#i just hate life and how i depend on a fucking train company so much)

[tardis--dreams]

.

[the-bi-space-ace]

Alright strap in I’ve got Crosshair headcanons and thoughts and you are being subjected to them hi hello enjoy:

Really craves friendship. Wants friends more than anything but for the life of him has never been good at making them. Mostly bc his defense mechanism is to be mean to keep strangers at arms length. Choose to have them dislike you before they even get a chance to make that decision themselves. It’s hard to penetrate those defenses.

AND YET this man contradicts every word he says. He hates regular clones huh? Then explain Cody and Echo and Mayday to me Crossy. Explain them to me bro. You even like Rex when it’s all said and done and that man PUNCHED YOU IN THE FACE. Explain yourself Crosshair.

Is pretty quiet for the most part but when he gets chatty it’s a mile a minute. He’ll sit next to his brothers or follow them around and just talk talk talk talk talk. Only happens once in awhile but when it does happen they all just stay quiet and listen to him. First time he did that to Echo it was completely out of the blue and he came up behind Echo and just started ranting. Echo stared at him with wide eyes for like ten minutes like ‘is this real? Is he okay?’ Before just sitting down and getting stuck in an hour long chat where he did like zero talking.

Gossipy bastard. Loves to gossip. Loves hearing it. Loves telling it. He’s so quiet most people forget he’s there and they say wild shit in front of him. He tells the 99 everything.

If one of his brothers asks who his favorite is he changes his answer depending on who has annoyed him most that day. ‘Oh you want to know who my favorite is? Wrecker, clearly. Hunter is my least favorite bc he took too long in the shower and used up all the hot water.’

Massive sweet tooth. Keep this man away from a candy store he’ll give himself cavities.

If they’re training playing with fake blasters he makes a ‘pew pew’ sound when he ‘shoots’ it. Super quiet and under his breath but he does it.

He has a game where he tries to see how many tiny rolled up pieces of paper he can get into Hunter’s hair or armor before Hunter catches on. Oh the amount of times he’s been yanked from his bunk after being caught is innumerable.

Loves listening to Tech infodumping but will never admit it out loud. He has learned so much and has found a lot of it fascinating but prefers to sit quietly and keep his eyes closed while Tech talks.

Him and Wrecker have so many more competitions than just the one. They compete all the time. Who can run the fastest. Who can name the most planets. Anything. As long as it’s a competition.

Pretends to be asleep so people don’t ask him to do things and then promptly actually falls asleep.

Cries. Like a lot. Well. Not a lot just a lot more than you’d think. While most people would think he’s too aloof for that I think he picked up a good habit of letting out big bursts of emotion because he always saw Wrecker do it. And he trusts Wrecker. Doesn’t like crying in front of other people but will hide to get some emotion out before rejoining the group.

Secret softy. But in the way where he’ll make fun of his brothers while doing something nice for them. He’s picking up their fave candy from a shop? He’ll throw it at their face when he gives it to them. They’re upset? He’s going to find a way to make sure they get a good meal and have some company but he’s going to be aggressive about it. ‘You haven’t eaten since yesterday. You’re being an idiot. Eat the fucking burrito I went to three different places to find one that would give me the salsa you like now don’t waste my time.’

His toxic trait is acting like he hates when one of them is hugging him as they are hugging him. ‘Ugh get off of me. You’re the worst.’ As he’s tightly hugging them back. Crosshair, honey, why are you like this?

[sideblogformindtrash]

may i ask, what was pet orfeu's training like?

Own honestly pet Orfeu is such a sad little guy. It was probably a lot easier to train him than you'd expect =/ orfeu has veyr different reactions depending on the point of his life he's at.

Like the older orfeu, near his 30's we know? Nearly impossible. Absolute nightmare.

Fresh out the system 18-19 soaping wet cat Orfeu? Not so hard =/

cw for bbu stuff, noncon, drug abuse, abstinence, sensory deprivation/overload, touch starvation; transphobia and lack of bodily autonomy

For starters, he submitted willingly, and per usual, he was in a terrible place in his life. He was exhausted, depressed, hopeless and struggling with addiction.

The first thing they did was talk to him about his body image and gender. Orfeu is gender-nonconforming, and if left free, he would keep his boobs. He likes them. But being any kind of non-conforming isn’t a good look for a pet, so they said he had to either fully commit and go with top surgery or go out of HRT and sing as a woman. He picked the first option.

He also had his tattoos and piercings removed, and his head was fully shaved so they could then grow it out on a regular haircut.  

The ~~drip didn’t do a full removal of his memories. He had already used it at this point, and omitted that information. But the memories he did retain mostly served to show him he was miserable and unfit to be a free human anyway. 

His first few weeks were very brutal as he was forced to deal with abstinence, mostly alone and locked in a room. At this point he tried to take it all back, cried, begged, screamed and tried to fight. They were somewhat understanding of the behavior since it was due to the drugs, but he still got a beating here and there. 

When those symptoms subsided they got him into a more regular training scheme. And at first, it was kinda challenging.

He was willing to learn and try to be good and his Handler saw that - but he was still Orfeu and had an authority hating, anger prone reactive ass. 

It took trial and error. THey first started with pain and corporal punishment, since they didn't have to be as careful since he was already scarred - but that didn’t have as much of an effect. It made him angrier and skittish.

Eventually they figured out what worked the best for him was a combination of sensory deprivation/overload for punishment, a semi-permanent touch starved status, and a lot of positive reinforcement and praise.

Orfeu has hardly ever been praised in his life, so even just being called a ‘good boy’ did wonders to soften his behavior, and they integrated a lot more of it and started exploiting that in his training. 

After that they started making more progress at grinding him down. They convinced him his anger was all part of how bad it had been before, that he didnt need that now, that he could be a good pet and that he would be so loved if he was good.

And well, somehow he committed. He also just started dissociating heavily, almost constantly and living in auto-pilot.

He didn’t really interact with other pets. They tried sometimes and he mostly ignored them unless a handler had instructed him to interact. He wasn’t able to hold very long conversations either. 

They did train him as a romantic, and it was kind of a challenge to not have him just dissociate all the time. Keeping him very very touch starved helped with this, since he would begin to crave sex even if just to be held.

He also took some classes. He did well enough on some, and failed miserably at cooking every single time. 

He was also very hard to sell. He is off putting to look at, has a weird smell, he can’t be in a house that has animals in it, and a lot of people found him a bit too numb and boring.

So much so he started to become sort of a company pet for a while. He just was easy to handle and have around, and some trainers liked to take him home on weekends and fuck him as well. 

Eventually however he was sold.

[bitterarcs]

UNEXPECTED FLAWS.

People generally assume Reno, and all the Turks really, are proficient at using every weapon. Some of them may very well be. In order to pass basic training and even be considered for the Turks, all rookies need weapons training and pass a marksmanship test. Reno was fairly competent and a good shot upon joining the Turks, but now he's pretty awful. Yeah, give him a gun, and he can shoot someone from a close distance. Reno has never liked guns, hence his poor mastery of it and absence of gun at his side.

It's likely people assume he's good at first aid and field medicine. Yes, Reno knows how to do the basic. His life depends on it and the lives of his comrades. He knows what to do in the case of heat exhaustion, hypothermia, and blood loss, but he is quite terrible at treating actual wounds. Staunching a wood and disinfecting a wound is one thing, but anything with fractured bones or suturing wounds together . . and it'll look like a shitshow.

UNEXPECTED SKILLS.

Writing skills, language, and office work. Look, Reno fucking hates paperwork. He'll try to get Rude or even Elena to do his, but when he actually does it? It's pretty flawless. Takes fucking forever, but it's pretty spectacular when he completes it. This is only because he takes an extraordinary amount of pride when it comes to ShinRa and his work for the company. Very very few people would know this, and would only come to this knowledge witnessing first hand, but Reno can speak and write in three different languages.

Reno is a really good fighter. Like seriously. He doesn't need the mag-rod to kick ass. When it comes to fighting machines and monsters, he definitely needs an accessory weapon, hence the mag-rod. Otherwise Reno is exceptional in mixed martial arts. He can't hit them as hard as the SOLDIERs or even like Rude, so Reno hits them fast. And it's not just about hitting fast, it's about taking an enemy down quickly. Before most people realize exactly what is going on, Reno will either have their limbs pinned in a place which will break if they do not submit or he'll have thighs wrapped around their neck to cut off their air supply. He has taken down men head and shoulders and hundreds of pounds heavier than him with quick submission maneuvers. People either submit and come out of it with a bruised ego or end up with a few broken things.

EXPECTATIONS.

Reno enjoys keeping people on their toes around him, because he enjoys seeing the surprise in people's face when they realize he isn't singularly dimensional. He actively tries to beat people's expectations and deviate from the norm which people's opinions have built around him. Of course not every aspect of Reno can be shocking, and he does not actively do or say something different just to be like hey, i'm not what you expect. For one thing, Reno flirts with women openly and readily. He has even been seen leaving bars with women at his side, however his relationship with women is strictly platonic. A lot of people find it shocking to discover that Reno is homosexual. I could go on just on the subject of his sexuality and the perception, but that's really all I'll say in this post. People also expect, for some reason, him to be dirty and lazy. To some point it is true. His office space at ShinRa is pretty much a mess, but the paperwork he submits is immaculate. Parts of his home are messy, but it's not a pigsty; it's at its messiest when Reno returns to Midgar from abroad missions.

Some specifics: Reno never makes his bed and doesn't fold his laundry, BUT he keeps his fridge clean and really organized ( helps there's very much in there ), clothes are hung up to prevent wrinkles, and his bathroom is kept cleaner than most men's.

Overall Reno's cleanliness throws people through a loop. He'll have no problem eating the greasiest of foods and if he gets a piece of food stuck on his shirt, it's no big deal. If his shoes gets cuffed, it's no big deal. As long as a tear in clothing looks fitting, he'll keep wearing the article of clothing. On the flip side, he typically showers daily and really, really takes the time to keep up his appearance. From head to toe, he doesn't like a hair to be out of place. Depending on sexual activity, he's really good about cleaning his sheets. Sheets are always cleaned after sex, if sex takes place in his bed, and regardless he'll clean his sheets and towels about twice a week if time permits. I also won't go into too much detail about this, but I will say that this is caused by multiple competing factors.

Reno literally grew up in terrible conditions in the slums, so he appreciates cleanliness now that he has it. At heart I think Reno is more on the dirty and lazy side, however he does have certain obsessive compulsions. Looking at how and why he smokes gives insight into this too. Cleaning and maintaining his appearance provides his ritual which helps reduce stress. . . . This is all to say Reno is complex and when people realize how cleanly he actually is, it's funny to see them surprised.

There are plenty of other examples of meeting and exceeding expectations. For enemies who just give him one glance or for newbies entering ShinRa, Reno tends to surprise almost everyone with precisely how agile he is. I've gone into detail about this in the above section.

Okay, super super short and simply. People think Reno is idiotic, just a clown, and a slacker, but he's quite the opposite. He does purposefully make himself look clownish to get the advantage on people.

Random question re. headcanons for Reno but is there something that one would assume Reno is very good at and he isn't (or vice-versa)? In what ways does he defy expectations and is this something he actively enjoys and/or seeks to do or doesn't really care about? @stingslikeabee         (   is this a love confession, melissa ?  )

[isthilll]

RULES: answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions

@jxstnn thanks for tagging me i love questions💙

coke or pepsi: no preference

disney or dreamworks: fuck these companies but how to train your dragon is one of my all time favourite movies

coffee or tea: tea forever

books or movies: movies. I wish I read more but I need to work on my attention span for that

windows or mac: who cares both bad

dc or marvel: again fuck these companies but I love spiderman and wolverine

x-box or playstation: I have an xbox

dragon age or mass effect: dragon age

night owl or early riser: night owl despite the fact that I looooove mornings, I always miss them

cards or chess: C A R D S ! ! ! love cards I fuckin suck at chess. uses too much working memory

chocolate or vanilla: vanilla probably

vans or converse: I only wear boots

lavellan, trevelyan, cadash, or adaar: sigh. adaar to fulfill my futile dream of being tall

fluff or angst: neither tbh

beach or forest: beach in cloudy/rainy weather, forest in sunny weather

dogs or cats: depends on the individual. I love an animal who will nap with me all day but some dogs are too energetic and some cats are too independent

clear skies or rain: rain :)

cooking or eating out: COOKING. restaurants are unpleasant places

spicy food or mild food: spicy

halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: halloween

would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: I'm already forever a little too cold so I’m used to that

if you could have a superpower, what would it be: SHAPESHIFTING

animation or live action: depends on the context but I like way more live action media than animated

paragon or renegade: idk I’ve played like 4 hours tops of mass effect

baths or showers: showers

team cap or team ironman: lol both bad but I’ll hate ironman eternally for personal reasons

fantasy or sci-fi: fantasy probably

do you have three or four favourite quotes, if so what are they: “you can do whatever you want forever”

youtube or netflix: youtube I guess. I don’t really use streaming services

harry potter or percy jackson: I like percy more anyway but I’m also trans so it’s a double win for percy

when do you feel accomplished: idk if I ever really do. I live a very low-effort life working retail and staying in my normal parents’ houses and I don’t do anything that’s all that impressive. I suppose I do feel accomplished when people like me

star wars or star trek: I think I’m about equal on both. they’re alright

paperback books or hardcover books: I don’t read books often enough to have a preference

to live in a world without literature or without music? depends on how you define literature. if we’d just be lacking some forms of published writing, I’d rather music still be around

who was the last person to make you laugh? my friend :)

city or countryside? countryside, but only because I don’t get to see it often. if I was there all the time I think I’d miss the city too

favorite chips? chicken and tomato flavour

pants or dresses? BIG PANTS 4EVER

libraries or museums? libraries are more important admittedly but I visit museums more frequently

character driven stories or plot driven stories? character driven 100%

bookmarks or folding pages? bookmarks that are just spare scraps of paper

dream job? idk jobs just seem like they suck perpetually, especially as someone with very little drive or interests or energy. I have fantasies of working on a small farm but I’m too physically weak for that atm

(added question) What gives you comfort? being around animals, going for walks, napping with friends

[lubdubsworld]

GIFT .

Genre : Brother-in-law Jungkook x OC!

Warnings : Yandere Jungkook! Non Consent. Manipulative behaviour. Explicit Sexual Content, Violence, Murder

Author's Note : I love reading Yandere fics so I just wanted to write one!! Its very different from what I usually write... So proceed with caution.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time I met Jungkook , it was five years into my relationship with Namjoon.

Namjoon had told me all about his baby brother, a final year student in SNU. Jungkook majored in Business , training to take over the company business . Namjoon often mentioned that it was Jungkook's offer to switch majors that had helped him pursue his own dream of being a music producer.

So when he told me that Jungkook was on a break from university and his parents were looking forward to having a proper family dinner with all of us, I was excited to meet the boy , I'd heard so much about. Namjoon was endlessly fond of his little brother and I wanted him to like me just as much.

Namjoon and I had met seven years earlier in the University Library and had become fast friends. We were both quiet, intellectually driven individuals, preferring to spend our time in the library as opposed to partying with our friends. And yet, in a twist , against our family’s wishes, we had chosen not to pursue an academically driven career either. I’d always felt out of place in my own friend group, most of my friend from Journalism being extroverted and fun loving. Namjoon for his part had only two very close friends, Yoongi and Hoseok and preferred spending time by himself as well.

So it was only natural that we fell in with each other with ease. His beautiful dimpled smile tugged on my gut, even as his gentle nature and gorgeous mind made my heart pound. I fell in love with him, between the late night laughter in the library and the soft secrets whispered against my skin, in the privacy of his bed.

“Nervous?” His voice drew me to the present, fingers inking with mine as he lightly knocked his shoulders against mine, staring down at me with a dimpled smile. I shook my head quickly, squeezing his hand gently.

“Of course not. I just want him to like me.” I whispered and Namjoon chuckled.

“Jungkookie isn’t very expressive so don’t worry if he isn’t very vocal in his affections. He’s very shy with new people but I’m sure, he’ll love you.” Namjoon reached out and lightly, brushed the hair off my face before leaning down and giving me a quick kiss.

I gripped his waist, pressing in closer, lips parting instinctively  , eager to chase the taste of him. He groaned and gripped my elbow, pulling me around to press up against the tall , lean strength of his body and this was it, this endless need to touch him even after seven whole years of being together. I moaned when he bit down on my lips, my back arching a bit to press into him.

“Hyung?”

We parted, surprised and I felt my face flame, lips slicked wet and no doubt red from where Joon’s teeth had sunk in.

What a first impression.

“Ahh… Jungkook-ah… You came out?” Namjoon looked a little flustered, dimples peeking out in an abashed smile as he laughed embarrassedly I found myself smiling at Jungkook, who looked nothing like I’d imagined.

I’d been expecting someone cute and friendly.

Jungkook was dressed in all black, tall and intimidating. He was also almost surreally beautiful, gaze piercing and steady as he stared at me. I felt an instinctive urge to hide, not missing the way his gaze trailed up and down my body, lips parting gently to reveal a pair of bunny teeth that looked jarringly adorable on a face that was , quite simply put, arrestingly gorgeous.  

He hummed, still standing in the doorway, eyes trained on me and I swallowed when he smiled , wide and open. His tongue darted out, lightly licking his lower lip .

“Hi, Hana.” He said softly and I startled.

“Hana? I’m sure you mean noona…..” I laughed nervously and even Namjoon looked surprised and Jungkook merely smiled, shrugging.

“You don’t feel like a noona.” He said casually.

I merely stared at him, not sure what he meant. Namjoon laughed a little as well, moving over to lightly hug his brother.

“Yah! You’ve just met her. Isn’t it too soon to start being a brat?” He ruffled his hair playfully before turning to me.

“Come on, Hana. Come say hi to my parents.” Namjoon walked in and I rushed to follow him, pausing when I reached the doorway. I smiled at Jungkook, holding a hand out slowly.

“I’ve heard so much about you Jungkook, I hope we can be friends…” I said sincerely and he stared at my hand, not taking it. Instead he gave me another soft smile. Before leaning down and pressing a kiss to the back of my hand, making me jump .

“You don’t feel like a friend either.” He said with a shrug , before moving away, leaving me stunned on the doorway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years later :

“Seven months? Namjoon we’re getting married in seven months! How am I supposed to plan a whole wedding , with you away from the country?” I asked desperately, watching as Namjoon sat with his head in his hands. He looked stricken, regretful and pained and I felt terrible for being unreasonable but it was impossible not to feel hurt.

“I know..  I know hana, I’m so fucking sorry. But this is such a huge opportunity and its not just me : Hoseok and Yoongi depend on me. I can’t screw things up for them too.” He whispered and I exhaled.

Namjoon had been offered a chance to produce for a very high end recording label based out of the US and they wanted him to stay there for a minimum of seven months. The offer had been a complete surprise, out of the blue and the timing couldn’t have been worse. I’d been accepted into an internship at a popular magazine and it would be impossible for me to go with him. And I was so desperate to go.

We’d never been apart for more than a few days, in the entirety of our relationship and the thought of not seeing him for months made me want to throw up.

“I’ve spoken to Jungkook. He’ll help you with all the things that have to be done. And I swear that I’ll be back at least a month before the date, alright? No matter what happens.” Namjoon said firmly. I swallowed, nodding nervously.

It was true that I didn’t like the idea of being away from Namjoon. But the thought of keeping him away from a dream that he had worked so hard for, was almost unfathomable.

Besides, Jungkook was reliable and sweet. The perfect gentleman. Especially now that he’d taken over as his father’s Executive Assistant, Jungkook was incredibly good at organizing and planning things out.

With his help, I could plan out our wedding to perfection.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next five months were spent in a haze of appointments and fittings and bookings. Jungkook had arranged for a shift in my internship hours, so he and I could spend a solid four hours every day, visiting different vendors, picking out the perfect floral arrangements, napkins, brocade and what not. And for once, I found myself completely enthralled by the idea of spending money of frivolously pretty things. Whether it was the florists or the patisserie, the dress fitting or the invitations, I felt my excitement bubbling over , amazed because marrying into Namjoon’s family meant an unlimited budget and for once, I didn’t mind being extravagant.

What was more, I didn’t miss Namjoon nearly as much as I thought I would. Because deep down , I knew that he wouldn’t have enjoyed this all that much. And I would have felt guilty , dragging him everywhere.

And Jungkook was the one to thank for all of it. He picked me up everyday for an early breakfast , followed by hours of combing the streets for ideas and appointments. He was funny and enthusiastic, eager to help me in every way and I was so grateful that I couldn’t thank him enough.

“I owe you so much, Kookie. You’ve been a life saver.” I groaned, collapsing on the couch and dropping my head back against the backrest. Jungkook chuckled, sitting down on one of the Turkish ottomans and lightly grabbing my ankle, pulling my foot onto his lap. I flushed a little, still not used to how touchy he was.

Jungkook liked wrapping his arms around my waist when we were out and about, fingers fluttering up my sides or brushing hair off my face with easy familiarity. I didn’t mind. He reminded me of my little brother back in Ilsan.

Most of the people we met assumed he was the groom and Jungkook told me it would be better to keep up the ruse because wedding planners were more comfortable when couples came together and I’d agreed, albeit a little reluctantly. I missed Namjoon and I wondered if he would mind. But when I mentioned it in passing to him during one of our daily video calls, he’d merely laughed it off.

“You’re so tense, Hana. You should relax. Everything is going to be okay.” Jungkook said softly, soft fingers digging into the curve of heel before brushing the arch of my foot. I smiled when he tugged my foot close, placing it down on the firmness of his thigh.

I gazed down at him, feeling uncomfortably nervous. This whole thing seemed oddly intimate somehow and I felt the first tendrils of guilt begin to curl around my gut. I swallowed, hating myself for tainting something that was no doubt innocent. I ought to be grateful that my future brother in law was this kind to me.

“I know. Thank you. I just miss him sometimes.” I said softly. The fingers stilled on my foot.

“Only sometimes?” He teased, eyes narrowed and tone just a little colder and I hesitated.

“I don’t miss him when you keep me company. You help me forget that I’m doing all of this by myself.” I said honestly. Jungkook inhaled sharply, his gaze flicking to mine, holding mine with an intensity that made me balk a little.

“You mean, that?” He asked quietly and I laughed at how serious he looked.

“Of course I do.  I was so sure this whole thing would be me being miserably lonely but you’ve kept me laughing and happy. I’m going to ask Namjoon to buy you something expensive and amazing when he comes back.”

“He already has something amazing. It’s the only thing I really want.” Jungkook said quietly, fingers stroking up, gently massaging my foot all the way up my calf. I groaned at how good it felt.

“Really what is it?” I asked curious.

Jungkook squeezed my knee before carefully placing my foot down , reaching for the other one.

“You’ll know soon, Hana.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

True to his word, Namjoon called me exactly a month before our wedding date.

“Guess who’s leaving the God forsaken place this weekend?”

I felt warmth flood my insides, heart racing with pure joy, tears brimming over because I’d honestly resigned myself to the fact that he wouldn’t be able to make it back on time.

“Monday i, I’ll be there. Can’t wait to kiss you, my love.” He whispered and I nodded, laughing.

Finally, Everything would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Namjoon’s flight was due to arrive late night ,somewhere between twelve and one in the morning. I’d taken a nap in the afternoon, so I could be up to welcome him back. Jungkook arrived at around seven with Takeout and flowers.

He didn’t ring the doorbell, letting himself in with the spare key I’d given him for emergencies. I found myself scrambling for my robe because I’d taken a nice long shower and slipped on a silk negligee, short and ending just over my knees . I could feel his eyes on me as I hastily tied the sash together, flustered. The robe wasn’t long either and I felt absolutely exposed, even worse than when he’d stepped into the dressing room during my fitting, offering to help me with the zipper.

“ Jungkook, what are you doing here?” I asked nervously and he shrugged, eyes still trailing over my legs, the skin bare. I felt his gaze like a caress and some instinct told me I was in danger. I shook my head to clear it. How ridiculous.

This was Jungkook. Sweet, wonderful Jungkookie. My best friend these past few months. There was no one else I could be safer with.

“I knew you’d be excited, what with hyung coming back and all. So, I thought I’d drop by and at least make sure you’re well fed.” He grinned, holding the tae out up. I smiled and nodded, moving to get plates and glasses from the kitchen.

I heard Jungkook moving around in the living room and when I went back in , I found that he had two glasses of wine ready on the table, an expensive bottle of merlot opened nearby. I smiled a bit, shaking my head.

“What are we celebrating?” I asked curiously and he shrugged.

“Namjoon hyung is coming back right? It means I’ll be getting my amazing gift tonight.” He said softly, picking his glass up and taking a sip and I rolled my eyes.

“You’re such a child. You can’t wait for a day to get your gift?”

Jungkook hummed. He looked ethereal in the dim golden light of the apartment. Like something out of a fairytale. All dark ebony hair and porcelain skin. I wondered, again….why he never dated. He was easily one of the most beautiful humans I’d ever seen in my life. And that voice.

The voice of an angel.

“I’ve been waiting for years, Hana. I’m sick and tired of waiting.” He said softly, voice low and eyes somehow dark and I tried to hold my smile.

“Well, I hope you enjoy it.” I grinned and he smiled, all teeth.

“Oh, I intend to. Thoroughly.”

I took my own glass and took a deep sip , before holding it against his.

“To no longer waiting and finally getting what we want.” I said cheerfully, thinking of the long months without Namjoon and the few hours till he would be back in my arms. Jungkook chuckled and clinked his glass against mine.

“To you, Hana.” He said simply and I blushed, surprised and flattered.

We ate the take out but just a few bites in, I felt my eyes getting heavy which was so unfair. It was barely eight. And I’d slept in the afternoon. What was wrong with me? I was supposed to be up till Namjoon came home.

“You alright, love?” Jungkook asked sweetly , getting out of his chair and making his way over when I almost knocked the glass of water over, fingers trembling. I pouted, even as his fingers curled over my shoulders, gripping lightly.

“Why am I so drowsy?” I whined in desperation and he leaned down, lightly resting his chin on my shoulder.

“You need to rest, hana. Come on, let’s get you to bed…. “

Eyes heavy and limbs turning to jelly, I could barely blink as he reached down and scooped me into his arms , carrying me into the bedroom. I felt his fingers tug on the sash of my robe, a protest building up at the action but he shushed me gently.

“I’m just helping you out of this, Hana. Rest now… Namjoon hyung will be here soon and we have a long night ahead of us, you and I.”

I could feel my mind churn at that, confusion warring with apprehension because why was Jungkook inserting himself in tonight? What did he have to do with Namjoon and I ?

Sleep beckoned and I found myself slipping into the darkness before I could fully ponder on his words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up sweaty and damp , body overheated and my head foggy. I made to move and felt my heart pound when I realized my hands were tied up to the headboard. I blinked, only to be met with darkness because there was something tied around my eye as well.

“Jungkook?!” I called out panicking and there was a low chuckle.

And then a very familiar scent.

Namjoon.

I sagged in relief.

“Joon…it’s you….” I breathed out . “ Come on, do we really have to do this right away? I wanna see you…” I whispered desperately.

Fingers brushed over my ankle and I jumped.

“Namjoon?” I whispered . The bed dipped next to me, and I felt the brush of his shirt against my bare arm. It was soft and silky , familiar because I’d bought it for him for his birthday and he’d sent me a pic of him wearing it, from the airport today.

“Okay… I’ll play.” I laughed softly. “ Just untie me… I wanna touch you..”

“Sshhh…..” A finger pressed against my lip and I startled. Throat dry, I gulped.

But I didn’t say anything, biting my lips nervously as I felt him climb over me, one knee on either side of mine, fingers curling on my thighs, lips pressing against my cheek. I sighed, relishing the soft press of his lips, up and down my neck, the damp wetness of his tongue as he licked the skin right after, teeth nipping gently and then with more force.

I trembled as soft fingers tugged on my negligee tugging the fabric up and away from my body, raising it up till it pooled near my chest. I felt the tug on my panties, yanking the fabric off and then the weight of him went away, a breathy exhale that sounded both calm and somehow desperate, his body moving down to lightly hold my knees, parting my legs.

I bent my knees, spreading my thighs the way he clearly wanted me to, hearing him groan in return. He used his thumbs to gently part the damp folds of my centre and I felt my entire body shudder at the press of his tongues against the most intimate parts of me.

Choking, I could only lay there and take it, his tongue licking the slick folds, over and over again with an almost curious insistence, like he was tasting me for the first time and I could feel his body trembling on the bed as he did. I felt his teeth tug on the hardened nub, bruising hard and yet somehow almost playful and cheeky and I found myself squirming in pleasure, wetness seeping out of me .

The tip of his finger found my slit, running up and done the length of it in a slow, gentle caress, gathering the moisture there and I trembled when he reached my clit, gently rubbing circles on the little bundle before moving back down to trace my entrance. I was so wet, getting wetter by the second and I’d never wanted to be fucked so bad.

“Please…..baby… I want you ….in me…” I choked out and he chuckled, a little mischievous and unlike him.

The finger dipped in, shallow and barely in and I whimpered in desperation.

“More.. Please…. I want more.. Want you… Its been so long…”

I felt him move back at that and then he was there, right between my legs. I felt the clink of metal as he unbuckled himself, the sound of his zipper and the rustle of fabric as he pushed his trousers off. I could feel the hard muscles of his thigh against the back of mine as he scooted closer, felt the brush of his hard length against my center, the head dipping in just lightly.

He pushed forward, driving in with so much force that my entire body shuddered in shock. And in just that second, I knew, with dawning horror…….

This was not Namjoon.

I screamed, so loud my own ears rang and  a palm pressed down into my mouth, forceful and unrelenting. And terrifyingly unfamiliar.

“Hana…” Jungkook’s voice near my ear made me choke on my tears, my mind splintering in shock and betrayal, body going rigid in terror as he pulled out , only to slide back in.

“Knew it would be worth it, keeping myself pure for you….” He crooned against my skin and I whimpered, wetness spilling over my eyelashes as I tried to squirm away, my mind body and soul only screaming for the man I loved.

“Don’t worry about anything ….Hyung’s in a better place now. “ Jungkook chuckled deeply and I felt my skin go ice cold at the implication. He moved his hand away and I coughed, choking.

“Jungkook….”

The blind fold came off and he kept pumping into me, hips moving erratically, no rhythm or grace and it was obvious he’d never done this before, obvious in the way he looked : blissed out and feral, eyes unfocused as he stared down at me. I felt him tremble and shake, before going still . I felt warm wetness flood my insides and bile rose, nausea making breathing difficult. He stayed on me and inside me, his body so large and immovable, heavy and suffocating over my own.

“what are you doing Jungkookie?” I sobbed out in disbelief and he glared at me.

“What does it fucking look like I’m doing? I’m taking what I fucking deserve….” He snarled. “ Two fucking years…. He doesn’t deserve you. Spends all his days and nights holed up in that studio of his with his friends….leaves you to fend for yourself. You deserve to be waited on, hand and foot… you deserve the world, hana…and he wouldn’t let you experience any of it. Fucking bastard….

“No… No.. God …no..” I choked out. It was the shirt.

He was wearing Namjoon’s shirt. And his cologne. The shirt I knew my boyfriend had been wearing today. How did he get it??

Jungkook brushed his fingers on my cheeks .

“What’s wrong baby? Are you worried about him? Wondering where he is…” He chuckled. “ I told you..he’s in a better place right now..”

“No… you’re lying..you wouldn’t…”

“Wouldn’t I? You know me that well , hana?” He teased.

No. No I didn’t I didn’t know him at all.

“How about this? If you marry me…. If you let me have this dream wedding with my dream girl…. “ He smirked,” If you let me love you the way you deserve , maybe I’ll take you to visit him…someday. ”

I closed my eyes.

I couldn’t process what I’d just heard… I didn’t know… if he was bluffing. What if he had actually killed-

I couldn’t believe that. I couldn’t. It would break me.

“Okay… Just…please don’t hurt him…” I whispered.

Jungkook smiled.

“Just relax Hana. Everything’s going to be okay.”

AUTHORS NOTE : THIS IS LITERALLY MY FIRST TIME WRITING SOMETHING LIKE THIS PURELY OUT OF IDLE CURIOSITY

~~~~~~~~~~~

[trentaafcsblog]

NSFW Alphabet

Mason Mount

A - aftercare You’d be lying if you said that this wasn’t sometimes your favourite part about having sex, something about how soft and caring Mason becomes once the two of you have reached your highs just making you feel like the only girl in the world, and don’t get me wrong, he looks after you in the best possible way when you’re doing the business, but he’s just so much more attentive afterwards and he’s happy to kiss, cuddle and play with your hair as long as you need him to

B - body part Your ass, god he’s got an obsession with it, always catching him licking his lips whenever you wear *those* gym leggings or a tiny pair of shorts, and it’s got to the point where it feels weird not to have his hand glued to it twenty-four-seven

C - cum At the start of your relationship you were super strict about Mason wearing a condom, so it’s only recently that you’ve started to be a bit more adventurous when it comes to your orgasms, letting him try out all kinds of different things to see which you both prefer, whether that’s cumming on your ass, your your tits, in your mouth or inside your pussy, you’re still trying to figure that your one out, but it’s honestly the hottest thing knowing that at least one part of your body is decorated with his seed

D - dirty secret You’ve recently discovered the world of sexting, and it’s quite possibly your favourite thing, loving how you can pass your thumbs tapping away on your screen as ‘oh I’m just messaging my boyfriend’, when actually you’re begging him to be balls deep inside of you tonight whilst he fucks your pussy raw

E - exposed Not to jinx it but you haven’t been caught yet, there was one time where his mum came home from work early and you were face down on the mattress whilst Mason fucked you from behind, but that’s as close as it’s got, and fingers crossed it stays that way

F - foreplay Again, it’s something that’s taken time for the two of you to get into the swing of doing, but now it’s become an essential part of your sex lives, sometimes not even bothering to do the actual deed and instead just letting Mason eat you out whilst you suck his dick, loving how the other person can bring you so much pleasure in the most incredible ways

G - goofy At the start of your relationship there were a couple of times when you ended up in a fit of giggles, mainly because you were both worried incase you got ‘too’ into it and the other person wasn’t ready, but now you’re so much more comfortable around one another that it’s rare that you have outbursts of random giggles anymore 

H - horny Mason finds it hard not to be when you’re his girlfriend, always wandering around with a boner because you look so good all the time, looking at you with a twinkle in his eye each time you come down wearing a tiny top or a little pair of shorts in the hope that you catch on to what he’s thinking

I - intimacy It’s such an important part of your relationship, taking you a little while to feel completely comfortable around one another but now you’re both so close, both emotionally and sexually, which obviously helps when it comes to the bedroom

J - jack off Normally he tries to keep himself under control, especially since he knows that his hand has nothing on yours, but there have obviously been times when he’s been caught out and he just has to relieve some of his tension, sometimes struggling to keep himself sane when you’re busy spamming him with messages explaining how you’ll be sucking him off later

 K - kinks Mason’s got the biggest praise kink, loving how he thrusts deeper into your pussy or groans in your ear each time you call him your good boy, finding it so hot that those kinds of compliments just roll of your tongue without you even thinking, his brain fogging over with pure pleasure each time and causing his cock to almost explode 

L - location You usually stick to the bedroom, obviously there have been occasions where you’ve had sex on the sofa halfway through a movie or let him bend you over the kitchen whilst you’re making dinner, but you much prefer to keep it under the covers

M - moaning That boy knows what he’s doing so it’s practically impossible for you to hold back your moans, always turning into a complete whimpering mess for him when he’s slamming into you, and Mason’s just the same, always grunting and groaning in your ear with each thrust because you make him feel so good 

N - nudes You’ve both sent and received a fair few, Mason always choosing to pass his over when you’re out for lunch with your friends or sat at work, a series of photos of his rock solid cock appearing on your screen and causing the most furious blush to sweep across your cheeks, Mason finding it hilarious how you’ll get so turned on in an environment where you can’t do anything about it, only giving you a reason to punish him when you’re home 

O - oral His favourite thing in the whole wide world is seeing you knelt before him with his cock in your mouth, fucking your face for hours on end just so that he can hear you gagging and spluttering around him, your eyes streaming with tears and rolling back into your head as his cock hits the back of your throat

P - position Mason’s got two favourites - doggy and missionary, his choice of position depends on the mood that he’s in, opting for doggy if he wants to be a bit rough and reach his orgasm quickly, but choosing missionary when he wants to be a bit more intimate with you, loving how he can be so much closer to you and how you can feel his thrusts so much deeper

Q - quickie You both prefer longer sex sessions but obviously when the seconds are counting down on the clock then you’re making the most of the time that you have together, letting Mase fuck you at the most ridiculous speed before he needs to go to training or before you’re about to head out for dinner with your mates, loving how you can go about your day afterwards as though you haven’t just had your brains blown out, nobody knowing what you’ve been up to other than you two

R - risk You’re not the biggest risk takers to be honest, preferring to keep your sex life exclusively between the two of you rather than sharing it with a whole car park or holiday complex, but saying that, you have let Mason fuck you on the balcony in the early hours of the morning and you’ve also sucked him off in one of the back rooms at Stamford Bridge, yet other than that it’s pretty much safe sex in the company of just you and Mase

S - spit/swallow Swallow, always, why would you want to waste the aftermath of all of your hard work? Mason finding it the hottest thing ever that you don’t even have to contemplate your next move when he cums in your mouth, giving him your best innocent eyes or a little wink before you’re swallowing it down without any hesitation

T - toys You’ve got a vibrator that occasionally makes an appearance when you feel like you’re missing something in the bedroom, but nine times out of ten, you just let Mason do the work, his cock hitting all of the places that no toy could and his fingers rubbing your clit in a way that feels so good that you can’t even compare it to a vibrator, both of you preferring to be the people that bring each other pleasure, rather than letting a toy do the work

U - unfair Never ever ever, Mason’s honestly the sweetest person when it comes to sex so he’ll never cum before you, and even if he’s desperate to reach his orgasm, then he’ll try and hold off until your pussy is spasming around his cock first, hating seeing you begging and whining for him to let you cum so he’s always making sure that your needs are met well before his own

V - volume You can be prettyyy loud, which isn’t really hard when Mason fucks you so well, loving how you can scream his name as loudly as you want when it’s just you and him, your moans bouncing off the walls and echoing in his ears for hours afterwards, honestly finding your whines and whimpers so fucking sexy, especially since he knows he’s the only one making you feel that way

W - wild card Mason’s recently invested in a Polaroid camera to try and capture some of your best memories together, and somehow it’s managed to make its way into the bedroom too, resting on his bedside table until the perfect photo opportunity arises, taking a few snaps and hiding them away ready to look at when you need a bit of inspiration

X - x-ray It’s a good size, a veryyy good size, well and truly filling you up and managing to hit all of the right places, so you definitely aren’t complaining, even if it does sometimes take you a while to adjust to his length, much to Mason’s satisfaction 

Y - yearning He’s always in the mood to fuck you, I mean, who wouldn’t be when they’ve got such a pretty girl as their partner? Always catching him staring at your ass or letting his mind run free when his gaze brushes over your tits, but you don’t mind, because secretly you’re doing exactly the same to him

Z - zzz It’s hard not to fall asleep after sex, particularly your longer sessions, and regardless of whether it’s emotion-based or rough, it’s still wearing you both out and you can’t help but collapse in each other’s arms and drift off into a deep sleep afterwards, staying in the same position until the sun starts rising and you’re woken up to the memories of last night 

[cowboycakes]

The Strategy

Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Reader

Synopsis: The forest was the last place you thought you'd find yourself infatuated with someone you barely knew - especially not your cocky prisoner.

Themes: angst, flirting, guilty love, big plot twist

Warnings: kissing and suggestive language, bullying / teasing, mentions of death, some anxious thinking, light alcohol and tobacco use, profanity. reader uses she/her pronouns. s4 spoilers.

Word Count: 5.7k

Anon (🐸)'s Request: Hi ! Can I request a Zeke x fem reader imagine/one-shot? Reader is a captain for the survey corp and long time veteran. She is really intelligent and is a strategist for the corp. They kind of hate each other but have a lot of chemistry but start bonding before the forest incident. Sorry if that isn't specific enough and too vague.

On occasion, you tended to be so logical that it ruined your life. There was no room in your mind for daydreams, love, or speculation. Fate was false - most things in life were completely arbitrary. That was the way you’d trained yourself to think. Not because you enjoyed it, only because it made it easier to survive.

This way of thinking is a result of your lifetime with the Corps. The award of a Captain’s position was the fruit of your labor, along with being revered for your ability to strategize. Many of the most important and most successful missions in recent years had been planned by you. But, the bubbling tension and division within the walls have thrown you for a loop. You’ve attempted to collaborate with Levi in recent weeks to try to pin down any conflict - anything you could do to calm the storm and keep your comrades safe would be worth it.

Instead of being able to act on whatever plans you’d developed, you’d been assigned to the most bizarre mission you’d ever taken part in: babysitting some man in his late twenties, all the way out in a forest filled with towering redwood trees. This mystery man was apparently not to be trusted, he was Eren’s half-brother from Marley and the holder of the beast titan. He’d done tremendous damage to the Corps in the past. His intentions and motives now remained mysterious, but one thing was for sure: his loyalties lied with Eren, not with the Scouts.

You were disappointed and terrified all together. Being so far away from the action left both you and your comrades vulnerable. But, Levi insisted you needed to confine this man far away from society. And although you were a captain, whatever Levi says usually goes.

The forest wasn’t so bad upon your arrival. Damp pine needles that covered the ground coated the air in a sweet aroma. The blanket of shade given off by the trees was temperate in the summer heat. The tents you’d been provided with were sturdy, insulated, and a dark shade of green that complimented the woodland setting. Above all, you were accompanied by 30 trained soldiers and a shipment of high-quality Marleyan wine.

The entirety of your first day in the forest was spent unpacking and setting up your living quarters. Stars now peak through the canopy of branches above, and a cold breeze ruffles the millions of leaves surrounding the camp. The air was chilly despite the heat that blazed earlier in the day.

The cot you’d assembled in your tent is comfortable enough, but the grey sheets you’d just stretched over the mattress still smell stale. You conjure up the idea of going for a walk while your blankets air out. The musty scent sure wasn’t going to lull you to sleep.

Your timid feet crunch on the ground through the forest for a while, away from the camp. The mist of your breath is tangible in front of your face - the light jacket you’d brought wasn’t going to be enough to keep your goosebumps at bay. It’s much more intimidating out here at night than you’d expected. Darkness brought mystery to the gaps between each tree. And the sheer amount of trees beyond the campsite is dizzying, their height is even more difficult to process. They add a sense of company to your walk, although you can’t tell if they are peaceful observers or prying sets of eyes.

It’s surprisingly quiet out here, no animal or human alike made noise at this hour. The silence leads you to pick up on the echo of a fire crackling somewhere. You’re suddenly a bit excited - you’d figured everyone would have gone to sleep by now.

You spot a comforting orange glow coming from the other side of the distant campsite, offset from the main groups of tents. Maybe someone else’s sheets needed time to breathe too.

The light grows brighter as you trek towards it. It leads you to a humble tent and a fire pit with two rusted metal chairs placed on either side of it. In one of the chairs sits a blonde man in a white shirt, with his back turned to you. He has his nose in a poorly bound book - its stitching is frayed and the pages look wilted, as if they’d been dropped in water before. A cigarette smolders in his free hand.

Your feet crunch into the ground a little harder as you approach in an attempt to avoid startling him. The man looks up to you once you’re finally facing each other. His face is foreign to you. Round glasses on his nose reflect a golden luster from the fire in front of him, blurring your view of his grey eyes slightly. Blonde waves are parted down the middle of his head, tousled a bit too perfectly. He has a well groomed beard that compliments his structured face and strong biceps that peak through his shirt sleeves.

He’s handsome, classy, alluring. Nothing like the usual around here.

“Hi, I’m Captain Reader,” you say with a small smile.

“Reader, huh?” he says, folding his book closed, “I think I’ve heard that name somehow…”

“Oh, possibly. I’m a long time captain. I do a lot of strategic work as well, and it's not exclusive to the Scouts. So my name tends to get around.”

“My name is Zeke,” he replies, returning the smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Zeke… did that sound familiar? You couldn’t decide.

You take a seat in the other chair across from the fire, warming your hands once you get comfortable. The embers lit in front of you are only a sad little bundle of sticks, clearly in need of more fuel. Zeke rolls his shoulders back as his eyes focus in on your frame. His attention is definitely not on the book anymore. His body language almost tells you he likes what he sees - he’s open, relaxed, observant. The cigarette has gone a bit limp in between his fingers.

You’re guilty of curiosity too, as your eyes prod his figure. There must be something in the air.

“What’s that book about?” you question, “it looks… well loved.”

He chuckles. “It's a little fantasy piece, actually. Not something I’d usually find myself reading, but I’ve read it a hundred times now. It’s about a maiden who buys her way to heaven, and a prince who rescues her from the consequences.”

“Interesting…” you say, “how does someone buy their way to heaven?”

“With something far more valuable than money,” he explains. You wonder if the sultry undertone he added was all part of your imagination. It was a little grumbly, suggestive.

“And what would that be?”

“Not sure, still trying to figure that one out,” he remarks, bringing the cigarette up to his lips. Light from the fire gets trapped in the smoke and travels up through the dark air as he exhales.

“You’re gonna ruin your lungs if you keep doing that, Zeke,” you joke.

He chuckles again, “So she’s pretty and caring. Guess I’ve lucked out.”

You feel a little heat rush to your cheeks. This innocent, flattered, puppy-love feeling: you hadn’t felt this way in years. You really wish you could just brush it off, it wasn’t something you were used to. Instead, you let your mind wander for only a second - it would be a nice pastime to have a summer fling with someone in this forest. You were more than tempted. It would get your mind off of the impending doom you tended to feel in chaotic times like this. You could live a bit for once.

And the beautiful man in front of you could be the perfect candidate.

“Hmm, it’s convenient that you think so,” you reply, crossing your legs.

“Convenient? For you, or for me?” he questions. “Looking to get something out of your time in this forest, Captain?”

You pause. He’s bold. “Depends… what about you?”

Zeke lifts the book up slightly in his hand and flips it over to examine its withered back cover, “Not sure, maybe I’ll finally experience whatever this book is talking about. Something so desirable I could cheat my way into heaven with it.”

No. His tone wasn’t your imagination.

“I have a feeling you’ll end up being the prince that has to deal with someone else’s fuck-ups instead,” you laugh.

His lips curl back into a smile as he starts to laugh with you. “Doesn’t sound out of character,” he replies.

His pretty blonde hair ruffles a bit as the wind picks up. And shit - is that wind bitter. The miniscule fire wasn’t doing it’s best to warm you. You notice your limbs are shaking, too much for your jacket and hands to conceal. Zeke surely notices too, he’s been eyeing you this whole time after all.

“Here,” Zeke offers, pulling a thick corduroy coat off of the back of his chair.

“No, no. You should wear that. I’m alright,” you protest, rubbing your hands over your arms vigorously to try to stop your shuddering.

Zeke gets up from his seat anyway and crosses the gap between the two of you. You look up to him once he’s standing over you, embarrassed. Two big hands drape the hefty fabric over your shivering shoulders. You immediately feel warmer as your body heat gets trapped underneath it.

“Thanks,” you mutter, pulling on the jacket to adjust it on your arms.

The wind still howls as Zeke goes back to his metal chair. He sits down casually, taking another drag of his cigarette as his eyes move back to you, lingering on you gently -- like he feels satisfied or nostalgic. Your features looked so beautiful in the faint orange light of the fire, as the only focal point in his vision while darkness clouded everything behind you. He couldn’t help but stare.

“I do mean it,” he says as he exhales, “that you’re pretty.”

His words hang there for a moment. They wait for you on a hook, persuading you to take his bait. So he could reel you in.

“Trying to flatter your superiors huh? Well that’s one way to get what you want,” you retort.

“Who says you’re my superior, Captain Reader?” he jokes.

You laugh at him.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” you begin, “but I’ve never seen you around before. Are you from another branch of the military?”

Zeke pauses, letting out a huff of air.

“You know, with a reputation like yours, one would think you’d know your enemies a little better.”

Your face drops from a smile that rested high on your cheeks to a shocked, open-mouthed glare. You’re frozen. Why didn’t you assume…

“You’re the other Jaeger…” you trail off.

Zeke brings the cigarette back to his mouth and flips his book back open in response.

You stare down into the fire, unsure of what to do or say next. You were mortified. Maybe saying nothing was the answer - you’d already dug yourself into a hole by flirting with your prisoner. And damn, did Zeke deliberately let you. He knew who you were. He wanted you to feel this way. He led you on.

Who was supposed to deal with your fuck-up now?

You stand up, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“Goodnight, Zeke,” you say quietly, dropping his coat onto the chair.

You move quickly through the dark air that nips at your ears, back to the safety of your tent.

***

“Don’t go off and be an idiot,” Levi warns.

You assure him you wouldn’t, pouring a big glass of wine for yourself with a smile spread across your face.

Levi had been more than reluctant to let your soldiers bring this wine, but you’d done some convincing. This forest had been boring for the past few days. Laughing over a few drinks would be a sure way to liven up the crowd. You were just excited to finally get a taste of this Marleyan wine that everyone had been raving about.

You hadn’t seen Zeke since that night three days ago. Unfortunately, you couldn’t get him off of your mind. Partially because you were horribly embarrassed. And angry. You couldn’t believe you’d walked into his trap like that, practically offering yourself to him as a subject to humiliate. You were sure he’d enjoyed every bit of it.

And the other reason you couldn’t get him off of your mind…

He was a bit gorgeous. And you loved the way he talked to you, how it made you feel. Even though your time with him was so short, you secretly wanted more. You cursed yourself for thinking about him like that after all the harm he’d done to the Scouts. All of it made you sick - it was wrong, it made you feel like you had dirt on your hands.

But what if you tried to talk with him again? Just to sort your feelings out. Then you could be free to forget about him. This time, you would control yourself. You knew who he was now, and what it meant to be speaking with him. You were allowed to speak with him, you just had to be careful if you were going to proceed. None of you could trust him.

But the curiosity was still killing you.

You swirl the wine around in your glass as you dig the toe of your leather boot into the soft ground - trying to decide.

Anxious feet move below you before your mind is ready for them to, back toward Zeke’s tent.

It was nearly sundown, and beautiful purple rays beam through the forest, shattered from full display by hundreds of tree branches. The air was warm tonight, so there would be no need for Zeke's jacket again.

Once you see his camp, you notice he’s back in the same chair again. He’s still reading that torn-up book, this time with a pencil in his hand. He scratches little notes onto the pages here and there.

He looks up once he hears the familiar sound of your boots. The eyes behind his circular lenses scan you, lingering on the glass in your hand. You wonder if you should have brought him one.

“Hi, Zeke,” you say softly, making your way to the chair across the empty fire pit.

“Captain, thought I’d never see you again,” he says, a false excitement stuck in his voice.

You keep swirling your wine around in its glass, waiting for it to air out so you could take your first sip. It smelled divine, so fruity and fresh, in contrast with the earthy smells that the forest gave off.

Zeke looks up to you over the top rims of his glasses, unimpressed. You raise your glass to your lips, almost ready to tilt it back and let the chilled, burgundy wine rush into your mouth.

“That’s sluggish if you,” he remarks.

You pause, letting the cool glass linger on your bottom lip.

“What?” you bark, pulling the glass from your mouth.

He looks back down at his book, “No Marleyan strategist - or any good strategist for that matter - would drink in front of their adversaries. It makes you look sluggish.”

You just gape at him. He’s probably having fun while trying to irritate you. Two could play.

You put your arm out in front of you and flip the glass over, pouring the wine onto the wet dirt below. It splashes up onto your boots as it streams from your cup and runs down to spill into the fire pit.

“Happy?” you grumble, tossing the glass into the dirt. “Probably shitty wine anyway, considering you two come from the same place.”

He snickers, “Not quite. I was hoping you’d just hand the glass over.”

You regretted trying to talk to him now.

“Fine,” you sigh, getting up from your spot and turning back toward your tent. “Keep scribbling in your stupid book.”

“Actually, I was writing the two of us into the story.”

You’re sure he’s just pushing your buttons further - trying to lay another trap for you and capture you in another awkward moment of infatuation. But his words cause you to pause in your steps for a second.

“And what are we doing?” you question.

“We just cheated our way into heaven.”

“Creep,” you grumble before continuing to walk.

***

You hadn’t gone near that wine since. You had a grudge against it now, it completely ruined the mood last time you saw Zeke. But it had sure lightened the mood for everyone else, probably a little too much. Everyone except for Levi, of course. It was nearly impossible to change his mood.

In the meantime, you were still victim to unwarranted thoughts of Zeke in your head. This almost felt like a schoolgirl crush, how he bullied you a bit. This was more like torment, actually, considering you were trying to get him out of your head. But it didn’t change the fact that you liked what you saw.

Lately he was always reading that book and jotting down notes in it. And he rarely left his little corner of the campsite except for when he went on walks sometimes. You’d admire him from afar, careful never to let your eyes meet with his.

You’d take the images of him now burned into your brain back to bed with you, and stare up to the dark tent ceiling above. You’d fantasize about what it would have been like to meet Zeke in another life. One where the two of you weren’t enemies trapped on two different sides of a war. Where you didn’t feel guilt for your interest in someone who had jeopardized you and your comrades. Where the two of you were free to know one another.

You couldn’t pinpoint what kept driving this involuntary curiosity you felt towards him. It was tiring, honestly. But you wanted his company. Maybe you just wanted company in general -- it's not like you got along with him or anything.

Should you fix that? Did you even want to fix that? Would a peace offering be doing too much?

He did mention he wanted your glass of wine…

So one night, you cave. And you march over to the wooden cart that held dozens of cases of wine, an empty glass for Zeke in hand. You’re shocked to see only four measly bottles remain, laying on their sides in the only wooden case left. You could have sworn the shipment was full only a few days ago, but this camp had been set up for weeks now. Everyone here must be just as bored as you were, and several times more thirsty.

You pry open a cork and pour a few inches of wine into the glass, stopping to waft the crisp aroma into your nose. The air tonight was crisp too, it was cooler than it had been in recent days. You were adamant about remembering a jacket this time. The journey to Zeke’s tent feels long under the moonless sky. Hesitancy, followed by regret, pools into your brain as the dim light from his campfire comes into view.

Grow some balls, you’re convincing yourself that all of this means more than it really does. You’re bringing him a glass of wine for God’s sake.

There’s still time to turn around though… you could just finish the glass on your own. Out of range for him to bully you for it.

But he’s sitting there so prettily. He has his boots up on the rocks surrounding the fire pit, careful not to burn their soles in the flames. His blonde locks are pushed back slightly, giving you more room to look at his smooth face. And he’s certainly not busy, just reading his old book. Maybe he still had some compliments left for you despite all the bickering you two had done. Maybe he-

“Haven’t tried any of that ‘shitty’ wine yet, have you?” he questions. You hadn’t even noticed how close you are to him now. You’d gotten lost in him on the way.

“No…” you grumble, “it's for you. A peace offering.”

You stick your hand out. He receives the glass, lifting it up to examine it before taking a big drink.

“Ah,” he breathes, clearly satisfied. “It’s disgusting, Captain. Really.”

You stifle a laugh. “Everyone else seems to think so too. It’s all nearly gone.”

“Hmm,” he says, taking another sip, “None for you, I guess. Might as well just let it run out.”

“I think I will,” you mock, turning away from him to go sit in your chair,

The sizable fire Zeke had put together tonight was quick to thaw the chills on your arms. You really didn’t need your jacket after all, and opted to lay it over the back of your chair. The two of you sit there in silence for a while, taking in each other’s presence, observing the dying light in the forest.

Zeke looks at you eventually. Your eyes instinctually dart away.

“What made you want to come see me again?” Zeke asks.

You frantically search for an answer. You need to be careful.

“Boredom,” you reply flatly.

“You think so?” His attitude is back to how it was the first night you’d met. He’s engaged, focused, yet comes off so casual laying back up against his seat like that. He enjoys toying with you, like a cat to its prey.

Be careful.

“Don’t like my answer or something?”

That wasn’t exactly careful.

“No. You’re just not being honest.” He breathes that last word out like he needs to get a rise out of you, then he nonchalantly takes another drink while he waits for you to respond. Your mouth is open the slightest bit; you’re nervous, angry. He’s in your head now. He was reading you like that overused book of his.

“Then what do you want to hear from me?” you question. There’s thankfully still a false calmness in your voice.

“Just the truth. It’s not that complicated.”

You were sweating in front of this fire now. What was the truth? That you were interested in him? That you wanted nothing to do with him?

Be honest.

“I guess I just like your company,” you admit. Your eyes fall to the rocks lining the fire pit.

***

The discussion became pleasant after that, surprisingly. You guess you just needed to own up to how you felt. Your admittance caused some of the anger and tension tugging between the two of you to subside. The conversation was calm, collected, bouncing around from subject to subject: from the book, to life in Marley, to life in Paradis, to your occupation, and back to the book. Most of it was uneventful, but you liked that. It made it easy to pretend you were talking to him on the first night again, before you found out who he really was.

You left his camp with a giddy smile on your face. You’re on your way back to your tent now, after saying your goodbyes to Zeke. It was late, and you needed to be up early to have an important conversation with Levi. And god forbid he found out about any of this business between you and Zeke. Even though nothing was serious, it would come off unprofessional. And rightfully so.

You’re so lost in thought by the time you’re opening your tent door that you didn’t realize your arms were cold. The jacket you brought was probably still hanging off the chair at Zekes fire pit. It would look suspicious if you left it there and one of the other soldiers happened to see it.

You go back quietly, careful not to let anyone hear your footsteps. A couple of scattered thoughts weave their way into your head on your journey - what if this was another ploy of his? An attempt to get you back where he wants you, this time late at night. But how could it be? You were the one who left your jacket there. If anything, this was your own attempt to lead yourself back to him. Did you want him that badly… deep down?

When you reach your chair, you find it to be empty. You check around its sides, back, and underside - no jacket in sight. Out of the corner of your eye, a sliver of light shows from under the tarp serving as Zeke’s tent door. He’d probably noticed it and taken it inside with him after you’d gone home.

Halfheartedly, you meander to the tent door. You tap on it once the limited glimmer of light from inside touches the toes of your boots.

“Zeke? Do you have my jacket?” you whisper, still flicking the tarp to get his attention.

No answer.

Cold air stings your exposed skin as a draft swoops down through the camp. You also were wary of any observers that happened to be out this late at night. There was no telling what it looked like you might be doing outside his tent at the moment. The more uncomfortable you became out here, the more impatient you got.

“Zeke!” you hiss, whipping your head around your shoulder to double check your surroundings.

Still nothing but silence on the other side. Had he fallen asleep already?

The urge to pull back the tent door hits you. It would only take a moment to retrieve the jacket, then you’d be on your way.

Once again, making this a bigger deal than it really is.

But that didn’t matter. It felt like a big deal. That’s what every situation that involved him felt like. A big, complicated, multidimensional deal.

Be careful.

That wasn’t the answer either. Being careful was a good tactic when it came to strategizing your next moves in war. It was sometimes rendered useless when dealing with love. This was out of your control. And that was ok. That was what compelled you toward him - the mystery, the rush.

Let go.

You grip the tarp, it crinkles under your stiff fingers as you pull it back. A rush of warm air hits you, along with the light of a few oil lamps. And Zeke… shirtless. Sitting on his unmade bed with your jacket in hand.

The sight of his sculpted body in front of you sets a nervous, unprepared spark off in you, causing you to shut the door fast and stumble inside. And all at once, there you were - back in Zeke’s grasp. You accepted that wanted to be there.

“My jacket... ” you say, staring hard at the fabric in his hands, trying to avoid eye contact with his bare chest.

He stands up in silence and comes to your side, raising the jacket up once he gets real close to you. Oh no, he’s draping it over your shoulders again, slowly this time around, taking his time to stare into your puppy dog eyes. Dammit - the hot cheeks, the butterflies, the embarrassment. All of it was back now, in an instant he had you feeling like puddy in his hands. The two of you stare at each other as his hands adjust the jacket around you, stopping to play with one of the buttons on the front.

“You’re forgetful,” he mumbles, still focused on the button on your chest. His tone is sweet and quiet, a small smile appears out of one corner of his mouth.

You weren’t breathing, or thinking. Just looking down innocently at the hand that was so close to you.

“I’m not… normally,” you say quietly.

Zeke’s hands move to grip each side of the front of your jacket gently. His eyes move up from the hands placed on your jacket, and back to you. To your lips. You part them at the realization, swallowing the lump that suddenly appeared in your throat.

He shifts further in towards you, tugging on your jacket the slightest bit.

One cohesive thought rises up in the blankness of your brain. You want to kiss him.

The urge was mutual. Your lashes flutter against your cheeks a few times before you shut them, turning your head slightly to the right. Zeke follows your lead. You feel warm fingertips touch your chin and guide you to his soft pair of lips. His other hand abandons your jacket and comes down to meet your waist, slowly sliding to the small of your back. You melt into his touch, pulling yourself in closer. Chills go down your neck at the sensation of being in his arms, at his mercy. It feels so right, so warm and gentle. You want to keep going - so bad. You want him to hold you, touch you, kiss you harder.

But only for a moment.

You pull away once the guilt hits your core, gently touching your fingers to your lips.

Zeke stares at you, his eyes a bit wider than normal. His arms have gone limp at his sides without having you to occupy them any longer. You can tell there’s something on the tip of his tongue, something that might save the situation and bring your lips back to his. You didn’t want to hear it.

“It’s wrong. This is all wrong,” you say, backing up into the tent door behind you.

You think of the war. You think of your duties. You think of who Zeke really is. Any fluttering in your stomach was gone now, instead it was filled by tinges of regret.

“You’re right. It is,” he responds. He walks back over to his bed and sits on the quilt ruffled at its end. He runs a hand through his hair as he turns his head away from you. “I figured you’d be smart enough not to kiss back.”

You were almost too shocked to notice how much his words burned. Your mouth hangs open as your eyes squint at him a bit. Emotion courses through you as your mind crashes down from the high you were just on. You needed out of this tent.

You grip the tarp resting against your back and fling it open. You felt lost, speed walking away from Zeke’s tent and toward the center of camp. The night concealed the confusion on your face, but only for a minute. A fire glows near your tent, lighting up your surroundings - its Levi. You try your best to avoid him, changing your course to avoid his eyes.

“What are you doing awake, Reader,” Levi questions dully.

You don’t let out any response other than stopping in your tracks.

“Is everything... alright?”

“I just,” you search for anything appropriate, any excuse for your apparent distress, “don’t like being in this forest.”

You both go quiet for a moment, listening to the snapping of thin branches in the fire.

Levi breaks the silence, “That’s actually what I was going to mention to you tomorrow. The MP’s need you for something. I was going to give you the choice to go back, or stay here.”

Going back. Maybe that was the right answer you’d tried so hard to find.

***

You shove all of your belongings into your suitcase early the next morning. It didn’t take you long to decide you needed to abandon this mission. Nothing between you and Zeke would ever work out, and your feelings for him were only a burden to everyone here, and yourself.

You lug your bags to a horse and cart that had been set up for you, tossing them over the cart’s walls and into the back.

Climbing up into the front seat, you notice a gift waiting for you - that overused book. Zeke must have finally figured out how to fake his way into heaven.

You decided to read some of it on the way back.

Zeke sure had written his own story inside of it. All of the notes he’d scribbled in the margins were in another language, presumably from Marley - a secret story you’d never get to understand. Only for him to know.

***

You heard news of what happened in the forest a few days after you arrived home. You couldn’t process it at first, instead you just sat in disbelief and denial. Then the ‘what ifs’ set in. What if you had stayed? Maybe you could have stopped Zeke from doing all the damage he decided to cause. The tear-filled anger set in after that.

There was only one chapter of his book left now. You felt disgusted looking at it, a reminder of everything you’d felt for him. You needed to sit yourself down and get through it so you could finally throw it away - and finally forget about him forever.

You come to the final page. It was intended to be blank, a sort of protectant between the ink on the last page and the back cover. But instead, there’s a penciled in note. From Zeke.

His writing in your language was messy and shaky. You assumed he could read in your language, but may not be practiced in writing in it. This was probably the first message he’d ever written in it. All for you.

—

Dear Captain Reader,

I tend to avoid feeling guilty for much. I probably won’t feel guilty for everything I’m about to do to your soldiers in this forest.

I did feel guilty, however, when I saw your beautiful face that night you found me alone in the forest. And then I realized you were caring, brilliant, and a strategist that was far smarter than I was.

Well, this was my attempt at strategizing.

Pulling you in and then pushing you away. I hoped the guilt and confusion would make you leave. Make you think you were unfit for the assignment, too distracted by me. Heartbroken, even. Anything to get you out of here.

Now, I’m not too sure there will be anyone to rescue you. I won’t be able to again. Take care of yourself. Stay sharp.

I hope you enjoyed the book. I was really never a fan of the ending.

Zeke

—

Author's Note:

Dear anon: You gave me a lottt of free rein with this one, so I hope it was ok ●﹏● (and not too angsty and complicated lol. You said they kinda hate each other but theres chemistry and I just ran with it. Oopsies.) This was one of my favorite fics to write, ever, I think! I had a lot of fun with the dialogue especially. Thanks so much for the request, and thanks to everyone else for reading! Lots of love - Shep :)

[hlizr50]

You Belong with Me

Azriel and his brothers are high-power executives, and while the Valkyrie ladies always attend the fancy dinners and events, Gwyn is NOT wealthy and is the only one who isn't attached to someone who is. When Gwyn volunteers to take Azriel to the cabin early to prep for their big family/friends vacation, they have a conversation about how she might have to cut back. Add in banter and hours of Gwyn unabashedly belting Taylor Swift, and Az realizes that not having her around is just not an option.

Guys... I've never cared for AU, never been big into song lyrics. But my soul just needed this to be a thing. So here it is.

Read on AO3

“You sure this thing is gonna get us there?” Azriel’s smug grin only earned an eyeroll from the redhead on the other side of the car, opening the driver’s side door.

“Just put your shit in the trunk and get in the car,” she huffed across the weathered blue of the roof. He chuckled, slinging his suitcase into the trunk as the door slammed – maybe with a little extra force. He loved poking at her, and he knew she would dish it right back. After closing the trunk he returned to the open door on the passenger’s side and lowered himself into the well-worn leather seat. “You know not all of us are fortunate enough to be high-level executives at multi-million dollar companies. But rest assured that this historical document restoration expert and her 16-year-old Toyota with 154000 miles are going to get you to the cabin safe and sound. Because you insisted on getting there a day early to make sure everything is secure.” Gwyn deepened her voice, giving him her best Azriel impersonation. And maybe he was being a bit… overzealous. But he had always been the most keenly aware, the most protective. He may have been CFO, but he was also deeply involved in security – both from the standpoint of the organization and of it’s employees. And his family.

He simply smirked, “If you say so.”

“You’re insufferable,” she groaned, turning the key. The car rumbled to life, and Azriel had to admit that he was impressed with how quiet it still seemed to run. He was sure Gwyn was a stickler about maintenance. “Just for that, you are sentenced to three hours of me serenading you with the best songs Taylor Swift has to offer.”

“Oh, Gods, anything but Taylor Swift.” Azriel grimaced, hiding the secret joy he rarely let her see. He loved it when she sang. Her voice was lovely, of course, but what hit him harder was how she seemed to radiate joy when she did it.

Gwyneth Berdara wasn’t quiet and shy like he tended to be – not by a long shot. She was irreverent and blunt and bold. But he could see the shadows that hid just behind the shimmer in her eyes – he could tell there were demons there. Her sister had been murdered four years before, in the apartment they both had shared, and it had wounded her deeply. Nesta had mentioned that there was more to the story, but that it was only Gwyn’s to tell. So, yes, she definitely had darkness that followed her, but she kept it well hidden. He’d learned, as they had become friends, that she often grew anxious in large crowds or chaotic environments. She didn’t feel safe, and that had always bothered him. Regardless of how many people were around or how crazy it was, her friends were there with her. He was there. Whatever it was that kept her so on edge, he imagined that the lingering sadness in that deep ocean gaze and the faraway wistful look that sometimes passed over her features were a part of it.

But when she sang she was a beacon of light, with the brightest smile and rosy, freckle-flecked cheeks.

“Don’t you dare disrespect the goddess T. Swift,” she glowered, and as they pulled onto the highway he lost himself in the lilting notes of her car concert.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d been driving – at least seven works of the goddess T. Swift – when he reached for the volume knob on the console and turned it down.

“Are you coming to the charity gala in a couple weeks?” Azriel looked over at her, noting the light stain of pink gracing her cheeks. She kept her eyes on the road.

“Oh… No.” Gwyn glanced over at him and gave a tight smile, causing him to purse his lips.

“Why not?”

“Az,” she chided, throwing him a stern look. “It’s too expensive. I can’t afford a seat and a dress. Hell, I probably can’t even afford one or the other.” He stayed silent, mulling over the understanding that money wasn’t something he ever had to worry about, and how he could make that not a problem for her. “Besides, you know how I am with crowds like that. I’d probably just have an attack and ruin everyone’s night.” She tried to laugh it off, and that troubled Azriel even more. Because she had seemed disappointed just then when she said she wasn’t going.

“Do you want to go, Gwyn?” He prodded. I want you to go. She sighed, adjusting herself in her seat to straighten her back.

“It doesn’t matter. Like I said, it’s really not possible for me.” She shrugged, as if that was it.

But that wasn’t it. Everyone was going to be there. She should be there, too. She should be there, with him.

“You know we would help –“

“I know, Az. But I’m not asking you, or Rhys. I’m not asking anyone. I can’t keep depending on everyone else just to go to events and dinners and whatever else.” She sucked in a breath. “I just… I don’t live the same life that the rest of you do. And there’s nothing wrong with that. It’s just how it is.”

“Gwyn, you know nobody cares about that.” Azriel frowned. “I understand that my family is… fortunate. Privileged. But you and Nesta and Emerie are a part of us.”

“It’s not the same, Azriel.” Azriel. The full name. This was more serious than he realized. “Nesta is with Cassian and Emerie is with Mor. It makes sense that maybe they’re taken care of. I’m just… a friend. A friend who is poor.” He opened his mouth to argue but she beat him to it. “And it’s not just about covering food… you go to places with dress codes and too many forks for dinner, and with the company’s increasing success the three of you are only growing more popular and more press-worthy. Especially you.”

“Me?” Azriel swallowed, brows furrowed. “Why especially me?”

Gwyn cast him a pointed look, eyes dark and serious. “You’re the last single brother, Az. You are eligible bachelor number one. All the single ladies in the metropolitan area, if not further out, will be pining for you. If they’re not already.”

Eligible bachelor number one. He rolled his eyes. “I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”

“Oh Az. Sweet, precious, innocent Az. Have you seen yourself? You’re gorgeous. You’re wealthy, successful, and absolutely beautiful.” Azriel raised a brow and gave her a sideways glance, but she was so stubbornly keeping her eyes trained ahead. It was responsible, of course. She was driving. But not even a peek meant that she was intentionally avoiding looking over at him. The corners of his mouth turned downward, not quite understanding how this conversation had gone the way it had.

“Is that so? Please, tell me more,” he snickered. If there was anything that he knew, it was how to draw her back with teasing. She wouldn’t back down from a challenge, and Gwyneth Berdara was ruthless when it came to having the last word. The corner of her mouth twitched, and he knew she was doing her best not to smile.

“I hate you so much,” she huffed.

“Now, I don’t think that’s even remotely true.” He reached out to pinch the apple of her cheek, but she slapped his hand away, sending a glower that only made him laugh.

“The single ladies can have you. Maybe you’ll find someone else to annoy.”

“Aw, Gwynnie. You know nobody could ever replace you.” And even though it was in jest, it was also… true. “And what would you do without me?”

“Get some peace and quiet for once?” And when the redhead turned with that scrunched freckled nose and her tongue stuck out at him Azriel was relieved to have the playful girl – his best friend – wearing a smile again. “Now shut it or sing along, you have not been punished with nearly enough of our lady Taylor Swift.”

And so the ride continued, but Azriel chewed on his lower lip, contemplating everything Gwyn had said. She was fiercely independent, so he could understand how she might not want to accept what she might perceive as charity, or worse, pity. But the idea of her just not being there… it made something inside of him feel hollow. He reached out and turned down the volume again.

“Why wouldn’t you say anything? About where we’re going to dinner? Or about not being comfortable at big events?” He didn’t even try to hide that he was staring at her, trying to pinpoint any reaction she may have. Once again pink stained her cheeks.

“Az, it’s not like you guys are going to stop going to fancy restaurants so you can come to Wendy’s with me. I don’t want to take away from anyone’s fun.” Fucking ridiculous.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe we would have less fun without you there?” Azriel tried to keep his tone light, but his temper was flaring. He wasn’t sure why, but it bothered him that she would think she could just… not be there and they would all just go on like it didn’t matter.

“Of course I did,” Gwyn shrugged nonchalantly and threw him a wink. “I know it will be hard but I’m sure you’ll manage somehow. Besides, I don’t plan on just disappearing. I just… need to be more thoughtful about what I’m doing. I’ll just be around… less.” She turned the volume back up and jumped straight into the lyrics, not giving him the opportunity to tell her how preposterous she sounded.

Azriel leaned back in his seat, losing himself in thought with Gwyn’s lovely voice still soothing him in the background. He didn’t know how long he’d been brooding when the volume increased dramatically, blaring through the interior. Looking over he found her tapping on the steering wheel and swaying to the beat of her majesty Taylor Swift. Her eyes were shining, her smile was brilliant, and she sang like she didn’t have a care in the world.

You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset

She’s going off about something that you said

‘Cause she doesn’t get your humor like I do

I’m in my room, it’s a typical Tuesday night

I’m listening to the kind of music she doesn’t like

And she’ll never know your story like I do

But she wears short skirts, I wear t-shirts

She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers

Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you,

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

You belong with me

Walkin’ the streets with you and your worn-out jeans

I can’t help thinking this is how it ought to be

Laughing on a park bench, thinking to myself

Hey, isn’t this easy?

And you’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town

I haven’t seen it in awhile since she brought you down

You say you’re fine, I know you better than that

Hey, what you doing with a girl like that?

She wears high heels, I wear sneakers

She’s cheer captain and I’m on the bleachers

Dreaming ‘bout the day when you wake up and find

That what you’re looking for has been here the whole time

If you could see that I’m the one who understands you,

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your back door

All this time how could you not know, baby?

You belong with me

You belong with me

Azriel felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he was seeing Gwyn for the first time. Unbridled joy, laughter when she turned to him when she was singing, dancing in the driver’s seat like a passenger’s worst nightmare.

And he couldn’t help but listen to the words, too. Surely that part was coincidence, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was speaking to him… something was speaking to him.

He grinned as she shimmied her shoulders and rocked her head from side to side, wisps of copper flying away from her ponytail.

Oh, I remember you drivin’ to my house in the middle of the night

I’m the one who makes you laugh even though you’re ‘bout to cry

I know your favorite songs and you tell me ‘bout your dreams

Think I know where you belong, think I know it’s with me

Can’t you see that I’m the one that understands you

Been here all along, so why can’t you see

You belong with me

Standing by and waiting at your back door

All this time, how could you not know baby?

You belong with me

You belong with me

You belong with me

Have you ever thought just maybe

You belong with me

You belong with me

“Gosh I think I went too hard on that one. I’m out of breath!” she laughed, and she glanced toward Azriel in the passenger seat. “Have you had enough yet, Az?”

“Never,” he murmured, and her breath caught. She turned her focus back to the road, but kept stealing looks back at him. She seemed unsure of how to respond, but he was also lost in his own head.

He didn’t want to be the eligible bachelor. He didn’t want to annoy anyone else. He knew that he had cared for Gwyn as more than a friend for a long time – Nesta and Cassian had always encouraged him to do something about it. Nesta in particular had assured him that Gwyn felt the same way. But no matter how much Azriel had flirted she never seemed to acknowledge it, never seemed inclined to do something about it. They bantered and challenged and laughed, but never more.

But Nesta continued to be insistent. She told Azriel that there were some things about Gwyn that might keep her from acting upon her affection for him, and maybe he should make the first move. He never had, of course, for fear of rejection and fear of ruining the relationship that they had.

But now suddenly he was looking at a future where she wasn’t always there. He didn’t like the thought of that. He would go to Wendy’s for dinner instead of whatever black-tie restaurant had their reservation. But, furthermore, he would take care of her, like Cassian took care of Nesta. He wouldn’t go to events without her, and he would make sure that she was comfortable and safe while she was there. Because he would keep her close. He would always keep her close.

By the time Gwyn was pulling the car onto the driveway leading to the cabin she was only singing quietly to herself and letting him sit in his own silent thought. And as soon as she parked and turned off the car he knew exactly what he needed to do.

Without a word he ripped off the seatbelt and burst out of the car, slamming the door behind him. He was already crossing across the front when Gwyn popped out.

“What the hell, Az? The car is 16 years old you can’t just slam doors like that –“

Azriel grabbed the back of her neck and crushed his lips to hers. Gods, they were perfect – warm and lush. She inhaled shakily against his mouth and he tugged at her bottom lip with his teeth. He swept his lips across hers once again before pulling away only slightly, resting his forehead against her own. They were both breathing hard, and her expression nearly sent him to his knees. Gwyn’s teal eyes were wide, shining with surprise and confusion. Her lips were swollen and her freckled cheeks stained crimson. Azriel wasn’t going to give himself enough time to question this, though.

“You’re coming to the gala,” he insisted, gaze flitting wildly between her lips and her eyes before drowning in the ocean pools. “I’m buying your ticket. On our way home after this weekend we’ll go shopping for a dress. And no matter what you wear you will be the most exquisite thing there.”

Gwyn looked up at him, chest still heaving and eyes still wide, and nodded.

“And you’re coming to every dinner and event and anything else after that. Because, no matter what you might think, I don’t want to be there if you’re not there.”

“Az –“

“And when you’re there, you won’t think about money or crowds. Because I’ll be there. I’m going to take care of you and make sure you’re safe. Because I don’t just want you to be there with all of us. I want you to be there with me. Okay, Gwyn?” His eyes bore into hers, willing her to understand, to see what was in his heart.

“Okay,” she nodded. Her breaths had quieted, her eyes were warm, and there was a ghost of a smile there. And Azriel dared to hope that Nesta had been right, and all he’d needed was to take the leap.

“Can I kiss you again, Gwyn?” he asked.

“Please,” she giggled at him, smile widening. He leaned in, this time with much more restraint and care, slanting his lips over her soft ones and gently moving against them. When he pulled away his face was plastered with a shit-eating grin, which grew impossibly bigger when he saw her blushing.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” he laughed, still not believing that he had done all that, and that it had… worked?

“I… I’ve wanted you to do that for a long time.” Gwyn sighed and then dragged her bottom lip between her teeth. “So… so just to be clear. You want me… to be…?” Azriel chuckled and ran his hands down her arms and then tangling their fingers together.

“I want to date you. I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t want to aggravate any other single ladies. I don’t want to be an eligible bachelor. I just want you. We can go to fancy dinners or charity events or the finest fast food restaurants in the metropolitan area.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and then kissed her cheek. “Will you?”

“Yes,” she breathed. “Of course, Az.” He bent his head and kissed her again. He couldn’t get enough of it. It was like he was making up for lost time.

“As her holy highness Taylor Swift said, you belong with me,” Azriel grinned devilishly. “I can’t help but be suspicious that you planned that… planned to make me fall for your beautiful voice and how adorable you are.” Gwyn tilted her head back and laughed, nearly a cackle full of amusement and contentment.

“I did not plan it, but I’m not going to complain about how it turned out.”

[theasstour]

𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟕.𝟕𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐟𝐚𝐭𝐩𝐡𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐚

Tuesday, 13 December 2017

Tooley Street was always busy, whether there were a horde of people walking to and from the riverside and underground, or cars driving by at a ridiculous speed. London Bridge station on the other side of the road to where Y/N and the gang sat at Caffé Nero, looked like a small insect in comparison to The Shard that reached like a pillar above the partly cloudy winter sky. The blue painted brick building beside it, The Shipwright Arms pub, was a lively addition to an otherwise very bleak street.

The winter wind by the riverside was horrendous, but Y/N had offered to come with Annalise on her cigarette break, so she had only herself to blame for exposing herself to more of the biting cold than completely necessary. From where the two were sitting, they could just make out Tower Bridge behind them, bare trees rising up along the streets that indicated summer was long gone and winter had arrived.

Y/N had spent a lot of time just sitting outside the last few days. Whether it was on a bench by Regent’s Canal, in the grass at Shoreditch Park, or at a table outside a café with a coffee in hand. She had just been sitting there, staring out at nothing. Thinking. All she had been doing since finding that watch was think.

She had tried to find some kind of logical explanation as to why that watch had the coordinates for her family’s Newport cabin, but there was none. What kind of connection did George have to Newport? To that cabin? Had he just fucked her and left it there because he knew who Y/N’s sister was? And where was George now? She had not seen him since that night in October, was he still around? Or had Y/N just missed him when he had been, and this had all just been a huge coincidence. But Y/N somehow knew, deep down, that this was far from a coincidence and she should not treat it as one.

“You have to come to Monnickendam,” Annalise said, blowing out a puff of white smoke.

Y/N looked away from a man across the street who was arguing passionately with someone on his phone. Shoving the thoughts of the watch that was laid on her desk in her room, out of her head. She had not told anyone about it, this was not something she wanted everyone to know about because she had no idea what it meant. The only person that knew was Harry, and she would like to keep it that way.

“I’ve never been to the Netherlands,” Y/N said.

“Even more of a reason to come.”

Y/N smiled. “Buzzing. I haven’t travelled much in Europe, mostly been to Brazil with my family.”

“When you come to Monnickendam, we have to take the train to, like, Germany or France. Andorra is also so beautiful, I think you’re gonna love it.”

“Make a roadtrip out of it.”

“Exactly.”

Y/N’s smile grew. “Had you been to London before you came here for school?”

Annalise brought the cigarette up to her mouth. “Loads of times.”

“Really?”

“Yes, we went here around Easter in 2012 the first time, and I fell in love. Went here four more times, then to an Open Day last year.”

Y/N nodded. “Was Helmond your first choice then? Did you like it the best?”

“No, Battersea was, but I’m happy I ended up at Helmond.” Annalise breathed out white vapour. “Helmond’s prettier.”

Y/N laughed. “The aesthetic is more important than the uni itself, innit? If you can’t take decent Instagram pictures there, what’s the point of spending the next three years at that place?”

Annalise laughed along with Y/N, taking a last drag. “I rarely use Instagram.”

“I used to. I loved to like document my life, to let all my friends and family know what I was doing at all times. But then I found Snapchat, and it’s just better.”

“You know that if you, like, save a picture or video in the Snapchat app, Snapchat owns it?”

Y/N blinked.

“At least what someone at home told me once.”

“Doesn’t Instagram do the same?” Y/N asked.

“Think so,” Annalise said, walking over to the litter and stumping her cigarette out in the ash tray on top of it. “Ground rule: don’t save anything onto social media. Anyone can save and see your pictures.”

“Basically,” Y/N mumbled, looking over at the man she had watched earlier. He was still arguing with someone over the phone.

“Ready to head back inside?” Annalise asked.

“Yeah.” Y/N got up and the two strolled back over to the Caffé Nero their three other mates were sat in. Thian, Hayden, and Chloe were all sat with their laptops in front of them and books in the centre of the table behind their screens. Chloe was talking animatedly as Y/N and Annalise approached, Hayden busy with something on the laptop in front of them while Thian sat with a book in his hands, looking at Chloe as she spoke. Y/N took off her puffer jacket, hanging it off the back of her chair as she sat down, adjusting her black V-neck jumper and loose denim jeans.

“…the problem isn’t that. The problem is the fact that they never clean up after themselves. That’s the problem,” Chloe said, groaning loudly. “And when I ask in the flat groupchat if anyone wanna be social, no one answers. I swear, all of them hate me.”

“Maybe they’re just busy,” Thian suggested.

“They always say that, but I know two of the boys are in Dave’s room playing something on that PlayStation.” Chloe crossed her arms over her chest. “Should I learn how to play FIFA?”

“You don’t have to impress them,” Y/N said, turning her laptop back on to finish the essay for Critical Reading that was due that Friday.

“No, I know. But if I want to hang out with anyone in my flat, I gotta do something. What games do you play in the PlayStation, Thian?”

Thian stared at Chloe for a second, mouth working before he mumbled, “I didn’t bring one to uni.”

“Alright, then what did you play at home?”

“Call of Duty.”

Chloe scrunched up her nose. “Isn’t that a war game?”

“Yeah.”

“Nah, I’m not into that.” Chloe grimaced, looking at something further away. “I’ve never really played PlayStation. One of the blokes I dated in college gamed a lot, but I couldn’t be asked to sit around and just watch.”

“The three in my flat play GTA,” Y/N said. “At least that’s what Nathan wants to play, Harry and Mason just go along.”

Chloe’s face instantly lit up. “Oh, my word, Y/N. You have to make Harry teach me how to play something on the PlayStation.”

There was a slight pang in Y/N’s chest at the sound of his name leaving Chloe’s lips in that way. Y/N opened, then closed her mouth, then opened it again. “I don’t really hang out with them when they play it. I’ve had so much to do these past months.”

“That’s fine, Nathan can keep us company,” Chloe said, leaning back in her seat. “Make Mason come, too. God-“ She grinned, letting her head fall between her shoulder blades. “-Your flatmates are fit.”

“Harry’s fitter than Mason,” Hayden chimed in.

“No, definitely Mason,” Annalise said.

“I can’t choose. Depends on my mood,” Chloe mused.

Thian kept quiet, staring pointedly at his laptop.

“Can you do it? Make them teach me?” Chloe begged, sticking her bottom lip out at Y/N.

Y/N took a deep breath. “I’ll try.”

Chloe grinned.

“They might be busy, too. Might not get to it till after Christmas break.”

Chloe waved her hand. “That’s fine. I just want to hang out with someone from my flat eventually.”

Y/N glanced down at her laptop again, trying to forget the conversation she had just had with the other three. Chloe continued chattering on about something of no significance, Y/N did not care to listen as she wanted to finish her essay before she had to leave for home coming Saturday. Though her coffee was cold now as she took a sip of it, Y/N still appreciated the taste of caffeine. It woke her up, made her more alert and focused.

Ever since she was seven years old, her papai had made her coffee to drink. He always said “coffee is as vital to a Brazilian’s existence as tea is to a Brit’s” and she had drunk it ever since. She loved the taste of it much more than tea, but seeing as tea was much easier to make, she had come to resort to it here in London. Home in Nottingham, there was always a brew in the making or one ready for whoever felt like having a cup, made with a proper coffee machine that Davi had invested proper money in. He had bought it back in 2001, and it worked just as well as it did back then. Y/N, like her papai, loved the coffee from that old coffee maker more than anything else. She could not wait until she was home with her parents so she could drink proper coffee all the time without going to the nearest coffee shop to do so. The instant coffee Nathan often made smelled and tasted rank, Y/N would have no other coffee than her papai’s and a cup made at a coffee shop.

“I’m gonna go buy a muff,” Hayden said, getting up from their chair. “This essay is doing my head in, I need something to sooth the pain.”

“Oh, could you buy me a scone?” Thian asked, putting his hands together as if he was begging on his knees. “I’ll pay with five stellar knock knock jokes.”

“Make it six.”

“Deal.”

The two shook hands and Hayden grinned as they looked at the other three. “Anything from the trolley, dears?”

Y/N and Annalise chuckled. “No thanks,” Y/N said, Annalise saying the same thing.

“No, I’ll just add to this,” Chloe said, patting at her stomach.

“Add to what?” Hayden asked.

“A belly.” Chloe gripped the little that was protruding from her tight denim jeans. “I’m trying to start working out for bikini season, to remove that extra uni weight, you know?”

Hayden looked absolutely lost, so did Thian, and Annalise looked to not be paying any attention at all. Y/N, however, felt a familiar pang in her chest. It was a small explosion she had felt before, one that would taint the rest of her day. Instinctively, she put her scarf around her chest, letting it fall over her stomach.

Hayden did not comment, instead they just walked up to the till, ready to tell the lady working there their order. The table fell silent, but not for the reason Y/N wanted it to. No, they were all just busy with their essays. Y/N knew that it would be impossible for her to concentrate on the assignment now that the only thing she would be thinking about for the rest of the day was Chloe’s comment. Chancing a look over at her friend, she saw her flicking through a book in her lap, completely unbothered, Annalise was cocking her head to the side as she wrote something on her Mac, while Thian was watching Hayden pay for their food. None of them had batted an eyelash. Which was nothing new, Y/N was used to no one picking up on covered up fatphobic comments.

She knew that Chloe had not said those things with her in mind, that the statement had been about her own body only. But Y/N could not help but feel the comment in her very soul. She could remember her mates from school in Nottingham making comments similar to that one, so hearing it wasn’t alien, but it stung as much as hearing it that first time.

“Here we go,” Hayden said, putting the scone down on Thian’s keyboard.

“Scones are so bloody good,” Thian moaned, taking a huge bite out of his. “If we had to fuck a food, I’d fuck scones.”

The table went quiet, all looking at Thian. He just continued on eating, humming some Alesso and Conor Maynard song that was always playing on the radio.

“Why did you just say that?” Hayden asked.

“Felt like sharing my thoughts with the class.”

Hayden raised their eyebrows before looking at the laptop in front of them. “The class did not need to know.”

Thian shrugged his shoulders and Annalise laughed, Chloe joining in after a little while. Y/N smiled at them, but her thoughts still drifted back to Chloe’s comments just a minute earlier. She spread her scarf out over her stomach, wishing she had worn something that wasn’t so tight fitted.

Friday, 15 December 2017

“Sorry we’re late,” Mason said as him and the rest of the rugby team streamed into the seminar room. Hayden, Y/N, Thian, Chloe, Annalise, Nathan, and Annalise’s two friends were all sat around one table, already having started a round of Uno.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Hayden smiled. “I’ve put Uno decks on the other tables.”

“Cheers.”

Mason and the rest of the team sat down, all chatting amongst themselves and letting go of heavy sighs as they took their seats. It was clear that the last training session for the team this year had not only been cold, but also immensely tiring. They all looked very ready to travel home for Christmas break, and it looked like a few already had.

Y/N felt their struggle with the cold. She herself was wearing a mini linen skater dress in black. The skirt was loose, making it comfortable to hide her belly in – she had not stopped thinking about Chloe’s comment all week, but it would not stop her from looking really fucking good – and the waist was open, baring some of her skin and rib tattoo to everyone. Her skin protruded around the straps that were wrapped around her waist, connecting her skirt from her top, but there was nothing she could do about it, so she just tried to stay out of Chloe’s vision. The plunge neck revealed a very deep cleavage and skin, making it so Y/N had put on two silver necklaces to top of the outfit. The rest of the top had long sleeves and a nice collar, which was why Y/N had bought the dress. It was slutty, but in a modest way.

The rest of the gang around the table had also dressed up, ready to go out after this. They all had their last lecture of the semester today, meaning that their Christmas break had just started, and they wanted to celebrate before everyone travelled to their separate locations the next day. Chloe to Oxford, Thian to Bristol, Hayden to Sheffield, Annalise to Monnickendam, and Y/N back home to Nottingham. It would be weird not to meet up with them, to not go to lectures and stress about assignments for the next month. Then again, Annalise had made a Snapchat and Messenger group to ensure that the gang would talk every single day. And knowing her mates, Y/N was sure they would.

During a break between rounds, Y/N got up from their table after making sure that her polyamide shorts underneath her dress didn’t roll down her stomach. She wore them to prevent chafing, knowing that if she did not wear them underneath her skirt, it would be hard for her to wear anything the next day. She did the zip of her chunky sock boots before making her way over to Mason’s table.

“Alright, Y/N?” Mason said as she came closer, giving her a small smile.

“How’re you lot finding the society?” she asked, looking around the table, meeting Kai’s eyes.

Kai beamed. “Good, it’s nice to spend some time with the whole team off the rugby pitch.”

“You’re dressed up,” Mason pointed out. “What’s the occasion?”

“Uno Society.”

Mason smiled. “Trying to pull some rugby players, are ya?”

“No. No, rugby players.”

Mason only raised his eyebrows as if he didn’t believe her, smile widening.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re just as unbearable as Harry sometimes.”

“Nah, Harry’s worse than me.”

“Right.” Y/N took a big breath. “Chloe over there, the blonde,” Y/N said, motioning behind her with a nod of her head. Mason’s gaze immediately fell on Chloe. “She’s wondering if you and Harry can teach her how to play the PlayStation.”

Mason blinked, looking over at Kai as the bigger man clapped his hands together before laughing.

“Is that funny?” Y/N asked.

“No, it’s not. I just knew Kai would react like that,” Mason said. “But I’ll do it. After Christmas at some point.”

“Nice, I’ll tell her that, then.”

“Why does she need someone to teach her how to play PlayStation?” Kai asked, and though there was laughter in his voice, Y/N could tell his question was sincere.

“Some blokes in her flat never want to be social, they just stay in this one room playing PlayStation, and she’s kinda left out ‘cause she doesn’t really know how to play.”

“That might not work out,” Kai said, smiling still.

“Worth a shot, either way.”

“Maybe she just wanna spend time with this hunk,” Kai grinned, putting a hand on Mason’s shoulder. “Or the other hunk that’s not here.”

“Speaking of him,” Y/N said, putting a hand on her hip. “Not that I care, but where is he?”

Kai grinned, sitting back in his chair. “You don’t care? Not at all?”

“No, Y/N doesn’t like Harry much,” Mason explained, completely unbothered. “He’s working. The team’s popping by The Stag’s Head later to check on him since it’s his last shift and all that.”

Y/N nodded, suddenly remembering how Harry had told her that a few weeks ago.

“What’s the bellend done to you?” Kai asked.

“Another time, Kai. We’re in the middle of a round,” Mason said. “I’ll find a day that’s good for Chloe to come over.”

“Wicked,” Y/N smiled. “See ya.”

“Later, mate.”

Y/N walked back to her table, sitting down in her seat again. “Sorry,” she said when Hayden gave her a look. “Chloe, Mason said he could teach you how to play PlayStation sometime after Christmas break.”

Chloe squealed. “Really?!”

“Yeah, he’ll text me saying when.”

“Ahh! Buzzing!”

Y/N gave her a smile before the gang went back to playing.

Though she was physically present over the next hour or so, Y/N’s mind travelled back to the flat and the watch on her desk. Besides assignments, Christmas, and what Chloe said on Tuesday, that was all Y/N had spent her time thinking about. She would be in bed, about to go to sleep, then just get out of her bed and look at the watch, study it carefully. Maybe there was another message of sorts on it, maybe she was supposed to do something with it. But other days she did not want to touch that watch. There was something about it, something about how it had just been left in her possession so casually, something about the fact that she had not seen George since that night, that did not sit right with Y/N at all.

Throughout the rest of the night, after the Uno Society, while the gang was sat at a pub, and then dancing at a club later, Y/N could not bring herself to enjoy herself thoroughly. All her energy went back to that watch. She wanted to understand what it meant, why George had it, and what she was supposed to do with the information. Was she even supposed to do anything at all? It only made her want to travel down to Newport even more. She had to now. Her parents might think about getting rid of that cabin, but Y/N had to revisit it one last time before that happened.

Y/N did not drink that night; she was afraid of the conspiracy theories she would form if she did. She had one cocktail at the pub they went to, but could not do more than that, and her mates did not ask questions as to why she was not drinking, something she really appreciated. It was late when she announced she would be going home, and so she called Nathan and made him stay on the line with her as she took the tube back to Haggerston Station. Once she reached Orsman Road, she could hear his snores on the other end, and hung up halfway down the road to the flat. However, in the distance, she saw a stag’s head sign hanging out on a metal pole, protruding from the building opposite her flat building. She suddenly remembered what Mason said, and crossed the road, making her way over to the pub.

A small group of lads made their way out of the pub as Y/N reached it, the last one holding the door for her. She smiled and thanked him before walking inside. Now that she wasn’t affected by alcohol, Y/N was finally able to take in the pub properly without having the slight haze of alcohol taint it. The lights were comfortably dimmed, not too much so you could not read the menu, but just enough so that a person’s facial features would be a tad blurry. The red that ran along the wall behind the dark bar counter was subtle, giving the bar a sense of holding onto the secrets of each person who walked through the front doors, like a Victorian murder mystery. Y/N could see Sweeney Todd’s barber shop trapped in the same colours.

“Excuse me, miss,” a man walking out from behind the counter said, grey hair and broad shoulders. “We’re closed.”

“Oh,” she said, looking around the dark pub. “I… I thought I might find Harry here.”

The man narrowed his eyes a little. “He’s got a new girlfriend? So soon after the other ones?”

Y/N felt herself narrow her eyes back at the man. Girlfriend? Harry’s had girlfriends – plural – since he started working in The Stag’s Head? There was a very strange combination of a lot of different feelings that swarmed around Y/N’s body, suddenly making her feel seasick. She was about to abort her mission, to say she would just catch Harry at home, when there came a voice from the door leading out into the smoking area.

“Y/N,” Harry said, turning the lights off outside and closing the door. It looked as if he could not quite believe his eyes as he saw her standing there, like he had not thought she would ever show up to his work like this. Without seemingly able to help himself, his green eyes fell down to her green dress and her exposed legs. He quickly looked to his other co-worker, clearing his throat as he walked behind the pub counter. Y/N could swear she saw a slight pink hue to his cheekbones.

“I’ll leave if you’re busy.”

“No,” Harry said, the word coming out a little too quickly as if desperation got the better of him. “No. Not busy.”

The grey-haired man raised his eyebrows at Harry. He must have seen something in Harry’s demeanour, because he said, “You’ll be alright to close up on your own?”

Harry smiled. “It’ll be a nice way to end my time at Stag’s Head.”

“Nice,” the man Y/N now suspected was Harry’s boss, said. “Pop by with the keys tomorrow, will ya?”

“Yes, sir.”

The man gave both Harry and Y/N a smile each before he started on his walk up to his office. The pub was suddenly very quiet, not a single sound came from inside, just the distant siren outside and the low buzz of the city. A place that was usually bustling with noise, energy, and anticipation, was now left with the latter. Y/N looked around the place, unsure of what to do with herself now that it was only her and Harry there. Harry watched her, picking up the Cif spray from where it stood under the counter. She felt his gaze on her as she walked along the booths, touching the red velvet cushions, a rush of goosebumps travelling up her spine at the knowledge that she had his full attention.

She turned around, leaning her bum against a table as she took in the liquor behind Harry. He was washing the counter, looking over at Y/N again, eyes falling to her mid-area that was expanded slightly at the pressure the surface behind her was providing. He quickly looked away again, biting his lips together as he focused on the counter in front of him. Y/N could not help a small smile.

“What made you show up to my work, then?” he asked.

“Can’t a friend show up to another friend’s work?”

Harry let out a strangled chuckle. “Alright. That’s very nice of you, but I don’t buy that for a single second.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “You don’t?”

“There’s gotta have been another reason as to why.”

“Okay…? What’s that?”

Harry shrugged his shoulder, spraying more Cif onto the counter. “You were bored. You didn’t want to be around your other mates any longer. You wanted to see a delicious man with an irresistible Northern accent clean up a pub since it’s his last shift ever here tonight.”

Y/N let out a laugh, placing her hands on either side of the table beside her. “None of the above.”

“Alright,” Harry said, coming out from behind the pub. “What didn’t I cover?”

“You weren’t at the Uno Society meeting.”

The answer came so effortlessly, as if her subconscious had been holding onto the answer for Y/N until she was strong enough to know the real reason. Her hands instantly gripped the table harder, feeling embarrassed for admitting vulnerability so easily. She blamed how easy it was to talk to him, how he just seemed to throw a lasso around her deepest secrets, her most private desires, and drag them out of her.

Harry looked over at her from where he was cleaning the tables a bit further away in the pub. “Had work. Would’ve been there if I didn’t have to be here.”

She nodded, looking down at her black boots. For some reason, his words warmed something inside her. Hearing someone care about something she cared about made her feel special. Then again, someone she just met on the street could tell her they hated Marmite, something Y/N also did, and she would feel equally as fuzzy inside. Finding small bonds, small preferences, small somethings that connected you to other people, made you feel like you weren’t alone, but it also made you feel special, made you feel seen and understood. It was as if someone opened a door into their soul, and giving you a warm handshake, welcoming you into them and their life.

“The lads had a blast,” Harry said, now closer to Y/N as she had zoned out for a minute and some.

“They did?”

“Yeah, it’s nice to just sit down and relax like that. We don’t really get to do that.”

Y/N watched as Harry hovered by a table, leaning over it to clean it. His black tee shirt stretched over his broad back, his shoulder blades visibly working as he ran the cloth over the table in front of him. The outline of his muscles, the way they were so hard against the soft fabric of the tee shirt, made Y/N’s body feel very hot all of a sudden. He worked so carefully, sliding his hand holding the cloth so slowly over the table, paying it his undivided attention. She adjusted her position against her table, looking away from Harry as he stood back up, his black trousers that had been tight around his buttocks, slacking at the lack of pressure on the material. Get a fucking grip, Y/N screamed at herself in her head, focusing on the wall in front of her. She saw Harry look at her over his shoulder, gaze lingering on her for a few seconds. Y/N suddenly found it very hard to draw a proper breath.

“You’re mad I didn’t show up?” Harry asked.

Y/N was silent, her brain completely blank. “Didn’t show up…?”

She could see his smug smile in her peripheral vision. “Yeah.”

“To what?”

His smile widened and he focused on a table closer to her. “The Uno Society.”

She closed her eyes. Her checking out Harry while he had his back to her had not just made her forget the whole reason why she had showed up to The Stag’s Head in the first place. His body looking the way it did, him caring about the society, him teasing her to get a reaction out of her… Why the fuck did he have that effect on her?

“No,” Y/N said, refusing to look at him still. “I’m not mad.”

“Then why won’t you look at me right now?”

Y/N could feel her hands instinctively grabbing harder onto the table behind her. “No reason.”

“You know,” Harry started, she could hear the smirk in his voice. “You can try all you want, but I still know you.”

She huffed. “You wish.”

“I don’t gotta,” he said, chuckling a little. “Don’t gotta wish when I already do know you. Wish I knew you better, wish you’d just open up to me like you did so easily before, but that’s for a later time.”

That made her look over at Harry, her eyebrows drawn together as she just watched him clean yet another table. He… Did he really think she would one day open up to him again and they would go back to being friends like they used to? Was he really that optimistic? Had he thought about it? About them and their friendship? And what a future with her alongside him at uni would look like? Her eyes landed on his bicep as it flexed, holding his body weight as he leaned against the table again. Her gaze following his arm all the way down to his hand, long slender fingers wrapped around the edge of the table, and the thick veins over the dorsal part of his hand made something in Y/N’s brain short circuit. That along with the casual way he was leaning his hips against the table, staring down at it with his head cocked.

What the fuck, Y/N said to herself again, looking away from him. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck?! How was she supposed to stay neutral, to not find him attractive, to not want to sink right back into old habits when she allowed herself to study him and look at him like that. She had to stop. This was getting out of hand.

“You’re uncharacteristically quiet tonight,” Harry said, working slowly as he cleaned up the table in the booth beside the one she was stood leaning against.

“No, I’ve just got things on my mind.”

“What things?”

Your broad shoulders. Your hands. The way you stick your tongue out of your mouth when you are concentrating. But Y/N said none of those things, as doing so would sentence her to a lifetime of humiliation.

“Insignificant things.”

“When they’re taking up a lot of space in your head and preventing you from being present, they’re not insignificant,” Harry said, sounding a little serious all of a sudden. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, there’s nothing inherently bad on my mind, just… I’ve got a lot of… thoughts,” Y/N said, not knowing how else to explain it without giving something away.

“What thoughts?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him. “Thought you did Architectural Studies, didn’t know you also had a degree in being Nosy.”

Harry let out a laugh, coming to stand in front of her with the spray and the cloth in his hands. “I’m very nosy.”

“Glad to hear you’re self-aware.”

“But right now I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Bloody hell, Y/N thought, could he just fucking stop being so nice? So fucking adorable? And fit? It made hating him so much harder than it already was.

“I’m okay.”

He took a step closer. “What’s been on your mind then?”

“Just… life.”

“Has uni exhausted you?”

“Yeah, but it’s not what I’m thinking about.”

Harry took another step closer. Y/N’s palms were suddenly very clammy.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked again, a small smile on his lips as if he was challenging her.

“Maybe you just have to face the fact that I won’t tell you and you can’t figure it out on your own.”

“Nah,” Harry said. “I’ll figure you out.”

Y/N watched as Harry took another step closer, her heart suddenly beating very fast inside her chest.

“I just gotta…” He trailed off, now standing directly in front of her. Tip of his shoes against the tip of hers. Without a warning of sorts, he leaned closer, bending over her until his head hovered beside her own. Chest wavering above hers, touching as she drew in a precipitous breath and he did the same. Their bodies did not brush against one another again, an invisible, burning shield was built to keep them apart the second their upper bodies made contact. As if the universe was telling them that by touching like that, the world would go up in total flames around them.

Harry’s sudden closeness made her breathe in a little too harshly, she was sure he must have heard it but she simply did not care. The reaction her body was having to him being so close was electric, it made all the hairs on her body stand on end. She didn’t know what he was doing that close to her, thinking at first that he must have wanted to whisper something in her ear, to say something to her that would undoubtedly make her glad she was leaning against something solid for support.

But she heard the familiar sound of the Cif spray, and a second later, Harry reached his cloth behind Y/N’s back, cleaning the table. She felt his breath against her neck, triggering something radioactive inside her. The oud aroma of his cologne, with notes of cedar, patchouli, and spicy saffron filled Y/N’s nostrils. In those seconds when Harry hovered above her like that, his warm body inches from hers, breath fanning against her skin, his aroma, and aura mere inches from hers, Y/N was conflicted as to if she wanted time to speed up or slow down some more. She knew that if she stayed like that, with Harry so close to her, for much longer she would go absolutely mad and have an impossible time resisting him if he were to try something like he had done in the living room the week before.

No sooner had she thought that, he pushed off, face lingering just centimetres from hers. “I just need to take a look,” he said, speaking as if he did not mind if the whole world was watching them. He raised his hand, about to touch her chin. For what reason, Y/N did not know, but she didn’t ask any questions. However, he stopped, as if touching her was something he could not do. Y/N was glad he hadn’t, because God knows how her body would have reacted had he tenderly touched her jawline like it looked like he wanted to.

“Take a look?” Y/N mumbled.

“At you.”

A small breath left her lips.

“Maybe the answer to what’s been on your mind is somewhere in your eyes,” he said, eyes suddenly falling to her lips. “Or your lips.” He glanced at her forehead. “Or in the slight lines that appear between your eyebrows when you’re deep in thought.” He looked down at her hands on the table edge. “Or the way you’re gripping the table so tight right now.”

Jesus Christ, she was about to explode. Y/N let go of it immediately, standing up and forcing Harry to take two steps back. His intense glance lingered on her, falling to her lips as she opened her mouth to take a breath.

“It’s getting late,” she said, fingering the hem of her leather jacket as her heart continued to hammer away inside her chest.

“Wait for me, yeah?” Harry walked over to the next table to clean it, doing it way faster than all the other ones. Biting his lip and moving his hand with the cloth over the table as if to make up for time spent on something else, cleaning very slowly and standing too close to her.

“No, I can walk home by myself.”

“I know you’re capable of walking, but I don’t like you being out in the streets all alone late at night.”

Y/N looked over at Harry as he cleaned the last booth, seeing the determination to finish as quickly as possible.

“It’s just across the road,” she said.

“Please just let me walk you across the road, then.” Harry walked behind the bar counter, putting the cleaning supplies away.

“You make me sound like an old lady.”

“Just-“ He appeared from behind the counter. “-Wait.” He then disappeared into the backroom where he only stayed for a few seconds. Y/N would have thought that since he enjoyed working at The Stag’s Head, he would have at least lingered for a few moments to take in the last time he would ever be back there. But instead, he emerged wearing his coat, locking the door behind him, mere seconds later. He turned the lights off, and, walking over to where Y/N was standing, placed a gentle hand to her lower back, guiding her in the direction of the door that she could only barely make out in the dark. Goosebumps instantly ran up Y/N’s back and she inhaled at the pressure of Harry’s hand on her body. He held the door open for her and Y/N stepped outside, watching as Harry locked the front doors to The Stag’s Head for the very last time.

He looked around them after locking the door, checking up and down the three streets that came to a crossroad just outside the pub. Once his eyes finally met Y/N’s again he gave her the smallest smile, then motioned for her to lead the way back to their flat. She wanted to roll her eyes, but she could not find it in herself to do just that in that moment. Though it was just across the road, she very much appreciated Harry’s company back to their flat. Distance was nothing when the roads were dark and the faces of the figures walking past were left blurred by the dim streetlamps.

Harry held the door for Y/N once again, letting her be the first to enter the building. She strolled upstairs, unlocking their front door and watching as Harry gestured for her to walk on inside. The flat was dark, except for the warm yellow lights Nathan had twined around the railing of their terrace and the changing colours of the luminous Christmas tree in the living room. The kitchen was usually left in darkness, as was the rest of the flat, but since their eyes were used to night outside, it wasn’t hard to navigate their way to the stairs. They took their jackets off, and without her leather jacket on, Y/N was very aware of how much of her skin was exposed to Harry. Her dress showed off her legs, arms, and parts of her back to him, and she knew that, if he walked behind her up the stairs, he would get a good look at her bum.

She took her boots off and started up the stairs with her purse in her hand, hearing Harry make his way up them as well. If any man were to walk behind her up the stairs, Harry was one she trusted not to take the mick, to not look up her skirt and make her feel uncomfortable. But… after everything… she still didn’t want him to see her knickers. However, facing her door, she heard Harry walking up the stairs. Taking a deep breath, she turned around to face him once he reached the first floor. What happened next happened so suddenly that Y/N barely managed to wrap her head around it before the moment was gone.

She had just turned around to face Harry when he walked up over to her. Taking a step back at the sudden closeness, she felt herself breathe in sharply as Harry’s face lingered only centimetres from her own again. Though the person standing in front of her was a man, a completely different person, something inside her brain took her back to that night when they were 16. He hadn’t been this close to her since then, had not touched her or looked at her like this since then. His eyes flicked down to her lips, and then to meet hers, wet lips parting as if the anticipation was killing him.

And Y/N had to painfully admit, it was killing her, too. As much as she had tried to fight it, it was impossible to now. She wanted Harry to kiss her. Not tenderly kiss her like you would peck a person you were in love with, or to gently rub his thumb over her cheek as a show of affection, or to hug her tight when they met up for lunch. No, she wanted him to fucking kiss her. She wanted him to grab her face and kiss her hard; desperately, needily. She wanted them to fumble to take each other’s clothes off, and for him to make up for how bad that first time together was. There was absolutely no denying it, Y/N wanted Harry. She really wanted him. All these months, all those moments spent trying to push the thought away, she simply could not anymore. There was a hunger inside her for him, but only in the sexual sense. She could never fall in love with this man, she just wanted to fuck him. And she wanted to fuck him bad.

Her own lips parted, and she looked into his eyes with an expression she hoped he could read, because she needed him to understand. Once again, Harry raised his hand, hovering between them as if he were unsure what to do with it. Fingers twitching, she could see he was conflicted, whether he should touch her cheek as it looked like he wanted to, or if he should stop himself. Y/N let her eyes fall to his hand, to tell him she wanted him to touch her. She wanted to feel him somewhere, anywhere on her. Just looking at him, she could see he wanted the same as her. He wanted to feel her body, to explore it in a completely different way to last time.

Harry’s hand fell out of view, and just as Y/N thought he was going to let it hang limply, uselessly, at his side, she felt something on her waist. A warm pressure, snaking around the black linen of her dress. She waited for him to pull her closer to him, for their torsos to connect, but it never happened.

“Y/N,” Harry whispered, eyes falling to her lips again.

She did not answer, instead just tilted her head so it would be easier for him to kiss her. With her eyelids hanging low over her eyes, her body language not showing any sign of protesting, and with her lips parted, Y/N hoped the message was coming across clearly. Harry leaned in closer, his nose almost touching hers. Her heart was beating so fast and hard it hurt. Her hands were clammy. All her attention focused on Harry and the electricity they created on that spot where his hand rested. He leaned down, lips hovering just over the crook of her neck, making her close her eyes. Breath against the hair of her shoulder, lightning shooting up Y/N’s back. He slowly leaned back out again, nose hovering beside hers. The anticipation was absolutely killing her.

“I…” But he drifted off, eyes falling to her lips again. She could feel his breath on her mouth, could smell his cologne. The tension was making her dizzy, she just wanted him to bloody kiss her already.

She was just about to do it herself when she felt his warm hand drop off her waist. She blinked, and the next second, Harry took a step back. He only looked at her, mouth working as if he was trying to find the right words to say, but there were none. So, as if blinking himself awake from a sort of dream, he took another step back. Suddenly, he opened the door into his room. He stopped in the doorway, looking back at Y/N. Again, he tried to say something that must have died on the tip of his tongue, because again, he did not utter a word. It looked like he physically could not say them out loud. Instead, he closed the door, leaving Y/N standing alone out in the dark hallway.

Y/N’s eyes rested on the door to the bathroom, trying to go over in her head where it had just happened. Had… Had Harry just walked away just now? Had he teased her in the pub, then done almost the same just now, only to walk away? What had gone wrong? Why had he not kissed her? What had made him step away? What had made him stop? Y/N could not answer a single one of the questions, and she doubted Harry would give her any. She closed her eyes, resting her head against her door behind her. This was exactly why she had not wanted to live with Harry, this was why she had not given in to his charms and flirts before. Now, because of what had just happened, because of how awkward that had just been, they were back to square one. Just living under the same roof as him infuriated her. She could not fucking stand Harry Styles.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 4th April, 9PM GMT!

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[newmoonyue]

Prompt #34- Zuko ~ Smut

34. "You might not like me, but you definitely want me."

(Please take in mind that you must be 18+ to read this, and the character(s) mentioned are all 18+ as well. ATLA/TLOK characters mentioned are all aged up.)

Pairing: Zuko X Female Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Zuko's P.O.V

It was as if the day couldn't get any hotter. Training in the scorching heat was miserable, especially when you're forced to dodge fire, and your life most certainly depends on it. Sure the suns heat fuels firebenders but, I hated it.

"Again!" My uncle yelled, Fire nation soldiers began shooting daggers, and lashing burning lines of  fire towards me. I dodged each obstacle until I had successfully downed each soldier.

"Good job Fire Lord Zuko. I'm very proud of you." My uncle Iroh said, sipping his tea.

"Thank you Uncle." I grabbed my water and took a swig. The sun was at it's highest, reflecting off of the cement below. These days were my least favorite. I hated the meetings, and I hated all the attention but training was the worst. I spent my teenage years training, I didn't understand why I must train well into my 20s.

"Ahh y/n!" I heard my uncle cheer. I turned to see the first female general y/n walking over. We've never seen eye to eye. Because she was the first female to enter into the highest ranks must have gotten into her head, as she continued to undermine me.

I glanced over to where she was chatting with my uncle. She bowed to my Uncle and walked over to a few of the soldiers and greeted them. She began sparring with them, gracefully dancing over the fire shot at her. Once she too downed the soldiers everyone clapped for her. She bowed smiling cockily. She noticed me watching her and quirked an eyebrow. She walked over and stood next to me.

"Hello Zuko." I scoffed.

"Fire Lord." I corrected. Y/n smirked.

"Mmhmm." I rolled my eyes turning away from her. It must have been the heat, or the fact I was exhausted but she was getting on my nerves a little more than usual. Sure she's gorgeous, and everyone wanted her, but I wasn't a fan of the fact she doesn't listen  

"Aww is someone cranky?" Y/n snickered. I shrugged her off walking towards the training dojo. I needed out of this sun. I motioned for a few of the guards to follow. Surprisingly Y/n followed too.

"Wow, Zuko is really in a bad mood." She laughed. When none of the guards snickered she glared at all of them. They immediately stiffened. One of them laughed, very obviously nervous.

"You all may go." I waved the guards off. Y/n stuck around like the humidity in the air. I huffed turning towards her.

"What do you want? Can't you tell I want to be left alone?" She smirked.

"Well, I can tell that but you know me." She walked closer. "I don't listen." She shot a fire dagger in my direction. Shocked I dodged it, whipping a plume of fire in her direction. She circled her hands, catching the attack and shooting it away. She charged me, aiming for my chest. I blocked holding her hands. She was very mighty, but her only downfall was the fact I was taller.

"Let me go!" She wormed out of my grip, shoving me down onto the mat. I landed on my back.

"What is your issue?" I sat up and glared at her through the lose strands of hair clinging to the moisture on my face. From this angle I could see every curve of her body, the tank top and pants she wore clinging to her body perfectly. Snap out of it you idiot! She must have caught me looking and smirked as if reading my mind

"Aw the poor little Fire Lord has been knocked down. How tragic." She shifted her weight and placed her hands on her hips.

"You know I don't like you, or enjoy your company, so why are you still here? All your doing is getting on my nerves!" She seemed taken aback for a moment before regaining her composure.

"You might not like me, but you definitely want me." My eyes widened in astonishment.

"W-want?" Her usual smirk felt different, the look in her eyes changing as well.

"Oh Zuko, you silly man." Y/n got down on her hands and knees crawling on top of me. I wanted to push her off, I wanted to stand and run out of here but it was like we we're magnets.

"Say it. You. Want. Me." She said inching her lips closer and closer to mine.

"I-" She cut me off closing the space between us, capturing my lips with her own. Her lips were as soft as they looked. She pulled away.

"Sorry, you took too long." I looked up into her eyes. They were full of want and desire. Pure lust. My hands gravitated towards her hips. I gripped them firmly causing  Y/n to squeal in delight.

"Well, even if I did 'want you' like you say, what do you want me to do about it?" I questioned.  Y/n grinded down in response. I could feel the moisture from her core soaking her pants.

"What do you think?" She chided. I grasped her hips tighter, flipping us over so I was on top. She moaned, her face a shade of red matching her clothes. I leaned in and kissed her roughly,  Y/n tangling her hands in my hair. I bit her lip playfully. I groaned as she wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me deeper into her embrace. She placed her hands gently on my face deepening the kiss. She licked my bottom lip, teasing me. I moved one of the hands that was placed beside her head to the hem of her top.

"May I?" Sure we were in the heat of the moment, but I wanted to be sure she actually wanted this and wasn't going to push me off at any moment and spit in my face.

"Take it off," She whimpered breathlessly. I've never seen her this way, and I liked it. I pulled it off quickly. Her chest still covered by the sports bra. I found the hooks and soon they were undone, her perfect breasts exposed. The room was beginning to heat up, the both of us extremely ready for what was to come. I captured one of her nipples in between two fingers, teasing her gently. A quiet moan escaped her lips in response.

"Oh Zuko." The sound of her moaning my name enchanted me. I decided to switch things up and slowly circled the other nipple with my tongue. Y/n squirmed below me.

"Fuck." I grunted. She moved her hands to her pants, starting to tug them down. I made quick work of taking them off and tossing them to the side.  Y/n's face blushed a deeper shade than before.

"You're beautiful." I said admiring her soft breasts, and the endless curves of her body. I pulled my shirt over my head and began tugging my pants off. My heart was beating out of my chest. I didn't know how badly I wanted this, that is until it was happening at this moment. Suddenly I was hyperaware of everything around me, our naked bodies, the heat of the room, and the fact someone could walk in at any moment and for whatever reason, that made things even hotter. I leaned back down fluttering kisses down y/n's neck and chest.

"Please," She whimpered again. I smirked against her skin, beginning to leave little love bites on her chest. "Just take me." I moved my mouth next to her ear, breathing the warm air making her shiver.

"Only if you say please." I growled. Y/n shivered again.

"Please. Please take me, I'm yours." I captured her lips in a kiss again, this time aligning myself up with her entrance.

"Damn y/n you're so wet. All of this for me?" I smirked. She groaned, ignoring my teasing. Slowly I began pushing my member in. Her quiet moans slowly began to get louder the longer I was inside. She arched her back as I began to rock my hips, slowly gliding in and out of her.

"Fuck!" I exclaimed quickening the pace. Her sex felt like velvet enveloping my dick. Y/n's legs wrapped around my lower back once again, allowing me to reach deeper.

"Please, don't stop." She mewled, eyes rolling into the back of her head in pleasure. I grunted as I pounded quicker and quicker, tension building in my ab. Y/n looked me directly in the eyes, my breath getting hitched in my throat. Slowly, I felt the surge of pressure.

"I'm gonna come." She smirked flipping us over once again. I was extremely surprised as she grinded down on my dick, taking complete control. Y/n's hands grasped my chest, her pussy gliding up and down my length.

"Damnit." I grunted releasing inside her. I watched as y/n smirked.  

"Well, so much for you not wanting me." Y/n snickered, leaning up to kiss me.

"Who said I didn't want you?"

This drabble was requested by the lovely Nereida (@neri26boo)! I hope you enjoyed, it's been awhile since I've written smut! <3

Thank you for reading!

~Grace

[honeybeezx]

Armor - Oberyn Martell x Reader x Ellaria Sand - Part 5

Author’s Note: This took me literally forever to write😂 A lot will be happening in this chapter and the chapters to follow, but because of that, they may take longer for me to write. Thanks for baring with me guys and I’m so glad you all have been enjoying this as much as I love writing it!

Summary: The Silver Hawk competes in an archery competition at The Red Keep.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: violence, blood

————————————————————-

Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up.

The mantra played over and over in your head as you laced your boots. Your hair was braided down your back, but no matter how hard you tried, a few whips of hair fell over your face. You knew it would not hinder your ability, but it annoyed you all the same.

“You ready for this, Little Hawk?” Bronn clasped his ginormous hand against your back and you nearly had the breath knocked from you. You bit back a cough and tried not to seem shaken by his surprise endearment that really felt more like an attack.

“Of course I’m ready.” You replied simply. You were confident in your abilities, but something didn’t seem right. There was a feeling rooted in your gut that told you to run, to get out of this as fast as you could. But your mind told you you were too far to turn back now.

Bronn smiled before looking at the flap of your tent, the only thing between you, the arena, the challengers, and the high society of Westeros. “Shoot straight, girl. Stun the livin’ daylights out of ‘em. Make anyone who ever underestimated you regret it.”

You smiled softly at Bronn. He was alright...sometimes.

You both turned your head at the trumpets sounding just outside your tent.

“Think that’s my cue.”

“Give ‘em hell.”

You adjusted your brace, made sure your quiver was tightly strapped to your back, and your bow tight in hand.

Time for battle.

You walked out of the tent and forced your eyes not to water at the blinding sun. It was such a large shift from the shaded tent, were you not accustomed to training your eyesight in various types of weather, you might have shed a tear or two at the brightness. You wondered if the other competitors could do the same.

There were people on all sides of you. It was overwhelming. Normally you could scout your area, eliminate threats before taking your place to shoot. Here the threats were like your own personal wall, a couple hundred of them surrounding you, anyone willing to strike at any moment.

But above them all were the only two you were seriously concerned about. Cersei, and her son, King Jeoffry of the Seven Kingdoms.

You introduced yourself and gave a small bow. This was the first time meeting the king after all. Both looked less than amused.

“You’re the best archer in the seven kingdoms?” The boy-king laughed. “Is this a joke? I have squires bigger and more impressive than you. You’re a...woman.”

If the king was trying to mock you, he was going to have to try a lot harder than that. What he had said hundreds of men had said before. “My skill doesn’t depend upon physical stature. Only a steady arm and a sharp eye. I’d like to compete and give a presentation of my skill if it pleases the king.” You responded with all the airs of a highborn. Highborn. You were no lower than them. If anything, you were above them where morality was concerned.

“I hope your skill is more impressive than the sight of you. My uncle speaks of you very highly, and I don’t like being disappointed.”

Imagine how the rest of us felt when you became king.

“Your uncle hates being wrong as much as you don’t like being disappointed, your grace. I don’t think he would have encouraged me to enter this most esteemed competition should he think you may be disappointed or should put his intelligent reputation at risk.” You teased, not above mocking your friend in public.

He sighed and rolled his eyes, but knew he should choose his words carefully around the king. “You won’t be disappointed. I’m clearly not keeping her around because she’s good company.”

“She’ll put on a good show.” Cersei smirked.

It will be quite a show when you’re removed from power.

“We’ll see.” You took that as your cue to leave, knowing that was about as much as you could take from the Lannisters.

But when you turned around, you were finally met with the other competitors. They all looked intimidating, but you didn’t feel intimidated. You would only feel that once you saw their skill. You had learned a long time ago that many men liked to look tough without actually being so, and in the skill of archery, no amount of muscle or fancy armor would help you win a competition.

You estimated about 25 yards between you and the target as you stood before it. You had it targets from farther away, but whether or not you could hit the center of a target was another matter completely. You couldn’t remember the last time you had shot arrows for a tournament. Your arrows were meant for damned people, not for sport. But you could use more money, you needed money to survive.

At least that was how you were going to justify all this to yourself.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the sun catch something shiny and gold. You turned your head to find Ellaria in a peach-colored dress with gold embellishments, and Oberyn in a burnt sienna cloak with the very same embellishments. Both pairs of eyes had settled on you, sparkling with excitement. Oberyn gave you a small nod of encouragement. Show them what you have, brave girl.

“The rules are simple.” The squire began, bringing you and the other competitors to attention. “Whoever does not hit the center of the target is eliminated. After each round, the contestants will move back more and more until one person is standing. Competitors, draw your bows.”

Everyone did as commanded. You took a deep breath.

“Shoot.”

You let the arrow fly without a single thought.

It pierced the center of the target effortlessly. The tall, brutish man next to you did the exact same thing. You saw a few others had as well, and a few who had missed by just a sliver. The man glared at you, but you held your gaze.

You’re the competition here. Most of these people probably know who you are and want nothing more than to beat the legendary Silver Hawk. Do not let some man with more muscles than brains take your place.

“Walk 15 paces back.” The page instructed. You all did as you were told. When the page was sure everyone was in an even line, he signaled to draw your bow again.

“Shoot.”

Your arrow pierced the middle of the target once again, just a hair away from your last arrow. You were making this look easy. No one left this round. The obvious amateurs were gone within the first round. The real competition began now.

It was the same thing over and over again, and honestly? You were getting a little bored. Shoot. Walk back 15 paces. Shoot. Walk back 15 more paces.

Until it wasn’t that anymore.

You were at the edge of the arena. You didn’t even notice that it was only the brute and you. He had hit every single arrow in the middle of the target just as you had. You could tell his bow was handcrafted, and his arrows were from the smoothest steel. He was as knowledgeable as you when it came to wielding a bow, a worthy competitor too, as much as you didn’t want to admit it.

The target was easily 75 yards or so away. You didn’t know if even you could hit that. This was certainly the farthest you had ever been. You would have never taken this shot if it were an animal or someone you needed to eliminate. Was this easy for your competitor? He didn’t look even a tad nervous, you hoped you didn’t either. You did look focused though, as you considered the distance, the wind, your own strength. Would your bow even shoot that far?

Guess you were about to find out.

“Archers, draw your bow.”

You did as you were told, and closed your eyes, just for a second. You felt the fletching brush against the tips of your fingers, your hand holding onto the leather grip firmly, the cool silver of your arrow brushing against your cheek for just a second, your feet planted into the earth. The world fell around you. All you knew was the arrow, and how to make it fly.

And it did.

Flew just inside the center of the target, just barely making a bullseye.

The man’s arrow was just outside.

“Yes!!!” Bronn jumped up and pumped a fist in the air. “That’s our girl!!”

“Did you have any doubt that she could do it?” Tyrion asked cheekily, secretly elated that his champion won the whole tournament, that his friend had her moment of glory.

“It seems I will find myself short of some money.” Oberyn chuckled. “Your Silver Hawk, Lord Tyrion...she is very special.” He said, smiling at you from afar.

Tyrion smiled too. “Yes, she is.”

You let yourself laugh as the sound of applause filled your ears. Even your opponent offered his hand.

“You’re a fine shot. I’m just glad the stories are true. I didn’t want to leave here disappointed.” The man winked at you before taking his leave. You were about to take your leave as well when a voice called out over the cheer of the crowd.

“Wait!”

Your head whipped around. For a moment you forgot the golden-haired king entirely. He studied you with a vicious glare in his eyes that made you uneasy. You tried not to show it, but it was no use.

“Bring out the prisoner from yesterday.” The king commanded.

After a moment, the guard brought out a prisoner in chains. He was a big man, balding and bearded. He looked scared out of his wits and you were more nervous for him than you were for yourself.

“Chain him to a post.”

The guards did as they were told and chained the prisoner to one of the posts holding up the arena. The scared and nervous expression that matched his let him know you were not in on whatever this was.

“Place an apple on his head.”

Fuck.

A target was one thing, but a man’s life now rested in your hands. If you missed, it was his life in the line. The pressure was more intense now. The tournament was to uphold your reputation, it was all you had. But this was something much more frightening. To take the life of terrible people who hurt other people was one thing, to take the life of an innocent person was another, and even more so, to do it by accident.

“Shoot the apple.”

You once again scouted the distance. It was far, but you wouldn’t hurt this man. You would aim high, you’d rather miss far over his head than to pierce it. You gave a small nod to the man. I won’t hurt you, I promise.

You set your target. You aimed a bit higher than the center, not wanting the arrow to be any closer to his head than it needed to be.

1...2...

The juices of the apple ran down the man’s temple and dripped from his chin. The man looked like he could have passed out from relief, or maybe because he didn’t breathe that entire time.

“Oh sweet gods above, thank you! Thank you milady, don’t know ‘ow to repay you”

You smiled kindly at him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “No need to thank or pay me. I don’t harm people without actual cause, and you’ve done me no offense.”

“Now shoot him.”

Your heart stopped in your chest. Your eyes grew wide, looking. To the other to make sure you heard that right, but his fear matched yours.

Even Tyrion looked to his nephew in horror. “Perhaps, nephew, you forget that this is a tournament and not an execution. This is not what she signed up for, this is not what we agreed on.”

“I don’t need to comply with your deal or her conditions. I am king, and you would do best to remember that, uncle, before you are the one tied to the post.” Jeoffey spat.

You tried to clear your head. How could you possibly get out of this? “If I am to shoot him, I would like to know the nature of his crimes.” You demanded.

“He stole wine and has been rotting in a cell. He takes up space there. I want him disposed of.”

All of this for some wine? “Surely your grace can find some other use for him? There is much to be done around the palace with your wedding approaching so soon, is there not? Perhaps he could serve as staff around the castle or-“

“Look at him!” He spat. “He’s fat, pathetic, and lazy. He’s no use to me. Shoot him or die, those are your options.”

Oberyn stood before the queen regent, his fist balled. “Convince your son to forget this. The Silver Hawk has done her part, she’s won the tournament. She kills for Tyrion, not Jeoffey, and even then she does not strike me as the type of person to just kill anyone. Everyone’s been entertained enough.”

Cersei just smiled something wicked. “I have no influence over my son. He is king, his word is the law. If the Silver Hawk is as good as she says, she’ll be able to do this, I doubt you have any cause for concern.” She smirked before sipping her wine.

Oberyn gritted his teeth and narrowed his eyes at the queen. “She will not forget this if you make her take this man’s life. She does not kill without reason, but the murder of this man would give her cause to take revenge in the future. Don’t put her through this, and don’t give her an excuse to send one of her arrows flying in yours or your son’s direction.”

Cersei laughed. “You think she would be so stupid? She won’t do anything, not if she values her life.” Cersei leaned towards the Dornishman like she was letting him in on a secret. “The Hawk needs to learn when she is beat, when her arrows can’t save her. This will just teach her. This is good for everyone.”

“Good for everyone? Or good for your pride?”

They didn’t call him the Red Viper for nothing. His tongue was as quick as a snake's bite.

Cersei narrowed her eyes. “Step down Prince Oberyn. You and the Hawk aren’t winning this one.”

Oberyn and Tyrion shared a look of dread before returning their attention to you.

Your mind reeled. Think, think, think. What would Tyrion say or do to get out of this?

Shoot him or die, those are your options.

You took your position and tried not to look at the man for too long. He was trembling, crying, trying to break free and you couldn’t take it. You let your arrow fly.

The man let out a wail as the arrow pierced his leg. But before Jeoffery could protest, you intervened. “You asked me to shoot him my lord, so I did. You wish to dispose of him. Perhaps, Prince Oberyn, you will accept this man as a gift from Kings Landing, welcoming you to our city, and being a most gracious and humble guest. Do with him as you please since he is not fit to stay here.”

Oberyn chuckled and gave a dazzling smile. Now how did she come to think of that?

“Of course. Dorne welcomes all people. You would be most welcome in my family’s city. I could use a court jester. Once I have him trained you may visit him in Dorne, King Jeoffery.” Jeoffery seemed to quite like the thought of that. But you knew better. The same Oberyn who spoke of equality among people, the man who spoke of love and compassion would not make a joke of a poor, innocent man. And Jeoffery would be too consumed with power to think about taking a nice little trip to Dorne. “He may return with Ellaria and I when we depart.” Oberyn nodded.

You knew it was dangerous to say anything right now, you were already dancing with death as it was. But your eyes met the Prince’s, and at once he understood your level of gratitude.

“Take him to Prince Oberyn’s quarters. Chain him up there. Let the Dornish deal with this filth.” Jeoffery scoffed.

Cersei looked as if she could order to have you killed right that instant.

“Why don’t we enjoy some wine of our own to celebrate my champion’s victory? All this excitement is leaving me parched.” Tyrion suggested before his sister could do something brash.

And just like that, the festivities came to an end. As soon as you were out of sight, you stealthily followed the guards to the Lannister brothel. Firstly to escape any harm, secondly, to find the man you had just shot. You entered the brothel through the window, only to be met with the shocked face of a young girl.

“Where’s the man with an arrow in his leg?” You asked one of the girls frantically but in hushed tones. You didn’t need the guards or other Lannisters knowing you were here.

“H-He’s up the stairs in the back rooms on the left. He’s in a bad way.” The girl croaked out.

Sometimes you forgot how intimidating you could be.

“Do you have alcohol? I have to tend to him. I need alcohol and some cloth.” You tried asking in a much softer, calmer voice.

The girl nodded and scurried off. You made your way up the stairs and found the farthest back room on the left. You found the man withering in pain on the bed.

“You need to try and control your breathing. I’m not going to be able to help you if you’re all panicked. I know it’s hard, but you have to trust me.”

The man nodded and tried to hold back the tears in his eyes. You took deep breaths, and he tried breathing with you. “You saved my life...damned my leg but saved my life. Went through an awful lot of trouble. I’m surprised Cersei didn’t kill you right there.”

You knelt next to the man to observe his wounds. “Cersei doesn’t scare me.” You said confidently. “Just because she has power doesn’t make her a true ruler, nor her son, or any of the Lannisters. They only have power if they think we fear them.”

“Most do fear them though. And if they ‘ave the power they can ‘urt us, they ‘ave ‘urt us. Nearly killed me over some wine.” He huffed.

“If more people stood against them they wouldn’t have so much power.” They would have their status, they would have their wealth, but if the people started revolting, the people would stand a chance. Sadly, you knew the Lannisters already evoked too much fear into the hearts of the people they’re supposed to be protecting for anything to happen, at least not now. “I understand...not wanting to stand against them. I’m under the protection of Tyrion so I have more freedoms. I’m just glad King Jeoffery reacted well to the decision not to kill you.”

“'Aye, that makes two of us.”

You turned your head at the sound of a door opening. You were expecting the young girl from before only for your eyes to meet Ellaria’s dark ones. She came in with the cloth and a bag of assorted ointments which she promptly dumped on the bed before unchaining the man.

“How are you?” She asked the man frantically, her mind only focused on helping him.

“Well, other than an arrow bein’ in me leg I’m just great.” He quipped.

“He’s calmed down a lot. We should be ready.”

Ellaria nodded her head, knowing what you meant.

“Ready for-“

Before he could finish, you quickly removed the arrow from his leg. He howled in pain, but Ellaria was working fast. She made quick work of using the ointments and tying his leg tight with the cloth to stop the blood flow.

The man was sobbing and gripping your arm like his life depended on it. It hurt, but you bit back your pain. Didn’t seem right to complain when the man just had an arrow ripped out of his leg.

Oberyn entered and knelt next to you, offering the man a cup. “Drink this. It will help with the pain and help you sleep. It’s a sedative of sorts.”

The man quickly downed the tea, willing to do anything to get rid of the ridiculous amount of pain. He handed the cup to you and laid his head back against the pillow. “Thank you, all of you. I owe you all my life.”

“Just get some rest. Your body has gone through a lot today and you’ll need sleep to recover your strength.” You chided, standing up to leave. Oberyn and Ellaria followed to leave the man in peace.

“Thank you for helping him, both of you. He is alive because of your kindness.” You thanked. You couldn’t help but be a bit surprised. Most royalty would not have cared about the life of one poor commoner, but neither of them wasted any time in helping him. The more you learned about the two of them the more questions you asked. Why were they so different from the highborn you’ve met? You shouldn’t like them as much as you do. Highborn were supposed to be snobbish, egotistical, and rude, they were supposed to be like the Lannisters.

But they weren’t.

“It is you he should thank. If you wouldn’t have tricked the king like that, you would have had no choice but to kill him to save yourself.” Ellaria reasoned.

But you were having none of it. “I still shot him with an arrow. He would still be in pain were it not for the ointments and tea. And you,” you began, turning towards Oberyn, “were you serious about bringing him to Dorne?”

Oberyn smiled and nodded. “Yes, though I am in no need of a jester, my family keeps me entertained enough.” He laughed. “But I will take him to Dorne. From there he can do as he pleases. If he does not wish to stay in Dorne I will find him passage somewhere else. Every innocent man should be free. Stealing some wine does not warrant death, nor imprisonment when they have enough Dornish wine to fill the Shivering Sea.”

“Thank you.” You smiled kindly, placing a hand on his arm. You both locked eyes for a moment and your heart skipped a beat.

What the fuck is this?

Why were your cheeks getting hot? Why did your whole body feel warm and light?

“Ahem.” Ellaria intervened, smirking all the while. You broke your gaze and returned your attention to Ellaria. “I am not as generous as my lover. I demand payment for my services. I spent good money on those ointments.”

You were surprised by Ellaria’s sudden shift in behavior. She had all the riches in the world and she wanted payment? “I earned my money and you have-“

“A dance.” She interrupted before you could rattle off your other five reasons why she wasn’t getting your money. “A dance at the boy Lannister’s wedding. One with each of us.”

Of course that’s what she wanted.

You wanted to say no, you almost did. But Ellaria had spared her ointments and Oberyn put himself in harm's way just by siding with you when you tricked Jeoffery. Sure, Jeoffery had been amused with the idea of the man as a jester for the Dornish, but Oberyn didn’t know the king would go along with it. And they both of them were certainly not going to be in the good graces of Cersei now.

Not that they were to begin with, but this certainly didn’t help matters.

“I don’t know if you even want to make that request, Ellaria. I’m not a dancer-“

“We will teach you.” Oberyn interrupted before you could protest more, clearly excited by his lover’s suggestion. “I am familiar with certain dances, but Ellaria is the best dancer in Dorne. She can teach anyone to dance.” He purred, pulling her closer to his side before they gazed at each other lovingly.

It was disgustingly cute.

Ellaria playfully hit his chest. “He praises me too much, but I will teach you. You are light on your feet, no? You will not be as bad as you think.”

You sighed, knowing you were going to regret this. “Seems I cannot refuse.” You gave them both a soft smile. “I owe you both, and seeing as I am employed by a Lannister, I can’t very well avoid paying my debt. I would be honored to share a dance with both of you.”

“Good.” Ellaria smiled cheekily. “And since it was my idea, I get first dance.” She teased her lover, in which he grabbed her waist forcefully and pulled her close to him, pecking her lips, but sparing you any more public displays of affection.

Secretly, you didn’t mind. They were actually quite cute when you didn’t have to scold them for trying to make you so flustered.

“I suppose I can live with that considering I will have the pleasure of dancing with the two most beautiful women in the capital.”

You smiled softly and blushed.

Then you quickly remembered yourself.

You cleared your throat. “Anyways, I need to return to The Red Keep. I’m sure Tyrion is waiting to scold me about infuriating his sister again. I better get it all over with now.” It was a lame and rather pathetic excuse, but if you didn’t leave soon you were afraid they would make some remark on the sudden flustered state you now found yourself in.

“We will see you in a few days then. Stay guarded, Silver Hawk. Our actions did not please Cersei, she was rather determined to see you kill that man today and she did not get what she wanted. Find us should anything happen.” Oberyn instructed, his sultry voice turning into something much more serious.

Ellaria’s eyes met yours. She was worried, genuinely worried. Every part of you wanted to somehow console her, to assure both of them that you would be okay. But you felt the beating of your heart pick up the pace. Tyrion, Shae, Bronn, they all worried about you, but it was always lighthearted, worry hid under a joke or a tease. But the Dornish knew no such thing, they felt everything, wore everything on their sleeve, and damned all who had anything to say about it. It was a different kind of bravery. It wasn’t charging head-first into battle, but it was more than you could ever muster, more than you’ve ever known or allowed yourself to feel. And it scared you. Because one person caring for you like this was intimidating, two people were terrifying.

“I will not hesitate to seek you both out should anything happen.” You promised. They had earned your trust, despite every bone in your body that still rebelled against them. They risked their alliance with the Lannisters and went out of their way to help a man they didn’t know, a man they didn’t have to save. There was something to be said in that.

You exited the brothel and returned to the palace. You stocked your arrows and checked your armor. The wedding would only be days away. What would become of the Dornish? Would they ever return? Could you ever go to them?

And why were you thinking of these things? It didn’t matter where they would go. They would do as they pleased and you would go where Tyrion led. Tyrion, Shae, Bronn, they were home. But when you slept that night, your mind was filled with flashes of warm oranges, golds, yellows, bronzed skin, sharp features, dark hair, and eyes that could switch between sharp and kind in an instant.

But you didn’t see red.

Not yet.

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Tag List (if I’m missing someone or if you would like to be added please let me know!): @ilikechocolatemilkh @rpcvliz @janelongxox @evyiione @grogusmum

[daverygalskisbff]

Pidge & Lance friendship/sibling dynamic headcanons?

hi! thank you sm for asking this!! i didn't think I'd be able to come up with anything but it was surprisingly super fun to do, I really liked writing this. I'm sorry it took so long to get out tho, I've had to spend like 90% of my time on the yearbook recently and i couldnt really do much else :/. but the yearbook is now finished and so is this hc list! i hope you enjoy it :)

let us begin 

Lance and Pidge! 

they didn't actually become friends until after the whole voltron debacle started 

we saw that lance had tried to befriend pidge back at the garrison, but (obviously) she had never been interested

like, at all 

so lance just kind of assumed she didn't like him and gave up after a while 

they're mostly, like, acquaintances, for the first few weeks of joining voltron - it takes pidge a little while to warm up to lance bc she thinks he's just an annoying party-boy, and lance thinks pidge is kind of full of herself

once they realise how much they have in common, though… 

all hell breaks loose. more or less. 

they play a lot of video games together

at first they only have killbot phantasm one, so they give themselves new rules and "multitask levels" to make it more interesting after they both inevitably master the game 

this usually involves having to defeat levels by themselves while the other person throws things at them 

the two of them also make sure to spend at least an hour every space mall-visit searching for new games, and pidge likes to code things for them to play when they run out  

lance has a list of nicknames for all of their teammates, but he makes a point to have some variety in his pidge names for the different occasions that he uses them in 

this list includes but is not limited to: pidgey/pidgeon (self explanatory), pea (short joke and green joke wrapped in one), birdie (for when he's trying to be nice), and stripe (after the evil gremlin in the movie gremlins)

pidge isn't a big fan of music, but she hates to work in silence, so lance will come hang out with her while she works and just talk about whatever

she doesn't fully listen most of the time, but lance doesn't mind because he never really talks about anything important 

their other teammates aren't exactly used to this dynamic, tho 

keith, staring at lance as he explains in detail the "sith lord jar jar binks" theory: how do you… focus? with him doing this? 

pidge: it's kinda like a white noise machine. I just tune him out

lance: first of all, racist, second of all- 

pidge also uses lance as her main source of ideas for low-stakes projects to work on on the side 

she even lets him help her make them, a privilege gifted to absolutely no one else (except hunk, but lance maintains that he doesn't count bc he's an engineer and makes stuff anyways) 

so far, they have made a (semi) functioning hoverboard, lightsabers (they can't hurt people, tho, much to pidge's disappointment), and a grappling hook

their most recent project is trying to figure out how to recreate spider-man's web shooters 

lance: i need to be spider-man, pidge. i was born to be spider-man. i can feel it. 

pidge: y'know lance that's actually super interesting, because I distinctly remember that spider-man actually made his own web shooters, he didn't just sit on the counter and watch as his friend did all the work 

lance: …

pidge's laptop has a bunch of kinds of entertainment downloaded onto it - music, movies, like three tv shows - and once lance learns this he refuses to let it go until he gets her to agree to watch something with him

one of the shows she has just so happens to be criminal minds. lance clings to this like his life depends on it 

lance, over comms: hey baby girl i need you to work me some magic 

pidge, trying to hack into a galra base: leandro martin mcclain I swear to god I am going to release your location to every sentry on this ship and I am going to watch them kill you over these security cameras and I am going to laugh 

needless to say, they make fun of eachother a lot 

every day. about everything. 

lance, dropping a spoon on the floor at breakfast: :/

pidge: lmao look at you. outstanding coordination. they really should've taught you how to juggle at clown school 

lance: first of all fuck you, second of all it was called performer's camp and i bet they wouldn't even let you in

in true sibling fashion, they never let eachother forget anything embarrassing. no matter what. 

pidge: (is quiet for more than three minutes) 

lance: hey remember that time at the garrison when a pretty girl asked if she could borrow a pencil and you panicked and said you didn't have any because you can't spell

pidge: I'm telling shiro on you that was one time- 

however, despite all of their teasing, they really do care about each other a lot

pidge is the first to hug lance when he steps out of the healing pods, and lance will bend over backwards to cheer pidge up on a bad day 

sometimes literally. never tell your found family siblings that you're a trained acrobat, kids.

lance organises little sleepovers with allura for days when pidge is feeling particularly dysphoric, so they can do traditionally "girly" things like paint their nails and put on makeup 

pidge doesn't usually do that sort of thing on a regular day, so it's kind of like a nice reminder that she's allowed to be feminine if she wants to be

originally a rule of these sleepovers was that everyone had to do one thing that pidge asked for before the night ended, but they had to scrap that rule after… complications, in one of lance's dares 

(in defense of allura, it had been over 10,000 years since she had her ears pierced, and it's not like she could see what the (professional) beautician was doing at the time, so really the fact lance ended up in a healing pod with an ear infection wasn't even her fault. the piercings do suit him, tho, so she maintains she did a very good job regardless)

the three of them usually end up cuddling in a little pile when they finally go to sleep 

lance has a sixth sense about knowing which bodily function pidge is neglecting at any given time 

he calls it his Big Brother Eye, and only realised he had inadvertently made a book reference when shiro praised him for his culture 

lance: big brother sees everything, pidgeon

shiro: oh, you've read 1984, lance? 

lance: um. is that like an album or something. 

anyways, lance tends to make frequent stops to pidge's room and/or lab to remind her to eat, drink, sleep, etc. sometimes all three at once but only in emergencies. 

pidge rarely actually wants to take a break, tho, so lance channels his best "my sister had kids when i was ten and i have been bargaining with small children for almost a decade" voice to convince her to leave 

lance: okay birdie, i know the coffee tastes good, but y'know what would taste even better? a sandwich. maybe even some ice cream. you feel like ice cream today kiddo? 

pidge, hopped up on three days of no sleep and expired space coffee coran thought it would be safe to give her: (stares directly into lance's eyes) where are you

lance and pidge both get the most homesick out of the team, so sometimes they'll just chill together in silence for a while. lance reminds pidge of her brother, and pidge reminds lance of one of his sisters, so their company is like an extra bit of comfort. they help each other a lot when it gets really difficult 

my askbox is still very much open for requests, btw, so if anyone has any ideas feel free to send them in!

[horrorslashergirl]

The Crack of the Past. A Hacker Fic

WARNING: 18+ ANGSTY AND SENSITIVE THEMES AHEAD. DISTURBING THOUGHTS OF A CERTAIN CHARACTER.

It was earlier in the morning and the Rivera residence was very quiet, the father of the family was like 90% of the time at work, because when you work for the New York Police, you don't really get too many free days and the mother of the house? Like always.... absent. That left Xander to have all the time and privacy to do his work.

Sitting at the table in the kitchen with the laptop in front of him, his headphones around his neck, grey eyes were focused on the screen; grey eyes narrowing, a glint of victory in them as he looked at the man in a hotel room with a girl who was probably half his age. The said man had an average company in New York City and had a habit of telling his wife that he had to do 'extra hours', these extra hours of work happening into luxurious hotel rooms.

Xander couldn't believe what an idiot this man was, leaving his laptop open and turned on; hacking into the webcam was a piece of cake, and recording everything that was happening even easier. Now all the 'Hacker' had to do was sit back and wait for them to finish then send this old geezer an anonymous email of how he knew his dirty secret and how his wife will find out about it if he won't send 20,000$ into the bitcoin wallet.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Xander closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the sleepless night get to him a little.

"What are you doing?" the voice of his sister broke his train of thoughts for a bit, but he still didn't open his eyes.

"Nothing interesting like always." Xander simply replied, taking another sip of his coffee, basking into the bittersweet taste that runs through his system.

Not hearing Chloe say anything, grey eyes looked up, only to widen slightly as he took into the tears-filled eyes of his sister, tears that slowly run down her rosy cheeks. This image made Xander swallow hard, feeling like he was swallowing acidic needles and he could only guess what was the cause of this situation with his little sister.

"Mom didn't come to my birthday party." Chloe's choked-out voice made Xander's jaw tense, running his fingers through his spikey black hair, he didn't know what to say.

Chloe was the sensitive and dreamy sibling, while Xander was the logical and realistic one. Yesterday night it was Chloe's birthday and he had expected for their 'whore' of a mother to not come because he was busy with that asshole who could give her more into the materialistic department than their father.

"Why, big brother? Why isn't she coming back?" the little girl asked him, her bottom lip trembling, her long black hair coming in front of her face, hiding her shiny blue eyes, eyes that didn't sparkle like they used to.

"People change, Chloe." That was what Xander could say, without sounding like a complete detached asshole, only for his sister he would be like this, more diplomatic.

"But why?" another why he couldn't find a proper answer for the soft-spoken girl.

Not knowing what to say, Xander opened his arms and gave her a soft look.

"Come here." he whispered, making his little sister jump into his arms and bury her face into his chest, squeezing him tightly, like she was afraid he would disappear too.

Holding his sister, his grey eyes looked at the screen of his laptop, Chloe's back turned to the screen, Xander read over the new email he received.

'The online drug store is a success. I know you have a good drug provider, but don't you want to grow up on the scale? I am willing to make you an offer you won't be able to refuse Blue Rain.' -NarcoManiacs

Closing his laptop, Xander held Chloe close to his chest, rocking her back and forth like she was a baby, and he remembered the first time he saw her when he found out he was gonna be a big brother. They were better days back then.

When their parents were happy together and nothing seemed that it would change and that scared Xander now more; people change so much. Families broke apart, friendships and relationships aren't eternal and can vanish in a blink of an eye. He wondered what was the point? What was the point of falling in love? Only to be thrown away later when the feelings burn to ashes?

"I'm scared, brother." Chloe sobbed, her small body shaking in his lap and Xander rested his chin on top of her head, shushing and rubbing her back softly, trying to be the rock of this family that wasn't a family any longer.

"We have to go to school." he simply spoke, making his sister pull away, rubbing any more tears from her eyes, she nodded, trying to stay strong, but it was obvious she was slowly breaking, like a porcelain doll to be crushed into the heavy boot of reality.

Running his fingers through her long, lustrous, and thick hair, trying to detangle it, he gazed into her eyes.

"Want me to put your hair into two pigtails?" Xander asked his sister, who gave him a small smile, nodding, getting off his lap, and bringing him a comb and a few hair bands.

Xander remembered how his mother used to do his sister's hair, and he had to swallow the lump forming in his throat, feeling like a vein was gonna explode into his head, his temper starting to boil, getting into overdrive, but he forced himself to stay calm and collected.

'The nerve of that fucking slut... Leaving just like that... Couldn't keep her legs closed even if her life depended on it.' Xander thought with pure hate, his fingers twitching as he brushed Chloe's hair, a deep dark need to choke the life out of his mother overcoming him.

These kinds of thoughts had plagued his mind for a while and with each day they got more intense; a child should feel love and warmness for their mother, but Xander only felt pure rage for the one that gave him life, but it wasn't enough to make him forgive her.

100 men could rape her and Xander would never feel a glimpse of remorse or sadness for that woman.

In his grey eyes that slowly started to belong to a madman, that woman could drop fucking dead.

"All done." Xander said, putting the comb down on the table. Chole turned around to smile wide at him, kissing his forehead and hugging him tight.

"Thank you, Xander... Thank you for being here with me." she said, her long ash pigtail bouncing with every move.

"Anytime, little snail." Xander said with a smirk, making Chloe stick her tongue out at him.

"Go upstairs and get ready for school... I am gonna take you there." he told his sister, making her nod eagerly and hurry upstairs, leaving Xander all alone in the kitchen.

Sighing, he took a sip of his almost finished coffee, when a notification sound pulled him out of his thoughts. Opening his laptop, the black-haired male read over another message.

'I am talking about making this online drug store one of the biggest in USA... and maybe internationally in Europe.' -NarcoManiacs

Cracking his neck and knuckles, Xander took a deep breath.

'I am listening.' -BlueRain

[ficforce]

Obi Relationship Alphabet

Reader is a F!Nurse

A- Activity (What is their favourite activity to do with you.)

Obi and Y/N are very busy with their jobs, they’re both constantly on call and deal with tense situations all the time.

They really enjoy some downtime, Y/N has shift work rather than the 24/7 work pattern the Fire Force has, so she often goes to Obi and they chill out in the rec room. It can be something as simple as putting on a movie or even going for a run together… providing Obi gives her a foot rub later.

B- Beginnings (How do they act at the beginning of a relationship)

It was professional at first, communicating at the scene of an Infernal to protect the public and make it as painless as they could.

There was an instant attraction. Obi noticed her compassion first and Y/N adored how he tried to give comfort to the ones left behind. Obi’s not great at speaking to people and he fumbled a lot, he tripped over his words and got bashful easily. Y/N thought it was adorable that a big man like him was so cute.

It took them a long time to find time to go on their first date but they were sickly sweet with each other.

C- Communication (Are they good communicators? How do they normally talk about their problems or solve issues)

Once Obi got over his bashfulness he found it easy to talk to Y/N. She was a good listener and always seemed to know what to say to help him work through a problem. She never made him feel stupid like Princess Hibana could.

When Y/N gets exhausted from work she can get emotional and Obi is a brilliant soundboard for her to talk to. He gets her completely but doesn’t tell her to stop complaining. Everyone needs to deflate every now and then - Even him.

D- Drunk (What are they like when they’re drunk)

Hilarious.

Together they’re disgustingly cute, nose kisses, cuddles, showing off for each other and the dreaded cute talk.

If Obi is drunk then he becomes a cuddle, he wants to show off and he wants everyone to be enthusiastic and get ripped with him. Y/N can usually distract him but he’s really heavy and if he passes out there’s not much she can do.

If Y/N is drunk she gets a bit of a handful, she treats everyone like a kid and tries to look after them all, even if she’s fall down drunk, she’ll usually be cuddling someone. She’ll take almost any dare and Obi usually ends up fireman lifting her out of there to get her sobered up.

E- Emergency (How are they in emergency situations? You get hurt, they get hurt, someone is dying etc..)

Their lives revolve around emergency situations. They’re cool and calm whilst keeping their compassion. When it comes to each other it goes out the window.

They can’t breathe, they have a moment of sheer panic where they just don’t know what to do. They have to almost forget that this is the person they love most in the world and treat them like any stranger.

Afterwards, they won’t be apart for a second.

F- Free Spot (I’ll give you any headcanon I come up with)

Obi used to go to her ambulance with pathetic little injuries just so he could talk to her.

G- Gifts (What kind of gifts do they give? What kind of gifts do they get?)

They’re not really big gift-givers. They prefer time together.

Y/N likes to bring him food he likes and she’ll gift him with professional massages and physio to make sure he doesn’t overwork his muscles.

Y/N’s really into going out to parks, experience days and food. Obi will use his whole days off to take her somewhere fun and won’t let her pay for a thing - he’s got everything planned.

He tries to take her out to different street food places often.

H- Hugs (How do they show affection/cuddle)

Whilst on duty they are professional, they might have a few private conversations and check-in with one another but that’s it.

Off duty and in public they’re obviously together but don’t overdo it. Y/N likes to hold hands or he’ll put his arm around her shoulder/waist. They will kiss but chastely, nothing too much.

Off duty in front of team 8 is similar to public but there’s more nuzzling and cuddling.

In private… well, that’s not your business.

I- Irritation (What is something that irritates them? How do they show their irritation?)

They both get irritated but try not to take it out on others.

Obi will train harder and snap at people.

Y/N has an ‘irritated expression’ and people can literally feel it rolling off her… best leave her to Obi.

J- Jackpot (How would they spend their winnings if they won the lottery?)

With the world the way it is, they’d take what they needed and use the rest to help victims of Combustion.

K- Kryptonite (What is their ultimate weakness?)

They care more about others than themselves.

One day they’ll go too far

L- Laughter (What makes them laugh?)

Each other, other people, dumb little things.

M- Morning ( How do they wake up in the morning? Are they a morning person or a morning grouch?)

Because of his bodybuilding, Obi doesn’t sleep very well, he’s always pumped up and has to keep his carbs up. He’s up and ready to go.

Y/N loves to sleep when she can, she’s usually exhausted and collapses in bed, mornings are the worst!

She’s groggy and a little grumpy until she’s awake enough.

On rare occasions where she stays over, Obi will stay in bed to hold her until he literally can’t be still anymore. He’ll let her know he’s going and smile as she grumbles then goes back to sleep.

He never rushes her in the morning… she’s been taking shooting lessons from Hinawa.

N- Needy (When do they feel particularly needy? How do they show it?)

Obi is needy when he’s feeling ill, it’s rare but he behaves like a little kid and wants Y/N to mother him.

Y/N’s needy in the morning, she wants cuddles and is just useless without her Captain.

O- Oasis (Where is their happy place? Where would they go if they didn’t have anything holding them back?)

Somewhere quiet, maybe out in the country or up a mountain…?

P- Pain (How do they handle pain? How do they handle when you are in pain?)

Obi gets hurt often and he brushes it off, Y/N hates it, she wants to make him comfortable and will look after him if she can.

Y/N isn’t a wimp but she does cry when she’s in pain. Obi hates it, he wants to make it stop but he doesn’t really know how. He feels guilty that she’s hurting.

Q- Quote (What’s a quote that fits them and your relationship)

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

― Lao Tzu

R- Reunion (How do they celebrate seeing you after a long time of being apart)

They can sometimes go weeks without seeing each other, it depended on their schedules.

They will head out, recently they like to visit Asakusa in the evening, the street food is great and Company 7 doesn’t mind putting them up.

S- Stress (What stresses them out? How do deal with stress and how do they relieve it?)

Life. Work… It’s really stressful.

Downtime is important.

Obi works Stress out and Y/N sleeps it off.

T- Terror (What are they afraid of?)

Failing.

Y/N takes it really hard when she can’t save a life

Obi is the same.

U- Unique (What is a quirk that is unique to them?)

They always have time for others.

V- Violence (Do they fight a lot? Are they a good fighter? What is their fighting style?)

They don’t fight physically. Sometimes they argue about the other taking time off and that they work too hard but that’s about it.

W- Wow (What do you do that really surprises them? What do you do that they really like?)

Hinawa has told me that Obi and Y/N are always awed by each other - it’s sickening.

X- (Explicit headcanon. For all you degenerates)

They’re at it like rabbits, they’ve had sex all over the Company 8 building and been caught a few times. Y/N loves how he can fuck her to within an inch of her life whilst his words and hands and kisses somehow remain soft and loving.

Y- Yucky (Is there something that grosses them out so badly that they can’t deal with it?)

Y/N would like Obi to stop exercising in the same t-shirt. He’ll put it on clean, sweat in it, take a shower, then when he goes to train again later puts on the old sweaty thing. It gets washed at the end of everyday but for Sol’s sake, Obi, just put a clean one on!

Z- ZZZ’s (What are their sleeping habits? Both with and without you)

Together they like to cuddle up.

Alone, Y/N cuddles a firm body pillow as a substitute.

Alone, Obi doesn’t sleep as well.

[dimensionhoppinghybrids]

"Okay, so. To give a bit of an explanation to the Gryphonian cast system, let me give you a crash course on how my homeworld is fucked up." Abe said as he cleared his throat a little.

"Suffice to say, we have to grow up real quick if we want to survive." He stated bluntly. "In my homeworld, you have different clans. There are the big clans, medium clans, then small clans, and even then, you have the cast system of what you know as royalty. My father as an example, was royalty. He was the clan leader of the biggest clan you could find of warriors, and my father earned that through brutal conquest of other clans. Hell, one of his wives was a trophy from a previous conquest. She hated everyone and for good reason."

Abe gave a grunt, then shook his head. "But anyway, let me give you the daily life of a grunt. We are since we are hatched, conditioned to form certain roles depending on the clan and cast. As warriors in my clan, you were taught how to be a soldier. We were conditioned to be soldiers since we hatched. It was to instill loyalty to our clan, and be grateful they take care of us. Up to the age of 10, we, the males, are then sent to be Apprentices and runners for companies, platoons, all of that. The best gig you can get is with the admirals, generals, what have you. Because those are cushy jobs. They are more cutthroat then being a glorified messenger is, but you get good food if you do a good job. Depending on the company or platoon, you're lucky to get a seat and a meal of the gruel they serve the grunts. No ifs or buts. Its why I eat anything I can get my hands on, because I never know when my next meal comes. Its a survival instinct ingrained after many nights of going to bed with a stomach so empty I was in horrible pain." Abe remarked. "Hunger is a slow, horrible killer." He said, then shook his head.

"Right. As an apprentice/runner. You are tasked with not only doing errands, but also clean, stow, fold and press guns and uniforms. You do menial labor until around 15. And trust me, that's the only things you do if you're lucky. Let's just say, sometimes after a fight, the unlucky ones went to get back what others lost in death. In no man's land." He said in a sour tone. "Not everyone made it back." He growled.

"When you get to 13, your training starts proper and you become a soldier. There you learn basic training, skills and survival, not to mention maintenance on your gear. Then at 15 or so, you're pretty much ready to deploy and become one of the rank and file." He said with a shrug.

"Never said that I lived in a particularly happy planet."