#just catching up on the last few episodes

[eirenical]

OK I'm utterly fascinated with the implications of this. We know that Li Lianhua is actually a consummate liar when he wants to be. I mean, we joke about how he bullshits people in ways that are super obvious, but the man existed in the jianghu for 10 years pulling all kinds of identity shenanigans and no one ever questioned it. So why WOULDN'T he pretend to be unconscious when he's vulnerable but doesn't want to be? I argue that he would. And I agree that this is partly coming from pride, because that part of Li Xiangyi never fully laid down and died, but I think part of it is also coming from Li Lianhua's hypervigilant need to know what's going on at all times so he can best react to it/plan around it. Because now that he doesn't have Li XIangyi's power, he needs as much information as he can get at all times to use Li Lianhua's greatest ability to its full potential: his cunning mind.

Just a few episodes earlier (episode 30), we have Fang Duobing carrying Li Lianhua away from the cave where they confronted Nioutou Mamian. And I had to actually slow down the playback to catch this because it really looks like he's resting his chin on Fang Duobing's shoulder for the entire conversation with Yun Biqiu.

But from the way Li Lianhua's head bobs in several places during that scene, you can see that he's actually not resting his head on Fang Duobing. He's keeping it JUST above Fang Duobing's shoulder with his upper back and shoulders just rigid enough to keep it from coming down, even when Fang Duobing walks off.

But at the very very end of this confrontation, we see a close up of that walking away, focused on Li Lianhua. The point of this shot is for Yun Biqiu to notice the darkened veins at Li Lianhua's neck and conclude that he, like Li Xiangyi, was poisoned by Bicha Poison. And Li Lianhua is definitively resting his head on Fang Duobing's shoulder:

There are a few things I can think of to explain this:

Li Lianhua, knowing that the confrontation is over and he's temporarily safe in Fang Duobing's care, may have just let go and dropped his head, content to fall fully unconscious at last.

This could be Yun Biqiu just looking more closely than we can from the other wider angle and seeing something we didn't.

This could be Yun Biqiu's reconstruction of what he saw. It certainly acts like a flash of memory, the way it's been cut. And his memory might not be perfect. He could be supplying Li Lianhua's chin resting on Fang Duobing's shoulder because he expects it to be there.

(Of course it's also just possible that the people cutting the scene didn't realize that Cheng Yi wasn't actually resting his chin on Zeng Shunxi's shoulder in those other bits of the scene when they filmed the close up. XD)

No matter what it is, it says something interesting about either Cheng Yi's acting choices, Yun Biqiu's assumptions, or Li Lianhua's character for sure. ^_^

Li Lianhua not putting his head against fdb's neck is such an interesting detail to me bc cheng yi himself is a stickler for realism and detail (eg in IS when his character passed out he made sure not to use his arm to cushion his fall), so unless llh was in fact not fully unconscious during scene, there's nothing else that can explain why he isn't fully limp against fdb

And I'm more inclined to believe that llh has some semblance of consciousness here, half bc medically I don't think llh would actually be in a full in coma during this scene, and half bc despite everything, llh still has lxy's pride engraved in his bones. He might be too weak to stand or even talk at the moment, but there's some part of him that's too proud to accept having to fully lean on and rely on someone, a mentality that extends even to the very last moments of the show where he'd rather run off and die on his own than have people who care about him watch him fully loose his senses and mind. So hence, llh being unwilling to go fully limp and rest his head against fdb's shoulder, because he wants as much independence and pride in a way as he possibly can in this situation, even if it's just holding his head up by his own will

[farfromstrange]

(Spoilers for IWTV S2)

Daniel Malloy saying, “Fuck man, are you the zodiac killer?” is the funniest line I’ve ever heard just because of the stoned-off-his-ass delivery, followed closely by Claudia’s, “But if he can’t take you ballroom dancing and tell you you’re pretty, to hell with him, is that it?” Obviously.

Through all the drama, the writing for this show is fucking hilarious.

Also using it as writing inspiration because the madness is outstanding, and I can definitely use that when I get the time to actually write.

[im-still-watching-anime]

i am officially, FINALLY all caught up again in both the manga and the anime for bsd and OH BOY there are thoughts and opinions but also WHO CARES because my tags are finally FREE to be unfiltered

[piratefalls]

HOW'S IT FEEL TO WIN THIS HARD

[running-in-the-dark]

ooh cool, Hank Green on Sad Boyz! nice.

[nothingweirdhere]

i’m FINALLY caught up & watching the new season of sunny and so far i’m really liking it

[noxtivagus]

i've been listening to more of arknights' ost n i love it so much

[jamiethebee]

My favorite part of the ending of MHA is going to all the bnha bloggers who specifically write and/or do analysis about it

As I get the energy to deal with it I keep going to different blogs and just.... Seeing how they're coping

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

"she didnt take much notice of you last time" theyre so fucking cute

[muffinlance]

Hi ! prompt idea : What if Zuko was armed during the first episode and was stranded with the water tribe while the avatar left with Katara and Sokka, Iroh on his trail for white lotus reasons.

Oh we are going to have us some FUN with "stranded with the water tribe", say no more.

---

Zuko was dripping, and steaming, and staring down two dozen women and their gaggle of small children, plus that old not-the-Avatar crone from earlier. They were all cowering away from him. Which was--

Good. It was good. If they were cowering, then they hadn’t noticed how steam was not flames. He wasn’t sure he could make flames, not after the arctic water he’d landed in, with that last sight of the Avatar glowing; not after surfacing under the ice pack, after swimming, after kicking slamming breaking through and his ship was gone and there was only ocean all around and

and he’d made it back to this pathetic little camp of the Southern Water Tribe, because that was the only place he knew for sure would have shelter, and he wasn’t going to die just because they were all staring at him, even if felt like he would.

Even if the old not-the-Avatar woman could probably take him, right now. But she didn’t know that.

Zuko pulled himself up, taller than her by at least a few inches, and blew steam from his nose.

“I am commandeering one of your huts,” he said. And added, because Uncle said even a prince should be gracious: “You may choose which one.”

---

She choose her own.

...The only one without children that flames might scar, or younger women to catch a soldier’s interests.

Zuko sat by her fire and determinedly started struggling out of his wet clothes and she was still in here with him--

Zuko pulled one of her animal pelts over himself, and finished fighting off his clothes. When he stuck his head back out, cheeks still reddened from what was obviously the cold, she dropped a parka on his head.

“Dry clothes, Your Highness,” she said.

The parka was much bigger than he was. He fell asleep hoping that the camp’s men were on a long, long hunting trip.

---

He woke up again. Kanna tucked her favorite ulu knife away, newly sharpened, and stopped contemplating the alternative.

---

“I am commandeering a ship,” he said.

The crone led him across the village, all twenty paces of it, to a row of canoes.

“Take whichever one you want,” she said. “Will you need help getting it to the water?”

Zuko looked at the canoes. Looked at the ocean. Watched a leopard seal, easily the size of the largest canoe, dozing just past the ice his own ship had broken through the day before. It was frozen again, a great icy arrow pointing from the waves to the village, snow already starting to cover it over.

Beyond was blue sky and gray ocean and white ice, floating in blocks like stepping stones, like boulders, like cliffsides.

There wasn’t even a hint of gray steel, or smoke. Or any land, besides what they were standing on.

He looked down at the canoes again. Somehow, they seemed even smaller.

“I, uh,” Zuko cleared his throat. “I’ll require supplies. Before I go.”

---

They... did not have supplies. Not extra ones. This didn’t stop them from trying to give him supplies, food and blankets and anything else he could think to ask for. But each blanket was a pelt hunted by someone’s grandfather, had been inked with images and stories by someone’s mother, was the favorite of someone’s husband or brother or uncle or cousin--

They couldn’t go to the nearest market to replace things, here.

And when they talked about food, about what they could spare, they kept sneaking glances to their children, who were sneaking glances at Zuko from the huts, sticking their heads just over the snowy ledges like their fur-trimmed hoods would hide them. Their mothers and aunts shooed them away, and they crept back, like barnacle-crabs. Zuko glared, and they disappeared.

“When are your men coming back?” he asked. “They’re hunting, aren’t they?”

Oh. So that was what they looked like, when they weren’t trying to hide their hate.

---

Zuko wrapped himself up in the same blanket that night. It was printed inside with fine lines and images, telling a story he didn’t know. He wondered whose favorite it was.

---

Kanna wondered how quickly he’d wake—if he’d wake—if she built the fire up with wet driftwood and tundra grass, if she had one of the younger girls boost up a child to plug the air hole, if she let the smoke draw its own blanket down over this fire child.

---

It was hard to know when to wake up, because the sun never set. So everyone was up before him, and they all had spears and clubs and—and nets, and trap lines, and snow googles with their single slat to protect the eyes from snow blindness. Zuko had seen those once, at the Ember Island Museum of Ethnography, where they’d gone when it was too rainy for anything more exciting.

Oh. They were going hunting.

“Give me that,” Zuko said, and took a spear.

The women looked at him. One of them adjusted her googles.

“I can hunt,” he scowled.

He did not, in fact, know how to hunt.

---

“Give me that,” the Fire Prince said, and Kanna almost, almost gave him her ulu. Humans, like most animals, had an artery in their legs that would bleed them quick enough.

She kept skinning the rabbit-mink one of the women had snared.

“I can help,” he said, with less grace than most of their toddlers. Likely with the skinning skills of a toddler, too. She wasn’t going to let their unwanted visitor ruin a perfectly good pelt.

“Chop the meat,” she said, and gave him a different knife. “It’s dinner.”

“...This is really sharp,” he said a moment later, looking at the knife with some surprise.

“Is it,” said Kanna.

---

Things the Fire Prince was convinced he could do: hunt (until he realized he couldn’t tell the tracks of a rabbit-mink from a leopard-rabbit apart); spear fish (at least he could dry himself); pack snow for an igloo (frustrated princes ran hot); ice fish (the prince was a problem that kept coming close to solving itself).

Things the Fire Prince could actually do: mince meat, increasingly finely; gather berries and herbs, once he stopped trying to crush them; dig roots, under toddler supervision; mend nets, after the intermediary step of learning to braid hair loopies.

“Can’t I take him ice fishing again?” asked one of the women, as she watched Prince Zuko put as much apparent concentration into braiding her daughter’s hair as his people had into exterminating hers.

“Wait,” said another woman, sitting up straight. “Wait wait wait. I just had an idea.”

---

Three words: Infinite. Hot. Water.

---

Summer was coming to an end. The sun actually set, now, and the night was getting longer, and colder. The salmon-otter nets were mended and ready. The smoking racks were still full of cod-lemmings. The children were all a little older, the women all a little more used to doing both halves of their tribes’ chores; a little more used to not watching the horizon, waiting for help to come.

The Fire Prince was staring at the canoes again.

“Are you actually going to try leaving in one of those?” Kanna asked.

“...No.”

“Come on, then; someone needs to watch the kids while the women are hunting.”

She didn’t leave him alone with them, of course. But she could have.

---

Elsewhere, the war continued.

The moon turned red, for a moment none could sleep through; they did not learn why.

The comet came and went, leaving their castaway prince laying on the beach, his breath fogging up into the night sky above him, as the energy crashed from his system as quickly as it had come. Above, lights began to dance in the sky; Zuko pulled his hood up, so none of those spirits—children, dead too soon—got any ideas about kicking his head off to be their ball.

The war had ended. The world didn’t feel any different; no one in the south would know until spring came again.

---

Suffice it to say, Sokka and Katara were not prepared for this particular homecoming.

[vrisbian]

I agreed with Suvi much more, that Ame could have waited. I was cringing because beyond anything else its so disrespectful and they are a community prepping for actual dangers. If Ame could just wait or actually explained- then they could have left together and without literally burning this bridge.

It honestly reminded me of realization Ame has after talking to Mr Callum. Ame doesn’t realize how fundamentally different she sees and is willing to engage with the world, and can make people uncomfortable in her independent of social rules will. Its a skill she needed to learn growing up, but she grew up with a hundreds of years old Witch who was more focused on honing Ame’s magic and wisdom in dealing with more abstract matters. We saw how she was excluded from her birth family and from daily town life, she was (at best) unnerving but respected but mostly isolated. She fundamentally has a different sense of time, order, and sense then other people. And even though she *values* community doesn’t actually know well how to *engage* with the trappings of society. These are skills she really has to learn.

I know I’ve been all ‘Empire is bad and Steel is, in essence, a cop’ but I’m with Suvi on this one - and I know Ame believes that she is under an existential threat but she has insta travel to the meeting place available! I know she’d /like/ to go to Toma first, but why not stay a few more hours and gather whatever info Steel has??

[fabled-fiction]

Cregan Stark x Targaryen daughter of Rhaenyra

I don’t have a deep plot but I do have an idea. What if reader takes the place of Jace and flies to encourage Cregan like in the recent episode and he’s mesmerized by her beauty? 👀 Something along those lines — feel free to add or change it! ☺️ Thanks!

Snowflakes, Stolen Looks, and Beating Hearts

(Cregan Stark x Strong!Reader)

Summary: When you are sent with your brother Jacaerys to meet up with the Lord in the North, Cregan Stark, some feeling being to make the both of you light headed and forget just exactly what duty calls from the both of you. 

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: MAYBE POSSIBLE SPOILER ISH FOR EP 1. Yearning, possible OOC for Cregan (love does things to a man can you blame him??), Use of (Y/N)

A/N: This took…too long to write. I wanted to make this a yearning lovesick-y fic of Cregan that I have been DYING for and kept mulling over all the details. BUT ALAS it is here, I hope it filled your request and you all enjoy!!

You never thought that you would see snow.

You always wished to see it, having heard of its beauty. Ice falling from the sky in beautifully small flakes that seemed to be sewn together by the gods.

Looking at the palm of your hand, you smiled as you studied the pattern of the snowflake. Its exquisite beauty only lasting mere seconds as it began to melt into the valleys of your skin. A small frown made its way in place of your smile as you temporarily mourned the flake, before you wiped your hand on your cloak.

To think this place was blanketed in such beauty for the entire year.

Just ahead, Jace took a glance over his shoulder as he stared at the spectacle that was you. You stood next to your dragon, still as ever letting the snow collect on your hair and shoulders. You looked statue-esque as you continued to catch snowflakes, admiring them before they met their inevitable fate. Lost in your own world as you took a moment to forget about everything that had been plaguing you for the past few months.

He wished he could do the same, even for just a moment. Arriving at Winterfell, had him feeling on edge. For his whole life Jacaerys had protected you, feeling it was his duty to make sure nothing ever hurt you. The both of you, him being the first son of Queen Rhaenyra and you the first and only daughter, had grown up to know the true meaning of duty. This alone had bonded the two of you practically to the hip, it did not matter that you were older than him.

Looking back at you, he smiled as he saw how much snow had collected on your hair…people could mistake you for a “true” Targaryen…

That alone reminded him of the reason they were there.

“(Y/N)...c’mon we mustn't be even more late than we already are to meet with Lord Stark. Nightfall will be upon us yet…”

He watched as you finally looked up from the palm of your hand and sighed. Shaking the snow off of your head and shoulders, you rushed to meet his pace.

“I must say, I quite like this cold. It's much better than the humidity we face on Dragonstone.”

This earned a chuckle from Jacaerys. “Is that what you think of now? Not what to say to Lord Stark? What words to sew together to ensure he is our ally?”

“I do not need to take such action. Diplomacy comes easy to me. Besides, the Starks are known to be loyal to a fault.”

That much was true. Jace wasn’t entirely sure why he felt such anxiety with this meeting. It could have been that the simple act of ensuring allyship meant that war was truly upon your house. Or perhaps it could have simply just been that he did not wish to look a fool aside you as you expertly made your way through conversation with Lord Stark despite this being your first meeting. Since the both of you were small you had a knack for persuading people with your words. The Silver Tongued Dragon, you had been known as not long after this talent was found out.

Yes, he had nothing to fear. This would all go smoothly.

“Lord Stark, Prince Jacaeyrs Velaryon and Princess (Y/N) Velaryon of House Velaryon have arrived.”

Cregan nodded to the squire, straightening his cloak as he strapped Ice to his back.

This meeting in particular was one he was not too entirely worried about. House Stark had bent the knee to King Visery’s when he named his daughter as heir to the iron throne. This matter had been in the back of Cregan’s mind, with many more pressing matters being his top priority. He supposed that is why he often did not make the best first impressions, as his priorities were not that of the common list that many found themselves concerned with. He did not take an immediate interest in the pursuit of heirs or of ensuring that the house had a formidable reputation. Duty was his priority.

This meeting was a matter of formality to him. To ensure that he would stand behind Queen Rhanerya and support her in whatever way he could, without crippling the defenses on the Wall.

His hands reached back to tie his hair halfway up, his eyes focusing on the black ice of the steps. As his fingers struggled to snap the band around, he finally looked up to meet the faces of the two young dragons.

When his eyes met yours, everything seemed to stop.

It was as if the snows knew to freeze this moment over, so he could have the chance to meet your eye.

Cregan Stark had heard of the beauty of the old Valyria. He listened to the stories men shared of the silver haired house that brought out the darkest of temptations of man. How their men and women held a grace about them that had wives and husbands lust for just the touch of their hand on theirs.

As he looked at you, he felt that those stories were watered down backswill of a drunkard. There was not a word within the all known language of the Seven Kingdoms that could describe what he felt in this moment as he had the fortune to lay his eye upon you. He felt his grip on the banister tighten as he took in the sight of you. You, who looked up at him with the most mesmerizing beautiful eyes that only looked at him. 

It wasn't until he saw the rise and fall of your own chest did he remember to breathe.

“Lord Stark, It's an honor to make your acquaintance.”

Looking over at your brother, Cregan cleared his throat as he made his way down the stairs to properly shake his hand.

“The honor is all mine, to host the both of you here. My apologies for the weather, but it is the North.”

His accent stuck out to you. On Dragonstone and even throughout the Keep, when you had stayed there once upon a time, people often shrouded themselves in uppity falsehoods. Either to seem as if they were meant to truly walk amongst you, or to be someone entirely different from whence they came. It was part of the reason why you were so glad to have fled to Dragonstone, there were not as many falsehoods there.

So to see Cregan Stark have no fear in brandishing his weaponry, and speak to you in the laced tongue of the North was refreshing. You were drawn to the way he felt as if the niceties of royalty were second thought. As if the both of you could afford to toss aside pleasantries. It made you smile.

There was something else to be said about the Northerner. Just the way he stood before the both of you alone was enough action to intrigue you.

“Lady Velaryon, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

When his hand enveloped yours, you felt your breath catch in your throat. His eyes did not leave yours, as he lifted your knuckles to his lips.

“I wish it under other circumstances, Lord Stark.”

Giving him a small smile, the two of you stood there eye in eye. He had yet to let go of your hand as the two of you held each other there. When you stood this close to him you were able to get a better look at the man they had named Wolf of the North. Cregan Stark stood before you, dressed in fur and leather, bowing as he held your hand. You couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter as he held your eye. A flurry of grey and blue looked at you, purely you, and you couldn't help but feel as if that's all he wanted to do. Just as you stood there now, feeling consumed by the eye of the storm and wanting nothing more but to throw yourself to the whims of the winds.

“Lord Stark, Is there somewhere more private we could discuss?”

Feeling the hot stare of Jacaerys gaze on you, you regrettably took your hand from Cregan’s grasp. The imprint of his warmth on your skin remained, even through the leather, making you bring your hand to your chest as you bowed your head to him quickly.

Clearing his throat, Cregan looked at Jacaerys with a nod before motioning to the large metal lift.

“ ‘Course, let us talk atop the Wall.”

Jacaery’s held your eye for a moment as the both of you followed the Wolf. His eyes held a question within them as the two of you silently spoke. He had watched that whole scene unfold, having been a bystander to the tension that grew with every second that Cregan held your gaze. You simply rolled your eyes as you shoved him before following the Northerner into the metal cage.

Closing your eyes, you froze for a moment to feel the northern winds run through your hair and cloak. Snowflakes found themselves resting on you again, drawn to the warmth that ran through your Targaryen blood. As the lift brought you higher and higher into the sky, level with where you flew your dragon, it almost felt as if the air in your lungs crystallized.

“So tell me Lord Stark, What is this that falls from the sky and shivers my bones? Is it not still summer throughout the isles of the Seven Kingdoms?”

Cregan was so lost in his jealousy of the snowflakes that rested upon your skin that he almost didn't hear you speak. It wasn't until you had opened your eyes and looked at him through your lashes did he realize you had addressed him.

“This is only a late summer snow, my princess. In the true winter it will cover all you see, any memories you hold of warmth will be forgotten.”

“Sounds..hauntingly beautiful. Whilst this is my first time seeing snow it is my understanding that this is not the first time our ancestors have met here to treat? If I am correct it was the…Conqueror and the King in the North?” 

Jacaerys felt a relief fall over his shoulders as he heard you expertly laced the matter at hand into conversation. His eyes landed on Cregan as he watched the man hang onto every word you spoke. Not once had he looked at Jacaerys after the three of you stepped into the lift. His eyes never left you even before you spoke. He would like to think that it was because of the presence and attention you demanded. He had seen it many a time before, people could not look away from you whenever you entered a room, and their fates were often sealed after you had started to speak.

But, something else lay within his gaze. Jacaerys had seen that look before. The look of total awe and devotion to the other.

It was the same exact look he gave Baela.

“Surely the great Torrhen Stark would have sooner died than bent the knee. Unless of course he believed the Conqueror could bring unity to the Seven Kingdoms?” 

Cregan looked over to Jacaerys with a sigh. This meeting was meant for diplomacy, he had to remind himself of this as he looked to the Prince. He felt a crease grow within his brow as the three of you walked throughout the icy walkways of the top of the wall.

When your hand reached to hold his arm, he felt a fire light in his chest at your touch alone. It was as if you took all his pain and worry, forbidding it from plaguing him. When he took the opportunity to look over at you, he felt the ice in his veins thaw. 

“What my brother is getting at, Lord Stark, is that there is a threat upon the unity to the Seven Kingdoms. One that would tear the realm apart if the men and women who swore an oath to our grandfather do not remember who the rightful heir is. You understand our concerns do you not?”

“Starks do not forget their oaths, my princess…”

Looking at your hand placed on the crook of his elbow, he swallowed as he rested his hand atop yours.

“Can we depend on your men if the time comes that the Hightowers declare war upon our mother’s claim to the throne?”

Looking at Jacaerys, Cregan swallowed. He should not have felt torn, but he did. He needed his men here, to defend the wall from that which dared to plague Westeros. There were forces that lay in wait, that threatened the sanctity of not only the North but the South as well. He did not wish for his duty to falter in this dire time of need. But he had seen the worry in your eye. He knew that you were dependent on the power of the North if your mother’s throne, if you family was meant to remain the next in line. Another part of him wanted to promise whatever he could, whatever you needed just at the drop of the word.

“You must understand my hesitation, my Prince. Whilst I wish for nothing more than to offer you the whole of which the North has to offer, I must keep my army here to defend the Wall. Do you think my ancestors built a seven hundred foot wall to keep out snow and savages?”

As the three of you approached a divet within the wall, all of a sudden a very overwhelming dread filled your stomach. Looking over the edge, you saw nothing but a vast forest, covered in snow. But for some reason, the dragon within you faltered. Every sense you had was screaming at you to back away from the ledge that you took further steps towards. 

“What does it keep out?” Jace asked, as he felt his heart fall in his chest at the sight of you taking a closer step to the edge of the Wall.

“Death.”

You took a moment to look over your shoulder at Cregan once hearing the declaration. You had heard stories about the meeting place that took place here. How when King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne stood in your very spot, their dragons refused to cross the threshold. It made your stomach drop just at the idea of there being something more beyond the wall. That was a thought for another time however.

Both Jace and Cregan watched as you stood still as a statue once more, looking over the land of the North.

“I understand your hesitation to pull your men from the Wall, Lord Stark. It is quite the responsibility you have here,” Taking a step back, you swallowed as you smoothed your hair back. Jace offered you a hand to steady yourself as you took a few steps back from the edge.

“All we ask is that you provide whatever you can when the time comes. In return I personally can promise you’ll have mine when needed.”

Cregan sighed as he looked between the Wall and you. That alone had just sealed his fate, that he truely would give you whatever you needed, especially now knowing that you felt a duty to protect what was his as well. He could see it in your eyes when you looked over that edge. You believe his tales of things that lurked in the dark, just as he believed you when it came to the vile words of treachery.

The both of you would need the other soon enough yet.

“I can offer you thousands of greybeards. They have seen far too many winters, having grown a distaste for the cold. Their skills are well honed, and they can be ready to fight at a moment's notice. They will fight hard for you, like Northerners.”

There was a visible tension that dropped from the both of your and Jace’s shoulders after his words. Your brother rested his hand on your shoulder as you clasped your hands together in front of you. Jace then reached forward to shake Cregan’s hand with both of his.

“Thank you Lord Stark. Your promises will not be forgotten.”

Finding your way beside the both of them, you clapped your hand on both their shoulders with a beaming smile.

“Lets celebrate shall we?”

-

He couldn't take his eyes off you.

You sat across the table, the warmth of the candle light that lit up the meeting hall suiting itself well on your cheeks. You had settled in well at the opposite head of the table, chatting with other Northern women. You were content, from as well as he could tell.

His eyes hadn’t left you since the minute you found yourself in his halls, drinking his wine and eating his food. There was something that stirred in the pits of his stomach as he…provided for you. In the ways of war and also in the niceties of comfort. You had taken well to both, and he planned to bathe in your presence for as long as he could before you took your inevitable departure.

After that he wasn’t sure he would see you again ever.

While he should have been fine with that, as he had told himself a multitude of times that courting and the ways of society were well beyond his interests, something made him sick at the idea of letting you just slip away because of some silly notions he had been telling himself. You had bewitched him at first glance, and as he had taken in more of your presence throughout the day he could rightfully say that you had taken up a space in his mind if not in its entirety. 

His hand gripped his chin tighter at these thoughts alone.

“Lord Stark…” 

Shaking his head, he looked over to see your brother standing beside him.

“My prince, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jace motioned to the chair besides Cregan, sitting down as the Lord motioned him. Taking one last look at you, as you laughed aloud at whatever the person holding your attention had said, he figured he could spare a moment of his attention being somewhere else.

“I just wanted to come by and thank you once again for pledging your support. I know it was not your responsibility to ease my anxieties but you did anyway, and I am grateful for it.”

He gave a curt smile to the prince, turning his body to face him to ensure that he was indeed involved in whatever conversation Jacaerys had meant to begin. However that could not be further from the truth as his mind began to wander.

“A Stark never forgets their oath. I would not be the man I am today had I intended to ever break it. “

“I figured as much. My sister said quite the same thing when we arrived, she being the more faithful one.”

Cregan smiled at the comment, taking another look over to you. You were alone in thought now, whoever you were speaking with having taken your attention for granted no doubt and departing to enjoy the festivities that were about. You were looking out the window, taking in the snow of the North like you had been earlier that day.

“She the smarter of the two of you hmm?” He quipped, smirking as he watched Jace chuckle to himself.

“She is the smartest out of all my siblings I would say. (Y/N) has always been a good judge of character, I don’t think I have ever seen her put her trust into someone who didn’t deserve it.”

His heart jumped at the words Jace bestowed upon him. Somehow knowing that you trusted him, that he was one of the few that could claim to have earned your admiration even within just a few words made him feel stronger in a sense. Is this what men talked about, when they said that the affection of a woman made them feel as if they could move the hills? If this is how he felt just at the mention of your trusting him, he couldn’t help but ponder on how he would feel from being the object of your affections.

“I think that might be one of the main reasons why she hasn’t been courted.”

Cregan froze, feeling himself look over at you once again. For some reason the thought did not run through his mind that your hand could have already been called for. It stirred something in him, knowing that your name was still Velaryon.

Your seat was empty when Cregan looked over again. He saw your silhouette turn the corner quickly, vanishing in a flurry of red and black.

“Enjoy the rest of the meal my prince.” Cregan laid his hand on Jace’s shoulder before making his exit in the same direction that you had.

Jace smiled to himself as he watched the man quickly follow your footsteps with haste, his cloak making a rather dramatic arch at the turn.

There you stood, looking into the sky. You looked as if you were infatuated by the moon herself, lit up only by her beam as snowflakes flitted around you. If it was possible for you to look anymore ethereal Cregan would become devote. You were cast in a halo of moonlight, so entranced that it almost made him guilty for interrupting such an intimate moment.

Looking over your shoulder, he swallowed whatever nerves he was feeling so he could actually have the opportunity to talk with you. But then you smiled at him, and he felt himself grow weak. Part of him wanted to fight against this foreign feeling, the other wanted to bask in it.

“Lord Stark, I hope my leaving didn’t come off as rude. I wanted to enjoy the cold for just a little longer.”

“Not at all. I’m glad you have taken such an interest in what others would consider harsh.”

This got a small hum from you as you held your gloved hand out. “How one could consider this harsh is beyond me.”

Cregan chuckled to himself as he came to stand next to you, watching as you studied the snowflake in your palm.

“Winter is not often kind. The cold and ice have a tendency to turn those away, since it takes so much and gives so little.”

“Fire does the same, yet people hold it in such a high regard. People should do the same with snow.”

Cregan hung onto every word you said, taking this private moment deep within. Hearing you speak so poetically, especially when the topic was anything other than the purpose of which you came. To get a glimpse into who you were, to know the person that was you made him think of a million other questions to ask just to fill out every step it took to understanding you.

He watched you closely as you brought your hand down, and held your arms when you looked up. The cloak you had dawned earlier was nowhere in sight, and if he could recall it had been left behind on your chair in the haste of leaving the room. Cregan was quick to remove his own fur lined cloak, and drape it across your shoulders. It swallowed you, enveloping you in the lingering warmth that was him.

“Thank you, you did not have to.”

“What type of a host would I be if I let you freeze?”

You laughed at his comment, a full laugh, and placed your hand on his bicep. It was still cold, from catching snowflakes, but it warmed him none the less.

“Plus, it looks better on you. The North suits you.”

A flash of blush rested on your cheeks at the comment, and made you tighten the grip on his cloak.

“Thank you, Lord Stark. I do have to say of all the places I’ve been I think I have enjoyed my time here the most.”

With a nod, he clasped his hands behind his back before leaning a little closer to whisper to you.

“Well I hope then that the next time you are here I can show you all that Winterfell has to offer..that is if there is a next time?”

You both had turned to face each other now, your hand still holding his arm as you looked up and only him now. He looked at you the same way the moon did, and you basked in the warmth of him in the same way.

Reaching forward, his hand came to hold a bit of your bang before wiping the snow from it and tucking it behind your ear. His hand came to rest on your cheek, holding the side of your face as the both of you were able to finally really look at each other without the wandering eye of anyone else.

He took his time committing your face to memory, just in case this was truly the last time he would see you. Cregan wanted to make sure his dreams were able to replicate the image of you.

You stood there, doing the same. You were surrounded by him entirely, in scent and sight. This entire afternoon when he wasn’t looking at you, you were looking at him. You could feel this back and forth game of cat and mouse that had played out, but there was a nagging reminder of everything that lead to this meeting and everything that waited after it.

Perhaps you could take this night to bask in something that wasn’t duty.

“I could entertain the thought, only if you could make the trip worthwhile.”

This earned a laugh from the northerner as he looked at you, and his thumb ran under your eye. The feeling off his touch had you feeling drunk off his attention. Oh you were absolutely certain if anyone had seen the two of you in this exact moment there would be many an accusation.

“Oh? And how exactly would I do that my princess?” He mused, looking at you tenderly

Reaching to hold the wrist of the hand that held you, you stroked his wrist and hummed.

“Give me a reason to come back, Cregan Stark. A reason that isn't just snow, or the cold. Something that is more than the North. More than duty.”

He stood there, just staring back into your eyes as he thought of the declaration. To give you a true and proper reason to ride all the way back here, where he was nothing but duty and sacrifice. To give you a part of him that was something else completely. You asked this of him as if it was the easiest thing he could sacrifice in order to see you again.

It should have been a hard request to fill. A question that should have left him tormented when giving the answer.

But somehow his answer was sealed the minute you stepped into view.

“Me…Come back for me.”

In the silent moment between the two of you, all that could be heard was the howl of the wind and the beating of your hearts as they became forever joined with just a touch.

[littlelamy]

Rafe taking care of Reader who goes through a depressive episode. She’s feeling like she is a burden and feels like everyone would be happier with her gone. Maybe things are pretty new between them, only gone on a few dates so she obviously (like most) isn’t going to tell him anything and doesn’t think she matters to a guy she has gone on a few dates with anyway, so she just stops responding to his texts

a/n: thank you for requesting!⭐️ i hope i wrote it appropriately to what you requested 🙂💗part 2 is up!

the first time rafe noticed something was off, it was subtle—just a missed text here and there. maybe a delayed reply. nothing unusual at first. he probably told himself you were busy. everyone has those days where life gets hectic.

but when hours stretched into days and your replies went from short to nonexistent, he started to feel that quiet pull of worry.

“hey, you okay?” he texted the day before, after his third unanswered message.

you saw it pop up on your screen. his name glowed against the darkness of your room, and for a moment, your heart ached with the idea of answering. but then the thought crept in.

he’s just being polite.he barely knows you.he’s probably relieved you stopped answering anyway.

so you let the screen go dark.

you told yourself it didn’t matter. it wasn’t like you two were serious. you’d only gone on a handful of dates, and even though every moment with rafe had been sweet and effortless, there was no way someone like him could actually care.

you’d been wrong about people before.

the weight in your chest had only grown heavier over the past few weeks. even getting out of bed felt impossible some days, let alone pretending to be okay for someone like rafe cameron. so, you didn’t bother. you shut your phone off, buried it under a pillow, and let the world fade into static.

the knock at your door startled you.

at first, you thought it might’ve been a neighbor or a delivery driver, someone just passing through. but then it came again, louder this time, more deliberate.

“y/n?”

you froze, your breath catching as his voice carried through the door.

“it’s rafe.”

you stared at the door like it might open on its own. the last thing you wanted was to face him, especially like this. but hearing his voice made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

“i, uh…” he hesitated, the sound of him shifting his weight audible through the thin walls. “i just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

you stayed silent, hoping he’d take the hint and leave. but deep down, you knew rafe wasn’t the kind of guy to just walk away.

“you don’t have to let me in,” he added, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “just… let me know you’re alright.”

you clenched your fists, trying to will the lump in your throat away. how were you supposed to explain that you weren’t alright? that you hadn’t been alright in weeks?

the knock came again, gentler this time.

“i’m not leaving until i know you’re okay,” he said firmly, though there was no anger in his voice. only concern.

you sat frozen for what felt like forever, listening to the silence on the other side of the door. maybe he’d given up. maybe he was walking away right now, realizing this wasn’t worth his time.

but then your phone buzzed from where it lay buried under the pillow.

you hesitated before reaching for it, your hands trembling as you unlocked the screen.

rafe <3: hey, i’m outside your place. not trying to bother you, i just wanted to check in. if you need space, i get it. just let me know you’re alright, okay?

your chest ached as you read the words. there was nothing demanding about them, nothing that made you feel guilty or trapped. he wasn’t asking for anything except to know you were safe.

and that made it worse somehow.

because you weren’t.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[wileys-russo]

leah, training, “can i sleep on you please?” or something like that

just one more II l.williamson

"oh no leah come on do we have to!" you groaned as your fiancé clicked into netflix and loaded up yet another season of the crown.

"yes! babe, this is educational and entertaining." the blonde patted your knee with a grin as you groaned even louder and slumped down deeper into the sofa.

"leah i hate to break it to you but as an australian i have zero interest in the royal family, or their arguments over tea trades and affairs!" you scoffed, you respected that the blonde had an illustrious interest in it however that respect lessened when she tried forcing it onto you.

the pair of you had been together for years now and somehow you'd managed to scrape by mostly unscathed, growing very able to block out her ramblings with hums and nods which seemed to appease her.

but then beth just had to go and get her into the crown, interrupting the calm and steady flow of your home routine and especially your once sacred movie nights.

no more would you be curled up together, sharing commentary and laughter and an occasional kiss, arguing over who got the last handful of popcorn, half of the bowl littering the ground where you'd been tossing it at each other trying to catch it in your mouths.

no now you had to try and stay awake through the gruelingly boring slow burned torture that was this show and leahs obsession with it, fighting to keep your eyes open and having to put up with leahs 'tests' that you were paying attention.

you'd tried to leave her to it, going to watch a movie or a show of your own in the bedroom but the moodiness and sulking and the pouts and the dramatic sighs that would echo out for hours from the living room just weren't worth it.

"okay baby, its eleven and we have to be up for the morning session at six, we can't be late again!" you decided for the pair of you, reaching for the remote and quirking an eyebrow when leah quickly snatched it back.

"leah-" "just one more! you can go to bed, but i have to finish this season." "lee there's three more episodes in the season! you may as well come to bed with me now, and watch them tomorrow afternoon when we get back." you tried to bargain but it was no use with the stubborn blonde who firmly shook her head, remote still held tightly to her chest.

"fine! you're a grown woman, you can make your own choices. one more leah, don't be stupid." you warned sternly as your fiance hummed with a firm nod. "just one more pretty girl, i promise."

"goodnight, your highness!" you mocked, pressing your lips to hers a few times as she squeezed your hips, nipping at your bottom lip for the teasing comment.

only as you woke suddenly around four in the morning needing to use the bathroom, you realised maybe you should have fought a little harder to get leah to come to bed with you, the defenders side still empty.

"for fuck sakes." you grumbled tiredly, wiping the sleep from the corner of your eye and swinging out of bed, stomping off to the living room where sure enough the blonde was hanging half off the sofa with her mouth wide open.

she choked on air and hit the floor with a thump as you smacked her in the face with a cushion, gasping as she sat up and found you to be glaring down at her.

"why the hell would you do that jesus christ woman are you trying to put me into cardiac arrest!?" leah clutched her chest and exhaled shakily. "leah it is four in the fucking morning, get your ass into bed right now!" you growled pointing behind you as the taller girl got to her feet, trudging off still grumbling under her breath.

"i swear to god leah you better get up when that alarm goes off tomorrow, if you refuse i'll leave you here and go by myself." you warned seriously getting into bed beside her and smacking away her hands which tried to draw your body into hers.

"seriously?" "seriously, goodnight williamson." "you know a few more months and you'll be a williamson." "well i haven't said i do yet." "hey!"

~

"nope!" your hand banged down on the table with a loud smack causing the blonde across from you to shoot upwards where her head had once been resting on the cafeteria table.

"i warned you leah." you took a bite of toast as the girl whined and buried her face in her hands. "long night then eh?" beth teased as she joined the pair of you, steph, lia and laura not far behind.

"this is your fault!" you poked at the girls chest accusingly who scoffed. "me? what did i do!" she frowned as once again your hand smacked down against the table causing leah to jolt and sit upright again.

"got her into that awful show that she stayed up until four in the morning watching. its taken over our house, our date nights, our dinner conversations, you're a menace!" you huffed, stabbing at your eggs and shoving them into your mouth.

"what show?" "the crown! she's addicted!"

"oo what season are you up to? i really liked-" steph started excitedly, falling short at the dirty glare you sent her in response. "stephanie you're supposed to be on my side!" you scowled making the older girl grin, reaching over to shove your head to the side.

"nah, where's the fun in that?" "traitor to your own country." "aw does it make you mad?" the brunette cooed pinching your cheek as you swatted her hand away, everyone finishing up their food as leah fought to stay awake, munching away on her toast.

"baby please, let me just take a little nap, i'll say i need physio or something." your fiance grumbled as you all filed out of the cafeteria heading for the change rooms, the air ablaze with chatter.

"nope, not a chance. i already warned them!" you shook your head firmly with a slight smile at the way your fiance threw her head back with a groan, moping after you into the change rooms where everyone was already swapping over their trainers to cleats.

"come on, can i sleep on you please? just five minutes." the blonde slumped over into you, grabbing onto your shirt and pressing her face into your neck.

"i love you. you're so pretty. and i'm so tired!" leah whined as you unhooked her fingers from the material of your training top. "well you should have listened to your pretty fiance when she told you to come to bed." you pouted mockingly, kissing her cheek and bending down to lace up your boots.

~

"oi watch it kyra!" leah yelped, ducking the ball which was booted at her head where she'd been leaning against the goal post in between drills. "sorry leah!" the brunette grinned showing she was anything but, alessia grabbing her in a headlock as you snickered.

"what did you do?" steph appeared beside you with a knowing look at the amused smile on your face, having seen it many many times in the years she'd known you and played beside you for country and club.

"me? nothing!" you gasped with mock offence, steph humming and staring you down as your grin widened. "i might have slipped kyra a little money to make sure leah stays...sharp, today." you admitted with a sly smile, steph shaking her head though it wasn't with disbelief.

"oh she's going to kill you, pest." "well she can't do that if she's asleep now, can she stephanie?"

"kyra i swear to god if you kick that ball at me one more time i'm going to shove it down your throat!"

[greengoblinswifey]

Symbol of Love— Rafe Cameron x Pogue!Reader

summary— based off sofia and rafe’s cute moment in s4 ep 9 so slight spoilers. rafe is on mission to catch groff and he gives you something to treasure before he leaves.

warnings— spoilers, fluff, mentions of death.

a/n— saw the scene and immediately decided to write this, my heart is melting omg ugh that should be me and him. these new batch of episodes have been such a roller coaster, can’t wait to finish and see how everything plays out <3

Rafe’s hands were tense as walked around the sand, jaw tight as he tried to process what he’d just learned. Chandler Groff had stolen his money, and he boated off the island. You leaned against the tree, eyes wide as you tried to absorb the news. Hollis’ death had hit you harder than you let on, and whispers were circulating that JJ Maybank might have been involved. Nothing felt certain anymore, but what you did know was that Rafe had always been the one constant—until now.

“Okay, but listen,” Rafe said, his voice sharp and urgent. “Unless I catch up with Groff now, that money is long gone.”

“Where is he, Rafe?” you asked, your heart pounding. You didn’t want him to go, especially not alone, but you knew you couldn’t stop him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he muttered, his gaze fixed somewhere past you. “I’ll track him down. I’ll get it all back.” There was a steely resolve in his voice, a familiar determination that reminded you of just how far he would go to keep what was his.

But before he could take off, he turned to you, his eyes softening just and took a deep breath. “I want to say something first.”

You opened your mouth, the confession about Hollis and everything that happened burning on your tongue. “Rafe, I- I need to tell you something too.”

Before you could finish, he startled you by dropping to one knee, pulling out a beautiful ring from his pocket. Your heart skipped a beat, and suddenly you felt like the world was spinning.

He held it up to you, his gaze never leaving yours. “It was my mom’s,” he said softly, his voice breaking just slightly. “Been in my family forever. I know it’s some kook bullshit, but I just- I wanted you to have it before I left. So you’d know this, us- we’re real.”

“Rafe, wait,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I- I did something. It’s about Hollis. There’s more I didn’t tell you—”

He cut you off, shaking his head and cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing your skin. “Don’t. There’s things about me you don’t know. And trust me, they’re way worse than anything you could say. I don’t care what you did, and I don’t care to know.” His voice softened, but his eyes stayed intense. “I want you, and that’s all that matters to me.”

You could barely breathe, tears leaving your eyes and he slipped the ring on your finger, his eyes pleading.

You were crying now, overwhelmed by the depth of his acceptance. You could feel his hands tremble as he slid the ring onto your finger. “Say yes,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. “There’s no more pogue bullshit, okay? No more of that. I want you to quit that job and move in with me.”

The weight of his words settled over you like a promise, and you nodded, barely able to find your voice. “Yes, Rafe.”

He smiled, relief flooding his face as he pulled you into a kiss, his hands cradling your face as if you were something fragile he had to hold onto. You kissed him back, fingers curling into his jacket, your tears mixing with his warmth.

When you pulled away, he pressed a key into your palm, closing your fingers over it. “It’s to the house. I’ll be back in a few weeks. Stay there for me, okay? At my—no, our place.”

He brushed a kiss across your forehead, and whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” And with one last look, he turned, walking toward his boat as you watched him go.

The salty breeze whipped around you, and you looked down at the ring, feeling a bittersweet ache settle in your chest. It was beautiful and strange, the symbol of a life you were about to share with him, a life you’d always dreamed of. You traced the ring with your thumb, marveling at its age, its history, a part of him that would stay with you even as he left.

Tears blurred your vision as he boarded the boat, but you stood there, rooted, until he was nothing but a speck on the horizon, clutching the key and the promise he’d left behind.

As you watched Rafe disappear over the horizon, a wave of fear washed over you, heavier than the ocean air around you. You knew how dangerous Groff could be, how far he was willing to go to keep what he’d stolen. And now, Rafe was chasing him down. Your heart twisted, the thought of something happening to him tugging at every corner of your mind. But then you shook yourself, forcing the doubt back. Rafe was tough, stronger than anyone you knew. He could handle himself. He’d be okay.

He’d come back.

You took a deep breath, letting the thought settle over you like a warm blanket. He’d come back, and when he did, you’d spend the rest of your lives together. There would be reward, there would be sunshine after the storm. Your love, this wild, all-consuming love, could survive anything. It had to. Everything was going to be okay.

You glanced down at the ring he’d placed on your finger, feeling its weight, its history pressing against your skin like a quiet promise. Your fingers tightened around the key in your other hand, holding onto it as if it could anchor you to this moment, to him. This key was a piece of him, a piece of your future together, the home you’d share, the life you’d build once he returned.

With one last look out at the horizon, you whispered a silent promise of your own. Then you turned back holding the ring and the key close to your heart, holding onto the hope that soon, he’d be back in your arms.

[themultifanshipper]

Oscar was frozen to the spot. It took him a few seconds for his brain to catch up with what he was seeing, but as soon as it did, he saw red.

Warnings: this is a heavy one guys, army!oscar and army!reader, non descriptive sexual assault!!!, I tried to describe it as vaguely as I could so no details, I feel like this is obvious but just in case the SA is not with Oscar, angst, kinda hurt/comfort, then some pretty freaky smut, I despise the very concept of the military but I'm a whore for a man in uniform so… here we are, vaguely based on that one episode of ‘Lie to me'

You and Oscar were very competitive. Everything from punctuality to training exercices were a chance to one up each other.

He was taller and stronger than you so it made physical challenges his area of expertise.

But you were more agile, more analytical, and a definite asset to the team.

You loved a man in uniform, but Oscar was just so insufferable not even the way his broad physique filled out his fatigues could save your opinion of him.

He was cocky, arrogant, and hated being wrong.

You bickered constantly, and the only reason your fights never got physical is because neither of you wanted a dishonourable discharge on your records.

You were always out on missions with your squad, and right now you were in Afghanistan.

Your sergeant was a different kind of man.

Nice, but a little bit creepy, would sometimes walk into the female locker rooms without announcing himself…

But he was always sweet to you. He was exceedingly polite, and never made any passes at you. He never made you drive the front convoy car, even though everyone was supposed to take turns doing it.

Which in a way you were grateful for, given that it was the most dangerous position to be in, even though it was a bit unfair to the others. You’d heard rumours, but he never did anything to you.

Until today.

Your last day before returning home.

The temperature in your tent was stifling that afternoon, so you'd gone off to a local spring that was surrounded by walls of rough rock to cool off and relax after a stressful few weeks.

You were in shorts and a sports bra, nothing indecent in case one of your fellow privates came along.

And the sergeant had apparently followed you there, because as soon as your outer layers were off, he sidled up next to you and put his hands on your hips from behind, making you jump.

“Hello, beautiful”

“Wha-” You tried to turn around and push him off, but he was too strong and pinned you against the rock face.

You struggled, but he quickly insured you couldn't call for help by putting a hand over your mouth.

“I think it's time to repay me for my generosity over these past few weeks, no?”

You were stuck, body pressed between him and the rocks, and you felt utterly helpless against his tall muscular frame.

…

Oscar was looking for you. He wanted to apologise to you after your brief argument earlier. He'd been a bit of a dick and you called him out, nothing out of the ordinary.

He was rehearsing what he wanted to say in his head, because despite the two of you always being on the verge of hating each other's guts, you pushed each other to become better, and he wasn't going to lie, he did have a bit of a soft spot for you.

Which is why when he turned the corner and saw you and the sergeant pressed together, the first thing he felt was intense jealousy.

But the way you seemed to be squirming in his hold, and the way he was holding you down sent a jolt of adrenaline through his body.

He didn't even think twice, he sprinted over and dragged the other man off you, throwing him on the ground easily.

The half-second glance he spared you told him everything he needed to know. You were on the verge of tears, and there were a couple of scrapes and bruises forming on your skin.

He turned and stalked towards the man on the floor.

You were so shocked at the sudden turn of events your legs gave out and you tumbled to the floor with relief.

Your eyes filled with tears and you turned away to get your clothes, but your body didn't respond.

You were forced to watch as Oscar straddled the sergeants waist and landed a well aimed blow to his nose, breaking it instantly.

“What the fuck do you think you were doing to her?!” he hissed, anger seeping from him in waves.

“None of your business, Piastri” the other man said, earning him another hit.

“Don't you ever touch her again, you hear me?”

The sergeant tried to spit at him but Oscar just landed another, much harder punch, this time knocking him out.

He stood up with a snarl, landing a hard kick to the man's ribs for good measure, and made his way over to you.

You were curled up with your knees tucked under your chin and tears still blurring your vision.

“Are you okay?” he asked tentatively, crouching down in front of you, a hand hovering somewhere near your arm, unsure if you were okay with being touched right now.

You didn't want to appear weak, and you didn't trust your voice so you simply gave him a swift nod.

Unfortunately the movement dislodged a few tears, which fell down your cheeks.

His heart broke.

“I'm sorry, that was a stupid question, really” he sighed at himself “Let's find your clothes and get you back to camp, then I’ll contact-”

He was looking around for your clothes and you couldn't help it, you surged forwards to wrap around him in a tight hug, almost knocking him off balance.

He took that as a sign that he could touch you, and held you in his arms, cradling you gently as you sobbed into his shirt.

You don't know how long you stayed like that, but it was long enough for the air temperature to drop as the evening rolled around, and a chill ran down your back.

You shivered and he helped you grab your clothes before heading back together, leaving the sergeant unconscious on the ground.

He stuck by your side all through dinner, keeping an eye on you as you ate your meal in relative silence while the others chatted away about their excitement of getting back home, not noticing that the mood was very different at the other end of the table.

You looked so downtrodden, Oscar didn't think twice before asking “Do you want to stay in my tent tonight?”

It was a bit of a risky question when he thought about it, but to his surprise, you nodded immediately and smiled at him sheepishly.

“If you don’t mind… I don't want to be alone in case… well…”

He smiled and put an arm around your shoulder. “I understand, don't worry”

…

His tent was the same as yours, but somehow it seemed much smaller because of the mess that was in it.

Clothes (uniforms) and bags were strewn everywhere, and for some reason he had two sleeping bags.

“I get cold easily!” he whined defensively when you asked him about it.

You smirked. “Aw does little Osc need a hot water bottle to keep him warm at night?” you cooed mockingly.

He rolled his eyes at you and slipped into his sleeping bag to take his pants off without you watching him.

You raised an eyebrow at him questionningly. “Since when are you shy about getting undressed?”

He chuckled “I wouldn't want you to get a glimpse of my banging bod and fall in love with me” he joked.

You scoffed. You'd seen him in his swimwear before and he knew that.

You took your over clothes off in front of him nonchalantly, not bothering to hide yourself given that he had also seen you in swimwear, and he sucked in a breath and quickly looked away.

For a dick, he was being quite a gentleman, and something stirred inside you at that fact. You didn’t know he was capable of being a gentleman.

You slid into your own sleeping bag and sighed in relief, your body fully relaxing for the first time since this afternoon.

You were both lying there, in slightly awkward silence.

You thought back to how quickly Oscar had reacted, and shuddered at the thought of “What if? What if Oscar hadn't been out there at that moment?”

The distress must have shown on your face because Oscar asked “What are you thinking about?”

“Nothing” you replied a bit too quickly, avoiding his gaze that was burning into the side of your face.

“You're a bad liar” he muttered softly, not a hint of joking in his tone.

“You know you're probably going to get a court-martialed when we get back?” your voice trembled as you realised that the thought of not having Oscar around made you sad.

“I doubt that, I was protecting a fellow officer. If anything he's the one who should be getting court-martialed.”

You sighed. In a perfect world.

“That's generally not how these things go, you know? They'll probably find a way to blame me and then I’ll be the one in trouble…”

Oscar rolled over onto his side and stared at you with a serious expression.

“Look at me” he ordered. You turned your head to see a stormy look in his eyes “I will do everything I can to make sure that doesn't happen. And if it does I will quit the army altogether.”

You blinked at him.

“You don't have to do that”

“Of course I do.” He glanced down briefly at your lips. “If I don't who will?”

You felt tears prickle at your eyes again and you gulped down the emotions threatening to spill out.

“Thank you, Oscar” you breathed.

He smiled “No problem”

“No. I mean thank you for earlier… not every man I know would have done what you did”

His eyes softened as he looked at you.

He didn't need to say anything, you both knew it to be true.

You fell into a comfortable silence and you almost drifted off, if it weren’t for the slight movement next to you.

“You okay?” you asked, seeing that Oscar was searching around for his disguarded shirt.

“Yeah, I’m a bit cold so I’m going to put my clothes back on”

You watched him put his shirt on, and you felt sorry for stealing his sleeping bag.

“Well… you know the most effective way to maintain body heat?”

That made him freeze. Of course he knew, it was basic training. The best way to warm up was to share body heat with someone.

“You…”  he gulped “You wanna do that?” his eyes met yours. “For me?”

You smiled at him “Sure. It’s the least I can do”

He frowned at that. “I don’t want you to feel like you owe me anything, that’s not why I-”

You shushed him by pressing a finger to his lips. “I know, but I feel bad that you’re cold because of me so I want to help you get warm, simple as that”

Without another word you unzipped your sleeping bag, then his, and zipped them together to essentially form a big sleeping bag for two.

Oscar was a bit red in the face at your sudden proximity to him but he looked mildly impressed. “Ingenious”

You rolled your eyes and lay down on your side with your back to him. “Whatever, now shut up and get over here”

He grumbled something you couldn’t hear and shuffled over to you, his arm hovering awkwardly.

“Can I, uhh- you know, touch you?”

Thank god he couldn’t see your face or he would have seen how you blushed furiously at his words.

You had to scold yourself for your unholy thoughts.

“Of course”

His arm was draped over your middle, and you could feel the heat of his chest almost touching your back, but for some reason he seemed reluctant to press his body to yours, which was the whole point of this.

“Oscar, you do know the concept of spooning, yes?” you giggled, trying to lighten the mood. He mumbled out a ‘yes’.

“Then you know your body needs to be touching mine, yeah? Not just your arm.”

“I uh- I don’t think that’s a good idea right now” he whispered, and his breath on the back of your neck made you shiver.

“Why not? I told you it’s fine, we’re just sharing body heat”

He sighed. “I can’t. I have-  uhh, a problem.”

“What problem?”

“You know... A problem that would make it very uncomfortable for both of us to spoon right now”

Your breath hitched. “You mean…”

The silence stretched on and he didn’t say anything.

“You mean you’re… you've got- uhh…”

“Yeah” he breathed. “I’m sorry. I usually … you know, before I go to bed but you’re here, so… yeah”

Your face was burning now. You now had the image of Oscar getting rid of his problem swimming around your head.

“You can deal with it… if you want. I don’t mind. This is your tent.”

His arm twitched where it was lying against you. “No I’m not doing that while you’re here!”

“Why not?” you were feeling emboldened by the obvious stutter in his breathing “It’s a natural bodily response. Nothing to be ashamed of.”

Oscar had to thoroughly recompose himself, before saying something he’d regret.

“No it’s fine, it’ll go away in a minute.”

“Okay, suit yourself” you sighed, closing your eyes and your brain unhelpfully supplied the image of you helping him with his problem.

Neither of you said a word after that, you were both too busy trying to think of something else, anything else, rather than the ache between your respective legs.

It had been a while since you'd been in this close a proximity to a man, especially one as fucking fit as him.

And he was fucking hard. And probably big as well, if the size of his ego was anything to go by.

You felt him shiver behind you.

“Oscar” you turned around so that you were facing him. “It’s not going to go away is it? So either accept it, or get rid of it, but I don’t want you to be cold!”

His eyes were wide as he met your challenging gaze. You didn't know where this brazenness was coming from, maybe it was pure adrenaline, but you turned over again and huffed. “Now get on with it”

A beat passed without a sound, before he started shuffling around.

“You sure you're okay with this?” he asked tentatively.

“Yeah go ahead, pretend I'm not here”

Oscar sighed and reached a hand down over his underwear, giving himself the lightest squeeze. Damn, he was really hard.

“Shit, okay” he said, talking to himself more than anything.

He slid his boxers down enough to free his cock and wrap a hand around his girth.

He bit back a moan.

He was determined to do this quietly, for your sake.

You'd told him to ‘pretend you weren't there’ but that wasn't possible for Oscar in that moment. Firstly because the heat radiating from your body was impossible to ignore, secondly because when he closed his eyes all he could see was you, and all the past dirty fantasies Oscar had had about you when he got himself off.

He'd thought of what it would be like to see you on your knees for him, begging for his cock, or how you'd look bouncing on top of him while he sucked your tits.

He was just a man after all.

And he was so hard it hurt, and he was trying his best to not let any noises slip.

But you could hear the slight movement of his hand against the sleeping bag, and the way his ragged breathing was getting heavier, and then his almost silent whimpers.

And now you were getting turned on.

It's not like he was being loud. By any account it should have been easy to ignore him, but all of your senses seemed to have tuned in to him, and only him.

You could almost see him in yoir mind, lips bitten raw and eyes squeezed shut as he worked his cock frantically, trying to come as fast as possible while you were inches away from him.

The heat between your own legs was becoming unbearable, you needed some kind of relief, so you didn't think twice before sliding a hand into your own underwear.

The first touch against your clit sent an instant wave of relief over your body, so you carried on, sliding a finger through your folds, which were so wet it slipped right in with no resistance.

You flexed your wrist, careful to not make any movements that might alert Oscar to what you were doing.

It was filthy, rubbing one off to your friends sounds, but you couldn't help yourself. You were getting wetter by the minute and the pressure of your palm against your clit just felt so good.

 You were biting your lip in an effort to stop the noises coming out of your mouth, and you were doing a better job of it than Oscar, because he was letting out pathetic little whimpers.

“Fuck” he let out a quiet breath, and you almost would have missed it had you not been listening intently.

You clenched involuntarily around your fingers at the sound, and let out a high pitched noise of your own.

He froze, worried that he'd somehow gone too far.

“Shit- sorry… I'll stay quiet I promise”

You let out a breath, not stopping the movement of your hand.

“Oscar”

“Yeah?” he sounded breathless as his head whipped up to look at you.

“Don't stop, fuck-” you were so fucking needy you could feel yourself slowly creeping towards an orgasm.

Oscar's brain stalled as he realised exactly what you were doing, and his cock throbbed at the thought of you getting off to his noises.

“Are you…?” he asked, hand picking up the rhythm, aided by the steady drip of precome leaking from his tip. “Are you touching yourself as well?”

“Yeah… I'm sorry” you whined “You just sound so hot, Osc, couldn't help myself…”

His brain melted at the nickname, and at how fucked-out you sounded already.

“You have no idea how fucking hard I am right now” he groaned in frustration.

“fuck- I need you” you were trembling, you just needed a little extra push to get over the edge.

“Jesus” he gasped “What do you need?”

“Need you inside me, please” you begged so prettily, how could he refuse such a request.

His body finally made contact with yours, and you could feel him against the curve of your ass.

He reached around your body and replaced your hand with his.

“Fucking hell, you're soaked” he grunted as you quickly slid your underwear off and hooked your leg over his hips to pull him closer to you.

You took his cock in your hand and for the first time felt exactly how big he was.

“Fucking hell Oscar” you gasped.

He chuckled and lined himself up with your dripping cunt, rubbing himself through your folds.

“Fuck me Osc, please” he swiftly pushed inside, and the way he stretched you out so perfectly made your brain turn to static as he wasted no time, thrusting in and out of you shallowly.

You turned your head to the side and grabbed his face to join your lips in a messy kiss, panting as he buried himself in you to the base.

You shuddered as his cock kissed your cervix over and over, all the while rubbing your clit in fast tight circles in an effort to make you come before him, both of you being already so close to the edge you could taste it.

Neither of you lasted very long. As soon as you started clenching around him he was a goner, and he came inside you with a punched-out groan of your name while you whined into his mouth.

You were too exhausted to move, so he kept his softening cock inside you, and wrapped his arms around you to hold you tighter.

“Well, I'm not cold anymore, that's for sure…”

You giggled and slapped his arm playfully.

He responded by leaning over you and pressing his lips to yours in a passionate display of emotion that you were too tired to unpack right now, so you just enjoyed the moment, smiling into kiss.

You fell asleep like that, in each other's arms.

When you got back, you discovered that several complaints had been made about your Sergeant, and there was some kind of investigation involving lie detector tests.

He did end up getting arrested, and you were promoted for your troubles, and because you deserved it, of course.

Apparently he was the one that had been preventing you from getting that promotion, on the grounds that you were better off under his supervision, as he put it in his reports.

So you sued, and won, and Oscar was so proud of you he bought you an engagement ring, which he gave to you in Paris, on the Seine, while a accordionist played Careless Whisper behind you.

It was raining fucking buckets, and the accordion sounded dreadful, but to you it was absolutely perfect.

Oscar found it incredibly hot that you were now his superior, and often called you Sir to rile you up.

So naturally, you regularly had sex in your uniforms, because you were both absolute freaks about it.