Like Remember When It Was Pretty Well Understood By Men Who Were Actually Chill To Be Around That Like

forever grateful for actors who look at their scene partner's mouth when they talk. they're really those little hand hold supports on the indoor rock climb that is fanon shipping

her little smile <3 for @darcyofmine

august

a summer in dunbrook, part three

a/n: and to close it all off, let them have a horny camping trip. it's what they deserve.

summary: once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, sequel to lilac, smut, lumberjack AU, camping, roasting marshmallows, kissing, size kink, dirty talk, oral, manhandling, hair pulling, impact play, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 3121

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“All I’m saying is that maybe we wait just one more day before we go home,” Frank said as he slammed the car door shut behind him. 

Readjusting your grip on Enzo’s leash, you blinked up at Frank as he tugged on the big backpack stuffed with supplies. 

“One more day?” you cocked a brow, “you just feel like camping one day more than we planned? Making the trip just that little bit longer so that you–, oh yeah, so that you miss the summer barbeque that you’ve been acting like a toddler about.” 

“I haven’t been–,” he scoffed, though swiftly dropped it with a heavy huff, “look, is it really that bad that I’d rather spend my time with you and Enzo than sit through hours of small talk?” he pleaded as you began to tread away from the parked vehicle, through the wilderness you’d arrived at. 

“No, but I don’t wanna miss it,” you said. Letting out a sigh, you took a step closer to him and caught his wide palm, “look, you don’t have to come along if it’s really that terrible,” your fingers offered his a squeeze to underline your statement, “I love you, I’m not gonna force you.”

Glancing over at you, he caught your eye and offered you the faintest of smiles, “thank you.”

“But,” you stretched out the vowel as if you were blowing a piece of bubble gum, “I’m just saying that you might regret it, you might miss some really fun shenanigans.” 

“Yeah,” he huffed in response, “I bet.”

“Hey, I know he didn’t last year, but I’m crossing my fingers that this year, Otto gets super drunk on Donna’s punch again and starts thinking he’s a drag queen. I know he’s the sheriff, but he can really get put on a good show when the mood strikes and he thinks he’s twenty again.” 

Once you’d reached your spot, set up the tent and the stars were all twinkling in the sky, you and Frank savoured the mild summer evening sitting by the campfire where your fluffy ball of fur had also found a comfortable corner. 

“Oh,” you then suddenly stirred from your trance-like state, ripping your stare away from the flames, “I almost forgot!”

Scrambling off the stout log you’d used to sit on, you ripped open the flap of the tent directly behind you and crawled inside. 

Glancing over his shoulder, half with an amused grin and half checking out your ass, Frank watched as you tore open the backpack and fished out an item. 

Hiding it behind your spine, you didn’t reveal it before you’d returned to your seat. 

“Tada!” you presented your contribution to the camping trip. 

“Marshmallows,” Frank couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. 

“You have to! You simply have to,” you declared as you ripped the plastic open. 

As you let yourself munch on one straight out of the bag, you watched as Frank picked up a few suitable twigs from the forest floor below, fished a swiss army knife out of his pocket and prepped them into the perfect utensils for the job.

The art of roasting marshmallows was something you’d perfected as a child. Getting them just right so that their outer shell got completely caramelised and golden brown, while the entire innards were rendered a sweet gooey mess. 

That fine skill was sadly not something Frank possessed, or perhaps cared about as deeply as you did. It nearly shocked you to horrors to watch him burn the little candy till it looked like a lump of coal, only to eat it without a care in the world as if it hadn’t been utterly ruined. 

So in order to prove to him just how wrong he was in his indifference, just how good they could be when done just right, you roasted him one to the utmost perfection.

“Alright,” you uttered when you retracted the stick from the flames. Carefully pulling it off the widdled twig, you held it out for him, though noted just before he enclosed his mouth around it, “careful, it’s hot.” 

As you studied his expression for traces of your victory, you popped your sticky fingers in your mouth, licking them clean one by one. 

Frank however also seemed to gaze back at you, though the heated stare that traced your innocent digits flew completely over your head as that wasn’t what you so intently were searching for. 

“So?” you impatiently poked in between cleaning the sugar off of your skin, “how is it?”

Swallowing the treat, he then hummed, “yeah, it’s good,” his eyes still glued to you. 

“Just good?” you cocked your head, “not amazing, incredible, your life will never be the same?” you listed off and then finally noticed just how intense his stare was, “what?” your voice seemed to shrink as you dropped the jest, “do I have some on my face?”

“No…” he shook his head lightly as one of your palms shot up to wipe the corner of your mouth. 

“Then what is it? Why are you staring at me like that?”

“I just love you, is all,” he breathed, “you’re very cute,” his soft smirk grew wider as he then added, “especially when you don’t realise the dirty things you do.”

A giggle then erupted from your lungs, “what did I do?” and continued to bubble out of you even as he began to lean in, “what?” 

But instead of filling you in, he simply pressed his lips to yours. 

It was soft at first, peppering you with pecks as your laughter slowly faded away. But then when your chuckling had come to a close and no longer vibrated against his lips, he let go of his gentleness and gave in to the desire that was about to burst. 

Slipping his tongue past your lips, a low groan flowed from him and melted against yours as they danced against one another. His broad palm only stayed on your cheek a moment longer before it soared down your frame, his other hand too joining in the exploration of your curves. 

You nearly couldn’t keep track of his touch as it wandered wildly, grabbing at every place that made you all tingly inside. Though, at one point when you thought you might fall off your makeshift seat, you actually did, or rather, Frank’s grasp slid down to your bottom and scooped you closer, so close in fact that you now found yourself half kneeling on the forest floor, between his thick thighs where he remained seated, and arching up to keep your lips still attached.

As one of his hands reconnected with your heated cheek, he withdrew ever so slightly as a groan left his throat, “god, I wanna fuck you…”

The gravel in his tone shot straight down between your legs and made you whimper, “please.”

After he seized your lips once more, the hand on the side of your face slid further up and disappeared into your hair. When his fist soon enclosed around the roots of your locks at the nape of your neck, a purr poured out of you, one he briefly paused the kiss to relish hearing. 

His other palm still grazed over your clothing, petting you so passionately that you expected on bated breath for him to rip your attire off. 

But he didn’t. 

Instead, right when he pinched your nipple through your shirt, his fingers didn’t move to pop open the row of buttons. 

Pulling back from the heated kiss, he maintained your face so close to his that his prominent nose pressed against your cheek. 

“Take this off,” he commanded in a gravelly tone, faintly gesturing to your shirt before his hand floated up to join his other if your hair. 

As you scrambled to do so, hazy with lust, you tried to tilt your chin to capture his lips, but the grip he had on you caused each of your attempts to fail as he denied you another taste. 

Once your button-up tumbled to the ground, he rose to his feet, lifting you with him, before one of his hands briefly let go to gesture to the shorts that hung from your hips, “these as well.”  

It wasn’t till they too fell to the dirt that Frank finally kissed you again, or to be more accurate, nearly devoured you. 

Your fingers tangled in his flannel for purchase as he scooped your body even closer to his. When you felt the palpable tent in his pants press up against your stomach, your right hand had a mind of its own and slid down to graze and teasingly rub him through his clothing. 

“Fuck…” he grunted, swiftly leaning into your touch. 

When his feet began to move, yours blindly began to shuffle as well. Each time you encountered even a tiny twig or something to make you slightly lose your balance, your grip tightened in his shirt and his hold on you swiftly shifted and clutched your waist, just so that in case you actually did stumble, he would be ready to sweep you off your feet. 

The flap to the tent was already open from when you grabbed the marshmallows, so nothing was there to hinder you when Frank pushed you inside. 

As both of you sank down to your knees on the sprawled-out sleeping bags, you began to tear at his clothes, an action that he didn’t protest in the slightest, only brought a hand back up to tangle itself in your locks. With the tent still open to the great outdoors, the crackling light from the campfire streamed in and illuminated both your forms. The warm glow licked across Frank’s skin as you revealed more and more of it. 

When you began to tuck at the last remaining item covering him up, you barely managed to hook a finger in his boxers before Frank’s body moved, laying down and bringing you with him. Chest pressed down against his, he manoeuvred your legs to be at either side of his hips. 

Capturing his lips in a kiss, you both sucked in a slow breath through your noses. As his palms slid up from the curve of your ass and over your waist, the pent-up tempo that had formed outside seemed to relax, your sloppy makeout morphing into soft and yearning pecks. 

His scruff tickled your palms as you clutched his jaw and withdrew just enough for you to catch your breath. Your nose nuzzled gently against his as you then begged in a foggy whisper, “can I please suck your cock?” 

Huffing out a smile, he found your eyes, “you wanna suck my cock?”

“Please.”

“Oh yeah? Well then go right ahead since you want it so badly.”

Mirroring his grin, you leaned in to press your lips to his one last time, “thank you,” before you slowly began to crawl further down. 

Holding his gaze as he propped himself up onto his elbows, you dipped down to plant a few kisses across his stomach before your nose nuzzled against the waistband of his underwear. When you were slotted between his parted legs, resting on your belly with your feet kicked up, his thumbs dipped into his boxers and pulled them off before you had the chance. 

His length sprung free of its binds, throbbing under your gaze and glistening with precum. Your eyes flickered up to meet his as you wrapped your fingers around his girth and a sharp intake of air filled Frank’s lungs. 

You only really had to tilt your head and stick out your tongue in order for it to glide across the bulbous head, as you already were at eye level. Glancing up to catch his gaze, you teasingly tapped the tip of him against your tongue, the corners of your mouth tipping upwards at his reaction. Dipping your head, you planted sloppy pecks down the side of him and when you came back up, you let your saliva dribble down his hardness, your fist swiftly swooping up to lavish its strokes.

When your lips finally enclosed around his girth, a deep rumble vibrated in his burly chest as he watched your slow movements intently, “fuck, I love you…” and his hand came down to stroke the side of your features as you silkily began to bob, “just like that, baby, yes,” drool gradually began to drip down as your lips stretched around his fat girth. When you then momentarily came up for air, Frank tilted his chin and said, “don’t forget the nuts, sweetheart,” and you swiftly bowed down to sloppily make out with his heavy sack, “give them some love as well.”

Then, just as you were about to return your attention to his painfully hard length, he manoeuvred your head for you and only relished in a few seconds of your butterfly-like pace before his hips twisted beneath you and bucked up into your efforts, fucking your little mouth till his cock plunged all the way down your throat. Spit bubbled up at the corners of your lips as his fingers curled around to hold your head in place just a moment longer, letting him fuck your throat till tears began to spew forth. You knew by the sensation that if you’d been lying on your back, the imprint of his cock would have been clear as day in the column of your throat, a familiar bulge that Frank would often let his fingers trace if he caught sight of it. 

Strings of slobber spiderwebbed from your swollen and gasping lips as he finally plucked you off of him. Sitting up more, he brought his face further down and pressed his mouth to yours, smothering the smile that appeared on your features as soon as you got up for air. 

As he impatiently ripped your bra off and you reached down to pull off your panties, they clung to your weepy cunt. Not being able to resist, yourself, you reached down and swept your fingers through your folds, your eyebrows crinkling up at the discovery of just how wet you’d gotten. 

Picking you up, Frank placed you back in his lap before his kisses faded and he layed back down. Raising yourself further up on your knees to hover above him, he grabbed a hold of the base of himself and briefly dragged the tip of him through your petals, flicking your clit before he brought a broad palm to your hip and helped you sink down. 

“Fucking hell…” you flutteringly cursed as you braced a hand on his chest, “oh, F-Frank…”

Your thighs trembled slightly on either side of him as you slowly eased your way down, the stretch of his fat cock proving just staggering as ever. 

As you gently began to roll your hips and find a calm pace that let you feel each and every single detail of him, your eyes fluttered shut as he stretched you out. Repeatedly raising your hips up till just the essence of him remained, you’d then sink back down, each time your slow pace nearly caused your pussy to clench and shrink back entirely so that it felt as if he’d have to split you open all over again. 

But just as you began to lose yourself to the heavenly sensation and let yourself slam back down with more ferocity, Frank’s cock slipped out of your creamy cunt completely. 

A whimper swiftly escaped you as your eyes blinked back open, but the man below you didn’t seem to move a muscle as he just uttered, “put it back in, baby,” which you swiftly reached down to do, moaning loudly as he slipped back into your warmth. His strong fingers dented the curve of your ass as you fulfilled his command, “there you go, good girl,” then swatted his wide palm against your backside to kickstart you back into action. 

Panting as you bounced like a little bunny, your hands crept up to squeeze your tits, pinching the nipples harshly as the melody of your efforts filled the tent. 

“That’s it, ride it,” he growled, offering your ass a few more slaps, “ride that fucking dick.”

Both of his hands then grabbed a hold of your bottom and surely bruised it as he aided your movements, though it didn’t take very long at all for him to take over completely and move your body atop of him, leaving you to just relax into his hold and sink deeper into the breathtaking sensation.

As he bounced you on his cock, he managed to nestle you down even further and grind his dick impossibly deep within you. 

Your head lulled back a bit as he rocked your form. Then, as you felt goosebumps tingle across your flesh and the intoxicating end near, you stopped fighting the urge and let your upper body crumble down against his. 

Fingers curling uselessly against his skin, you almost attempted to bury your face in his chest, right below his right shoulder. 

“Fucking hell,” your eyes rolled as you began to drool on his pec. 

Rolling his hips beneath you, he started to buck up into your weepy cunt before his palm landed a few tingling blows across your bottom. 

When your pussy finally clambered down around him, you nearly bit him as your features tensed up in a silent scream. His own demise soon arrived as well, especially as you throbbed and squeezed down around him so tightly that he nearly couldn’t move at all, just throw in the towel and let your cunt milk him dry. 

You almost fell asleep, laying there on his chest as it slowly rose and fell like a calm tide, Frank even assumed that you had until the moment that you murmured, “I’m so happy that you didn’t just keep driving…” 

“Uh…” his warm fingers drew slow patterns along your spine as he attempted to catch up, “when are you talking about?”

Faintly, you heard the tent rustle as Enzo sleepily stepped inside and plopped himself down on your tangled feet. 

“That you stopped back then on that day when my car broke down,” you uttered as your emotions began to fog up your voice, “thank you for stopping. If not, then we probably wouldn’t have ever met… god… I love you so much. I don’t even know how to–…” a heavy sigh flowed from you before you tilted your head and blinked up into his coffee eyes, tears glinting in your own, “I love you.”

With a molasses-like expression softening up his features, his fingers then tugged a strand of your hair out of your forehead before he replied, “I love you too, Y/n.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

razzle dazzle dream weave richie jerimovich i love you

we as a society need to bring back the aroace barbie agenda

I heard someone call barbie disappointingly heterosexual and I've never disagreed with anything more strongly in my life

I have a few but take your time on these!

Tony Stark x Female Reader // The reader gets injured on a mission and tony freaks out which causes the team to have to calm him down, but you end up being okay.

Newt x Reader (TMR) // The reader gets the flare but so does her brother minho and newt panics

Eric Coulter x Reader // Christina talks about the reader in a bad way to Eric challenges her

this was fun! btw i already wrote the tony stark one and the newt one, which are linked in my masterlist!

masterlist

It’s empty in Dauntless this time of night, so late (or perhaps so early) that even the most tenured partygoers have all retreated to their rooms to wait until morning. The only person Eric can see is himself, his only company the vague shape of his shadow keeping pace next to him.

Then again, maybe he’s not the only one up. As Eric walks, he sees a silhouette through an open door somewhere to his left. There’s a figure outside, staring out at the city as it sleeps.

Eric is inclined to pay this person no mind and continue on heading home, but as he draws closer he realizes he recognizes the figure as one of his initiates. Well, that settles it- initiates aren’t supposed to be out of bed at this hour, and if someone else catches them, it’ll be on Eric’s head for sure because he didn’t train them right or something.

Holding back a sigh, he walks over to the door and slips outside. The night air is cool even compared to the usual brisk chill of the Dauntless corridors, making Eric shiver in spite of himself. red to the chilled halls of Dauntless, and Eric shivers in spite of himself. He raises his voice, calling out to the girl leaning over a haphazard iron balcony.

“Initiates have a curfew, you know.”

The girl laughs, he can tell from the shake of her shoulders, although the sound of it is ripped away by the wind.

“Are you going to knock me down in the rankings if I stay?”

The girl turns at last, and Eric fights back a curse, because he finally recognizes her and it’s Y/N of all people. Y/N, the one person who keeps making him doubt himself, the girl who laughs like nothing he’s ever heard before, who makes Eric want to be better than he already is. If he was smart, Eric would have kept walking and never stopped by this door, because he’s been looking for an excuse to pretend he doesn’t have feelings for a while now and this just blew all that away.

It’s just- well, Eric’s not the type to have picture-perfect moments, except for maybe when he wins yet another round in the ring and looks up to see his knuckles splashed with red, the whole world gone black and white except for those dots of scarlet. Yet when Y/N looks at him, her eyes almost glowing from the stars, the wind lightly twisting around her hair and skin in ways that Eric wishes he could, he realizes that he can’t run, not from this. Not from her.

Y/N cocks her head to the side, and Eric realizes belatedly that she’d asked him a question. He doesn’t know how long he’s been staring, but he needs to stop now. It’s a shame that’s far harder to do than he’d originally thought.

He clears his throat sharply, hoping his infatuation isn’t as obvious to Y/N as it is to him.

“Maybe I will. The rules are here for a reason, you know.”

It’s a stupid response, but Eric can’t convince the receptors in his brain to focus long enough to form a better thought. They’re just stuck in the same loops of Y/N’s smile, the curve of her skin under the dark night sky, the way it’s just the two of them out here. He couldn’t look away if he tried.

Y/N just shrugs, though. “I’ve followed the other rules. Besides, no one needs to know if you don’t tell them.”

Secrets. Eric can’t help but wish they could break one more. “What’s out here that would be so interesting, anyway? I thought initiation was hard enough for everybody that you’d be asleep with the rest.”

Y/N turns back to the landscape unrolling before her. “I couldn’t sleep, who knows why. Besides, I like seeing the city from this angle. For some reason, it’s totally different from how it was back in my old faction.”

This makes Eric curious. He’s grown used to the city, used to knowing which buildings are full of light and which are just crumbling wrecks, long since abandoned by everyone except the factionless. He wishes he could look at the world in the same way Y/N does, like everything is new and worth loving. He wishes she would look at him like that, too.

Y/N smiles, considering the tiny pinpricks of light making up the city they call home. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Eric nods slowly. “Yes, it is.” He isn’t looking at the city, though. He hasn’t once been able to take his eyes off of her.

At last, Y/N sighs reluctantly, pushing away from the balcony until she’s facing him again. “Alright, I got the message. Heading back to the initiate bunks now.”

Some part of Eric is vaguely disappointed by this, like he would have loved to spend hours out here lost in thought with her, but he can’t exactly vocalize that now, so he just follows her back into the Dauntless complex.

“I can walk you back, if you like.”

Y/N arches a brow at the statement, although she doesn’t seem put off by it. “What, worried about me getting lost?”

Eric shakes his head. “I’ve seen enough initiates get taken out while they were walking around at night. It wouldn’t be the first time to happen, and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

Y/N shivers slightly at the thought, tucking her arms around her chest. Eric wishes he could pull her closer to him, erase all fear until the world began and ended with her.

Instead, he keeps walking, and they reach the initiates’ sleeping quarters soon enough. Eric manages a quick goodbye before he leaves, although he doesn’t go until he sees Y/N slip inside the door. He doesn’t want to think about her being attacked any more than she does. Maybe that’s a sign that he’s lost his edge, or maybe that he cares about her far more than he should. Then again, by now that’s a given.

Looking back on it, that night was the last sign Eric needed to realize that he liked Y/N a lot. During training the next day, Eric can’t stop thinking about the way she looked under the moonlight, instinctively drawing close to him against the chill of the wind. He wishes he could go back, but he doesn’t see her out on that balcony again. A shame, to be sure.

However, during the first day of actual fights instead of just practicing with the punching bags, Eric finally gets a chance to talk to her again, outside of the prying eyes of the other initiates. Y/N’s friend Tris has to fight against Molly, one of the tallest and toughest girls there. Tris falls almost instantly, more stunned by the fact that they won’t be able to tap out than anything else.

Y/N offers to help get a mostly unconscious Tris to the medical wing, and Eric jumps at the chance. He does his best to seem casual as he directs Four to take over teaching the initiates, and, tossing one of Tris’ arms over his shoulder, helps Y/N start to carry the other girl out and through the halls.

Y/N glances at Eric over Tris’ head. “You know, I didn’t think you would be the type to help initiates get help if you didn’t have to.”

Eric looks between Tris and Y/N, surprised, before realizing that the Stiff can’t actually focus on a single word they’re saying due to a particularly strong hit to the head.

“Maybe I wanted to prove that I’m better than you think.” No need to think about the reason for that.

Y/N smirks. “And you do that by dragging Tris to the med wing?”

Eric gives her a look. “If you like, I can leave now and let you carry her the rest of the way.”

It’s a bluff, of course. He’s already proved that he’d never leave her if there was an option where he could stay, and Y/N knows it.

“But then you’d be robbed of my fantastic company. We all know that I'm far better than any of the other initiates.”

She’s joking, but Eric thinks that she’s actually closer to the truth than he cares to admit.

“It’s better than having to watch some of the other trainees fight. Seeing how bad their form is might be making me worse.”

Y/N laughs. “That’s a valid excuse to leave. I have to ask, though- why did you really come? I mean, you had no real reason to help Tris with me. We all know Four would have jumped at the chance.”

Eric looks over at her again, pleasantly surprised to note that she’s already looking at him. “Maybe I wanted to prove that I’m better than you think,” he repeats. This time, Y/N’s eyes clear as if she finally gets what he’s trying to say.

He shouldn’t be getting this close to her, and Eric knows it. Still, he can’t exactly stay away. He sees her every day in initiation, and she’s got too deep a hold on his heart for anything else to last. Eric does try his best to hide his true feelings from the rest of the trainees, though. He can’t have them thinking that Y/N’s only high in the rankings because one of the initiation leaders is crushing on her. She’s better than that.

Apparently, Eric is doing a little too good of a job in seeming unbiased, because scarcely a day or two later, Christina starts complaining to him about Y/N, and it takes everything Eric has to not kill her on the spot.

Christina was on thin ice as it was. She lost her first fight, everybody could see it, but she wouldn’t commit to the loss. Instead, just before her opponent could keep going, Christina had flung up her hand, crying out around a bloodied nose that she was done, that she couldn’t take any more of it.

Eric had sensed weakness, and more than that, a chance to make an example of the former Candor. Initiates only respect the rules for so long; it takes a public display for them to realize the consequences of breaking the rules. The rule about not tapping out of fights, especially, is an irritant to many of the trainees. Christina is the perfect reason for a little motivation to the rest.

So, Eric allows the fight to stop, much to the surprise of the other initiates. Only Four looks unaffected, likely because he knows what’s about to go down.

Eric stands by the fighting ring, helping Christina out. “You had too much, yeah? What happened?”

Christina’s voice is low and quiet. “I think she broke my nose, and I needed to stop.”

Although she was willing to tap out of the fight, Christina is apparently still too brash to keep the blame firmly on herself. “It wasn’t my fault, though. I didn’t think I would be fighting her. Y/N was supposed to be lower in the rankings, it would have changed the order of fighters around. Honestly, I don’t even know why she’s ranked as highly as she is, she’s not even that good. She’s kind of useless.”

All of a sudden, Eric’s humor for a display of power suddenly disappears, replaced by a cold hatred. “What did you say?”

Christina somehow regains the ability for critical thought, and wisely keeps her mouth shut. It doesn’t matter, though, because Eric has heard enough. He starts to guide Christina towards the exit, one hand on her back to keep her going.

As he walks, he whispers something in her ear, so quietly only Christina can hear. “Don’t you dare talk badly about your fellow initiates. You want to know why Y/N is so high in the rankings? It’s because she doesn’t tap out of fights. She isn’t weak.”

Christina flinches, not like the reaction will do her any good. Eric’s mind is made up, and the other trainees must be able to sense his anger, because they follow Eric and Christina out to the bridge.

Eric stops, and lifts Christina easily over the railing until his hands are the only thing keeping her from falling into the Pit. “Grab the rail.”

His voice is cold, colder than it usually is. Eric can hear shocked gasps coming from the other initiates, but he doesn’t turn to face them. Instead, he presents Christina with the options to hang from the bridge spanning the chasm, fall and die, or become one of the factionless. Unsurprisingly, Christina chooses to keep holding on to the rail.

Eric counts slowly, as painfully slowly as he can, treasuring every agonized cry from the girl hanging from the rail. It’s revenge, in a way, revenge for the fact that he cannot do anything to protect Y/N except for this. He can blame this act on Christina’s cowardice, and it is due to that in part, but mostly it’s because she tried to put down Y/N, and Eric won’t have anyone talking that way about his girl.

His girl. Eric likes that.

Eventually, he calls for time, and Tris immediately springs into action, helping Christina off of the rail. Y/N, however, does not go to her friend, but instead silently slips away and follows Eric into a quieter room, as if she can tell that something wasn’t right.

Her arms are folded, but Eric doesn’t think she believes him to be a monster. Not yet, at least. Eric can’t decide whether she would be right to believe it or not. “What was that about?”

Eric keeps his gaze firmly trained on the wall. “She tapped out of the fight. You can’t do that.”

Y/N shakes her head. “I saw your expression change when she was talking to you. What did she say?”

At last, Eric can’t keep his eyes from finding her any longer. “She insulted you. I couldn’t have that.”

Eric doesn’t know how he expects Y/N to react. Shock, maybe, or disgust. Fear has always been an option. Instead, she laughs.

“So, what, you were protecting my honor or something? I’m touched. That’s very sweet of you.”

Eric rolls his eyes. “I’m not sure I like your tone, initiate.”

Y/N’s smile just broadens. Eric belatedly realizes that he’s given her enough ammunition to last a lifetime, the realization that he’d do just about anything for her. He’s not sure that it’s a bad thing, though.

“For what it’s worth, I appreciate it. Good to know that you have my back.”

Eric shrugs. “She deserved it.”

Y/N smiles again. “Thanks anyway.”

She steps forward to kiss his cheek, then turns and leaves the room. Eric watches her go, his mind suddenly plunged into a daze. Shit, she likes him. This might be the best twist of fate he’s ever seen. Eric smiles to himself, and follows her out.

divergent tag list: @dindjarinneedsahug, @rogueanschel, @with-inked-solace

Is he a scary man covered in blood? Or is he my baby girl? Spot the difference