#not only does he follow me the whole way up and down the hill

[horse-heaven]

completely exhausted from sniff patrol at the farm

[kiss-me-cill-me]

Hi!!! I know it’s only a small idea but I wanted to request something for Emmett based on when he first puts his hand around Evelyns mouth to keep her quiet but instead he does it to the reader to keep her quiet, in whatever scenario you can think of. The way he looked was so hot with that eye contact it had me sweating 🥵

My dear anon, literally no idea is too small for Emmett. This man is so underappreciated it's a crime. I also decided to shoehorn in some inspiration from another one of my favorite snippets of Emmett thirst, which is the gif below of him looking through his rifle sights because hnnnnnnggg. Hope you don't mind ;) Thank you for requesting! <3

Distractions

Pairing: Emmett x Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Summary: The more time you spend around Emmett, the more distracted you get. And when you finally can't keep quiet about it any longer, Emmett has to take matters into his own hands (heh heh) and make you stay quiet.

Warnings: Smut, sexual tension, a whole lot of build-up, close call with a creature, kinda angry sex, quiet sex, biting

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

Distracted could not even begin to describe the way you were feeling.

The dim light forced you to squint as you watched Emmett - the scope of his rifle held out just in front of his face as he peered through the sights to scan for potential threats. He took his time, sweeping across the expanse of road stretched out in front of you. Making triple sure that nothing would jump out at you as you climbed down from where you were perched. 

The gun rested firmly against his squared shoulders, and you found your gaze trailing idly from there, down over the line of his arm. Somewhere from off in the distance, a pale yellow light illuminated him just enough for you to make out the soft hair on his forearms. You wanted so badly to reach out and touch him, but shook your head, chasing the thought away quickly. It wouldn’t do either of you any good if you startled him.

You refocused on his lips, which were parted slightly. In concentration, his tongue darted out to lick at the sliver of space between them. You wished you had something to hold onto and brace yourself with, against the wave of desire that moved through your whole body. 

But, aside from you and Emmett, the only other thing around was an old metal guardrail. And you really couldn’t risk releasing the noise that might hide in its depths. These days, anything that looked even remotely like it might creak was off limits.

A gentle breeze rustled his hair, and he lowered the rifle. He turned briefly to nod at you, once. It was safe. 

No words dared to fill the dark, empty space as both of you stepped carefully over the guardrail. Pausing at the top of the overpass to take one last look at the scene below, you stopped to reflect on the past two days. That was how long you’d been traveling for, and you’d been together with Emmett for only a bit longer.

Although, “together” was the operative word. You had been sticking close to each other, under some quiet but shared understanding that two people were often better than one, at least when it came to things like keeping watch while you camped out in the open, or scavenging for supplies. But he and you weren’t together together, as much as your mind liked to wander and go wild with possibilities. In fact-

Something suddenly caught your attention, and you snapped back into focus again, to see Emmett waving an arm at you. He was standing a short distance in front of you, partway down the hill that connected the overpass to the wide road below. Staring up at where you stood, with an inquisitive look and just a hint of concern in his eyes, half hooded with shadow.

You gave him a thumbs up, and cautiously started to make your own way down the steep hill.

It was early. So early that it was still almost full dark out, and you followed the beam of the flashlight that Emmett held like a beacon. Usually, you weren’t out until after the sun had risen. But last night, neither of you had seemed able to sleep, and so it felt silly to waste time just sitting around when it would be light in a few hours.

You thought you could glimpse the first few streaks of dawn, just barely starting to leak out on the horizon. Goosebumps spread over your skin, in the chilly half-darkness. Emmett had loaned you a checkered bandana, and you reached up to tuck it a little more snugly into the neck of your jacket. The rough fabric brushed up against your chin, and you smiled.

In front of you, Emmett stopped short. You were only a few paces away from him now, and you paused just behind him, before you could bump into the hand he’d extended to stop you.

The hill didn’t sit fully flush with the ground below. Instead, it dropped sharply off at a stone wall, just a few feet above the road.

Emmett kept one hand pressed to his rifle, holding it still as he eased himself down; careful to not make even the smallest noise. You shuffled up to the edge of the wall, ready to follow right after him. As you stooped down, Emmett reached up, offering help.

You accepted it, awkwardly, and let him take one of your hands in his while the other came firmly to rest on the small of your back. As he guided you down, you felt your arms heat up, rapidly chasing away the goosebumps.

You looked at him once your feet were back on solid ground, slightly surprised by the physical contact. Not that it meant anything. Not that it was even anything worth getting excited about. He would probably do the same thing for anyone. He was just being helpful. 

Abruptly, you realized he’d already started to walk away, continuing on the journey that you were both supposed to be focused on. You hurried to catch up, but made sure your footsteps were soft as you followed.

With no opportunities to talk, the time spent traveling felt long. You were both in your own worlds; Emmett focused on scanning for danger, and you, well, distracted by watching him. As usual. 

It was probably best for both of you that Emmett hadn’t yet noticed the way your gaze lingered on him. But, that was just how he’d been, in all of the short time you’d known him. He was observant, and overly anxious to keep an eye out at all times. He seemed almost not to notice anything that wasn’t actively threatening his safety, and that included you.

Streaks of pink started to stretch across the sky, and then blended into the blue of a new day. Finally, it was light enough to see clearly, and you looked around at what was once a small town. You were just passing through, but the devastation that was clearly written across streets, stores, and houses felt unsettling. 

To your left, a sharp, unexpected sound made your blood run ice cold. Emmett froze right along with you, and you both whipped around to watch as an animal scampered away from a trash can, now tipped over and spilling out garbage onto the street.

Litter was the very least of your worries, though, as an all-too-familiar screech echoed across the empty street.

What shit luck. That was the only thought running through your mind as Emmett frantically dragged you by the arm, not wasting even a second more as the creature advanced. It was close by, and you had nowhere to hide. 

Apparently Emmett did, though, as he forcefully shoved you into the backseat of a car. Both of the doors, you noticed, were missing - completely torn off by some previous run-in with these monsters, by the looks of it.

As your back landed against the cloth seat cushions, you felt the wind knock out of your lungs. The soft sound of breath leaving your body was silenced, as Emmett slammed down on top of you, hastily bringing a hand to your mouth.

Your eyes blew wide as his body pressed fully into yours, stealing your breath in a quite different way. A sound caught in your throat, and you swallowed it down, hard. You were not about to get both you and him killed by moaning at a time like this.

His palm pressed down over your nose and lips, and you could feel the heat of your own breath as he stayed there, not focused on you but still scanning, even now, for the monster that sounded like it had finally arrived. The metallic sound of the trash can echoed out on the street.

You moved your head a little, trying to shake out of his almost-oppressive grasp to breathe easier. That finally seemed to get Emmett’s attention, and he looked down with a mix of horror and embarrassment as his hand pulled away. Still pressed tight together, you both shifted your attention to more urgent matters. 

You could still hear that thing wreaking havoc as it searched fruitlessly for the source of the sound. Sometimes you were almost impressed that the creatures could hunt at all, when they were the ones who were making the most noise out of anything. Anything left, anyway. This was a bad case of wrong place, wrong time, but for the most part, anyone who hadn’t learned early on to stay quiet was no longer around to learn.

Emmett’s arms, planted on either side of your head, tensed as his fingers dug into the seat cushions. In any other situation, this would have been pleasant. As things were now, though, you could feel both your heartbeat and his as they pounded together, hard enough to cross the thick barrier of bone and flesh.

The car lurched, and you felt your eyes bug out of your head. The creature was on top of you now, quite literally; you could hear a sharp groan as the car protested under its weight. A series of clicks told you that it was on the offensive, still searching for even the tiniest sound.

Another sharp jerk made you gasp, barely audibly, but loud enough for Emmett to press his rough hand over your mouth again. This time, he was a bit more careful, leaving you room to breathe out of your nose as he pushed his palm down on your lips. But the panic that swarmed in his eyes as you looked up told you exactly how he felt. You both stayed stock still, waiting to see if that little sound had been enough to give you away.

The car screamed even louder as the creature stepped off, lurking its way down onto the street, now on the other side of the vehicle. You stretched your neck to look back, and watched as it swiveled its head side to side. Thankfully not listening in your direction for too long. 

Cautiously, you dared to move just a few inches, wiggling and brushing your hips up against Emmett’s as you tried to make yourself more comfortable. As you did, though, the unmistakable feeling of something hard pressed into your thigh.

You looked up at him, your eyes straining with horror as both of you realized what had just happened. 

Emmett looked even more mortified than you felt; his lips pressed together in a tight line as his eyes seemed to beg for a way out of this. You threw him a panicked, questioning look. In reply, all he could do was reflect the same painful and wide-eyed face, as if to say, “What do you want me to do about it?”

There wasn’t much either one of you could do, however, as in that moment the creature’s head whirled back around with a sharp screech in your direction. You’d been quiet, you thought, although maybe the sound of your breath mixed with Emmett’s as he strained against you was enough to grab its attention again.

You both froze, and you quickly buried your face in his chest, tucking yourself away from the horrible fate that awaited you, as best you could. 

But, after a few harrowing seconds, you heard the creature move on. The sound of its clicks grew more distant as it ran off, still searching for prey.

You let out a huge breath, silently this time, and lifted your head from your hiding place. As you pulled away slightly from where you had curled up against him, you saw Emmett still looking down at you, horrified. You wondered why, for a second, before realizing your fingers were tangled firmly in his belt loops, desperately pressing his hips against yours as you’d braced for your end.

Now, though, that the danger had passed, all you were doing was grinding yourself firmly against his erection. Which had definitely not gone away, despite all the imminent, life-threatening danger.

Emmett’s hand brushed against yours, and your heart skipped, only for him to pry your fingers apart, releasing himself from your death grip. He refused to make eye contact with you; instead awkwardly shuffling out of the car, and facing away as you crawled out after him.

Your heart was still thundering in your chest, maybe even a bit louder than it had been as you were being stalked by the monster. You wished desperately to be able to talk to Emmett; you hadn’t said more than two words to him since you’d set out earlier this morning. That wasn’t unusual, but if there was ever a time when you wished for the ability to communicate, it was right now.

You scanned quickly for any safe space. Now that you had time to actually assess your surroundings, you noticed several buildings with wide open doors. You tugged Emmett’s sleeve, silently telling him to follow you.

He did follow, somewhat reluctantly, and soon you were deep in the relative safety of the stockroom of a small store, your weapons and backpacks cast quickly aside. Someone who had been here before you had taken the time to shove mattresses up against every wall - added protection to muffle any sounds from within. Finally, you could speak.

“Emmett…”

But where could you even begin? Did you admit that you had feelings for him? Would that only scare him away? Maybe scaring him was good; if that was what a little adrenaline had done to him, part of you felt tempted to put him in even more dangerous situations. But, then again, if that’s all it had been, then maybe he didn’t like you at all. At least, not in the way you liked him. As you quietly wrestled with indecision, Emmett took over the conversation.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, still not meeting your gaze. “I didn’t mean- I’m… Fuck.”

“Sorry?” you echoed. “What are you sorry for?”

“For…”

Emmett trailed off; his face twisted into a new expression of pained awkwardness. The tension was thick enough to wrap solidly around your ankles, rooting you to the spot where you stood. 

Emmett shuffled, apparently still restless despite the heavy pressure that had settled over the small room. Your whole body felt weighed down, and yet you were still buzzing with the unchecked excitement that always came after surviving a close call. Your veins felt ready to burst.

“Shit, is it hot in here?” you wondered. 

While outside you’d been freezing in the cold morning air, suddenly in here you felt flushed. Maybe Emmett wasn’t the only one who’d been affected by the adrenaline rush.

You peeled off your jacket, and looked up to see Emmett’s eyes glued to you.

“What?”

“Nothing. I’m-”

You cut Emmett off before he could finish his sentence. 

“Don’t say you’re sorry again,” you whispered, a bit more harshly than necessary. “You don’t need to apologize if it’s nothing.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Emmett sighed. 

“So it’s not nothing?”

“What’s not nothing?” Emmett shot back, exasperated. “The way that I’ve been trying my best to ignore you looking at me like you want to rip my clothes off for the last week?”

You stared back at him with renewed horror. It hadn’t really been that obvious, had it? You had felt certain he hadn’t noticed you staring.

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” you gasped. 

“Because I didn’t want what just happened to happen!”

“Nothing just happened,” you hissed.

Now you were the one spitting out denials. The oppressive atmosphere grew hotter, and you felt the need to strip off more layers. Not that doing that would be particularly helpful right now.

“Look, Emmett - do you like me?”

You figured that asking him point blank would get you the most direct answer. Instead, he looked at you as if you’d just grown an extra two heads.

And you might as well have, for all the good your current one was doing you. You racked your brain for another strategy, growing increasingly frustrated by the second.

“Do I like you?” Emmett said finally, interrupting your frenzy of thoughts. “What kind of question is that?” “It’s the kind that I’d sure like an answer to,” you replied. “If we’re going to be able to move forward from this, one way or another.”

Emmett glared at you, incredulous, his mouth hanging open as the rest of his face twisted into a look that was hard to read. Just when you thought he was going to turn on his heel and walk out, he took a step closer to you.

In the next breath, he’d grabbed your shoulders and pulled you in, quickly stifling your gasp with his lips.

Kissing Emmett felt like fighting for air, and like having it pumped directly into your lungs. All at the same time, and all scorchingly hot as his lips seared against yours. The torturous days spent fantasizing about this exact moment flashed before your eyes, as you tried to search for some hint that you’d missed to suggest that he felt the same way. Had you really been so wrapped up in your own pining that you hadn’t noticed him struggling, too?

As you both pulled back, you stared at him in shock. Emmett’s eyes were on your lips, too downcast for you to catch his gaze. But finally, they flickered up and lit the spark that had been smoldering deep inside of you. Your fingers tightened over his clothes

“Why didn’t you say anything?!” you asked again, feverish. It was a challenge to keep your voice quiet.

“Say anything about what?” Emmett bit back.

You noticed the way his eyes drifted over you, taking in the frazzled and overwhelmed state you were in. That kiss had taken a lot out of you, and you were frantically scrambling to re-collect your thoughts.

“Why torture both of us by pretending that you don’t want the same thing I do?” you clarified.

Emmett’s hands traveled up to your face, cupping your jaw in his palms as he tugged gently, pulling you to meet him again.

“Because I didn’t want any distractions.”

That was probably the most ironic answer he could have given. What had you spent the past few days doing if not being constantly, thoroughly distracted? By him; by the question of whether or not he would notice you, in the way that you found it all but impossible not to notice him?

“That’s so stupid,” you grunted, closing the rest of the distance between you.

You barely resisted as Emmett maneuvered you, swinging you both with your lips pressed together so that he could pin you against a small table. He lifted you up, making you sit on the surface, as his rough hands wandered over your legs.

“Some of us have self control,” he informed you.

“Really? Who?”

His fingers tightened their grip, and you felt thankful that you were already seated. Without the support of the table, you almost certainly would have crumpled against him. Emmett’s waist was between your legs, and you squeezed desperately, not wanting to let him go in case he suddenly got the idea that this wasn’t the time or place.

And it wasn’t, but you weren’t about to let that stop you.

Emmett’s hand snaked under your shirt, then your bra, rubbing his thumb against the hard peak that had already formed. You bit his lip, cautiously at first, and then with more vigor as your bodies reacted to the other’s touch. It had been so long since you’d done anything like this, and you felt your legs growing more shaky already.

“Take my pants off,” you gasped, pulling away for a frenzied breath of air.

Emmett deftly popped the button on your jeans; practically growling at the sight of you once he had finally peeled them off. You settled back onto the table, and hooked your legs around him once more. Already wet, you could feel yourself stick to the cloth of his t-shirt.

“Fuck,” you sighed, bracing your hands on the table to push closer.

Emmett pulled back, and just as you were about to complain, you felt his hand drift down and brush through your folds. Shivering all over again, you threw your head back.

“We shouldn’t be doing this here,” Emmett muttered, just like you’d thought he would.

“I don’t care. Need to feel you,” you moaned, grabbing his wrist and guiding his fingers right where you wanted them.

You let go, urging him to take over. Despite his reluctance, Emmett seemed all too willing to be pulled along. His fingers sank into you, eliciting a long whine.

“Be quiet,” he reminded you.

But, luckily, the threat of making enough noise to be noticed by whatever monsters were lurking outside wasn’t enough to stop him. He pressed deeper, curling his fingers and brushing the pad of his thumb dangerously close to the bundle of nerves that would almost certainly seal your fate. It was a dangerous game, and every whimper that threatened to escape your lips could be your last, if it was loud enough.

“Fuck.”

Your legs were sore from walking for days, and it hurt as he spread them. It felt good, though; the deep stretch serving to set your imagination on fire with all the possibilities that were unlocking with every twinge of your sore muscles. 

“Emmett.” You put a hand on his shoulder. “I… I want more than your fingers.”

“Don’t push it,” he warned. “You’re already causing enough trouble as is.”

You pouted, but felt something stir inside of you at his words. If you had anything to say about it, you would show him just how much trouble you could be.

“I didn’t realize this was such an- inconvenience for you,” you snapped, voice hitching in the middle as he hit that spot that made you see stars.

“I didn’t want you to realize,” he shot back. 

“And yet, look where we’ve ended up. Despite your best efforts.”

The devilish smirk that played out over your lips seemed to make Emmett falter, and you felt him brush against your clit again. You had to bite your lip to stop from screaming.

Teetering dangerously on the edge of destruction only made you more eager to press on. The adrenaline from earlier had started to resurge, and you clung to it, heart beating fast in your ears as you rapidly approached your climax.

“Emmett. Gonna come,” you warned, already out of breath before you began.

Wordlessly, Emmett kissed you again, and you felt yourself explode against him. His thumb traced circles over your clit, somehow feather-light but solid, all at once. You cursed against his lips, maybe a little louder than you should have, but it was too late to take back now. As your high faded, you listened carefully for the shrill screech that would let you know you’d been caught.

It never came, and slowly you allowed yourself to start breathing again. Leaning over you, Emmett pressed his forehead against yours.

“That was way too close,” he complained.

“But worth it,” you hummed. “C’mon. Now it’s your turn.”

Eyes still half-clouded with sex, you struggled for a few seconds to find his zipper. As soon as you’d started to pull it down, Emmett stopped you.

“We’ve barely survived the last hour,” he scoffed. “And now you want me to fuck you?”

“I was just gonna jerk you off,” you lied. “But hey. If you want…”

Emmett’s face turned bright red as he realized the corner he’d been backed into. 

“Come on - you weren’t complaining two seconds ago,” you teased. “Well, I mean, you were. But you seemed into it.”

Emmett sighed, but his shoulders stiffened as you reached past his zipper and took hold of him. He was definitely still into it.

You slid off the table but stayed pressed against it, leaning back slightly as you pulled him out and pressed his head flush to your core. He slipped in easily, already slick with your arousal and unable to resist the pull of your body.

You sighed, and that was enough to make Emmett grab hold of you again, burying himself all the way in with one thrust.

The shock of it was sudden, but you quickly recovered and pulled him in closer, greedily pressing him as far as he could go.

“This is exactly what I’ve wanted,” you hummed, smiling contentedly.

Emmett’s only response was a grunt, as he pushed deeply into you again, dragging his hips back before snapping forward. His hands were holding onto your arms, keeping you steady against the sharp edge of the table. Both of you hung onto each other for dear life.

“Goddamn distracting…” Emmett muttered. It sounded like only part of a sentence, but you didn’t catch the rest. Too wrapped up in the way he was filling you.

Without warning, he pulled all the way out. He flipped you around, bracing your palms against the table, and then sank back in. You felt your walls tighten around him as you moaned, a little louder.

Fingers splayed over the grain of the wood, you clawed at the table as Emmett pummeled into you, picking up speed to match the erratic beat of your heart. Your eyes screwed shut, chasing the pleasure that steadily built in your stomach.

“Shit. I’m gonna come again,” you gasped, already feeling the waves wash over you.

From behind, Emmett’s hand reached around to slap over your mouth, one more time, pulling your head back a little as he continued to rut into you. You made a muffled sound of protest, but he kept going.

You didn’t have long to concern yourself with comfort, as you were quickly overtaken by pleasure. You let yourself give in; surrendering to the feeling that coursed through you, and the way that his hips never stopped snapping up to meet yours, and the rough palm he held over your mouth. Which was fortunate, actually, because without Emmett’s hand stifling your sounds, they almost certainly would have gotten you both killed.

“Mmmf!”

You tried and failed to bite back the cry that threatened to erupt, only halted by Emmett as he succeeded in keeping his hand steady. 

But it was clear he was close behind you. His hips bucked up with far less precision than they had a few minutes ago, and you could feel him tear out at the very last second, leaving you empty.

“Mmm!”

You cried again as you felt Emmett bite down, his mouth clamped onto your shoulder as he came, stifling his own desperate growl. His cum went not into you but all over you, coating the inside of your legs before he could stop himself. Emmett had clearly waited slightly too long to pull out. 

The soft grunt that vibrated through his teeth sent a shiver down your whole body, followed by another as he rubbed himself into the mess that was now dripping between your legs. Chasing the feel of your combined lust and the friction of your thighs.

“Self control, huh?” you goaded, once he had finally pulled his hand off of your mouth.

“More than you.”

Emmett’s rough voice was right in your ear, and you felt his chest press into your back, breathing heavy to make up for lost air.

“Well,” you said, a bit breathless yourself. “I guess we’ll just have to see about that.”

Taglist: @cillmequick, @hanawrites404, @hypotheticallyspeakingwitch, @littlewinter1917, @mothhball, @nnattu, @red-riding-wood, @slut4thebroken

[just-some-random-blogger]

Bright Eyes | 1

Part 2

Prince Aemond's marriage was borne out of necessity and political advantage. Let it never be said that he did not know duty, for duty was what kept Aemond Targaryen grounded. But in truth, the prince felt cheated by the match, for he felt his wife was getting scraps as her dowry. After all, she was chosen for him because of her family's wealth and resources. It was then rather scandalous when the icy prince became temperate to his bride.

Aemond Targaryen x Reader | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, arranged marriage au, smut (virginity loss, vaginal penetration), reluctant lovers ig, typos, etc.

A/N: HIIII THIS IS PART OF THE HOUSE OF THE DRAGON BIG BANG CELEBRATION 🎉🎉🎉 I split mine into 3 parts but I can only post the other 2 parts here on Tumblr after the whole event has ended to respect and give way for the other submissions. It will be available on AO3 to read though so yeah! Thank you so much to the love of my life @ewanmitchellcrumbs for making the art for me (and in such short notice too cos my artist unfortunately deactivated their Tumblr). I'm so luv youuuu Also i haven't written anything for hotd in a while so i don't remember who I'm supposed to tag so kejhshs surprise! And enjoy ig!!! HIHIHI

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa

"Perhaps," I extend a hand to him, "you ought to hold my hand."

Aemond straightens from where he stood, lone eye darting from his feet, to my hand, to my face. He finds offence in this offer, a line threatens to dig deep between his brows.

"The-" I trail off and look away, my gloved hand, however, does not retreat, "-terrain is quite bumpy." I look back to him expectantly, "I know the land well. It would be easier for me to lead you through-"

"Then lead me," Aemond cuts, both hands going behind him, "skip the fussing."

I purse my lips and watch him for a moment.

The wind strengthens. It blows past me yet I do not move with it, even with my thick dress pulling me back. In contrast, Aemond shuffles in his spot, his coat catching the gush of wind and his hair raking his skin. I had offered to braid Aemond's hair to keep it out of his face and he said he could manage because what was the breeze on a meadow compared to the ripping air at the back of a dragon?

He realizes meadow was too kind a term for this patch of land I was showing him. It was a hellscape, not lush or flowery like a meadow at all. The field stretched out to a cliff, and below it laid viscous waves that added to the horrible weather.

I nod and bring my hands to my skirts instead, "please watch your step. A few more paces, we'll reach the area that has many-"

Aemond grunts when he steps on a hidden divot. His heel digs into the mushy surface and he nearly twists his ankle.

I whip my head back and look at him, finally completing my thought, "-holes in the ground."

He clenches his jaw and yanks his foot out of the muck. I silently turn away and continue walking.

The prince mumbles to himself as he follows me.

Finally, I reach the top of the slope. I situate myself atop a rock and look down at the land. I clasp my hands together as I feel the man walk up beside me. I make it a point to really just let the silence simmer, to let him take in the view, though in truth, there really wasn't much of it. It was just-

"Dirt as far as the eye can see."

I turn to Aemond when he says this.

"How good," he purses his lips and brings his hands behind him, "I've always wanted a hill of dirt all for myself."

I slowly step down from the rock and lift my eyes up to my husband-to-be.

"Vhagar might even like it," he says, lone eye scrutinizing me then the land, which was part of my dowry.

It was the worst pickings from my family, that much was clear. But with my three older brothers set to inherit much of my house's estate, I couldn't really complain, after all, I was the youngest... and a woman.

Aemond, of course, would do the complaining, as he has been.

"I am glad to hear that, my prince," I offer a smile.

The look Aemond gives me is one of astonishment. I can practically make out how his covered eye widened underneath his eye patch. He mutters under his breath, "gods, she's fucking thick."

I pretend I don't hear it and follow after the man when he begins to walk away.

The long haired blonde struggles yet again against the uneven terrain. I no longer make the mistake of offering my assistance. For his sake, or perhaps my own, I leave a good distance between the two of us, so that if he were to topple, even if I did instinctively reach out to him again, he would be too far to reach.

I mirror his steps, right leg moving only after his did. Of course, I did not step in the holes and bumps that were so obvious to me. Still, I tail him diligently.

This was why I froze when he turned back and scowled at me.

"What are you doing?" asks the prince with furrowed brows.

I part my lips, "I-"

"Come here," he reaches out, "I have things to discuss with you."

My eyes turn to his extended hand. I look at his large, ruddy palm and feel my belly swirl in reaction. Apprehensively, I place my hand in his, and he rather discourteously snags me close to him. It nearly costs me my balance, but I'm glad it doesn't.

I watch as Aemond links our arms together before he walking off. My eyes dart from his bicep to his profile. I take in the shape of his nose and think about how our children would inherit it. I press my lips into a line at the thought.

"Our marriage is that of convenience," he turns to me, "and duty."

When Aemond does not continue, I tighten my lips together and nod.

He looks away and walks at a slower pace, "we are to be married in a few days time, and after that, you will no longer belong to your house, you will belong to mine," I notice how his expression hardens, "you will belong to me."

"I understand this," I retort.

He tilts his head, "do you?"

I nod, "I do," I tighten my grip on his arm, "my whole life I have been groomed to be the perfect wife. Once I am yours, everything that I am will be for you."

Aemond's face is blank when he looks at me, and yet I can tell he wishes me to clarify.

So I do, "I will be your wife, your princess, the lady of your house, the mother of your children. I am for you... and you for me."

"Mmm," he looks away and adjusts my grip on him. He loosens it, "yes."

For a moment, we both simply walk on the rocky ground.

Aemond draws a deep breath and turns his head to gaze upon the façade of what would be his castle after our marriage. It was a shabby little thing, run down and without servants, but it was situated in a strip of land that would prove to be beneficial if, say, war came.

"Your father is character," Aemond starts, "a rather ambitious man, wouldn't you agree?"

"He is," I chew my lip, "if he could, he'd take the stars and put them on his walls."

The prince hums, "do you share in his ambition?"

"I-"

He squeezes my arm. He throws a look, as if displeased that I would answer so quickly.

I raise my brows, retaining what I meant to answer, though saying it much slower than I would have, "I have no other ambition than to be a dutiful bride. My ambition is your ambition."

Aemond does not respond nor speak up until we make it back to the carriage.

There, both our mothers are waiting, both equally pleased by our return.

"There they are," my mother says with a smile, "I trust you enjoyed your stroll, my prince."

Aemond eyes my mother as he breaks away from me to walk over to his. Queen Alicent smiles at his son and brushes the hair that was flying to his face.

"The walk was too aggravating to be enjoyed. There was not a single patch of leveled ground," the prince say, "I doubt even sheep would enjoy it here."

I play off my agitation while my mother laughs, "you needn't worry about the ground being level, prince Aemond. You'll have peasants to do that for you."

I walk towards my mother when she reaches out to me. She smiles and takes my hand, "come, my daughter. Today will be your last day as my baby."

I lock gazes with Aemond as my mother kisses my temple.

I feel embarrassment creep up my cheeks.

The honest truth was, I don't remember what happened between that moment and when my husband was undoing the back of my dress. I vaguely remember the wedding, sharing dances with my brothers, with Aemond's brothers, with Helaena. I can recall King Viserys retiring early because of his headache, but then again, he did this often, so it could simply be a memory from another day.

All I know was that Aemond's fingers were hard, hot, and nimble. What would have taken me ages to take off my dress, he did so in a few seconds. I do my best not to breathe heavily, but even though I was not facing him, I couldn't seem to keep from heaving.

It was quite dark. The few candles that were lit did not really help in illuminating the room, but that did not make the idea of being naked in front of a man any easier for me.

My hammering heart commanded my eyes shut as the feverish dragon stripped me bare before him. I swear his touch burned my shivering skin as he slowly revealed my body to himself. I feel him brush his palms down my arms as he pulled my dress down my shoulders. Soon enough my entire body prickled as my shift dropped to my feet.

I cover my breasts with my arm and block my sex with my hand.

"Would you like to undress me, wife?" he mutters.

I feel the hair on the back of my neck raise when I feel his hot breath hit my skin. It was such a plainly worded question, yet it made me want to jump out of the window.

I slowly turn my head, opening my eyes to steal a look of him from over my shoulder. I don't know why, but I say, "yes."

The fact was I didn't. I didn't want to undress him. I would like to think it was quite apparent with how I slowly turned and apprehensively uncovered myself to be able to undress him.

I did not know why I was so shocked that he was unabashedly eyeing my body. I did not know why I was so shocked when his hands reached out to my waist, when his fingers pressed into my flesh, and his nails left marks on my skin. I let out a squeak and fidgeted with his shirt as he did so.

He only releases me when I pull his top off. I step out of my shift, bunched by my ankles, and walk closer to him to undo his breeches. I do not look at his face once, but I know he is still looking at me.

Once his ties were loose, I ghost my fingertips by his waistband, uncertain and hesitant of what to do next.

Recognizing this, he takes my wrists, but he freezes the next moment, clearly not expecting me to do what I did next.

I kissed him. I tilted my head and pressed my lips against his. It was chaste-- probably how I kissed him when we were proclaimed man and wife, but gods did it make my body burn.

I lick my lips after pulling away. I think about clutching his face, and so I do. I reach out to his cheeks and shift on my toes, leaning in for another peck.

I whimper when he pulls me flush against his chest. The contrast of my softer, colder body on his leaner, warmer one was something welcome. Apart from his hands tugging me close, it was like his very essence was drawing me into him.

We do not break our kiss even as he pushes me towards the bed, not even as I topple back and land on the mattress. There is a desperation in his kisses, as if the act of ending it would cause him harm.

He guides me underneath him. He parts my legs and makes room for himself between them. He rubs against me, and it is then I am reminded that I had failed to strip him fully naked. He immediately moves to remedy this, which is then when he pulls away.

When he does so, he rips at his trousers, hell-bent on freeing himself in as little time as possible.

Aemond gets on his knees and gracelessly pulls his remaining clothing off. It may have been dark but I could see him. I could see all of him now. It made my core pulse with excitement, dread, anticipation, and apprehension all at once.

I sigh when he sinks down and presses against me. He kisses me again and I feel his hardened length press against my belly.

I mold my body against him, curling myself in a way that fit snug with his form. I bring my thighs against his hips and feel encouraged when his hand squeeze and pull them closer to him.

He breaks our kiss to draw in a much needed breath and the haze that built in my mind grows thicker when Aemond begins to trail his lips down my jaw and neck. My nails find their way to his spine when he begins to buck his hips into me.

My skin prickles and my heart pounds when he whispers something into my ear. I did not know what he said, but I was certain it was High Valyrian. I was also somehow certain it had something to do with the way I felt.

Aemond hums and sinks his nose behind my ear. I whimper in response, arms tightening around him. I embrace him like I did not intend to let him go, and it truth, I really didn't.

"You make such pretty sounds for me."

I feel embarrassment creep up my cheeks. I am glad he does not see it.

I make another sound when I feel Aemond's hand trail between my thighs. We both hiss when his fingers find my sensitive center.

He pushes himself up on one arm and lifts his body. Aemond grabs himself and makes me yelp when he rubs his cock against my folds. It was then I realized how wet I've become. 

He does this for a while. He coats himself with my dampness. He continues until I feel my body drip with sweat and arousal, until the arm keeping him up tires, and then I feel him slowly push into me.

When he does so, he sinks down and fits into me oh-so perfectly. The intrusion was not at all uncomfortable, in fact, it made my belly burn with need.

I find myself kissing the crook of his neck as he laid atop me. I feel him sigh in response.

"Please," I whisper, thighs rubbing against him, "I need more."

Aemond wastes no time in attending to my plea.

I mewl when he begins to thrust his hips. His movements are short and tight; he barely pulls out. He continues like this then changes pace when he grabs the back of my knees and pushes them close to my ribs. His movements grow bolder, more deliberate and harder.

He, himself, makes pretty sounds as he moves into me. 

I feel sweat begin to build on my skin. I feel a pressure begins to tighten in me.

"Take my seed like a dutiful wife," he kisses my jaw, "I'll put a dragon in you."

My back arches, "Aemond."

"I wish to see you full of me," his one hand comes up to my breast and squeezes it, "I wish to fill you with me."

"P-please fill me," I respond with a shaky voice.

Aemond grunts, "I will."

My heart nearly stops when I feel burning pleasure break into me. My mouth releases the remaining air in my lungs as it calls out my husband's name.

Aemond makes gutteral noises as his movements grow rough and eventually stop.

I bury my face into his shoulder and catch my breath. Aemond follows suit but takes only a few breaths before lifting himself up and rolling off me.

He brings my legs together and covers my form with a blanket. I tense when he stands and walks off, feeling a panic come over me when he disappears. It only intensifies when he does not come back quickly.

I am about to sit up but then I freeze when I see him walk over to me. He is now clothed and had something in his hand.

"Clean yourself up," he places something on the bedside table, "you will not enjoy it when you wake," he turns to me, "I suggest you get dressed as well. You are rather cold."

I feel my body burn as Aemond walks off, circling the bed, coming under the sheets on his side.

I do as he says, slowly pushing the blanket off, feeling a chill run down my spine when my bare feel touch the cold ground. I stand and see that there was a wash basin on the table, as well as a towel.

I take in a deep breath and wipe myself down with warm water that was prepared for me. Once I was done, I examine the floor and pick up my shift. I put it on and put out the candles. 

I climb into bed and do my best not to touch Aemond. My voice breaks when I call out, "good night."

He does not respond so I tell myself he was asleep. It takes a while for me to do the same.

[lanabuckybarnes]

Empty words.

This has been in my drafts for a bit but it's rotting my brain. I’m sad so I’m making everyone else sad.

Fluff with a sad end. I’m not that good at writing angst.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: Insinuated character death?

ALWAYS (Sequal)

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

It was no secret that Bucky had the heart eyes for the little nurse who had just transferred. The way her bright eyes were permanently blown wide giving her that scared little doe look or the way she still looked adorable covered in someone's blood, he couldn’t decide what had made him fall into the jaws of love.

Or maybe it was that time she’d saved his ass, yeah, it was probably that.

Bucky had been out on the frontline when a single wrong move had cost him, a bullet lodged itself straight in the shoulder, only a centimetre from his beating heart. For 3 days he’d been out due to an infection racking his body, punishment for not seeking adequate treatment once it had occurred but when he awoke with a startle and his eyes laid on her soft-looking features he decided that maybe almost dying was worth it.

What he didn’t expect was for his pretty little nurse to be so damn stubborn when it came to his advances.

For the entire time he was in the infirmary he’d tried to wow her with that silver tongue of his, from promises to take her dancing to much more sinful ones— he’d tried it all and she still said no. This would be harder than what he thought.

After having to be practically kicked out of his infirmary bed she’d started receiving small gifts. A single rose appeared first and she’d inhaled its soft scent with a smile before placing it down to complete her paperwork.

A small collection of ration chocolate was next, a sweet gesture that she’d gladly gulped down late at night while reading her favourite novel.

Her favourite though had to be a beautiful handwritten note, the contents filled with words that no other man could ever think of much less write it down. His words were poet-like, she could feel herself begin to swoon.

Eventually, the anonymous sender had bucked up the confidence to deliver his letters by hand, who would’ve guessed it would’ve been the smart-mouthed Sargent? They’d finished that night on the grassy hills of the base, a flask of malt between them, his thick coat around her body while she rested her head softly against his shoulder.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The next time they’d found time to meet it was hot, far too hot. The men had stripped down, their military coats strewn about the camp and their shirts unbuttoned. Not Sargent Barnes though. He had a date and he intended to look the part.

What a horrible mistake that was.

She’d gotten away early from her duties at the infirmary. They walked along the beach, the sun high in the sky, it was killing him but he’d be dammed if he let her see.

When she turned from her conversation to look at him, a giggle bubbled from her throat.

“Buck you’re sweating, take off that coat.” The collar and back of it were a deep brown from his sweat.

“Ah ah, I gotta look good for my lady” he retorted, truthfully, he was exhausted under those layers and she refused to let him get sunstroke because he was trying to impress her.

Her fingers made quick work of the gold embellished buttons, popping them one by one before setting her sights on the belt. He couldn’t help but grin.

“You know if you wanted me naked, all you had to do was ask Sweetheart” he teased letting his thumb and forefinger pinch her chin- she returned his affection with a sweaty hand to his face, pushing it away softly.

He’d placed his coat on the sand and guided her to sit, following suit just after. They spoke for a while before Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed, she was squinting in the sun and he didn’t like when she was uncomfortable in any way.

“Here” he mumbled removing his hat and placing it gently atop her head. Although he’d acted nonchalant about the whole gesture, he couldn’t bear to hide the true effect it had on him.

He’d leaned forward slowly, placing a large hand around the back of her neck and swallowing her words in a soft kiss. Their first ever one together.

“Makes me happy when you wear my clothes” his voice hummed against her lips, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Yeah? Why is that?” She’d asked with a shy giggle.

“Yeah… it lets me know that you are mine” he replied, sealing their mouths together again, this one full of raw passion and love.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

The barracks celebrations were in full swing, the reason long forgotten about after a few wines. Bucky had come from nowhere, his big stumbling body now stood in front of her and her friends.

“Hey, sweetheart!” He slurred, his body moving extremely quick for his drunken state, swiping her up from her chair and into a tight embrace. The kind that got tighter the more she struggled.

“Are you having a nice night Buck?” Her hands thread through his short fluffy hair, absentmindedly scratching at his scalp.

“Mhmmm” he hummed, a big jolly smile decorating his handsome features.

“Ladies” he turned his attention to the immaculately dressed women, bowing his head slightly in an expression of greeting.

Where had his hat gone? She found herself wondering.

“Do you mind if I steal this beautiful little lady from you? Just for a dance” he didn’t wait for their response, whisking her away.

There was already a handsome crowd of men dancing to the sweet romantic tunes on the radio with their ladies. They fit in perfectly— Bucky’s inebriation never seemed to affect the precise steps of his feet.

She could just about make out the words falling rhythmically from his lips. He was singing.

Bucky lay his forehead on hers, his feet not faltering, even after the song had long finished he never stopped swaying them.

“You..” his voice was slightly rasped from the whiskey “You are the best thing that has ever happened to me” he eventually whispered.

“Bucky-I”

“Shhhh shhh sh. My girl.” He cut her off, grabbing at her wrists to wrap her arms around his neck. To bring her closer.

“Come on Buck, let’s get you to bed” her words cut the quiet air between them. She had to pry herself from him, his face had melted into a pout. It was as though she was looking at a kicked puppy.

His face didn’t change the whole journey back to his tent.

Most of the men had passed out from their drunkenness but the men who were huddled together playing cards happily pointed her in the direction of the Sargent’s cot.

Making quick work of his clothes, much to Bucky’s drunken amusement. She’d pushed him to lie down and rolled his thin cover over his frame.

She pecked at his forehead, whispering a goodnight before standing to leave.

“Stay…” his hand has caught her wrist. His voice sounded small, almost broken. ‘Was he upset? Was it about his mission tomorrow?’

“I don’t want to go tomorrow, I finally have someone to look forward to. I don’t want to lose you” he sniffed, watching as her frame sank to sit on the edge of his cot.

She smiled sympathetically. Letting her hand come up to his cheek and smooth over the skin, collecting a stray tear on its travels.

“I know baby, but It’s your last mission. Then you can take me back to Brooklyn” she’d answered. She wished to continue, she wanted to say more, to comfort him more— no words would come out.

“I fucking love you” he groaned receiving a soft pat on the chest as she pretended to be angry at him.

“Hey now potty mouth, that is no way to talk in front of a lady” he practically hollered with laughter at that, the sound filled with amusement and disbelief.

“There is no woman in the world that would’ve done the things you’ve done to me and still think she was a lady” he joked, the men behind them laughing along with him.

“Sargent James Barnes” her tone accusing but she couldn’t hide the way her lips curled into a smile.

They’d sat in each other’s presence for a while before she stood, finally convinced he’d fallen asleep.

“Baby?” He asked, the words quiet, whistling the air.

“Yeah?”

“When I get you back to Brooklyn, I’m going to marry you so quick”. She could feel tears springing to her eyes at his confession, a confession she hoped would come true.

She leaned forward quickly, capturing his lips by surprise in a passionate kiss. His lips moved sloppier than usual but he kept up with her.

Pulling away gently she looked into his big blue eyes, no other emotion but love swirled through them. She pecked his lips for a final time before speaking.

“Come back to me James”.

“Always”.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

She’d been sitting at her desk when Steve had entered, a solemn look on his face.

“Steve, hey. Everything alright?” She’d asked with a smile. She took notice of the coat and hat in his hands, her heart fell first, it knew before the rest of her did, he didn’t have to speak.

“I’m sorry” Steve choked, setting down the items in his hand and turning to leave.

His hat, his coat but not him.

Not Bucky.

┉┈◈◉◈┈┉

I’m trying to practice writing angst but it’s so harddd.

Why oh why must I want to write sadness when all I can write is smut.

Hope you enjoy.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Do You Want to Keep Another Secret?

Part 2 of Do You Want to Keep a Secret?

Pairing: Dominique Luca x fem!reader

Summary: After the team finds out about Luca's secret girlfriend, he invites them over to share another secret involving a ring and an important question.

Warnings: more of the "book club" joke, Street's a good friend, Duke's a good boy, this is pure fluff

Word Count: 1.6k+ words

Picture from Pinterest

Masterlist Directory | Luca Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask. You look down to smooth your new outfit and miss Street’s dramatic eye roll.

“You look amazing. Duke thinks so, too,” he replies.

“But-“

“Future Mrs. Luca, it’s dinner with Deacon and Annie Kay, not an audition for the next season of The Bachelor.”

You chuckle before thanking Street. Since you met, he’s become a good friend, and you’re thankful for all he does for Luca. The nerves aren’t only about spending time around people you don’t know well but extend to your upcoming anniversary. You’ve been with Luca for a while, and although you’ve never been happier, you aren’t sure if you show him enough.

“Hey. Wow, you look beautiful!” Luca exclaims as he enters. “Ready to go?”

“Yes, she is,” Street answers, glaring at you. “Don’t let her change again.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about; you’ve met Deac,” Luca soothes. “And Annie is just as kind.”

You nod and lean against Luca’s side. With a wave to Street and a quick pat on Duke’s head, you follow Luca to his truck. He’s a gentleman, so he opens the door and leans in to buckle your seatbelt.

“I won’t tell you how to feel, but you look amazing, and I’ll be with you the whole time,” Luca promises.

Dinner went just as well as Luca and Street said it would. Deacon is kind and funny when he can talk without his team drowning him out. Annie complimented you and your outfit and made you feel like part of the family. There really was no reason to be nervous.

Returning to the truck, you’re in better spirits than when you arrived. Your smile is wide and bright, and Luca can’t keep his eyes off you. He kisses you before shifting the truck into reverse and backing out of Deacon and Annie’s driveway. You watch Luca drive and decide to do everything you can to stay by his side for the rest of your life.

As you walk into Luca’s house, Duke greets you happily, and Street is in the same spot as when you left. Street shakes his head when he sees your smile and murmurs something suspiciously like, “Told you so.”

“I’ve got an early morning, so I have to go,” you say apologetically. “Thank you, Luca. And thanks, Street, for the-“

“Common sense? No problem,” he interjects.

“Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” Luca asks.

“Our weekly coffee date,” Street answers. “We have to have a little privacy to talk about you.”

Luca looks between you and Street several times before shrugging. “Okay.”

You kiss Luca before walking out of the door. He ensures you’re safe in your car and on your way home before he returns and sits on the couch.

“Streeter, are you up for two more book club meetings?” he asks.

“For what?’ Street inquires. 

“Reading.”

“Welcome,” Street says as he opens the door. “This better not be a waste of our day off.”

“It won’t be,” Hondo answers. “What’s the word, Luca?”

Luca raises a velvet ring box and smiles. “You said we had to talk about it.”

“Then let’s skip to that,” Deacon agrees. “No more period romances.”

“Except for Luca’s. Modern day is still a period,” Street argues.

“That’s enough out of you, playboy,” Hondo jokes. “Lay it out, Luca.”

Luca joins his team in the living room and takes a deep breath. He has their support no matter what, and he knows the plan is good, but he’s nervous.

“Duke’s going to help me,” Luca begins. “I’m going to take her to a scenic overlook in the hills. We went there for one of our first dates and we still use it as an escape. With Duke’s help to carry the ring, I’m just going to wait for the right moment and ask her to marry me.”

“I don’t know, man,” Tan replies. “It could be bigger; like-“

“It’s perfect,” Deacon interrupts. “It means something to you, and her, and your relationship. That’s what is important.”

“She’s going to love it,” Street agrees. “And she will say yes, so stop stressing.”

“There’s just…” Luca says before shrugging.

“If not for you, she’ll say yes to Duke,” Chris teases.

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Luca says. He finally smiles again, and Deacon decides that you’re the best thing that has happened to Luca.

“Wait! You said two book clubs,” Street remembers. “What’s the next one?”

“I’ll let you know after she says yes.”

“A picnic with Duke?” you repeat.

“Uh, yeah, unless you’re busy,” Luca answers.

He’s glad he decided to call you rather than ask you in person. He shifts his weight from foot to foot, and his nervousness is visible. If you could see him, you’d hold his face and ask what was bothering him, and he’d probably tell you everything.

“That sounds perfect, Luca!”

Luca sighs in relief before offering to pick you up later. He doesn’t want to wait another day to propose; he needs you in his life, even if he does have a minuscule fear, deep down, that you will say no.

“Luca, this is too much!” you say as you climb into the passenger seat. “How are we even going to eat all of that?”

“Why do you think I brought Duke?” Luca jokes.

“Where are we going?”

“The overlook. We haven’t been in a while, and I thought, since it’s a nice day, it’s the perfect picnic spot.”

You smile and lean back in the seat. Duke lays his head in your lap, and you stroke his fur as Luca drives. When you arrive at the overlook, you take Duke’s leash as he bounds out of the car. Luca refuses to let you carry anything except the leash as he takes the oversized picnic basket out.

“I’ll trade you,” Luca says after he lays the blanket down.

Luca covers your hand as he takes Duke’s leash. He has a lot of energy to burn off before he sits (Duke and Luca both). You get comfortable on the picnic blanket and peek into the basket. There’s plenty of delicious food and two books. You chuckle at the long-lived book club joke but close the basket before Luca and Duke return.

“Street said he knew your favorite book, but I listened to your recommendation,” he says as he lowers beside you.

“Doyle,” you murmur as he hands you a book. “You do love me!”

“Open it.”

You obey, and when you see ‘I love you. Life is better with you. – Luca… and Duke’ written on a hand-painted card inside, you look up quickly.

Your surprise at the note disappears as you drop the book. Luca is on one knee, and Duke sits at attention beside him.

“Yes!” you blurt out.

Luca smiles and shakes his head but begins speaking despite your advanced answer. “I love you. Every moment with you makes me love you more, and I don’t want to go back to a life without you. Will you stay by my side now and forever? Will you marry me?”

You move onto your knees and wrap your arms over Luca’s shoulders to hug him tightly. You nod against his neck and repeat your earlier answer as his arms wrap around your waist. Duke barks excitedly and kisses your cheek.

“Hey, that’s my job, Duke,” Luca says playfully before pushing you back enough to kiss you.

When he breaks the kiss, he moves a hand from your waist to retrieve the ring box from Duke’s collar. You gasp when you see the ring; it’s beautiful and perfect, and you know that every time you see it, you will remember Luca and the love between you.

“I love you,” you whisper. “And I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I love you,” Luca replies. “But could we eat first?”

“I guess,” you say, feigning disappointment. “As long as you and Duke stay by my side.”

“Forever,” Luca promises.

“There she is!” Hondo exclaims. He hugs you before he sits for the last and most important book club meeting.

“Congratulations,” Deacon tells you.

“Let me see the ring!” Chris requests before taking your hand.

“I already threw them a party, but I guess we could do another one with their second-best friends,” Street says tiredly.

“I don’t actually know why I’m here,” you admit. “But thank you, all of you, for welcoming me into your family and all of the congratulations.”

“Of course,” 20 Squad says together.

“You deserve it for putting up with Luca and Street,” Chris adds.

“Enough,” Luca calls. “You’re here for those.”

He points to the boxes on the table: one for each person, with their names written on the top. They stand before their personalized boxes and look at one another before opening them slowly.

“Will you be… my groomsmen?” Hondo reads. “Luca, man, of course.”

He moves to hug Luca, and you walk toward Chris.

“What do you say? Please don’t feel pressured to say yes because of Luca,” you say.

She doesn’t answer as she pulls you into a tight hug.

“About time there was another girl around here,” she mumbles before agreeing to be in your bridal party.

Street pushes Chris out of the way to hug you, and you laugh as Deacon, Hondo, Tan, and Chris join him. You are part of their family, and you can’t imagine being any happier than you are now.

“Does this mean I don’t need to keep anymore secrets?” Street asks.

“No secrets to keep,” you answer. “Just make sure you save the date.”

Duke barks and Luca pushes his way past Street to hug you. He takes your hand and taps your ring before he kisses your temple. You’re happy here, and it will only get better as you plan a wedding and spend forever with Luca. 

[yourfavoritewitchbitch]

Evermore - Eddie's Ending

Series Summary: It's been 7 years since the love of your life left you behind for his career. When he decides to come back, is it too late to start anew? Will you decide to start over or realize what's been right in front of you this whole time?

Just a small note: Thank you all for sticking around with me on this small journey! Enjoy!

Masterlist found here!

18+ Only! MDNI!

Warnings: Reader is referred to as "Peach." AFAB reader. Tad bit of angst. Fluff. Eddie has a reverse prince Albert piercing. Unprotected P in V. Creampie.

Word Count: 5.6K

You were ready to finally face the past and look forward to the future. Deep down, you knew what you wanted. So, why was your heart hammering in your chest? Why were your palms so sweaty?

You turned the car around to head over to a house you knew fairly well. You’d been there a few times since Eddie had moved him out of Forest Hills.

The black sedan he’d rented sits in the drive as you pulled in behind it, shutting the ignition off and taking a deep breath. You sat there a few more moments trying to gather yourself.

Slowly moving from the driver’s seat, your feet felt like chunks of lead, carrying you up the drive. Then slowly taking the steps one by one until you are face to face with the front door.

You hesitantly lifted your fist, knocking three quick times, holding your breath in the process.

The door opened to reveal Wayne, smiling brightly when he saw you standing there.

“Well, hello darlin’.” Pulling you in for a quick hug and stepping aside to let you enter.

“Hi Wayne.”

“Don’t suppose you're here to see this old man,” chuckling lightly. “He’s in the living room, I’ll make myself scarce.” Turning to head down the hall.

“And darlin’, it’s good to see you again.” Smiling once more before disappearing into his room.

You turned the corner, to see Eddie at the end of the couch, feigning interest in whatever was playing on the TV. His profile outlined by the lamp on the table beside him, hair still pulled back in a bun from when he had put it up earlier in the morning, pieces now falling down framing his face.

“Who was it, Pop?” He said, not making an attempt to look your way when you entered.

“Uh, just some girl, but I can tell her to leave if you don’t want to see her.”

His head snapped up at hearing your voice, eyes wide with surprise as he shot up from the couch. He slowly came to stand before you as if any sudden movements might scare you away.

“Peach? What’re you doin’ here?” Looking behind you as if expecting someone else to follow.

“I was in the neighborhood. Thought I’d stop by.” You shrugged, with a faint smirk to your lips.

“In the neighborhood, huh? And you came to see little ole’ me? I’m flattered, sweetheart.” He brought his hands up over his heart. “I uh… I’m glad you came by.”

“I think we had a little unfinished business to talk about, uninterrupted this time. Hopefully.” Your smile was warm, like sunshine, filling him with hope once more.

“You want to sit? Want something to drink? Coffee, tea?” He asked.

“I could use some coffee. I’ve got to go back into the Hideout tonight. Some new band is trying out for a regular spot.”

He beckoned you to follow him to the kitchen. Watching him start the pot as you sat down, letting out the smallest sigh as you did.

“New band? Hideout still does live music?” he asked over his shoulder, busying himself gathering some mugs from the cabinet.

“Of course, I didn’t change much about the place. I guess I wanted to keep the nostalgia. The parts that I always enjoyed.”

He sat the mugs down as he took the seat across from you.

“They uh, kind of remind me of Corroded Coffin in a way. They’re young, ambitious. They want to play anywhere people will listen.”

He sipped his coffee listening, biding his time. Hoping that you were here for some other reason than small talk before letting him down gently.

“Peach, I…” “Listen, Eddie…” Both saying in tandem. You let out small laughs in the quiet space, hiding the awkwardness but you were almost certain he could hear your heart from across the table at how fast it was currently beating.

“It’s ok, you go.” Eddie spoke first.

Releasing a ragged breath, feeling his big, rounded eyes on you so intensely made you more nervous than before.

“I just came here to tell you that you were right. I couldn’t just sit there and pretend that I didn’t feel anything between us. I haven’t felt something like that, well, since…” You caught his gaze, he knowingly nodded.

“Eddie, you turned my entire world upside down and shattered my heart. I don’t think you realize just how much you hurt me. You weren’t here to see me at my lowest. I didn’t leave the apartment for a week, and once I did Steve and Robin took turns watching me because I was such a wreck.” Your eyes felt the familiar sting behind them that you had grown so accustomed to in the past few days.

“Peach, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. I know it doesn’t make up for it, but I would spend the rest of my entire life trying. I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I know you’re trying to say your piece before telling me that’s it, but please. I am begging you. Just one chance, I’ll show you today and the rest of our lives.”

His big eyes boring into yours, glossy, tears lining his lashes ready to spill at any moment. You hadn’t seen him this vulnerable in a long time. Somehow you could feel he was telling the truth.

“Eddie, we live such different lives now. How would we even make it work? I’m not leaving Hawkins. I can’t leave Maddie.” The only words he focused on were “make it work.” You hadn’t turned him down.

“First of all, I wouldn’t ask you to leave Hawkins, not now or ever.” He dared to place his hand on top of yours, where it sat on the table. You didn’t pull away but turned your palm over so you could curl your fingers into his, pulling him closer. His heart fluttered at the gesture.

“Wayne and I have been talking. I’m not going back to LA, at least not right now. I need a break and a major detox. In case you haven’t noticed, I uh…I need…” He was struggling to say it out loud. Your thumb gently rubbed the tender skin you held, encouraging him to go on.

“Well, it would do me some good to sober up. I’ve been going too hard for too long.” Looking down, as if he were ashamed but you were proud of him. This was your Eddie.

“How about we take this one day at a time? It’s not going to be easy. But it doesn’t mean that I forgive you for everything you put me through. Words only go so far; you need to show me.” You squeezed his hand.

“I can do that. I’m here and I’m not going anywhere.” Lifting your hand to his lips, placing a small kiss there. You smiled fondly hoping you’ve made the right choice. A second chance at a love you thought was lost.

“Alright, one day at a time Eddie.”

You sat there sipping coffee and fingers intertwined with his letting the gentle moment sink in. You were doing this; you were ready to try to love again.

“Walk me out? I’ve got to get ready for tonight.”

You both stood, as he placed his palm to the small of your back, guiding you back through the house.

“Hey Eddie,” turning back to him as you walked through the door. “There's this really cool band playing at the Hideout tonight. I could save you a seat. I’ll even have some virgin Pina Coladas ready to go. How about it?”

He grinned wide, “It’s a date sweetheart. I’ll be there.”

You were buzzing with electricity since you had left him, heading straight home to get a little more dressed up for a usual weeknight. You wore dark denim jeans, paired with a simple tank top and your own leather jacket with some old converse sneakers to keep your feet comfy. You kept your makeup simple but added a nice red lip. Something Eddie was always fond of.

The band you had hired brought in more of a crowd than you had anticipated, packing the place. The usuals grumbling about all these “young kids” taking their seats.

You were busy, helping out behind the bar or on the floor, wherever you were needed until your other waitress arrived. Your eyes kept glancing at the clock as it inched its way closer to 7 PM.

The band was set to perform at 7:30, and he would be arriving at any moment. You had roped off the two stools at the end of the bar earlier in the day, the ones directly in front of where your initials were carved what now seems like a lifetime ago.

You heard the commotion before you saw him.

Someone from the crowd shouted, as others joined in. “Holy shit, it’s Eddie Munson.” “It’s really him!” “No way!”

You gave him time, slipping in and around the people clambering to talk to the one and only Eddie Munson, frontman of Corroded Coffin. The members of the band you’d hired finally had their chance, speaking with him briefly, asking advice which he gladly gave but his mind was elsewhere.

His eyes drifted to where you sat, back turned to him. The noise and voices slowly subsided as you came into view.

“Excuse me, boys, I’ve got a hot date. And I’ve kept her waiting far too long.” He clapped one of them on the back as he made his way over. “Have a good set.”

You were sipping your Pina Colada, virgin just as you had told him they would be.

“Hi there, this seat taken?” He asked, coming to stand beside you.

“Well, I’m waiting for some guy but he’s late. I suppose you’ll do.” You grinned, taking another sip of the sugary concoction.

“His loss,” he chuckled out, as he sat.

Your eyes finally found him as you smiled at each other. He had showered, his curls down and around his face and shoulders. He’d left his stubble; it was a good look for him. It made him look older, hiding those boyish features but it was fitting. You were both older now. Your mind wonders how he sees you now.

He scooted over into your space, slotting his legs on either side of you. He smelled of that familiar leather and cigarettes that you had always found comfort in, something reminiscent of home. You could also faintly smell a cologne underneath, woodsy and expensive.

“So, handsome, what brings you in here tonight?” Pushing yourself a little closer still, knee pressing into his thigh as you slot yourself in between his open legs, feeling a little brave, placing your hand on his leg.

You watched his breath hitch, as if it was first date jitters and you hadn’t spent an entire lifetime together, but it was time to get to know one another again.

He didn’t have time to respond. The band cut through the sound system that you had spent a small fortune upgrading a few years ago as both of you looked toward the stage.

“Hey everyone, we’re Punk Rats. Let’s hit it!” It was new rock, in a small town. Something Eddie knew all too well. It usually wasn’t welcome, but it looks as if you made the Hideout a safe place for people like them to play and invite their fans. You were like him in that way, always a soft spot for the outcasts and lost sheep.

The music poured out. Loud and fast paced.

He leaned in close, so you could hear him. “They aren’t too bad.”

“I know, I hired them. Remember?” You laughed. He was so glad to draw that sound from you. Something he thought he’d never hear again.

He slyly watched you, watching them perform with stars in your eyes. He remembered those days you were looking at him up there. He’d never gotten to see you like this, up close.

You reached over and threaded your fingers through his, holding tight, letting the music sway you from side to side. You had missed his touch.

“Hey Eds,” you turned to him, finding his eyes already on you. “I’ll be right back, I’ve to check on something.” You slowly unlatched yourself from him, kissing his cheek.

He nodded, eyes trailing after you, a little sway to your hips as you went weaving through the small crowd. He thought to himself at this moment how lucky he was to be here, and he wasn’t about to let you slip through his fingers. What an absolute fool he was. Young, ambitious but at what cost?

The minutes ticked by, and you hadn’t returned. He checked his watch, looking around nervously until the bartender caught his attention.

“Hey man,” Randy cut through the chatter, “she told me to give you this,” handing him a folded paper.

For a moment his heart sank. You’d changed your mind and didn’t want to tell him. He was getting his payback, and he didn't blame you.

A look of confusion passed his features before he took it from him hesitantly, fingers with a little tremble; from detoxing or nerves he didn’t quite know.

Hey Handsome,

Meet me upstairs. The door is unlocked.

XoXo, Peach

Breathing a sigh of relief, he got up. Making his way across the bar to the front door, pushing his way out into the cool Indiana summer night air.

He looked up at the apartment window. It was dark, anticipation stirring within him as he started to climb the stairs taking two at a time but trying to maintain his cool.

He stopped, should he knock? No that's stupid, you said the door was unlocked.

He held his breath, and slowly turned the knob, pushing as the door slowly creaked open. The only light seeping in from the window.

“Peach?” He called out. Closing the door behind him, letting his eyes adjust slowly to the darkness that surrounded him.

He saw you moments later, silhouette outlined by the same window.

“Every time I come up here, I think about that night. Wondering what I could have done differently.” You gaze steady on the outside world, as he comes up behind you.

He’s well aware that he had the luxury to run away, forget it all. You had to stay, see everything that reminded you of him here in Hawkins.

He placed his arms around your waist, pulling you back into his chest. He radiated warmth but your body erupted in goosebumps from the sudden closeness.

“Is this, okay?” Breath fanning across your cheek, as he spoke.

“It’s more than okay,” wrapping your arms around his.

He nuzzled his face into your neck, breathing you in. You always smelled sweet. Something that always made him think of vanilla and summer days.

He wanted to cherish the moment, the time he had with you as he raised his head up, lips kissing tenderly at your temple.

“God, I missed you so much. And I’m sorry I’m a few years late. An apology that shouldn't even have to be made. I was stupid. Selfish.” He mumbled into your hair.

“Eddie, how about we make some new memories? Replace the ones that I need to forget.” You moved out of his grip so you could face him, as your hands snaked around his waist, meeting the warmth you missed so much laying your head to his chest.

“Yeah, Sweetheart. We can do that.”

You pulled your head away from where it rested long enough to look him over. His gaze immediately bringing you a comfort you so desperately craved from your time apart. His cheeks flushed, tinted the lightest shade of pink. Eyes drifting to his lips. His tongue darted out slightly, wetting them.

“You can make me forget? Remind me of all the good times?” He nodded.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

You tilted your chin upward, as he crashed his lips into yours. His hand meeting the back of your head, pulling you in, his other resting on your hip.

The moment your lips met, it was desperate and needy. Your hands find purchase on the front of his shirt as you move against each other.

His tongue grazed your bottom lip, begging for entry, silently granting permission as you gently parted them.

All at once, he’s everywhere but it isn’t enough. Hands roaming, feeling any of the exposed skin he could get to. You fervently wish in this moment you could crawl under his skin, desperate to be as close as possible.

You feel a familiar ache between your legs, with an intensity that has you reeling. He pulls you closer, deepening the kiss, pressing in as you feel the evidence of his own growing need against your hip, straining against his denim.

Pulling away slightly, he sucks your lower lip gently before releasing it with a gentle pop. You’re both out of breath, panting. Leaning his forehead against yours, the small breaths being shared in the space between you the only sounds in the room.

“Eds, I need you,” you finally manage to speak.

“I need you too, Peach. Can I please, have you?”

You brought your hands up to gently cup his face. “I’ve waited for what seems like an eternity to have you back in my arms. Please.”

“Wait, is there even a bed up here?” As if he suddenly remembered where you were, and no furniture in the immediate area that he could see.

You giggle and nod, “Yes, Eds. Though I know that hasn’t stopped you before.”

“I had to ask sweetheart,” he leans in close, dropping his voice to that husky tone that has your thighs clenching, “I’d like to fuck you properly tonight.”

You yelp as his hand comes into contact with your ass with a loud smack.

“Eddie!” You chastise him, with a grin.

“Come on, baby,” he gently tapped your ass then, giving you the go ahead.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his narrow waist. Eddie was always strong; years of lugging heavy music equipment had its perks.

His large palms cup your cheeks bringing you even closer, grinding down so you could press your core to his ever-growing bulge making you both moan out with want. He wastes no time, managing to kiss you again and marching you both straight to the bedroom.

He only breaks the kiss a moment to look around once he’d managed to get you both through the doorway in one piece. Though the bed has changed it feels the same. It’s in the same position it was always in. Fitting, he thinks.

He gently moves to the bed, sitting you down with a small bounce as you giggle. Helping you quickly shed your jacket, tossing it haphazardly across the floor as he does the same with his.

He takes your sneaker clad foot and helps ease your shoe off and then switches to do the same with the other. You watched him, scooting yourself up into the pillows. He slipped his own shoes off and made his way back over to you.

Crawling over, he nudged your thighs so he could slot himself between them. His throbbing length meeting your core once again through the layers of still too much fabric separating you from one another.

You arched and moved into him when the rough denim meets your own, but finding enough friction where you craved it the most. You let out a breathy moan, sounding more like a sigh.

It was like music to his ears.

“God, I’ve missed those sounds.” Tenderly moving the hair from your face before caging you in.

His lips once again meeting yours, not as much urgency in the way they moved against yours, but just as much passion taking his time savoring the taste.

He pulled away, your lips chasing his, it only had you pleading once more, “Please Eddie, I need you.”

“I know baby, but I want to take my time. I’ve missed you so much.” He looked directly into your eyes, tears brimming at your lash line, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Needy baby, let me take care of you.”

He helped you remove your top, kissing down your jaw, then the column of your neck, making his way lower. Tender kisses all the way down your chest, as if reacquainting himself with each part of you. Thumbs brushing over the thin fabric covering your breast, earning him another moan. He moved to unclasp it, freeing you from the confines.

Then moving his lips lightly over each nipple, breath fanning, teasing you. Your head was already getting dizzy, thrown back with pleasure before his tongue licks hot, over your already pert nub while his palm engulfed the other. Switching the motions of his tongue before fully sucking and then lightly biting, making your core throb with need.

“Oh, Eddie,” an already breathless utterance falling from your lips.

Once he felt your breasts had enough attention, his lips began kissing down your stomach, before finally pulling away, easily popping the button of your jeans, bringing his face back down nipping at the top of your panties.

Once again, making you comfortable and giving you an out he asked, “This alright, sweetheart?”

You met his gaze, your own eyes reflecting the same lust he felt.

“Please, Eds.”

He helped you shimmy out of your jeans and panties letting them join the growing pile on the floor.

You spread your thighs for him once again, as his fingers began to trace patterns on your skin, getting closer to where you needed him the most. He moved inward, watching your pussy on full display for him.

“Baby, you're already dripping, and I haven’t even touched you.” He hummed.

He moved his finger to trace your slit. Your hips canting up to meet his touch, desperate for more.

Gently, he parts your lips, brushing his thumb over your clit and sees the way your aching hole clenches around nothing as it pulls another delicious moan from you making it hard for him not to take his throbbing cock out and pound you into the mattress right then and there.

“Fuck Peach, such a need girly. My needy girl.” He says as he lowers himself, head between your thighs, mouth now mere inches from your sopping cunt; breath fanning over your hot flesh as he admires the meal he’s about to devour.

He doesn’t give you time to respond, letting his hot tongue meet your core, painting a stripe from your aching hole, meeting your clit with just the pressure you needed.

“Ahhh, fuck.” You moaned out, gripping the sheets to ground you.

He began swirling his tongue over your bundle of nerves, like an exposed live wire, the coil already threatening to snap.

“God, yes Eddie. Please don’t stop!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, baby.” He speaks into your pussy, drawing your clit between his lips sucking harshly.

His finger draws lazy circles around your entrance, you couldn’t focus on one sensation alone. Everything felt so good.

That same finger began to prod your entrance, sliding in easily, a welcome relief.

He quickly adds another, curling them upward, not missing the way you’re already fluttering around him as he reaches that sweet spongy spot that has you begging for more.

He lifts his eyes, but never removes his mouth from you, as you begin to writhe beneath him, gripping the sheets as you feel the coil within you winding tighter.

His fingers brushing that spot over and over, as he alternated his attention from sucking and lightly nipping at your clit, it finally sent you over the edge. With a cry of his name the coil snaps, sending you into orbit. With stars behind your eyes bursting, all you seem to hear is the blood pumping in your ears and the distant thump, thump, thump of the music from the Hideout below.

He works you through it, drawing it out as long as he could before reluctantly pulling his mouth away and letting his fingers retreat, easing himself up.

He can’t help but admire the way you look so blissed out. Lips plump and kiss bitten; cheeks flushed. You lazily open your eyes to see him looking down at you.

“Come here,” you manage, reaching for him, grabbing a fistful of his shirt, bringing him back to your awaiting lips, tasting yourself on his tongue. It has you moaning again, threading your fingers through his hair, trying to pull him closer.

He finally pulls away, breathless, searching your eyes.

“Peach, baby, I’ve got to get my clothes off. If I don’t get inside you, I’m going to combust.” You laugh out, but ease up on your grip, letting him ease aside.

“Uh, that reminds me,” he starts as he sits up, “You got any condoms?”

“I’m on the pill Eddie, I want all of you inside of me.” Biting your lower lips watching his jaw drop.

“You are perfect.” He pecks your lips and moves off the bed.

His shirt goes first, you study his body, more tattoos on his alabaster skin than you were accustomed to. Across his chest and side. You made a mental note to study them later, as the clinking of his belt made you trail lower as he unzipped his pants, watching as he lowered the fabric from his waist, sliding them and his boxers down his legs as they pool at his feet allowing his cock to spring free, just as pretty as you remembered. Thick and long, your eyes follow it upward until something shiny catches your eye at his ruddy tip.

“Eds, what’s that?” You ask, continuing to stare almost mesmerized.

He follows your gaze, as if he’d forgotten himself. There at the head of his cock, a steel piercing is visible.

“Oh yeah. That. Drunken decision but it's hot right?” He states, with a sly grin.

You nod, as he brings his hand to his shaft, taking the pearly bead from his slit, smearing it back down. Teasing himself and you in the process, as he then moves to crawl back between your thighs.

He moves close, chest pressed into yours, as his cock nudges through your slick folds, wrapping your legs around his waist. He nuzzles into your neck as lips ghost over the shell of your ear as he speaks, “And baby, I know you’re going to love how it feels.”

Canting his hips at the last word, his head catching your clit just right, pulling a breathy moan from you.

“Yeah, that's it Peach. Let me hear those beautiful sounds. My beautiful girl.”

He moves his hand to your thigh, gently pushing. You take the hint, spreading yourself wider to him as he holds himself up by your head and his other hand travels between you.

He takes his now aching cock, teasing now long forgotten as he brings his head to your entrance. He slightly nudges inside but looks up to you for a response. Your glazed over expression is almost all he needs, but he waits. You nod, as he begins to push in slowly.

“Fuuuuuck,” he draws out the word.

Your own head now thrown back, chest heaving. Each delicious inch stretches you out.

Finally, bottoming out, he holds for a moment, kissing the side of your mouth as you moaned out once more. The high of him fully seated within you taking over filling you to the brim.

He pistons his hips, pulling almost all of the way out and thrusting back in harder than he intended. He had every intention of taking it slow, relishing the feeling as long as possible.

The slow outward drag of his cock sent a shiver down your spine and ignited a new flame deep within. That steel ring was brushing against you each and every time he thrust in and out relentlessly. It was a new experience, something you had never felt before and it had your mind and body buzzing.

“God, Eddie, you feel so good.”

Your words ignited him, it was almost too much for him to hold back, he thrust a little too harshly as his head kissed your cervix.

“Ohhhh, fuck. Eddie. Please, you can move faster.”

“Yeah, that what my girl needs, huh? Need my cock to ruin you, huh?”

He moves, pulling your thigh higher up on his waist, suddenly punching the air from your lungs with each thrust. You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak.

It was just Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

It felt like a lifetime of waiting and to have him back in your arms felt like a dream.

You reached for him, your nails digging crescents into his back. His pace didn’t let up, he felt like he was everywhere at once, invading all of your senses. Each thrust of his hips had his cock kissing your cervix, every withdrawal had him brushing that place within your walls your own fingers could never reach. Your second orgasm was building with each delicious drag.

“I’m… mmmm… Fuck,” you couldn’t get it out, but he heard your loud and clear. In one motion, he sat up, pulling your hips up with him. The new angle made it feel like he was impossibly deeper. He moved his thumb to toy with your clit, already sensitive from the first orgasm he worked you through.

“Come on baby, give me one more.” He showered you with praise, “I need to feel her. I need you to cum all over my cock. You can do that for me, can’t you baby?”

“Eddie, I…” A new sensation started to build, it had you feeling dizzy. Your orgasm was impending, but this felt different. Intense, building with each rock of his hips and graze of your clit.

“What baby?” He hummed, but it was too late you came harder than you ever have, crying out his name as it washed over you. Your pussy clamped down on him, making it almost impossible for him to keep pumping. A gush of fluid came down around you both, wetting everything in the process.

“Holy shit,” he huffed out, ceasing his movements. “You just squirted all over me. Goddamn, that was so fuckin’ hot. When did you start doing that?”

He draped his body over yours, thrusting slowly, giving your body a reprieve.

“I… I’ve never done that before.” You breathed out, chest still heaving from the exertion.

“I told you that you'd love it.” He chuckled, still balls deep inside you. Though your walls were still sensitive, you used your muscles and pulsed down around him, effectively cutting off his laugh, eliciting his own moan instead.

“Fuck Peach, you dirty girl. You could have just said you were ready,” he huffed, getting back to the task at hand as he rolls his hips back into yours.

“Where’s the… mmmmm… where's the fun in that?”

His pace picked back up; you were able to watch his lean muscles as they worked in time to reach his own release. A sheen of sweat across his forehead, eyes closed as his head was thrown back.

His thrusts became a little sloppy, so you knew he was getting close.

He groaned at your words. “Perfect, you’re fuckin’ perfect.”

A few more thrusts and he was following you.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” he mumbled as he spilled inside of you, your tight cunt milking him for everything he was worth.

He finally stilled and collapsed onto you, chests heaving, both trying to come down from your highs.

He kissed your forehead, withdrawing his softening cock and lying next to you, pulling you over until your back was to his chest and nuzzling into your hair.

You didn’t speak, nothing more needed to be said in the moment. You listened to him breathing until it turned into soft snores. You relaxed into him, letting sleep slowly take you over.

You opened your eyes slowly, scanning the room, reaching over expecting to feel a warm body next to yours.

Instead, you were met with nothing but a cold space. You sat up clutching the comforter close to your chest as your heart rate ticked up.

“Eddie?” you groaned. Waiting a few beats, only met with silence.

Oh God. You grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around yourself, noticing his clothes were gone from the floor.

You raced out into the hall, running into the kitchen. Too crazed to notice the fresh pot of coffee that was brewed or the brown paper sack sitting on the counter with

“Benny's” printed across it.

Turning the corner, you barreled right into his chest.

Woah, baby, where you going in such a hurry?” He laughed but his smile dropped when he saw the worried look on your face, immediately pulling you into his embrace.

“I'm sorry baby,” kissing the top of your head. Realizing in your state what you must have thought. “You looked so peaceful. I didn't want to wake you just yet, so I went out for breakfast to surprise you.”

You were clinging to him. Face buried in his chest, letting yourself relax into his embrace, as he rubbed soothing circles across your back.

"It's ok… I just thought… you weren't there and…” Coming out a little muffled.

“Shhhh, sweetheart. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”

Thinking back to all those years ago, this is what you had wished for. What you needed.

You were both given a second chance at love. It was time to let go of the past and look forward to the future together.

He had you back and he’d do everything to keep you.

In the soft morning light, you had coffee and breakfast in the apartment you once shared, ready to take this one day at a time.

[rendomski]

Crosshair and Hunter are very good bros

They are, and I don't even need to die on this hill, season 3 backs me up solidly.

But back in season 1, one can only imagine Crosshair's pain when he comes back to his senses. I support the most popular opinion that Crosshair's chip was removed after his injury on Bracca. So, he wakes up and realises that he has been under brutal mind control since the order was issued. He was forced to do atrocious things for the Empire and, most painful for him, to gun for his brothers. And he also realises that his brothers, knowing that he was not in control of his actions, abandoned him and didn't try to get him back or even contact him. Betrayed him and almost killed during their encounter on Bracca. A whole separate essay can be written speculating why Crosshair chose to throw in his lot with the Empire after he got his chip out. But even after choosing the Empire, he wants to get his brothers back, convincing himself that this is the best option for them all. He's hurt and angry, but he wants to forgive them and take care of them, as he sees it. Because Crosshair is a good bro.

***

However, if we go back to his brothers and to Hunter first and foremost, for during this period the squad follows his lead unconditionally, paradoxically, Hunter is a very good bro, too.

Gif credits @werentloyaltome

First of all, many fans tend to assume that Hunter understands the impact of chips as fully as they do. And I don’t see how Hunter could have had this understanding until Bracca.

He was told several times that Crosshair's actions were influenced by the chip, true. And with hindsight, the influence was undeniable. Crosshair's aggression, his insistence on following the orders. Oh, boy, it is painful to watch how Crosshair himself grimaces every time his brothers ask him, “Since when?”; he gets so confused. But, grudgingly though, he obeyed Hunter, he fought alongside his brothers, he trusted them as always—the way he doesn't flinch when, in the midst of their argument, Hunter pulls out his blaster and shoots down the spy probe.

So, Crosshair was very lucid and making his choices the last time Hunter saw him—before Crosshair was escorted away from the cell (need I remind Hunter's reaction then?). And then Crosshair comes back, heading a squad of stormtroopers, trying to order his brothers around, shooting Wrecker, and fully intent to go after everyone else. While I feel very sorry for Crosshair, from Hunter's point of view, it must have looked like a betrayal, plain and simple.

And here Hunter presents himself as a very good and loving bro. I can't imagine myself not being furious at my brother or at any person who used to be close to me but who would act towards me and my family like Crosshair did. And Hunter, while obviously hurt and avoiding talking about Crosshair, still voices his emotions as ‘angry at myself’, first and foremost. Still listens to all the arguments and debates about the chips. True, Hunter cuts them short, but he is responsible for setting their priorities. Basic survival first, risky future plans later.

Here's, actually, the second argument why I'm more or less sure Hunter does not understand the full extent of chips’ influence until Wrecker's chip activates. Taking into account his cautious nature, he and Echo, too, would be beside themselves with alarm if Hunter did understand the danger. And Hunter acts as if he totally relies on Tech’s seemingly casual remark, like, yeah, we know about the chips, but they don't work in us, nothing to worry about.

So, to sum up: Hunter has no idea that Crosshair’s chip was modified to strip him of the remains of his free will and that Crosshair wasn't in control of his actions.

Tech and Omega, not Hunter, are the only two persons in the Batch who know more or less about the chips, their function and the potential force of influence. Hunter doesn't take Omega's words for face value yet. As for Tech, I have two versions of why he doesn’t push the subject of the chips more insistently. One possibility is that Tech thinks it is obvious. Another—and which I like better—is that he, with all his calm logic, doesn't see the point in freaking Hunter out while they can do nothing about it anyway. He just makes constructing the scanner his top priority. It fits well with the canon(?) fact that Tech is the second oldest in the Batch; he just silently (well, as silently as he manages) takes on his share of responsibilities.

Following this line of reasoning, the Hunter and the rest of the Batch run into Crosshair mere hours after all of them finally understand the full, overwhelming nature of mind control induced by the chip. But Crosshair afterwards assumes Hunter knew it all along but still didn't come back for him. Oh, the elegant confusion, worthy of a classic tragedy! The writing in season 1 was so good!

***

I see passionate Crosshair's fans blaming Hunter even for leaving Crosshair to die on Bracca. Somehow forgetting that Hunter left Bracca injured, barely conscious, and having no idea how their counteraction against Crosshair's attempt to kill them backfired (literally) on Crosshair himself.

The only occasion when I’m really mad at Hunter is their encounter on Ryloth. Hunter has not even considered retrieving Crosshair here as an option, seeing him only as a danger. Here, Hunter can't even be justified by his trademark cautiousness, since soon after he agrees to go along with helping Hera, choosing to help a stranger instead of giving a chance to his brother.

I get the counterarguments, Crosshair is not an easy target to be simply retrieved. Still, they all have received the same training and could give it some thought at least. I can think of the arguments explaining Hunter's choice, I know similar situations when you misplace your responsibilities and hurt people close to you. Still, understanding does not take the blame off Hunter's poor, tired head. And when Hunter meets Crosshair next time, it’s a little too late for Crosshair just to accept his offer to come back.

Both pay their price in the end: Crosshair going through his trials and tribulations, and Hunter losing their brother in an attempt to get their family reunited.

Again, I see fans on both sides arguing that their conflict was resolved too easily, with not enough tears, regrets, and apologies. All things considered, yes, they may have ended up estranged and bitter in the end. But I was so ecstatic to see them sort things out and reconcile without inflated emotional drama.

Because Crosshair and Hunter are simply very good bros.

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Over Mountains Cold

Kili Durin x Reader

Words: 4931

Summary: On a quest for your family, you and your traveling companion get caught in a winter storm in the Grey Mountains. Your true feelings for your best friend come to light when you struggle to make it through the chilling night. 

Notes: The heater in my room is broken and the image of cuddling with Kili to get warm is just really nice to me, okay? I will use Aidan Turner to dissociate before I contact ever maintenance. (also, why can’t I just write fluff? Why does there have to be the angsty backstory of losing siblings? The world may never know)

Warnings: Kind of a chaotic plot. An ungodly amount of sexual tension. I don’t make the rules. 

-

Fili gave a final wave as he disappeared over the ridge, taking the ponies with him. His brother tried to calm the pit in his stomach. Not only was Fili off to retrieve more supplies alone, but the cold was setting in. If he didn’t make it to the next village by the time the snow started, he would get stuck out here. 

Just like you were. 

“We should go,” You sighed. “We’ll want to set up camp before it gets dark and I want to search the foothills to the east before the sun goes down.”

Kili looked up at the sky. “It’s going to be a cold night.” Already, his breath came out in puffs from his lips. “Maybe we should stay here until morning. It’s lower, so it’ll be warmer and the snow hasn’t reached us yet.” 

You stiffened and turned determined eyes towards him. “I won’t waste any time. If there’s a chance of finding my sisters out here, I’m taking it.” 

You waited for him to argue or tell you how foolish you were. Winter was on the horizon and these mountains would be impassable in the coming weeks. But your friend merely gave you a small smile and put a hand on your shoulder. 

“Then lead the way.” 

You wanted to kiss him. Well, you often wanted to kiss him, but in that moment, with his eyes full of trust and belief in you, no words could express your gratitude. But, coward that you were, you settled for a pat on the arm and an awkward nod. 

“Right. Follow me.” You hurried away from him before you could do something stupid. 

You’d known the dwarven princes for most of your life. Having grown up near the Blue Mountains, you spent a lot of time with Durin’s folk, listening to their stories, celebrating their festivals, and causing a little chaos with your two closest friends. You couldn’t count the times Kili and Fili had gotten you into some kind of trouble, but surely they would say the same thing about you. 

The younger prince walked beside you, telling you legends of ridiculous creatures living in these hills, trying to make you smile. It worked, of course. Between his grin and a bit of theatricality, he never failed to lighten your moods. 

Kili was your best friend. He was there for every prank, every adventure, and every heartbreak. When your village was attacked by raiders three years ago, he spent weeks tending to your injuries and trying to hunt down the people who’d hurt you. 

That’s when they were taken. Your two older sisters, Maryina and Baeriel. Sometime during the battle, those foul men came to your home and stole them away. You were nearly killed trying to defend them. Everyone told you they were dead. Even your parents didn’t have the heart to keep looking after so long, but you wouldn’t give up. You knew they were alive. Kili was the only one who believed you.

“Do you remember what you told me?” You asked suddenly. 

Kili turned his head, hazel-brown eyes bright in the afternoon sun. His brows furrowed with curiosity. 

You elaborated. “When I said I was going to find them. I said I’d search the whole of Middle Earth if I had to. What did you say?” 

Kili beamed. “I said ‘Well, you’re not doing it without me,’” he remembered. “‘You’d get lost.’” 

“Exactly,” you laughed. “And, I do believe that you lead us down more a stray path than I, dear friend.” 

“But we always found our way in the end, didn’t we?” Kili grinned. 

“That we did.” 

The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence with something heavier hanging between you. 

Grass swayed with dying breaths, green turned to dry white. Ahead, towering peaks capped with snow loomed like a massive, foreboding gate. You watched them with growing unrest. Kili’s shoulder brushed against yours as you walked as if just to remind you he was there. 

The afternoon stretched and yawned. The sun began to hover. With every passing hour, the more the light sank, so did your hopes. Your search in the foothills yielded nothing. Not even the remnants of a possible settlement. 

“They aren’t here,” you said. You ran a hand down your tired face, eyes scanning the vast landscape, the mountains at your back. You turned to Kili. “What if…”

You’d come here on a rumor that the raiders who took your sisters had a base in the Grey Mountains. But that’s all you had to go off of- rumors. 

“It’s the first day.” He gave you a reassuring smile. “We’ll keep looking.” Kili scanned the dense woods at the base of the mountains, hoping for some signal of smoke or any other sign of life. There was nothing. But he wasn’t going to give up hope and he certainly wasn’t going to let you. “Come, let’s set up somewhere to sleep. You must be exhausted.”

“I’m fine,” you grumbled. “But if you’re saying you need to rest, then I suppose we can pitch the tent.” 

He rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Last one to the trees gathers firewood,” he challenged. The mischievous dwarf took off before you had the chance to process what he said. 

“Hey!” You called after him and ran as fast as your legs could carry. 

-

Usually, the three of you always camped out under the stars, but knowing how cold it would be, you brought a tent to provide a little shelter. But laying there, so close to him, the fabric barrier between you and the night sky seemed suffocating. 

It wasn’t the closest you’d ever been, of course. There had even been some nights where you found yourself asleep on his shoulder after a long day or he would doze off with his head in your lap. There was just something about this- something about the two of you enclosed together, alone- that felt different. 

You laid completely still, screwing your eyes shut, but your mind refused to rest. The form beside you shifted back and forth, twisting and turning. Kili grunted in frustration and turned onto his back. 

“Y/N?” He whispered. “Are you awake?”

“Unfortunately.” 

He blew out a breath. “We should sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. We’ll have to find some food in case Fili gets holed up somewhere.” 

You hummed and nodded. 

Both of you stared up at the slanted ceiling of the tent, not moving and not speaking. The tension alone chilled you to the bone, making you shudder. 

“Are you cold?” Kili asked. 

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure, because I have an extra fur-”

“Kili, go to sleep.” You huffed, shifting to your side away from him so he couldn’t see the painful want in your eyes. 

Kili was more than just your best friend to you. He was your first love, the only person you’d ever loved, really. You’d had suitors in the past ask for your hand, but you declined them all. Your heart was no longer yours to give away. But you could never bring yourself to tell him. He was a prince, after all, and what were you? A nobody. 

You blinked away tears and curled up as close to the tent’s wall as possible. 

So close together and yet you couldn't feel more distant. 

-

The next day yielded even less results. The further you got into the mountains, the less hope you had that you were going in the right direction. The Eastern Pass took you higher in elevation and further away from Fili with the supplies. 

“Wait.” Kili stopped suddenly, putting a hand out in front of you. “Listen.”

You halted, the frostbitten ground shifting beneath your boots. At first, the slight breeze was all you could detect, but as the forest stilled, the subtle yet clear sound of hooves carried on the wind. 

And they were getting closer. 

“Get down.” You grabbed the collar of his coat and pulled. The two of you tumbled into a bush, losing your balance in your haste. Kili hit the ground. You fell onto his chest, knocking the breath out of both of you. 

Kili grimaced. 

“Sorry,” you whispered. Your faces turned a similar shade of pink, both trying to hide it from the other.

The familiar thudding against the forest floor increased in speed and volume. From your position, you could just see through the foliage that kept you hidden.  Kili craned his neck, blindly trying to get a glance. 

“Can you see them?” He asked. 

“Shh.” 

You kept your head low as you stared out. Watching. Waiting. As the horses neared, you decided there couldn’t be more than three. 

“We could take them,” you whispered, looking down. But the sight of Kili lying beneath you, hazel-brown eyes staring up into yours with his hair a mess below him was too much. It sent a burning, twisting feeling through your stomach. You looked back up at the road. “There aren’t many. We could fight and force them to tell us where they took my sisters.”

“Are you mad?” Kili hissed, shifting underneath you. His hips rocked up into yours by accident. He sucked in a breath. “It could be innocent travelers going through the mountains. Or worse, there could be a dozen fighters and we’d be dead in seconds.”

“Since when are you the cautious one?” You scoffed, ignoring his movements and prepping yourself to pounce. 

Kili locked his arms around your middle and rolled. He had you on your back before you could stop him, pinning you to the forest floor with his hands on either side of your head. 

“Since I’m trying to keep you from getting yourself killed,” he growled. 

Relieved that your hips were no longer pressed against his, Kili had put himself in another predicament hovering over your body, his lips mere inches from yours. 

It shamed him to think of how many times he’d imagined you like this.

He waited until the riders were past, counting three, just as you said, but they seemed only to be a father and his two children, both under the age of 16. Kili doubted that these were the raiders who had destroyed your home. One of them mentioned something about getting over the pass before the storm, which made him uneasy. 

Despite the heat of your bodies, the air was indeed growing colder. Clouds were gathering and a crisp, cool scent hung in the air. 

Kili stood and held out a hand to help you up. 

You didn’t take it. 

“We need to keep moving.” 

He swallowed. “We should head back to lower grounds. If we get caught in the pass, who knows how we’ll get out.” 

You didn’t look at him. Instead, you continued up the path. “I wasn’t asking.”

-

Kili walked behind you, neither saying a word. He saw the tension in your back shifting like you were already in battle. He only wished he could relieve at least some of the weight that bore down on your shoulders. Witnessing you in such pain hurt him more than he knew how to express. That, unfortunately, wasn’t the only thing he struggled to put into words. 

It had taken Kili long enough to finally admit his feelings for you to himself, but it was taking even longer for him to admit them to you. Fear wasn’t something that usually stopped him- he’d faced trolls and orc packs a dozen times over- but the idea of jeopardizing his friendship with you frightened him to no end. 

Still, lying there, pressed against you, had drummed all of those feelings up to the front of his mind. They distracted him from the real issue at hand and he tried to remind himself that you need him focused. You needed a warrior, not a love-sick errand boy. 

“If we keep at this pace, we can make it through the pass by morning,” you said grimly. 

Kili exhaled, his voice deep with concern. “Y/N, you need to rest.” 

“I need to find my sisters.” 

You kept walking. 

Kili kept his arguments to himself. Starting a fight now would only make you angrier and he didn’t want to risk you going off alone. 

He let out a low sigh. Being the responsible one was exhausting. 

Kili watched the sun with a concerned eye and discomfort growing in his stomach. His breath appeared in a cloud from his lips. But worse, flecks of white sent panic up his spine. The snow speckled the branches of the pines around them and added to the already thick blanket of frost that coated the ground. The further up, the deeper the snow banks. 

“These flurries won’t be flurries for long,” he warned. 

“We’ll make it.” 

You refused to turn back to look at him. If you did, you knew that one look at his face would make you forget your persistence. You would turn around and head back down the mountain and have to start all over again in the morning. So you kept your eyes ahead, despite the growing shiver down your spine. 

Besides, it was only a little snow. You and the brothers had faced worse on numerous occasions. 

Kili quickened his pace to take his place beside you again. 

“This way,” he said. “I’ve heard a shortcut through this pass.”

You raised a brow. “You’ve heard of one?”

“We’re here based on a rumor, aren’t we?” He retorted. 

You shrugged as if to say ‘fair enough.’ 

Kili took the lead as the air thickened with white flakes. The shortcut, while it existed as far as he knew, was not the true purpose of his change in direction. He’d read journals telling tales of adventures through these mountains and he remembered a checkpoint for many. A cave where they could take shelter from winter storms. He only hoped it was real. 

You began to regret your stubbornness as the cold seeped through your coat, the snow falling thicker and thicker, decreasing your visibility until you could see but a mere few feet in front of you. 

In a blink, the blizzard set in. 

You trudged on. Eyes blinded by white, you walk straight into the mass in front of you. Your companion’s warmth drew you in and you couldn’t help but press yourself against his back. His arm wrapped around, searching for yours. 

“Take my hand!” Kili called back to you. 

You did so without hesitation, wincing at the chilled state of his skin. 

“We’re nearly there!” He shouted over the wind. 

“That’s impossible! We haven’t even made it through the pass!”

“You’ll see.” 

Trust was the only thing you had left, your senses overtaken by the storm. And then suddenly, it stopped. Kili pulled you forward and the choking white curtained the opening of the cave behind you. Wind howled, but no longer deafened. 

“You knew this was here?” You gasped through chattering teeth. 

Kili gulped. “I hoped.” 

“You hoped?” 

“You kept going!” He held out his hands, fingers stretched and shaking with his words. “I didn’t know what else to do!” 

“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter.” You ran a hand down your face, wincing at the freezing surface of your own skin, as well as the exhaustion overtaking your features. You paced back toward the blinding white outside. “We’ll stay here until the storm blows over and then we’ll keep going.” 

Standing at the opening of the cave, the wind still chilled you to the bone. Still, you watched, as if your sisters would magically appear and welcome you into their warm arms. 

As the image passed through your mind, you were gently pulled away from the wind by a hand as cold as yours, and yet it sparked the warmth that you needed. Kili placed a hand on your cheek, turning your face to his. 

“You’re exhausted,” he said. “We cannot afford to be careless. Not out here. We’ll go out again in the morning. You need to rest.” Before you could argue, he added, “We both do.” 

With the fog of determination outweighed by fatigue and frost, you sighed in defeat, hanging your head. 

“Alright,” you conceded. 

Kili put a finger under your chin and lifted your eyes. He gave you a small smile to which you couldn’t help but reciprocate. 

“Come on. We should set up the tent. It might not be much, but it can’t hurt.” 

Your chattering teeth gave no argument. There was no wood for a fire, the smoke would fill the small space anyway, so the thin cloth was your only added defense against the cold. 

Once inside, you both felt the same pull towards each other, your bodies craving the heat of another. But you stayed on the far side, as far as you could get, mind clouded by icy, frozen fear. Kili didn’t say anything, trying to ignore the ache in his chest as he tried to sleep. 

Your eyes couldn’t have been shut for more than a moment when you heard them. 

“Y/N!” 

“Y/N! Where are you?” 

You blinked to clear the tiredness from your eyes and listened. 

“It can’t be,” you whispered. 

“Y/N! Y/N!” 

Maryina and Baeriel. 

You listened again. 

“We’re here! Help us!”

Your sisters. They were out there. They were trapped in the storm. They needed you. 

You sat up, tossing aside the coat you’d been using for a blanket and ignored the bitter air seeping through your tunic. You didn’t feel it. You didn’t see your companion sleeping across from you. You didn’t hear the wind as you stepped out of the tent. You only heard your sisters’ cries…

And stepped out into the blizzard. 

-

Kili twisted and turned. As hard as he tried, sleep never stayed. He dozed off only to drift back, trying not to shiver. 

“I can’t sleep again,” he sighed. Kili flipped onto his other side. Rubbing his tired eyes, he opened them. The bundle of furs beside him took an odd shape. 

Empty. 

“Y/N?” 

He sat up and reached across the tent, feeling nothing but frigid air. Kili lifted his head, panic banishing any exhaustion left in his limbs. 

The untied opening of the tent flapped in the wind. 

“Y/N!” He called out. 

The storm screamed in response. 

He scrambled out of his bedroll and sprinted into the night. Fat, white flakes stuck to his face and eyelashes no matter how much he blinked them away. 

“Y/N!” He shouted again. 

Kili walked, trying to keep the cave in sight. The blizzard raged around him, concealing even the silhouette of the trees. He cried out your name again and again. With every passing second of silence, his chest grew tighter. 

Why would you have gone off alone? 

What if something had taken you?

There was no way for Fili to reach the cave until the storm settled, which meant he was completely and utterly alone. 

“Y/N!” 

It felt like hours before the wind let up and even then, snow continued to fall and the air turned even colder, creeping down Kili’s neck like a thousand icy-legged spiders. 

There, in the distance, he could just make out a shape, wandering and covered in a thick, frozen blanket. 

Kili ran as fast as his aching legs would allow, his boots sliding on the ice-coated ground. No matter how loud he shouted, it was as if you couldn’t hear him. You trudged on, the snow almost reaching your knees. You didn’t even have your coat. If he didn’t get you out of this cold, you would surely be lost to the white nothingness that surrounded you. 

“Y/N, what are you-” Kili moved to grab your arm and found that your eyes were closed. Ice stuck to your face where tears had fallen and your blue lips muttered the same two things over and over again.

“Maryina…. Baeriel….” 

Kili’s heart shattered like an icicle falling to the earth. 

“Y/N, love, wake up,” he pleaded, gently taking hold of your shoulders. He had to stop himself from recoiling. Even through your tunic, you were like a statue, freezing to the touch. “We need to get back to the cave. I need to get you to a fire. I need to get you warm.” 

Already, you looked like a walking corpse. 

But your eyes were starting to open.

“K-Kili?” You muttered through chattering teeth. “What’s going on? I’m so…” You stepped forward, falling against him. “I’m so cold.” 

Kili didn’t hesitate. He scooped you up into his arms, holding you tight against his chest. He followed his own footprints as they were slowly being covered again by the falling snow. By some miracle, he made it back to the cave. He hurried into the tent, wishing he had the material for a fire. For now, all he had was hope. 

“I heard them,” you said, still dazed. “I heard their voices calling to me in the storm.” 

“And you followed it?” He gasped, quickly undoing the fastens of his coat. “Are you mad? Even if they were out there, you’re no good to them frozen to death.” 

Kili shrugged out of his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. 

“No, Kili.” You tried to push him away, but he was stronger, fueled by panic and determination. “Kili, you’ll freeze.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said harriedly. He tied the entrance of the tent to keep out the frigid wind and laid down, gently pulling you along with him. Kili rubbed his hands up and down your arms, careful to keep the heap of furs wrapped tightly around you. He held you against his chest, his tunic slightly undone so you could feel the heat of his skin against your cheek. 

As his warmth broke through the icy surface that suffocated your entire body, your mind started to clear. It started to wake up.

And when it did all you could see was his wide, golden-brown eyes searching yours with a fire you’d seen a few times before. Once when you’d been separated from him and his brother for a week on a particularly stressful journey and the other when your village was attacked and your sisters were taken. Each time, he looked as though he was looking at the sun for the first time. 

At the time, you didn’t understand, or perhaps you didn’t let yourself understand. You understood now what that fire meant. 

He was, and would always be, your shelter. 

Like magnets, you somehow were drawn together still, despite already being impossibly close. The air between you was hot with your breathing. Everything seemed to stand still, from the raging winds outside to the racing heart inside your chest. 

Neither of you said a word, an entire conversation held simply in the lock of your gazes. 

Kili’s hand cradled the back of your head, laying it against his chest. You felt the soft, sweet warmth of his lips on your forehead. 

Despite the hauntings of your mind, your heart gave you leave to rest in the strength and comfort of Kili’s embrace, allowing both of you to slip back into the persistent reach of slumber. 

-

The storm blocked the pass by morning and, without any equipment, there was no way to get over. It had all been for nothing. 

Fili found you halfway back down the mountain, the pony’s back covered with more supplies. 

“What happened to you two?” He asked.

“We couldn’t find them,” you snapped, hurrying ahead of both of them. 

Fili turned to his brother. 

Kili shook his head. 

Your party of three traveled until you found the nearest tavern and the boys made you stop for the night, watching exhaustion seep into your every step. 

Dinner was had in silence with an air hanging so thick that Fili felt he would choke on it. He could never imagine the two of you fighting- he knew that his brother would never forgive himself if he ever hurt you. But he also knew Kili’s true feelings towards his best friend and Fili couldn’t help but wonder if something had been revealed while he was gone. 

“We’ll start up toward the northern villages in a few days,” Kili said. “It’ll give us some time to rest, regroup, and plan.” 

You stared at your plate. “What’s the point?” 

Both turned to you. 

Kili’s eyes softened. “Y/N, you don’t mean that.”

“They’re gone, Kili.” You blinked back tears. “We could search until the end of time and we still wouldn’t find them.”

“Then to the end of time we will look because I am not giving up,” he insisted. His dark eyes took on that glimmer from last night, igniting something within you. 

Your nightmare wasn’t the only thing that frightened you. 

“I’m going to my room,” you said, pushing away from the table. Your form disappeared up the stairs with the gaze of both princes trailing after you. 

Kili sighed, running his fingers through his long, dark hair. 

“You just going to let her go?” Fili scoffed. 

“What would you have me do?” 

Fili shook his head and took a drink of his ale. 

Kili narrowed his eyes. “What?”

His brother raised a brow. “Y/N is the most stubborn, persistent, devoted woman I’ve ever met. She isn’t giving up on looking for her sisters. She’s worried about continuing the search with us.” 

“What?” Kili exclaimed. “What are you talking about?”

“Kili, brother,” Fili sighed. “I’m saying maybe my absence was exactly the two of you needed and you’re both still avoiding what I’ve seen for as long as we’ve known Y/N.” He finished off his ale and snatched Kili’s away before he could protest. “Now go talk to her.” 

Kili swallowed, staring at the steps. It took one final shove from his brother to actually get him to stand up and move. 

As he ascended the stairs, Kili thought about everything Fili had said. What did he mean, his absence was what you two needed? What did he know that Kili didn’t? 

Of course, the younger prince knew exactly what his brother meant. He’d always known, even when he didn’t know how to admit it. But waking up in that tent, the panicked thoughts of you out in the storm, alone, the terror of losing you to the ice and snow, and holding you in his arms to keep you warm all revealed exactly what had been in his heart all these years. 

He loved you. 

Perhaps Fili was right. 

Maybe it was time to finally tell you. 

Kili found your room and stood before it for a good long while. He tried raising his hand to knock, but he was just… frozen in place. 

What if this was a mistake? 

What if decades of friendship fell apart in this moment?

What if-

The door opened and his heart stopped. 

You startled back at the sight of his big brown eyes. The eyes you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. The ones you wanted to get lost in and never be found. And he was there, waiting for you. 

You both opened your mouths to speak and stopped, waiting for the other person, leaving you both in a tense silence. The same tension from the tent. The one that drew you together, closer and closer. 

“Kili, I-”

His lips caught yours, silencing the words you still weren’t sure how to say. You let your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, closer still if that was even possible. Every moment, every breath from the last few days had been leading to this. And all either of you could think was one word. 

Finally. 

And as Fili watched you pull Kili into your room, kicking the door closed behind him, he was thinking the same thing. 

“Finally,” he muttered, shaking his head as he went to his room, glad to have it to himself for a change. 

-

Kili’s lips brushed against your forehead, the rest of your body completely tangled with his. Your arms wrapped around his bare chest, your legs wound between his, and your head was tucked under his chin. Your naked skin burned against each other but you never wanted it to stop. 

And between every sigh, every pleasured cry or whispered word came one phrase. I love you. 

He said it again, now. “I love you.” 

You turned to look up at him. Into those eyes. The gaze that captured you more and more every time. 

“And I you,” you said, kissing his collarbone, then his jaw, then finally his lips. “I have loved you ever since you taught me to shoot an arrow through the apples on our tree.” 

Kili grinned, deepening the kiss and moving so his face hovered over yours. 

“I’m still not giving up, you know,” he whispered. “We will find your sisters. And we will do it together.”

You wrapped a brown curl around your finger and nodded. 

“I know. Before, I was just… scared.” You turned your head away. “That storm took me to a place I don’t want to go again.”

Kili laid a hand on your cheek, bringing your eyes back to his. “I’ll keep you safe.” He kissed your forehead again. “I promise.” 

After letting the seriousness of your words settle for a moment, you grinned mischievously and rolled so that you straddled him. 

“We should have tried this sooner,” you smirked. 

Kili laughed and rolled again, putting him back above you. “It’s certainly a good way to stay warm.”

[majosullivan]

Castle Swimmer Dashboard Simulator

🪸 classycoral Follow

If there’s one thing that I’ve learnt while traveling the sea, it’s that prophecies can really range from being the silliest of tales to the most horrific things you will ever of having the dismay of laying your eyes on

🪸 classycoral Follow

Like I’ll visit one castle and their prophecy will be ‘It’s been destined that the beacon will use this frog to predict the future so we can prepare for it :)’ and then the next castle I visit will have a prophecy like ‘It is been foretold from centuries past that the beacon shall arrive and save us from a plague that has been taunting us since ancient time. Through sacrifical ritual, they shall free us from this torment’

#like who is coming up with these #are you guys doing okay???

154,879 notes

💧 oceaneyes Follow

I heard there’s hot singles at the bottom of the God Mouth

⚜️ minigod-fucker Follow

out of the way boys I’m about to GET IT

⚜️ minigod-fucker Follow

got trapped in unending darkness surrounded by voices

9,264 notes

🪷 through-the-reef Follow

I’m currently traveling through the Purple Peaks and it’s absolutely gorgeous here! I have no idea why there seems to be so few people living here, it seems wonderful!

🪷 through-the-reef Follow

GIANT CRAB, GIANT CRAB, GIANT CRAB-

13,521 notes

✨ give-that-axolotl-a-knife Follow

Does anyone else feel like the surface god is just toying with you how they please. They think they’re so funny. Well I’m about to be hilarious

🎼 beautifulabyss Follow

this feels so threatening, are you doing okay op?

24,957 notes

🌊 squids Follow

Being alive is so wonderful because there is so many beautiful places in the ocean you can explore and so many fascinating creatures you can see. However there are also the unending horrors

6,496 notes

🖼️ ocean-landscapes Follow

The Blue Hills

832 notes

💰 needling-on Follow

GUYS I MIGHT BE GOING INSANE BUT I’M CURRENTLY OUTSIDE TRAINING AND I SWEAR I JUST SAW ONE OF THE RULERS AT MY CASTLE GO FLYING OUT THE CASTLE WINDOW

💰 needling-on Follow

NOT INSANE, A GROUP OF HIS PEOPLE JUST CAME SWIMMING OUT CALLING AFTER HIM, OH MY GOD I CAN’T BREATH

💰 needling-on Follow

UPDATE: THEY’RE COMING BACK WITH HIM NOW AND HE MUST HAVE FALLEN INTO A SCHOOL OF PRETTY VICIOUS FISH CAUSE HE’S COVERED IN BITE MARKS AND THERE’S STILL ONE BITING HIM. I FEEL LIKE I’M GOING TO CRACK A RIB

284,047 notes

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

Alright guys which mini god from the ones y’all know about do you think you could take

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

IN A FIGHT IN A FIGHT IN A FIGHT

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

Blocked blocked blocked. None of you are seeing the light of the surface

69,638 notes

🌺 lesbiankelp Follow

Life is so fucking unfair cause kelp dragons are SO beautiful and magnificent and enchanting and I would do ANYTHING to get up close to or even pet one, but the moment one would see me they would immediately try to swallow me whole like a shrimp

#they’re so pretty and for what #AND FOR WHAT?! #I just want to give them a little kiss on top of your head… #is that too much to ask?

2,749 notes

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

THE BEACON IS TWENTY???

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

THEY SHOULD BE AT THE CLUB…

💧 oceanxeyes Follow

h

HUH?

🎼 beautifulabyss Follow

I’m sorry, the beacon is WHAT?

🫧 bubbly-bubbles Follow

🪸 classycoral Follow

No because like my castle’s prophecy is nearing 200 years old and I’ve met a ton of people whose prophecies are over twice that age. How in the name of the Surface God are they only 20?

🌱 seaweed-brains Follow

Okay this post just unlocked some long dormant memories in my brain and if I don’t talk about it with someone outside my castle I think I’ll lose my mind so you guys better be sitting down.

For some context: until around 7-8 years ago, my people were under almost constant threat of these giant sea snakes because they had unknowingly killed the head of their den. Savage things. Would take any opportunity to attack us. We couldn’t even find a new castle cause they would follow us everywhere. Because of all this, our elders ended up creating a prophecy, which stated that the Beacon would eat the carcass of the head snake, causing the rest of the sea snakes to leave us alone.

So when I was like 13, the Beacon had arrived at our castle to fulfil our prophecy, and as you can expect, we were all very excited and I remember trying to get to the front of the crowd as fast as possible to see them. They were like nothing I have ever seen before and have seen since, we all were in complete awe of them. However, the thing about them that ended up surprising me the most was that they were young. Like, pretty damn young. They looked a little younger than me. So while our monarch quickly went to make sure all the preparations were complete, they entrusted my parents with making sure the Beacon was comfortable, giving my family the opportunity to have small chat with them. Curiousity getting the better of me, I asked how old they were. 13. They said they’re 13 years old. They were MY age. I didn’t know what to do at that point and basically throughout the entire time our prophecy was being completed, my mind was just stuck thinking about if I was destined to eat that giant smelly snake

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

Ex

EX-FUCKING-CUSE ME???

🎼 beautifulabyss Follow

WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

I need a whole day to fully process that prophecy alone what in the actual fuck

🌺 lesbiankelp Follow

Did…

…did they eat the snake carcass?

🌱 seaweed-brains Follow

THE WHOLE THING…

🫧 bubbly-bubbles Follow

🪸 classycoral Follow

and people still think I was exaggerating about how wild prophecies are. How in the entire sea does being attacked by sea snakes lead to the Beacon needing to eat a giant carcass? Who is coming up with these solutions? Show me their workings

💧 oceanxeyes Follow

The Beacon arriving at another castle to help people fulfil their prophecy, only to find that it’s another one written by freaks:

🐚 sandyshells Follow

t

th

…the beacon is real?

🔱 poisedposeidon Follow

🌺 lesbiankelp Follow

HELLO?

🌫️ surface-and-beyond Follow

Sandy get back here right now what do u MEAN you didn’t know the Beacon was real???

🐚 sandyshells Follow

MY PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS SAID THE BEACON WAS JUST PART OF ANCIENT MYTHOLOGY…we were always told growing up that prophecies and the lot were just stories and such. You’re telling me that there’s actually a divine being going around helping people by eating snakes and stuff???

🌫️ surface-and-beyond Follow

Y E A H

🐚 sandyshells Follow

WHAT THE HELL

♠️ mistressofthedarkseas Follow

This whole post is a mess holy shit

498,690 notes

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: The Old Forest

FINALLY making some progress in the book again, holy cow. It was beginning to feel like Fellowship really would take seventeen years.

I really love the thunder in Frodo’s dream from the last chapter turning into the sound of Merry banging on the door at the start of this one. It’s incredibly cinematic and mashes you feel like you’re watching a movie :-D

“Even Pippin is up” Even Pippin, he says! Pippin the notorious late-riser

Today’s vocabulary word is: spinney! It’s a British term for “a small area of trees and bushes.”

Aww Fatty seeing them off with “good luck to you—today and every day!” That’s a blessing Frodo is gonna sorely need.

Pippin: “Is it actually dangerous in here?” Merry: “Nah, the trees only bite sometimes.”

Tolkien is so good with suspense and writing things that give you the creeps. This is one of those times.

Pippin’s solution to the trees being mean is to yell at them

It’s really interesting to notice the pattern of hope and despair in the way Tolkien writes. Every time get the sense that the hobbits are about to give up, like clockwork, some good fortune entices them to take another step. First the appearance of the Bonfire Glade, and then the easier path, and now the hill…little valleys of despair juxtaposed with little victories, leading them forward like a breadcrumb trail.

Ooh the Barrow-Downs, dun dun dunnn

The forest slowly forcing the hobbits off the track they want to go is SO CREEPY and so good

There is definitely something almost hypotonic about the repetition of the word “willows” as Token describes the river scene

Heeheehee Old Man Willow time

There is something about Merry begging Frodo and Sam to follow Old Man Willow’s orders that is just DEEPLY disturbing to me. Gives me vibes like that episode of Sherlock when Moriarty is speaking through helpless people to whom he has strapped a vest full of explosives. But Old Man Willow doesn’t have a voice, so how does Merry know what he wants?? How is he speaking through this hobbit?? I hate it I hate it I love that I hate it

IT’S TOM BOM

TIM BIM

THOMAS BOMBADOMAS

In which Tom Bombadil spanks a tree for being naughty

Old Man Willow spitting Pippin out will never not be funny 🤣

The whole Tom Bombadil sequence is definitely a fever dream of “I don’t think we’re in Middle Earth anymore, Toto”, and ya either love it or you hate it

[schrijverr]

I Didn’t Mean to Say I Do, but I Do. I Do. 11

Chapter 11 out of 50

Secret marriage of convenience buddie slow burn AU, where Buck and Eddie have been married for years so Buck could adopt Chris and no one at the 118 knows.

In this chapter, Helena and Ramon are staying for the week, so now Eddie has to figure out how to co-exist with his parents again without Chris or Buck as buffer or back up. Their pushing of his buttons reminds him that this life he has with Buck is temporary and while Eddie doesn’t panic, he does a little anyway.

On AO3.

Ships: Buddie (slow burn)

Warnings: ableism, emotionally abusive parents, internalized misogyny, internalized homophobia, insecurity, misogyny, homophobia

~~~

Chapter 11: The Horrible In-Laws Stay

Buck is fleeing his house. He doesn’t like to admit to it and he doesn’t like thinking about it, but it is sadly true.

The Sunday with Helena and Ramon wasn’t any better than the other two days and Buck is regretting asking the weekend off for Chris’s birthday. It’s been a whole weekend of little comments and all of them desperately trying to keep the peace.

The only person who has had a good time is Chris, which is the most important, but it still kind of sucks all around. The fact that it’s going to last until Friday is enough to have him running for the hills.

Sometimes Buck wonders if he doesn’t like Helena and Ramon, because he’s been introduced to them as the concept of the horrible ex-in-laws first. However, after being exposed to them these past few years, he thinks he probably would have come to that conclusion on his own.

With them here, the whole vibe in the house has been thrown off. Eddie has been sleeping on the couch, which isn’t great for him – no matter how much his injuries have healed already – and Buck feels like he’s walking on eggshells, trying to make them forget that he is, in fact, Eddie’s husband and Chris’s other dad, even if it’s only for now and not forever.

He wants to have Eddie’s back, he does. However, it’s so frustrating to watch him snap to attention under his father eyes like a good little soldier. He wants to drag his dumb head off that couch and out of his ass, but he hasn’t found a way to do that yet without everything exploding in his face. So, he can’t deny the reprieve work gives him isn’t nice.

Still, he also can’t deny it follows him into work. Hen has been off a few shifts, but hasn’t mentioned why yet, so he isn’t entirely alone in being weighed down and he finds some solace in the shared misery.

And it’s nice, because the 118 is a family too, one he can run too when it gets rough home, and they pick up on it. Even if they might not know what they’re picking up on. Chimney takes one look at him and whistles: “Oef, bad date?”

“You can say that,” Buck groans as he takes the mug of coffee Bobby offers him and slumps down over the breakfast bar.

“What happened?” Hen asks, both concerned and a little invested. It should be rude that someone is using his troubles for drama, but he can’t help but be fond.

Then he realizes he needs to answer that question. A part of him wants to open up about his in-laws being there, but another part of him doesn’t want to explain the whole thing and hear the opinion of someone else about it. He knows he’s letting himself get in way too deep for something that isn’t going to last, but if no one else knows, no one else can tell him that harsh truth. So he settles on something vague: “The parents came by. They hate me.”

“The parents? Are you fo real?” Hen says.

“That sounds serious,” Chimney adds, raising one of his brows.

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone like that, why didn’t you mention it?” Bobby asks.

“But that’s it,” Buck sighs, moping into his coffee. “I’m not. We’re not even dating.”

“Really, you ran into a hook ups parents?” Chimney inquires, a little too gleeful.

Hen smirks: “At least it wasn’t on the clock. Didn’t you take the weekend off? What, did your marathon sex get interrupted?”

Luckily, Buck doesn’t have to dignify that with a response (not that he would have known what to say beyond ‘I wish’) because the alarm goes off and they all have to rush into their turn out gear, all of them complaining about not getting to eat breakfast instead of focusing on Buck’s problems.

The call is nothing big, but Buck’s mind isn’t all there during it either. He needs something to get him out of his own head. So when they get back and Bobby starts cooking breakfast, Buck slides up next to him, taking over half the chopping work.

“Everything okay?” Bobby asks, annoyingly perceptive as always.

“Just thinking about the weekend,” Buck says, not even knowing he wanted to talk about it until he already is.

“Your interrupted date?”

“I said it wasn’t like that. We’re friends.”

“But you’d like to be more?”

Fuck Bobby for being so perceptive and caring and making Buck feel safe and wanting to open up, it is truly annoying (but also good, so good. Buck has always craved to know what it would be like to have a dad who cares, who wants to know things about him, who sees him). “Yeah. I do.”

Bobby nods thoughtfully for a moment, then asks: “Is there a reason you haven’t made a move on this girl yet, if it isn’t like that? If you don’t mind me saying, with your past, I would have thought you’d say something to her?”

Of course. Her. Buck isn’t out at work and Bobby has no reason to think that sex crazed frat bro Buck is anything other than straight. Though maybe it would be worse if he had rightly guessed bisexual, because that would have been based on a stereotype.

So far the work environment has been very accepting, but despite how nice he is and how safe Buck feels, Bobby is an older Christian and Buck isn’t about to risk it all with the in-laws in town. So, he shrugs: “I’m just trying to deal with her parents first. It’s not the best relationship and I’m trying not to interfere too much, but also have her back, you know? I’m trying to not fuck it up.”

“That is very mature of you, Buck.”

“Yeah, well, I’m trying that too,” Buck laughs humorlessly. He’s been playing at an adult who knows what he’s doing since he was twenty-three and Shannon just left Chris behind. Trying to be mature for so long. Having Helena and Ramon here makes him question if he ever succeeded.

“Hey, come on, kid. Look at me,” Bobby says and despite his mind screaming at him to not do it, Buck does. He doesn’t find any disappointment or judgment like he was expecting, instead Bobby looks sympathetic and understanding.

Buck swallows heavily, suddenly feeling very small in a good way under Bobby’s gaze.

“You’ve come a long way from the punk that walked in here. If you want things, like closeness, intimacy, trust, those things don’t come for free. Any woman you’ll meet has lived a life and she’s gonna come with some baggage. You’re ready for that, if you want that. But it sounds like you’re hoping to pull her out of this trap she’s in with her family. That’s not going to happen. What she needs is for you to step inside with her, keep her company in there. You can do it.”

And it’s clear Bobby doesn’t have the whole story and doesn’t know what’s going on exactly, but it does so much good to hear Bobby has faith in him, that Bobby thinks he can handle something mature, that he is ready for it.

Beyond that, Bobby says he needs to join Eddie in the trap that is his parents, not try to pull him out. That’s good to hear in a different way.

This whole time he’s been frustrated with Eddie wanting him to snap out of the practically conditioned reaction he’s had to his parents. However, that isn’t what Eddie needs him to do.

Eddie has always needed him to be there next to him to be a rock when the tide that is his parents washes over him. He doesn’t need someone to point out he’s being a stupid asshole, he’s aware of that. What he needs is for someone to be in his corner when he can snap out of it. That’s all Buck has to do. That’s all Buck can do.

Knowing that makes it a little easier to let go of the undercurrent of hurt that still clings to him after the nights spend alone in a bed that is only his anyway.

“Thanks, Bobby,” is what he says, instead of revealing any of that.

Bobby seems to sense that this is the end of the conversation and just gives him a paternal nod, before holding out a hand for the vegetables Buck cut. Buck smiles as he hands them over, this week might not be totally terrible.

Meanwhile Eddie is having the worst time. Chris is off at school for the day and Buck is at work, meaning Eddie is stuck with his parents by himself. He’s been studying for the academy, wanting to fly through it, but he doesn’t think it’ll be smart to ditch them for that. They don’t exactly approve of his plans and he doesn’t feel like hashing it out again.

So here he is, awkwardly taking his parents to lunch somewhere that is nice enough so that he doesn’t seem cheap and broke, but no so expensive that it’ll be an actual issue for their budget.

And it is awkward. Awkward and uncomfortable.

Eddie wishes Buck was there, not because he wishes this on Buck, but because Buck knows how to speak up when it’s about Eddie. Buck doesn’t fold like he does under his mom’s eyes, because Buck has never been the man of the house, yet the son of one of the people he was supposed to protect and provide for.

Despite his best efforts, they still end up on the topic of his future job. “You really have your heart set on it, Eddie? You’re sure?” his mom asks with a tone that tells him she isn’t.

“Yes, mom. I’m starting the academy soon and in a few months I’ll be out there fighting fires,” Eddie says, because it’s the only job he can picture having right now. He’s worked so hard for it and it actually sounds fulfilling and like something he wants to do. He’s at least going to defend it.

“I don’t like it,” Helena huffs.

His papi nods, but then concedes: “At least the whole Evan business will be over then.”

“What?” he asks, confused as to what on earth they could be talking about.

“Your marriage,” Helena says slowly, as if she thinks he’s thick. If they didn’t blame Shannon for Chris’s CP, he thinks she would believe he got it from him. He hates them both for that. Chris’s CP isn’t anyone’s fault, nor is it a fault.

However, his brain is a little occupied with what she actually said to get into that. So he frowns: “What do you mean with that?”

“Oh come on, Edmundo,” Ramon says and Eddie has always hated how his full name sounds in his papi’s mouth. “We both know you married that man to be petty and stubborn. You did it, you got back at us by being with him through your service and I suppose it was convenient when you recovered and insisted you moved here, but you can work again. You can be supported by one firefighter salary, that much we can see at least. So it’s time for you to be done with this nonsense and find a wife to provide for. Someone who can take care of Chris.”

“Buck takes care of Chris.” There are so many things Eddie can and wants to say to that, but it’s the only thing he manages.

Eddie doesn’t panic, but if he did, he imagines it would feel somewhat close to this. Because he and Buck got married with the knowledge they’ll divorce one day, but Eddie never considered the possibility that ‘one day’ will be in a few months. But his parents are right, there is no good reason to be married to Buck anymore once he starts working, and somehow that thought is terrifying.

“He’s barely home enough to take care of Christopher,” his mom scoffs. “And soon you won’t be either. You need a softer presence to be there for him when you can’t be, someone who is more gentle.”

Anger bubbles up in him at how she talks about Chris. It’s a familiar anger, one that is less confusing or fueled by insecurities, so he clings to that: “I’m plenty soft for Chris and we’re gentle enough, but he’s not a baby, mom. He’s seven. If you flew all the way out here to hark on my parenting choices the entire week we can rebook your flight so you leave today. I’m not going to hear about it. I mean it.”

“We’re just worried,” Helena tries to soothe him, though condescension coats every word. “It’s not easy to raise a child alone.”

“I’m not doing it alone,” Eddie crosses his arms stubbornly. Defensively. Scared. “I’m doing it with Buck.”

“And he’s not going to be there forever,” Helena says.

“But he’ll be there until I’m not alone anymore,” Eddie counters, unsure why the thought makes him hot and cold all over. And also unsure if it’s true. It has always been implied, but they never said it explicitly. What if Buck has been waiting until Eddie has gotten his certification so he can get out of there?

Eddie feels unsteady. His breathing is a little off and he wants to get out of there. Now.

He gets up, chair scraping over the chair as he floats above himself, watching himself stand up and say: “I’m going to pay the bill and you two are going to visit Abuela. You know how to Uber, you’ll figure it out. I can’t see you two right now.”

With that he walks off, pays their bill and gets out of there, ignoring his parents’ protests, while he gets in his truck and leaves them there.

The thoughts never stop spinning, but by the time he’s home, he feels guilty about just abandoning his parents in the middle of LA. He didn’t even check if they had wallets or their phone. Luckily, when he checks his own, he has a confused message from Abuela about them showing up, so they’re at least safe.

There is still an uncomfortable knot in his stomach, which he might call anxiety about what Buck is thinking, if he were the kind of person who gets anxious that is. And he isn’t. Eddie doesn’t do anxious, or panicked, or stressed. He just needs to suck it up and he’ll be fine.

He doesn’t manage to fully suck it up, but he calms down enough to drive by Abuela’s house when picking up Chris so they can join him. None of them say anything about that afternoon, nor for the rest of the day.

His mom makes dinner, since Buck is on shift until late, but Eddie makes sure to save him a plate for when he gets home, which he does after Chris is already put to bed.

The three Diazes are sitting at the kitchen table when he comes stumbling in, obviously having showered at work and dead on his feet. Eddie tells him to sit his ass down, while he goes to warm up some dinner for him.

When he returns, he hears his mom talking before he can enter again. “It’s just awfully late for Chris to go to bed at that time. He needs his rest. All the extra energy he extends with all the walking you two have him do.”

“Chris gets plenty of sleep. Eddie knows what’s best for his son. He set the bed time, I just help enforce it. When it comes to raising Chris, I’m always gonna defer to Eddie. He knows what he’s doing,” Buck replies, sounding tired yet forceful.

The unwavering support Buck shows here warms Eddie’s heart and that knot that has been in the background all day unravels slightly. Buck is going to be in his corner, always. He’s not going to let his parents make him doubt that. Eddie knows what he’s doing, Buck agrees. It doesn’t matter where their marriage goes, he’s going to be here.

It gives him a confidence boost and he walks into the room, giving Buck the food with a smile, letting his hand linger on Buck’s shoulder for a moment, before plopping down next to him like he always does, but hasn’t been that weekend. Next to him, Buck lights up, tired smile on his face as he knocks his foot against Eddie’s, as he begins shoveling food into his mouth.

Helena and Ramon look on, either displeased by Buck firmly but politely shutting them down or by the very unattractive way he is eating.

When he is done with dinner, Buck says his polite goodnights, before retreating to his bed. They had quite some calls and he’s tired. He’ll talk more with them tomorrow. Eddie mourns his lack of presence by his side when he’s gone.

The three of them go to bed soon after that, the atmosphere not great for staying up late to talk. He doesn’t care about that as much as he would have that morning.

Once they’ve all brushed their teeth, Eddie gets overtaken by a wave of defiance. He knows what he’s doing, he can stand up to his parents, he has back up. So he finds himself snatching his pillow from the couch, before wishing his parents goodnight and disappearing into Buck’s bedroom – with a perhaps slightly dramatic exit – before they can say anything.

As he stated before, Buck is indeed in the middle of the bed and Eddie feels slightly insecure now that he’s actually there. However, the door must have woken him, because blearily, he asks: “Eddie? That you?”

“Yeah, this still okay?” Eddie asks softly, not wanting to disturb Buck more as he approaches the bed with his pillow.

Buck opens one eye, expression melting into a smile when he sees Eddie there, probably looking like an idiot in his pajamas with his pillow, like a kid at a sleepover. Still, the expression calms Eddie and he climbs in when Buck wordlessly rolls to the side to make place for him.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

“Of course,” Buck replies, getting comfortable again. “The couch finally killing your back too much?”

“Nah,” Eddie says, realizing too late he probably should have taken the out, but now in too deep and too stubborn to back out. “Tired of listening to my parents bullshit.”

“Recognize that,” Buck snorts.

And it should be rude and Eddie should be offended on behalf of them, but he can’t bring himself to do anything other than laugh right back, before getting comfortable next to Buck too. It’s the best night he’s had in a long while.

Buck feels much better when wakes up the next morning with Eddie next to him. It makes him a little smug too, to know Eddie picked Buck over his parents bullshit – Eddie’s words. Bobby was right, he can so do this.

Still, he doesn’t want to push his luck, so he carefully extracts himself from the bed, thinking Eddie can use the sleep after so many nights on that couch. Don’t get him wrong, it is a great couch, but it doesn’t top sleeping on a bed, especially when recently injured.

Once he is free he pads out of the room and down the hall to get started on some coffee and breakfast. He hopes Helena and Ramon sleep in, so he can be out the door to drive Chris to school before they get up. However, they wake up when Chris’s crutches clatter to the kitchen and only Eddie sleeps like the dead. He is sorely missed.

However, Buck has learned that being cheerfully hospitable makes it harder for them to find anything to comment on, so he serves them coffee and eggs with bacon as he chatters happily about nonsensical things until Chris pulls him into a conversation about dinosaurs that he is more than happy to have. Especially when it gives him a reason to follow him through his morning routine, before telling him to say bye to his grandparents and driving him to school.

It’s a nice reprieve, just him and Chris. He spends the first few minutes listening to Chris ramble about dinosaurs, before there is a brief pause and he asks: “So, how are you feeling about grandma and abuelo visiting? Are you having fun?”

“Yeah,” Chris says brightly. “It is like having a secret vacation while still in school.”

“That’s good,” Buck smiles, glad to have checked in. He knows he and Eddie are sometimes annoyed with them, but they want Chris to still have them in his life. He adores them, which is understandable since he spend a lot of time at their house before they moved here.

If Chris is having a good time with his grandparents here, then he and Eddie can put up with it to make him happy. Eddie grew up with a lot of family, he wants that for Chris too. Buck never had any family around and that chafed, so he wants Chris to have something different from him.

Though, he can’t deny that his heart does a little happy dance when Chris says: “But it will be nice when it is just us again. Grandma doesn’t like it when I eat popcorn.”

Buck snorts at that, Helena certainly does not like Chris eating popcorn, what if he chokes on one of the pieces! But he doesn’t make a snide comment, instead he just says: “We’ll have a movie night once they’re on the plane back home, I’ll make you your own bucket.”

“Yay,” Chris cheers, oblivious to the fact that getting his own bucket means that Buck and Eddie have a lot more control about how much popcorn he consumes.

For now, Buck lets him live in the fantasy, pulling up to school drop off and helping Chris out of the car, before hugging him goodbye. Chris doesn’t want to be walked to the door anymore and Buck dreads the day he no longer wants to be hugged goodbye either.

He stands there until Chris is in the building, not because he thinks he can’t make it on his own, but because he loves that kid and wants to imprint him on his brain and spend as much time as he can looking at him, making sure he knows him the best he can.

Then with a little bit of apprehension, he gets back in the car and drives home.

When he enters the house is silent. He cautiously steps inside, feeling like a fucking idiot as he peers across the corner of the kitchen. No Helena or Ramon, just Eddie, nursing a coffee as he pours over a folder, because he’s a little nerd who is studying early. Buck’s heart beats fondly as he watches him for a second.

“Where are your parents?” he dares after a second of nothing changing.

Eddie startles slightly at the sound, before he spots Buck and his face softens. Then his smile turns a little sheepish as he says: “They’re out exploring the town together. I think I kind of made them not want to be around when I left them at a restaurant yesterday.”

“You left them at a restaurant?” Buck eyebrows climb up his forehead as he can’t help but repeat the information in a shocked tone.

“Oh, yeah, they kept trying to get me to divorce you so I can find a proper wife now that I recovered and acting like you’re not there to parent Chris with me,” Eddie says, making a face.

Buck’s heart is all over the place today and right now it’s hammering in his throat. Carefully he says: “And- And you didn’t want that?”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head firmly, before he looks at Buck and suddenly turns into himself. “Do you?”

It’s the opposite of what he wants and he never wants to give Eddie the idea that Buck wants him to leave, so he quickly says: “No, no, I don’t want to.” Then he thinks he might sound too eager, so he jokes: “Besides, I don’t think we can afford the mortgage without the tax breaks.”

“Oh shove off, we can, but not with one income. I don’t know why they want me to get a wife or act like I’m going to kick you out the second I find someone,” Eddie huffs.

A stupid hopeful feeling unfurls itself in Buck’s chest and he can’t help but attempt (and fail a little) at casually asking: “You’re not looking for a girlfriend at least?”

Eddie looks surprised by the question, as if he hadn’t considered it, before he quickly wipes that expression away. He shrugs: “I will, but not yet. I want to get into a work rhythm first. Besides, you know I’m not a going out to the club or a bar kind of person. I don’t even know how I’m going to meet someone with the life I have.”

Buck doesn’t want to remind him of the single mom’s at Chris’s school or the people he’ll encounter on calls, instead teasing: “Dating apps exist, you technophobe.”

“Anyone can be anyone on there,” Eddie says, scandalized. “And they steal your data.”

“Oh my god, you’re such a dork,” Buck laughs.

“Shut up,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but he’s laughing too. Then he asks: “Are you looking for someone?”

“Uh,” Buck says, before recovering swiftly. “Nah.”

“Really? Why?” Eddie asks, looking as if he’d rather not push, but feels like he has to.

‘Because I’m madly in love with you,’ is what Buck doesn’t answer. He does want something serious, just not with anyone other than Eddie and he technically already has that, even if there is less kissing involved than he’d like, seeing that there is none.

He’s not going to say that though, so instead he shrugs: “I get enough serious at my job-” and here, but I’m not going to point that out to you “-so if I’m with someone, it’ll just be a casual night of fun to release some energy or something. I’ve had a few hook ups, but like you said, it’s kind of a hassle to go look for something, so why bother? I got a hand.”

“Too much information,” Eddie grimaces, which doesn’t make Buck want to curl up at all, no, sir.

“Fuck off, I know you’re not innocent either.” Buck doesn’t know that, but Eddie doesn’t know that he doesn’t know that and the look of embarrassment on his face is a little worth it, especially since it breaks the tension and gets them onto different topics, the two of them relaxing into each other’s presence as they do chores around the house and indulge in hobbies.

Despite the weird ending to the conversation, Buck feels more settled than he has in days – maybe even weeks – and more secure in his place here. It is still temporary, but the clock has gotten more days added to it. And he’s not just getting kicked out the second Eddie finds someone. Buck doesn’t dare to hope for more than that.

[extra-vertebrae]

I'm going to sperg about the Silent Hill 2 Remake for a second - two three of my favourite things while making my way through my first playthrough:

First off, favourite boss:

This bitch:

When I got to this room I knew some shit was going to go down there when I would need to come back to open the fireplace. The far wall looked suspiciously barren. I figured it'd be where the smaller Abstract Daddies would appear (by Kool-Aid), since they roamed the halls of the hotel in the original game, and I hadn't encountered them yet in the remake.

A dial up tone all but literally played in my skull when that wall indeed came down, and it wasn't a pair of mini Abstract Daddies that "SURPRISE, BITCH'd" through it. "Is that a fucking Closer? Oh my god it's a MANDARIN." Cue a whole lot of running around trying to process what was in the room with me while I tried to decided if I should use my rifle ammo or not.

Having the Mandarin play a larger role in the game overall was a great choice in my opinion. They are an underrated monster for sure. Big props to the sound design team - I sat in the central room in the basement where there are two of them prowling about, just listening to them move around and growl for several minutes (I may or may not have also been shitting myself). Lots of obvious inspiration / callback to the Glutton for its vocalisations - good stuff!

I do also appreciate the absence of the smaller Abstract Daddies, as they never felt appropriate being in the hotel in the original after killing the boss. The Mandarins are the perfect substitute for a heavy enemy, and honestly, only one Abstract Daddy is enough. The lead-up to that fight in the bowels of the Prison was more oppressive than anything else - deeply disturbing in ways that I believe only really hit if you're already aware of what the Abstract Daddy represents. It was the one fight I was dreading in the remake after playing the original over 10 years ago.

That aside, my second favourite aspect so far, has been this:

When we meet him for the first time, Pyramid Head makes a slashing motion towards James hiding in the closet. When we enter into Blue Creek Apartments in the Otherworld, the suite we enter to is a direct mirror of Wood Side Apartment room 201, including the closet in which James had been hiding - but a colossal slash is now carved into the closet, matching the angle Pyramid Head had swung but a moment before.

Pyramid Head does not have the Great Knife yet at this stage, but still acted, in my opinion, as if he had it. It may be a stretch, as it flies in the face of one of the theories that Pyramid Head only receives the Great Knife when James is made aware of the possibility of ending his own life with the knife Angela gives to him, as it would raise the question of how Pyramid Head would foresee the granting of the Great Knife enough to enact a swipe as if he had it. (However, on the opposite end against this theory, if Angela's knife creates the Great Knife, what creates the spears later?) But, I like the idea and it's become something of a personal headcanon that that is what he's doing. Though I do wonder, if that is indeed what he is doing, what the follow up motion he makes when his arms are pulled back might mean in kind.

The third favourite thing: interacting with bread. Here I am running like my life depends on it (it does), mashing the interact button when my screen is invaded by Bread and a trophy pops for It's Bread. I had a true "???" moment that couldn't be properly processed until I found shelter again, lol.

Either way, a great remake - personally I hope that its success means we may see SH3 be given the same treatment.

I only have two complaints about the remake, and one is more of a quibble wherein I find it very funny that James just faceplants into doors instead of reaching for them as you get closer. Every time he bodies himself into a locked door it's almost like he's surprised it's locked, lmao.

My second complaint is that the game gave me a new catchphrase: "where is that fucking Mannequin?" Mannequins are enemy #1.

[buckybarnesss]

I'm thinking about how Eli is apparently living with Scott and an Argent. How Deaton moved to LA as well and Deaton never treated Derek that well.

It doesn't make sense that Scott would get custody over any of the living Hales or even Noah. How Derek supposedly never had any arrangements made up just in case. Especially since Derek lost his family when he was Eli's age.

there's no way in hell scott and allison have legal guardianship over eli. it's a laughable idea and it is the height of insult to even suggest that an argent should be involved with raising derek's son. derek and allison barely tolerated each other not to mention all the other history.

it begs the question why would he want to go with them anyway? if we're following what the movie was putting down than he doesn't know them. there is also no reason that eli should've been pushed to leave his home. his ancestral home at that. the place where so many hales had been born and died.

it also removes him from a stable environment with a support system after suffering a huge loss. the sheriff, malia and peter seem to have been around. noah stilinski was definitely heavily involved in eli's life plus he's the sheriff of the goddamned town. he'd be perfect for temporary guardianship at minimum.

malia and peter are directly related to him and are also shifters.

again, why the hell would eli go live with two people who aren't even remotely connected to him and he barely knows. he last met scott when he was three years old and allison has been dead his entire existence. these people are strangers.

it just gives you the idea that jeff wanted a "happy ending" for allison and scott while not addressing all the questions it brings up. like is scott even remotely prepared to take on a sixteen year old whose just gone through a very traumatic experience? what exactly is allison's mental status right now? she just came back from the dead. they want to handwave it away just like they did with malia's situation. homegirl was 17 when she died. wouldn't she want to like idk catch up on the world? spend time with her dad? her best friend lydia who really, deeply grieved her? figure things out before jumping into a relationship with her high school boyfriend who is now in his 30s? it's weird.

speaking of allison.

allison has been legally deceased for over a decade by the time of the movie.

even if they were to some how "lose" the investigation files surrounding her death and the autopsy report than they used isaac to do an off the books burial i'd imagine there's still a death certificate filed with the state. the social security administration would've been notified as well. there was also fbi presence in town on an active investigation at the time of her death and everyone in beacon hills knew she died.

this does bring up the matter of peter's legal status. is he considered legally dead too? i don't think so actually as everything was really shady about that situation and his nurse was in on the whole thing. i don't think he was declared missing let alone dead.

and also like the most obvious answer to all of this is cora hale. where the fuck is cora hale? she's derek's sister and eli's aunt. she would've stepped in. aggressively. the only answer is that jeff has her locked in the subplot basement.

you also can't convince me that derek hale wouldn't have his affairs in order.

not only did derek have the experience of going through the untimely death of his family at a young age but he also had to do it again with laura.

there's no way he didn't have a will and it'd likely have to go through the probate process so his estate could be executed. derek hale had assets.

the hales were loaded. they were rich. season 4 drove that point home. derek owned the building the loft was in. he also had a business at the time of his death too.

derek would've ensured eli's inheritance and stability in case something happened to him and none of it would've included scott mccall or an argent.

scott was never derek's alpha. derek was not part of the mccall pack.

this isn't to say scott couldn't mentor eli. that'd be fine. it'd bring things full circle in a way but it's dumb as hell for scott to take eli to LA and i do genuinely think it's out of character for scott. especially an adult scott but i've written about that somewhere on my blog i think.

jeff davis can meet me in hell is all i'm saying.

[brahmsthirdracket]

another little fic from bits of ancient and unfinished google docs - baby lando and max f

2008 

“Hey bug,” Jon doesn’t need to look up from where he’s holding Oli’s kart steady to sense Lando’s presence, “You okay?”

Lando’s quiet for long enough that Jon does look up then, takes in his small, damp figure, the way he’s fiddling with the zip on his jacket.

Jon straightens up.

“You didn’t wanna hang out with those kids?” He can see them through the driving rain on the other side of the car park, roughhousing under one of the other marquees. 

Lando shakes his head, leans his whole body against Jon’s in an unspoken request for comfort. Jon pulls him in for a cuddle.

“Well you can help me then, yeah? Teach me how to be a mechanic?”

He doesn’t let go until he feels a nod against his chest, and Lando blinks up at him with a weak smile.

For all that Lando follows Jon around like a lost puppy in the garage, once he’s pulled his helmet on, it’s all business. Jon’s not sure he’ll ever get used to how fucking good the kid is. 

On the ferry back to Portsmouth Lando trots after Jon out onto the wet, windy deck instead of whacking the buttons on the fruit machines in the lounge with the other kids. 

The deck is practically deserted this time of year, the other passengers taking refuge in cheap pints and chips laced in salt and vinegar. 

They huddle into their raincoats and lean against the railing. Lando’s got the little green frog sporting a striped Breton shirt and beret that had Jon fished out of the bargain bin in the onboard duty free and shoved over the counter with a Snickers and pack of smokes. Lando’s whole face had scrunched up in surprised joy when Jon handed it to him with a Nice work this weekend.

He watches now as Lando gives it a little kiss and tucks it carefully down the front of his raincoat with its froggy face sticking up over the zip. It’s strange, Jon supposes, an adored child of a multimillionaire, in raptures over a cheap toy.

They lean against the railing in companionable silence, content to let the thrum of the ship’s engine and the fine mist of drizzle wash over them.

“Jon?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you be with me forever?”

Jon looks down at him, at his sweet, earnest face, half-hidden by his hood and the frog. His eyes are the same colour as the churning sea and sky.

Jon, shrugs, doesn’t say Until I get a better job than performance coaching nine-year olds. 

“S’long as you need me, bug.”  

“Cool,” says Lando. He turns his face up into the rain and closes his eyes. “We’re gonna win a World Championship then.”

2009 

True to his word, Jon drives down to Glastonbury for the first weekend of the offseason. He sets off while it’s still dark; stops for fuel and bitter, petrol-station coffee that he downs in two, burning gulps somewhere near Dudley, and turns off the M5 just as the sun is coming up over the rolling Somerset hills. 

It’s only been a month or so since he last saw Lando, but it still feels like something’s shifted since Jon started uni. He wonders, again, if he’s out of mind for agreeing to this, agreeing to miss out on Friday nights at the SU and lazy, hungover mornings with bacon sandwiches and embarrassing pictures. The friendships he’s made still feel new, tentative and he knows that none of them understand why he’s missing parties and intramural football to babysit some kid at karting races. 

He doesn’t say that he could work at Spoons and JD and do the night shift at fucking Asda and he still wouldn’t make the money Adam’s offering him to do this. 

He also doesn’t say that it’s not some kid, it’s Lando and he’s going to win a World Championship someday. 

The last few miles through the patchwork green Somerset countryside, the dew still glistening in the patchwork fields and the spires of sleepy villages, somehow feel like coming home. 

The gravel crunches under his wheels as he turns down the wide, poplar-lined driveway. His mum’s Kia feels small and grubby parked next to a Range Rover with brand-new ‘09 plates. He’s half-in, half-out, hastily shovelling the accumulated debris of protein shake bottles, t-shirts and overdue library books onto the backseat, when something small careers into him from behind. 

“Jon!” Lando squeals, vibrating with anticipation and probably sugary cereal. “I missed you!” He’s run out into the driveway barefoot in what must be his little sister’s dressing gown.

“Me too, bug,” Jon says, scooping him up easily. Lando winds his arms around Jon’s neck and keeps up a constant stream of chatter in his ear. 

The kitchen is as warm and noisy as Jon remembers. He sets Lando down onto a countertop, so he can shake hands with his parents. He gives his sisters high-fives and Oli a fist bump; drops down to scratch the elderly retriever behind the ears.

Over tea, toast and scrambled eggs from the family chickens, Adam spreads out a meticulous printed calendar across the table. 

Lando wedges himself in between them, puts his elbow in the butter dish and beams at Jon. 

“You’re gonna be here like, every weekend. How cool is that?”

They talk logistics for most of the morning: new season regulations, upgrades, race calendars and training schedules. Jon’s not sure if he feels sorry for Lando and Oli or envious. It’s not much of a childhood, but perhaps if he’d spent more time doing interval training as a 12 year old, and less time watching Top Gear reruns and eating Monster Munch, he’d be doing something better with his life.

They don’t seem any the worse for it. They show Jon the new Scalextric set up in their playroom and Oli roundly thrashes him at Guitar Hero. 

Lando for his part, provides a running stream of helpful commentary from the arm of the sofa: “You’re like, okay, Jon, well actually you’re kind of slow but you’re trying so hard!”, until Jon decides that Adam is probably paying him for more than Wii golf and drags them both up onto the hills for a bike ride. 

2010

RFM brings a gruelling European schedule, a truly obscene technical and logistical setup and the stocky, baby-faced son of two stockbrokers who’d apparently dominated the Asian circuits. Max is the same age as Lando, curly-haired and just as weird.  

Max is also very good. 

Jon watches them make shy eyes at each other from across the garage for the best part of a morning before he loses patience. 

“Go and play with him,” he tells Lando, who’s making a nuisance of himself under Jon’s feet, and sends him off in Max’s direction with a gentle shove and a football he has no idea what to do with. 

Max turns out to be steady and gentle foil to Lando’s jittery hyperactivity, and by the time they arrive at Genk for the first race of the season, they’ve sporting Lando Norris friendship stickers on their helmets and Jon has to make actual conversation with adults. 

Inseparable as they are, it’s easier than not for Jon to take Max under his wing as well: to get them racing up and down the tiny hotel pools and endless corridors, to wrangle them under a single big umbrella during rain delays, to tuck them into bed together with Wallace and Gromit on Max’s portable DVD player.

“Night, half pints,” Jon murmurs when he comes in to turn off the light. They’re already fast asleep, little hands entwined on top of the covers.

[pharaohbean]

thank you everyone for the mafutoya food, much obliged, def cheered me up (my ask box is still open to more…..)

in return, my own mafutoya hcs/fic ideas/just general spouting:

composer buddies. i will die on this hill. theyre an online duo like 25ji and they make music together and their groups have NO idea (bonus points if someone(s) from their group also follow them). i will die on this hill. its hilarious.

on that note, mafuyu taught toya a bit of how to compose— i would imagine she helped him refine how to put emotions into song (since she did that quite well as we know)

^ also, they’re study buddies. def both practice their english on one another, but since madus an honors kids and toyas just Smart they work well together. mafu also helps come up with ways to help toya tutor akian bc she already does that with rando classmates

more canon divergencey, but their parents know each other (not in the same fashion as the aoyagi-tenma friendship…. asahinas more just keeping up terms to look good bc. aoyagis.) so the kids knew each other. they weren’t super close but they’d recognize one another

mafuyu running away at the end of mafu4 definitely gave toya food for thought on his own running away (that he would come back to tackle in toya4 sorry bud)

toyas the extroverted of the two technically. sure, mafu’s mask is even more extroverted, but generally toyas the upbeat one between them.

they like to just take the train around tokyo for the sights. they did it less as toya prepared for rad blast, but mafuyu def took him on a celebratory train ride at some point in congrats

mafuyu does not like most of vbs’ music (since akian wrote the music until roughly toya3, and even then i think they still did the brunt). mafuyu does like toya’s songs, tho

^ followup, toya follows 25ji. hes 50/50 most of the time (partially tastes partially instruments sometimes) but he supports them by leaving ridiculously long comments breaking everything down. hes become a well-known member of the 25ji fandom, accidentally.

more serious hc: toya does not, in any shape or form, “save” mafu. if they knew each other earlier, however, he definitely kept her from going over the edge. i can talk a LOT about this but thats a whole other rabbit trail.

mafuyu gets plushies from toya from the arcade. its usually rabbits, although the occasional cat or bird makes its way into the pile. there is an ever-growing pile of fluff in the corner of mafu’s room at kana’s. honami does Not Know what to do with it.

if they had a sekai together, it would be mafuyu’s fragment sekai but with like. the equivalent of a starbucks stuck in it. like the starbucks at a target or barnes&noble or whatever. mikuluka are their only vs, although they might get a len or kaito later on.

toya goes to miya to pick up kohane when an cant, but honestly goes to talk to mafu mostly. i mean hes there for kohane but sometimes koha has committee and so toya will just,,, talk with mafuyu. the rest of the school is VERY confused as to why this random kamikou guy is talking with asahina mafuyu, and then saki barrels him over one day screaming “OTOUTO!!!” at the top of her lungs and theyre like “oh hes a tenma okay”

this goes without saying but mafu doesnt mask around toya. she did for a bit, but toya saw through it bc it was annoyingly similar to akito’s own. toya Does Not like the mask. in any situation. he willingly chooses to extrovert most of the time than let mafu mask. its partially for his own sanity.

mafu teaches him to cook, and toya reteaches her tastes (partially stolen from that one akitoyamafu fic on ao3 love you)

mizuki constantly tells stories about them to the other, and they always listen with rapt attention. mizu thinks its cute in a way, and is also happy to have their full attention for once (not like toya wouldnt but)

toyamafu have no fashion sense. they just kinda throw something together thats vaguely coherent. akito was forced to band with mizuki to get them to actually match their clothes right.

mafuyu is more athletic than toya (not a high bar tbh) but toyas much more limber and flexible

[wsdanon]

Felpac Week AU Day: Dungeon Meshi AU \o/!!

hi guys \o/ just posting this one on tumblr for now. This is part of mine and @routeriver 's dungeon meshi au!! and for day six of @felpacweek \o/!!

it's quite honestly heavily based off a scene from the manga--a flashback of falin and marcille--but i have of course made sure to change it so it's consistent with felpac + qsmp. i'm kind of just taking the bones and building off of it

hope you enjoy, reblogs are appreciated \o/!!

Felps had asked him if he wanted to see something cool and—maybe against his better judgement—Pac had said yes. 

They’ve been adventuring together for a little bit now, anyway. If Felps really wanted to kill him, Pac’s sure him and Cellbit would’ve found a much easier way to do so down in the dungeons. 

So, he follows after Felps as Felps leads him through a forest. And tries very hard not to think about the fact Felps had taken his hand to do so. 

Felps is relaxed as he walks. Nothing tense in his posture at all, and a small smile on his face. 

Pac, however, probably looks like the living embodiment of anxiety. He’s being taken—alone—to an unknown place in the middle of a thick forest on the outskirts of town by someone who kind-of-maybe watched while his leg was eaten. And to top it all off—that person is hot and is holding his hand. 

Mike would laugh at him for the latter. Or chastise him for holding it to the same level of stress as the former. But he doesn’t get it. 

“Here.” Felps diverts from the path he was on and tugs Pac over to a bush filled with red berries. “Are you hungry?” 

“Are they—Are they even safe to eat?” 

Unfortunately, Felps lets go of his hand to pick a few. 

“Yeah, I think so.” He shrugs, and pops one into his mouth before offering his handful to Pac. “I mean—I’ve been eating them.”

“Um… okay.” 

Hesitantly, Pac takes one. He just holds it, though. 

“I’m not dead yet, right?” Felps jokes, before eating another. “I’ve eaten worse, probably.”

And Pac has, too. Probably. Assuming this isn’t poisonous. 

But him and Mike had to get creative while they were kids. And then again when they’d just escaped prison and didn’t have any money. 

As a sign of good faith, Pac eats the berry. And it’s worth the whole fearing for his life thing when Felps beams at him.

Felps takes his hand again and leads him back onto whatever path he was following before. 

“A few years back,” Felps starts anecdotally, “I got lost. So I had to eat cigarettes.”

“What?” 

Okay Pac doesn’t feel so good about eating the berry now. Not if that’s Felps’ measurement for whether something’s edible or not. 

“It was all I had on me!” Felps says—his voice rising in pitch a little as he tries to defend himself. “And it’s fine, see? I’m still alive. And I made it back to civilisation a few days later, so it wasn’t for long.”

“Felps, you—you don’t even smoke!”

A frown crawls onto Felps’ face, and he takes a moment to respond. 

“They’re good for bartering, you know?” 

Oh. Right. Pac had almost forgotten why he knows that Felps doesn’t smoke—cigarettes and the like were traded a lot throughout the prison. But even if Felps wasn’t bound to Cell, a pack of cigarettes wouldn’t have won him over. 

Although, Pac is sure he does other things. 

“Oh!” Felps speeds up a little, and Pac stumbles to adjust his pace to keep up. “We’re almost there!”

There turns out to be some hole at the bottom of a hill. Standing a metre or so away, Pac can’t quite see down into it. 

Felps lets go of his hand again to crouch by the opening, and Pac feels his heart rate spike.

“Felps!” He hisses. “What are you doing? It’s probably, like, a bear cave or something!”

Felps looks back at him, clearly amused. 

“It’s a dungeon. But only a small one—come take a look.” 

At Felps’ beckoning, Pac slowly inches closer. 

He’d say his self-preservation is usually better than this, but curiosity has always won out over it. That, or pretty faces. In this case there’s both, and Pac is helpless but to play the role of the cat—he can only hope the second half of the saying is relevant here, too. 

Pac crouches down next to Felps. The opening is certainly big enough for a bear—which means it’s easily big enough for both of them to crawl into. 

It’s not particularly dark in the dungeon. There must be some opening up the top allowing the sunlight to shine through a bit. There’s water throughout it, but definitely enough land to comfortably stand on—a small slope down from where they’re standing which turns into a patchy pathway leading to a large bit of ground in the middle. 

“Should we go in?” Pac asks. 

A small dungeon like this seems like it’d be perfect to study from. He’s only ever been in ones that are way more developed—which have a lot to offer in the way of learning, but these early steps are some of the most important ones, right?

“Sure.” Felps shrugs and sends him a smile. “I already have a few times.“

Still… despite his burning curiosity—despite how this could advance his theories—he hesitates. Felps is already ahead of him. He turns to look back at Pac. 

“It’s perfectly safe.” Felps assures him, holding his hand out for Pac to take. “There’s plenty of sunlight, you know? And we’ll be able to see if anything shows up. Just stick to the dry parts and you’ll be fine.”

Pac takes Felps’ hand, and lets himself be led down into the dungeon. 

It’s beautiful. Pac has always loved gardens. And while this is more mossy cave than garden, the air swarming with sparkling sprites certainly adds to the magic of the place—quite literally. 

Pac takes a moment to just stand there and soak it all in. It’s nothing compared to the absent hum of power from a grown dungeon, but it’s definitely something. 

“What do you do here?” Pac asks. 

“Oh, I just sit.” And when Pac turns to look at him, he already is. “And I nap sometimes. It’s a nice place for a nap.”

“I—Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

He should probably take samples. Of the water, and the dirt—anything he can get his hands on. They won’t be in town long enough for him to study it properly, so he’ll need to make sure he gets some of everything he could possibly need. 

Starting with the pond, he pulls a couple waterproof vials from his bag as he approaches. The water isn’t exactly crystal clear, but it’s not worryingly murky, either. 

The sunlight doesn’t quite reach it, but Pac thinks he can see enough to note a bit of a drop-off. Nothing too serious—just that even right by the edge he could probably submerge his hand up to his wrist. Which makes it a little more difficult to grab samples of whatever the waterbed is made up of. 

Mostly just because he’s a little worried about the consequences of sticking his whole hand into an unknown dungeon pond. 

But this is for science. And the science is for an important cause. 

He kneels down by the edge of the water and—

“Oh—My god!”

—throws himself back, fumbling for his staff. 

“What?”

“There’s a slime!” Pac throws an arm back blindly to protect Felps, and readies his staff to fire. “Stay back! I’ve been practising atta—“

“Woah, wait, Pac!” Felps tugs on his arm with the staff, effectively throwing off his aim. “Calm down! It won’t come into the sunlight, see?”

“What?” 

As Felps promises, the slime doesn’t advance. It curiously pokes at the edge of the sunlight before sinking back into the water. 

“Oh.” All of his tension drains out of him as the word does. 

And he feels a little silly for the overreaction. 

“Mhm, see?” Felps lets go of his arm, but urges him further away from the edge of the sunlight. “We’re safe here. It’s okay.”

“Right.” Pac laughs self consciously, face warm with embarrassment. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Felps’ face blanks for a moment, before he smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s sweet, you know? That you wanted to protect me.”

It sounds like he isn’t saying something. But Pac doesn’t want to think about that right now. 

It’s not like they haven’t all protected each other while adventuring, anyway. Felps’ magic in particular has saved them more times than Pac can count. Surely that makes up for… 

He’s not thinking about it. 

“Anytime, you know?” 

Maybe the wrong answer. Felps quickly turns his face away, looking towards the ceiling of the dungeon. He points up. 

“There’s bats up there.” Felps says. And sure enough—Pac can just see glimpses of them huddled together among the stalactites. “I think the slimes eat the bat shit—what’s it called? Guano?—and then they convert it into magical energy. It’s what keeps the dungeon alive.”

“Really?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” Felps shrugs, and throws an easy smile his way. This one seems a bit more normal. “I’m just guessing. Haven’t really been here long enough to know for sure, you know? But it makes sense, right?”

“It does.”

Felps sits down, and after a moment Pac does the same. Samples can wait. Maybe he just needs to sit for a bit—take it all in properly. 

There’s a whole ecosystem at play here. Pac had suspected that a little, of course, but this early dungeon—without all the bigger distractions—really highlights how much is interconnected. How intricate it all is.

The bats have to eat, too, after all. Maybe those berries Felps picked earlier. And for the bats to eat the berries, the berries have to be able to grow, which is probably its own whole mini-ecosystem.

Out of the corner of his eye, Felps shifts—lying down. 

“Wake me up when you’re ready to go, alright?”

“Okay.”

How did Felps even find this place?

Well… it is Felps. It’s not totally surprising. It probably doesn’t even have to do with his skill with magic—if anyone was going to stumble across a budding dungeon, it’d be him. That’s just the kind of person he is. Something about him invites this kind of stuff.

It’s been nice getting to know this side of him. It was there in prison, of course, just… suppressed. 

He smiles a lot more now. And not just when it’s only the two of them hiding away together. 

And Pac should probably tear his gaze away from Felps before Felps opens his eyes and catches him staring. 

He pulls his notebook from his bag and writes down what he’s already learned. Writes Felps’ theory, as well as his own. 

He has a long way to go before he can reach his goal, but this is a good next step.

--

hope you enjoyed \o/!! check out the ab.aeterno tag for more from both me and jaime \o/