#rosie the hen

[saephrond]

"— This curious, humble-sized hen, with feathers stained like the twilight sunset and the screams of a legion of Orcs, greets me in gentle purrs and fills my days with a joy that only such a cherished lil clucker can provide.

"Dumpling will attack my face in my sleep when she finds out I've been spending time with her sworn enemy - a chunky bird."

This is another beautiful work of art by @angbands-last-hero / @sewer-princess. Thank you a hundred times. You're spoiling me.

[revvethasmythh]

The way Veilguard approaches the concept of leadership is so interesting, actually. Because in previous installments, leadership is something that just happens to the main character. The Warden is volunteered for a leadership position by Alistair because he doesn't want it and also for the video game mechanic of "you are the main character." Hawke leads presumably out of sheer force of personality--how else could they hold all those disparate personalities together and actually get anything done? The Inquisitor is made leader due to the magical MacGuffin in their hand, but beyond naming what the Inquisition is for, little of their leadership technique is directly interrogated.

Rook essentially receives field command of the team after being Varric's second for half a year. The uncertainty of that is palpable. This is not someone who's meant to be in direct command, but finds themselves in that position anyway and the narrative is interrogating that. Thoroughly, even. Solas asking what their role here is, the way they have to mediate the group, multiple conversations about the actual mechanics of being a leader--it's very interesting, because previous protagonists unequivocally were leaders but this is the first time it really feels like I, as a player, have access to the levers that control what that leadership looks like. How someone tries to keep a crew functional and working together and make hard calls while trying to minimize the pain it will cause the rest of the team (and often failing at even that). It's a fledgling attempt at leadership in the worst possible moment and you can feel that. More than anything, it makes the Veilguard feel like an exploration of the work it actually takes to tie a crew like this together and make it possible for them to face world-ending odds, and I'm really enjoying the experience

[thatsrightice]

I just learned that sometimes the replacements would call Crosby and the other more experienced guys on base “old”, like Crosby is called “Old Croz”, And that just confirms for me that Crosby and Rosie are like the unofficial-official parents of the 100th bomb group flyboys.

Crosby is Mom or Ma, not like they’d ever intentionally call him that to his face. It probably started as a joke after one of the many times he blew up on a senior ranking official in defense of one of his boys, but the traits have always been there like:

Sees one of the boys getting sick and just walks up to them and puts a hand on their forehead to feel for a fever. If someone notices their friend is ill, they’ll immediately go get Croz and he’ll persuade them to sit the mission out. In fact, for most issues they’ll go to Croz because he’s smart and (usually) calm and always knows what to do

Knows everyone’s name but sometimes he’ll have to cycle through a couple before he gets the right one. If he’s super tired he’ll just be like: “whatever-your-name-is”

Visits the sick or wounded in the hospital no matter how minor the reason and he won’t shy away from holding their hand while they set bones and stuff. Sometimes he’ll bring a book and quietly read to a them

Works tirelessly planning the safest routes possible and briefs the navigators and bombardiers as thoroughly as he can

Rosie is obviously Dad, they probably call him Pa or Pops.

He’s the fun parent, leaving Croz to do a lot of the parenting. He just finds it hard to stay mad at them and often times lets them get away with nothing more than a warning

Where some of the guys in Group Ops try to distance themselves and not get too attached he fully commits himself to earning their trust. He wants to make sure they trust him both on the ground and in the air so that he knows they’ll follow him if he needs to make any last-minute decisions in the air

When one of the boys comes up to him asking for help shaving because they’d never had to back home, he gladly teaches them.

He is always reminding them to make good choices and it helps decrease accidents on base, just a little, because no one wants to disappoint him

Rosie is there by their side for just about every mission, especially the particularly difficult ones. Crosby will sometimes fly too, but if he’s not you can be assured that he’ll always be standing there on the control tower balcony anxiously waiting for his boys to return.

[eddiewithcat]

who wants to join me in thinking the reason buck was mr grumpy pants (before they even brought up the fact he died btw- man was just a little grumpy guy the whole time 😭) is because the first person they saw when eddie opened the door was rosie … so buck just automatically assumed that there was something going on with her and eddie and so he’s upset and jealous

(btw rosie is a lesbian to me and she is so lovely so Not a word about her please and thank you).

[folkloreandfable]

Serendipity･ﾟ✧

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x f!reader, Tags: Fluff Warnings: childbirth Synopsis: Just wholesome family fluff, no plot. A/N: I kept it very short.

The waning cresent rose high above clouds to cast silvery gleams into the Red Keep. As calm as the night may be, the princess’s chambers were certainly not. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tried taking the steady breaths the midwife instructed. It was a grave matter indeed, with her mother and the queen herself present to witness the birth of the Targaryen lineage. Her husband paced restlessly after being ousted, since such affairs were best facilitated by women. Also, he was being a meddlesome mother hen that questioned the midwives' every move. Slowly, the night began to move, the stars appeared and shallows gasps evolved to agonising screams. It took all for the young prince to not burst into the room again. And then it stopped. No screams, no gasps. It was all suffocatingly silent. The prince felt his blood begin running cold, and he stormed toward the chamber doors. Propriety be damned. Just as he opened the heavy oak, he heard a slap followed by piercing cries. Cries. There were two of them.

»»———-　˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀　———-««

The midday sun shone high in the rare clear blue skies though its incandesce dimmed in comparison to the beaming glow of the new family. The young mother smiled down at the blessings in her arms. A boy and a girl with dark hair, rosy cheeks and thick lashes that fluttered in content as they nursed from their mother. Hardly the image of Targaryen beauty, but they were in the image of the one she loved. The babes unlatched, tired from the strenuous task of being born and fell fast asleep to the gentle humming of their mother. As she rocked them, the chamber doors opened ever so slightly to reveal the peeking face of her husband. “Is it a good time to come in?” He whispered and the new mother couldn’t help but be amused by his caution, gesturing him in.

“I thought the meeting was to end at sundown?” She asks as he presses a kiss on her hair line before leaning down to kiss the babes. “I had more pressing matters,” Jace half smiled, taking a seat next to her on the bed and taking Visenya in his arms. “They look so much like me,” He proudly declared, causing his wife to scoff. “They just happen to have your hair colour and eyes.” “They have my nose too.” “The babes are barely a day old. They’re more like tubers with hair.” Jace clutched his chest with his free hand, feigning indignation. “You will not insult the heirs of house Targaryen so.” To which she rolled her eyes. “I carried them for eight moons and laboured for an entire night,” she retorted, playfully glaring at the twins. “Thus, their choice of countenance offends me even more.” This caused Jace to throw his head back in laughter before comfortingly wrapping his arms around hers shoulders. “Your time will come with our next ones.” “Maybe,” she rested her head against him, looking softly at their sleeping children. “But for now, I could not be more happy with what we have.”

Jace hummed in agreement, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“Our Lucerys and Visenya.

»»———-　˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀　———-««

Inbox: Open

[shotmrmiller]

You don't need anyone else but us.

TW: implied dub-con, drug usage.

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish x F!Reader

WC: 1.1K

A/N: Im biting my knuckles at the idea of you going on a date with this guy at some restaurant, and the bum slips some aphrodisiac into your drink :)

It started small, with symptoms so faint they were barely discernible. Fanning yourself with your hand, you hoped to keep the beads of sweat forming at the nape of your neck from ruining your perfectly coiffed hair. 

“Is it just me or is it hot in here?” you asked your date with a flustered, timid smile. 

“No, I feel fine, but you do look a bit rosy. You alright?” As you give him a reassuring nod, a striking hum passes through your body, like a raindrop rippling still water, and every wave shoots arousal straight to your core. 

He reached across the table to grasp at your wrist, bringing you closer to him so he could press a cool hand to your burning forehead. “You’re burning up, sweets. Maybe it’s time we take you home, hm?” You try to stammer out a response, but fire is pooling in your belly, making it hard to think. He quickly raises his hand, and gestures for the tab, then changes seats to be right next to you. “I’ve got you.” The fabric of his long sleeve grazes your uncovered back as he pulls you flush against him with his arm, and every shift of it scrapes at your nerve endings.

The pants that escape your mouth sound deafening in your ears, every twitch of your muscles amplified. It hurts, and even then, the edges of that pain are blurring, twisting into scalding pleasure. Your cheek feels the vibrations of his voice as your head rests in the hollow of his throat, and with the last of your lucidity, you catch the tail end of the conversation between your date and the server.

“— she’s had too much to drink, I’m afraid,” and through fogging vision, you observe as he hands the server the two wine glasses, remnants of red liquid at the bottom— but he had finished his wine and the rest of yours. “Have a good evening.”

He moves to get up, scooping you in his arms, and you’re powerless in your vulnerable state, body listless against his, like a puppet whose strings have been cut. Before you know it, you’re being practically carried out the door, frosty air nipping at your feverish skin. Your date bends his legs to hook his arm under your knees, and with a grunt, picks you up in a cradle carry. Head lulling on his chest, a pathetic whimper slips past your lips at the smell of him and his cologne that you had formally thought was overpowering.

“I know, sweets. We’re going to my flat, and I’ll take good care of you there.” But as he approaches his car, you’re abruptly wrenched from his arms, an unmistakable voice speaks up, tone harsh, severe. 

“She’s not goin’ anywhere with you.” Simon?

Simon gently lowers you onto your wobbly legs, allowing you to steady yourself against the car. The freezing surface of it stings, a raw sensation surges through your body, and a sibilant hiss escapes your mouth. 

Simon steps away, and Johnny takes his place, cupping your face. You let out a soft moan at the contrast of his chilly hands on your burning skin. “Hey,” he softly says, “you a’right?” Your peripheral vision catches a flurry of quick movements, making you instinctively turn your head, but Johnny’s hands exert a gentle force, keeping your head locked in position, fixated on him.

“Eyes on me, bonnie.” Johnny’s hands lower, trailing down to your neck, cool fingers enveloping your throat, and this time, you mewl. Loudly. “Och, I ken, i ken. We’ll be home in no time, hm? Simon’s just takin’ out the trash.” 

Johnny’s thumb traces soothing circles against your fluttering pulse, and you whine when you imagine those circles being drawn on your throbbing clit, how euphoric it would feel. Maybe it would assuage the liquid fire in your veins— satiate the need to be filled, stretched.

“A’right hen, we’re takin’ ye to my house, gotta keep an eye on ye.” Johnny lifts you into a side carry, effortlessly, as if you weighed nothing. “It’ll be over soon.” God, you hoped so.

Placing you on his bed, Johnny takes off your heels and sits by your side, holding your hand in his. “How ye doin’?” Blinking, you thickly swallow and realize that your mind is clearer than it was at the restaurant. “Better, I think.” 

Johnny hums, and turns to Simon. “Can ye get her a glass o’ water?” Simon looks at you, then flicks his gaze to Johnny, and slowly dips his head, before pivoting to leave. “Just rest, hen, I think that dunderheid spiked yer drink. I told ye he was nae good, but nae, the lass is grown, she can make her own decisions, hm?” Johnny reaches out to caress your sweaty forehead and drags his roughened knuckles across your cheekbone. 

With a gentle touch, you reach up and firmly press his hand against your cheek, nuzzling it, and holding his gaze. “I’m too dependent on you,” and Simon walks in, a glass of water in hand, and your eyes shift towards him, “the both of you. One day, you’ll both move on, and,” your voice trembles, choked with emotion, as tears gather in your eyes, “I’ll be left behind and—” Simon’s deep timbre voice cuts off your outburst with a stern tone. 

“Enough.” Johnny gives Simon a reprimanding look, and takes the glass, handing it to you. 

“What Simon means t’say, is that yer haverin’, hen. Go on, drink yer water. All of it, gotta rehydrate, a’right?” As you knocked back the cup, you remained oblivious to them sharing a meaningful look, and Simon giving an imperceivable nod, one that Johnny reciprocated. 

Carefully setting down the glass on the nightstand, you get cozy under the covers, breathing in his comforting scent, eyes sliding shut. Johnny pats your leg once and whispers, “Get some rest, hen. We’ll be outside, call if ye need anythin’.” A sluggish tip of your head is his only response, and without a sound, the two men exit the room.

Johnny casually rests his weight on the kitchen island, absentmindedly scratching his arm. “How’d ye get that bawbag to use the drug?” Simon shrugs nonchalantly, and says, “A little persuasion.” Johnny hums low, and after a pause, questions, “And how long will it take fer the drug in the water to take effect?” 

“I gave her room temperature water,” Simon chuckles, “I say 5 minutes, give o’ take.” 

In a matter of moments, the distinct sound of your high-pitched keens and mewls reached their ears, causing them to exchange a knowing look.“Heads er tails?” Johnny asks, his eyes gleaming mischievously. Simon removes his mask, running his fingers through his tousled hair, and states, “Tails and the winner gets to come in her first.” 

They shake on it. 

A/N: i was told to make a pt.II by my moot @rookiesbookies so I GUESS I WILL. set under the cbf! johnny x ghost au.

[fictionismyreality3]

Full to the Brim 18+

Warnings: romance and everything that comes with it, smut teehee I was just in a silly goofy gal mood today omg ! 🤪

Notes: johnny could stuff my turkey any day-

Something about seeing you all red cheeked and busy with your hair tied up, apron tied around your waist as you stirred over a pot on the stove.

Johnny hadn’t had a real thanksgiving since his mammy died a few years back. His siblings were too spread out, one sister in university, his other brothers off making a life for themselves, walking through parks and going to coffee shops or whatever people did.

And then there you were. Little lamb all rosy and plump, making such good meals for him, soothing his aches when he came home— let me get you a cup of tea, Johnny! Just sit down, kay? All soft, soft, soft.

Look at you, cooking a nice thanksgiving meal for him, huh? Working so hard. With an impish grin, he curled his body around yours, pulling you away from the stove by your hips.

“Johnny, I was-”

Tsk, tsk. “Y’can wait can’t ye, lass?”

Who cared about the turkey when had you sprawled out on the plush carpet, stuffing into you instead? The cum he wrung out of you, frothy and slick around the base of his cock, two of his fingers found their way into your mouth.

Peaking, the pleasure sizzled across your skin. “Can’t, can’t- f-fuck, too much.. S’too much!” Johnny crooned in your ear, mumbling praises. “I ken, I ken, cannae stop, hen. Look a’ you, so tight.”

Hips snapping into yours, jolting your body forwards by a few centimetres every time his cock hit the plug of your cervix. Ingraining his marks onto your heart.

Stuffing you.

[chronicowboy]

thinking about how buck and eddie don't reevalute every moment of their entire friendship individually when they each have their own oh moment but instead wait until they're together and then the first night they share a bed they don't sleep at all - for obvious reasons - but also because they stay up the whole night dissecting all these big and small moments of their friendship like my god we're disgusting. and STUPID. how did it take us this long? and of course they're them so there's real embarrassed lamenting about it all but there's also just so much giggling and playful teasing like baby i think that's the gayest thing you've ever done and you had my dick in your mouth earlier. they're best friends. anyway. the first time they go into work as a couple they fully intend on keeping a secret just to have something of their own for a little while but that morning they'd been discussing their particular brand of Blatant Homoeroticism over breakfast (after some morning delight) and so they're both super quiet for the start of the shift and acting very shifty until the others snap and they're like "WHAT is going on with you" and they both burst out with an apology to which the others are like "??? why??? are you guys like good????" and then they explain, speaking over each other of course, that they had no idea how gross and oblivious and in love they've been for the past 6 years and sorry that you had to put up with that on a day to day basis. and chim's like "ah it's okay, we kind of got desensitized to it after a—" but hen smacks him and jumps in with a "wait... does this mean..." and eddie goes all rosy cheeked with this beautiful little smile and nods all shyly meanwhile evan "i met a woman and her mother and didn't sleep with either of them" buckley bursts into his cheesiest grin and goes "we had SEX!!!!!!!!!!" and bobby excuses himself to go get paperwork because jesus christ and buck leans into hen to say "he made me see god" and chim looks to eddie, goes "didn't realise catholicism was sexually transmitted" but eddie's just there like "☺️buck kissed me☺️" and scene.

[megalony]

She's My Daughter

This is an Eddie Diaz imagine based on a few combined requests. I really had fun with this one and might do a few more parts if anyone would be up for it. Feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts

911 Masterlist

Summary: Eddie is ready to introduce his family to his team, but introductions go a little wrong when his wife has a seizure and his daughter crashes into the station... quite literally.

Enjoy.

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

"Is that a thing… bringing families to the station?" Eddie looked around the table of familiar faces, gauging their reactions to see if this was a joke or if Hen was actually being serious.

Eddie had done a lot of different, odd jobs since coming out of the army and none of those jobs had felt so much like a family as this one. He had never been that close to the people he worked with. Becoming a fire fighter and working in the 118 made Eddie feel like he had a proper family, not like the loose, estranged one he had back in Texas. He felt like he had a father in Bobby, a brother in Evan and another sister in Hen.

He stabbed a bit of pasta on his fork and waved it around his plate before he looked over at Bobby for confirmation.

"Yeah, families are always welcome here. We throw parties, barbeques and cookouts and everyone is invited. Do you have people you'd like to bring round?" Bobby leaned back in his chair with a gracious smile.

He tried to let all of his team know that family always came first. They were all welcome to bring their families to look round the station, meet the team and get to know everyone. They were all a family here and therefore Bobby wanted it to feel homely and for everyone to get along and know each other.

A gentle smile formed on Eddie's lips as he set down his fork and interlaced his fingers together beneath his chin.

"I uh, I'd like my family to meet you all, if that's okay?"

He had been working here for over three months now, it felt the right time to introduce his family to his team. They protected him at work every day, they had a right to meet the people they helped send him home to after every shift.

"Bring them for dinner one day this week."

"So, who are we meeting? You said you have a few sisters, right?" Evan reached out and patted his hand against Eddie's shoulder with a grin that started to morph into a confused frown when Eddie shook his head.

"I was thinking more about my wife and kids."

"You have kids?" Hen smiled, but she couldn't keep the surprise from her voice or stop her brows from arching up. Eddie never said anything about a family. He talked to Evan and opened up to him more than the rest of them, but he hadn't mentioned a family. They only knew he was married because of the wedding ring on his finger and Eddie didn't even talk about his wife to them so nobody asked.

"I have two girls and a boy." Eddie's face lit up into a grin at the thought of the four people he had waiting at home for him.

"How old?"

Chimney thought Eddie seemed the fatherly type. Whenever they were out on a call and kids were around, Eddie could always take charge. He talked to them in that soft voice and bent down to their level and seemed to understand whatever they were talking about or going through. But Chimney wouldn't have guessed he had so many kids.

"Bella's fourteen, Chris is nine and Rosie is only four months, we had her just after we moved to LA."

It had been a hectic time to decide to move away from Texas, but it had been the right thing to do. Eddie had a turbulent relationship with his parents, his dad had never really been involved in his life and as much as he loved his mother, she was overbearing.

It was hard when Eddie first came out of the army and had his parents around almost every day, acting as if he couldn't look after his two kids. Eddie brought up his sisters when he was a teen, he had been the man of the house while his dad worked away. He didn't want his parents on his doorstep everyday and everyone hovering around his kids or telling him his job wasn't right for him.

As for (Y/n), her relationship with her own mother was strained and she had no contact with her dad, so moving was a fresh start for everyone.

Eddie did his training for the fire department back in Texas, found the 118 and got his application all sorted and agreed before they moved. Three days into living in their new house in LA, Rosie decided she wanted to be born three weeks early so Eddie couldn't start with the department for a few extra weeks.

Now they were all settled into their home, the kids were settled at school and everything seemed to be slotting into place.

It was time Eddie introduced them to his work family.

***

Sinking back on his heels, Eddie swiped his bare arm against his temple and did a quick sweep around the truck. He tapped his fingers against his thighs and shuffled to lean over the side of the truck. He had fixed the ladder back into place and given the fire truck a quick clean while Hen worked on restocking the equipment in both the truck and the ambulance.

"Heads up, someone's got a clipboard handy."

Eddie pointed towards the stairs and gave Hen a certain, knowing look because he knew what was going to happen. She was going to argue with Evan because he was on one of his checklist rants. He was a menace with a clipboard and Hen lost her patience with him nine times out of ten.

He grinned at the way Hen sighed and planted her hands on her hips and silently shook his head with a raised brow.

Turning around, Eddie pushed up to his feet and slowly headed to the end of the truck towards the mini ladder to get back down.

"Excuse me… stop… stop!"

Eddie tilted his head up and glanced around, trying to locate Bobby when he heard his rather panicked voice. His eyes narrowed and his hands planted down on his hips as he stayed on top of the truck as his eyes landed on his captain.

Bobby was stood to the front of the station near the open shutters, holding both his hands out in front of him towards a car.

The car was juttering back and forth and whoever was driving had their foot on the gas pedal, reving the engine as if wanting to make an entrance and gain everybody's attention. But they weren't slowing down. The car jolted backwards, then surged forwards and sped through the shutters. No one was supposed to drive into the station. There was a car park round the back for staff when they arrived and a small car park at the front for any visitors or emergencies.

What on Earth was the driver doing?

Panic shot through Eddie's chest and his complexion paled when he leaned forward and narrowed his eyes at the number plate.

Oh God.

That was (Y/n)'s car.

"Fuck!" Eddie turned on his heels and clambered to the end of the truck, grabbing the handles of the ladder so he could slide down and jump down to his feet. His boots thudded against the floor and his knees jerked from the impact but he paid it no mind. "That's my wife's car!"

His feet moved faster than his mind could comprehend and he sped past Hen who followed hot on his heels. He weaved past the ambulance and moved towards Bobby who was stood in the middle of the station floor, his arms still out in front of him to try and stop the car from crashing into any equipment or the ambulance.

"Christ- (Y/n) stop the car!" What the Hell was she doing? Eddie tangled one hand in his hair as he held his breath. His wife wasn't a bad driver. She was quite a good driver considering she hadn't been driving for very long. She knew what she was doing and she knew not to drive into the middle of the station like this. She must be having some kind of emergency to be doing this.

Eddie's hand fell from his hair and he surged forward when the car juttered again and almost hit Bobby. And when Evan ran into the situation, he planted his hands down on the bonnet and hit it a few times to try and get her attention and make her stop.

A sudden burst of anger radiated through Eddie when he leaned down to look through the window. That wasn't his wife.

He got close enough to grab the handle and wrenched the door open, letting it swing far and wide before he leaned down and pushed into the car. His knees hit the chair and his shoulders pinned up against the roof as he leaned in the middle and yanked on the hand break to stop the car rolling backwards or surging forwards and running over his colleagues.

As quick as anything, Eddie unclipped the seatbelt before he wrapped his hand tightly around her arm and pulled back, yanking her out of the car with him.

"Isabella Diaz! What the Hell are you doing?!"

Eddie took a few steps back and pulled his eldest child along with him. His chest heaved and his lungs burned as he tried to take proper breaths but it felt like he was being suffocated.

His hands moved out to cup Bella's face and he tilted her head up so they were level and he could look her over. His eyes swept up and down her frame, looking for injuries or any signs of a problem or an issue. But all Eddie could see was her face turning a dark shade of red, her eyes puffing up and tears drenching down her face.

"That's uh… that's your wife?" Evan clamped his hands down on his hips but he frowned when Bobby hit him in the shoulder as a silent bid to tell him to be quiet. But Eddie was the one who said it was his wife's car coming into the station.

If that was his wife, then there were a few problems around here.

"Dad!" Bella moved her hands up to cup Eddie's wrists and took a second to try and catch her breath.

She had done it. She had gotten the car down to the station- the right station, where her dad would be. She had gotten them here in one piece and now she could get them to help her mum.

Fury bubbled up in Eddie's eyes when he looked over at Evan. He was starting to think of Evan as one of his closest friends. But he didn't think Evan would actually believe that this was his wife. As if he thought Eddie was some kind of weirdo who would go round marrying someone over half his age? What did he take him for?

"She's my daughter." He snapped back, somewhat rudely before his attention turned back to Bella and he started to smooth his thumbs beneath her eyes. He leaned down and pressed his forehead against hers, silently telling her to talk to him and explain.

"Mum- mum's had a seizure," Bella pulled on Eddie's hand and pointed into the car.

She watched the way his shoulders slumped and his face fell completely and his jaw slacked but he couldn't fathom what to say.

His hands left her face and he turned around and propelled himself around the car. His hand scraped against the bonnet to help guide him round and stop him from skidding as he nudged past Evan to get to the passenger side. He opened the door and crouched down beside the chair to look over his wife.

"Can someone get the kids out please?" Eddie's lips pursed when he glanced in the back and felt his heart dropping down to his stomach.

Chris and Rosie were in the back.

Bella had driven all the way here with the kids in the back and (Y/n) mostly unconscious in the front seat. She could have gotten them all killed. She didn't have a licence and she didn't know how to drive. Bella shouldn't have been on the road and if her parking in the station was anything to go by, she would have been a menace on the roads.

Hen mumbled a quiet 'Hi cutie' as she unclipped Rosie from her carrier and gently picked her up, shushing her when she began to scream her little head off. And Evan moved round behind Eddie and grinned down at Chris who had a teddy pinned to his chest and was rocking back and forth in a mixture of stimming and panic. He picked him up when Chris didn't object and moved to stand over beside Hen while Bobby moved to kneel behind Eddie.

"Baby… baby, you with me?" Pushing up, Eddie moved his hands to cup (Y/n)'s face and gently tilt her head from where it was slumped against the door frame and the seatbelt.

He pushed his thumbs against her cheekbones to try and stimulate her before he moved his hand round and pressed his fingers against her neck to check her pulse.

A light tremble was rattling through (Y/n)'s body that was pushing back into the seat and Eddie could see a trail of blood trickling down her lower lip towards her chin. She had bitten her lip or her tongue during the seizure enough to make it bleed.

Her eyes were closed and when Eddie pulled up her eyelid to try and check her pupils, he growled. Her eyes were rolled to the top of her head.

"I take it this is your wife? Is she epileptic?" Bobby rested one arm on the roof of the car and leaned in to try and take a look at (Y/n).

They were supposed to meet Eddie's family in three days, he was going to bring them down to the station for dinner so they could all be introduced and get to know each other. This was not the way Eddie wanted them all to meet and this wasn't the kind of situation he wanted his kids to be involved in. His daughter had been panicked enough to try and drive the car down here to get help.

"She was diagnosed four years ago, but she hasn't had a seizure in months. She has absent ones, not like this." The last seizure Eddie could remember (Y/n) having was when she was pregnant with Rosie and that had been a small one while they were at home in the evening. She hadn't suffered with them for a long while.

When she first got diagnosed, (Y/n) was having two or three absent seizures a week and the odd tonic seizure where she tensed up and jerked around. She had been put onto meds to stop them and her meds had been reduced last year because she was doing so well not having any.

"Alright baby, let's get you out." With one arm around her back, Eddie unclipped her belt and slipped his other hand beneath her knees.

He pulled back and shuffled (Y/n) into his arms, letting her head loll on his shoulder with Bobby's hands on her neck to try and keep her steady and stop any damage from happening. Eddie stood up and took a few quick steps away from the car and over near the ambulance before he went down on his knees and eased (Y/n) down to the floor.

He laid her down and knelt down behind her, resting her head and shoulders over his lap before he started to run his hands up and down her arms to try and stimulate her and bring her back around.

"I'll take the kids up to the kitchen, come on." Evan gently eased Rosie from Hen and into his own arms and moved his free hand against Chris's back. Gently urging him to walk with him. He would get Chris a drink in the kitchen and settle him in front of the tv to try and calm him down and let him know that everything was alright now.

"Is mum okay?"

Before she could stop herself, Bella curled her hand around Hen's upper arm and stood close to her side with her left arm wrapped tightly around her middle to try and calm herself down and make herself breathe better. She leaned her head on Hen's shoulder, unable to stop the tears from falling again.

She had done well not to cry or burst into sobs while she was driving down here. Bella had told herself to be stern and calm so she didn't crash and hurt her whole family. It had worked. But now she was here, safely where she wanted to be, she could feel herself starting to shake and her chest was tightening up.

"Amor what happened?" Eddie lifted his head to look over at his daughter who took a few daring steps forward with Hen who was comfortingly holding her wrist and smiling at her. "Why did you drive here? You could have called 911." He couldn't see why Bella would take the risk of driving down here instead of calling for an ambulance.

She could have asked them to inform Eddie of the situation or call him once she'd called for help. It seemed drastic for her to pack everyone into the car and drive down here when she didn't know how to drive and Bella had been adamant she never wanted to learn to drive. She thought it was too scary.

"We were driving and mum felt sick, s-she pulled over but when she got out… she collapsed on the pavement. She had a seizure and I panicked… I p- I got her in the car, we were only f-five minutes away so… so I drove."

Tears drenched Bella's face as she tucked herself more into Hen's side and coiled both her arms around her chest, swaying back and forth.

She didn't know what to do.

One moment, (Y/n) pulled over and got out the car saying she was going to be sick, but the next thing Bella knew, her mum was on the floor having a seizure. And not the kind of seizure she usually had. She was flailing about, jerking, hardly breathing and biting her lip so hard she was froffing blood. When it stopped, (Y/n) wasn't talking and she was barely moving.

Bella didn't want to call an ambulance and leave the car on the side of the road and have to get Chris and Rosie rammed into the back of a crowded ambulance. She knew her dad was only five minutes down the road and it seemed like an easy task to drive straight down the road and turn a corner and reach the station.

And it was an emergency. If someone pulled her over, she would still get help either way.

So she managed to hoist her mum up and help her flop into the car and she did her best to drive down here while her mum had another seizure on the way.

All she wanted was Eddie.

"Cap…" Hen looked between Bobby and Bella until he got the silent message and nodded. They needed to switch places so Hen could help Eddie get (Y/n) stabalised and sorted out and someone needed to stay with Bella and calm her down.

Hen gently eased herself from Bella's side when Bobby walked over and curled his arm around her shoulder to try and give her some comfort. But just as Hen reached into the ambulance and grabbed her medic bag, she froze when Bella cried out and a few Spanish profanities slipped past Eddie's lips.

Eddie's hands moved to hold (Y/n)'s shoulders and he shuffled back before he tried to turn her over. He eased her onto her left side and knelt behind her with one hand cupping the back of her neck and his other hand lightly rubbing up and down her arm. She was going into another seizure. He kept her head tilted forward, Eddie didn't want to risk (Y/n) biting down again and choking on her tongue or on the blood welling up in her mouth.

"Alright, I've got you baby, it's okay." Eddie pressed his knees into her back to keep her kept on her side while Hen knelt down in front of her with her medic bag at her side.

While Hem rummaged around for some meds in the bag, Eddie swiped the stethoscope which he tucked into his ears and carefully pressed down between (Y/n)'s shoulders to listen to her breathing. He then curled his chest over her arm and pressed it beneath her shirt to listen to her heartbeat.

"Breathing's good, heart sounds fine."

"Pushing diazepam,"

Eddie gripped (Y/n)'s upper arm and tried to hold her trembling limb steady so Hen could inject the diazepam into her shoulder. It was the safest palce to administer meds when the rest of her body was violently jerking back and forth. And (Y/n) was already bleeding from the mouth, they couldn't administer any emergency tablets under her tongue right now. This was the next best option to try and stop the seizure and spasms.

"Dad…" Bella tried to run forward but Bobby reacted faster. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest, almost lifting her from her feet to stop her from reaching her parents. It wasn't safe for her to try and get involved. (Y/n) was being looked after.

Eddie lifted his head and tightened his hands over (Y/n)'s arm and neck when his eyes locked with his daughter who was almost the double of his wife.

"Carino stay with Bobby. It's okay." Eddie nodded his head until Bella stopped writhing in Bobby's hold and settled down. He didn't want her getting distressed either or trying to bustle over here. She needed to stay there, safe and out the way.

"It's working, she's calming down." Hen found a saline bag and the necessary needles in the medic bag and placed them by her thigh, ready to give to (Y/n) when the spasms fully wore off. The last thing she needed was to try and push an IV into (Y/n)'s hand and have her go back into another seizure and rupture a vein.

"She's gonna be sick."

Eddie reached his arm out and pressed his hand into Hen's shoulder, trying to nudge her to the right to get her out the way.

He moved his hands back to (Y/n) and tilted her chin down, keeping his fingers curled around her neck to keep her head down so she didn't choke. While he brushed her hair behind her ear and reached down to cup her wrist and pull her hand back.

He could see the way her stomach was tensing and sucking inwards and her chest was pushing forward instead of convulsing.

"Let it out, baby. Good girl," He leaned over to kiss her shoulder and slipped his hand from her wrist to grip her hand. Both he and Hen watched her chest closely and made sure she was still breathing and not choking.

A wave of relief tremored through Eddie when he felt (Y/n)'s fingers twitch against his hand and her arm suddenly jerked out. She coiled her arm to her chest, pulling Eddie's arm along with her which made his chest press down into her shoulder so he could curve around her.

Her knees tensed and kicked back and forth in an attempt to try and bring her knees up to her stomach. A burning gasp mixed with a cry vibrated past (Y/n)'s lips and her temple bashed into the floor when she tried to turn her head and press her face down into the floor.

With a deep breath, Eddie inched himself backwards and gently scuffed (Y/n) along with him to get her away from the puddle of sick. He let go of her hand and moved his arm around her waist and with his other hand against the back of her head, Eddie gently lifted her up. He reeled her up and let her flop back into his chest with a thump. Her head lolled into the crook of his neck and her temple pressed into his chin with a groan.

While she started to take deep breaths and murmur incoherent noises against Eddie's neck, Hen reached out and pulled her hand onto her thigh. She quickly slipped the needle into her vein and capped the IV in, keeping the tube wide open to let as much saline flow through her veins as possible. The seizures would have taken a toll on (Y/n) and they needed to boost her levels back up and get her back to normal again.

"It's alright baby… are you back with me now, hm?" Eddie kissed her temple and kept one hand pressing down on her stomach while the other hand feathered up and down her arm.

(Y/n) turned her head from left to right, wincing and whining when Hen pulled her eyelid up and flashed a light across her pupils. At least her eyes were now back down and looking ahead instead of rolled up to the back of her skull.

"Eddie,"

A spasm rolled through (Y/n) and sent her right side jerking out with her foot scraping the floor, her leg jostling from side to side and her right arm bashed down into her chest making her cry out. It was like the last waves of electricity were rolling through her on their way out of her system.

She could feel sparks flying down to her toes and her fingertips had gone stiff like they were turning to stone.

The feeling of Eddie's lips pressing into the side of her head was comforting and his hands were squeezing her skin with his arms wrapped around her like a security blanket. But (Y/n) couldn't work out why Eddie was holding her. Why was he here? When did he get here? What were they doing?

"Yeah, it's me baby."

"Home?"

"Home? No, you're not going home mi amor." Eddie sighed into her hair and smothered the top of her head with his lips as he tightened his arms around her waist.

There was no way he was taking her back home. He had to take her down to the hospital along with the kids to get her checked out before he even thought about taking her home.

"Home… you- you're home," (Y/n) tried to keep her eyes open but everything was so bright she wished the world would shut down and turn pitch black. Her face pressed as deeply into Eddie's neck as she could until she was almost smothering herself and she could feel very bob of his Adam's apple and each harsh breath he took.

"You're not at home, baby… you're at the station. You were driving, you and the kids, in the car…?" Eddie wasn't used to (Y/n) being this confused after a seizure. But then again, she'd had about three of them in the last hour from what Bella had told them. She was bound to be confused and agitated and scared.

He could feel (Y/n) shaking her head into his neck, she didn't believe or understand what he was telling her and he knew it was pointless to try and talk her through it now.

(Y/n) could barely see a thing when she managed to keep her eyes open for longer than a few seconds. She tightened her right hand around Eddie's palm but when she moved her left hand to try and reach up to hold onto him, something caught her eye. Her blurred vision tried to focus on her hand and her lips curled into a frown when she noticed a pastel white and leaf green plastic cap in the back of her hand, connected to a thin tube.

Whatever that was, (Y/n) didn't want it.

Her hand let go of Eddie's palm and before he could ask what she was doing, (Y/n) huffed and scratched off the cap in her hand.

"Oow," Tears stung in the corners of her eyes and she whimpered when her left hand started to spasm and a trickle of blood started oozing down and slithering between her fingers.

"Baby!" Eddie scolded through clenched teeth. "No- no, stop. Baby let me fix it, okay?"

Eddie perched his chin on (Y/n)'s right shoulder and wrapped his right arm around her chest, pinning her arm between them so she couldn't fight him or try and stop him from patching up her hand. He held her left wrist in both hands and pushed his chin down into her shoulder both to comfort her and make her stop wriggling.

He held her hand out towards Hen who was quick to run a swab over her hand to clean the blood before she carefully pushed the needle back into her hand and connected the tube back up.

"Bandage it please." Eddie whispered quietly, relieved when Hen smiled and grabbed a small roll of bandage.

Eddie had had this fight hundreds of times when (Y/n) was admitted to the hospital. Especially after she gave birth. She never wanted the canula in and always tried to take it out until Eddie bandaged her hand up so she couldn't see or touch it.

"Mum?" Bella pushed forward when Bobby let her out of his hold and allowed her to rush over and kneel down beside Hen.

She reached her hands out and wrapped her arms around both her mum and her dad, wedging (Y/n) between them in a hug. She tucked her face into (Y/n)'s neck, unable to stop crying when she felt her mum kiss her temple and try to hold her hand.

"Bella, wait here for a minute please while I move your mum." Eddie curled his fingers in the back of her hair and kissed her temple before he motioned for her to shuffle back a bit. He slipped his arms back around (Y/n)'s back and beneath her knees to pick her back up, relieved that she could seemingly move again. She hooked an arm around his neck and closed her eyes, tucking her face into his chest as he aimed for the ambulance.

Eddie knew the moment (Y/n) woke up properly and became aware of where she was and what was happening, she would kick off. She didn't like hospitals and she wouldn't want to be in an ambulance, but he had to get her to hospital. And he wanted to at least lay her on the gurney so she could start to come back round properly.

"I'll be two minutes, baby, I'm just gonna get the kids. This is Hen, she'll wait with you."

Once (Y/n) was laid on the gurney, Eddie kissed her temple and brushed his thumb over her cheek. He had a feeling she would pass out and have a nap, she didn't look like she could stay awake for much longer and he wouldn't blame her. It would be easier to transport her if she went to sleep for a while.

He patted Hen's shoulder, whispering a quiet 'thank you' in her ear before he climbed down and moved over towards Bella who was stood off to the side. both arms cocooned around her chest that was trembling and tears were flushed down her face.

The moment he was within reach, Bella tangled her arms around his torso and buried herself into his chest. He could feel her tears soaking into his shirt and each quiet sniffle she let out as she trembled so much she made Eddie start to shake back and forth. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tangled his other hand in her hair, cupping the back of her head while he leaned down to kiss her temple.

"Shh, it's alright carino."

"I- I'm sorry… I'm sorry daddy-"

"It's okay." Pulling back, Eddie moved his hands to cup her face so he could tilt her head up while his thumbs swiped away the tears tracing down her face. "I'm not mad, I swear."

"But… but the car…"

"I don't want you driving the car again, I mean it. But I'm not mad, you panicked and you came straight here, you got help. But next time, you don't try and drive the car with the kids in the back. You call an ambulance and then call me and I'll always come get you. Okay?"

There was no way that Eddie could be mad at her. She had been in a stressful situation and in her panic, she made a decision. It might not have been the right decision in the long run, but she had gone along with it and got everyone here in one piece. She brought (Y/n) somewhere safe and got her help and everyone was okay which was the main thing.

But if something like this ever happened again, Eddie needed Bella to call for help rather than take it into her own hands to find help herself.

She could have gotten herself into serious trouble if someone reported her or witnessed her or if she crashed. She could have made everything worse if she crashed the car with her unconscious mum and younger siblings in the car with her.

Eddie was going to be having nightmares about this for weeks, he could feel it.

"Okay," Bella nodded frantically before she pushed forward and tucked herself back into Eddie's chest, binding them both together like she was never going to let him go. Her arms stayed tightly bound to him until he held her shoulders and gently nudged her back so he could turn towards Evan who was walking their way with Rosie in his arms and Chris by his side.

"Everyone okay now?"

Eddie sighed through a smile and nodded his head, leaning forward to kiss Rosie's forehead before he reached over for Chris and picked him up. He kissed Chris's cheek and sat him on his hip although he could still feel Bella stood close to his side with her hands wrapped around his arm.

"Mummy okay?"

"She's fine, buddy. We're gonna take her down to the hospital though to get checked over, okay?" Eddie leaned back and took a glance over his shoulder towards the ambulance. He could guess that since (Y/n) wasn't arguing or shouting or crying out for him that she had indeed fallen asleep.

He could get Bella to ride in the ambulance with (Y/n) and the team while he took Chris and Rosie in (Y/n)'s car and followed behind them.

"Bell went through a red light," Chris leaned his head on Eddie's shoulder and grinned when Bella reached her hand out and lightly tapped his arm before she pressed her finger to her lips.

Her head tilted down and her eyes stayed on the floor when she felt her dad's piercing gaze fall on her and she could feel his elbow jutting into her side when he clamped his free hand down on his hip.

"Did she now?"

Lifting her gaze, Bella tried to smile but when she looked across at Evan, he was grinning at her and silently gave her a thumbs up with his hand hidden at his side so Eddie wouldn't see. "You said you're not mad at me," She whispered sheepishly, to which Eddie hummed with pursed lips.

He couldn't tell her off when he'd already explained he wasn't ngry and he knew she had acted out of panic. He just had to pray that within the next week, he wouldn't get any phone calls or letters to the house saying he had a traffic ticket for going through a red light or being caught speeding.

The only upside was that if that happened, Eddie could have a word with Bobby. He knew his captain would gladly talk to Athena and anyone else at the station to explain what had happened. They couldn't exactly charge Bella with anything when it was an emergency situation and she had done the right thing.

But Eddie's brows narrowed his chest tightened when he felt Chris lean up and whisper in his ear, "Bell hit a lamp post too."

"Isabella!"

[sobbingscripter]

DAY 3: Three French Hens

☃️Candy Cane☃️

Tags: [mlw][aged up][reader has an aggressive crush][oral (m receiving)][boot grinding][spit][sloppy][semi-public]

❄️☃️❄️

"What that mouth do?"

Inumaki isn't sure if you're talking to him but your eyes are focused on his form, head tilted like you're sizing up prey and his eyes widen, but he doesn't look at you.

Amethyst eyes avoid your gaze, trained on the assorted Christmas candies in his hands, the lower half of his face hidden by the collar of hi uniform and he just looks so...

Subby.

Picking at the wrappers of candies, seated on the park bench beside you, trying to absentmindedly ignore you but to no avail. You've spoken to him a few times, on missions. Enough for him to know that you're teasing him when you ask him that.

Almost shyly, a gloved hand holds out a candy cane towards you, a sweet treat and he stares at you, puppy dog eyes in full effect. You gingerly take the candy, unwrapping it and popping the end into your mouth, the hook remaining poking out from your plush lips.

Inumaki watches with an intense stare, watches your cheeks hollow ever so slightly as you suck on the candy, eyes locked on the frozen lake, watching as snowflakes tumble downwards and continue to blanket the grass beneath your feet.

He looks at your nose. The tip of it reddened by the frosty weather, your rosy cheeks and the hot puffs of breath that leaves your lips.

He could warm your nose for you.

And you learn that when 15 minutes later, he has his hand fisted in your hair, thick cock forcing it's way down your throat and your nose is pressed against that silky tuft just above his pelvic bone.

You nearly choke, hands resting on his broad thighs, nails clawing at the fabric of his pants and he lifts his free hand, biting the tip of his gloved middle finger and roughly tugging the glove from his hand.

The cotton tumbles to the tiled floor of the public bathroom stall, but you're too preoccupied when you feel either of his hands, icy tipped fingers sinking into the hair at your temples before fisting in the strands.

He forces his cock deeper, until your eyes are watering and you're sputtering messily, globs of spit wetting your chin and dripping onto his skin.

Amethyst eyes roll back in his head, a low groan falling from his lips, those markings on either side of his mouth are a perfect contrast against his porcelain skin, flushed rosy from pleasure.

And he looks down at you with hazy vision, lashes fluttering and he pulls you away, watching as you cough, thick rivulets of spit landing on his lengthy cock, making it glisten in the low light of the stall.

Your eyes are tearing, as you look up at him, your hands wrapping around his cock and stroking him, and you can barely moan when he's got the toe of his boot pressed against your crotch, the firm pressure against your clit making your brain even hazier.

"Oh shit..." You whine quietly, lashes fluttering and you wrap your spit-slickened lips around him once again, tongue flicking against the sensitive frenulum and Inumaki let's out a shuddering breath.

Before one hand wraps around his base, lightly tapping his precum and spit shined cock against your chin, your cheeks, your outstretched tongue waiting for him to force himself back into your throat.

You let out a choked sob once your hips start to rock, desperately seeking friction from his rough laces and the leather of his boot, eyes locked on his face.

Inumaki's brows twitch when your tongue drags along the slit in his cock, lips parting and letting out a low groan, brows creasing into a furrowing frown and he nods his head.

'Keep doing that.'

You don't need to understand his sushi language to know what he wants, and you keep teasing his tip, eyes on his face when you pull away and spit on it, and he leans forward, a hand roughly grasping your chin and he lowers his head, lips nearly ghosting over yours before he murmurs, low and soft.

"Open."

Your mouth opens, tongue out like a thirsty dog and he sticks out his tongue, and you watch. Tentatively, your hips stuttering as you watch as spit slides down the middle of his tongue, over that marking and drops onto your own awaiting, wet muscle.

You revel in the taste.

He tastes like candy canes. Peppermint and sugary, and you hum, lashes fluttering as you swallow.

"Say, 'thank you, Master'."

The words leave your lips before you can give a snide remark, but you can't even be bothered to care. Not when he's forcing his pretty cock down your wet and warm throat, hips bucking and his hands keep you in place, booted foot rubbing against your folds through the fabric of your panties.

Your clit occasionally catching on that intricate star formed by his laces and you moan each time and Inumaki let's out a whimper-y breath, high pitched but still so soft as rain.

"Don't waste it."

You don't register what he means until hot spurts of cum are painting the inside of your throat a pretty pearlescent colour and you choke, but you don't pull away, relaxing your throat and continuing to buck your hips, eager for a release that's far too far away to reach right now.

When Inumaki lifts your head, his cock falls from your lips with a wet 'pop' sound, and he drags a pudgy thumb along your swollen and messy bottom lip, smearing the mess along your chin.

You pant, eager to catch your breath and Inumaki simply slides a bit lower, thighs parting wider and he leans back against the cistern, eyes on you.

"Sit on it."

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Absolutely loved When the Rooster Misses the Dawn. Do you plan to write more? Maybe a morning after scene?

Eh, why not. This one isn't quite as fun, and it is considerably longer because they led me down a slightly more angsty road. I felt like there needed to be some kind of aftermath/consequences of Gale listening at their door. But it is from Peeta and Katniss's pov's so you get to read some absolutely unhinged, down bad for his wife Peeta thoughts, if that's your thing. And it does contain Everlark sexy times and a happy ending for them (duh). Part one is here.

RATED M: for sexual content and discussions of miscarriage.

***

The Hen Tarries in Her Bed

There existed very few temptations great enough to induce Peeta Lucian Mellark, accidental Earl of Baecare, fourth in his father’s line to hold the title, to linger in bed past the rising of the sun. 

Whether they were the intended heir or not, the late Lady Mellark had demanded a certain level of industry in each of her three sons. Peeta, as the youngest, was no exception, and his body retained the training of early rising and hard work, even after the school yard incident that led to his injury. Even after his mother had passed from the world along with his father and brothers, and Peeta had inherited the title, the fortune, the lands, and all of the privileges that came with such trappings, he could never sleep past the dawn.

But his wife… ah she certainly presented the greatest temptation of them all. 

He smiled at the sight of Katniss, still slumbering in her bed. He left her to see to his morning needs, but the soft, pale glow of a lovely spring morning had begun to spread across the sky, making her appear awash with starlight, even as the stars faded from view. He found that he could not resist such a delicious temptation, even though he knew that he should. He had business to see to, and she would undoubtedly be sore after the previous night’s delights.

But in truth, had Peeta ever managed to resist her? He had not.

He discarded the dressing robe and slippers he had donned, and instead of beginning the day’s work, he slipped back beneath the covers, finding the area he had vacated still warm with his own heat. He sighed, content. Carefully, so as to not wake her just yet, he drew his body close to hers and wrapped his arm securely around her. Nestling his face in her riotously messy hair, he smiled and savored her soft sigh, the movements of her body that brought her closer to him, even in her sleep.

He, however, could not sleep, so instead he watched the dawn paint the sky in rosy tones. He caressed Katniss’s still naked form and attempted to reign in his reawakened desire for her. Granted, he did not think he could deem it reawakened. His love for her had never slumbered, and neither had his desire. He’d merely had cause sufficient enough these past few months to firmly control himself where his wife was concerned.

Perhaps his mother’s strict training had at last worked to achieve the desired effect of nobility, beyond Peeta’s inability to tarry in bed. The late Lady Mellark refused to allow any of her sons flights of passion or fancy to the point that Peeta’s brother’s often joked that they resided in a monastery, not an estate, although Peeta knew both of his older brothers had engaged with lovers while away at school. In Peeta’s case, there existed reasons why lovers were more difficult to secure, and he sometimes feared that such austerity in his upbringing caused him to completely lack control once he discovered the abundant bliss to be found in his marriage bed with Katniss.

Likely, his mother would not have approved of his marriage to Katniss at all, had she lived, and certainly not if he still somehow inherited the title, but Peeta had not cared. Not in the end. 

Katniss had claimed his attention nearly from their first meeting, and although he did try to court other potential brides whom his mother and father would have considered to be far more suitable candidates for the next countess, Peeta’s heart was not in the pursuit of their hands. 

He felt himself continually drawn back to Miss Everdeen’s side, attracted to her wit and her willingness to tease him and verbally spar with him as they stood on the fringes of ballrooms. Or when they would meet in the park, both on horseback, and together avoided the need to converse with society at large, preferring the quiet company of one another. They often met on the streets, usually while shopping for a book, and they quickly fell into a friendship through discussing one tome or another, recommending a book the other had yet to read. She expressed an interest in his art when he mentioned his feeble attempts at painting when they met in the galleries one afternoon, although he waited until after they were betrothed to fully share that aspect of himself with her.

He appreciated the way in which she showed concern for his health, often slowing her steps and finding interesting sights to give him time to rest, but somehow she still refused to treat him as an invalid.

She claimed that she hated to be the center of any form of attention and everyone seemed intent on determining if she were a ruthless fortune hunter or an heiress, so she preferred to appease her guardians with appearances at balls and other society functions, but had no intentions of pursuing a husband at all. She had far more interest in the food being served than in the gentlemen seeking her attention, and so Peeta had gladly secured refreshments for her whenever she desired at one event after another.

Yet he knew it to be an entirely futile endeavor, courting Miss Everdeen. Peeta… well he did intend to marry. As an earl, it was expected of him, but he despised the manner in which young ladies saw his injury as a sort of obstacle worth their endurance if it secured for them his title and fortune. Furthermore, he knew many of the young ladies viewed him as a desirable husband, solely due to the fortune and title, but as an entirely unsuitable and unromantic suitor, since his leg limited his desire to engage in many of the very basic courtship requirements -- namely… dancing.

Until that fateful night when he had noticed Katniss attempting to politely refuse the request of a dance from a gentleman of questionable honor. Peeta had stepped in and falsely declared that his own name was on her dance card for the next set and apologized for his tardiness in escorting her to the floor.

He could not ascertain from her expression if she were furious or relieved or indifferent to his interference, yet she had not hesitated in resting her gloved hand on his proffered arm and following him out to the floor. They had stumbled, quite awkwardly, through one dance and a half before Peeta’s leg demanded that he cease such foolishness. His pride smarted fiercely, far worse than the pain in his leg, as he excused himself before the set ended, humiliated at his own weaknesses and furious with himself that he must humiliate her in such a manner, abandoning her partnerless on the floor.

Better that than continuing to humiliate her with his clumsy dancing, he had reasoned as he leaned heavily on his cane and made his escape.

Peeta had escaped the crowded ballroom into the garden and limped as quickly as he could manage to a secluded spot in the hedges and collapsed on a stone bench. He’d barely caught his breath, and then she was there. Angry, yes, but not for the reasons he had suspected.

And the kiss.

Oh the way she had kissed him that night. Peeta supposes he ought to have been shocked by her forward behavior, but even then, he could not bring himself to deny her. He had indulged in the kisses, aching and greedy and hopeful. He had pursued more kisses, drunk and lightheaded with love and desire for her. Convinced that this encounter would be his only hope for a passionate interlude.

She did not wish to marry and he must. How could he expect anything but a cold, impersonal marriage bed from any of the young girls sniffing after him for title and fortune but who cared not to know who he was as a man. Especially after he knew Katniss’s kiss. Knew the heat and warmth of her fire. Knew the heady tonic of her regard for him. Perhaps she did not love him, but he knew that she respected him. They were at the very least friends. And he was already hopelessly in love with her, he knew. It would be impossible for him to refrain from comparing every kiss in his future to this one.

Of course, they had been discovered. Thankfully, it had been before Peeta’s self control slipped so much as to completely ruin her, although it had been a near thing. 

It had been Katniss's sponsor in town who discovered them in such an amorous embrace. The rather intimidating Mr. Haymitch Abernathy, whose suddenly gained fortune remained cloaked in mystery and dark rumors as to the source. It mattered not. Her sponsor saw her into her mother’s arms and then returned to Peeta. He had only to assure Mr. Abernathy that he fully intended to call on Miss Everdeen in the morning and request the honor of her hand in order to avoid a duel, although Mr. Abernathy’s words that it would take some convincing on Peeta’s part to secure the lady’s agreement kept him awake well into the morning.

He hated that he must ask her to go against her own wishes. He hated that he must ask for her hand when she had no desire to marry. But nor could he bear to be the reason for a stain on her reputation, or that of her sister’s by proxy. He hated himself for knowing that if nothing else, the threat to Miss Primrose’s reputation would likely induce Katniss to accept him. 

He tossed and turned for long hours, despising himself for allowing himself to become swept away in the moment and ignoring Katniss’s clearly stated desires.

Still, Peeta had woken before dawn and called at the Abernathy house at the earliest hour that would not be considered rude. Surprisingly, it had required very little persuasion to secure Katniss’s agreement. She asked merely a few inconsequential favors of Peeta that he would have seen to anyway. As her husband, of course he would provide a home, security, funds, and comfort for her mother and sister. She hadn’t even needed to ask, but those were her meager requests in exchange for her hand.

During the weeks leading up to their wedding, Peeta could not determine what Katniss might be feeling. She did not act the ecstatic, besotted bride, but neither did she eschew his company. They continued on much as they had before the kiss.

Except that it continued to happen. Whenever he found himself alone with Katniss and any modicum of privacy, they could not seem to resist one another. He began to doubt the entire thing. He wondered if Katniss kissed him so frequently and fervently so as to secure their marriage. Perhaps he had read her intentions entirely wrong. Perhaps he knew nothing about her at all. And so Peeta braced himself for a rude awakening once they were married. 

An awakening that never materialized.

Every night, during the early days of their marriage, he went to her bed expecting an indifferent and dutiful wife, submitting to his carnal desires only out of a sense of obligation for the security and financial care he gave to her family. Instead, he had found Katniss not only willing but almost forceful in her own carnal demands, and he was helpless to resist such a temptation. Even the flimsiest of beliefs that he might be wanted rather than merely tolerated overwhelmed everything else.

Even when Peeta knew her to be tired or homesick for her family, the moment Katniss kissed him and pulled him into her bed, he lost all sense of decency or consideration. Her lips on his always seemed to create a lapse in his decorum. Not that Katniss ever seemed reluctant in their lovemaking. Quite the opposite. But after every night of vigorous, prolonged intercourse, Peeta always feared that he had become some sort of mad beast. Uncontrolled and unable to stop, even past the point when he knew his love would become exhausted, past the point when he knew she would face soreness, aching muscles, and perhaps other ailments the following day.

Every morning that he woke beside her, his memories of the previous night stoking his desire awake again, he braced himself for a cold rebuff of his advances that never came. Again, quite the opposite. They made love in the morning nearly as frequently as they did at night. 

Eventually, he began to hope that she might love him.

And then the babe. 

He had, of course, been elated when Katniss had informed him merely three months into their marriage that she was with child. For a time, they had shared a blissful happiness. He could scarcely believe that he might have so many of his heart’s desires. But providence did not see fit to allow them to continue in their bliss.

There was his own bitter disappointment at the loss of their child, but Katniss bore it far harder than he. Peeta struggled with his feelings of helplessness. He could do no more than hold her and soothe her, love her as best he could, and withhold himself from her bed for as long as possible.

At first, such restraint had been easy. Her body would not allow it. As she began to heal in body, she asked him to sleep beside her again, for comfort. He had agreed, but within days, Katniss made several frantic, tearful attempts to seduce him. His body proved more than willing, but his mind thankfully managed to win the battle. She was not ready. Not if she were sobbing as she issued the invitation into her bed.

She could not bear it, she sobbed into his chest night after night. She could not bear the loss.

Heartbroken and fearful for both of their sanity, Peeta attempted a new approach. He held her on the settee in her chambers, until she fell into slumber, and then he would carry her to her bed, leaving her there alone and retreating to his own. The first month of that had been torture. The cold way she would greet him in the mornings, both of them fully dressed and pale with lack of sleep, gutted him. He nearly caved when the doctor announced her body ready to bear the strain of intercourse, ready to bear another child.

The pronouncement came the same day as a letter from her childhood friend, Colonel Gale Albert Hawthorne, announcing his intention to visit them. As she relayed the news to her husband, Katniss had smiled. It was the first spark of real happiness Peeta had seen in her since the babe had been lost.

In response, Peeta did what any sensible man would do. He had gotten himself drunk for the first time in his life that night and locked himself in his study, fearful of what he might do if he went anywhere near his wife’s bed.

In the morning, jealousy and despair and alcohol still warred within him. Until he woke to find his wife sleeping on the sofa, her arm stretched over the edge and her hand clasped around his as he slept on the floor. He had expected that at last, with the man she could have married set to visit them, Katniss would see Peeta as he truly was. Worthless.

Instead, Katniss had begun a campaign of seduction, conceived with near military precision to attack Peeta’s weaknesses and defenses. The only reasons Peeta had managed to resist her at all was owing to the moments of obvious, deep grieving Katniss still displayed, and his awareness that once she saw her undoubtedly dashing, frighteningly capable, military friend again, she may very well decide Peeta was no longer worthy of her regard. 

He held out as long as he could, watching her recovery as closely as he could without discomfitting her. Gale had arrived as expected, and as expected, Peeta found him to be every bit the dashing hero he had feared to meet. Tall, handsome, smartly garbed in his uniform and bearing the responsibilities of his rank and success with clear ease. Peeta found himself observing his wife’s interactions with the colonel with far too much interest and fear. 

Yet, although there were moments when Peeta’s heart twisted with the certainty that he had already lost his wife to this man’s love, Katniss never wavered in her efforts to resume marital relations with Peeta, culminating in the note she had sent the night prior, after she had retired to her chambers. It had come to him via a footman, and found him in the drawing room, mired in a conversation with the colonel, about the empire’s prospects for expansion, and when he read the note, it had required all of Peeta’s fortitude and self-control to refrain from running out on the colonel mid-sentence.

Then, somehow, the conversation had turned to Katniss herself as Gale regaled Peeta with several anecdotes about their shared childhood. Peeta had only grown more uncomfortable and less sure of himself as the night wore on. Doubting the sincerity of Katniss’s words in her missive. Until an offhand comment from Gale had caught his attention.

“She was always such a quiet, serious child. I expected her to grow into a quiet, serious woman. Who would have guessed our Katniss could sing with such beauty?”

It took Peeta far too long to piece it together. The words and their meaning. Far too long for him to reply. “Do you mean to say she did not sing when she was younger?”

“Not that I ever heard. She had no use for anything she considered pure amusement. While other young ladies concern themselves with frivolous pursuits such as ribbons and rainbows and embroidering cushions, Katniss concerned herself with far more substantial matters. The running of a household in her father’s place, and the like. What need has a woman of her station for singing except to catch a husband? And you’ll know, of course, that she had not intended to pursue marriage…”

It felt an accusation, this reminder of Katniss’s wish to remain free of matrimony. Yet somehow, Peeta found himself defending Katniss’s capitulation to him rather than defend himself, who was the clear target of the implied accusation.

“She didn’t. Pursue it, that is,” Peeta supplied, and Gale had given him an odd look. Peeta had been too caught up attempting to decipher the rest to pay too much attention to the expression. It made no sense. Katniss had told him that she sang with her father as a child, that her education in song had been informal but beautiful, and comprised many of her fondest memories of her father. She had once told Peeta that when she sang, she felt close to her father again, in a happy way. She sang all the time in the months before they’d lost the babe. And yet here sat Gale, her childhood friend whom Peeta feared as a threat to their marriage, admitting that he had no knowledge of this aspect of Katniss’s childhood, of her heart.

What else then, did Gale not know about Katniss?

Hope sprang to life again in Peeta’s chest. Using the first lull in conversation to make his excuses, Peeta had rushed upstairs and dismissed his valet as soon as he was prepared for bed. Still, he paced and worried and doubted, reading and reading the note again and again. Mulling over her song tonight, Gale’s admissions.

Love me again, she had demanded. Did she not know? Did she not know how fiercely love for her had always beat in his breast? Clearly she had not. Resolved to show her, Peeta had gone to her, intending only to provide for her pleasure and then hold her while they slept. But of course, Katniss had other intentions, and once he was again naked in bed with her, Peeta found that he could not resist. 

And he had been right. He had become a mad man. A demon in her bed, yet she had not allowed him to stop. She had in fact encouraged him and demanded his passion. Despite his better judgment, his body awakened the way it did in those early months of marriage. Ready to plunge into her again. And again. And again. Until they were too tired even to dress for sleep.

Peeta knew it would be the same this morning, even after last night. Perhaps especially after last night. He dared not wake her to satisfy his own desires, however, not after he kept her awake so late into the night, into the morning even, with their repeated lovemaking. 

He chastised himself for demanding so much of her, for asking so much of her. But, God help him, he desperately and constantly desired his wife, and once Katniss initiated their lovemaking, Peeta almost always found it impossible for him to stop until they both collapsed, satisfied, exhausted, and completely spent.

He should not wake her, he thought as he continued to watch the sun’s progress as it rose and still his wife slept in his arms. He should not. And so he fought a familiar battle with his own body.

Eventually, she stirred in his arms and Peeta found his hand wandering closer and closer to places where bliss could be found. Katniss murmured in her sleep and then stilled. Her breathing halted and Peeta ceased his touches, waiting for her to notice her body’s fatigue and unleash her anger on him for his inconsiderate behaviour.

“Peeta? Why did you stop?” she asked instead and Peeta sighed. He pressed a kiss to her temple and rolled his body away from hers.

“Because you must be tired and sore this morning.”

“I am,” she said and turned to him, her brow furrowed. “But that is no excuse for you to tease me and then to cease.”

“I had not--” he stopped talking at the knock on her door that preceded the turning of the key and the entrance of a servant.

“Lady Mellark, shall I see to your needs?” Eliza, her ladies’ maid, halted and gasped as she saw them. “Your pardon, my lord! My lady! I had no idea!”

She bobbed a curtsy and left, locking the door again behind her. Peeta glanced at Katniss and noted her furious blush. While Katniss was recovering, she often locked the door in an attempt to hide her grief from even the servants. Peeta had gotten quite irate with her over that and the servants had standing orders to ignore the locked door to her chamber, to ensure that Lady Mellark had ample food and had not worsened during her periods of rest.

“You did not rescind the locked door order, did you?” Katniss accused him. Of course he had not. It still felt necessary until a few days ago, and then her note last night had him too distracted to rescind the order.

“And with that, my lady, I believe I shall depart,” Peeta declared and reached for his crutch, but before he could grasp it, Katniss gripped his shoulder and pushed him back onto the mattress.

“You will not. You will wait here.” Katniss clambered from the bed then, and Peeta lay there, wondering why he did not simply leave the room. She returned shortly after and slid naked back into the bed. Peeta gripped the sheets beneath him and swallowed, praying for forbearance.

He would not make demands of her body this morning. He would not.

“Do you intend to ignore me, husband? Or shall we sleep a little longer in one another’s arms?”

“My love, we have a guest,” Peeta reminded her and yet he could not resist. He returned his body to his earlier position, wrapped protectively around her.

“He has been here long enough to grow comfortable. He can amuse himself,” Katniss stated as she wriggled in his arms. Peeta hissed and gripped her hip to halt her motions.

“Have a care, my love. I do not wish to hurt you.”

Katniss scoffed at his words but stilled her body, and gradually, Peeta relaxed enough to slip into a light slumber, warm and content to at last be in her bed again, to know that their love had not been diminished by the months of denial.

***

Katniss waited for her husband’s breathing to calm. The steady puffs of air against her neck did little to calm her own awakened needs, but she was satisfied that Peeta at least slumbered for now. She knew that he woke before dawn every morning, if he slept at all. She knew that he had likely spent the morning silently berating himself for what had happened in their bed last night, despite all the evidence she had heaped before him that she had wanted him as desperately as he wanted her. 

She had been relieved at that. Some part of her knew that Peeta’s restraint since they lost the babe was due to his consideration for her well being, both in body and in spirit, yet it had infuriated her. Ever since that first kiss they shared in the garden, Katniss had delighted in her husband’s bashful restraint at first and gloried in his absolutely mad passion once she had broken through his restraint. 

It was always the same with him, this belief in his own insignificance, this insistence that he not burden her with himself or his feelings, that he must distance himself to protect her, from what she knew not. And then once she had found the crack in his armour and split it open, the immense outpouring of love and need and passion that Peeta could no longer contain.

Today, she sensed that he needed rest. And perhaps the haze of his sleepiness would allow her to slip in again and ignite his desire for her enough to overcome his silly inhibitions about hurting her. Of course her body was sore this morning. How could it not be, with the impassioned way Peeta had demanded her satisfaction several times the previous night? Katniss did not intend to let that stop her. She had not let it stop her in the early months of their marriage, and she would not let it stop her now.

She let him sleep until the morning sun blazed through the window. Of course, Peeta was correct about their guest. Gale would be awake and about the house by now, but she did not intend to let that stop her either. Eliza had already proven herself time and again as a resourceful and thoughtful maid. She would likely provide a suitable explanation to Gale as to the whereabouts of the lord and lady of the house.

In the meantime, Katniss let her hand rest on Peeta’s thigh and began to caress him, the way he had been caressing her as she woke earlier. She felt the stirring of his desire against her backside and, unrelenting, continued her caressing assault on him.

His breath hitched and his fingers clenched on her hip. 

“Katniss,” he groaned and she slid her hand between them. “My love.”

“Why do you fight what we both desire, my lord? My love,” she whispered and gasped as his hand slid around her body, delving into her already considerable arousal.

“Because you are in pain. Because I need you to understand that while I grieve the child we lost, I cannot bear to put you at risk for the hope of another.”

She gasped again and whimpered, wriggling in his arms as his deft fingers and his pained words proved to her again how well her husband knew her.

“I want you, Peeta,” she sighed and moved her hips, inviting him to come into her as they lay like that, his body curled around hers, his chest pressing warm and solid to her back. “I yearn for your touch for the sake of your touch. I want you because I want you. Not because I am desperate for another child.”

“But you do desire another child,” he murmured. She turned her head and gazed up at him, allowing all the sorrow and love she felt to show in her expression as she nodded.

“Yes. Yes, my love. I want a child. Ours. Your eyes, your laugh, your ridiculous curls on his head. But I can wait for them. I cannot wait much longer for you. I cannot bear this distance between us any longer. Do not place it there again.”

His eyes closed and he leaned his forehead against hers, and yet he gripped her thigh and opened her a little more. She gasped as he entered her, swift and sure and deep.

“Oh my love, yes,” she whimpered as he began to move. She smiled with the ecstasy and stroked his cheek and his hair as they gasped and whispered to one another. Her body twisted and turned with the need. Her fingernails scraped at his scalp as she moaned and flew higher, closer to her crisis with each sinuous movement of their bodies together.

She reached hers first, as she knew she would, crying out and then clinging to him as his mouth muffled her sounds of ecstasy. His kiss only heightened her pleasure in her release and she quaked like a storm in his arms, certain that only his hold on her prevented her complete destruction.

As she floated back down from her rapture, she smiled for a moment and then frowned. “My love. You did not join me.”

“I did not,” he admitted, kissing her perspiring brow and then her eyelids, then her lips. “I’ve no wish to hurt you.”

“Then you will love me until you finish as well,” she stated simply. “Let me--”

“No,” he said, his fingers tightening on her hip and his blonde hair shimmering in the bright morning light as he shook his head. “I will take care of myself.”

At this, Katniss scowled. She moved her hips and gripped tight to his hair as he grunted and met her movement. “You will not.”

“You said you could wait for a child.”

“I can. And I will if I must, but you will not deny me what we both desire, Peeta,” she murmured and grinned at the sound of his tormented groan. At the feel of his restraint snapping once again.

Words of love poured from his mouth unchecked as he altered their embrace. He came to her as she lay on her back beneath him now. He moved above her, inside her. She clung to him, her limbs tight around his body, her hands scratching desperately at his back as she arched into their love. Into the inevitable pleasure of having him inside her, moving as though they had been formed for one another. It felt as though starlight coursed in her veins and perhaps it was the stars that had determined them for one another. She knew it was the sort of thing Peeta himself might say, and in fact he did say such things in the early days of their marriage.

Even before that, when they were but friends, together avoiding the matchmaking schemes of others, at times he would say things that hinted at an undying love for her.

Those words had frightened her then but she craved them now. She pulled his mouth closer to hers so that she might breathe them into her lungs as they poured from his lips, his love a vital source of life to her body.

She shook her head in disbelief at the power his love still held over her and whimpered as she felt her body approaching another climax. He must feel it too, she sensed as the expression in his eyes shifted from awe to determination. His fists clenched in the bedclothes beside her ribs and he leaned into her, his movements steady and constant, allowing her to tip into the flames of ecstasy first. 

She felt him following her, though, even through the waves of release. He followed her with a tremendously loud shout and wild, almost punishing thrusts of his hips. His body would not seem to countenance restraint in that moment and as soon as he passed through it, she pulled him to her in a tight, unbreakable embrace.

He buried his face in her bosom and seemed to be sobbing. It frightened her a little, his sudden release of feeling. She had once asked him why he so often held back as he did from their passion, until it became uncontainable. He had admitted to her that his father once told him that intercourse was the duty of the nobility to continue the lines. That it should be cold and dispassionate by necessity because passion clouded the judgement and therefore, the late Lord Mellark had taught his son, was the sole luxury of lower echelons of society.

How wretched, Katniss had thought when Peeta first told her that. Her own mother had come from a lower line of the gentry and married a steward. At the time, it must have been scandalous, but they had been happy and loved one another deeply. Katniss herself had married Peeta not because of his title, but because she loved him, although she had not yet admitted it to herself at the time, and Peeta loved her. Despite his father’s lessons on passion, Peeta showered her in affection and passion alike. 

No one could deny his love for her. 

Much later, they arose from bed and dressed. Peeta aided her with her corset and gown, which delighted her. It had been far too long since he had performed these small tasks for her, engaged in these marital intimacies. He assisted her in donning her stockings even, smiling up at her and kissing her thighs above the embroidered garter ribbons he ordered for her as a wedding gift. She clung to the bedclothes as he did so, thinking of the day he gave them to her. The flower of her namesake twisted around words stitched in a watery blue, like the lakes where one could find Katniss blooms.

Here where I wish to always stay, to know your embrace.

He confessed to her that it had felt perfectly scandalous when he ordered them for her, that it had taken him a long time to pluck up the courage to give them to her, uncertain as he was of her reaction. 

When he did give them to her several days after their wedding, along with a pair of luminously silky stockings, Katniss had blushed and wavered for a moment. Was she indeed allowed such a scandalously intimate thing? Of course she was, she finally decided. They were married. She sat up in their bed, clutching the neck of her night shift closed for some silly reason, and beckoned him to her.

“Help me with them?”

He had, even though she would not wear such a thing to sleep and it was already late at night. His touch as he slid the stockings up her calves, the brush of his fingers as he tied the garters in place had aroused her beyond imagining. When he had finished and sat back to admire them on her, Katniss reached for him and dragged him to bed.

Moments later, she had come apart with Peeta embraced between her legs, their bodies undulating in harmony and Katniss moaning his name like a chorus while his fingers toyed with the ribbons still holding the stockings in place.

Remembering that night, Katniss watched as Peeta once again tied the garters in place and turned his head to kiss each of her knees before he stood. She reached out and grasped two handfuls of his still loose shirt. They gazed into one another’s eyes and Katniss wondered if he could anticipate her words before she spoke. 

Instead of speaking, she tugged on the fabric in her hands and Peeta tumbled back into bed with her.

Much later, with some difficulty, Katniss let him go as Peeta rose from the bed and stretched. 

“Do you intend to remain in bed and neglect our guest all day, my love?” he teased and Katniss threw the nearest pillow at him. He deflected it with a wicked grin on his face and shrugged on his dressing robe. “Or shall I ring up for food to prolong your stay in the sheets.”

“It seems a little late for that. Order a large luncheon today, and perhaps I shall have a bath, since my wicked husband seems intent on exhausting me.”

Peeta scoffed at her words, but the grin hadn’t moved from his face. He rang for Eliza and retrieved Katniss’s key from her drawer before unlocking the door and opening it.

“My lord,” Eliza curtsied again.

“My lady requests a hot bath, although it is abominably late in the day.” Peeta’s grin remained unrepentant as he made the declaration, but Eliza shared a knowing look with Katniss.

“Right away, my lord. My lady.”

She disappeared and Peeta shut the door, his eyes pausing on the floor as he bent over to retrieve something.

“What is it?”

“A note. For you,” Peeta said, his tone and the mere presence of the note giving her pause.

“For me? From whom?”

“A lover, perhaps,” Peeta murmured and ran his finger along the edge. Katniss scoffed at his words.

“Well then, hand it over, although I have no idea why you feel the need for subterfuge when you can simply tell me your thoughts,” she said and held her hand out for the note. Her gaiety wavered as Peeta shook his head.

“It is not from me.” He showed her the address and her heart dropped to her stomach and she lowered her hand as she recognized the penmanship. She knew that her face showed Peeta a terrible untruth as he winced. “I see. I had thought…”

“Peeta, no. That is not… Gale is not my lover.” She rose hurriedly from the bed, and Peeta clutched the letter to his breast. Fear rose up in her. “Here. I will toss it in the fire.”

“Are you not even a little curious what he writes?”

“Not if it is going to lead you into doubts. Read it yourself, then,” she huffed and sat again on the bed. 

“Very well.” Peeta shrugged and tore into the note before she could react. “My darling Katniss, When this letter finds you, I will already be away--”

“Away? What can he mean?” Katniss asked, rising once more. 

“I do not know if you interrupt,” he said ut his eyes only scanned and he did not read aloud. This time, when Katniss reached for the paper, Peeta handed it over without a fight.

“I do not trust myself to continue reading without destroying something.”

My darling Katniss,

When this letter finds you, I will already be away. Perhaps I should have waited, as leaving in such haste will no doubt arouse your husband’s suspicions. I could not bear to continue a moment longer in a household where you are forced to enact such an elaborate charade. I must confess, I did lose hope briefly last night. I must explain.

After a fortnight in your home, I was convinced you must be miserable in your marriage. You are not yourself around that man. Sickly and pale, dejected and lacking all your former vibrancy. It is as though you are a watercolor caught in a current, all of your bright colors draining from you, and I, the helpless witness. 

You wrote to me, fearful of losing me. You begged me to write to you, but I know now that those pleas were mere shadows of what I must do for you. Last night, I resolved to liberate you from your prison. I came to your chambers, intending to declare myself and beg you to away with me. Instead I happened upon a most horrifying spectacle. A charade of desire enacted by yourself--

Katniss could not stop the sound of mortification that clawed its way from her throat. She looked up to find her husband with his hands braced on her mantel, staring into the fire, and somehow she knew that he had at least read to this part.

-- I must confess that at first, I believed it. I credited your performance as proof that I had in fact been mistaken. Perhaps you did indeed love your husband and desire your marriage. I resolved to depart today, a strategic retreat, an admission of defeat, but then your maid gave me hope. She claimed you to be indisposed yet again this morning and I knew that your monstrous husband must be the cause.

We were once meant to be wed, Katniss, my beloved, surely you must recall. We had an agreement, you and I. You swore you had no interest in marriage save to a man you described to me that day. I knew that man to be myself and I believed your love constant enough to induce you to wait for me. I do not accuse you of inconstancy now. I still do not know what dire tragedy forced you into marriage, but I am convinced it must be the worst form of torture and coercion for you to submit yourself to such abominable charades.

My love for you has never wavered, and I sense that yours for me remains as constant as ever. If I am right, my darling, I beg of you… come to me. Meet me at The Hanging Tree Inn along Greenbriar Road. I will await you at midnight and we will escape together.

All my love,Gale

“Escape together? How could he possibly suggest it? Has he no concept of the shame and ignominy his family would face if he deserted his post?”

Peeta turned slowly to face her, and she could see in the glittering fury in his eyes that she had spoken amiss.

“Is that… truly your only objection to this letter?” Peeta asked, his voice low and almost menacing. “Not the suggestion that you abandon our marriage for him, or his clear certainty that you would agree? Not the claim that you were engaged to him? Not the insinuation that you married me out of desperation? Not the admission that he listened at our door while we made love last night?”

His voice cracked on the last complaint and he tore his gaze away from her, whispered one more to the floor. “Or his assertion that I am draining you of all your vitality.”

“Peeta,” she gasped and stood from the bed, hurrying towards him. He stepped back and held up his hands as though to ward her off.

A knock interrupted and Peeta snatched her dressing gown up, hastily draped it over her shoulders before granting entrance to the servants. They brought in the tub and bucket after bucket of steaming water. Katniss and Peeta waited in silence. She chewed on her lip as she searched for the right words to reassure him, and came up uselessly hopelessly empty. How to untangle the mess of her feelings for Gale and how Peeta disrupted every fiber of her being? She couldn’t even fathom how or when to start.

“Thank you,” Peeta said to the servants as they finished and left, sounding shockingly calm. Kind as always.

He stood next to the tub then and motioned towards it. Already she could smell the soothing fragrance Eliza had added. She could see the steam curling up from it and longed to plunge her body into its depths. She longed even more to breach this sudden distance between them. 

“My lady,” Peeta croaked. She went to him and he helped her remove her robe, offered his hand in assistance and saw her seated in the tub. Then he bowed to her, turned on his heel, and left her. As soon as she heard the soft click of his door closing between them, Katniss buried her face in her hands and allowed herself to weep. Because she knew what she must do.

After her bath, she ordered her horse saddled and penned one sentence on a piece of paper, entrusting it to Eliza, to see it delivered to Peeta once she had left. She grimaced, still sore from the vigor of Peeta’s lovemaking, as she mounted her horse and rode the handful of miles to The Hanging Tree Inn. It was not even tea time, yet her stomach growled ominously as she rode, from hunger or anxiety, she could not be certain.

When she entered the inn, she was directed to one of the private dining rooms and pain sliced through her as Gale smiled at the sight of her. He was heartbreakingly handsome, she admitted, and she regretted the pain she must inevitably cause. He stood and opened his arms.

“You came. I knew you would.” His gaze darted over her shoulder and his smile widened. “And you came alone. Good.”

“I only came alone because I knew that you would not believe what I must tell you unless I did so in person and alone.” Gale’s smile faltered and Katniss gathered her courage.

***

There were very few temptations in this world that Peeta Lucian Mellark, Earl of Baecare and fourth in his father’s line to hold the title, feared. His mother had prided herself on instilling iron strong self control in all three of her sons. Unfortunately, she never managed to break her own husband of his drinking, and after years of cleaning up his father’s messes together with his brothers, of attempting to hide their father’s inebriation as often as possible to avoid their mother’s wrath, Peeta feared his own vulnerability to excessive drink. He never drank more than one, perhaps two drinks at a social engagement, and rarely ever did he drink at home.

He stood in the drawing room of his estate, the one to which he withdrew to seek solitude after a brawl in the schoolyard saw his leg irreparably broken and himself temporarily ejected from school, until his father had levied his wealth and title to gain Peeta’s return. His mother’s disappointment and creative punishments ensured Peeta never got caught fighting again. He withdrew here again after the fire destroyed the true estate of the title, killing his entire family while Peeta was away seeing a doctor who promised he could at last straighten Peeta’s twisted leg.

He rushed home to see his family buried and never returned to find out if the doctor’s promises held true.

Peeta had thought, when he brought Katniss here, that perhaps he could at last chase away the loneliness and misery that seemed to seep beneath the drapes of every room in the house. He clutched the glass in his right hand. His first drink poured and waiting to be consumed. He glanced again at Katniss’s maddeningly brief and unclear note.

I am not leaving.

Not leaving? Why then did he watch her mount her horse and ride the mare in the direction of town, towards the inn where Colonel Gale Hawthorne asked her to meet him. It was not too late, Peeta supposed. Would they dine and take a room at the inn? Consummate their love before beginning their journey? Perhaps he could follow and challenge Gale to a duel.

Challenge Gale, a trained soldier and colonel in the army, to a duel, what foolish nonsense.

He must indeed be the idiot his mother always declared him to be, if he believed he could earn and hold Katniss’s heart. 

He considered his drink. He should just begin it now. Get himself impossibly drunk for the second time in his life and admit that Katniss would not be returning. It was close to dinner.

A shout interrupted his wallowing and he lifted his eyes, spotted the cloud of dust at the end of the lane that indicated a rider. He dared not hope. He dared not move.

Instead, Peeta waited in the drawing room and clung to his drink and the note as the rider approached. As her form took familiar shape and he recognized the same riding habit she wore when she left. His heart clenched and he dropped the glass, spilling the alcohol on the carpet. He retrieved the glass. He grasped for his cane and turned towards the door as she dismounted.

Perhaps she forgot her luggage, he reasoned. She did leave without any bags.

The door opened then and Katniss strode into the room. She seemed confident until their eyes locked and then she wavered. Her mouth opened, but no sound came forth.

“You left,” he croaked and she scowled at him.

“I did not. Did you not read the note?”

“The note? Of course I read the note, all four unconvincing words of it.”

She blushed and dropped her gaze.

“I owe you an explanation.”

“Indeed.”

“There was never a formal engagement between Gale and I.”

She stopped talking and Peeta stared. Blinked. And grew impatient.

“I feel as though there is still much to be explained.”

“I know there is, but I do not know where to even start.”

“Expand on the lack of engagement. That is a start.”

“You should know that he kissed me.”

“He… kissed you. When?”

“Just now, at the inn. It is inconsequential and I stopped him but--”

Rage rushed up inside him, replacing at last the blank numbness that had taken over when he saw Katniss riding away from him. He threw the empty glass and it shattered against the wall. Katniss flinched and stared at him, wide eyed.

“You rode away from here, met another man -- who has professed his love for you -- at an inn, tell me that he kissed you, and expect me to accept it as inconsequential?”

“I would explain if you would let me!”

“I think I would rather call him out. But the real question remains. Would it serve any purpose?”

She scowled at him. Not her usual scowl. Peeta loved that scowl. He often teased it onto her face simply to tease it back off again, into a smile or a laugh, sometimes even a kiss. This was not that scowl. This scowl was formidable and terrifying.

“Serve any purpose? Of course it would serve no purpose! It would be pointless and stupid to call him out.”

Her words only stoked his rage. “Stupid? Stupid how? Do explain to me how it would be stupid to challenge the man who kissed my wife and asked her to run away with him?”

“Stupid because Gale is a crack shot. He would kill you.”

“And that would bother you?” Peeta asked, reckless and uncaring in the moment.

“Of course it would!”

“I fail to see why. You would be a wealthy widow.”

“Don’t be obtuse, Peeta,” she shouted as she charged towards him. “I do not want you dead! Are you really going to throw away our love because Gale kissed me once? Against my will?”

Her words immobilized him. Our love. She sometimes called Peeta “my love,” but he had accepted it as a term of endearment no different than when she called him “my lord” or “husband," not as a declaration of love.

“Yes, of course it would be stupid to challenge him to a duel when you have no hope of winning, and it would be pointless because I came back! I never intended on leaving because I love you!”

Her words and her clear fury shocked him enough that he simply stood there as she grasped his lapels and pulled on them, nearly ripping the fabric as she smashed her mouth to his. He flinched then, the image of Gale kissing her surging up in his mind. Tormenting him with the thought that she might still be able to taste the other man on her lips, even as she kissed him. He attempted to retreat, but Katniss would not allow it. Her mouth savaged his until his resistance broke. 

There were few temptations in this world that could induce Peeta Lucian Mellark, Earl of Baecare and the fourth of his father’s line to hold title, into obliterating every known rule of propriety. But the woman kissing the breath out of him had always possessed the ability to addle his mind and stir his blood. She claimed his heart and entrenched herself so deeply into his skin that even now, knowing that she had ridden away from him to meet another man, however briefly, he could not summon the will to resist her.

Perhaps it made him stupid, caving to her demands in that moment, her furious declaration of love for him still waged war in his brain with the certainty that her lover was even then still waiting for her at the inn. But even if that was her plan, to seduce Peeta and leave him too exhausted to follow, he found that he could not quite bring himself to care. Because she did come back.

She gasped when his arms came around her, cinching her impossibly tight against his chest as he finally returned her kisses. They stumbled across the room to the desk. She gasped again when he tossed her atop the desk and flipped up her skirts. Scattered papers fluttered about them, noisy distracting birds as he kissed her. He had neither the time nor the patience for niceties, but Katniss didn’t seem to either.

He moaned her name like a prayer as her hands worked to undress him enough. His coat discarded, his waistcoat half undone. He gripped her buttocks and pushed into her, drinking in the way her body arched and how she moaned as he slid home inside her. She was wet and warm all around him, and he barely had time to register her copious arousal before he began to move.

He thought he had made love to her in almost every state of passion he could conceive. Tender, grieving, hopeful, frenzied, and so many others. But as he moved between her thighs and she met his punishing thrusts with equal fervor, he knew this was different. This had the potential to destroy them. Or forge them into something even stronger than they had been before. He had feared himself to be a mad beast before, but now he knew himself to be one. He rutted between her thighs. He bit at her neck and her breasts while he fucked her. He only half heeded her cries and her pleas as the pain of her nails gouging into his skin became unbearable.

But even when she broke and screamed in his arms, he could not stop. His only saving grace came in the feel of her clenching in release all around him, in the fact that Katniss’s scream of release might be loud enough to reach the other man’s ears, even five miles away at the inn.

He joined her, desperately moaning her name and collapsing even as he was still caught in the throes of his release. The dishes from his uneaten luncheon clattered to the floor and shattered. He winced in regret at the mess, but couldn’t do a thing about it now. 

As they recovered their breath, Peeta lifted her in his arms. She curled around him and clung to him as he carried her, staggered the handful of steps to the chair before he sat heavily in it. Her fingers curled in his hair absently, again and again. He waited and waited some more. A servant knocked quietly and he sent them away. The room grew dark and finally, Katniss spoke.

She spoke of a proposal that was not a true proposal, a mere suggestion and a few questions that she had analysed over and over again. She spoke of letters that still came to Hazelle Hawthorne, even after her son had left home for his military duties. She explained that years of hard work had left Mrs. Hawthorne unable to write most days and so Katniss handled Gale’s wayward correspondence, pointing them towards his new direction. Until one day a perfumed letter arrived from a woman whose name Katniss did not recognize. Consumed with curiosity, instead of sending it on, she had read it, and known from it that Gale had taken lovers.

At first, she had been furious, then hurt, and then doubtful of Gale’s intentions. Perhaps he had no intention of marrying her at all, she had decided. She convinced herself that she had been mistaken in Gale's love for her and feeling foolish, resolved to act as though nothing had happened at all. She burned the letter and never spoke of it again, not to anyone.

Then, Haymitch Abernathy had paid a visit, claiming a distant family connection to Mr. Everdeen and offering to help his girls by sponsoring Katniss for a single season in society. She had agreed, not out of interest in finding a husband for herself, but rather to gain the knowledge she would need to guide Primrose through her own launch into polite society.

Then she had met Peeta and everything had changed. 

“We were so happy, and I so in love with you that I reconsidered my anger towards Gale. I tried to forgive him. How could I remain angry with him, when his actions helped lead me to you?”

At last she emerged from his shirt, her face red and tear stained, her lips still swollen from how harshly Peeta had kissed her. He winced in regret and attempted to apologise.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Katniss declared with an adamant shake of her head, her ungloved palms resting on his cheeks. “You do not. I should have explained to you better before I went, but I had to tell him in person, alone, or he would never have believed me.”

“And what did you tell him?”

“The truth,” she cried and shook her head when Peeta reached to comfort her. “No, let me finish. I told him that he’d been horribly mistaken. That you do not drain life from me, Peeta. You give me hope. We lost a babe and even though I had only carried our child for a handful of months, the loss devastated me. You know this, but Gale did not. I have not even told my own mother!”

Her voice broke and her confession shocked him. Mrs. Everdeen and Miss Primrose were due to arrive here at their home within the week and Katniss had not conveyed the news? Did her mother then believe she would find her daughter close to childbirth when she arrived?

“Katniss…”

“No, please.” Peeta nodded and waited as she regathered herself. “I have always most feared losing the ones I love, and when he wrote asking if I was truly married to another, I feared he might grow angry with me and end our friendship. It did not even occur to me that our friendship was already lost when I read that letter from his lover, even if I had managed to forgive him. I could not trust him to know my heart.”

Peeta slumped in the chair and in the quiet after her admissions, found a strange sort of peace. Katniss began to kiss him. Soft touches of her lips to his forehead, his nose, his ears.

“Is there anything else I need to explain?”

“Only one thing,” he murmured. “Was that really the only time you kissed Gale?”

She went still and he risked looking up at her. A strange smile had begun to spread over her face. “Yes.”

“Well then,” he said and the last of the tension seeped from his frame. “I suppose I should admit to you that I intended to let you go. If you truly loved him and wanted to be with him, I would not have followed you.”

“Why not?” she sounded annoyed and he nearly laughed.

“Because I could not have lived with myself if I thought I was the cause of your unhappiness.”

“How could you think even for a moment that you were?”

“Because the first time you smiled, the first time you were happy after we lost the babe, was when you received that letter from Gale, telling us that he was to visit.”

She scowled at him then, the scowl that he loved. Confusion and doubt at his words, then she shook her head. “Ridiculous. That was not the first time I had felt happy afterwards.”

“Then what was?” he asked and she caressed his face, a soft smile on her lips.

“We were in the study. You had been working and I had been pretending to read, but in reality I had been weeping behind the book. Eventually, I wore myself out and fell asleep. When I woke up, you were lifting me into your arms. You carried me upstairs, undressed me, and helped me into a hot bath. You suggested we might take luncheon outside in the garden, and although all I could manage was to lay there and watch the clouds while you sketched and played with my hair, I was content. I thought that if I could find those small moments of happiness and hope with you again, and hold onto them, then one day, we might find our way back to feeling joy again.”

“Ah, these are the sort of words I have longed to hear.” Peeta had at last believed her, and slid his hand over hers, holding it in place so that he could turn his head and gently kiss her palms. “Now that we have settled we are both idiots in love and neither of us is leaving, what shall we do now?”

“Hmmm. You could request dinner be served in our room and you could take me to bed.”

“Bed? At this early hour? Countess! Are you so determined to shock the servants then?”

At this, she laughed and kissed him. “My love, I believe we have already done that today.” Her eyes moved pointedly to the desk and Peeta felt himself blushing.

“Well… then perhaps it will not be so shocking after all.”

[revvethasmythh]

live footage of me doing combat on tactician difficulty

[buddierecs]

hurt/comfort buddie fics.

all of these are general audience, teen and up or not rated (no smut) make sure to kudos/comment on these amazing works :)

a leaf falls on loneliness (highly recommend this fic!!) by: iimpossible_things "buck doesn’t think that if he were to say, “i’m in a bad place”, that anyone would turn him away. really, he doesn’t. the 118 has too many good, kind people for that. but every time he wants to open his mouth, to say something, to reach out to eddie or bobby or hen or chim, he hears eddie yelling, “you’re exhausting.” —you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting, you’re exhausting— so each day he does his job and he laughs and he jokes and he pretends he’s the care-free goofball he’s always been. And each day he packs away his bruises and his worries, takes them home to his empty loft with its quiet rooms, and licks his wounds in silence." word count: 11k important tags: angst, fluff, happy ending, orginal male character blue skies by: spaceprincessem "buck meets another savior baby and everything comes crashing down" word count: 36k important tags: my sisters keeper au, original characters, ptsd, nightmares, emotional whump, evan buckley break down, getting together and i'm not good at winning fights anymore by: spaceprincessem "five times buck needs to feel eddie's heartbeat and the one time eddie needs to feel his" word count: 24k important tags: 5+1 things, whump, protective!eddie diaz, getting together, soft boys in love, ptsd give your heart and soul to charity by: 42hrb "eddie dumps god, gets some more therapy, accepts parts of himself he was taught to hate, loves his best friend, and loves himself" word count: 12k important tags: emotional hurt/comfort, pov eddie diaz, character study, catholic guilt, therapy, pining, getting together i could find you darling, in any life by: justhockey "buck and eddie meet in afghanistan. it changes everything." word count: 27k important tags: diferent first meeting au, army!eddie diaz, navy seal!evan buckley, emotional infidelity, slow burn, hurt/comfort, love confessions catharsis by: rogerzsteven "it only takes one minor inconvenience for buck to have his long overdue breakdown" word count: 5.3k important tags: emotional hurt/comfort, mental/emotional breakdown, bobby nash as evan buckley parent, multiple pov stay by: soft_satan buck’s voice was soft and hesitant, but full of patience when he finally spoke again. “did I do something to upset you, chris? i can leave—” "no!” chris whirled on him, a complete shift from the standoffish vibe he had been giving a second ago. the tears he bravely held back finally broke free from his eyes, sliding down his rosy cheeks from behind his glasses. he shook his head vehemently, the yellow crayon falling to the table. “no, I’m not mad. please…” his words turned to whimpers, his lip trembling. “please don’t leave me too.” word count: 31k important tags: whump, angst, family feels, found family, getting together, team as family

habits by: whileyouresleeping "buck's not sure what's going on when eddie starts kissing him on the head after a rough call, only now it's a thing, and it's a thing buck would very much like to continue if he knew what it meant." word count: 4.9k important tags: tooth-rotting fluff, mild hurt/comfort stick with you by soft_satan "eddie licked his dry lips as he reached for his radio, trying to keep his movements slow and delicate to prevent any more damage to himself or buck. “diaz to captain nash.” “go for nash,” came bobby’s quick reply. “you two okay? where are you?” “we’re in a bit of a sticky situation here…” “we’re a shish kabob, cap!” buck chimed in. eddie rolled his eyes" word count: 5.9k important tags: impalements, whump, getting together, love confessions, hurt!buddie still by: brewsrosemilk "for the first time, buck longs for a bullet wound to treat. dirt to dig at. a door to break through. something. there’s nothing. “your guess was correct, diaz,” the bomb technician tells them, as he gestures to the orange circle. “you’re standing on a large sensor plate, wired to a detonator. It’s incredibly important that you don’t move. don’t shift. when you put your weight down, it was like cocking a gun - you take your weight off, this thing is powerful enough to take the entire house with it." word count: 9.3k important tags: near death experience, love confessions, happy ending, first kiss

be my baby (i'll look after you) by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "buck finally breaks down after fixing everyone but himself" word count: 1.5k important tags: nightmares, ptsd, panic attacks, pet names, cuddling, pre-relationship, almost love confession i was made for you by: youdrewstarsaroundmyscars118 "buck’s taking care of christopher while eddie is in texas when chris gets sick and has to get surgery." word count: 5.3k important tags: sick!christopher diaz, parent evan buckley, hospitals, bobby nash is evan buckley's parent, getting together, 118 crew as family i know you're hurting (but so am i) by: justhockey "eddie understands better than maybe anyone else ever could, how it feels to have everything unravel in the palm of your hands. he knows frustration - he knows fury. he’s painfully familiar with that burning rage that crackles in the tips of your fingers, that makes your skin hot and chest tight, and makes you want to punch anyone that dares to even look at you. but that doesn’t give chim the right to lay a damn hand on buck" word count: 3.7k important tags: ptsd, feelings realisation, protective!eddie diaz, communication, 5x04 coda of bikes and concussions by: datleggy "buck gets into an accident on his way to work in the morning, and before he can explain why he's late, he gets thoroughly chewed out and the rest of his day goes way downhill from there." word count: 7.6k important tags: injured!evan buckley, misunderstandings, father-son relationship (buck and bobby), team as family it's okay by: itsmylifekay "buck gets hurt on a call and doesn’t tell anyone." word count: 11k important tags: injury, dissociation, buck needs a hug love language by: whileyouresleeping "eddie's love language is acts of service, and buck doesn't totally get it." word count: 6.4k important tags: mild hurt/comfort, pining, fluff, friends to lovers don't go without me by: ingu "there was a snap, and a crack, and buck was suddenly weightless. the car, the tree, eddie, everything was falling. buck was falling. falling." word count: 31k important tags: major character injury, pining, team as family, whump, love confessions, getting together accidental (please check tw!!) by: rosefield "post lawsuit, buck accidentally cuts his arm. he decides that maybe not getting help is best for everyone." word count: 36k important tags: depression, suicide attempt, post-lawsuit, worried!eddie diaz, happy ending

check out the recs for mature rating hurt/comfort fics :) explicit rating hurt/comfort fics

[chimneyz]

8 for the kiss writing prompt :) <3 - zahraa/ohithankyou

8- ... in secrecy (thank you zahraa ( @ohithankyou ), i had a lot of fun writing this! <3)

Buck has a secret, a secret buried so deep that it will never see the light of day. He's not sure if he ever wants it too. His team is catching on to his little secret though, they know he has one but they aren't sure as to what it is. Buck was what they called a blabber mouth, secrets were not his forte, he always had to tell someone. Sometimes it even came to the point where he shared too much. Buck was confident he could keep this one to himself. 

Buck groaned as he shifted his body on the bed. He didn't want to get up, he didn't want to leave, he wanted to stay in this moment for the rest of time. This perfect moment where everything made sense to him, where everything was right. His heart fluttered at the site next to him... yeah this moment was perfect. 

- 

Nothing could bring Buck down, not at this moment. Buck has spent weeks upon weeks drowning his sorrows in sugars and flour trying his damndest to not call, to not text, to not reach out. This agonizing misery kept him up day and night, but that was all just a nightmare that passed, nothing more. Now he was as happy as could be, others might not know why but that was for him to know, and him alone. 

Music blared through the Jeep speakers as Buck pulled into the 118 parking lot. 

I'll make you happy, baby, just wait and see

For every kiss you give me, I'll give you three

Oh, since the day I saw you

I have been waiting for you

You know I will adore you 'til eternity

Happily, Buck killed the engine, hopping out of his car with a grin he couldn't hide. 

"Whoa hey, what's made you so happy this morning?" Eddie questioned with an eyebrow raised. 

"Oh uh," Buck's cheeks grew a rosy pink as he rubbed the back of his neck, "I-It’s nothing, really, just uh a good night's rest I-I guess. Gotta head inside!"

Before Eddie could even question his odd behavior Buck ran into the station to change into his uniform. 

It's been becoming increasingly difficult to keep his secret. 

- 

"What has gotten you so chipper?" Hen asked. 

The sirens screamed around them as the engine headed over to a level four fire. Buck knew he shouldn't be this ecstatic, a level four fire is no laughing matter, but nothing can keep Buck down. But that was the problem, the more he stayed this chipper the more obvious his secret might become. He wants to keep it a secret, just for now at least, until he sorts some things out. But it was also nice, to have this secret, it was all his and his alone. In the back of his mind Buck feared that if the secret did get out, everything would change. Buck didn't want things to change. 

"Me? Chipper?" Buck questioned, "H-Have I been chipper?"

"Yes you have been," Chimney raised an eyebrow, "You have been abnormally chipper this past week, a complete one-eighty from when Tommy-"

Hen nudged Chimney on his side forcing an oof to come out of his mouth. 

"Guys I am fine but I am not sure if I would say chipper." Buck tried to keep his smile at bay. 

"We can discuss Buck's odd behavior when we get back to the station," Bobby instructed in the captain's chair, "For now we have a factory fire to deal with." 

- 

The fire was a nightmare, they spent hours upon hours trying to die it down, and the 118 weren't alone, the 133 and the 217 were brought in to help with the raging fire. Now with the fire done Buck's body ached, longing for a nice shower and soft bed. Buck's mind kept wandering to that morning. The perfect moment, a moment he wished he was in, relishing every bit of it. 

Buck placed his helmet and jacket down, shredding the weight off of himself. He breathed in the fresh air, it still smelled of smoke but he didn't care. Quickly, Buck grabbed a water from the engine gulping down the water, sweat, and ash coated his skin. As he moved around the engine his body slammed into something familiar. It took a moment for him to process the reality at hand. Familiar stormy blue eyes glistened in the sunlight, brown curls drenched in sweat, the smell of him even made Buck go mildly insane. Buck never got to see him like this, it only happened once a lifetime ago in a hospital, Buck could still taste the soot from that day. 

"Firefighter Kinard," Buck stated, trying to keep his face neutral.

"Firefighter Buckley," Tommy responded. 

The soot from that day tingled on his tongue. 

"H-Here," Buck offered up the water bottle in his hand, "You look like you might need this."

Tommy nodded as he took the plastic bottle, he lifted his head to chug the not so ice cold water. Mesmerized by the movement of Tommy's throat, Buck watched as some of the water dripped down Tommy’s neck leaving streaks along it breaking through the ash. Suddenly Buck's throat was dry, he desperately needed water now. 

"Thank you," Tommy broke Buck out of the trance, giving Buck back the plastic bottle. 

At that moment Buck didn't care who knew his secret, he was dying of thirst and he needed to be quenched. Buck grabbed Tommy by the cheeks and locked his lips against Tommy's. A surprised moan escaped from Tommy as Buck led them to where no one could see. Both gasped for air as Buck pushed away. 

"I thought you wanted to keep this a secret," Tommy chuckled. 

"I do, for now at least," Buck smiled at him. 

"This is a fantastic way you get caught," Tommy teased. 

"We won't," Buck pressed Tommy against the engine slipping his tongue into Tommy's mouth. This is what he needed, this was what he craved. A giddy delight bubbled in Buck’s chest, he wanted his secret to be his and Tommy's alone. Buck didn't want this moment to end. It was perfect, the way Tommy's stubble brushed against his cheeks, the taste of the soot and ash coating both of their tongues, hands gliding up each other's bodies. It was the perfect moment. 

Buck had to move away, his heart ached for more but his mind knew they couldn't stay in this moment forever. Tommy's eyes sparkled with wonder. Buck relished in moments where he could make Tommy awe-struck. 

"I'll bring over some takeout from that new taco place you love so much," Buck smiles as he moves away. 

"All you need to bring is yourself and it will be perfect," Tommy smiled. 

Buck snorted out a laugh, "You dork." 

Buck watched as Tommy left to meet with the rest of his team. The giddy delight still fluttered in Buck's chest. Yeah, Buck is a secret, a secret he will keep to himself for a little longer until he knows everything will be alright. 

[jollmaster]

redesign trivia: Mimzy

° not the first beauty in the world, but 100% adorable

° shiny smile with a gap in teeth

° amber eyes, like a young bird

° early stage of turning into a hen: limbs are bird-like, the first feathers have already begun to sprout through skin

° low-heeled shoes, comfortable for dance

° throws a patterned shawl over shoulders

° made her own dress out of scraps

° once Mimzy was married and still wears wedding ring sometimes

main gang: Vaggie, Charlie, Angel Dust, Niffty, sir Pentious, Cherri Bomb, Husk, Alastor

Heaven: Adam, Eve, Lute, Emily, Sera

Adam and Eve's children: Cain, Abel, Seth, Awan, Azura

Hell: Lilith, Lucifer, Seviathan, Helsa, Razzle and Dazzle

Vees: Vox, Valentino, Velvette

overlords: Zestial, Rosie, Carmilla Carmine, Odette and Clara, Flaming Skull Guy

relatives and friends: Arackniss, Molly, Alastor's mom, Alastor's father

[frogsinflannel]

for the make me write, if you're still doing that: 🌊🌊🌊

Oooh yes, always! I actually just rewatched Pacific Rim today, so the timing is perfect, thank you!

&

The sun burns behind him, stamping the edge of the earth in fiery gold. Everything is waking up, shaky-limbed and bright-eyed at the dawn of a new day. Not just a new day, though, a new world. Everyone who wakes up today will wake up safer, the threat of the kaiju finally eliminated.

The breach is sealed.

And beside him on their raft, Tommy lays still and cold.

He is gold-lined, too, the pale skin of his face burnished bright and rosy. But he won't move, and the little breaths coming from his barely parted mouth are getting harder and harder to detect.

Buck fists a hand into Tommy's suit, right over his heart. Everyone who wakes up today will have a new world, and he'll be damned if that doesn't include Tommy.

"Come on," he tries again, crawling onto Tommy's body. "Wake up. Y-you gotta wake up." Buck's face is snotty and the hair at his temple is matted with blood. His blood, he thinks, though he can't be sure. "Tommy please." He presses his face into the juncture of Tommy's neck. He smells musky and sweet, with sweat and adrenaline clinging to his skin. "Please." His eyes squeeze shut, and Buck feels something swelling in his chest, a bubble that's about to burst.

They did it. They completed the mission. They saved the whole fucking world and this is what they get in return? The ocean around them is dark but never still - there's a gentle rocking as they move further and further away from their last drop zone. Someone should be coming for them. Maybe. Comms were lost long before Zephyr Rhea was, but if anyone can find them Buck knows that Bobby can.

Exhaustion presses down on him, heavy and oppressive. His whole body hurts, except his leg. He can't feel anything there, can't move it, and maybe he should be concerned but right now all he cares about is waking Tommy up.

"We did it, so you... you gotta help us celebrate. That's what we were gonna do, right? When we got back? Breach is sealed, no more kaiju, we're all having a party. Hen was going to get us a cake," he says, his face wet. He's getting tears on Tommy's neck but he can't bring himself to care. One arm worms it's way under Tommy's chest, and he presses their bodies together as tight as he can. "You think Eddie's going to forgive me if I don't bring you back? He's going to be so pissed. Chim, too. You promised..." He sniffs and buries his head further into the crook of Tommy's neck, mashing his nose in and getting his mouth as close as he can to his skin. "You promised Bobby and Maddie and... and everyone. You promised them that I'd be safe. That I'd make it back okay. Well fuck that, Tommy, because what about you? How'm I supposed to be okay without you?"

There's a cough that shakes the raft beneath him, the body beneath him, and a ragged, half-conscious voice says "Okay with... Me? You really have to raise your bar, kid."

&

make me write