” he smirked, only to sigh afterward. “C’mon, we can’t wait any longer.”

“Ah. Right.”

Slowly, his smirk grew into a rare soft grin.

“You’re supposed to lead me back home. So take my hand, and try not to let go.”

“Figured I would find you here.”

You ignored the familiar voice, only to have you sit close to the Sunny’s head, where you rested your body on the railing. Zoro mentioned that you didn’t show up for dinner, nor did you try to snatch a plate after hours where you’d be the most comfortable.

The moon shone silver; constellations scarred with its stars. Navy blue looked appealing, with each star to guide one home. Zoro watched you look up, only to glance down at the sketchbook on your lap and then eye the stories up above. However, his eyes could only faint down to your quiet posture, where not one moment of eye contact was shared.

He sat down next to you, arms crossed; the kimono he lent you was still prominent around your body. Zoro wanted to comment on it, though he remained quiet and chose that actions were a more definite sense of speaking how he felt within the moment.

Scars would bleed, though at least, his heart believed in the identity of what home could be. To be with the Straw Hats—and to dream of a future with a person that he could cherish every moment with. One to protect, one that’d make his heart blossom roses and tulips in ways that he’d never imagined his own garden would grow—one to announce his sense of happiness and desire in a sentimental signal.

“You don’t have to talk,” he said before trailing his hand with yours.

He turned his head, knowing the growth of warmth creeping up the pillar of his neck. Though the stars above enlightened the fair bits of his skin tone, and you snuck a glance his way every so often.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” He asked; you didn’t nod, instead, you decided to respond back with the entanglement of your fingers with his—all in one.

“Remember,” Zoro said, gripping your hand tight. “I don’t want you to always feel alone.”

Shyly, you turned away, biting your bottom lip. Zoro watched your behavior, wondering if he had been pressing matters too far with the hand-holding. Though, part of his mind cheered him on—how it all felt right. Exactly as he pleased and wanted. And he exhaled tiredly, only to have him straighten his back against the wall of the ship.

“Zoro…”

Your voice soothed him, much like the waves of the sea. He raised a brow, trying to prevent his legs from shaking in nervousness. How could a swordsman like him be so voiceless with his own feelings—especially for you?

He was not like the cook, that was for sure.

(Thank God.)

“Yeah?” He responded.

You looked down, watching the empty page in your sketchbook. Hand lost in its shakes; moon glowed from afar. “Would you feel uncomfortable if I asked you for a favor?”

“Depends on the favor.”

“Would you?”

Zoro fought back a yawn. “It depends like I said. Although, if it’s you… don’t think you could make me feel uncomfortable, really…”

You blinked, slowly gripping onto the pencil with your free hand.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Okay, um.”

He blinked. “Yeah?”

“Is it okay if I could draw you?”

Zoro stared at you for a moment, with a brief pause, and the chilly wind to dangle his earrings. He huffed childishly, crossing his arms after letting your hand go, and then he rolled his head back against the wall of the ship.

“Would my usual pose be me when I take my naps?” He joked, showing off a hint of a smirk. “Go ahead.”

You eyed him for a brief moment, and your eyes locked onto his. A moment quiet and pleasant enough to capture a picture for a memento. Though an illuminating smile was enough to cause his heart to flutter, and he closed his eyes; smirk softening to a thin line. And you sketched him out, from shoulders and up.

For what was twenty minutes that seemed like forever, Zoro noted the sweet moment of peace. He offered night duty—again—only to capture your attention once more. And he replayed the short bickering of the cook in his head, on how to properly charm a woman and that Zoro never understood the difference between handling kitchen knives compared to his swords.

Anything to keep his head occupied, though he occasionally opened an eye to peek at you fully immersed with the dragging of a pencil upon rough paper. He was no artist, not unless it came with his sword styles, though Zoro was fully aware that he could manage to respect other people’s peak of creativity—he envied it, almost. With the pale moon above him to speak loudly of his feelings, at least, for the little moments he shared with you—he embraced his interest in others with your presence around.

Never did another person make him feel the way you did. Adventures with the Straw Hats were exhilarating. He was a man hungry for blood; thirsty for a battle if it meant for him to improve bit by bit in order to achieve his goal to be the world’s greatest swordsman.

However, you were different.

When did the adventures of just napping in the same room as you ever bring him a heavenly sound of peace? Or the moments where you both did not share many conversations yet he preferred to be around your space more than any of his other crewmates? Consistently, he asked himself—though the feelings were obvious from the start.

‘I think I’m in love with you.’

But how could he say those words?

“I think I’m done.”

He opened his eyes, and you turned your sketchbook over to show off his portrait. The lines were hatched, but he knew it was him. Truly, you were delicate with your own work—passionate with every stroke possible.

Zoro smiled softly, looking at the shading areas below his neck and on his face, most likely resembling the moon shining from up above.

“It’s beautiful,” he said. “Just like you.”

You choked. “Ha—”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way!” Zoro retorted, gritting his teeth from his sudden comment. “Shit, sorry to make it weird.”

“No, you’re fine, I just…”

His eyebrows elevated. “What is it?”

“I want to smack you for this.”

“What?”

“Like,” you groaned, shutting your sketchbook to a close. “The way you make me feel. I know how I feel about you, and it’s annoying me every time I get near you.”

He blinked, raising his head straight. “Y/N, list—”

“I’m sorry,” you exhaled, placing a palm on your face. “I probably ruined everything because of what I said but I don’t really care anymore. I think I love you.”

Zoro sat up properly, furrowing his eyebrows.

“I really screwed everything up, I didn’t mean—”

“Y/N, listen to—”

“I’m sorry, Zoro, can you forget what I—”

“Dammit, Y/N, listen to me!” He nearly shouted, only to get your attention properly before he threw his hands on your face, causing you to gasp. Zoro’s arms shook; eyes enlarged. His body was rushing in adrenaline, yet he showed no fear—for once, with his confusing feelings. “I didn’t mean to yell, but I need you to listen.”

Your shoulders lowered, giving him access to place his forehead down close to your neck.

“Can we please forget what I said?” You pleaded.

Zoro sighed, before slowly throwing his arms around you and then pulling you close to his embrace. Not once did he ever show this kind of affection to any other member—this was different. New. An open light at the end of a tunnel; and he smirked proudly, even with his lip quivering.

“No,” he responded harshly, before clearing his throat. “Because I love you too.”

“What?” You said, face shaking in surprise.

“I don’t know what the hell you do to me, but I got confused with my own damn feelings. Every time I’m around you, I can’t control myself right,” he confessed, gritting his teeth. His grip on your body tightened, causing you to gasp. “I feel like I have to protect everyone here, but with you. It’s different. Something about you makes me feel like I need to make sure you’re safe with me. That you can trust me.”

Zoro pulled away from the hug, only to keep his palms inching further up to your face. He sent off a soft smirk, blush prominent on his cheeks before exhaling.

“I’m pretty sure those feelings make it obvious on my end th—that I love you too.”

“Wh—Zoro,” you gulped. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t blame you. I never really say this stuff to… anyone.”

“But…” you grinned, fighting back tears in your eyes. You shakily put your hands on his arms, where he parted his lips at your quivering state. “I’m so glad you feel the same way.”

He nodded, right before he placed his lips on yours. In a surprising turn of events, you found yourself kissing him back, feeling the prominent smirk on his lips. Zoro noted the change of color within his heart throughout the kiss—from a dull contrast to a brightening, shade of pink, all colored on his cheeks and the swirly feeling within his chest. Not once did he regret the moment of tranquility.

When he broke the kiss, he grinned proudly, right before you threw yourself onto his chest. He fell back on the floor, only to chuckle deeply at your happy reaction. His hand met with your shoulders, and the grip from his other hand tightened around you protectively.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I… love you too,” you whispered back.

Time unknown; moon glistening above. His blush was eminent. Zoro chuckled pridefully, continuing to soothe your shaking shoulders with his hand.

“Did anyone know about… your feelings?” You asked.

He shrugged, smirking at the sky. “A certain cook, I guess.”

“Did you ask him for, like, I don’t know,” you laughed. “Love advice?”

Zoro rolled his head further back, only to see a cloud of smoke near the upper deck and a familiar man with blond hair. Due to the dark light, he wasn’t able to notice much, except for a smirk following suit from the familiar chef after he had lit his cigarette. Zoro told himself to lay off the fighting with Sanji, even for a bit—at least for a while.

Then, he eyed the clouds above him—all hiding stories beneath them with waves of constellations. A future that was meant to be calm, soothing, filled with endless harmony—to spend it with a special someone, in hopes that it would be you, where your souls intertwined at the blink of the ocean’s horizon.

Zoro couldn’t help but snicker at your words.

“Something like that.”

#zoro #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #one piece imagines #zoro imagines

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bbygrgu · 4 years ago

Text

clocks on the wall

a/n: first Levi fic. blame/thank @vennilavee. don’t come for my neck. enjoy.

warnings: swearing, violence, softness, slight ooc Levi at the end, no spoilers for season four (everything written takes place from the ova - season three).

word count: 7.1k

You had never been Underground before.

It was beautiful, in its own way. The city had its own glow to it, made up from yellows, blues, and greens. It was known that without lights, the city and its people would be covered in darkness. Something about the greens and blues hinted at that being a lie. That it wouldn’t have been completely dark below the surface.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when Erwin turned his head at the sound of cables slicing through the air, gas hissing, and the sound of an excited voice cheering, the echoes bouncing off the dirt and sentiment walls.

Erwin looked back at the three of you and the Military Police, the look on his face reading “that’s them.” It was after that moment, you began to understand the kind of reform Erwin was looking for and why Erwin had chosen these random Underground criminals as the example.

Well, maybe it wasn’t so random, knowing Erwin.

You carefully set aside the ODM gear retrieved from their beings, stepping to stand behind Erwin, yet in front of the three criminals. The light haired one locked his eyes on Erwin, though his face was thoughtful. The young woman’s eyes were wide with curiosity, but locked onto Erwin as well; only occasionally did she spare a glance at you.

The third one, who you assumed was the leader from his quietness, refused to move his gaze from the ground. Until Erwin stepped up to him, waiting for a response; was he trained in the military?

He gave Erwin a cold look, keeping to himself.

When his head was slammed into the dirty water, you watched the way the others reacted. They seemed… worried. But not in the sense that they were worried about the physical harm on him, but his head was pressed into a puddle of dirty water, jumping to answer Erwin’s questions.

You watched the way Erwin got close to the quiet man, so close that Erwin kneeled in the same puddle of dirty water that the man had his face in just moments ago. You paid attention to the surprise evident in the man’s face when Erwin offered for them to join the Survey Corps. The deathly cold, yet fiery look in his eyes when he finally looked up at Erwin.

“I’ll join the Survey Corps.”

It was the way he held himself up, dirty water dripping from the ends of his hair and raced off his chin, onto his white shirt; hair clinging to his skin, thin brows furrowed as he never broke eye contact with Erwin. It excited you.

“Introduce yourselves!”

Curiosity evident in your eyes, you watched as Levi’s gaze moved from your left to your right; from Erwin to Flagon. His gaze moved to the top of your head as he subtly shrugged, finally speaking up in a cool, nonchalant voice.

“The name’s Levi.”

Gasps. Murmurs followed. They’d never seen someone so confident, so sure of himself, so… not caring about what others said or thought of him. You couldn’t help the little twinge of the corner of your mouth.

Levi’s face remained stoic as the Commander chastised him for not having discipline, before Isabel Magnolia and Farlan Church introduced themselves. Stoic while it was Flagon’s squad that they would belong to. Stoic, with the exception of his piercing eyes focused on Flagon, disinterested yet scheming eyes, when Flagon glared at Levi; he was pissed off that he had to do the work that should’ve gone to pretty boy Erwin.

You smiled, huffing in amusement the moment Erwin made eye contact with you after the formation was dismissed. You were in Erwin’s squad, tasked with overlooking the trio’s training and making sure one of them, specifically Levi, didn’t kill Flagon.

You followed closely, hands behind your back, listening to Isabel excitedly guess where they were going. Farlan took in his surroundings, barely acknowledging Isabel, just looking around with wide eyes. For some reason, you thought they’d still be adjusting to the brightness on the surface or marveling at the sky, but you reminded yourself that maybe it was their first time up on the surface. Who were you to assume anything.

Flagon moved to the barracks, pushing the doors open, announcing that this was their sleeping quarters. It almost broke your heart when Flagon explained that women slept in a different section of the barracks, almost. With Isabel demanding to stay in the same room as her friends, Levi walked up to one of the bunks and what he did surprised you.

Levi reached his hand under the top bunk, dirt immediately falling from the surface he touched. You noticed the way Isabel and Farlan quickly closed in on themselves, worry etching itself across their faces. Their eyes frantically moved from the back of Levi’s head to his fingers, rubbing them together in an attempt to remove all the grime from his skin.

It clicked.

The worry etched on their faces as Levi inspected the cleanliness of the bunks. The worry that had been etched across their faces when Levi’s face was pressed into the puddle of dirty water.

It didn’t click for Flagon. You forget that he wasn’t there, that night at the Underground.

“You lot have been living in the dumps of the underground, but do try to keep it clean.”

“Huh?” Levi sneered, turning to glare up at Flagon.

You raised your eyebrows in amusement, deciding to step in when it got a little far over the line.

Levi took a step closer to Flagon, invading his personal space. Isabel and Farlan unsure of what to do in that moment. Do they protect their leader or do they show loyalty to their new commanding officer?

Flagon stuttered as he attempted to reign his authority over Levi. You bit back a smile, looking to the ground, squeezing your fingers behind your back. Farlan quickly stepped in, speaking up for Levi, apologizing, promising to keep the barracks clean.

With a scoff, Flagon walked away from the trio. You spared a glance back at the trio. Levi glaring at Farlan, his disbelief barely masked; Isabel was in complete shock in the back.

“Isabel, I’ll be outside to show you to the women’s section. Try not to take too long. I’ll see you two at training tomorrow,” you finally said. Levi’s eyes immediately rested on you, the scowl never leaving his face. You just smiled, offering a quick nod before twirling to make your way out of the room.

You smiled at the feeling of three pairs of eyes not leaving the back of your head.

“You say that they already know how to use the ODM gear?” Hange beamed, rubbing their hands together excitedly. You offered a simple nod, not helping the smile on your face as Hange nudged you a little too roughly on the way to the forest just outside of the castle.

You glanced over to see Isabel on a horse, riding around in ease. You tilted your head; were there horses in the Underground?

You didn’t see Farlan, but Levi was in the process of attaching the ODM gear to his being. You nodded Hange in his direction, telling them to give him his space. You noticed he wasn’t too fond of strangers, so who knew how’d he react to Hange’s… disregard to personal space.

Both of you stepped up next to Flagon, eager to watch Levi’s skills with the gear; you a little more than Hange, having already had a taste during the chase in the Underground that night.

You tucked your hands into the pockets of your jacket, left foot back and the toes of your boots pressed into the ground. You watched with fascination, sucking your bottom lip in and raking your teeth over the skin.

You nearly bit the skin when Levi pulled the blade with his right hand from its place with ease and elegance, holding the handle so that the blade protected his forearm, so that it mimicked his movement. The same way he held the knife to defend himself against Erwin’s attack. It made the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention.

How did -

“That just might happen to you. All I have to do is slice the titan’s neck, right?” Quiet. “I’ll do it my way.”

You quickly stepped up, putting an arm across Flagon’s chest. He was fuming, but you knew that if Erwin wanted them for a reform, that they were to be trusted, that everyone needed to trust the trio’s doings.

“Give him a chance. You haven’t seen what he can do,” you warned quietly.

Levi stopped, throwing a glance over his shoulder, locking eyes with you for a brief moment just before he went off into the forest, flipping and twirling with ease.

Your eyes never left Levi’s form, even as he became smaller and smaller, completely disappearing into the training course. Not even when Hange began to babble and squeal in excitement over Levi’s movements, regardless of the lack of formal training.

“Why do you continue to defend him?” Flagon glowered.

“Why do you continue to hold a grudge towards him? Has he done anything to you personally, Flagon? Or are you just someone who doesn’t take well to someone that is better skilled? Someone with natural talent?” You simply asked, rubbing your thumb against Akiko’s, your horse, muzzle. Your other hand carefully brushed through her mane, playfully twirling it at the end.

Eyes moving to Flagon, you arched a brow, urging him to speak his truth. Instead, Flagon scoffed, rolling his eyes and crossed his arms across his chest. You rolled your eyes, turning back your attention back to Akiko, except -

“You don’t think that it’s a problem that criminals were recruited into the Scout Regiment? Into the Survey Corps? People look up to us. Now they’re going to look up to them?” Flagon fumed, disgust evident when he spat out the last word.

With that, you quietly apologized to Akiko before moving your body towards Flagon, rushing him until he was pressed against the stone wall, eyes wide in bewilderment. Finger pressed to his chest, jabbing into his sternum.

“You wanna know what I think, Flagon? I think that people like you are a fucking problem. You think the whole world knows they’re criminals? You think it matters to the people who aren’t in the regiment? Hmm?,” you growled, “you think that the people that look up to us know what we’ve done to survive? That they’ll ever know?”

Flagon was growing red in the face and you only pushed harder, your face only centimeters from his.

“Who gives a shit if they’re criminals? Are they criminals because they did what they could to survive? Or are they criminals because you and every other fucking person who thinks they’re God almighty for living on the surface assume that anyone from the Underground is just that, a criminal?”

The sound of hooves clicking against the ground, followed by feet landing on the ground snapped you out of your rage. You backed off Flagon, your face burning hot, your eyes narrowed in anger.

Flagon held your gaze before scoffing, brushing past you and out of the stable.

With a deep exhale, you shut your eyes and leaned your head back, hands clenched at your sides. You rolled your head to side, eyes growing slightly wide at Levi giving you a stoic look. No glare, no scowl, no furrowed brows or narrowed eyes.

You cleared your throat, straightened yourself out, moving to grab your things and bid Akiko a good afternoon, promising to visit her after dinner. With a gentle kiss to her muzzle, you rubbed the side of her face and left for the exit.

“You’re an idiot if you think defending us will get you on our good side.”

You stopped in your tracks, looking over your shoulder. Levi was facing his own horse, not bothering to spare you a glance. His hands gentle on his horse’s muzzle, reassuring, despite his cold demeanor towards you.

“And you’re a dumbass if you think I give shit about being on your good side, Levi.”

You walked out.

Levi was quick to discover that cloudless nights were his favorite. They didn’t remind him of the Underground.

The emeralds stuck to the surface’s dirt were nothing compared to the stars shining brilliantly in the night sky. The rich shade of blue, almost black, brought a sort of peacefulness over Levi.

Making his way to the top of the castle, Levi quietly moved to stand outside. With a cup of tea in his hand, he leaned over the edge, elbows resting on the bricks. He felt relaxed, until he glanced to the side and saw a figure. Sitting with their back against the castle, but on the raised lookover, knees pulled to their chest.

Levi allowed an annoyed sound to leave his body, rolling his eyes when he realized it was you. He refused to move from his spot, head turned towards the crescent shape in the sky. He was surprised that your presence didn’t… bother him.

Levi was also surprised that you didn’t say anything to him, didn’t even bother acknowledging him.

Levi arched a brow, sparing another glance towards you, memories from today running through his mind.

A Military Police officer called you Erwin’s bitch, taunting you, sneering that you would never be anything more than Erwin’s bitch.

Levi scoffed at the memory of you grabbing the man by the neck, slamming him down to the ground and beating the shit out of him.

Erwin just stared, watching you beat the shit out of the officer until his blood staining your shirt, splattered on your face. You finally had enough, simply wiping your face with the sleeve of your jacket, excusing yourself before walking off as nothing happened.

Levi almost smiled, taking a sip of tea.

“I enjoy the cloudless nights, too,” your voice pulled Levi out of his minitrance.

He turned to look at you with disinterest, but out of respect, after seeing what you were capable of today.

Your eyes never left the sky. The moon reflected in your irises, soft white glow accenting your features, making you… surreal.

“Seems like you do, too,” you continued, “Not to be a total creep. I just noticed that when the skies are clear and the heavens are on full display, the three of you sneak away.”

Levi’s eyes widened, a small gasp leaving him. You finally looked over offering a shy, apologetic smile.

“I don’t blame you. It’s a beautiful sight.”

You finally moved from your spot, carefully stepping down and stretching. With a tight lipped smile, you made your way to the door.

“They remind me of all the shit we went through, to be grateful,” Levi bullshitted, making you stop in your tracks.

For a moment, the silence was back, only to be broken by your short laugh.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” and you left, leaving Levi on his own before Isabel and Farlan joined him.

It had been two weeks since the return from the twenty-third expedition beyond the walls. Training resumed, research on titans continued. Erwin asked for your thoughts on the revised works of his new formation for the next expedition. This last one worked well, but Erwin strived for the best.

After confessing that he only joined the Corps to get close to Erwin for a job, that would’ve resulted in the death of Erwin and Erwin confessing that he knew all along, Levi was quieter than usual; especially after the death of Isabel and Farlan, leaving Levi alone.

You managed to pull some strings with the help of Erwin.

Isabel and Farlan’s bodies were cremated separately from the rest of the fallen scouts. Hidden underneath your green cloak, rested the urn.

It was early morning. The sky was still dark, with the exception of the light purples and blues that cleared the path for the sun’s journey across the heavens. They were your favorite shades of blues, even pinks. The quietness, the stillness that came with it was also your favorite.

Birds beginning their daily songs, the coolness in the hair and the smell of dew covered grass. The softness of the ground beneath your feet as you made your way to the edge of the cliff.

You knew Levi would be there. He’d been waking up early in the mornings for the past four days, since your squad (as you were taking temporary command for Erwin) and Flagan’s squad provided backup for Hange’s squad for the next week, due to some research and intel.

Just as you predicted, Levi sat on the cliff, feet dangling off the edge. His cloak draped over his shoulders, but you could tell he wasn’t in uniform.

You knew that he could tell you were behind him. That didn’t stop you from getting nervous. Your steps slowed, your heartbeat picked up, cheeks burning. You paused, inhaling slowly, doing your best to push the nerves aside.

“What could possibly be so important that you had to bother me first thing in the morning?”

You carefully walked closer, stopping right next to him but never sitting. The urn still hidden under your cloak, eyes softening at the sight of the first birds taking flight this early in the morning. Somehow, the urn was colder than the early morning.

“I never get tired of waking up to see the sunrise, or to see the sun hide behind the horizons and letting the moon paint the heavens in brilliant whites,” you implored softly. A little smile found its way onto your face for just a brief moment.

You inhaled, the smell of dew waking your senses, reminding you of the urn sitting in your hands. With the most care, you carefully unveiled the urn from underneath your cloak, catching Levi’s attention.

“I pulled some strings. All the fallen scouts are cremated, but their ashes are usually buried together. Doesn’t make much sense, but then again… you can’t bury all those bodies,” you rambled mindlessly, “They spent their entire life underground and I just… why spend eternity below the surface as well?”

Nervously, your eyes shifted from daybreak, past the urn and down to Levi. Lips parted in surprise that Levi was looking up at you. Furrowed brows, eyes wide in complete shock; his gaze locked onto the urn. The veins in his fingers visible from the way he was gripping his teacup.

You cleared your throat, eyes immediately moving to the ground. His reaction… it was too intimate for you to witness.

You inhaled deeply, quietly, taking a step back to set the urn beside him. You offered a small smile, never turning to look at him directly. Another few steps back before you fully turned, moving away from Levi’s spot.

Your heart pounded against your chest, threatening to break a couple ribs. You couldn’t explain to yourself why you were feeling this way after leaving the urn with -

You made your way back to the cottage, despite the quiet “thank you” you heard, tempting you to look back, to reassure that it wasn’t some figment of your imagination.

Wall Maria fell.

You watched in horror as the Colossal Titan disappeared, titans pouring in front the opening and spreading throughout Shiganshina. The screams and cries of the people embedding itself into your brain. Haunting you.

Move. Do something. Do anything

You stood there, frozen. Titans were inside the city. People were dead. People were going to keep dying unless they evacuated… or they didn’t get eaten by titans.

It was at the sound of one of the Garrison’s Captains calling out for the gate to be closed that brought you back to your senses.

“Do not close those fucking gates,” you snapped, pulling out the hand grips of your ODM gear from your jacket pockets, hidden underneath your cloak, “You are not going to leave these people to die. You are not going to abandon humanity!”

You couldn’t kill all those titans yourself. You were only to deliver paperwork to Pixis, but you found Rico instead.

You didn’t deliver the paperwork. You watched innocent people die; people who never imagined that they would live to see the walls breached by the titans. You watched the Garrisons shoot cannons at a new type of mutant titan. You screamed at the Garrisons to keep the gate open, zipping around to help whoever you could, to save those that you could. You cleared the gate of as many people as you could when the mutant titan ran towards the inner wall, the only escape.

The sound of Garrison Scouts taunting children pulled you out of your trance. He said something about the titans eating more citizens of Shiganshina, that it would’ve helped with the food situation. It made your blood boil.

You growled, reaching for your hand-grip, mind set on pulling out a blade and holding it to his neck. Until a small boy kicked him in the shin, screaming that they didn’t see the way the titans came into Shiganshina; they didn’t see family members, neighbors and friends get their bodies ripped in half.

You stopped when another small boy, a blond, came rushing to his friend’s aide. Passing the brunette’s outburst as a side effect of hunger, of trauma. People turned, their attention drawn to the dispute.

You could tell the scout was flustered, not wanting the rest of the people to think badly of him. To know his truth.

The officer walked back to his group. Just as he clicked his tongue, ready to rant, you quickly joined them. His eyes narrowed at the sight of you, but immediately widened when he noticed the symbol on your jacket.

With ease, you pulled him behind the corner of the building into the alley, making sure his friends witnessed everything. A groan left his lips when you slammed him against the wall, hand wrapped around the collar of his shirt.

“Such a shame to have such shitty people in the Garrison branch. Have you no humanity in you? Or are you a titan in disguise?” you sneered, “Would be a great reason as to why you’re in this branch of the military. Easy access, right?”

You watched the fear in his eyes.

“No, it’s not a disguise. It’s the fact that you truly are the shittiest of all people. You’re disgusting,” you growled, pushing him harder against the wall and letting go, watching him fall to the ground before walking away.

There was a soft knock on the door before you peeked in, offering Levi a shy smile. You quickly gave a small wave, pushing yourself in through the opening in the door. You closed the door behind you, leaning back onto it.

“Why are you trying to be cute?” Levi rolled his eyes, pulling down the bandana wrapped around his face like a mask.

“I don’t need to try, bug. I just am,” you replied quietly, pushing off the door to make your way to his desk.

Levi gave you a look the moment you tried to sit on his desk, swatting your thigh before you touched the desk. You offered a bashful smile, holding your hands in surrender and standing to your full height.

“Well. I just wanted to see if you were in the mood to go to the market. Mike mentioned new teas and how the smells were damn near intoxicating. I’ve been meaning to restock on some chamomile,” you trailed off, mindlessly dusting off the front of his shirt with one hand.

“Mmm. Give me twenty minutes. Maybe I’ll get extra black tea since I seem to have finished it quicker than usual,” Levi simply stated, arching an eyebrow at you.

You didn’t bother fighting the smile creeping across your face, eyes glued to where your hand rested on Levi’s chest. You finally spared a glance when Levi’s hand wrapped around your wrist, thumb rubbing back and forth against the back of your hand.

“You have good taste,” you shrugged, locking eyes with him.

Levi rolled his eyes, moving his hand from your wrist to hold your fingers, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. You couldn’t help the heat in your cheeks, shyly breaking away from his gaze and settling to your skin against his lips.

Twenty minutes later, you found yourself walking beside Levi. His hands tucked into the pockets of his black suit jacket. Levi’s hand-woven basket laid in the crook of your elbow, your other hand constantly checking your skirt pocket to reassure yourself that your money hadn’t fallen out.

“Would you stop being stupid and just put your money in the basket?”

“Levi, you and I both know you would have my head if I even thought about placing dirty money in the same basket as the goods.”

“Not if you had your money in that shitty excuse of a coin purse.”

“It is not a shitty excuse. I happen to really like it.”

“Which is why you forgot it.”

You shot Levi a side glance, pursing your lips. Levi huffed in amusement, holding his hand out. You sighed, slowing down and carefully placing your money in Levi’s hand.

Levi’s fingers closed around yours, but not all the way. Instead, his fingers easily maneuvered to slip between your fingers, but stopping at the tips. His fingers gently brushed against the middle joints of your fingers, giving your hand a slow squeeze before letting go, tucking your money into his pocket, walking off and leaving you stunned at such an assertive form of pda.

“Are you just going to stand there all day with your mouth open for the flies or are you going to buy some new tea leaves?” Levi called over his shoulder.

You made your way to the marketplace with a smile never leaving your face, the warmth of Levi’s hand lingered on yours.

At the stall that Mike mentioned, you and Levi immediately parted to opposite sides for specific interests. You sorted through the various types of herbal teas. You reached for the mint chamomile tea when a tin of loose black tea leaves was held up to you.

Leaning towards the tin, you sniffed, picking out the prepackaged peppermint tea for your own sniff test. Until Levi’s disapproving tongue click grabbed your attention.

“What?”

“Are you too good for loose leaves, brat?” Levi grumbled, moving the tin of black tea leaves from you. Your hand shot out to grab his wrist, pulling the tin back under your nose.

“You’re the brat” you sniffed, narrowing your eyes at him. Levi rolled his eyes and moved his tin again.

“Here,” Levi gave you an empty tin.

“What’s this for?”

“For your tea, dumbass.”

“Why does your face look like that?” Levi deadpanned quietly, shooting a glare Hange’s way after a particularly ear shattering squeal.

You held Akiko’s rein in one hand, the other rubbing and tugging at your fingers. The smallest of frowns painted on your lips, brows slightly furrowed. Your eyes observant as ever, yet there was sadness to them. A look so rare, Levi’s only seen it once or twice in all the years he’s known you.

“Bad feeling,” you muttered.

Everyone around you cheered, sending the best of wishes on behalf of all of humanity. Eyes bright and hopeful, children in complete awe at the sight of the Survey Corps. It did nothing to hide the fear burning bright in your eyes.

“About the expedition?” Petra piped up from your left.

Still tugging at your fingers, your gaze moved from the worn rein up to Levi. He stared back from the side of his eye, his brow arched in feign interest, but you knew that look in his eyes. That gleam of concern, the way he softened by focusing on you, the way only you knew he would.

“I just feel like… there’s something not right… about today.”

The bad feeling deep in your gut turned out to be another Colossal Titan kicking the wall, titans making their way in and hundreds of rookies losing their lives, their first times coming face to face with titans after the last evaluations were taken.

You were in Trost District, skimming for Titans, sending your squad to check around Hange and Levi’s respective squads.

You spotted three titans. Two to the right, one to the left. You decided for the two on the right.

Flipping through the air, pulling blades from their slots, opposite of yours, you heard Hange’s cheerful yelps. You heard the sound of something through zipping around, cutting through air. You could hear him inhale deeply, preparing for the impact of cutting through titan skin.

Quickly, you changed direction, aiming for the titan that was still standing, going for the kill when the sound of Levi’s boots hitting the metal roof rang through the air.

Just as you got closer, one hand twisted the handgrip. The blade was no longer upright, but held downwards, down the length of your arm; as if protecting your forearm.

You furrowed your brows, shooting the grapple hook into the titan’s neck and shooting yourself through the air, forcing your own momentum to twirl your body, cutting off a perfectly clean slice off the nape.

You landed beside Levi, eyes on his bloody hands. His handkerchief already working at his fingers, the gaps between the finger slots. He grumbled about how gross it was.

You both looked up, eyes locking. Levi’s eyes quickly scanned your body, checking for any visible signs of injuries before settling on your face. With a click of his tongue, his gaze moved back down to his bloody hands.

“You have blood on your disgusting face,” Levi pointed out quietly.

“So wipe it off.”

Levi shot you a look of warning, clicking his tongue. You grinned softly, jumping off the building, making your way down to check on your squad members, who turned their heads in the direction of Erwin.

“Pull back.”

Levi glared at Erwin, demanding to know what the change was for, to know if his men died in vain.

“Titans are traveling in groups and they’re heading north. It’s like five years ago.”

Memories of Shiganshina came flooding back. You couldn’t help the way your eyes widened, full of disbelief, of bewilderment. You couldn’t help the slight part of your lips, breathy exhales causing your body to tremble. Your eyes shot up to Erwin, then to Levi.

Levi’s eyes were trained on you. Watching every move, from the smallest twitch in your face to the way your hands shook and rubbing against each other, from trying to ground yourself. He simply agreed, telling his squad to start moving, telling your squad to start their move, too.

Blinking rapidly, you shook head and shoulders. You cleared your throat, regaining your composure. With a deep inhale, you looked over at Levi, waiting for you with narrowed eyes, lips parted.

“I’m fine. It’s fine,” you reassured quietly, sliding your blades back into place.

You walked past Levi, only to be grabbed by your bicep and twirled around, facing Levi. His facial features were soft, regardless of that damn stoic look. His eyes scanned over your face before locking with yours, his hand never leaving your arm.

“Focus on your squad.”

You furrowed your brows, preparing to counter when Levi continued, giving your arm a squeeze.

“Promise you’ll focus on your squad.”

“Levi, I always -”

“No. My duty is humanity, to my fallen men, to prevent anymore from dying in vain. I can’t fulfill my duty if you aren’t focused on your squad.”

Oh.

“I… promise.”

The old Scout Regiment headquarters was as beautiful as you remembered, at least from the outside. With the exception of weeds, vines, and grime on the once pristine white bricks.

The sun shone brightly, casting a glow that reminded you of moonlight. The route to the castle was just as breathtaking with its path through the forest. You loved the way the sun peeked through openings of the trees’ canopy.

You rode alongside Levi, the hood of your cloak pulled over your head. You listened to Oluo explain the history of the old headquarters, why it stopped being of use by the Scouts. A giggle erupted from both you and Petra when Oluo bit his tongue.

Once arrived at the entrance of the castle, you called out to your own squad members to check the perimeter. Levi scoffed, eyes looking up at the sky.

You softened when you noticed Levi looking at one specific spot, at the tallest point of the castle. There was an opening there, where Levi broke the windows. Where the urn rested.

Akiko nudged against Levi’s horse, Ryu, before moving towards the outdoor stables. You shot him a small smile, turning around to join Eld and Gunther. You could feel Levi’s eyes boring into your back, your smile never fading.

You pulled out a simple white bandana, tying it loosely around your neck, but enough for it to cover your nose and mouth when you entered the castle. You grabbed another white bandana, holding it out for Levi as he walked up to stand beside you.

“Let’s get to work,” Levi called out, grabbing the bandana from your hand and easily untying the one around your neck. You glared at him, reaching to take it back from him, however he already made his way inside.

“Jackass,” you muttered, whistling loudly to get your squad’s attention.

Your squad and you handled cleaning the headquarters from the outside. Picking up debris, cutting the weeds, cleaning the horse stables and providing fresh water and hay, and scrubbing the castle’s exterior. The soft chatter and singing of birds filled the silence, never disrupting the peacefulness to it all.

With the use of the ODM gear, your squad and you were able to clean the windows and scrub the grime the best you could. You reached for one of the wooden excuses of a window, but beaten when Levi pushed it open, doors slamming against the brick.

Levi’s eyes bored into yours, leaning further outside of the window, closer towards you. You rolled your eyes, leaning in, too.

“Of course you’d be in this room,” you murmured, pulling down the bandana from your face.

Levi scoffed, reaching out to grab you by the lapel of your jacket, pulling you so that your legs came through the window, ass on the window sill. Your hand quickly shot out to grab him by the juncture of his shoulder and neck, fingers dancing over the knotted cloth.

“All work, but no play?” Levi arched an eyebrow, eyes scanning over your face. There was a hint of playfulness that only you would ever catch.

“Oh, there’s some play,” you grinned, fingers working quickly to untie the bandana around his neck. Your other hand hits the trigger of your handgrip, gas turning the turbines of your ODM’s main housing, pulling you out of the window and into the sky.

You winked at Levi, waving the white bandana before disappearing to another area of the castle.

Later in the night, after Hange got Levi’s permission for Eren to join her the next day and Eren being dumb enough to ask about the kinds of experiments that Hange would preforming on the two captured titans, you found yourself in the stables.

It was a cloudless night, the moon outshining the stars that scattered across the heavens. You smiled to yourself, hearing footsteps approaching.

You kept your back to the entrance, a cup of chamomile tea in one hand and the other hand held an apple out to Akiko. Ryu moved, head turned towards Akiko, as if to snatch the apple from her mouth.

“Ryu, of course I brought you one, too,” you chuckled quietly, pulling another apple and holding it out to him.

Ryu eagerly took the apple into his mouth, closing his eyes. You simply smiled, rubbing his muzzle, taking a small sip from your teacup.

“I didn’t forget about you,” you cooed, looking at Levi over your shoulder. Your eyes moved to the small table beside the entrance, gesturing to the hot cup of black tea.

Levi grunted approvingly, making a grab for his tea before walking up to you. His free hand reached up to pet Ryu’s muzzle, hand slowly settling over yours. You couldn’t help the heat in your cheeks, turning your head to look at Levi.

Levi’s face remained turned towards Ryu, yet his hand intertwined with yours. Elegantly, Levi managed to twist his fingers to cup yours, slowly tucking his thumb into your palm and fingers splayed over the back of your hand. He turned his face carefully to look at you, the same usual bored look on his face, but his eyes were soft.

The space between Levi’s eyebrows was flat, his overall facial features relaxed. He looked at you with such adoration, the corners of his mouth slightly turned upwards, bringing your hand to his chest as your fingers curled about his thumb.

“Thank you, sweet girl.”

“Come on,” you muttered to Akiko, moving the reign to get her to go faster, “come on, Akiko.”

The cottage that Levi’s squad resided in came into view, only encouraging you to push Akiko to move faster.

The sun was low, no longer the harsh heat beating down on you. The sky was blue, but littered with beautiful orange highlights against swirls of clouds. The breeze felt so good against your neck, your forehead.

You jumped off the moment you were close enough, trusting Akiko to move closer to the house as you ran to the door, not bothering to knock. You stood at the threshold of the dining room kitchen.

“Captain Levi,” you called out, stopping at the sight of everyone gathered at the table. Hange visibly shaken at the seat next to the window, Levi looking at you with furrowed brows; you never called him by his title.

There was a gleam in his eyes as you approached him, his body tensing.

“I have a message from Erwin. Nifa went to tell him about Pastor Nick,” eyes sparing a glance at Hange, “but she gave me this when she returned.”

You handed Levi a carefully folded note, your fingers brushing against his. Levi broke his gaze from yours, quickly looking over the note. He shot you a grim look, telling everyone to grab their things and move out; make it look like they were never there.

You watched everyone move around quietly, catching soft murmurs about what the note must have said. You moved your gaze back to Levi, never moving from your spot whilst he walked up to you, tucking the note back into your jacket, underneath your cloak.

You shot your hand out to cup his neck, fingers dancing along the nape of his neck, barely brushing against the shaved hair. Levi’s own hand moved from your pocket to the hem of your jacket, pulling you closer.

“I have to go back. I’ll meet you back in Trost District. Just… please be careful,” you whispered, eyes worriedly searching his face.

“Take the opposite path you came,” Levi commanded quietly, his eyes serious as they stared into yours, “outsmart those shitheads.”

“Levi,” you whispered, the worry seeping through, into your voice.

What Levi did next caught you off guard. He leaned in, placing a kiss on your forehead then on the crown of your head. His hand moved to your hips, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“I’ll see you in Trost District,” Levi murmured, pushing you back to the door.

You couldn’t help the fucking stinging behind your eyes, not wanting to take your eyes from Levi.

“Go. I promise I’ll see you in Trost District. I need to focus on the kids,” Levi warned you softly, cupping your cheek, “We’ll see you soon.”

You nodded, running back out, jumping on Akiko and commanding Akiko back the way you came. You spared one glance back, watching the kids pile out in brown cloaks. It was the last thing you saw before directing Akiko down a different path.

You watched in horror at the sight of the titan crawling through the fields, mouth wide open and eyes watering. It was… it had to be bigger than the Colossal Titan. There was no way that it wasn’t.

Everything it touched burned, everything it was in close proximity went up in flames. It’s trails created a new valley in the ground, fires jumping off its body and onto the surrounding trees.

Your hands went limp, your eyes never leaving the creature, and for a brief moment, doubt spread throughout your body.

How the fuck were you going to take it down?

“Commander Erwin! It’s Squad Levi! They have Eren and Historia!”

Your head snapped in the direction that the Scout came from, watching as Squad Levi came right from behind.

Your eyes watered at the sight of Levi, your body shuddering in relief. You couldn’t help the soft sob that raked through your body, turning your head down, hand clamped over your mouth and eyes squeeze shut.

Slow inhale, deep exhale.

“Oi,” Levi muttered, nudging your foot with his.

You shook your head, damning the tears that wouldn’t stop trickling down your face.

“Oi,” Levi breathed, reaching over to pull your hand away from your mouth, “look at me.”

You sniffled, eyes narrowed, finally looking at him. Your vision was blurry, but you knew you weren’t imagining the soft look he was giving you, not giving a shit of who saw.

Levi’s eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes looking you over before locking with yours. His hand wrapped around yours, pulling you closer until you were centimeters away.

“I made a promise. I would have expected you, of all people, to know I keep my promises,” Levi mocked.

“You’re such an ass,” you sniffled, wiping your tears. You tried to pull away, to no avail.

The corner of Levi’s mouth quirked upwards, his hand pulling you closer while leaning in, capturing your lips against his for a brief moment. Your face burned hot, pulling away and looking around in bewilderment.

No one was around. A moment of privacy.

You allowed yourself a moment to be selfish, looking back at Levi and stealing another kiss.

This one was different. You poured everything you had, everything you felt; fear, relief, shock, sadness, hope, love. Levi reprociated the kiss. His own feelings poured into it; his own hopes, his own relief, his own moment to be selfish, just for a moment. Even the strong had their weaknesses, had to recharge.

Erwin called out that it was time to move.

Levi pulled away, but you pulled back in for one more quick kiss.

Levi hummed lowly, pulling away, shooting you a look of warning.

“Let’s go. They’re not going to wait on your ass forever,” Levi scoffed, moving Ryu away and ahead of you.

“Yeah, but you will,” you murmured, following him.

#levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot fic #captain levi x reader #levi ackerman #snk x reader #aot x reader

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running-on-narrativium · 1 year ago

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Y’know, it’s a shame that we never got to see an actual interaction between Fred and his wife in the Discworld books. I mean, we *hear* about them interacting and get an idea of what their relationship is like from that, and I also understand it’s a part of the joke about them being so busy they communicate through notes they leave for each other, but still. We don’t even learn the woman’s first name.

Yet, despite this I’ve managed to piece together what little information we’re get about her throughout the Watch books to get a general idea about what she’s like and what she does that keeps her so busy all the time. So, let’s review what we do know for sure about this woman of mystery.

She has a job that keeps her extremely busy.

She’s been doing said job for at least as long as she’s been married to Fred.

She is one of the few people that will directly call out Sergeant Colon when he’s being an idiot.

She and Fred have kids and grandchildren.

She seems to enjoy interior decorating.

She can cook well.

She most likely has known Sam since he joined the Watch and Nobby since he was a kid. Also, at this point it’s fair to assume she’s met the other important watchmen as well. (Carrot, Angua, Detritus, Cheery, etc.)

Personality-wise, I’d say she’s a nice but a very no nonsense type of person. Patient, but only to a certain point. Very hard worker and tends to get absorbed in her job. She obviously loves her husband, but she can get easily exasperated with him. Her feelings about him are probably best summed up with something like: He’s an idiot, but he’s my idiot.

As far as her work goes, I think she’s either an antique dealer or an interior designer. This is because an interesting little detail I picked up on in Jingo. Fred brings her back souvenirs (which is really sweet tbh) and they’re furniture/decorating stuff. Plus it’s mentioned in the books that’s she often asks Fred’s help decorating their house and moving furniture. So if she’s an interior designer, she might sometimes keep some of the furniture she uses for her clients there, and if she’s and antique dealer she might run her business from their house. After all owning a proper shop is expensive and Ankh-Morpork is low on space.

#the truth has it’s boots on: ooc #jane rambles #discworld #fred colon #nobby nobbs #sam vimes #carrot ironfoundersson #angua von uberwald #headology: headcanons #also she’s probably met Shine of the Rainbow at least once since she saved her husband #probably brought over a pie or something to thank her idk

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betelgeuse-1988 · 3 years ago

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pale blue eyes: obi-wan/reader

hey so i fell in love with ewan mcgregor recently and proceeded to watch all of the prequels and started the clone wars. how dangerous! probably more obi-wan content in the near future. sorry if this isn't canon compliant...i don't know enough about star wars and i'm so sorry!! give me tips if you have any

obi-wan is also probably totally ooc and i’ve definitely disregarded the jedi code (bc screw the code!) but...i don’t care...obi-wan is too beautiful for that lmao. if anyone can handle a little temptation from the darkside and still be a good jedi, it’s obi

tags: smut, fluff, light angst, hurt/comfort, grief/mourning (mention of death), master/padawan dynamic (sorta), possessive sex/behavior, rough sex, marking (hickies), smoking, implied age difference, porn with feelings (and maybe plot), dirty talk

There was something oh so terrifying about being a Padawan. Of course, it was all you had ever known, but realizing that there would be a day when no one would be there to hold your hand as you traversed the daily experiences of being a Jedi was overwhelmingly terrifying. But, what was even more terrifying was the thought alone of losing your Master.

Actually losing her before you’d finished your training could only be described as unquantifiable.

Obi-Wan broke the news to you soon after reporting to the council after the mission on some outer-rim planet went wrong and led to several Jedi being killed. He spared you the details as you broke down in front of him, apologizing immediately for letting your emotions get the best of you. You tried your best to keep everything in, especially in front of one of the best Jedi Masters. Obi-Wan looked down the hallway before slowly walking you back into your quarters. He sat you down on your small bed, taking a seat next to you.

“I know how you feel right now, as I too lost my Master. But, you must remember your Master has returned to the Force. She has become something better and will always be with you. It will be difficult, but as time passes the intensity of your emotions will fade.”

You looked up into his blue eyes, the truth behind them reinforcing what you sensed in the Force. His statements were genuine, facts that had been seen in countless other Jedi who had experienced what you did; but, his eyes (and the Force) held a sadness that seemed as if it was too big and too fragile to even consider touching. Having heard some pieces of what had happened to Master Kenobi and his Padawan, it seemed as if he never had enough time to grieve. He never had time to consider what loss meant and how to deal with it. The words he spoke seemed to be monotonous, as if they were a mantra he thought to himself often. An attempt to rid himself of emotions that council members told him that he would be drawn to the darkside because of them.

“And yet,” you said, pausing to control your breathing, a few tears escaping your eyes now and then. “Those emotions will never go away, huh?”

Obi-Wan broke your gaze, sighing and rubbing a hand over his face. “I’m...I’m sorry, I’m not helping, am I?” He let out a sad chuckle before looking back at you. “It’s just...I know too well how you feel. And yet, I cannot bring myself to tell you that you must rid yourself of these emotions because they will lead you astray. I so wish that one person would have allowed me to feel, just for one moment.”

You take his hand into yours, unable to bring yourself to look him in the eyes. “You’ve helped me more than you know, Master Kenobi. And I only hope that you are able to take your own advice, too.”

“I will try, young one.”

After this moment, you found yourself drawn to Obi-Wan in the late hours of the night. Master Windu took over the last few weeks of your training before your trials. When you were not training or sleeping and Obi-Wan was not training his Padawan, you were together. This often caused you both to spend late nights in one of your quarters (most often his, as they were bigger). At first there was nothing sexual or even romantic about these meetings. They allowed you both to explore your grief and help each other control emotions most Jedi would consider distracting or unwanted. It was nice to feel safe in your emotions.

At least, until your emotions became romantic feelings for Obi-Wan.

This realization hit you like a podracer a few weeks after you became a Jedi. You had been given a mission to protect a queen from an outer-rim planet visiting Naboo for a week. The distance alone is not what caused you to realize these feelings. Obi-Wan and his Padawan had been sent on small missions in the past few weeks, causing you to go days without seeing him. Sure, you missed him, but training for your trials could fill the void he left. But, now, being away and nearly bored out of your mind in your down time was horrible. You felt a constant sense of longing and desire that you could only trace back to Master Kenobi. Your thoughts would drift back to late nights you spent with the sweet man who could comfort you with only a smile. Thoughts of running your hands through his auburn hair as you begged him to keep growing it out, especially with the beard. Watching his eyes flutter closed as you gave him a massage through his undershirt. He lets out little groans and moans, telling you to push harder in certain spots. Holding his large, calloused hand in yours as you cuddle close together on his bed. It wasn’t until the final day of your assignment that these thoughts turned sexual.

You laid in bed, too excited over going back to Coruscant and having a few days off. A half-dreaming vision formed in your mind of Obi-Wan laying in his bed. The image became clearer and you realized that his sleeping pants were pushed down slightly, his hand grasping his cock tightly. A moan slipped past his lips, the words he choked out indecipherable as he thrusted harshly into his fist. You attempt to will away this vision but it’s stuck--almost engraved--in your mind, drifting in and out like a boat rocking back and forth on waves. His thrusts seemed desperate, as if he had been attempting to reach his climax long before you created this vision. He moans again, this time it is clearer and louder than before: your name. It slips past his lips smoothly as he finally tenses slightly, forcing his hips upwards. Cum shot out of his cock as his thrusts stuttered to a stop and his hand took over. Some particularly thick shots hit his lower stomach, covering the hair above his cock. The rest flooded slowly over the tip and down onto his hand. He groaned all through his climax, panting once he had finished completely. Your mind often drifted back to these images as you fell in and out of sleep throughout the night.

Getting back to Coruscant was a welcome return home. After your report to the council, you saw Obi-Wan and Anakin waiting for you outside of the chambers. You found it difficult, at first, to hold Obi-Wan’s gaze as he greeted you.

“Hello, Master Kenobi. What are you doing here?”

“I heard you got back. If you’d like, Anakin and I would like to take you to Dex’s,” he says simply, a wide smile on his face. Anakin gave you a toothy grin, excited to gorge himself on greasy diner food.”How was your mission, young one?”

You smiled widely, slightly forgetting about the waking-dream that had been plaguing your mind. “Sounds like a great idea. I can tell you all about my mission over dinner, then, I suppose?” Obi-Wan nodded in response, a smile (albeit smaller) on his face mirroring yours and Anakin’s.

After dinner at Dex’s, Obi-Wan dismissed Anakin to his chambers (though, Obi would confide in you that he knew for a fact his was talking to his fellow Padawans late into the night, to which you would chastise him for doing the same thing with you) and invited you to his own to meditate. The walk there was quiet, yet comfortable. But, as you reached his quarters, you saw the bed that was ingrained into your visions from the night before. The panic and embarrassment ran through you, piling heavy in your stomach and causing you to stop in your tracks at his doorway. Obi-Wan took off his boots quickly and made his way to the large window at the opposite side of the room.

“You can come all the way in, y’know?” Obi-Wan said once he realized you had not followed, his tone light and playful. He was teasing you, like he always did, always a flirt. And yet, tonight, it made you nervous. You took slow steps towards him after taking your boots off by the door, meeting him at the window he liked to meditate at. “Are you okay? No witty comeback for your favorite Jedi?” He moved to cup your face but you turned away, noticing it was the hand he had so elegantly wrapped around his cock in your vision.

You looked back at him and shook your head, your eyes becoming watery out of embarrassment and fear. You knew you needed to talk to him before this got any worse. “C-can I talk to you about something?” He nodded, his face becoming serious, and sat down on the plush cushions he used to begin meditating. He patted on one next to him and you sat after taking off your cloak. You two sat almost too close, knees touching. You could almost smell him and could almost feel the calming warmth radiating off of him. “I...During my missions I was plagued by visions, Master Kenobi.”

He frowned slightly at what you said, worried about the potential dangers of visions Jedi see. “You do not need to use my title in my quarters, young one,” he said, calmly, so as not to scare you or make you feel he was reprimanding you. “But you can tell me anything. What were in these visions, young one?”

You sighed, attempting to muster the strength in admitting what you saw. Obi-Wan could sense your struggle and reached out to touch your knee gently. You placed your hand over his and squeezed gently, closing your eyes to center yourself. The minute you opened your mouth, the word-vomit flowed fast. “They were of you. They began as nice and comforting. Domestic moments. Like holding your hand or cuddling. I could see myself doing that with any friend. But...last night, it was sexual. I, uhm, watched you...pleasure yourself. Y-you moaned my name. Maker, I feel like I’ve used you, I am so sorry, Master Kenobi.”

“This happened last night?” he asked, blushing slightly under your curious gaze. You nodded slowly, unsure of where he was going with this. “Then I don’t think you were making these visions up, darling.”

Your jaw dropped, with Obi-Wan only smirking back at you. “W-what do you mean?”

“I think you saw me, somehow. I saw some of those visions you described earlier in the week, too. Perhaps we are connected, young one.” He looked at you processing what he just said and smiled. “I like you, a lot. I admire your work as a Jedi and I am so proud to see how much you have grown since I first talked to you that night your master died.” He moved the hand that was resting in his lap to cup your cheek. “I believe I have fallen for you. I am sorry that you had to see me in such an inappropriate state, however. I would understand if you didn’t want to be with me.”

“No! I mean, I do. I want to be with you. I never imagined that you would ever want to be with someone like me.” You smiled brightly, giddy about this change in your relationship with Obi-Wan. “And, if I may say, you looked quite beautiful last night. I am honored that you thought of me just as I have thought of you. Although, you have a much different imagination than I do.” The man in front of you blushed and chuckled brightly, almost proud of what he had done.

The hand on your knee tentatively moved further up your thigh. “Perhaps I can spark your imagination?”

You shifted to be on your knees, placing your hands on his thighs. You leaned close to him, almost brushing your lips against his. You were able to feel the tickle of his beard on your face as you whispered out, “Perhaps I can fulfill yours?” You pressed your lips against his as he shoves his hands through your hair, tugging on it slightly. Even as he moaned, you tasted the strawberry milkshake you shared with him at Dex’s. But, as you kissed him deeper, tongues exploring each other’s mouths, you tasted tabac, causing your mind to wander. You never thought of Obi-Wan indulging in the toxic substance, but you can’t bring yourself to be surprised. Images of Obi-Wan shirtless, just-fucked and sweaty, his hair a mess, flooded your mind. A cigarra hung from his mouth, barely hanging on to it as he took puffs from it.

A nasty habit Obi’s voice rings through your mind, almost embarrassed, I can’t seem to kick it, young one. I hope you aren’t angry.

You pulled away and cupped his face. Not wanting to ruin the tender moment of vulnerability, you kissed him lightly and projected your thoughts to him, I could not be mad at you. I find it shamefully attractive, but if you are ready to quit, I know you can.

He smiled into the kiss as you pulled away to begin stripping. “Allow me to help you,” he said, moving to push your robes off your shoulders as you took off the belt around your waist. You shrugged the robes off of you completely and threw them to the side, followed by your undershirt. Obi-Wan moved to help you take your pants off, but you stopped him.

“Allow me to help you, Master Kenobi?” he blushed and leaned back, copying your actions by starting with his belt. You help to shrug off his outer robes followed by his undershirt. You admire his chest, speckled with freckles. You pushed him down lightly, his back hitting his carpeted floor lightly. “You are truly beautiful, Master.” You kissed his chest lightly, kneeling at his side and helping him to shove his pants and undergarments off. Even though you had seen his member the night before, it was different in person and being able to see it uncovered by his hand. Semi-hard, all you could think was that it would look even more beautiful in the moonlight and neon lights streaming from the window. You flicked your hand, flipping the light switch by the door.

“I was going to ask if you liked what you saw, young one, but it seems I was wrong,” Obi-Wan hummed.

You smirked, taking his cock in your hands. “Oh, I do, but I am one for aesthetics and I would prefer to be fucked under the moonlight.” You jerk him off slightly, getting him hard. As your movements become a tad more difficult, you hold your hand up to the man’s mouth. “Spit, please.” He looked at you with a raised brow but spits. You rubbed it up and down his cock, making your movements much smoother. You squeezed lightly around his cock and he began to thrust lightly under your touch. You moved to lean down and use your mouth on his cock, but Obi-Wan stopped you.

“Let me get you ready so I can fuck you under the moonlight, just like you want, my young one.”

He moved you down to lay on the floor, pushing one of his cushions underneath your head. After helping you out of your remaining clothes, he shoved the other pillow under your hips, angling them upwards. He then kissed down your chest, as if attempting to kiss away the moonlight with how fervently he pressed his lips to your skin. Yet, as you pushed his hair back to get a clear view of his serene face, you thought he may be trying to pin down the moonlight to your skin. The way his gaze locked with yours showed how intensely he cared about this moment. His kisses acted as an attempt to encapsulate you in the light, an attempt to preserve this moment forever. You were not just another nightly escapade (not that either of you had many of those, both unknowingly too caught up in being smitten by the other). Rather, in this moment, Obi-Wan was declaring he was going to make love to you with each and every kiss pressed to your skin. The final kiss he pressed to your skin was your clit. Once this was finished, he began fingering you, stretching you with two fingers immediately and suckling on your clit. You gasped and moaned under his touch, fingers diving into his hair.

I want to make you mine, young one. After we began talking I wished I had fought with the council more to train you instead for the remainder of your time as a Padawan. Perhaps we could have been here sooner.

“Master Kenobi,” you moaned aloud. Not being able to form words verbally, you responded with the Force. How I began to wish the same. I suppose, then, I was always yours?

He pulled off of you, but added a third finger to his thrusts, smiling up at you brightly. “Yes. And I suppose I was always yours, then, too?”

“Yes,” you moaned out, high pitched, almost squeaking. You hummed and tried again, regardless of if Obi heard you the first time, “Yes, Master, you’re mine.” Obi-Wan’s smile somehow grew, but he quickly went back to working on you with his mouth. However, this time, he leaned more on his arm that he’s using to finger you. That way, his other hand was free to jerk himself off. You only noticed when he moaned against your clit lightly. “Master Kenobi, are you--”

Yes, he sent you, almost strained as if he was speaking, I think I could cum just by eating you out, I wouldn’t even need to touch myself.

“I wouldn’t want that,” you said, pushing his head lightly, “so why don’t you fuck me instead?”

He pulled his head up and smiled, “Anything for you, my darling.” He stood up, pulling you to join him, and guided you toward the bed, stopping by his drawers to grab a condom. Laying down on the bed, you watched him roll the condom over his cock and climb onto the bed with you. He kneeled between your legs, pulling up your leg to rest it on his hip. He used his other hand to grip your hip and pulled you towards him. You gasped, both at the sudden movement and his member pushing into your pussy slowly. “Such a good girl, taking me so perfectly. You can take me all, right, my young one?” You nodded your head fiercely, unable to form a coherent thought as he continued to thrust in and out of you, each thrust going deeper than the last.

Once he settled into you completely, your hands fisted his bedsheets roughly. “So full, you fill me up so nice, Master Kenobi.” You shifted your hips against him, attempting to get him to thrust into you. His grip on your hip dissipated as he moved to push down on them. You moved your hand over his, pushing down on it lightly while also gripping his hand.

“Is there something you need from your Master, young Jedi?” Your grip on his hand tightened as you nodded. “What do you need? You can use your words.” You blushed as you attempted to quantify what you wanted him to do. You attempted to shift your hips as the position became uncomfortable from being held for so long without moving. “Please, princess. I want to give you what you want, but I will not move until you tell me.”

“I want you...I…” you trailed off, becoming embarrassed for what you were trying to ask. You threw your head to the side and thought to him, I want you to mark me. I don’t care if it hurts. I want to know, as long as the bruises last, that I am yours. I want to hold on to this moment.

“Is that all, young one?” You nodded in response, trying not to embarrass yourself more than you felt you had. “There is nothing to be embarrassed over, sweet girl. I want to please you, and the only way I can do that is if I know what you want. Never be embarrassed when asking for what you want.”

You smiled as his hand moved back to your hip, his grip stronger than before. Timidly, you add on, “Can you also move, Obi-Wan? I...I need it.” He silently responded by squeezing your hip and thrusting into you. He quickly picked up speed, however, thrusting into you desperately. Obi-Wan shifts, dropping the leg he held at his hip to be able to lean over you. Moaning at the new angle, you wrapped your arms around his neck, keeping him close. Your fingers delved into his hair, tugging at it as he thrust into you just right. Obi-Wan moaned at that, flicking his hips faster in response.

“Where do you want me to mark you, hm? Maybe a place above your robes so all the other Jedi Masters will see and know you’re mine?” You tensed slightly under him, even as your pussy clenched. “No, darling? I didn’t mean to worry you. I will make sure no one can see.” Obi-Was pressed light kisses to your collarbone, as he had before, but quickly began to suck on your collarbone and lined it with love bites.

Too overwhelmed with the pleasure, you think to Obi-Wan, Perhaps another time, you can make them more visible. Let everyone know I am yours and yours alone.

He only hummed in response as he busied himself with bruising your skin. You shoved a hand between the two of you, rubbing your clit in small circles.

Am I not good enough for you, young one?

You stopped your movements and began to stammer out an excuse.

I am only teasing, darling. I want you to cum on my cock. And, you’re making it much easier for me to achieve that goal.

You both continued like this, attempting to reach your climaxes by pulling on Obi’s hair, him suckling on your skin to leave marks, and you circling your clit. Eventually, your legs tensed and you lifted your hips up towards him. You gasped, the inner walls of your pussy fluttering around his cock. “Obi-Wan, I’m cumming,” you exclaimed, moaning even more as you flung your head back against the pillows.

“Let go, love. Cum for me, show me you’re mine.”

Your hips stuttered against his, legs tensing and shaking on either side of the Jedi Master. He pulled up and off of you, shifting back onto his knees. He thrust through your orgasm, attempting to reach his own. He moved his hands again to grip your hips tightly, bringing you against him roughly. Obi-Wan moaned as he thrust into you as fast as he could, wanting to cum so badly. “Cum for me, Master. I can sense how desperate you are, n’ I wanna know I made you cum. You came inside your young Jedi’s cunt, all for her. Only for her.” His hips began to stutter irregularly against you as he came, moaning your name just as he did the night before. Obi-Wan eventually stalled against you, collapsing slightly. “After that show, you can put your full weight on me. You deserve it, and I don’t want you to pull out just yet,” You said, rubbing his head gently..

“I always had a feeling you’d be insatiable,” Obi-Wan chuckled. He leaned his full weight on top of you. It was surprisingly comforting, especially after his rough grip and bruising kisses. He snuggled into your neck, pressing sloppy kisses against it, as your hands settled at his waist. “I can only hope to completely satiate you, one day, I suppose.”

“You did perfectly fine, Obi-Wan. For now.” He finally pulled off of you, forcing you to come to his refresher with him to clean up. When you finally laid back down in his bed, both of you naked and comfortable in each other’s arms, you were too tired to do anything more than hum in content. Just as you were trailing off to sleep, a warm thought entered your brain.

I love you, young one. Never forget that.

You responded quickly, though you assumed the sleepiness that would have been present in your voice was also present in your thoughts.

I love you, too, Obi.

#obi wan imagine #obi wan x you #obi wan kenobi x you #obi wan x reader #obi wan kenobi x reader #fanfic #obi-wan smut #obi-wan kenobi x reader #obi-wan x reader #obi wan fanfiction #obi wan fic

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theloneliestshipper · 3 years ago

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Book of Boba, Episode 1 Review

Below is my review of The Book of Boba Fett, Episode 1: Stranger in a Strange Land. IT CONTAINS SPOILERS.

It’s hard to believe that it’s been a whole year since Boba Fett made his triumphant live-action return in The Mandalorian, mostly because you know, time has no meaning anymore.

I wrote in February about how meaningful Boba’s return was to me personally after surviving 2020 and now as I’m writing this I’m waiting for an email from my employer confirming that all meetings will be returning to the virtual due to the rise in COVID cases and my kids’ school district has just announced that it will be resuming virtual learning after the winter break.

The predominant theme of 2021 seems to be taking two weary steps forward and one hurried step back. We’ve been “staying safe” and “hoping this email finds you well” for so long that life before 2020 sometimes feels like a strange dream.

So to have The Book of Boba Fett open on Boba laying in the bacta pod, dreaming fitfully about the past almost feels almost too on the nose. We're all trying to adjust to a new reality while still dealing with the trauma of the past. We might look okay in our masks, but the truth is we’re a long way from recovered.

The first episode was split into two timelines. The first is in the Post-Mando-s2 present where Boba is trying his hand at making crime pay with “Master Assassin Fennec Shand” (which is how he introduces her and how I will be referring to her from now on). The second is Boba’s escape from the sarlacc, after which he is promptly stripped by Jawas and then saved/captured by Tusken Raiders.

I imagine these duel timelines will continue in the episodes that follow, with the first timeline focusing on the conflict with the Mayor of Mos Espa and the inevitable betrayal of Madam Garsa while the second timeline tries to answer the questions that have been burning a hole in the minds of Fett fans since Legends canon got the boot.

Things I Loved

The scene inside the sarlacc was genuinely horrifying and looked amazing. Fanservice fantastically well done.

I might have a new interior obsession with Jabba’s palace. More. MORRRRE.

The AOTC flashbacks of Kamino and Geonosis. My heart.

Master Assassin Fennec Shand’s advice to stick to what people expect and Boba’s nonchalant “nah I’ll do it my way” is a very interesting dynamic between the two of them. I look forward to seeing where it goes.

Was not expecting Boba to be tied up or in chains for half the episode. In the concept art he’s half-naked AND in chains and for everyone’s safety I’m preemptively putting myself in horny jail.

On a related note, The Concept Art. Holy moly. I want ALL of it framed and hanging on my wall.

Things I Didn’t Love

The portrayal of the Tuskens. Fans were quick to note that The Mandalorian took a huge step forward in treating the Tuskens like a culture and not a stereotype of savages. It’s not clear what purpose Tusken captives serve (are they hostages? Melon harvesting slaves?) and watching the kids beat up on Boba gave me bad Western vibes. If Boba ends up sleeping with the Tusken priestess we’ll have a real Dances with Wolves situation on our hands.

The sarlacc escape was a bit of a let down. After that amazingly claustrophobic shot of Boba struggling in the sarlacc’s guts he zombie-arms his way out of the sand and that’s it. I actually laughed. Patton Oswalt made it sound way cooler.

There were a few OOC moments that seemed to be mainly for story convenience. Boba handing over his helmet to strangers, for example, or he and Fennec both conveniently forgetting their guns on their little stroll. I'm a real wet blanket when it comes to characterization! Sorry!

Why no ROTJ flashbacks in the dream sequence? Not enough time to tie the title character into multiple movies but plenty of time for sand and bantha butts?

Monster of the Week:

To save a Tusken youngling, Boba pulls a Leia and strangles the super-swole version of Randall Boggs from Monsters Inc. with a chain. 100% behind the decision to have Boba bond with a surly child who is also his jailor.

Final Thoughts

Bringing a background character into the forefront is no small task. The Mandalorian gave him a role where his main job was to stand around in the background and look cool, which is arguably his wheelhouse. It’s a much different thing to see a character struggle through a narrative arc, but rest assured that even when I nitpick I’m enjoying the ride. Much like the year 2022, it’s going to be an interesting journey and I hope to see good things come from it.

#tbobf spoilers #book of boba fett spoilers #episode review #overall this is Good Food and I'm happy #boba fett

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imaginingmanyfandoms · 4 years ago

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summary: a chance encounter puts Fiona Tanner in the sights of the Cullen family. Emmett takes an immediate liking to her, but Edward thinks she's a threat to the family. No Emmett x Rosalie. warnings: kidnapping, ooc behaviour? words: 4kish

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 1

From the moment her boots hit the cement on the busy Seattle sidewalk, the search was on. Holding tightly to the handle of her suitcase she tried to get her bearings. Fiona Tanner’s sister had been missing for months. The cops had nothing, and they weren’t taking any of Fiona’s advice.

“Let us do our jobs, ma’am. We’ll find your sister…” had not so slowly turned into “we can’t find someone that doesn’t want to be found.” Insinuating that her sister had run away with some boy, over the fact that the cops simply hadn’t done a good enough job. Bree was a troubled kid, who left home in a hurry before she’d turned fifteen. But she always stayed in contact with Fiona. Little messages from burner phones to let her sister know that she was okay.

A person could only drag their sister back just to watch her run away again so many times before they needed an alternative solution.

Like she was going to just sit around and hope that they were right. She was an extra set of eyes and ears. There was nothing that could stand between her, and finding her sister. At the very least she was going to get the truth.

Besides, she knew for a fact that her sister was dead.

The bus dropped Fiona off in front of an old diner. It looked out of place next to two modern buildings, but the charm of it drew her in. The ladies inside were friendly, offering her a table and some coffee. She ordered a burger with fries and a root beer. While the waitress withdrew to the kitchen, Fiona pulled out a map of the city that she had started using as her guide to remember everything. The map and a small notebook she’d bought at the dollar store.

The map had a small blue X over a bookstore just a few blocks over, which was her first stop after getting some lunch. Now seemed like the best time to take stock of everything she knew so far.

Bree’s friends had no idea where she was. But they weren’t the brightest bunch, and not really the trustworthy type either.

Another boy from the area had gone missing recently as well. Riley Biers, last seen in May, 2010. He went missing near Pike Place Market.

Bree wouldn’t ever just run away with someone without telling her. She was in trouble.

And that was it. That was all Fiona knew.

But the family couldn’t just move on. Bree had looked exactly like Fiona did at her age. It became a curse when her own parents would struggle to look into her eyes, preferring to stare into their glass whenever she entered the room. It was like that a year ago, but when she had to tell her parents that she’d been talking to Bree, and hadn’t told them…

Being away from them wasn’t the worst thing right now.

It wasn’t something she wanted to think about at that moment. Her concentration needed to be on her investigation.

“Here ya go,” the waitress said, setting down the plate of food. Fiona smiled, and slid her map out of the way. She was starving.

She picked up a fry and brought it to her mouth, but suddenly felt… wrong. There was a weird feeling in her mind. Like someone was watching. No, not watching. Listening.

Then clear as day she heard it. This tiny little nagging voice that had started harassing her a few weeks ago. It sounded just like her sister, except this voice was deeper, raspy like she was dying of thirst.

Run, Fiona.

She put the fry back and grabbed a twenty from her wallet, strolling up to the counter to pay and get a to go container. Fiona kept her cool, but kept her defences up.

Don’t think about me.

Fiona looked around the diner. There were two teens taking pictures of their milkshakes and giggling. Then there was a couple. A girl and an Abercrombie model. Only one plate of food between them.

As if on cue, the boy picked up one of her fries and put it in his mouth. But Fiona didn’t miss the confused look on the girls’ face when he did it. He whispered something under his breath that made the girl look down, her hair making a waterfall to block out her face. But it didn’t matter, Fiona had his face painted in her memories.

I said, run!

The voice was annoying. But the scary thing to Fiona, was that she could hear dead people. Kind of like a medium, but she suppressed it. Pushed it down, down, down until it was suffocated. Bree, however, always knew how to get under Fiona’s skin.

Please, Fiona thought, just tell me what happened.

I told you, it’s not safe. Go home!

“Lady?” said the waitress, holding out the change to her. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Fiona said, putting her phoney smile back on. “Sorry, keep the change.” She took her to go box to the table and threw the fries in it, and everything else she owned back in her bag. She flipped it over one shoulder gracefully and grabbed her burger, taking a big bite of it. She looked back at the couple, but caught his narrowed eyes staring at her.

He was the one listening. She tried to immediately cover her thoughts by thinking the alphabet as loud as possible, but she could read from the look on his face that it was too late.

You’re going to get hurt. Bree had been fighting Fiona every step of the way. Putting fake clues in her mind, trying to push out clues that were helpful…

It was annoying.

C’mon Bree, Fiona thought. Gimme a clue.

How about a hint?

Yes, Bree! Please give me a hint.

Okay, go home. That’s your hint. Goodnight.

Goodnight, yourself. It’s not even dark out.

FIONA TANNER SEATTLE, DAY 2

Wake up!! Bree was shouting. It was frantic, unlike anything Fiona had ever heard before. Please, Fiona, please, wake up!! Someone is in the bathroom!

In a second, all of the grogginess was wiped away. Fiona sat up quickly, pulling the blankets to her chest. She had triple, quadruple checked that the door was locked before bed. And she could see that it was still locked now. How could someone have…

I think… they’re leaving.

How?? Fiona was starting to shake. There’s no window in there.

Then something in the air shifted. And the only reason she knew something was different was the tiny breeze she felt on her face, and the fact that the door wasn’t locked anymore.

Who was in here, Bree?

I’m not telling.

But you know?

No.

Liar.

Fiona rubbed her temples. Bree’s yelling had given her a headache. To make things worse, Bree was loudly singing, “go hoooooome” over and over. Fiona got up, changed out of her pyjamas into jeans and a white tee. And pulled her boots on. She has at the edge of the bed for a minute, her head in her hands as she took some deep breaths.

Fiona looked out the window, and noticed something bizarre. There was a girl, standing stiff as a board. And Bree went radio silent.

Know that girl?

When Bree didn’t answer, Fiona dropped down, hiding herself out of view. Holy shit! Do you actually know that girl?

Fiona was getting tired of this. If Bree wasn’t going to talk, someone else was going to. With reckless abandon, she threw open the door and stomped across the parking lot, not really caring that this girl was starring at her.

“Do you know Bree Tanner?” Fiona asked loudly, before she was even close to the girl.

Shut up! Shut up! You have no idea what you’re starting!

“Excuse me?” said the girl. She was impossibly beautiful. The kind of beautiful that wasn’t even fair for the rest of the world.

“My sister is Bree Tanner, and I think she knows you.”

“And how could you know that?”

“She told me.”

“I doubt that.”

“Why? Because she’s dead?”

The girl shut up after that. Fiona was getting sick and tired of no one answering her questions. She knew she was playing with fire, but she didn’t care. If this girl was some drug dealer who got Bree killed, she was going to find out. And she wanted to find out today, right now.

“I don’t care what shit you’re in with the police, I just want to know what happened to her.”

Shut. Up! Or you’ll be dead like me.

The girl didn’t speak again. “Do you know the boy who listens?”

The next five seconds went faster than she could have possibly believed. She was suddenly in complete darkness. With all her belongings beside her. In a small, tight space. Where was she? What happened.

You’re in a TRUNK, dumbass, you just got kidnapped.

Well that, was bad news for Fiona. She wanted to scream but her mouth was covered. She wanted to fight but her hands were tied. How did that happen? How did she miss her own kidnapping?

The boy who could listen was here. Probably in the car. She could feel him in there.

“How could she know this much?” The beautiful girl asked. Fiona had no idea why, but she could hear them in her head. In her mind.

“Be quiet,” he said sharply.

Silence.

“She can hear us,” he said. “I can’t… I can’t look in her mind, I’m just hearing my words echoed back, louder than her thoughts. I think she’s burying them.”

Instead of burying them, she turned it around. Played it loud like shouting into a megaphone. Did you do this to Bree, too? And then she projected Bree’s image. She closed her eyes and tried to push every detail of her sister’s face into his mind. But, he edited it. Saw it the way he saw it, with bright red eyes. She felt the car swerve violently and she cracked her arm as she rolled onto it. It hurt so badly. She hoped it wasn’t broken but the way her fingers stopped responding to her made her worried.

“Knock it off!” he shouted.

“What?” His passenger asked. Don’t be rude, she thought.

Not you, Rosalie. Did the listening boy think that?

It was getting too confusing for her to keep all these voices straight. Rosalie was sitting with the boy who listens. She didn’t know his name. It made no sense, how could she hear them? She could only ever hear the dead, but this wasn’t the same. Bree sounded like she was in the middle of Fiona’s brain, but the other two… they sounded like Fiona was listening to them from a couple feet away. They were on the outside, and Bree was on the inside.

Please, Bree begged, I don’t know how to help you now.

It didn’t matter. Fiona passed out.

EMMETT CULLEN FORKS, DAY 1

Emmett hated when the family went into crisis mode. Jasper didn’t want to play chess because he was too busy fretting over Alice. Edward was having four panic attacks a day thinking that these “loose ends” were going to get Bella killed. And Carlisle and Esme were making Plan B arrangements in case they had to move, which is what everyone kept saying. No one was brave enough to say in case we have to kill her.

He heard Edward and Rosalie driving over the speed limit. Faster than ever, maybe. And he was excited to at least see some kind of action around here. Ever since he got to the house everyone has treated him like he’s stupid. Which he was not.

“Jasper!” Emmett called, beaming up the stairs. “They’re coming!”

“Yes, thank you Emmett. I hear them too.” Jasper spoke normally. Knowing Emmett could hear him through the walls.

Edward skidded his car to a quick stop in front of the house. Emmett happily joined Carlisle and Esme on the front lawn. They had all agreed to greet their guest and try to explain things as civilly as possible. Edward and Rosalie were supposed to go get her, invite her on a tour around town and then invite her for a dinner. Emmett was excited to make a friend, and also excited to watch his family force down a pizza. They all got so miserable after eating human food.

“Oh dear,” Esme said.

Emmett didn’t understand what the big deal was. Edward was out of the car, talking to Bella on the phone. The wedding was still a ways away, this was only supposed to be a minor inconvenience. Rosalie had run off into the woods before even greeting anyone. She hadn’t been coping well lately and hadn’t spent much time talking to anyone. Not that she was very friendly on a regular basis.

Only then did Emmett notice that the car door was open, but he could tell the heartbeat he heard and the blood he smelled was behind a wall of metal. She wasn’t in the backseat. They put her in the trunk?

Seemed a little rude.

The girl was bleeding back there too. Probably why Rosalie had to run. He couldn’t blame her, this girl smelled so good. She smelled like joy would taste.

“Pop the trunk!” Emmett said, laughing at Edward’s constipated expression.

“Emmett,” Carlisle whispered. His dad didn’t want to make a joke out of this. “Edward, please.”

Edward didn’t get off his phone call but clicked open the trunk with his keys. Emmett and Carlisle ran over to examine the damage.

As soon as Emmett saw her, he was smitten. Absolutely smitten. She was so pretty. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Short black hair, round little face with the pinkest lips in the world. And they looked like they would be so fun to kiss. Emmett was aware his brother wasn’t answering Bella, and instead was staring at Emmett, but he didn’t care though. He could see the relation to Bree in her features, but she was definitely older.

“Her arm is broken,” he said. “I’ll bring her to my office and set it, and cast it.”

Esme coughed for a moment, briefly distracted by the pooling of blood in the trunk of Edward’s Volvo. “Need anything from your office, dear?”

Emmett could see the appreciation on Carlisle’s face. Emmett wanted love like these two had. Or like Alice and Jasper. Or Edward and Bella. Or Rosalie and her reflection. Carlisle gave her a short list of things he would need to cast her arm, he was only missing a few things that he had used before they came back to town.

Carlisle reached to pick her up, but Emmett swatted his hands away quickly. Not harshly, as it wasn’t meant to hurt Carlisle. But Emmett had to do it himself. He had to be the one to carry this girl. It didn’t matter what Edward wanted. No one was going to hurt her. Edward doesn’t get to always have everything his way.

“What’s her name again?” Emmett asked, his voice more gentle than they’s ever heard it as he gingerly picked her up.

“Fiona.” Carlisle watched Emmett’s every move.

“Fiona,” Emmett repeated quietly.

He didn’t want her to wake up, so he walked slowly through the house. Setting her down on the space Carlisle made on the desk. The blood didn’t bother Emmett for even a moment. He never even hesitated. He just brushed the hair off her face, and waited while Carlisle worked.

“You seem to have taken to this girl.”

“I just think she’s pretty,” Emmett said. “It’s not her fault about her sister. If one of us went missing, would you not stop at nothing to get us back?”

“You’re right about that.” Carlisle looked pained. “May I ask you something, Emmett?”

“Yeah, of course.” Emmett didn’t look up from the girl’s face, and instead dragged his fingers softly around the edge of her face. Maybe she would be his Bella.

Was it creepy to be thinking this before she had a chance to wake up and meet him? He can’t just claim her, only hope that she was as fascinated by him.

Edward came through the door before Carlisle could ask about what Emmett was thinking. Edward was clearly mad. Esme slipped in, giving Carlisle the things he asked for, but opted to slip out and remove herself from the blood. Emmett understood, Fiona smelled as tempting as a fresh apple pie.

“Why is she untied?” he asked, grabbed the abandoned tie off the ground. It was all he’d had to tie her up with at the time.

“Do you think she needs to be?” Carlisle asks.

“Yes, I do.” Edward crossed his arms. Emmett was getting irritated by the vibe in the room. It was bad vibes in here.

“No, Edward.” Carlisle kept working. “We don’t hold hostages.”

“You’re right, we should just kill her now,” he said, cooly. As if it wasn’t a person they were talking about. Carlisle paused, but continued.

Emmett stood up tall, puffing his chest out and blocking Edward’s view of Fiona.

“You’re not touching her,” he said.

“Are you going to stop me, Emmett?” Edward asked. “You don’t even know her.”

“I know that I’m not a danger to her,” he said. “And you are. So get out while Carlisle works.”

“You’ve lost your…” Edward trailed off, and dropped to his knees clutching his head. Emmett stooped down on one knee, immediately changing from being worried about this girl to worried about his brother. “It’s her.”

Fiona was stirring awake, Carlisle finishing and clearing himself just in time for her to start squirming.

“Oh my god, her thoughts - there’s so many…” Edward tried to clear a path, try to sort between her thoughts and the thoughts of others’ that lived in her mind. “They’re not hers.”

“STOP!” she shouted, sitting perfectly up. “My sister doesn’t know the truth, she’s no danger to the secret.”

“Fiona?” Carlisle asked. Everyone was totally stunned. The girl looked lifeless behind her eyes, like this wasn’t her but a cheap replication of her. Other than sitting up, her limbs were still and lifeless, no sign of pain or distress.

“Bree.”

“Bree?” Esme said, slipping in the door. “Bree is it really you?” Esme fluttered over, putting her hands on the girls’ face. She was close to tears. “I’m so sorry.” Esme had been feeling guilty over Bree everyday since it had happened.

“Esme,” Carlisle said softly. He didn’t want to silence his wife, but he didn’t know how much time they had to talk to her.

“She doesn’t know what really happened. You still have time to lie. Don’t kill her.”

“Don’t worry little buddy,” Emmett said. “No one is going to hurt Fiona.”

“Remains to be seen,” Edward muttered.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Sounds like family meeting time,” Esme said. “I’ll go find the others.” She slipped outside the office.

“I don’t understand,” Fiona said, her eyes focused. Her voice settled. It was her now. There was life in her eyes, but also fear, and she touched the cast on her arm. Even her voice was beautiful. Is this how the dogs feel? Emmett had never felt stronger than right now. Emmett didn’t move towards her for fear of startling her, she was so small.

“She can’t stay up here alone,” Edward said.

“I trust Carlisle to speak for me,” Emmett said, looking at Fiona. She was frightened, but brave. Trying to establish her surroundings. “I’m not going to let you hurt her no matter what you say anyway.”

“You’re risking everything,” Edward said. “For someone you don’t even know.”

“Sound familiar?” Emmett asked, scoffing. “I always had your back, even when I didn’t get it.”

Edward flashed a look of guilt but shook it off. Emmett knew they couldn’t keep taking risks like this, but she wasn’t a risk, she was a person. As fast as he’s ever run, Emmett grabbed her things from the car, and dropped them right at her feet. She was shaking, clearly terrified.

“How did you do that?”

“Your phone is in there, I checked.” Emmett heard his family go silent. The conversation was a waste of time anyway, it was just Carlisle trying to convince Edward that there were more options than murder. “I won’t stop you from calling 911. We are the Cullens, you’re in Forks. I’ll even give you the number for Chief-”

“Emmett!” Rosalie yelled. But Emmett got to the door first. Holding it shut from Rosalie’s destructive fists. It cracked and splintered under her heavy hits. “If we have to start over you are so dead.”

FIONA TANNER FORKS, DAY 1

Fiona was crying now. Confused by all the thoughts in her head. She could hear the whole family. Pieces of the conversation downstairs. She could hear the listener getting mad. He didn’t like his own thoughts being repeated back to him but she couldn’t help that. There was also the typical voices that she usually had buried, but coming out of whatever happened to her allowed them to flood in. People screaming in pain, or begging for help, or just taunting her for the fun of it. What did the boy who listens make of her?

“I’m not calling the police,” she whispered. “I just want to know what happened to Bree.”

Rosalie stopped busting the door at Carlisle’s request. But each of her exaggerated stomps could be heard as she left the house. She turned on music in the garage and started fussing with her cars. Emmett just looked at her, welcoming her to make the first move.

“You’re Emmett?”

“Yes.” For his huge stature, he seemed so kind and timid to her. She could hear him thinking about her. And it was so, so flattering.

“Are you dead?”

“Yes.”

“Then how are you alive?”

“I don’t know if I should answer that right now,” he said. “Let’s skip for now.”

“Was Bree dead?”

“I thought you already knew she was dead.” Emmett looked down. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“I meant… uhm… when you met her, for the first time, was she already dead?”

“Yes.”

“Explains why I can hear you twice.” She needed a minute to process all of this. How was she supposed to process all of this?

“Can you hear me think?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” he said, lowering his head. “That’s kind of embarrassing.”

Fiona smiled, and chuckled. Which made Emmett smile and chuckle. It was quiet in the room for a minute. Fiona tried to sort out her thoughts and Emmett watched her.

“I really don’t want to cause any trouble for your family,” she said. “Can you just tell me what happened to my sister?”

“No one here hurt her,” Emmett said. “We were trying to save her but there are some people who just… get their way.”

“Why did they want to hurt her?”

“Can I skip?” he asked.

She nodded lightly. His vague answers were disappointing but he seemed genuine, and it was probably a “the less you know the better” kind of deal around here. Maybe she should’ve listened to Bree.

You think? Bree thought. She sounded weak after taking control of of Fiona.

“Am I going to die, Emmett?” she asked, her voice wavering.

“No, I’ve got you now. You’ll be safe with me.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”

#twilight #imagine #imagines #emmett cullen #emmett cullen imagines #emmett cullen imagine #twilight imagine #twilight imagines #twilight fic #emmett cullen fic

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vanserraseris · 3 years ago

Note

END OF PART X - Eris is super ooc in this part, idk what happened. Just a warning that there are mentions of abuse. Thanks for reading!

honestly idt hes that ooc! you’re j really good at writing him :)

Prince of Ashes. Part X.

masterlist.

“I don’t like it when you look at me like that.”

Micah’s frown deepened, “Like what?”

“Like you pity me,” Eris snapped.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, the laces of his shirt undone, boots off. Micah sat beside him, had followed him when Eris had stormed away into his room. He was all too conscious of the bruises on his neck, and even if they would be gone by morning, they were still there now.

“I have never pitied you,” Micah said, “I have only ever worried for you.” His pale, scar-flecked fingers moved the fabric of Eris’s shirt, traced the bruised skin by the hollow of Eris’s throat. Micah was perhaps the only person Eris let touch him like that - carelessly.

“Don’t bother,” Eris waved a hand, “You have enough to worry about.” Eris tilted his head to the side, baring his throat to Micah in a show of trust. “And they look worse than they feel.”

“They look painful,” Micah mumbled, turning his hand so that his knuckles gently grazed the bruises.

“They are painful,” Eris answered honestly, “Just not as painful as they look.”

Micah moved, leaned back, taking his hand away so that it rested on the sheets between them, their fingers nearly touching. “What happened?” Emerald green eyes holding Eris’s gaze, almost a challenge for Eris to tell him nothing.

When Lagos and Widge had been there earlier that evening, Eris had neglected to mention that he’d nearly been strangled by his father - it was nothing new and Eris didn’t like it when they fussed over him. Micah had stayed behind when the others had left, he’d always seemed to know when something was wrong. And Eris had never seemed capable of keeping the truth from Micah if he asked for it.

Eris ran a hand through his hair, sighing before he started. “I feel like he’s gotten worse.” Eris saw the anger briefly flash in Micah’s eyes before he nodded for Eris to go on. “More punishments, harsher punishments,” Eris shook his head, he hated admitting any sort of weakness to anyone, but Micah had always been an exception. “You should see the way he treats my mother lately.”

“I’m guessing that’s why you have those bruises.”

Micah lifted his chin, the gold of his tattoos catching Eris’s attention. Eris remembered how he would trace those elegant lines, fingers feather-light, how he hadn’t done so in over two centuries. If Beron had ever learned of what Eris had done with Micah during his time at the war camp, his father might have killed them both. Eris was glad that they could still be friends despite it, despite Eris ending it between them in no uncertain terms. He didn’t know what he’d do without Micah.

Eris nodded, eyes still on Micah’s tattoos. If he stared at the beautiful golden leaves, looked at something so familiar, maybe he wouldn’t fall apart. “He threw a chair at her in the middle of dinner, didn’t hit her, but even Cato got involved.” Eris hadn’t heard what his mother had said to the High Lord, had only heard his father shout at her to be quiet before he’d gotten violent. “Protecting our mother seems to be the only thing we can agree on.”

Micah’s brows furrowed, “Can you think of any reason for the sudden change in your father’s behaviour?” Micah had told Eris once that when he was facing a problem, he tried looking for its root. Eris had taken that advice to heart and always attempted to do the same. Eris had spent quite a bit of time lately thinking about why his father might be acting differently.

“I think he knows,” Eris admitted, “About Lucien, about Helion, maybe, I’m unsure.” Lucien had looked enough like their mother that no one ever questioned he wasn’t Beron’s. “He doesn’t look like the rest of us, not really, not anymore, and Beron isn’t an idiot.” Eris knew he was rambling, but Micah’s expression told him that he didn’t mind, that he was still listening. “He looked more like us when he was younger, but he’s changed so much, my mother is afraid, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Eris—”

“This was ridiculous,” Eris continued, “Thinking Beron wouldn’t be able to see Lucien was different, his magic is so fucking weak compared to ours, he’s practically looking for an excuse to get rid of him, Micah, it was only a matter of time before he was certain.” He fisted his hands in the sheets, “He knows, he has to.” Eris felt like the walls of his bedroom were closing in around him. “I told my mother I’d protect him, I can’t even protect her, and that oath keeps me up at night.”

“Eris, you’re going to set your sheets on fire.”

Eris took a deep breath, unclenching his fists, controlling his flames. “Move back,” Eris snarled.

Micah sounded so certain, so confident, as he spoke. “You’re not going to burn me.”

Eris didn’t want to take the chance, so he just repeated himself, voice low as he enunciated each word. “Move back.”

Eris was glad when Micah shifted away from him. “Beron isn’t going to hurt Lucien, not now. Killing your mother, killing Lucien, is practically an admission that he can’t control the members of his household,” Eris could see the logic in Micah’s argument. “If he can’t control his wife, how can he be expected to control an entire court?”

“That makes sense,” Eris took another deep breath, closing his eyes.

Beron wanted to control everything, Eris wasn’t very fond of events that were out of his control either - just one of the many things that made Eris think that perhaps he and his father were more alike than he wanted to admit. “That makes a whole lot of sense.”

“Of course it does,” Micah assured him. “And you can’t keep putting all this pressure on yourself to make sure nothing bad will happen, you’re not a seer and you can’t control your father’s actions no matter how much you would like to.”

“I would like for him to be dead.” Eris wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t just challenge his father to a duel. Of course, the last time Eris had fought his father, he’d almost been killed by him.

“You and nearly all of Autumn,” Micah said, “That doesn’t mean you should do anything stupid.”

Eris lazily opened one eye to look at him, “I’m convinced you can read minds.”

Micah huffed a laugh, “I wish, would make my life a whole lot easier.”

Eris opened his other eye, feeling quite a lot better than before. He was about to thank Micah for listening, for helping, when Micah ran a hand through his shoulder-length hair. “I should get going and you should get some sleep, the Mother knows you don’t get enough.” Eris watched Micah carefully as he went to stand, as the muscles of his broad shoulders moved beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, as he turned away.

Eris didn’t know why he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper as he asked, “Micah?” Eris didn’t like how he sounded - uncertain - but Micah had already paused, waiting for Eris to continue. “You don’t have to go.” The look of surprise on his face, brows raised and jaw slack, had Eris speaking again, “You can go, if you’d like to, though, I just thought maybe it was late.” He felt his ears heat and cursed himself, this was one of his best friends.

Micah’s surprise disappeared as he flashed Eris a smile, kicking off his boots. “Are you asking me to stay the night?”

Eris rolled his eyes, “Wouldn’t be the first time.” Micah had always let Eris make the first move, had never pushed him into doing anything he hadn’t been ready for. Micah seemed more than happy to get comfortable in Eris’s bed, placing a gentle hand on Eris’s shoulder, pulling him over so that they were lying down next to each other - facing each other.

Micah moved the sheets over himself as he laid down on his side, muttering, “Who needs this many pillows?”

“I do,” Eris mumbled, lying down on his stomach, face turned so that he could look at the other male in his bed. Micah had always thought Eris had more pillows than he needed. “Doesn’t this bring back memories?” Eris didn’t even have to lift a finger for all the lights in the room to go off.

Micah snorted, “Memories of you being an insufferable prick. Cauldron, I had thought you were so arrogant.” Eris being shoved into the general’s tent on his first day at the war camp had bothered them both, had led to their first fight. Micah had clawed his way into that position, Eris was handed the title of commander on a shining silver platter. It was mostly Eris’s fault that they hadn’t gotten along, had argued about nearly everything.

“Yes, but at least I was nice to look at.” Eris closed his eyes just as they’d finally adjusted to the dark. Micah hummed his response, taking a deep breath. Eris was pretty sure he’d closed his eyes now as well. He listened to every one of Micah’s breaths, took comfort in his familiar scent. Eris was feeling remarkably pathetic for asking him to stay, for letting him know that he didn’t want to be alone.

Once Micah and Eris had gotten past their initial hostility towards each other, Micah had only ever been kind and patient and gentle - it had taken some time for Eris to get used to that sort of thing. It was very easy for Eris to forget that Micah was one of the best generals in all of Prythian. Eris often found himself wondering if it was easy for Micah to forget that he was not only the heir to the Autumn Court, but that he was a male with one of the worst reputations in all of Prythian.

“Something else is bothering you,” Micah murmured, “You don’t have to tell me what it is, just know you haven’t fooled me into thinking that you’re alright.”

Eris debated whether or not he should tell him what was on his mind. He felt as though he’d told Micah enough for one night, but he was relatively selfish and sometimes he needed confirmation that he wasn’t absolutely dreadful to be around. “Am I difficult?” Eris mumbled, opening his eyes.

It took Micah a moment to respond. “Yes, I suppose you are.” Micah flashed Eris one of his warm smiles, green eyes bright with amusement, so at odds with the words coming from his mouth, “You’re probably one of the most difficult people I’ve ever met.”

“That’s good to know,” Eris frowned, if Micah couldn’t see him in the dark of the room, he could definitely sense that Eris wasn’t too pleased with that response.

“I've never lied to you, Eris, I’m not going to start now.” Micah lifted his hand, moving a strand of blood-red hair that had fallen over Eris’s face. For a moment, Eris had thought Micah was going to rest his large hand against Eris’s cheek.

“I didn’t know you disliked me.” Eris hated to admit that he was hurt by it, hated to admit that he’d given much thought as to why his friends remained by his side. He often wondered if he wasn’t their prince, whether they’d still care about him.

“I didn’t say that,” Micah raised one of his eyebrows, “You’re always jumping to conclusions.”

“I’m not,” Eris defended.

“You always think you’re right.”

“That’s because I usually am.” Eris was regretting having asked Micah to stay.

“You’re still rather arrogant and rude and not very nice.”

Eris was glad Micah couldn’t see the flush he was sure was on his cheeks. “Micah—”

“Getting you to admit something is troubling you is like pulling teeth.”

“Why are we friends, then?” Eris scowled.

“You’re my best friend.”

“I’m confused,” Eris muttered.

“You’re also caring and reliable and you experience brief bouts of kindness. It used to surprise me, you know, how kind you could be.” When Eris didn’t respond, Micah continued, “Just know there’s a distinction between nice and kind, I don’t think you’ll ever be very nice.” Eris hadn’t been expecting Micah to say something like that. “Yes, I think you’re difficult, I also think you’re worth it.” Micah placed his hand, palm up, in the space between them.

“Oh,” Eris looked at Micah’s hand, at all the small scars on it. Eris remembered how Micah would place his hand, palm up, next to their heads when they’d slept on the same bed, or on the same sleeping roll, or on the ground. Eris had liked his space, still liked it, but he had liked holding Micah’s hand even more.

Eris was glad that Micah had liked holding his hand as well. They’d held hands like that, foreheads touching and legs tangled, before they fell asleep for the entire decade they’d been lovers. Eris looked at Micah’s hand now, tentatively lacing his long, slender fingers with Micah’s. For whatever reason, it felt intimate, it felt safe. Micah flashed Eris a shy smile, Eris couldn’t help but do the same.

Micah tightened his hold on Eris’s hand, his thumb moving against Eris’s as he shifted just a little closer, eyes closed, their foreheads almost touching. “Goodnight, Eris.” Eris had always envied Micah for how easily he could fall asleep, his breathing already having slowed.

“Thank you, Micah,” Eris murmured, not even sure if he’d been heard. It didn’t take long after Eris closed his eyes, fingers still laced with Micah’s, for him to drift off into a dreamless sleep.

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uchihashisuii · 3 years ago

Text

to be leashed - Obito/OFC

Pairing: Obito Uchiha/Original Female Character | Past Shisui Uchiha/Original Female Character

Summary: Akari had been raised within Konoha's Foundation, ruthlessly conditioned to believe she is nothing short of a tool to be used. After a small taste of freedom at the hands of forging a bond of friendship and love with Shisui Uchiha, she finds herself lost following his suicide. Cast adrift beneath the weight of finding out who she truly is, she stumbles into the grasp of Akatsuki, and the masked Madara Uchiha.

Word Count: 1763

Content Warning: Dark and manipulative Obito, possibly ooc, wee undercurrent of yandere themes, an unhealthy relationship that turns sexual, and if you squint there's even a lick of romance.

Author’s Note: the Akari abandons Konoha and joins Akatsuki AU no one asked for! basically Akari has no sense of self, and is in the perfect state of mind for manipulation. Bit of a darker and more serious fic. I do not know what I’m doing.

Ao3 Link

Part 01 of ??

-----

It is for the best that she is kept leashed.

All her life, Akari had been taught of the danger poised in her hands, how she is unsuitable to use it unless instructed. And she believed, and she obeyed. The Foundation had taught her well, and when she dons the mask she is nothing short of a weapon to be used at Danzō's discretion. And with that she is content.

Life had thrown her through a loop when she met a boy with dark hair and laughing eyes, who showed her that life is more than loyalty and violence. That she is more than the men who use her only for the shadows she weaves and controls, that she has a heart all her own. And Akari had given her heart freely, to him; because he had shown her what it was to love and be loved in return.

And yet Shisui had died anyway. After he cracked open her ribs and pulled free her fragile heart, exposing her to the lightness of the world; he left her alone, abandoned. A ship with no harbor, and her life and philosophy in upheaval.

Akari leaves behind her bone-white mask painted in lines and whirls of red when she runs from Konoha's gates, in fervent search of any who could guide her desperate hands in a world filled with nothing but heartbreak.

-----

She finds him in Amegakure.

-----

In truth she doesn't care one way or the other what Akatsuki's grand plans are. What she does care about is finding use for herself, finding meaning for her damaged little life. She needs to be used, to be necessary.

To be wanted.

-----

Akari listens to the orders passed down from Leader. She avoids the civilians who stop and stare at the embroidered clouds she wears; blood pooled on a field of a night. She avoids Itachi when their paths inevitably cross. She avoids any and every half-hearted attempt at conversation from the more extroverted members of Akatsuki. She is not here to forge friendships or rekindle old ones; she is here to be used to her fullest as a weapon. She avoids the weight of a stare hidden beneath an orange mask, ignores her own curiosity about the man-child who she suspects may be putting up a facade. What ground has she to stand on, when all her life she had donned a mask both physical and metaphorical?

She avoids. She avoids. She avoids.

-----

The leash shortens.

-----

An obedient little girl will accept a collar without question, but sometimes. Sometimes. There isn't any satisfaction or thrill quite like testing the slack. Akari had become an expert at tiny acts of rebellion, when pressed beneath the crushing weight of Danzō's boot. Shisui had guided and encouraged her, to find her own path free of any other's influence. What she had found was a desire to be lead, yet a heady thrill at disobedience.

She doesn't know what's wrong with her. Nor does she want to find out.

It had been ingrained into her mind for as long as she could remember; to obey without question, to bow to the one who holds her leash. A bitter memory of dark hair and laughing eyes, teaching her that it's alright, to do things for yourself. To test the bonds of her obeisance and find what joy she can in small acts of rebellion. Even though she has never believed she belonged to herself -always a tool, always a weapon, in the hands of greater minds- still she cannot silence the voice in her head that begs for her to remember that she is still her, still Akari; she just needs to find her again.

The voice sounds like the boy who loved her, with dark hair and laughing eyes. So she continues, even if she doesn't really understand why, as a sort of homage.

Akari lets slip a target Kakuzu had been seeking. She tampers minutely with weapons that don't belong to her. Sometimes her shadow possession runs out, chakra severing at the last possible moment; so sorry, Leader, but sometimes they wrest from my control. She lets civilians live, even if it squanders an opportunity for cornering a jinchuriki.

Akari believes no one will notice, doesn't believe any within Akatsuki clever enough to track her sloppy actions or even care if they did.

Hubris. Too focused on finding her purpose, on finding the one who will hold her leash and make her feel whole. Too focused on avoiding a certain sharingan stare, she doesn't even register the one hidden beneath a swirled mask, watching her much too closely.

A fool's mistake. One she pays for.

-----

The leash tightens.

-----

Akari arrives back at a rented room of an inn in the middle of nowhere in Rock, and feels a looming apprehension. Eyes trained on her throat; a hunter in the dark. Whoever watches and follows does not mask their presence, and she spares a single thought on possible witnesses before unsheathing the blade at the small of her back, closing the door to the small room behind her.

She cannot see them, but knows they are there; sweat beads on her temple, wiping it away with the back of her wrist impatiently before slowly shrugging off her heavy Akatsuki cloak so it pools around her feet. There is nothing but silence pressing on her ears, and Akari grits her teeth as nerves begin to heighten her pulse. She has no choice but to wait for her pursuer to make the first move, in their dance of predator and prey.

But there is moonlight pouring in from an uncovered window, bathing half the room in shadow. She marks and counts every darkened inch, and feels apprehension - but not fear. They may be hiding in the shadows but that is the only place she can ever truly shine.

When it happens, she loses before their dance can even begin.

An arm shoots through her chest; she feels nothing, her eyes going wide as a gloved hand emerges from her breast and grips her wrist, fingers twisting until she drops her tantō with a clatter. She's too stunned to react right away, the absurdity of what she sees making her freeze. They step through her body, a broad back unfurling in front of her eyes. When they stand in front of her they wrench her arm, making her hiss through clenched teeth before shoving her back against the door, hard enough her head bounces off the wood and she momentarily sees stars. Blinking away her daze, Akari's stomach falls somewhere near her knees as she looks up into that familiar orange mask, and knows beyond any shadow of a doubt that he is much more than he seems.

He holds her fingers tight in his clenched fist, a mockery of a lover's touch. Her bones creak from his strength, insurance that she is unable to weave signs and provoke him further. Sweat drips down her temple as she stares silently into the shadowed hole of his mask, internally kicking herself for refusing to see underneath the underneath. She should never have taken the too-loud and bumbling fool at face value, and now she's going to pay for each and every moment of arrogance.

Tobi reintroduces himself as Madara, his voice dulcet and low, and asks her if she thinks he's an idiot. If she believes he's truly ignorant of the stunts she pulled while under orders. Akari blinks away every facet of her surprise, only outward reaction a quick inhalation before she stamps it down. She aims for cool and careful disconnect, and simply arches a single brow before speaking.

"I assisted in the capture of the Sanbi, as I was instructed to. You should know, you were there. Of course you were acting the fool, so -"

Her words are cut off by his hand shooting forward, fingers tight around her throat. Madara lifts her effortlessly, the toes of her sandals barely brushing the floor. Akari chokes on her breath, eyes going wide as her free hand scrambles to grasp at his fingers, though she is unable to even sway his arm. Panic seizes her chest, mouth opening and closing uselessly.

Madara's hand loosens enough for her to suck in a single wheezing breath, which she repays with her nails sinking in to the skin at his wrist. He does not flinch.

"Followed - orders -" Akari manages to hiss out, clawing at his hand unashamedly as her head begins to swim. "Anything - I do - outside that - is - my own business -"

Madara chuckles, deep in his chest. She's too surprised at the sound to even attempt to catch herself as he suddenly lets her drop. Knees slamming to the floor, Akari coughs and splutters, blinking away the haze as she rubs a palm over her bruised throat.

"You truly think you're doing something, don't you? You don't see the futility or stupidity?" Madara sounds mystified, of all things. After a beat of silence he barks a laugh once more, louder this time, and the sound is nothing short of cruel. He leans down, knees bent as he grasps a handful of her dark hair, tilting her head back so she is forced to look up at him. Akari's pulse roars in her ears as she ignores the sharp sting in her scalp and wonders, distantly, if she's going to die.

"You have no mind of your own, you seek instruction at every turn. Your behavior is nothing more than what you think you should be doing, in the face of unwelcome freedom after your whole life spent leashed and collared by Shimura and the rest of his hounds."

Everything goes still as her throat seizes, lips parted in a silent gasp. Akari feels exposed, and seen, and kami but she's an impressive idiot, isn't she? Of course he knows, of course he sees right through her; she'd expect nothing less from the greatest of the Uchiha. Akari's breath leaves her in a humorless laugh, yet still she stares up into that indecipherable mask.

A fool she may be, but she cannot deny the underlying current of relief. Perhaps - perhaps Madara is the one she was destined to find, who will unleash her on the world and allow her to find her purpose.

"Make no mistake," Madara whispers, leaning forward until the tip of her nose brushes against his mask. Akari shivers, eyes wide as the low tone of his voice washes over her in a heady balm of hushed words that promise her benediction.

"Your leash has simply changed hands."

#obito uchiha #obito x oc #naruto #naruto oc #girl help i genuinely have no idea what this is but i have so much planned #this chapter is super tame but its gonna get so much worse #jules writes #akari #obikari

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valhallasubstitute · 4 years ago

Text

In Times of Celebration...

Osferth x reader

Prompt #13 – ‘There was only one bed’

It’s not every day that the future King turns seven. Edward invites Uhtred and company to join the celebration in Wessex, but you and Osferth arrive later than expected. Due to your late arrival the ale house has only one room available…and that room only has one bed…

WARNINGS: 18+ SMUT, unprotected sex – it’s the ninth century they have an excuse, you don’t. fluff

A/N: My first celebration request done! This is my first time writing Osferth, so I apologize if it’s a little OOC, like Sihtric, his lack of lines haunts me :/

Anyways I’m gonna write the requests in the order they were submitted in so if yours doesn’t pop up as quick as you expected then don’t stress cause you’re on the list and I love you all equally

WC: 2476 - this is ridiculously long, I wanted to set the scene and then got carried away whoops

Tags: @bebbanburgsflame - thank you my love for the request, @flowers-in-your-hayr

It was late when you arrived in Winchester, but the usually dark streets were filled with candlelight and laughter. The future king was turning seven the next day and evidently the best way to celebrate was to grab yourself a cup of ale in one hand and a pretty girl in the other.

Osferth’s hand was on your lower back as you weaved your way through the packed streets, guiding you gently as he smiled at the drunk passers-by, knowing all too well that the rest of your friends would be exactly the same.

The tavern was heaving with people and your good spirits were starting to dwindle. It had been a long ride; your horse was newly broken and while beautiful she was difficult and Uhtred had lost patience with both of your attitude’s. The others had ridden on while Osferth had stayed behind with you. You had ended up swapping horses and how well your horse behaved for the gentle monk had grated on you, but you couldn’t really blame her.

But you could blame Osferth for having the most uncomfortable saddle to ever grace Gods green earth. All you wanted to do was collapse on to the nearest bed and dream away the ache of the ride, but first you had to pay for the room.

The owner was a difficult man to find but his smile was wide and offered the room at half price. You began to protest but he insisted.

‘The healers assure me that my wife is to give birth tomorrow, praise Him. I believe it to be a good sign that he should share a birthday with the future king of Wessex – why should I not share my happiness with you?’

‘Do you hear that Y/N? Praise him indeed.’ Osferth’s smile was infectious, and you couldn’t help but share in his joy.

‘Thank you for your kindness.’

Your gratitude quickly faded as you walked into the room, it was modest, and the bed looked like heaven but there was only one filling the room. Turning to Osferth with a startled expression you expected him to turn on his heels, ready to ask for another room right along with you but he just shrugged and took your bag inside.

‘Osferth what are you doing?’

‘Unpacking?’

‘But- ‘

‘I know but we should be grateful we even got a room.’ He beckoned you, a reassuring smile on his face. You wanted nothing more than to rid him of the look. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to share a bed with him, rather it was a problem that you did. And here he was, smiling at you like it was perfectly fine. Of course you had slept beside each other before, your furs being laid next to each other when you were on the road or napping by the river side by side when at home but you had never shared a bed with him, under the covers, layers of clothes removed… You fought quickly to hide the blush that threatened to out you.

‘I will sleep on the floor; you can have the bed.’

‘You cannot sleep on the floor Y/N.’

‘Then we should ask for another room- ‘

‘There are no other rooms.’ He was laughing at you quietly, his amusement was gentle and light, never pushing you too far. ‘And besides, I do not believe it was such a reach to think us together.’

You threw a pillow at him in an attempt to hide the deep red that was rapidly spreading across your body. He caught it with one hand, a light dusting of pink appearing on his own cheeks.

‘Are you going to help me unpack?’ you shook your head with a grin, settling back into the soft linen. Osferth rolled his eyes but quickly resumed the task at hand. With his back turned you took the opportunity to admire him.

You were surrounded by beautiful people constantly. Your Lord and the men that served him always made the scenery just that much prettier but there was something about the baby monk that had gripped you body and soul. Under all those robes and armour, you knew laid a warrior’s body. To assume otherwise would be a mistake, one you would not make twice.

It took him a while when you first met for him to look you in the eye but when he finally did you were lost in a soft world of blue. Combine that with a jawline that could cut sharper than your sword and you were all in from the very beginning.

And then he grew into himself. You watched along with the others as he stood a little taller, spoke a little louder, held your gaze for as long as you could manage. Boy to man, lamb to wolf, friend to fantasy.

You were so lost in the idea of him that you barely noticed him removing his armour in front of your very eyes until the leather hit the ground. You were transfixed as the layers of clothes were placed on a stool, and milky skin was revealed.

There were hardly any scars, save the large one on his abdomen. He was slighter than the others, but the muscle rippled as he moved regardless, his strength was as quiet as the rest of him but in its silence, it screamed the truth.

You watched as he leant down and undid the laces of his boots. His hands were a frequent visitor in your thoughts. They were calloused from hard work and a hard life, but they held your soup bowl when you were ill, despite the fact it burned him a little. They guided you through packed crowds, keeping you safe and in sight. And when his fingers brushed against your own it felt like God had put him on this earth to make you feel alive.

As he approached the bed, dressed in breeches alone, you found yourself flustered, your thighs clenching together on their own accord.

‘What- why are you undressed?’

‘I do not wish to sleep in my armour Y/N, we’re not on the road and we’re here to enjoy the celebration. If it offends you then I can re dress?’

‘No. I- You’re right.’ You nodded your head as you said it, convincing yourself that he was right and ignoring the pit in your stomach as you removed yourself from the bed.

You started with your boots, kicking them to the side of the room. You had none of the finesse that Osferth had, not when you could feel his eyes on you. Glancing at him every now and again as you removed your weapons you could see him watching you through thick lashes. He had more subtlety than other men, but the intention was the same.

The thought sent tiny sparks through your body, and the colour of his face brought you a little satisfaction. Despite your best efforts his eyes made you clumsy, the knot of your armour unyielding against your fumbling fingers.

You turned yourself away from him, a half-arsed attempt to hide the affect the situation was having on you. You didn’t even hear him coming up behind you and the feel of his hand covering yours made you jump. Your hand dropped to your side like a stone does when thrown into a river and Osferth’s breath fanned against the back of your neck.

His hands made quick work of what yours could not and before you knew it you were lifting your arms, letting the man behind you remove the armour completely. The two of you stood there, your back to his chest, heat radiating off each other and your breath coming out in quick puffs. You turned to him with downcast eyes.

The cross that sat on his chest snapped you out of the lust that coursed through your veins. God did you want this, but you pushed yourself away with a murmur of thanks. He was your friend and a man of God. And despite being a warrior of Uhtred’s your nerve evaporated.

The candles were blown out and your body stiffened as the bed dipped as Osferth climbed in. You could still feel him, his proximity making sleep impossible.

While your body lay perfectly still your mind tossed and turned – you had seen the desire in his eyes, felt his breath coming out quick and hot against you. He had made no move to push you and you had stepped back. But what if you hadn’t?

You rolled over, expecting to be greeted with his back but instead you were met by his face. He looked at peace, his eyes closed and his breathing even. Your intention was not to wake him, but the light tracing of his face stirred him, his hand moving in a flash and long fingers coming to grip your wrist.

‘I shouldn’t have pulled away…’ Your voice was barely a whisper, but his eyes were fixed on you. His grip eased on your wrist and his touch moved from your arm to your waist, squeezing gently.

It felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room and the single thin layer of fabric that separated you from Osferth felt like entirely too much.

You sat up and Osferth followed, confusion evident on his sharp face.

‘Y/N what are you doing?’

Your hand gripped the bottom of your tunic and pulled it over your head before your courage was lost to the night. The air nipped at your skin, your nipples hardening with the ghost touch. Osferth’s eyes were everywhere, desire mixing with the confusion as you crawled towards him.

‘What I should have done.’

He reached for you tentatively, his hands cupping your face and bringing his lips to yours. They were soft and gentle, his tongue parting your lips in exploration.

The taste of him was intoxicating and you climbed into his lap in seek of some relief.

Your hands went from the slopes of his shoulders to the rim of his breeches. He tugged himself free and a blush spread from his chest up to the tops of his ears. The sight of him did not disappoint, his cock stood proud and was already leaking precum.

You had been with other men, but none quite had this effect on you, the want, the arousal, it was all him. The sight of him in such a state pulled a moan from your lips and another wave of wetness to pool between your thighs.

The rest of your clothes were removed, and you lay bare before the monk, your back arched as his hands slowly explored all there was to touch. His touch was feather light, leaving goose bumps in his wake. His lips followed his fingertips and as he tweaked one nipple, he took the other into his mouth, humming as you moaned.

He circled it with his tongue, letting his teeth graze it as he pulled away. Leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses he moved his attention to the other breast, his free hand slowly making its way south.

His name was pulled from your lips in a whine, the pressure of his thumb circling your clit exactly what you needed. His knuckles grazed against your entrance and you could feel him smile against your skin.

Needing to ground yourself there was no better anchor than his member, you could feel it sitting against your thigh. It felt like velvet to touch and the way his breath hitched made your body tingle with anticipation.

The way you held him left Osferth breathless, his own rhythm lost in the way you stroked him. You could feel it, still pumping him you guided him to your entrance.

Unable to censor yourself you gasped at his size. He lingered, teasing you with both his body and smile. His lips melted against yours as he entered you, hot breath fanning your face as gasps and moans filled the room.

Like everything else surrounding you, Osferth was gentle. His pace was steady and his thrusts deep, your fingers lacing together as you pulled him closer, your heels digging into his thighs.

While he used his free arm to prop himself up, you used yours to caress his face, pushing away the strands of blond hair that obscured your view of his pleasure.

You could feel yourself growing closer, relishing in the way he breathed your name as you clenched around him. Releasing your hand, he slipped his own between your bodies finding that sweet spot once more.

Your orgasm creeped up on you slowly, your back arching and your chest brushing against his as you called out, your cries of bliss mixing with the celebrations still raging on below.

Osferth’s own release came quickly after, a soft moan interrupting your panting, his brow creased and mouth silently begging to be kissed.

As you came down from your high Osferth pulled you to him, your limbs tangled as you faced each other, the smiles on your faces couldn’t be hidden, but neither of you had any desire to do so.

‘This may be forward Y/N-‘Your laugh interrupted him, your eyes wide and filled with amused exasperation as you gestured to your naked bodies.

‘I think we’re past forward, Osferth.’ His laugh was soft, and you watched as pink creeped into his complexion once more.

‘You are far more than a friend and I thank God for you, I do not wish to be without you.’

‘After tonight, you do not have to be.’

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The future king of Wessex was paraded through the hall, the priests that proceeded him unable to keep him in check but the atmosphere in the room was one of happiness and good humour.

If anyone were to look over at you, they would think you were overjoyed, the smile on your face rivaled that of the Queen. In reality your hand was slotted with Osferth’s, his thumb tracing circles over your knuckle.

You could feel Finan’s eyeing the two of you, but you could not find it in you to care. You watched as the Irishman lean into Uhtred ear, his voice just high enough to hear above the chanting.

‘I think it’ll be a marriage we’ll be celebrating next.’ You blushed as your Lords eyes fell to you, but Osferth seemed to beam at them, his hand squeezing yours. When he spoke, his voice was as happy as you had ever heard it.

‘I wouldn’t be surprised either Finan.’

You didn’t know what filled you with more excitement at that moment - the fact that he wanted to marry you or that you got to show him just how willing you were when you returned to your shared bed.

#the last kingdom fanfic #tlk fanfic #osferth #osferth x reader #osferth smut #osferth fluff #inga writes #100 followers celebration

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