#sorry this is fanfic and not original

[ky-landfill]

[muffinlance]

Do you get the impression the live action is treating us like utter morons?? Like I thought that making it aimed at an older audience would open the doors for more subtle story telling, but no, they're just using monologues to tell us eveything! Like in the second episode Katara's like 'oh his power isn't that he's the avatar, it's that he ~connects~ to people'. Girl we're not idiots we can see that!! And the first episode with Aang's goddawful 'I don't want this responsibility' monologue

THIS, YES. The word that keeps coming to mind is definitely "subtlety". The show for literal children? Had it. The remake for adults? Not so much.

[jinx-xxed]

Supreme Leader

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; The motivation for this one legit came out of nowhere but I can’t even complain 🫶 this is the best smut I’ve done to date I think

Part of Written in the Stars

Summary; You come back to find Snoke gone… and Kylo Ren has taken his place.

Content; NSFW 18+, AFAB reader, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Commander Reader, aftermath of TLJ, angst to sad fluff, original characters, you get promoted!!!, Kylo’s mean, Kylo gets a lightsaber pulled on him, you have a saberstaff, throne room confrontation turns into throne room sex, fucking on the throne, tension, you’re still not Kylo’s biggest fan lol, helmet on, gloves on, calling Kylo by his proper title, orgasm denial, overstimulation, inappropriate use of the Force, very dominant Kylo, fingering, unprotected piv sex, riding Kylo, humiliation, degradation, praise, talking about feelings

Wc; 6.2k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

There’s a sharp ping that comes from the device imbedded into your metal arm cuffs, overriding the silence mode you have it set on and making you startle. You grumble to yourself, pausing your work to tap a few things on the screen and project a smaller screen above it. There it reads the message: all troops involved with mission-76653 cease operations and return to base immediately. There’s coordinates to the Steadfast attached and not the Supremacy, you note.

“Are you serious?” You snap to yourself. The members of Fleet 74 who came along with you on this expedition stop at your voice, looking back at you curiously. You sigh, lifting a hand and making a circular motion with a finger. “We’re heading back to base, I guess. Direct orders.”

Jaharah begins to protest. “Now? But we haven’t finished-“

“I know. I’m not happy about it either.” You say, a scowl settling nicely onto your features. You traveled all the way out to some planet in the Outer Rim to basically have to go right back. You turn, starting the journey to the speeders you’d left behind that’ll return you to your ship that’s even farther away. The others reluctantly follow. “I hope whatever bastard demanded this realizes we’re still two weeks out.”

Lyra’s hands wring together nervously. “Do you think something bad happened? Maybe the resistance-“

You scoff sharply. “The resistance couldn’t hope to do anything against Snoke’s ship, not as things stand now. This is something else.” Or you’d think so.

You won’t admit that you’re worried about what that ‘something else’ could be.

» ☆ «

The trip back to base was just as annoying as the trip out to the assigned planet was. Traveling in a cramped transport ship for two weeks isn’t the most pleasant thing in the world. But finally, there’s a familiar beeping of the sensors and the filter of hyperspace fades away to reveal the massive Star Destroyer that is the Steadfast sitting amongst the blankness of space.

The ship is brought into the hangar and you immediately get the feeling that something is off. A tension in the atmosphere, a shiver running up your arms beneath your uniform. Stormtroopers stand about in a more stiff manner than usual, and the lower workers of the Steadfast seem to have become as meek as mice. There’s also a tinge of leftover smoke in the air, like something blew up within the Star Destroyer. You glance back at your Fleet members as they exit their ships; they feel it too, but Jaharah shrugs, just as lost as you are.

“General,” comes a sudden voice. You snap back around to see a trooper standing before you. “Your presence is requested in the throne room immediately. And the Fleet’s.”

The throne room? What would Snoke want with you now? And what would he want with your Fleet?

You nod, following the Stormtrooper as he acts like some guide through the Steadfast. You’re sure you could find your way faster than he ever could, but you follow along to be nice. The walk there is long, of course, since the ship is so ungodly huge. The hall turns colder as the throne room doors come into view, and it’s like the tension you felt in the air before becomes about ten times heavier, threatening to weigh you down and prevent you from going forward. There’s Sith Troopers guarding the doors, and you see the members of Fleet 74 who stayed behind waiting there as well.

You look to Chief, your second in command. “What is this about?” You demand in a whisper.

“You’ll see.” She mutters. You don’t like that.

The Fleet gets in to a close formation with yourself at the head. The doors open and you’re led inside. You nearly freeze in your tracks with the sight you’re met with.

Snoke is no more. Instead, sitting in a newly made, imposing throne, is Kylo Ren.

He wears his full uniform, hood pulled over his helmet adorned with the red veins that stick the shattered pieces back together coursing through the black metal. His Knights fan out on either side of the throne, still as statues with their weapons held tightly in their hands. Kylo himself is clearly trying to be every bit as intimidating as Snoke was, with his boots firmly planted on the ground, gloved hands clutching the arm rests, back straight as a board.

You kneel before he even gets the chance to tell you to because somehow, initiating it yourself is less humiliating. You hear the Fleet follow suit behind you. The cold, reflective metal of the floor bites into your knee as you stare at it.

There’s an unnerving silence and you feel his eyes on you. Then, “welcome back, Commander.”

You perk at the title, your head shooting up. “Commander?”

“It seems we’ve both gotten promotions.” Kylo drawls. “Snoke is dead, killed by the Jedi girl in his own ship.”

Liar.

He knows that you know, and he also knows that you know it’s better to keep your mouth firmly shut. The discussion you’ll have later should be interesting.

“I’ve taken his place, and I believe it’s most logical to make you my Commander. Fleet 74 will remain as it is. I’m sure you can handle the extra duties, correct?” He asks.

You dip your head again. “Yes, of course. I’m honored, Com-“ you clear your throat, correcting yourself, “Supreme Leader.” It feels wrong.

He taps a finger against the arm rest. “Then you’re dismissed. You and I will talk later.”

You nod. “Yes, sir.”

You rise with the Fleet, leading them out of the throne room with tense muscles. As soon as the doors close behind you, a few of them clap you on the back, congratulating you on the new position. You can’t share in the celebration, unable to ignore the itch in the back of your mind that you can’t quite get rid of.

What the hell happened while you were gone?

» ☆ «

You’re called back to the throne room an hour later.

You know you don’t have a choice in the matter, the message was very clear in that sense. You either go willingly or you’re sure someone will come along to drag you there. So you put away the report you were filing on your forcefully failed mission and push yourself from your chair. You walk down familiar halls, you try to ignore the tremor in your hands by clenching them into fists.

The path to the throne room is void of life, as if it’s a radioactive zone that nobody wants to enter. The description isn’t far off; it feels like you enter into a cloud of smog that chokes you when you get near and it sends a shiver down your spine. The Dark is heavy, threatening, and thick in the area. It parts for you when you pass through, ever so willing to obey your commands even if it doesn’t belong to you, but you feel it pressing in on every side. You take a deep breath when you see the doors leading into the throne room finally appear around a corner, looming like a beast waiting to pounce.

You push them open without pause, steeling yourself and the nerves that buzz beneath your skin. Your face is set with hard lines, your brows slightly drawn over your eyes and your lips positioned with a small downturn. Cold air and the sharp tang of polished metal hits you when you step inside, the click of your heels against the ever-so shiny floor the only sound.

You quickly take note of the fact that the room is empty. There are no Guards, no Stormtroopers, no Knights. Only him.

There is only Kylo Ren, sitting on a false throne.

You feel his eyes behind that mask trained on you as soon as you enter, crawling along your form and taking in every bit of you. He looks as he did before, his body cloaked in black robes with his hood framing his helmet, hiding it from the light. The throne isn’t the same as Snoke’s, this one has had to be built from scratch like many things after the utter obliteration of the Supremacy. This new chair has clearly taken inspiration given its size, but the energy surrounding it has changed. It isn’t as Dark as people would believe it to be.

You stop a healthy distance away from the dais, your perfect reflection along the floor mirroring your movements. “You requested me, Supreme Leader?” The title feels wrong and foreign on your tongue when referring to him and you struggle to hide the mockery in your tone, though he hears it all the same. There’s a seed of unease that burrows itself in your gut, eager to bloom into something bigger as you stare at the man you’ve worked with for most of your life. All of this was unexpected, and that’s where your problem lies. Kylo did this, he got himself to this position—and you don’t understand it.

His gloved hands brace against the armrests as he stands. You watch him intensely, your body feeling like it’s pulled taut as a bowstring, ready for something that you don’t know about yet. Your breathing stutters in your chest, it quickens with your heartbeat. He walks down those steps, one after another with the grace and power of a leader that knows his strength. There’s a brush against the shields in your mind, a familiar Force signature that’s taunting you, playing a game that you’re not interested in. You recoil from the touch, quickly forcing it away from you and out of your head. It can’t be trusted.

He reaches the same level you’re on but when he tries to take another inch of the space between you, you find your lightsaber in front of you. It screams to life, red beams of plasma coming from either end. It lets out a steady hum through the handle clenched in your palm—a threat, a promise. Kylo pauses where he is and you glare at him over the weapon, the red bouncing off the silver on his helmet.

“What did you do?” You demand, words spat from between your teeth.

“Don’t be stupid.” He sneers, deep voice crackling through the vocoder.

He moves towards you again, unfazed by the deadly lightsaber you have pointed directly at him. His pace is unrelenting and you move yourself backwards, eager to keep the same distance. You bare your teeth, twisting to follow him as he circles you like a predator. “What happened to Snoke?”

There’s a minuscule shake of his head as he observes you. “I told you-“

“Don’t fucking lie to me, Kylo. What did you do?” You say again. You want a straight answer, you want to know what the fuck happened when you were gone. You want to know what happened to the man you were beginning to trust. You remember the hunger he’d had in his eyes when you’d first met him, the insatiable desire for power and to prove himself to whoever dared doubt him. You wonder how that young man would feel seeing himself now like this, standing at the top of the galaxy. And you wonder how much farther he’ll go, if this is where you make the stand for your life because you’re a threat.

“I did what I had to.” He says coldly with nothing but conviction. “You’ll understand.” He got himself behind you, now forcing you to walk in the opposite direction to stay away from him. There’s ripples in the Force, the darkness swirling around you both. You feel him at the shields you keep up, but he’s not trying like he should be to get in. He’s basically just sitting there, occasionally reaching forward to remind you that he’s waiting. It’s a silent plea to be let in, but you won’t listen.

“Snoke was a worthless coward. He was incapable of fighting his own battles. Why do you feel such remorse for him when he’s the one who’s caused you so much pain?” Kylo demands, angry at the idea of you sympathizing with Snoke. You don’t. You never would. You’re glad to see that he’s gone, that you’ll never again have to experience dread when returning back to base. Snoke tortured you both but after knowing of him ever since you were a child, hearing him in your head, that seed of unease blooms into fear. What will happen now? What kind of leader could Kylo Ren possibly be?

You don’t have the chance to ponder it further. The backs of your legs hit the seat of the throne after having been forced up the dais by Kylo who now comes so close it causes you to fall unceremoniously into the chair. Your lightsaber is still active, poised at his throat even as he slams both hands on either armrest, caging you in. “I saved us,” he snarls, “and this is how you thank me?”

Even as Kylo’s presence threatens to rob you of breath, his darkness trying to choke you, you don’t cower. Your lightsaber reflects in your eyes in the same way it does his helmet, the heat from the plasma an uncomfortable presence between you. “How am I supposed to trust you?” You practically throw the words in his face, and you can see the way they make him recoil. It’s barely there, so very slight, but he draws back just a fraction of a centimeter and you hear the creak of his gloves as he grips the armrests tighter. It hurts him, it brings you satisfaction. You feel the flinch in the Force, betraying his true emotions to someone like you who’s more attuned than he realizes.

And then it’s gone. He brushes it aside and replaces that emotion with bristling anger. He reaches past your arm, past your lightsaber without a care, and he grips your chin. You want to thrash against him, want to fight against his hold; it would be so easy with the saber you have against his neck. But you can’t bring yourself to. You let him hold you there as he makes sure you’re looking at him, his fingers digging into your jaw.

“He was going to have me kill you.” Kylo says, tone quiet and blunt as he brings forth information he’d been holding inside of himself for so long, letting it consume him. “That’s why I sent you away.” Scenes flash in your mind, brought to you by Kylo so that you can see exactly what terrified him, to see what caused that sense of fear he had that day he gave you your mission.

Snoke would’ve had you both come to the throne room, and you would’ve thought nothing was amiss. But then he would reveal that he wished to further Kylo’s training after his recent failures, and that you were the key to making him stronger. That key was your own death. Snoke would admit as such, that he wants Kylo to kill you. You could feel it—the rage inside of you, the despair. Snoke had always favored Kylo over you because Kylo had a name behind him, he had a legacy. You were just a kid he picked up off a meaningless planet with a worthless family that had more potential than anyone could’ve ever dreamed. You’d surpassed Kylo in more than enough trials to prove that and yet… it didn’t matter. You were to die to push someone else forward.

“You would’ve fought,” Kylo murmurs, briefly breaking you from the vision, “but you would’ve lost.”

You see what he means. You turned on Snoke, you lashed out with everything you had in you as the Praetorian Guards advanced. You killed all of them, your will to live greater than their own strength, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough against Snoke, who forced you to your knees even as he struggled to do so from your protesting. You could’ve been something, you could’ve been more, but you were just fodder for the machine. You at least looked Kylo in the eyes with your chin held high when he lifted the hilt of his lightsaber. The vision cut out directly after that, and you find yourself heaving for breath.

Your own lightsaber is gone, taken from your grip by Kylo while you watched your death play out. The anger that boils in your gut almost feels misplaced because that future never came to pass, and it never will. Because of what Kylo did. He sent you on a convenient mission to the Outer Rim, as far away from Snoke as possible. Then he took his chances back here, trying to figure out some way to save you, and then the perfect opportunity was laid at his feet.

He keeps his hold on you, forcing you to watch through his own eyes and learn of what he’d gone through. Rey had shown up. The young Jedi girl actually had the gall to deliver herself right to her enemy. She definitely has guts, you’d give her that. She tried and failed to get Kylo to turn away from the Dark Side, trying to make him see the Light. But it didn’t work when his thoughts remained on you and keeping you from Snoke’s grasp. He was too focused on the fact that if the future he saw came to fruition, he knew he’d lose himself entirely. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

So he used Rey in his schemes, used her as a distraction of sorts. He used her to finally kill Snoke, to free himself and you from his reign. He couldn’t believe it actually worked, that Snoke was truly lying on the floor severed in half. It was like a weight was lifted off his shoulders, a ghoul finally banished from the corners of his mind. It was peaceful, but only for a moment. Him and Rey fought the Guards, and then he tried to get back his grandfather’s lightsaber once more to no avail. The memories from then on are bright flashes, fuzzy images, and explosions—nothing you can make out.

You’re pulled from Kylo’s memories, your jaw slack and your heart racing. It feels unreal, something you can’t believe because you weren’t here to witness it. But if you had been here, you would’ve died. “Now you see, don’t you? I told you that you’d understand. Yet you still can’t bring yourself to trust me. It just disgusts you, doesn’t it?” He says lowly, jabbing at you. “How could you ever bear to trust someone like me?” Someone who saved your life, he wants to add with his mocking tone.

There’s a moments pause where you stare at each other, unsure of what to think or say. You wish you could see him, could see his eyes and his face. Your nervous hand reaches up, attempting to get the latch on his helmet to take it off, but he stops you abruptly. He grips your wrist firmly in a leather-clad hand. You try and fumble for words. “Kylo, I-“

“No. You’ll address me as Supreme Leader. You need to get used to that title.” He snaps, forcing you all the way back into the throne as he comes even closer, his boot sliding between your own and forcing your legs apart. Your breath hitches when he takes both your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head so you can’t do anything stupid like trying to shove him off or drawing your lightsaber on him again.

The rise and fall of your chest quickens when cold air kisses the skin of your stomach, your layers shoved up by his free hand. The leather of his glove is rough as it skates along the newly exposed area on its way further down. His fingers catch on the waistband of your pants and they don’t hesitate to slip beneath the fabric. Your body feels like it’s been set on fire, your spine pressed so firmly against the back of the throne that there’s nowhere else for you to go, even as you try to scoot away from his burning touch.

You jolt when he grazes your clit, your teeth digging so sharply into your lip that you think you taste blood. He’s moves slow and with purpose, knowing exactly what he’s doing when a low groan rumbles from the back of your throat. You can tell by the way he’s so willing to taunt and tease, by the way his huge body covers your own and boxes you in, that this isn’t going to be good for you. The pad of his index finger traces slow, tortuous circles around your entrance while the heel of his palm makes occasional, light taps against your clit to keep you aware, to keep you anticipating.

“You love to say how much you hate me, and yet you’re always so eager for me.” Kylo spits, his voice guttural when it comes through his helmet, struggling to get past the vocoder as more than just lustful static. He can feel how wet you are, how easily the dark leather of his gloves slides between your folds. His finger finally plunges into your waiting cunt not a second later, a gasp rattling your body. It’s a welcome feeling, one that finally gives the throbbing of your walls something to focus on instead of just aching, empty space.

The thrusts of his finger are lazy, staying at the same easy pace even as you squirm. He’s more generous to your clit now at least, his palm staying firmly against it, providing the friction of rough leather and stitched seams with each in and out of your hole. You whine in pleasure when he finally adds a second finger, the thick digits filling you more completely. They go farther, sink deeper into your heat, finding and pressing against the spot you’re never able to get on your own. Your hands struggle against the hold he has on them, your attempts at freeing yourself as your body writhes having been unsuccessful. You know you’ll have bruises in the shapes of his fingers across your wrists from the strength of his grip.

Kylo enjoys seeing you like this, completely under his mercy and so, so very compliant. It’s rare when he gets what he wants from you—your submission—so he’s relishing in it now while it lasts. His enjoyment is obvious from the erection creating a tent in his pants. You have to avert your eyes from it, trying not to think of the way he’d use it, the way he’d ram into you again and again and fill you with his desire. You can feel your own mounting, a knot in your gut that grows bigger with his ministrations, threatening to come undone.

You’re almost there. You’re standing on the ledge, leaning over the side, ready to fall off into bliss. Just a few more thrusts of his fingers, a few more circles around your clit, and your orgasm will be washing through you. But it never comes despite the way he continues to fingerfuck you, despite the way you can feel it right there and so ready to burst. It’s like something’s blocking it on purpose, a dam built with the sole mission of denying your release. Your eyes snap open, finding Kylo. He huffs a laugh. “What, you think I’d let you cum that easily?” It pisses you off how much he’s liking this. “I’ve barely even started.”

You practically growl at him, lip drawing up to reveal your sharp teeth, but you know he just finds it amusing. Especially when you try to grind your hips down onto his fingers as if that’ll be enough to break the Force hold he has on your body. You can’t move much beyond that with the way he looms over the throne, his legs pinning yours and your hands still stuck above your head. An involuntary whimper rips from your throat when he moves his thumb to your clit, rubbing at it with more purpose and ferocity and a third finger managing to slip into your eager cunt. Your feet scrabble against the floor, trying to find some kind of purchase as the denial of an orgasm makes you dizzy. You try and swallow the drool pooling in your mouth, the breath of your panting fogging the metal panels on Kylo’s helmet from your proximity.

You give in to begging once tears prick your eyes. Your words are barely more than a whisper. “Please- please, Kylo, just-“

There’s a harsh thrust up into your cunt that has your words falling silent, instead replaced by a sharp, high pitched yelp. “What did I fucking tell you?” He demands, pressing even harder against that spot along your walls that has you seeing stars. You feel like you’re about to explode from the built up tension in your body. “What did I tell you to call me?”

You glare at him, your eyes full of all the fury you can’t manage to get out with your voice. You don’t want to say it. You don’t want to bend to this man who’s held such a ridiculous amount of power over you for what feels like your entire life. Your teeth grind together in defiance, even as your face burns. He hums at that and seems almost happy that you’re going against him. He does love a good fight.

His fingers stall and begin to slowly slide out of you, ready to leave you completely empty and with a simmering need that won’t be taken care of. You jolt, eyes widening. It’s in that moment you find you don’t actually give a fuck about defying him, you just need him to stay in you. “Supreme Leader!” You practically shout, so sudden it even startles yourself. Your next words are quieter, more restrained. “Supreme Leader, please..”

You moan in relief when his fingers take back their positions deep inside your cunt, the sounds of your slick sloshing around filling the empty throne room. “Good,” Kylo says roughly, clearly struggling himself. Your obedience is music to his ears and it does nothing to soothe the ache of his cock still restrained by his pants. It just makes it worse. “Say it again.”

You hate him. You’re probably going to kill him. “Supreme Leader, please-“ you have to choke back your humiliation and death threats, “please let me cum.”

This time Kylo groans, the desperate sound crackling through his helmet. He thrusts his fingers one more time, swiping his thumb along your clit, before he lets you go. The release is instant. Something akin to a scream comes from you with your orgasm, the world around you feeling like it’s shattering. You can barely breathe, pure pleasure wracking your body and sending lightning through your limbs. The dam finally broke, and it feels so fucking good. The unbearable pressure is gone, bliss washing through you like a wave from the ocean as you cum around his hand. “See how nice I am?” Kylo says with heavy breath, barely able to contain himself. His eyes are locked on to where his hand disappears into your pants; he can feel your cum pooling on his glove. “How well I reward you when you’re good?”

It’s all you can do to nod dumbly, too blissed out with your ears still ringing to really comprehend what he’s saying. You don’t resist when your pants are pulled off, your underwear entirely soaked through and baring your sensitive, wet cunt to the cold air. You shiver. Your cloak is tossed aside, your top layers undone to reveal your upper body. You’re barely more than a rag doll when Kylo braces an arm against your back, using it to scoop you out of the throne so he can take your spot. His zipper is pulled down, his boxers lowered so his cock is finally freed, painfully erect and dribbling precum.

He sinks you down to the hilt without hesitation. All the air is punched from your lungs, your body tensing as his length fills you to capacity. Kylo’s appreciative groan is loud and throaty, his fingers digging bruises into your hips. You have to pause for a moment to adjust to the sudden intrusion, feeling so full it’s like you’re not allowed to breathe. Your lips are parted, your nails digging into the ribbed sleeves on his forearms for purchase. His body is warm and muscular beneath your hands.

You struggle to move, still feeling the after effects of your orgasm, your limbs weak and trembling. Kylo makes no effort to help you, his helmet instead tilted up towards you expectantly. “If you want it you’ll have to work for it, Commander.” He says with some twisted amusement. You briefly consider how easy it’d be to reach forward and wring his neck.

But you put that aside, swallowing your broken pride. You unfortunately want his cock more than that. The first thrust is bliss, pleasure filled shocks coursing through you like a live wire. You and Kylo moan in tandem, both of you finally getting some form of relief. Your movements are slow at first, trying desperately to get used to the feeling of his cock splitting you open. His hands travel up your sides, his left glove still soaked in your juices and leaving a trail along your skin. He finds your breasts, encompassing them with large, warm palms that have your head tilting back and your eyes closing. He pinches your stiffened nipples between his fingers, rolling them experimentally as you whine and arch into his touch. Your pace on his cock is steady now, finally having figured out a rhythm.

“Touch yourself.” Kylo orders suddenly, words sounding choked.

Your gaze snaps to him, brows furrowing slightly. “What?”

“Touch yourself.” He snaps again. “If you’re smart, you’ll listen to what I say.”

You glower, your face burning even hotter. He knows you don’t enjoy doing it, which is giving him all the more reason to make you. You hesitate, both not wanting to do as he demands and also not wanting to see whatever repercussions will come if you don’t. Your shaking fingers reach down and find your clit, the bud still sensitive and aching from Kylo’s earlier abuse. Your lip is between your teeth, trying to keep back your moans as you run circles over your clit. The stimulation quickly builds and you can feel that familiar knot forming in your gut again.

Kylo’s helmet tilts up and you can feel his eyes on you. You try not to meet them. “You look pretty like this, you know? Finally fucking listening to me.” He rumbles, giving your nipple a particularly hard pinch and making you writhe in his grip. “Say my name.”

You try to ignore him, ignore his stupid power trip and ego boost. But then he makes his move—one hand comes down to grip your wrist and the other is firm on your hip, completely stalling your movements and messing up your concentration. Your climax steadily begins to fade, a loud and frustrated groan coming from you. “This is stupid.” You snarl at him.

He doesn’t back down. “Say it.”

A harsh breath blows through your nose. You move your head so you can look past him, not wanting to admit that this is what he’s bringing you to. “Supreme Leader.” You mutter, your hips shifting to try and get friction with his cock still hard inside your cunt. He puts a stop to that quickly with a harsh squeeze.

Kylo lets go of your wrist to instead grab your chin, forcing you to look at him. “Again.”

“Supreme Leader.” You grit out.

“One more time.”

You grab his forearm, your nails digging deep enough and with such fury that they’ll leave marks. It’s the least you can do. “Supreme Leader.”

“Good girl.” He murmurs, thumb running along your lower lip. You want nothing more than to sink your teeth into it until you taste blood. “You’ve done so well.”

His following thrust up into you has you forgetting what insult you were going to say. Both of his hands rest on your hips now, keeping you steady as he fucks you mercilessly. You bend forward, gripping his shoulders as some kind of anchor, punctuated moans spilling endlessly from your mouth. His helmet is downturned, the forehead of it resting against your sternum as he watches his cock disappear inside of your cunt, slick smearing along the front of his pants. He uses his Force to swirl against your clit, creating a sort of buzzing sensation that quickly brings that knot back and sets your blood ablaze.

“A commander reduced to a fucking cocksleeve. So good for my dick, aren’t you?” He breathes, words made even more gravelly by his vocoder. “Fuck.” You can only nod along and whimper, your brain fucked into useless mush.

You grip him tighter when your second orgasm finally bursts, your walls spasming around his cock and making him curse even louder. Cum gushes from you, dripping along your folds and making a further mess of Kylo’s pants. You cry out when he keeps thrusting into you, everything throbbing and overly sensitive for his harsh pace. You can’t think straight, you can only dig your teeth into the padded armor of his shoulder as tears well and threaten to fall.

His cock twitches, his hips stuttering. He gets in a few more thrusts before he’s cumming at last, a slew of cusses mixed with grunts and groans falling from his mouth. You hum in pleasure when you feel his warm spend filling your cunt to the brim, effectively coating your walls white.

Neither of you can move for a couple of minutes after. You don’t know how long you sit there for, your body finally relaxing and your eyes closing. He doesn’t pull out, his cock softening inside you and making sure you stay plugged full of his cum. You’re tempted to fall asleep before Kylo’s hands are leaving your hips and instead coming up to undo the latches on his helmet. There’s a hiss of air as the mechanisms slide out of place and he’s able to take it off. His black hair falls around his face, sweat drenching the ends.

You struggle to lift yourself up, but you want to see him. Your hands shake from exhaustion when they reach forward, taking his cheeks in your palms. He looks so tired. His sigh tickles your skin, his eyes closing at your touch. He seems significantly more relaxed now, his body letting go of its tension and his Force signature becoming something calmer. You can feel the weight shift as he leans into your right hand. His arms circle around your back, somehow pulling you even closer.

He swallows before speaking. “I was… afraid.” He mutters. “Afraid without you here… and yet I had to do it. Otherwise I’d lose you.”

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips gentle as they brush along your collarbone. “I was afraid that I would fail. That it would’ve all been for nothing.” He continues. He sounds so quiet, quieter than you’ve heard him in a while. You run your fingers through his hair. “I just… I’m glad I sent you away.”

“Me too.” You mumble, your eyes trained on the back wall as your mind runs. You’re finally coming to terms with the fact that your death had almost been set in stone at the hands of Snoke. Coming to terms with the fact that your lifelong teacher was going to have you executed by his star pupil, and the fact that Kylo decided to save you and possibly get himself killed instead. The fact he did everything he could to make sure you wouldn’t come back to a death sentence. You swallow thickly. “Thank you.”

He stills at those words. They’re the last thing he expected to hear from you and it makes him uneasy. He doesn’t say anything, and that’s okay. You know he can’t. Besides, it’s easy to gather what he wants to say from his Force in this moment of vulnerability. An apology is at the forefront; an apology for taking things out on you again. He doesn’t regret it, but he didn’t mean for it to happen. Then underneath that there’s longing that’s still lingering from when you were gone. He wanted nothing more than to see you, to know you were okay. He’s more than happy to have you in his arms now.

You pull yourself out of his thoughts, blowing out a tired sigh and resting your head on his shoulder. He wraps his cape around you to protect your mostly-naked form from the chill of the throne room, his warmth bleeding into you. You’re content to just sit here in his lap, and he seems content to let you. He relaxes back into the throne, cradling you against him with his soft breathing ruffling the hairs on the top of your head.

You’re together. You’re alive. That’s all you need in this moment.

[starry-bi-sky]

my body's aching like a knock-down drag-out

and my poor heart is an open wound A Childhood Friends Au snippet that very briefly delves into Danny's life post-accident. CW: Mild Mentions of Blood, Violence, VERY mild gore ig. Danny briefly recalls getting impaled during a fight.

------------

What they don't tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it can hurt. That it can hurt more than when you were alive. That when you die, the emotions you die with stick with you like a leech that just won't let go. That emotions are ugly little thorns that stick their barbs into you and grow beneath your skin; or, at least, whatever’s left of it. 

Danny is familiar with anger. It kept him warm in Gotham, when his parents weren't home from work and he and Jason were crowding Crime Alley with their presence. It kept him warm in Amity, when the fresh sting of moving was still needling into his heart and he wanted nothing more than to rip and tear into the closest person next to him.

He's familiar with violence. With fights. With death. He's seen people die in Crime Alley probably every day. From overdose, from gunshots, from stab wounds; anything that can kill, rest assured he's seen it. He's familiar with getting his own knuckles rough and bloody when other kids turn and bare their teeth at him and Jason; they're all just starving dogs stuck in a fighting pit, primed and ready to rip out each other's throats. 

Black eyes, stomped hands, bloody noses. You name it; he’s had it. Gotham is paved with the blood of her children, and Danny likes to imagine that when he was born, the doctors handed his mother a file and told her; “Take it. He’s going to need it for his teeth.” 

Danny’s mom (and dad, for that matter) was too busy trying to keep him and Jazz fed, so Danny stole the file from her drawer with Jazz’s help, and did it himself.  

He’s familiar with anger, he thought he was getting better at it these days. It doesn’t come to him as easily as it did before. Of course, that was before Jason died. 

Danny is less familiar with grief. Caring kills and Gotham kills the caring, so Danny cares very little about other people. Or he tries to. But grief hurts. His grief hurts. It hurts too much. It hurts like a bug trying to crawl out of his chest; like a rat chewing a hole through his heart. Some days he wants to dig his hands into his hair and split himself down the middle. Some days he just wants to scream. 

He’s dead. He’s dead. He’s dead. 

He wants the whole city to hear him wailing, some days. It sticks itself in the back of his throat like bile, and Danny is one wrong retch away from letting it loose. It sticks in his lungs like all the tar he’s smoked in since he was nine. It pushes and aches at his temples, in his head, like his brain is trying to swell out of his skull. His thoughts becoming so loud they threaten to commandeer his tongue.  

He has no mouth, but he must scream. 

Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it hurts. That it hurts more than when you were alive. Something they don’t tell you about being dead is that it’s violent. That it’s bloody. Or as bloody as it can be when everyone has no blood. 

Another thing they don’t tell you about being dead, is that it’s a lot like Gotham that way.

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies forget death itself. Blood comes easy, like water, and teeth are encouraged. Bring your own fangs to the fight. Dying is something you can just walk off. 

Danny’s been dead for three months. He can’t say he’s been walking it off easy. He’s perfected the art of turning his nails into claws since his heart was still beating, but he can’t say he’s perfected fighting other ghosts. 

Scrappy is just not enough. 

He feels like he’s back in Gotham again. Back in her death-shroud alleyways, fighting someone bigger than him. But there’s no Jason to watch his back, and Danny has to get himself out of there alone. Or he might just not get up at all. 

Black eyes, busted lips. It’s familiar to him like an old scent, Danny isn’t quite sure that he’s missed it. It’s more familiar than his fights with Dash. 

But there’s no one else who can do it but him. Not Sam, not Tucker. He can’t lose them too. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t. His heart can’t take another break, he already feels like he’s going insane. 

With no threat of death, Danny’s enemies fight like death themself. He learns why when Technus puts a street sign through his stomach one day. It pins him to the asphalt like a moth pinned by its wings. 

Danny claws at the metal like how an animal caught in a trap chews off its leg, and every move is blinding pain. He thinks he was howling, but it’s hard to tell. He couldn’t recognize the sound of his voice. 

He bleeds green. It mixes in black with the pitch blackhole in his heart, which throbs and twists and cries in time with his reckless panic. The finger-choking terror of dying again strangles out the air he doesn’t need. His blood evaporates, only to reabsorb into him. It just bleeds out again, cycling like a snake eating its own tail. 

Danny breaks his nails clawing at the metal, and eventually gets it in his mind to pull it out. So he does, and the end drips ectoplasm green as he gets to his feet. In red-vision, Danny sends the sign back with snarling, vicious fervor. The pain is irrelevant in his rage.

Only after the fight does the hole the pole left start to close. Danny doesn’t shift human until it’s gone. Unlike other injuries, a scar stays behind. Ugly; mottled, it aches for a week with every twist and stretch his body makes. He hates it. 

Being dead is agony. 

Every part of him is in pain. Every step, every word he speaks, everything he does, it is prerequisite with pain. The body is temporary, but the soul is forever, and death has carved into it with its freezing green hands and left him with never-ending heartache. It has torn from him and stolen what of him it could, and in return it’s left him with sorrow. 

His pain is his grief, and he’s sobbed in the safety of his room more times than he can count. It’s still as fresh as the day he heard the news of Jason’s death. He knows, instinctively, that it will stay fresh forever. 

In his room, Danny shoves his hands over his mouth and shrieks in whatever, muffled way he can into his pillow. It’s not enough. It’s never enough. He needs to be louder. He needs to be heard. He refuses to be. 

Being dead hurts. 

[longlivedelusion]

In The Heat of the Moment

A little drabble cause my friends had a small home rave today and there was a hottie there and let's just say it gave me inspo for a Bucky smut? Not really smut. Spice? lmao.

So here we are. Not proofread, wrote this in my phone and am just posting it as is. Will maybe review later idk.

Summary: club time with the Avengers and you're a horny bih who wants Bucky, but Bucky doesn't give you the time of day. Or so you think. No use of Y/N.

Warnings: minors DNI, mentions of oral and general sexual encounters, enter at your discretion cause this is just me and my little horny ass wanting a club moment😭 No use of Y/N

Enjoy!

Masterlist

~~~~~

The music was loud where we were, I couldn't hear anything but the beat pounding as a sea of strangers swirled around me.

The team had all decided on a night out, something to take the edge off after a particularly hard mission. But being the Avengers, well... There's always someone somewhere taking photos or gawking. We couldn't just, be.

That's until a certain God of Mischief had the great idea of using his magic to disguise us. We could still see eachother as we were, but everyone else saw just a bunch of random strangers. No Captain America, no Thor, no Bucky Barnes.

So we came to one of Nat's favourite spots, an underground techno club on the industrial side of the city that was exactly what we all needed.

Dark. Loud music. Drinks. No thoughts, just our bodies, the sound and everything else in between. Whatever we needed to let off some steam.

But as much as dancing was doing wonders, my body slick with sweat as ran my hands up past my waist, body bouncing in tune with the sound, I wanted more. Needed more.

And there was only one man who I wanted to give it to me. Bucky fucking Barnes. But unfortunately, said man sat by the bar and had never really given me the time of day outside of normal mission stuff. We were great colleagues, but fuck if I didn't want him to use all that focus, all that drive he had when it came to pounding his enemies to focus it on pounding into me.

So I just danced, eyes trying and failing to not meet the corner of the bar where I knew he was. Sipping his drink as he slowly bounced to the music, Steve right beside him as they talked about something. I didn't let my eyes linger long enough to make out what they were even looking at.

So I kept dancing, closing my eyes and feeling the way the music traveled over me. Imagining it was Bucky's hands instead. Letting my breath get a little bit heavier as I did.

I suddenly felt hands at my waist, unfamiliar ones that made me turn suddenly. Some random guy had come up, a small grin on his face as he bounced along with me. I raised my brow a second, definitely not in the mood for some random guy's attention no matter how horny I . might've been. I was ready to move him aside before I felt a large presence behind me.

"Get the fuck off her." I heard Bucky say, his voice somehow just clear enough over the loudness of the club.

I saw the man retreat with his hands up, eyes wide as he saw the predatory glance towards him. While he backed up, I turned towards Bucky, already frowning. "I could've handled that you know."

He crossed his arms, his body close.

Closer than usual.

"Yeah, I'm sure. But just wanted to make sure you were alright. S'all. " He watched me, an anger in his eyes usually reserved for special moments in battle - moments with HYDRA agents.

Before he could step away, I grabbed his arm. "Wait," I said. "Stay. Dance."

He tries to protest, but I got closer to his body now, slowly bouncing to the beat as he stilled, eyes wide. "Please." I breathed out, eyes gazing up at him. I don't know if was the darkness, the aninimoty of the night, the way my body tingled at his nearness, but I was gonna try to go for it. Needed to. I couldn't just sit around pining and feeling the way I did and not do shit about it. I was an Avenger for gods sake -- I could flirt.

"Alright." I heard him say, taking me out of my trance as his hand snaked around my waist slowly, hesitantly. His touch was featherlight, like he was afraid of going too far as he matched the rhythm with me.

I started to run my fingers up his arms, curious, exploratory. To see if he was just being polite with this or if there could be something more. I felt his grip tighten just a hint before he pulled me in closer, his head against mine as his mouth grazed past my ear, his breath hot against me.

We moved like that a while, bodies shifting to the music, my hands growing bolder across his shoulders, his back, his hair. I let my head fall back as he held me, closing my eyes as I let the feeling overwhelm me. The feeling of him, the sound, the lights. All overwhelming me in the most delicious way.

I felt his movements stutter, opening my eyes again to see his own reflected back at me -- pupils blown and mouth partially opened as I watched him take me in. A hunger and desperation in his eyes that I knew well, because I knew it was reflected right back at him.

I tentatively reached for his jaw, thumbs grazing over his lips as he sucked in a breath. My logical brain decided to show up for a split second then -- I was being careless, our team was close by and his was my coworker, this was so public and stupid and-

He was leaning in. His mouth so close to mine as his eyes took me in, "Tell me to stop." He said, lips just hovering mine. Waiting. Teasing.

My mind stilled. "Please," was all I could breathe out.

The next moment I was on fire, his lips quenching a thirst I'd been settling in for the months since I'd known him. A thirst I thought would never be satiated. I'd craved, so desperately, this man for so long and in this moment, his lips on mine, I knew. I'd never want them to leave again.

I moved my body to his, pressed so deeply into him that I felt each crevice and movement of his against mine. I felt him shift, his clear arousal now pressed against my thigh. I moaned into his mouth, his tongue slipping past and grazing over mine.

I was in hell, in the most blissful, heavenly pits of hell there was because god this man could fucking kiss. And I don't think I would ever want to kiss anyone again after this. I couldn't.

His hands started to grow more confident, his touch hungry as if he could feel the fire too, like we were two torches dancing together desperate for more oxygen.

I pulled away, hands trailing down his body as I took him in. "Bucky, I need you." I practically whined. I'd never whined in my life, but right now I could care less. I needed this man, religiously.

"Fuck," his grip tightened on my body, pressing me even harder into him. "Where, how?" He started looking around, assessing the situation like this was one of our missions.

I grabbed his jaw and pulled his gaze back to me, leaning up and over to his ear. "Bathroom on the right. Follow behind me but don't make it too obvious. I'll be inside waiting for you." I pulled back just enough so I could see his face, "I'll be the one on my knees."

I heard the intake of breath before I could register what happened next. His lips crashing into mine as he groaned into my mouth, taking me rougher than before. He pulled back panting, his body looking like it was fighting a war to do so, and he gave me a long look that had me nearly buckle my knees.

"You've got 5 minutes. And you better be ready for me 'cause that mouth isn't the only thing getting worshipped tonight doll."

He pulled off, pushing me forward towards the bathroom. He stood there, arms crossed as he assessed me from behind.

God was I in for it.

Part Two

[anlian-aishang]

Levi with an (Episodically) Depressed S/O

Tags: levi x reader, angst, hurt-comfort, gn!reader Word count: 900

Levi invites you to shower with him, making the obstacle less daunting and much more attractive. In his black robe, leaning on your bedroom door, two towels slung over his arm indicate the knowledge that you will say yes and accompany him. The way that he looks, the low plea in his voice, how could you say no? 

It would be more accurate to say that he was bathing you, but he does not phrase it that way. Instead, he is humble, letting his actions speak louder than words. He does not tell you that he will shampoo your matted hair, does not flaunt how deliberately he exfoliates your limbs, he just does them for you. Some days, even just tipping the bottle or pumping some soap into your hand can seem mountainous. On those days, he sees those activities not as tasks, but as privileges. It is his honor to be the one looking after you in your most dire time. He would always prefer someone to take care of rather than someone to miss. 

Showering together not only ensures that you stay clean, but his company prevents you from those timeless sessions sat on the tile floor. At the moment you look refreshed but before you become sleepy, he jerks the handle to the left and halts the devastatingly relaxing rain. 

Always, your clean clothes are already folded atop the bathroom counter, waiting for you. Some times, you fail to remember that you did not put them there. Other times, you notice the sign of his relentless consideration, but are artificially silenced from expressing your gratitude. No matter in his mind. You are clean, clothed, and out of bed, and that’s already better than you were before. 

Without one complaint, Levi scoops your dampened towel and old clothes from the wet bathroom floor and drops them in the hamper for you. He has seen the piles that can amass, and if it were anyone else in any other circumstance, the clean freak would be quick to chastise, but any sight or thought of you disintegrates any instinct to discipline. You are sat in the living room, admiring the ivy that swirls around the balcony’s posts, thumbing the petals of the bouquet vased on the coffee table. White-gold rays move just a tad west to cast your figure in therapeutic light. You’re too tired to move away from the sun, and for once, Levi finds your fatigue favorable. As the morning temperature rises, he can see that your resting smile does as well. 

While you are entranced with the scenes of summer, Levi swiftly searches for and alleviates the areas you have left neglected. He dumps your sock drawer upside down and mends the pairs that you have discarded as singles. In your closet, he finds the clean pile and dirty pile and either folds it or washes it accordingly. Under your bed, on your nightstand, in your bedside drawer, he discovers the dirty dishes that have been missing the sink and returns them to their proper place. 

Between those tasks, he rolls his shoulders back or rubs the side of his neck and allows himself to sigh. It is difficult - not to bandage these tiny wounds - but to see the harsh bruises left by the illness. Sure, you were forgetful, and not quite as tidy as he was, but still - the mounds of laundry, hidden dirty dishes - this wasn’t like you. Levi lives for your joy - not the superficial smile, your peace - not the misleading silence. He lives for you - in sickness and in health. The times you forget your worth, that is when he whispers it in your ear. When the world is overwhelming you, he lets his touch communicate it. 

Once your space is in order, he can start to work on getting you to leave it. Rather than annoying reminders or obligations, he mindfully manipulates the steps of treatment into desirable invitations. Rather than Do you want to… or Would you like to…, his proposals are statements, taking the responsibility out of your hands. Concerts in the park this afternoon. Let’s go to the farmers market. Apple orchard just opened.

Or even less far away. 

Plants look thirsty, water them with me? Rain just cleared, read on the porch with me? Full moon tonight, stargaze with me?

To you, with me frames the activities, frames your presence as favors for him, and even in your lowest state, you are always keen to help him with anything. To Levi, it is no framing, your relationship is the greatest gift that fate has bestowed on him, and he treats you as such. It is in his selfless actions and his careful words, but it is more than that, traits you can’t quite categorize. The near flat, subtle smile you wake up to in the morning. The tight yet painless combs through your hair that leave you feeling divine. The low, calming timbre of his voice, decorated with a tender tone that he reserves for you. 

Even before the haze you’re in now, you’ve never been able to label those qualities of his, and instead settled: it’s just who he is. 

Like the sentiment that motivates his care: it’s what you deserve. 

// masterlist //

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 26 - Overstimulation

Gaz x Soap - 1.6k (on ao3)

summary: Johnny and Kyle get a little carried away on a night out. (Johnny POV)

cw: poly 141, public sex (they don't get caught by anyone else but ghost and price watch them), making out, teasing degradation, some super light puppy play (in the way ghost talks to soap and gaz)

note: i didn't notice until i finished but this is... not really overstimulation. but it's what you're getting! sorry (not really)

Soap’s always loved to make out with Gaz. He matches Soap’s energy perfectly, completely willing to pull when Johnny pushes, to bite back when he gets a bit worked up. Johnny’s so used to always being the more enthusiastic partner, having someone to match his energy is almost relieving.

It’s also addictive. Half the time they hook up, they never get any further than some heavy petting, instead just laying with each other and making out for hours on end. Sometimes they get off - clumsy hands, humping against each other’s hips or thighs or stomachs - but sometimes the act is just the kissing. It’s enough, with Gaz.

But sometimes it feels almost like too much.

Sitting in an old leather booth in a dive bar, Soap’s legs tangled with Kyle’s while they make out, it feels like too much. The music is so loud that it’s difficult to hear someone at your own table speaking, there’s a thick cloud of smoke floating over that smells suspiciously like weed, and Johnny can feel Ghost staring at them. (It doesn’t bother him - Ghost is the perfect voyeur to Soap’s exhibitionist.)

The constant presence of everything else floats away as Johnny’s tongue tangles with Kyle’s. The other man tastes like the tequila shots they’d taken, the taste passing from one mouth to the other. Where Soap is all nipping kisses, trying to stick his tongue as far down Gaz’s throat as he can, Gaz is focused on the touch of it all, hands wandering over Johnny’s chest while he tangles their tongue together.

Johnny hitches a leg over Kyle’s lap, so that his knee is pressed up against his half-hard cock, and his own length is pressed to Gaz’s side. When he wraps his arms around Kyle’s waist, the other’s going around his neck, they’re both in the perfect position to grind against each other.

And oh it feels good to grind against the hard muscle of Kyle’s side, to lean his weight onto the other man and feel himself tugged closer. Gaz whimpers into his mouth when Soap’s knee shifts further forward, his hips beginning to rock into the pressure.

“Jesus,” Soap hears Ghost murmur, the sound of his glass being set down loud despite all the noise. He can’t help but smirk into his kiss, feels Kyle reciprocate. 

He spares a moment to glance over his shoulder at Simon, Gaz’s lips immediately going to his neck. “Jealous, sir?”

Ghost snorts, shaking his head dismissively as he crosses his arms. “Jealous of what, those sloppy kisses? Jealous of two pups humpin’ each other? I could have each of you ridin’ my boots with just a look, there’s nothin’ to be jealous of.”

Soap smirks, goes to bite out something about Ghost’s tone betraying him when Gaz grabs him by the nape of his neck, tugging their mouths back together.

“Gonna - get - us - in - trouble,” he whispers between nipping kisses, sharp spikes of pleasure-pain left against Johnny’s bottom lip, then the soothing stroke of his tongue. “Not lettin’ you take me down with you, MacTavish.”

Johnny’s laugh is a little loud for such close proximity, and Kyle presses their lips together to muffle him.

They stay like that for several long moments - humping each other, smiling into the kiss. They end up more bumping teeth and biting at each other than kissing, both lips stinging at the roughening treatment. 

It’s fun to play with his fellow sergeant like this, to take knowing that Gaz will give. Ghost and Price are so commanding, always so in control of what’s happening, and Soap loves submitting to that but he also loves the reprieve of a casual kiss with Kyle. 

His hips work a bit faster at Gaz’s hip as the low simmering in his gut grows warmer and warmer. The desire to get off is becoming a substantial need, driving him closer and closer to the other man. He levers himself up a bit more, so he’s fully sitting over Kyle’s thigh, and moves his arms up so he can scratch at the man’s back.

Gaz grunts, hips bucking up into Johnny’s knee as he arcs his back further into the sting of nails down his back. His arms stay around Soap’s neck, tugging him further down so there’s hardly an inch of space between their bodies.

It’s good to get off like this. A slow growing pleasure controlled only by them, no waiting (or begging) for permission, an orgasm controlled just by them. The freedom is rare, and Soap savors it as much as he savors the taste of Gaz’s tongue.

He doesn’t notice when Price comes back to the table with a fresh round of drinks, only clueing in to the man’s presence when he speaks.

“They’re still going at it?”

A grunt from Simon. “Think they’re almost finished.”

Price sighs, and Kyle and Johnny share a smile with each other. There’s nothing quite like putting out the Captain, and the casual way he had spoken leaves both of them even hornier. 

Soap is the first to come, like he almost always is when he’s allowed to control his own orgasms. One is rarely enough for him with his sex drive as high as it is, and he already knows he’s got a few more in him as he gets himself off against Kyle.

His climax is slow, a building thing coming from his gut and moving through him in long waves. It hardly even feels like an orgasm, more like strong waves of pleasure that nearly bowl him over. If his boxers didn’t get uncomfortably wet, he might have thought he was just exceptionally horny.

But he shudders through the peak, panting into Gaz’s mouth and leaving the other man to do most of the work as he humped erratically, hips moving on instinct alone.

He has enough sense to know better than to leave Kyle hanging, so he lets his arms drop to the man’s waist and sneaks his hands up the white shirt he’d worn. He tries to press his knee further into Gaz’s movements, stroking over his chest.

It’s the pinch to his nipple that finally gets him, Soap’s short nails digging in and giving him just enough pain to get off. Johnny pulls back enough to watch Gaz’s eyes go wide, watch him bite his lip to hold back a moan (even though someone has surely noticed what they’re doing). Soap is quick to lean in and return Gaz’s favor from before, loving their lips together to quiet his moans.

Johnny recovers before Gaz does. Slowly but surely he starts to shift against the man’s thigh, his cock pushing uncomfortably at his now soaked underwear. There’s an element of humiliation that comes with humping your friend with cum filled boxers, and that only makes Johnny more eager.

“Soap,” Gaz moans, letting his forehead fall forward to Johnny’s forehead and trying to move his own hips away from the pressure Johnny’s hadn’t pulled away. “Too much, too soon.”

“Nah,” Soap pants, settling into a faster rhythm now, working himself up much more quickly. “Nah, c’mon, feels good.”

Gaz shakes his head, grunting. “No, mate, it’s- fuck, ouch, how are you not too sensitive?”

Johnny’s orgasm comes far quicker, like a tidal wave in the distance that he watches grow closer and closer. He’s nearly breathless as he falls forward a bit, giving more of his weight to Kyle and almost kneeling on top of his groin. “Feels, fuck, feels so good… you don’t wanna feel good too? Come on, mate.”

Johnny reaches down, pressing a hand roughly down on Kyle’s crotch. The other man yelps spine going straight as he tries to squirm away.

“Johnny! Stop, stop, that- ow, motherfucker!”

Soap would laugh if he wasn’t riding the edge himself, pressing his entire weight into Gaz’s body, hips working in quick little thrusts. He can feel himself throbbing, grits his teeth when he can practically taste the orgasm.

Gaz tries to get revenge by gripping Johnny’s cock through his pants with a (frankly unreasonably) tight hold, a sharp squeeze.

The jokes on him though - the spike of pain is what gets Johnny off.

He settles a bit more after the second orgasm, the cum becoming a truly horrendous discomfort in his boxers, but worth it for the pleasure cooling his bones. He slumps against Gaz until the other man shoves him off, legs shaking slightly.

“That was quite the show,” Price rumbles, and Soap smiles with his eyes still closed, basking. “Think everyone else enjoyed it?”

Ghost grunts. “How could they not? Two of them moanin’ like that, damn lucky we didn’t get kicked out.”

That startles a laugh from Soap, the playful degradation a pleasant familiarity from Ghost. He blinks open a bit blearily, makes eye contact with the masked man. “Couldn’t have been too loud, what with him tryin’ to suffocate me.”

Gaz makes an offended noise, kicking the side of Johnny’s leg. “Shut it. You nearly had me choking on your tongue.”

There are soft sounds of amusement from all of the men, and Price slides a try with four shot glasses towards the sergeants once they all calm.

“Your tequila, boys. Should give you enough energy for another show.”

Johnny can’t help but smirk when he and Kyle make eye-contact, both wearing matching expressions. If Price is already trying to get them drunk, it’s going to be a long night.

He grins as he downs the first shot, already looking forward to it.

[spirk-trek]

headcanon: chekov gets jim to play him in chess and quickly loses despite being a decent player, but he somehow convinces him to let him keep trying until he wins

fast forward a year or so, jim is stuck in sickbay with 84 broken bones or whatever and in comes chekov, board tucked under his arm for their weekly match because "you did not think i would be letting you off ze hook, did you keptin? a promise ees a promise"

[ivegotyourbackbuddie]

Ao3 Link because this one is a bit long <3

Buck ducks his head on his way into the station, hoping that it's one of those days where everyone else is too caught up in their own stuff to notice that he’s kind of spiraling.

It's not that he wants everyone to be going through stuff. And really, thinking that might bring it into existence, and the 118 already feels cursed enough as is. So, Buck really doesn't want anyone to be dealing with emotional baggage on the same level as what he's dealing with but-

"You alright?" Bobby asks as he turns off the stove, pulling everyone's attention toward Buck which is exactly what he doesn't need right now.

"Fine. Just thinking," Buck replies easily, ignoring the way Eddie is leveling him with an I know you're lying because you're a worse liar than Christopher look.

Before Eddie can say anything, Chimney points a piece of bacon at him and chimes in, "Uh oh. That's dangerous."

"What's more dangerous are the thoughts he isn't willing to share with the class," Hen says, eyebrows raised in an almost accusatory way. "So, what aren't you telling us?"

Buck shakes his head with a frown. "Nothing," he states, taking a place at the table and shoveling food on his plate, hoping it's the end of this conversation.

Eddie leans over and lowers his voice to ask, "You're not having nightmares again, are you?"

"No," Buck replies honestly, although after the events of last night, he just might.

"Maddie hasn't said anything, so it's not family related,'' Chimney very unhelpfully adds.

"Are you and Tommy okay?" Hen asks.

The grimace is entirely involuntary.

"Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner!" Chimney says with a laugh which dies down quickly when Bobby gives him a look.

"What happened?" Hen questions softly.

Bobby takes the opportunity to clear his throat. "Buck, you don't have to answer any of their questions if you don't want to, after all, we are all at work."

"When has that stopped anyone before?" Chimney asks, getting a swift kick in the shin by Hen in response.

The tiniest bit of relief floods his system when everyone stops pressing and moves on. Well, besides the occasional lingering glance of curiosity, they mostly move on. But the smallest part of Buck wishes they would press on because he has to tell someone, and while they are some of the nosiest people he's ever met, they're also family.

"I called Tommy the wrong name last night!" Buck blurts out.

Everyone stops mid-conversation to look at him.

"I called him the wrong name... and he left."

The amusement on Hen's face slips right off as she puts a hand over Buck's. "Oh, Buck."

Eddie swallows his food audibly before gently asking, "Left as in..."

Buck glances his way, taking in the soft sympathy in Eddie's eyes. "Left the apartment with a quick goodbye saying he needed time to think about things, and he hasn't talked to me since. It's been twelve hours."

"That's not too bad. What we really need to know is what name you called him. Then we can figure out the damage. And hey, I've had many girls call me the wrong name, and the longest I waited was maybe a day before speaking to them again," Chimney says.

"I don't think you're the best person to be giving advice about this," Bobby says with his ever-present small smile.

"Hey, I'm married now! I think I'm doing pretty great."

Bobby turns his attention back to Buck. "Hey, kid. We've all been there, okay? You're still in the early stages of this relationship, and it's natural to revert to old tendencies - including calling someone the wrong name. Hell, I've called Athena my first wife's name before; there's nothing to be ashamed of."

Buck shakes his head and stares down at the table. "But it was... really bad this time."

"This time?" Ravi asks in disbelief, only to be ignored as Buck continues.

"He didn't even look mad. He just looked... disappointed. And I thought it was something we could laugh off because really it was just a slip of the tongue! I mean, I didn't mean to call him 'Bobby!'"

An eerie silence settles in the station as everyone takes in what was said.

Buck tries to defend himself with a quick, "Uh-" But is immediately cut off by the bell going off.

On the way to the scene, everyone glances at Buck who finally says, "Okay, so Tommy has a daddy kink."

"Yeah, I could've gone my whole life without knowing that," Chimney sighs.

"And!" Buck continues, "Daddy and Bobby are... kind of similar sounding, you know? Daddy... Bobby..."

"If you say 'daddy' one more time, I will revoke Uncle Buck privileges," Chimney groans.

Hen shrugs and says, "There's nothing wrong with a daddy kink as long as everyone is consenting. Now a Bobby kink..."

There's a mixture of laughter from Hen and Chimney, an ay dios from Eddie, a mumbled what is happening from Ravi, and Bobby pointedly tries to ignore the conversation.

"We were in the kitchen and he handed me-!"

"Nope! I do not want to hear about your sex life, Buckaroo!"

Buck frowns at Chimney for a moment before his eyebrows shoot up in shock. "Oh! No! You all think I- Oh god. No. No." Buck shakes his head seriously and continues, "The kink extends outside of the bedroom. He likes it when I call him that all the time. Like when we're having dinner or when we're making dinner. Which is exactly when it happened last night. See, Bobby and I cook all the time, plus like I said Bobby and Da-"

"Alright, we're one minute out, let's wrap this conversation up please," Bobby says, as the tips of his ears turn red.

"Yes, d- Bobby. Shit," Buck mutters, ignoring the cackling around him. Who knew a minute could last so long?

Luckily, the call isn’t too bad – a car accident with the worst injury being minor airbag burns. They're able to clear the scene quickly - too quickly in Buck's opinion because none of them forget their previous conversation.

On the ride back, it takes less than a minute before Eddie asks, "So, I don't get it. You misspoke, and Tommy just... walked out?"

"If it was during sex... that would definitely be off-putting, but you would think you could just laugh it off even if it killed the mood," Hen thinks aloud, "But what exactly did you say when you called him Bobby?"

Buck shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he recalls the moment. "He just asked me to hand him the garlic powder, and I said 'Yes, Bobby' and immediately started laughing about it because I thought we could just laugh it off. But when I saw he wasn't laughing I apologized because it was an honest mistake, but he said the thing about taking time to figure things out, and he walked out."

"Maybe he didn't want to be compared to Cap because he's ancient," Chim jokes, trying to lighten the mood a bit.

Hen laughs and looks at Bobby. "You have no comeback today?"

"Don't need one if being ancient got me Athena."

There's a series of cooing, awws, and catcalls from everyone as they're quick to tease Bobby who throws a proud smile over his shoulder. Buck tries his hardest to focus on the secondhand love he feels for their relationship but notices how dim it is when compared to his tarnishing relationship. Bobby must notice it because he's quick to say, "Tommy is a good man. He'll come around."

Buck nods, lost in the thought of what if he doesn't? and too distracted by it to conceal his other thought, "Yeah, if he can get over me calling him Eddie in bed then he should be able to get over this, right?"

A weird strangled noise comes out of Chimney's mouth and Hen's jaw visibly drops. But Buck's eyes shoot to Eddie when he realizes what he just confessed.

Eddie just smiles, looking disturbingly undisturbed and a little amused and maybe… proud?

A minute of silence passes by before Ravi of all people asks, "So is no one going to question what was just said?"

Eddie shakes his head and laughs. "Come on, you guys. You said it yourself it happens to everyone. And I've had my fair share of partners who have gotten offended because they thought I said 'Buck' but 'Buck' and 'fuck' sound very similar."

"Just like 'Eddie' and 'baby' sound similar," Buck rushes to say, jaw tight, nodding quickly in agreement.

"Yeah because I'm sure that..." Chimney trails off and throws his hands up. He shoots Hen a look and asks, "Do you want to take this one?"

Hen blows out a deep breath of air and shakes her head. "They don't pay me enough to even begin to unpack this."

Eddie rolls his eyes and bumps his knee against Buck's. "This doesn't change a thing between us, okay?” He lowers his voice to say, “And between you and me, there was definitely one time I clearly said your name, so I guess we're even."

"You realize our radios are all on the same channel, right?" Bobby asks with barely veiled amusement.

Eddie's eyes widen for a second before he straightens up and fixes everyone with a flat look, almost daring them to say anything.

"Does this happen often?" Ravi asks naively.

"With these two idiots?" Hen asks.

"Yes," comes the answer from Chimney, Hen, and Bobby.

Buck crosses his arms, but he can't feel too bad when Eddie shoots him a small private smile.

Soon enough, they get back to the station, and Buck can sense something is off when he's the last to get out of the truck.

"Someone is here to see you, Buck," Bobby says, his smile tighter than usual before he squeezes Buck's arm and walks past him. Buck glances over everyone else's shoulders and finds Tommy standing there, hands in his pockets looking slightly uneasy.

"So, I'm assuming everyone knows," Tommy comments to the group who all look around uncomfortably.

"I think Cap said something about cleaning something upstairs," Ravi says before running off. He's definitely one of their smartest firefighters and probably their least nosy - maybe there's a connection there. Buck doesn't have much time to think about it as everyone rushes past him, giving him looks of encouragement and poorly concealed grimaces.

"Hi, Tommy," Buck says, purposefully saying his name to prove to both of them that he's capable of it.

"Evan," Tommy replies easily. He glances up and sighs, "Let's go somewhere a bit more private, hm?"

Buck turns and finds everyone including Bobby leaning on the railing upstairs, trying to overhear. Buck furrows his eyebrows and frowns at them, shaking his head - although he knows if the roles were reversed, he would definitely be doing the same thing.

He follows Tommy outside and takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he says sincerely.

Tommy nods, the ever-so-slight smile appearing on his face. "I know." He just looks out around them, glancing up at the sky as if trying to determine the impending weather. Buck nearly makes a joke about it, but Tommy beats him to speaking first. "I'm sorry that I walked out like that. I should have said what it was that was bothering me, but I truly needed the time to get my thoughts together."

"And that's okay. You can take all the time you need."

Tommy nods again before finally looking at Buck. "Evan, I think we both know what I'm about to say."

Buck's heart sinks to his stomach as he shakes his head. "No, I really don't."

Tommy glances over his face, frowning for a moment before fixing him with a look of... pity? "You really don't know, do you?"

Buck shakes his head, but he's pretty sure he can tell when someone is breaking up with him. So maybe he should nod, but this feels like something more than that.

Tommy puts his hands in his pockets and takes a step closer to him. "The reason I left like that wasn't because I was angry that you called me Bobby. And really, it was funny as hell given the situation."

"But?" Buck can't help but ask.

"But," Tommy continues, "It was your reaction that startled me." Buck shakes his head, confused as ever. Tommy just sighs. "Evan, you were genuinely startled by it and taken off guard. You immediately laughed it off, and I knew it was nothing. But that made me remember the other time when you said Eddie's name-"

"Which was also an accident!" Buck cuts him off, quickly, almost desperately.

The look Tommy gives Buck nearly makes him want to take the statement back. "Please, Evan. You didn't just laugh it off then, and we both know it. And we always avoided bringing it up because we both knew what happened. From the beginning, I accepted that it was only a matter of time before you figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Buck questions weakly.

Tommy pauses, seemingly debating if he's going to tell him or not. Eventually, he settles on saying, "Both times were an accident. But one was an honest mistake while the other... wasn't."

There's a moment where Buck almost brushes it off and says I don't know what you're talking about. They were both a mistake. But he can't lie to himself or Tommy anymore, and he can see the moment that Tommy registers that, expression dropping to something somber but not surprised.

"You got my attention, Evan. But whose attention was it that you were really after?" Tommy asks, slowly backing away.

"I really liked what we had!" Buck interjects before Tommy can get away.

Tommy gives him a small smile. "I did too. But we both knew it was only a matter of time." He hesitates before walking up to Buck and pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. "Goodbye, Evan. And go talk to Eddie, please."

Buck huffs out a small humorless laugh, experiencing a weird sense of deja vu. He watches as Tommy walks away and doesn't say anything in response because if he fucks up his name one more time, he doesn't think he will ever recover.

As he makes his way back into the station, he notices that most people are upstairs actually minding their own business. But then he catches Eddie watching him carefully and slowly approaches him.

"I take it that went well?" Eddie asks.

Buck chuckles and glances over his shoulder to where Eddie must've had a clear view of their conversation. "Were you watching me?"

Eddie shrugs. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

He says it so casually yet sincerely that it makes Buck duck his head, trying to fight the blush that threatens to color his cheeks. "Yeah, I'll be okay."

"So, everything is good then?"

Buck pauses and considers what Tommy had said – go talk to Eddie. “Yeah, things are… good.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows slightly, definitely not believing Buck’s weird tone.

Buck sighs and looks down. “Okay. They’re not good. But they’re fine. We broke up- amicably! And… I’m fine.”

Eddie takes a step closer and tilts his head down so Buck looks him in the eye. “Are you sure?”

It takes a moment for Buck to process what Eddie has said- he always gets flustered when he stands this close. He wonders how he pushed it all down before. But he remembers all the pep talks he would give himself to confess things to Eddie before finding out he was seeing someone new, and all the times he was with Christopher and knew that he would do anything for the kid. Anything meaning not dating his dad and fucking up their whole dynamic. And that’s the thing about Buck, he never knows how to keep a good thing. And if Eddie were the one to leave… he thinks it might destroy him.

“I will be fine,” Buck insists and plasters on a smile. “And don’t worry, I won’t stop your and Tommy’s whole bromance thing. So don’t stop hanging out because of me.”

Eddie frowns and puts a hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb resting on his collarbone. “You know you’re my best friend, right? Even if I’m out with Tommy, you can always call me, and I’ll be by your side in a heartbeat.”

“Even if he’s flown you to a different state?” Buck jokes.

“I’ll make him fly back even faster. Maybe even see if he can land where you are,” Eddie answers, smiling wide and sincerely. Buck laughs.

They remain there for a few moments just smiling at each other before the moment is interrupted. “Everything okay?” Bobby asks cautiously.

“It will be,” Buck says with a nod because it will be.

He just hopes it will be sooner rather than later.

-:-:-:-:-:-

Buck’s in Eddie’s kitchen the Thursday after the breakup, staring at the calendar with the dumb circle around the date. Basketball pick-up game with Tommy.

Jealousy still swirls in the pit of Buck’s stomach, and he’s no longer trying to fool himself that he’s jealous of Eddie. He never really has been, and he wonders if Eddie knows that. Because Thursdays are Eddie and Tommy’s night. Even with Christopher’s absence and Buck’s extended stays at Eddie’s, Thursdays are the nights Tommy comes over to distract Eddie from the emptiness for a while.

But tonight, Eddie asked Buck to come over and have dinner with him probably knowing Buck would’ve had the tiniest mini spiral on his own. And Buck wonders what he’s done to deserve such an amazing best friend.

He glances in the pantry, wondering if he should tell Eddie to cancel the pizza order he'll be picking up on his way home in favor of Buck making something that will distract him from his thoughts. Just as Buck picks up his phone, there's a rattling of keys in the front door that makes Buck nearly jump out of his skin as he rounds the corner until he sees Eddie pushing the door open.

"You're early," Buck states as he takes the pizza out of his hands.

"Basketball ended early today," Eddie replies easily.

Buck narrows his eyes at him because he's pretty sure the only way that's true is if basketball ended early only for Eddie. "Right."

"I'm going to shower. Find something for us to watch tonight."

As Eddie goes down the hall, Buck calls after him, "You know you don't have to baby me, right?"

"Who else am I supposed to baby with Chris gone?" Eddie yells back, knowing that Buck can't really argue with him. He only wishes he had something to throw at him in response. He really should've made some popcorn.

While Eddie quickly showers, Buck set the pizza down in the living room and grabs two beers, plates, and napkins before settling on the couch. He opens Netflix and goes to his account, knowing Eddie’s is full of romcom suggestions that he pretends to hate, and picks out a random true crime documentary that fulfills Buck’s thirst for random knowledge and Eddie’s thirst for drama.

Eddie joins him a few minutes later wearing slightly ratty sweatpants and an old t-shirt that clings to his chest and arms just right.

Buck averts his gaze before Eddie can catch him staring, although he thinks he might be too late because he sees Eddie watching him carefully out of the corner of his eye. Buck grabs the remote and presses play in hopes of distracting him, but weirdly enough, Eddie’s gaze never really seems to leave him. At one point, Buck even glances over and gives him a questioning look which Eddie answers with a shake of his head before looking at the TV only to glance back at Buck a few moments later.

When the documentary comes to an end, Buck has absorbed about none of it and he doubts Eddie has either. So instead of talking about it, he grabs their empty plates and heads to the kitchen hearing Eddie trailing behind him with their empty bottles.

“Want another one?” Eddie asks as Buck rinses off their plates.

Buck shakes his head. He has a feeling that Eddie is about to ask him how he’s doing or something, and although another beer won’t really affect his cognitive abilities, Buck rather not take any chances. Once he’s through with putting the plates in the dishwasher, he turns carefully and leans against the counter, locking eyes with Eddie who lingers by the fridge, eyebrows furrowed in thought.

“Is there something you need to talk to me about?” Eddie questions, throwing Buck for a loop.

“Me? I was going to ask you the same thing after you found me more entertaining than that documentary,” Buck jokes.

Eddie frowns and looks away from him. “I did not.”

“Tell me one thing that happened during it.” And Buck really hopes he doesn’t say anything because he wouldn’t be able to confirm it.

Luckily, Eddie stammers for a moment before sighing, “I was staring out of concern after Tommy said…”

Buck's heart drops to his stomach as Eddie trails off. “What did he say?”

Eddie pauses and crosses his arms. “He asked if you had talked to me, and I told him you told me about the breakup, but he acted like there was something more that you needed to say.”

Buck crosses his own arms to try to hide how much his hands are starting to shake.

“Is there more?” Eddie asks.

There’s a moment where Buck almost says, No. I don’t know what he’s talking about. But then he hesitates, wondering if this is it. This is his moment.

Before he knows it, too much time has passed for him to lie and say there’s nothing, so Buck lets out a deep breath and takes a seat before he does something dumb like lock his knees for too long and pass out mid-confession. He looks up at Eddie who begins leaning against the fridge, head framed by one of Chris’s tests with a big A on it.

“I never told you why we broke up,” Buck confesses. “I never even told you the truth about why we started dating.” He pauses and looks down, unable to look at Eddie’s reaction as he continues. “You know, when I met Tommy, I thought he was pretty cool with the whole flying-a-helicopter-through-a-hurricane-to-help-us-without-asking-any-questions thing. I mean. Who does that? So, yeah I asked him for a tour because I wanted to get to know the guy - as a friend.

“And then, I saw him with you,” Buck looks up at Eddie, reimagining the moment. “And you were so happy with him. Happier than I’d seen you in a while, and I knew I should’ve been happy that you got a new friend. But I was devastated. And I felt so guilty about it, especially after the whole basketball thing. I told Maddie about what happened, and she told me all about this best friend she had and how she got jealous when she got a new best friend, and I thought… that was it. As selfish as it was, I wanted to be your one and only best friend.”

Buck pauses, wondering if he should cross this line, but Eddie nods gently in encouragement, brows furrowed as he takes it all in, and Buck continues, “But that wasn’t it. And deep down, I think I knew what was really happening, and I didn’t want to admit it. So, I changed the narrative in my head a bit… I think? Honestly, things aren’t one hundred percent clear to me about how I repressed it - but all of a sudden I was so sure that I was jealous of you. That I was jealous of you hanging out with Tommy. And that’s what I told him before he kissed me, and things just progressed from there. And really, I was happy with our relationship, he was great, and he was… kind of like you. But…” he trails off, words on the tip of his tongue but unwilling to fully let them escape.

“But?” Eddie prompts so gently that Buck almost doesn’t hear it.

In one breath, Buck says, “But he wasn’t you.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up so fast that Buck would find it comedic if it was in any other situation. “So, you’re saying…” Eddie asks, head cocking to the side.

“Calling Tommy ‘Bobby’ was an accident,” Buck states, uncomfortably straightening up in his chair as he prepares himself for what he’s about to say. “Calling him your name was not.” And just to put the final nail in the coffin Buck says, “And it was never his attention I was after. It was yours. I wanted you, but I couldn’t handle the thought of telling you and ruining things between us. I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship or my relationship with Chris, but here I am… doing exactly that.”

Eddie purses his lips and nods for a few long moments before turning to the fridge and opening it up, grabbing two beers, and setting them on the counter.

“I’m good, Eddie.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, these are both for me.”

Buck feels his entire being shrink in on itself and he wonders if this is the worst rejection he’s ever felt.

“To think,” Eddie clarifies quickly, walking over to place a hand on Buck’s shoulder, thumb soothing over his collarbone. “About everything you said - which absolutely won’t ruin our relationship or your relationship with Chris. I promise. I just need a few minutes.”

And that’s all Buck needed to hear to know no matter the result of this conversation, things would be okay.

He stands up quickly, suggesting, “Why don’t I let you sleep on it?”

Eddie gives him a look mid sip that says no before he can actually say anything. “The only way you’re letting me sleep on it is if you stay the night on the couch because I’m not letting you doom spiral in your apartment.”

“I wasn’t going to…” Buck trails off when Eddie raises his eyebrows at him. “Okay, yeah, I would’ve spiraled on my own. But let me at least give you some space to think.”

Eddie nods, eyes staring off into space entirely unfocused.

Buck quietly says, “Okay,” under his breath and goes to the living room, closing the kitchen door behind him. He takes a deep breath and settles on the couch, trying to make himself comfortable but failing entirely. He takes out his phone and starts typing a message to Maddie saying this is probably crazy but remember that time you said something like whatever I had to tell Eddie I would tell him in my own time? well, guess who just found out what you meant by that and told their best friend they’re in love with them???

But then he remembers Maddie will tell Chimney and Chimney will tell Hen and Hen will tell Karen and Athena and Athena would tell Bobby and… really he does not want everyone to know he confessed his feelings for Eddie before Eddie has time to process those feelings.

Buck sighs and goes through his apps before going to Google and looking through whatever is trending in searches before going down a rabbit hole that becomes a fairly decent distraction until he thinks Man, I need to send this article to Eddie. Then he gets an achy feeling in his chest.

Quite a few minutes pass before Buck gets a sudden dry feeling in his mouth and he realizes he needs water. This is arguably the worst time to need water when the kitchen is off-limits, but he doesn’t think he could drink straight from Eddie’s bathroom sink faucet without feeling weird about it. Plus, he’s sure Eddie will understand, and he won’t interrupt his moment if he’s quick about it.

So, Buck makes his way to the kitchen, pulling the door open only to find Eddie pushing it open on the other side.

“Hey,” Buck says with a small smile.

“Hey,” Eddie responds, eyes trailing over Buck’s features as if taking them in for the first time.

A few seconds pass before Buck finally asks, “Do you mind if I get some water?”

Eddie shakes his head and steps back out of Buck’s way. But as Buck steps forward, Eddie shakes his head and says, “Wait, I’ll get it for you.”

Buck frowns, trying to interpret Eddie's body language, but he's not sure if he's ever seen him so... nervous or maybe... flustered?

As Eddie walks back to where Buck is lingering in the doorway, his eyes roam over Buck before he snaps himself out of it, shaking his head and handing Buck a glass of water. He turns and rubs his hands over his face. "Dios," he mumbles.

Buck doesn't say anything as he sips on his water, leaning against the doorframe and taking in Eddie's spiral. It's simultaneously comforting and nerve-wracking. After a few moments of silence, Buck finally asks, "You okay?"

Eddie pauses and glances up at him. Buck's almost sure that Eddie is about to lie and say he's fine, but right as he opens his mouth, he closes it and shakes his head. Buck wants to step forward and comfort him, but he hesitates, wondering if the push into Eddie's space will scare him away.

Eddie takes a few steps toward Buck, effectively making Buck feel pinned up against the doorframe. "I have been trying to replace the hole Shannon left in my life since she passed. And I've been finding all these replacements that never felt right. Hell, I found Shannon's doppelganger, and it still wasn't right. And I always thought that she was just irreplaceable. And I was right. No one will ever be Shannon, and no one will be able to replace her role in Christopher's life or what I had with her. And that’s okay. But... while I pursued all these women for the wrong reasons, I never realized that Shannon wasn't the only reason why things never worked out."

Eddie takes a deep breath and takes another step closer to Buck. "There was always this small part of me that knew that no matter what happened with my relationships, it didn't matter because you would always be there - for me and Christopher. But I never really considered that this," Eddie makes a quick motion between him and Buck, "could even be an option. And I feel..." He trails off as he stares at Buck.

"Uncomfortable?" Buck asks slightly cowering in on himself, prepared for the mental hit Eddie's answer will be.

Eddie gives him a flat look, completely shutting down all of Buck's thoughts. "Like an idiot," he states as if it's the most obvious answer. Eddie crosses his arms and takes another step toward him. "I mean, I’ve always known you were attractive. Sometimes I would wonder what it would be like to be one of your girlfriends – especially when they didn’t treat you right. I would imagine what I would do if I was them.” He runs a hand through his hair and sighs, “Hell, I used to call Ana your name often enough that Chris tried to make it an inside joke. At the bachelor party, I really should've known though because as soon as I saw you and Tommy together I felt... awful." Eddie laughs and shakes his head. "For a minute there, I was confused as hell wondering if I was suddenly homophobic."

Buck can't help but burst out laughing.

"It's true!" Eddie laughs and hits Buck on the arm. "I had to reevaluate my feelings when Karen and Hen walked in, and I became very aware that it was just a you and Tommy thing. Then, I thought maybe I was just jealous seeing you close to Tommy or maybe seeing Tommy close to you. But that didn't really make sense because I've been so excited whenever you hit it off with anyone else in my life."

"So, how did you rationalize that thought?" Buck asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

"I got blackout drunk and didn't think about it again." The answer is so immediate that Buck can't help but laugh again. Eddie smiles at him and nudges him on the shoulder. "I should say, I didn't think about it again until about half an hour or so ago"

Buck can't help but look at him a bit bashfully. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be," Eddie says, hand landing on Buck's shoulder. "Don't ever be sorry about telling me how you feel even if it sends me into an identity crisis of sorts."

Buck cocks his head to the side. "Identity crisis meaning...?"

"I might be into guys?" Eddie says more as a question than an answer, but it still makes Buck's heart skip a beat. "I'm not sure," Eddie confesses. He pauses, eyes roaming over Buck before breathing out, "I think I might just be into you."

Buck's brain lags for a few seconds as he processes what he's been dreaming about hearing practically since he met Eddie. After replaying the words in his head a few times, he can't help but ask, "Might?" But before Eddie can answer, Buck leans over far enough to set his glass down and effectively crowd into Eddie's space, "Because I know a way for us to confirm that you're definitely into me."

"Is that so?" Eddie asks, an amused smile gracing his face. The hand on Buck's shoulder slowly yet firmly travels up his shoulder to the back of his neck. "Do you want to show me?"

Buck doesn't trust any words that are about to come out of his mouth, so he lets out a shaky breath and nods, already feeling his cheeks flush and his eyelashes flutter involuntarily.

Eddie raises his eyebrows at him, and they both share a moment of this is really about to happen.

As they move closer together, Buck is sure something is going to interrupt them - like an alarm or an unwanted knock on the door.

But Buck's nose brushes against Eddie's gently, and then there's a breath shared between them before their lips connect gently.

Buck breathes in sharply, heart pounding in his chest, and Eddie responds by weaving his other arm around Buck's waist and pulling him in deeper as if he's trying to make them one whole entity. And who is Buck to deny him his wish?

Buck suddenly remembers that he also has arms which he uses to cup Eddie's face, and then he backs them up until his back is suddenly colliding with Eddie's fridge.

Eddie pulls back momentarily to make sure he's okay, and Buck laughs breathlessly before pulling him back in.

It feels like his first time on the job as a firefighter, the first time he and Eddie truly worked together as a team, and the first time he met Christopher. It feels right.

Buck smiles so wide that he has to pull away with a laugh that sounds almost like a sob, but he doesn't try to stop the happy tears that escape - especially when he sees Eddie in a similar state.

They both stare at each other in disbelief for a moment as they laugh and pull each other into a hug.

"I definitely just like you," Eddie chokes out.

Buck laughs and squeezes Eddie a little tighter.

They linger in the hug for a few moments longer than they usually would, swaying slightly. They slowly pull back to look at each other before resting their foreheads together. “This is real, right?” Buck questions quietly.

He can feel Eddie nod before he says, “It better be.”

Buck laughs softly. He pulls back and notices a faraway look in Eddie’s eyes. “You okay?”

Eddie nods and looks down. “I just wish Chris was here for this. He would probably roll his eyes at me and tell me that you were right in front of me the whole time. Or maybe he’d also feel like an idiot for not realizing that you’re all we need.”

Buck cups Eddie’s face again and redirects his gaze at him. “Hey, we’ll get to know what he thinks soon, okay? In the meantime, don’t you think it’s better that we work out all the kinks of turning what we had into something more before getting Chris involved?”

Eddie nods and laughs softly. “Of course, you already want to fix what we have before it's really begun.”

“I’m the guy who likes to fix things,” Buck says with a smile. “But I don’t think there’s much to fix here, you know?”

“Other than the years of dates, kisses, and declarations of love that I need to make up for,” Eddie comments cheesily.

Buck cocks his head to the side and feels his cheeks turning red. “Wow. Eddie Diaz is a romantic.”

“For you, I sure am,” Eddie flirts.

Buck can almost hear Christopher groaning at the line. “Declarations of love?” Buck recalls out loud.

A pinch forms between Eddie’s brows. “Yeah. You know that I love you.”

Buck frowns and tilts his head. “Really? Because I don’t think we’ve ever truly said that to each other.”

Eddie looks off as if trying to recall every moment they’ve spent together. He frowns and looks at Buck. “Another thing that should’ve made things obvious to us.” Buck laughs as Eddie smiles and grabs his shoulder. “But, just so you’re totally aware, Evan… I love you.”

“Yeah?” Buck asks with a big smile, already pulling Eddie back in for another kiss.

“Yeah,” Eddie mumbles against his lips.

A few moments later, Buck quickly pulls away and says, “I love you, too, by the way.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Buck laughs, “Good. But I’m still going to spend as long as I can proving to you that I love you more than you know. That I love you and Christopher more than you both know.”

Eddie smiles at him so sweetly that Buck almost forgets that he’s allowed to openly stare – more than that… he gets to openly stare at that smile forever. “And we’re going to do the same for you.” There’s a pause before Eddie gets a slight mischievous glint in his eye. “Just try to refrain from calling me ‘Bobby,’ okay?”

Buck sighs and rolls his eyes, pulling away to put his glass in the sink.

There’s a sudden loud chime, and a moment later Eddie gasps.

Buck turns to find Eddie turning the phone to him with a text from Christopher reading I’m ready to come home Dad. Love you.

“Scratch what we said about working out the kinks?” Buck says with a breathless laugh.

Eddie nods and kisses him. “Let’s go get our kid.”

[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

Meeting Cpt. Orca ( @2oosterr 's OC)

Price: You don't need the mask

Riot: I'd prefer to make a good impression

Price: You don't need it. Alright, Captain Murdoch, Sergeant Vega. Sergeant Vega, Captain Murdoch.

Orca: ...

Riot: ...

Price: I'll leave you two so you get acquainted

Orca: ...

Riot: ... Price said you were a pilot

Orca: And what of it

Riot: That's so cool, I would have loved to learn how to fly a plane. I'm trying to get Nikolai to teach me to fly an helicopter but somehow his plans are always thwarted

Orca: Mhmm

Riot: Just a silly childhood dream I guess. I love the Top Gun movie

Orca: ... you love Top Gun

Riot: ... yes?

Riot: ''If we hurry we can catch next viewing''

Orca: ''On the double then''

Riot: ''Yes ma'am''

Price: ''Where are they going?''

Ghost: ''Seems like a local cinema is showing the original Top Gun movie''

Price: ''Oh. They didn't invite us''

Ghost: ''Nope''

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 3: “Make it stop” (solitary confinement)

Was busy all morning but here it is! Wild having a pretty awful time of it, and fun with magic songs and instruments.

No specific warnings, apart from its whumptober, so expect pain.

Read on ao3

————————————————————

“WILD!”

Time’s eyes snapped open at the shout, and he bolted upright from where he’d been sleeping.

He looked immediately over at where Twilight’s cry had come from, and saw him shouting in Wild’s face, shaking him none too gently. Time quickly got to his feet and dragged him back, giving the young man in front of him a disbelieving look.

“Rancher, what on earth are you doing?” he demanded, and Twilight looked at him, eyes frantic.

“He’s still out Time, he’s not— I fell asleep last night at some point, I don’t know when, but I woke up a bit ago and he’s still in it,” Twilight said, looking on the verge of panic, “I tried waking him up more gently but he’s not even twitching, something’s wrong with him!”

Time looked immediately at Wild, and felt a deep concern rise in his chest.

Wild had fallen into one of his memories last evening, right as they’d been preparing to make camp for the night anyway. Nobody had been too worried, since they were now quite used to the champion regaining memories at odd moments, and they’d set up camp and eaten dinner without much fuss.

They’d all grown a little more concerned when it had been over an hour and Wild still hadn’t awoken, but even Twilight had figured it must have just been a longer memory to regain. They’d all gone to bed, apart from Twilight who insisted on waiting up, and Time had fully expected to wake up in the morning and see Wild making breakfast as usual.

He should have known better.

Nothing was ever that simple for them.

Time let go of Twilight, and looked again at Wild, studying the champion in concern. Wild still had the exact same blank expression and faded look in his eyes from the night before, his position only changed slightly from Twilight’s attempts at waking him.

It had been more than eleven hours since he’d fallen into the memory.

The others had been woken up by Twilight’s shouts, and it didn’t take long for them all to cluster around Wild, eyes widening as one by one they realized he still wasn’t responding to anything.

They began attempting everything they could think of to rouse him, shouting his name, dousing him, lightly tickling the back of his neck. Hyrule even pulled out a strong-smelling plant of some kind he had in his bag, but Wild didn’t move for any of it, still staring, still blank.

“Let me try something,” Legend said finally, after countless unsuccessful attempts, and took out a pale ocarina.

He had an unreadable look on his eye as he began to play a soft tune, the notes somehow both sad and heartwarming. The others all listened in silence, and as the last note faded, they all looked intently at Wild, hope bright on their faces.

The champion still hadn’t moved.

“...That should have worked,” Legend said in a quiet voice, and Sky patted him on the back, telling him it was a good try.

The others began to talk about what to do next, but Time ignored them, studying Wild in silence. Something about Legend’s attempt was stirring an idea in his head, an inkling that deep down he knew what was wrong with the champion, but he wasn’t sure yet.

He watched Wild for a long time while the others talked, noting the deep breaths he took, and pale film over his eyes. His appearance hadn’t changed a bit the entire time, but Time continued to study him, a hand on his chin.

And suddenly he knew what was wrong.

“Rancher, you said he normally experiences the whole memory, then comes back?” Time said, and the others paused in their discussion, looking at him.

“That’s what he says happens,” Twilight said, still looking incredibly worried. “He watches it happen, doesn’t quite experience it exactly in... himself, though, if that makes any sense. And once it’s over, he wakes up.”

Time nodded, then turned from Wild, looking over the rest of the worried group.

“I believe he’s repeating the memory,” he said plainly.

They all looked at him in confusion at the statement, not even Twilight catching on. “What do you mean repeating it?” Hyrule asked hesitantly, and Time looked back at Wild.

“Every four minutes and thirty-two seconds, on the dot, his eyes shift to the left,” Time said. “And one minute and nine seconds after that, he takes in a noticeably deeper breath. I’ve been watching him, it’s the exact same increment of time, every time. I believe he’s trapped in a loop. Continually repeating the memory he’s recovered.”

The words felt sour on his tongue as he spoke them, masks and moons stirring in his memory as he explained.

What a terrible fate.

“But how did that happen?” Twilight asked in dismay, pulling him out of his darkening thoughts. He placed a careful hand on Wild’s head and looked into his eyes. “That’s never happened before, how could—”

“Wait, remember that weird guy we saw in that last town we were at?” Wind suddenly piped up.

Everyone stared at him.

“Oh... I guess that was just me and Wild,” the sailor said a little awkwardly. “Well he was real kooky, had these big robes on and looked all insulted when we tried to walk by his stall without stopping. He tried to get us to buy stuff and was being really rude and up in our faces, and Wild finally told him off and showed him his weapons and stuff so he knew he meant it. But he was still acting strange when we left, waving his arms and all weirdly smug, even though we didn’t buy anything.”

“You didn’t think to mention this before now?” Twilight asked with an edge to his voice, and Wind raised his hands defensively.

“We meet all sorts of weirdos, I didn’t think anything was wrong at the time!”

Twilight opened his mouth to say more, but Time put his hand on his arm, stopping him. It wasn’t the time to argue about it.

“Well that explains the who, but not the how,” Warriors said thoughtfully as he looked at Wild again.

“It’s got to be a delayed curse of some kind,” Legend muttered, tapping his chin. “He cast it when Wild was in front of him, and it only began affecting him when the memory hit for some reason.”

“But how do we get him out?” Sky asked in dismay, and Time pulled out his ocarina, quieting the group.

“I believe I can retrieve him. I’ve had experiences a little like this.”

“But how?” Hyrule asked, and Time smiled grimly, the purplish-blue of his ocarina shining bright in the morning sunshine.

“I believe I’ll need our sailor’s help for that.”

After explaining himself and going through a short lesson and period of preparation after (Twilight pacing with agitation the entire time), Wind and Time sat down in front of Wild, each with their respective instruments. The other Links hovered nearby, Twilight especially looking concerned, and Time held back a sigh as he watched him continue to pace.

Wild had been out for close to fourteen hours now.

“Are you sure I can’t help?” Twilight asked for the third time in a row, and Time shook his head.

“I’m sorry Rancher, but no. You’re inexperienced in magic like this, and we don’t want to cause Wild any harm.” Seeing Twilight’s frustrated look, Time caught his eye, and gave his arm a bracing squeeze. “We’ll get him out, Twilight. But he’ll need someone out here when he wakes up, and better you then anyone.”

Twilight closed his eyes, struggle clear on his face. But he nodded, and drew back after a moment.

“Be careful.”

“We will.”

Time looked over at Wind, fidgeting with the Wind Waker. “Are you ready, Sailor?”

“Yep! But I still think I could do it by myself,” Wind said as he stretched his arms above his head, and Time smiled a little grimly.

“I’m certain you could. But we don’t know the strength of the curse, and the Wind Waker may need a boost. Hopefully the ocarina will be enough.” Time sighed, watching as Twilight sat next to Wild, still completely unresponsive. “And we don’t know what state Wild is in at the moment, no less what it’ll be like in his memory. Better you have backup in case something happens.”

Wind suddenly looked much more nervous then before, but he nodded determinedly.

Then Time raised his ocarina to his lips, pausing a moment as he took a deep breath, and Wind raised his baton in preparation.

Time began playing the Command Melody that Wind had told him about once before, and had taught him now, the sailor conducting him as he went. A breeze brushed his cheek as he blew, the wind increasing as he played through the song, and Wind’s eyes squeezed shut in concentration, his tongue slightly sticking out.

Time focused on the heavy magic that they were weaving with the music, directing it towards Wild. It seemed to flow reasonably well, but as the song swelled, Time found himself suddenly wondering what they would do if this didn’t work.

It will work. It has to.

A faint chorus seemed to join them, weaving seamlessly in with both the wind and the playing from his ocarina. The last note faded from his lips, and the chorus stilled, the world seeming to hold its breath.

And then Time’s vision suddenly tunneled, his senses going dark.

(...)

A scream woke him.

Time’s eye snapped open into an expanse of shimmering grass, wide and endless. The familiarly of the location made his heart beat unpleasantly, but at another glance, it was clear it wasn’t the same as what he was remembering. There was a faint mist blowing through the field, tinged blue and gently swirling, but the only noise was that of the grass swaying, no other sounds or screams that he could make out.

He doubted he had imagined the cry, though.

A rustle caught his attention and he turned to see Wind sitting up next to him, looking around at the fog with an expression of wonder. He didn’t appear nearly as uneasy as Time felt, and ran a hand through the grass, blinking at the unusual noise it made.

“Is this Wild’s... head?” he asked as he got to his feet, and Time hummed, doing the same.

“In some respect, yes, I believe so.”

“It isn’t usually like this when I use the command melody,” Wind said after a minute, face curious. “...though I’ve never tried it on anyone asleep. It’s a lot calmer than I thought it would be too. I guess I sort of assumed...”

A distant sob was carried to them by the wind, and Wind went silent, both of them exchanging looks before quickly heading in the direction it came from.

A few trees were faintly visible through the fog, but Time barely noticed them, intent on listening for any more noises to follow. The grass rustled slightly as they walked, the sound unnatural and strange, and the blades were almost silky-feeling when Time touched them.

They’d been going for an indeterminable amount of time when Wind suddenly tugged his arm and motioned for him to stop, ears pricked. Time froze, and strained his ears, heart jumping when he heard a familiar voice.

“Let me out, let me out let me out please Hylia, make it stop—”

The last word choked off into a sob, and Wind bolted, Time quickly wading after him. He soon caught up to the sailor, and they made their way through the long grass and fog, following the distant cries.

They finally reached an area where the mist thinned, blue swirling silently away, and Wind gasped as they both saw a figure collapsed in the grass.

Wild was curled into a ball, his hands clutching at his scalp so hard there was blood in his nails. His face was pressed to his knees, hair falling over his eyes, and Time quickly went to his side and crouched next to him.

“Champion,” Time said urgently, but Wild didn’t reply, mumbling rapidly under his breath.

Time and Wind exchanged looks, and Time extended a hand, touching Wild’s shoulder as gently as possible.

Wild gasped and opened his eyes, looking around with a terrified expression. His eyes flickered like he was looking at something only he could see, and his breath hitched as he stared right through Wind and Time, no recognition on his tearstained face.

“Wild?” Wind asked in a small voice, and Wild’s head jerked, his breath coming in thin gasps as he looked around.

The same faint scream Time had heard earlier echoed through the air, and Wild’s breath caught on a sob, the Champion pressing his head back against his knees.

“Please, please, not again, don’t show me again!” he gasped, voice hitching.

“Link,” Time said forcefully, and squeezed his shoulder. “I don’t know what you’re seeing, but it’s not real. We’re here to get you out.”

Wild’s next breath cut off into a wail, and he slammed his hands over his ears, so tightly Time was afraid he would hurt himself. Time reached forward to put his hand back on his arm, but Wild fell abruptly limp, whimpering as he took a deeper breath.

He opened his eyes again, bloodshot and haunted, but filled now with gut-wrenching acceptance.

“Again,” he whispered, and his breath shuddered on a sob.

It must have restarted, Time thought with an ache in his chest, and Wind moved forward, gently taking Wild’s hand.

“Champion? It’s us, remember?” Wind asked in a surprisingly steady voice, looking down at him. Wild stilled a little, but he continued to look around, ears flicking in all directions, tears still leaking from his eyes. “Link?”

Wild flinched at the name, but it seemed to help, his eyes focusing a bit more, and not darting around as much. Wind repeated his name in that same gentle voice, and Wild’s eyes slowly trailed up and focused on Wind. A sudden clarity shone in the blues as he stared at him for several long moments, and he leaned forward, eyes wide.

“Sailor?” Wild breathed eventually, and Time nodded, giving him an encouraging look. “Old— old man?”

“That’s right. We’re here to get you out,” he said with no small relief, and Wind helped Wild slowly sit up. He pulled him into a side hug, and the shivers wracking through Wild eased a bit, the champion looking relieved at the touch.

“Do you know what happened?” Time continued, carefully studying his face.

Wild swallowed.

“Something went wrong,” he stammered, looking more shaken than Time had ever seen him. He stared to the left for several moments before continuing, letting out a violent shudder. “With the— the memory. Don’t know what, the first time was just a normal one, but it— it changed. And now it keeps r-repeating and it won’t stop, no matter what I do I can’t make it stop—”

His head suddenly snapped to the side, and he choked on a breath, appearing to force himself to look back at Time and Wind.

“...How many times has it been?” Time asked quietly as he rubbed Wild’s shoulder. Please goddesses, let it not be as many as I suspect.

“Don’t know,” Wild croaked, haunted look in his eyes somehow brightened by the fog. “I lost track close to a hundred.”

Time felt the blood drain from his face as Wind gasped, and the voice suddenly screamed again.

Wild violently flinched at the sound, his trembling begun again, and Wind moved so he was more hugging the champion. The sailor’s face was pale, and Time kept his hand on Wild’s shoulder, steadying the teenager in front of him when another shudder ran up his spine.

More than a hundred times...

“Can you make it stop?” Wild whispered, looking off at something Time couldn’t see again. Wind nodded rapidly, and Time took both of Wild’s shoulders in his hands and gave them a bracing squeeze.

“We can. Just hold tight. We’re going to pull you out with us when we break the connection,” he reassured, and Wild looked utterly relieved, even with tears still trickling down his cheeks.

Wild clung tightly to him as Time began to help him up, shaking like a leaf. Time rubbed his shoulder again, concern laying heavy in his chest, and Wind gave him an uncertain look. The sailor was doubtless thinking along the same lines as he was.

They didn’t know what Wild was seeing, but it was obviously affecting him deeply, and he’d already been forced to go through it so many times, and for so long...

Wild was strong, Time knew. Stronger then he gave himself credit for. But everyone had their limits.

Had Wild already been pushed past his?

“Let’s get out of here,” Time said as Wild flinched again, and Wind nodded, looking around at the field again.

“I’ve never done this before,” the sailor admitted with a worried look between Time and Wild, “breaking the song’s magic like this. I don’t know if... What if we can’t..?”

“Then we will come back and try again,” Time said confidently, and put an arm around Wild’s shoulder to more solidly hold him up. “As many times as it takes. Now let’s get out of here.”

He wrapped Wild in his arms, the teenager still violently shaking, and Wind put his arms around Wild’s back as well. Time closed his eye, and focused on the magic allowing him and Wind to be here, and began tugging it away, neatly snipping them from Wild’s mind.

But he made sure to bring Wild too, tearing at the sticky threads of curse he could feel surrounding him, not letting them pull him back into his mind, trapping him there forever like they wanted. It was hard magic, gumming up the works and spreading its grimy reach into every corner it could get to. But Time still fought against it, cutting it apart, ripping it away where it clung.

He’d had plenty of practice with magic that refused to let go. This was no different.

He could feel Wind tugging as hard as he could, and Wild weakly pulling as well, and as all three of them went after the last thread, the magic suddenly snapped, throwing Time back into his own body with a horrible lurch.

It took him a long moment to readjust, settling back into his own mind rather disorienting. But he managed to open his eye after a moment, and saw Legend looking at him in concern. His hand was on his arm, stopping him from falling over, and Time gave him a small smile as he regained the rest of his senses.

Then immediately looked over at Wild.

The champion hadn’t moved.

Time’s heart fell as Warriors helped Wind sit up, the sailor shaking his head and looking dizzy. Wind looked over at him, then turned towards Wild, and a quiet oh escaped his lips, face falling.

Twilight was still seated next to Wild, the hopeful look on his face soured as Time and Wind looked between each other. Time met his eyes, and the rancher swallowed, looking away from Wild and down at his hands.

Wild breathed in sharply.

Twilight’s head snapped up, and they all watched with bated breath as Wild seemed to freeze, even more still than before. Time carefully moved over to him, and he and Twilight watched in silence, waiting for movement... a sign...

“Come on Champion, come back to us...” Time murmured.

Wild didn’t move.

And then his eyes snapped open, and he collapsed forward onto Twilight’s waiting arms with a gasp, Twilight letting out a tense laugh of relief as he caught him.

“It worked!” Wind cheered, and the others let out varying sounds of joy and relief, clapping Time and Wind on the back, trying to see how Wild was doing. Time smiled and endured the happy clamor, but his smile stiffened as he looked at Wild.

He was buried in Twilight’s hold, still faintly trembling, and Time could see him getting more and more tense as the noise around him increased. Someone nudged him on the arm, and he stiffened so abruptly Twilight jumped a little.

“Give him space,” Time said quietly, catching the others’ attention with his tone of voice. “He’s been through a lot, and will need rest. I think perhaps, he could also use some breakfast... could you all help with that?”

The heroes exchanged looks, but they took the hint and nodded, and everyone except for Wind went off in the direction of the cooking pot. They cast glances back at where Wild still lay, but didn’t comment further. Wind joined Time and Twilight’s sides, and he looked down at Wild with a hesitant expression.

“Is he okay?” he asked softly.

A noise came from Twilight’s arms, and they all looked at Wild, still trembling, and curled in Twilight’s hold with a surprising amount of vulnerability. Wild breathed out slowly, and despite how he was still clutching at Twilight’s wolf pelt with hands that shook more than ever, he raised his head, and met Time’s eye.

The gratitude and relief in his gaze was nearly overwhelming, and Time leaned down to take his hand in his, Wild clutching at it like a lifeline.

“Wild?” Twilight asked carefully, and Wild flicked an ear in recognition that he’d heard. “How are you doing cub?”

Wild closed his eyes again, and didn’t immediately reply.

Then a noise between a laugh and a sob escaped his lips, his shaking increasing again as tears started to fall down his cheeks. Time drew the arm Wild was still clasping closer to him, holding it to his chest, and Wild let out another laughing sob.

Wind squashed himself between Time and Twilight as well, and all three of them held Wild as he cried with relief, overwhelmed at finally being freed from his own mind.

“You’re okay,” Twilight whispered, running a hand through Wild’s hair. “You’re out, Link. You’re safe.”

“And we’re gonna make sure it never happens again,” Wind said fiercely, a thread of guilt in his voice as Wild shuddered. “Never again.”

Time didn’t say anything, but Wild gripped at his hand again, and he squeezed it silently in return.

Never again.

[itslulabee]

Participation (Ch.2)

~

Sharing is Caring

Kili x OC, Fili x OC (Smut!!)

(part one, part three, part four, part five, part six)

Description; This fanfic is posted to my AO3 as well, it's basically just pure filth with my OC Kaia and five members of Thorin's Company, we're continuing on with Fili ;)

MINORS DNI!! smut!! back off if ur a wee one!!

AN; I stand by the headcanon that Fili eats people out like a man STARVING

Translations for any Khuzdul will be at the end! <3

~ <3 ~

“Well, what do we have here?”

Kaia squeaks in surprise at the new voice, and both she and Kili look over to find the source of the voice.

Fili stands a few feet away, leaning against a tree. He looks down at the two, head tilted slightly.

“Are we having a little tussle?”

Kili scoffs, raising himself onto his elbows.

“No.” He says indignantly, raising his eyebrows at his brother. Fili smirks, and Kili sits back to pull up his trousers, blushing slightly.

Kaia raises herself onto her elbows, looking between the two brothers.

Fili looks back to her, eyes travelling down her dishevelled form. Her skirts are still hitched around her hips, displaying her legs. Fili deeply inhales at the sight of them, before looking over at his brother.

“Well done, Kili. Finally told her you care about her?” Fili asks, his voice tight.

Kili looks at her, and gives her a small smile.

“There wasn’t much talking…” Kaia chuckles, holding Kili’s eyes as he blushed even more. “But I got the gist.”

“Ah, young love…” Fili chuckles, “What would Amad say about you defiling your lady before putting a braid in her hair, Kee?”

Kili scoffs, leaning back slightly. “Amad will be happy I at least found someone... my One. How far have you gotten with that?”

At that, Fili smiles too. He gives Kaia a significant look, and her breath hitches. Fili’s eyes travel down her body.

Kaia watches Fili, before looking over at Kili. She was shocked to hear me call her his One, but her heart fluttered at the thought. She'd had a crush on Kee since the first week of their travels, specifically since he gave her a flower with a blush on his face. And they proceeded to fall halfway down a hill. He was truly one of a king, and she knew she was falling for him. 

Fili's next words brought her back to the present.

“As long as you made her cum, I see no problem…” Fili shrugs, crossing his arms across his chest.

Kili and Kaia are silent. Kaia avoids Kili’s eyes, clearing her throat. Fili stands still, looking between the two of them.

“Wait.... you made her cum, didn’t you, Kee?” Fili asks his brother, eyebrows raised.

Kili is silent, playing with a blade of grass next to him. Kaia looks over at Fili, who is staring shocked at his little brother.

“Kili. We were raised better than that!” His disappointment is palpable, and if it wasn’t for the fact that both princes looked completely serious, this conversation would be hilarious.

“Fee, it’s no big deal.” Kaia states, sitting up. She pokes her foot at Kili, who looks at her in confusion and surprise. She shrugs, looking over at Fili.

The golden haired prince gapes at her. “No big deal?!” He says, incredulous. He walks over to the pair, crouching down.

“Lass, I know you’re used to the way of men. But, as we’ve pointed out, our ways are much different.” Fili says, seriously. “Dwarven women are precious to us. More than any gem. Making them happy is one of the most important things to us! This is why dwarrowdams have so many lovers. Satisfaction is a must.”

Kaia stares wide eyed at him, utterly confused. Both he and Kili are looking at her in earnest, expressions grave.

“I’m not a dwarrowdam.”

“If you are a dwarrows love, then you are practically one of us. You have the body of man, but your soul is made of the same stuff as us dwarves.” Fili nods.

“Now. Let us get one thing straight, ‘ibin abnâmul (beautiful gem). If a dwarf cannot satisfy his One, then she is completely within her right to seek satisfaction elsewhere.”

Kaia stares at him, confused once again. Both Fili and Kili are watching her, eyes urging her on.

“What do you mean?” She asks, breaking the silence that had grown.

“Kaia, it would be my honour to be your lover.” Fill says, taking her hand in his own.

Kaia gapes at him, before looking at Kili.

“But-”

“Please, amrâlimê.” Kili pleads, taking her other hand in his own. His eyes and words are sincere. “Let my brother take care of you.”

“You’re… you’re okay with this… your brother, becoming my lover?”

“My heart is yours, ghivashel (treasure of all treasures). After tonight, I would be honoured to put a braid in your hair, if you would put one in mine.” Kaia’s heart warms to this, and beams at Kili. The two share a soft kiss.

Fili watches the two, his own smile gracing his lips. Looking at him, Kaia creases her eyebrows.

“You wouldn’t feel weird… or inferior?” She asks Kili, searching his eyes for any sign of discomfort. But, all she finds is love.

“It is an honour to know your lady is desired, to know she is loved by many. I want you to embrace our ways. I want you to never spend a day unsatisfied.” Kili murmurs, reaching his hand up to cup her face.

He shares a meaningful look with Fili. “It would not be odd for us, as we trust each other completely.”

The brothers share a smile, before pressing their foreheads together, before Kili looks at her and winks.

“Plus, we have always shared everything.” He teased, his hand moving to trace along her bare thigh.

“But.” Fili starts, “If you are uncomfortable, or you do not wish to take a lover, or if you do not wish for me to be one of them, that is completely fine.” He brings her hand up to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. “I care for you as my brothers One, nothing will change that. Please, do not feel pressured, sweet girl.”

Kaia is moved, tears prickling in her eyes. The love she feels from both of these brothers is something she has never dreamt of experiencing. She loves them both, in equal measure but in different ways. And she desires them both... 

“I would be honoured to be yours, Kili.” Kaia says, watching as Kili beams, before turning to Fili, “And I would be honoured to have you as my lover, Fili.”

Said prince smiled brightly at her, a dimple forming underneath his moustache braids. He leans forward and presses his forehead to hers. Kili kisses her hand, and Kaia feels her whole body glowing with happiness at this turn of events.

Pulling back, the older Durin prince looks over Kaia’s body. Kaia feels herself blush, her cunt fluttering at his heated gaze.

“Now that we’ve gotten all of that sappy shit out of the way…” Fill murmurs, looking over at his brother, “Let me show you how to properly pleasure a lass.”

Kaia giggles as Fili leans forward and steals a kiss, trailing his lips over her jaw, down her neck and gently bites her shoulder.

File crawls on top of her, gliding his hands over her shoulders, and across her chest. Kaia moans as his fingers touch her breasts over her corset. Fili chuckles into her shoulder.

“Sensitive, are we?”

“Stop teasing me, you fucker.” Kaia groans. Both brothers chuckle lowly at this, and as Fili moves his head down to her chest, Kaia watches as Kili leans back on his elbows, dragging his hand lazily over his crotch. He winks at her, taking his lower lip between his teeth.

The sight of watching him fondle his growing bulge, and feeling Fili drag his teeth over her clothes nipples make Kaia whimper, clenching her knees together to get some friction to her core.

File grabs at the top of her corset, tearing it open to give him access to her tits. She gasps, arching her back. The prince damn near groaned as he eyed her heaving breasts, taking a nipple between his lips. He sucked hard, making Kaia moan and squirm below him. He flicks the other nipple with his finger, his other hand moving to shuck up her skirt even further up her body.

His skilled finger found her cunt immediately, tracing his fingers across her sensitive slit.

“Fili, fuck!” Kaia groans, bringing her fist up to her mouth to bite down on her knuckles.

“Let me hear you, badgûna (lady of my dreams). Tell me what you need.” File groaned around her breast, moving further down her to press kisses along her stomach.

“File please… I need you… touch me…”

“As you wish, sweet girl.”

Fili plunged two fingers into her, pressing into her until he was knuckle deep. She gasped and moaned low, eyes rolling back at the combined feeling of his fingers on her breast, his lips on her stomach and his digits pumping into her.

File scissored his fingers into her, adding a third as her cunt began to grip him harder. She was a moaning, writhing mess as he dropped his mouth lower. Pushing up her skirt, his golden mane disappeared between her legs.

“FILI!” She screamed, as his lips latched onto her clit and sucked, hard. Stars appeared in front of her, as an earth-shattering orgasm hit her. She went silent, unable to form words as Fili continued to suck, four fingers pumping into her pulsing cunt as she came in waves over his face.

Kaia arched off the ground, hand moving to his hair pulling hard as he overstimulated her poor clit. He sucked and licked at her like she was the elixir of life, tasting her and urging her to give him more, he himself groaning as she tugged on his scalp.

Kaia opened her eyes to look at the stars above, vision blurry as her body built up to another orgasm, painfully on the precipice.

She moved her eyes from the sky, travelling across the landscape until they fell on Kili.

He was on his knees a few feet away, slightly hunched over as he fisted his cock. He was red-faced, mouth open wide as he pumped himself hard, his cock red between his white knuckled grip. He watched her writhing body, before turning his eyes to hers.

Immediately, he let out a loud groan, staring her in the eyes as his body shuddered, his cock releasing ropes of cum onto his hand and stomach.

He slumped over, still fisting his cock as he shook.

The sight alone made her cum again. She bit her lip to stop herself screaming out again, arching her back until she could see the world around her turn upside down. Her body erupted, her muscles spasming as she fell into complete bliss.

File gently played with her whilst she came down from her high. Waves of pleasure cascaded through her body like flashes of starlight.

She loosened her grip on his hair, running her fingers through it to bring her back to reality.

“How do you feel, ghivashel?” Fili asks, resting a hand on her cheek. Kaia lifts her own hand up, resting it atop his own. She is sweating and exhausted, but her heart is filled.

Yet, she still was not completely satisfied.

Looking over Fili’s dishevelled person, she noted his half-lidded eyes and rosy cheeks. His mouth is covered in her release, his moustache braids damp. His clothes are askew, his coat pushed slightly down his arms and his shirt slightly unbuttoned, revealing thick golden hair across his pecs. Travelling her eyes further, she bit her lip taking in the bulge between his legs.

“You’re so good with your mouth, madtubirzu…(golden heart)” Fili’s eyes and smile widened at the pet name, unaware that she had taken time to learn some Khuzdul during their journey.

Kaia smirked mischieously, reaching down to grab at Fili’s erection. “…but how are you with this?”

Fili grins devilishly, leaning down to press his lips to hers. His kiss was slower than his brothers, expertly dancing his lips over her own. She continued to grope him through his trousers, and he ran his hands through her hair in response, as he growled low in this throat.

He rises up to his elbows, looking over his shoulder at his brother.

“Are you watching, Kee?” He calls.

Kaia looks over towards Kili, who is now sat reclined against the soil, trousers done up again as he watched his brother and his lover.

“I thought you were going to show me how to pleasure her, Fee, not how to tease her and act like an ass…” Kili chuckled, winking at Kaia. She bit her lip at the brotherly teasing, enjoying their dynamic.

“Big words from a dwarrow who came the second he got his end away!” Fili sniggers, throwing Kaia a wink. Kili goes to say something else.

“Too much talking , not enough shagging!” Kaia groans, glaring good-naturedly at her boys.

Fili looks down at her, mouth open in faux-shock. “Wow Kaia, you’ve got quite a mouth on you.”

“And she knows how to use it…” Kili drawls, biting his lip.

“Alright, alright. She’s right, too much talking.” Fili leans down slightly to grab her by the backs of her thighs. She squeals as he lifts her legs, bending them and pressing her knees to his chest.

On impulse, she tries to shut her knees together, but Fili slides himself between them, trapping himself against her. He grinds his hard, clothed length against her, rubbing against her clit. Kaia gasps, staring up at him with blown out pupils.

Fili smirks at her reaction, nuzzling his nose to hers in a nose kiss. They share a smile, before Fili sits back on his knees, undoing the ties of his trousers.

“You might want to hold onto something, lass…” He groans, pulling out his cock and stroking it at the sight of her splayed out for him.

His dick is beautiful. Slightly shorter than Kili’s but thicker and curved slightly. Fili grabs her hips, pulling her up slightly as he looms over her.

“…I’m not going to go easy on you.” With that, he thrusts into her fully.

Kaia screams, throwing her head back as he fills her instantly.

He starts fucking her hard and fast, hooking her knees around his arms to open herself fully up to him. He sets a pace which is harsh, pulling her up and down his length in tandem with his own thrusts.

Above her, Fili groans and pants, staring down at her as sweat beads onto his forehead. Kaia stares up at him, mouth hanging open as she takes everything he gives her.

His hips hit her own at an angle, bumping against her sensitive clit every time he thrusts into her. Kaia can feel her head spinning and the coil inside her tightening with every punishing thrust.

Fili lets go of her knees, in favour of grabbing her ankles, lifting and stretching them up to place them against his shoulders. He leans down, foldering her in half under him, hitting her at a deeper angle.

Kaia’s vision goes blurry, digging her fingers into his tunic and becoming a writhing mess beneath this beautiful dwarf.

The new position has Fili hitting a specific spot inside her over and over again, bringing her closer and closer to yet another earth shattering end. Fili holds his forehead against hers, his hot breath fanning her face and their own sweat mingling.

Movement catches Kaia’s attention to her left, and she turns her face to watch as Kili lies down next to the humping pair. He watches her face, biting his lip as she smiles at him with a blissed expression.

“My beautiful girl…” Kili murmurs.

Fili continues thrusting into Kaia, pressing his sweaty forehead into her shoulder as his thrusts became more erratic.

“Kee, play with her clit.” Fili groans, his own hands too busy with playing with her tits and grabbing her hair in a vice like grip.

Kili doesn’t need to be told twice, he reaches between them and starts rubbing her clit in figures of eight, nuzzling into the other side of her neck. One of Kaia’s hands detangles from Fili’s tunic to grasp onto Kili’s unoccupied hand, and she feels him kiss her neck.

The coil inside her tightens almost painfully, and she can feel herself on the precipice once again

“I’m- I’m going to-”

“Cum, ‘ibin abnâmu. I want to feel you cum on my cock.” Fili moans, fucking her with abandon.

“Cum for us, Amrâlimê!” Kili pants, sucking on her pulse point and rubbing his hand against her clit.

Kaia does just that. Throwing her head back and letting out a silent scream, she loses herself in her third orgasm of this amazing night.

Kili kisses up her neck, kissing her cheek, her temple, her forehead and then her nose. She looks back down at him, and he gives her a dazzling smile.

Fili lets out a groan from on top of her, and she feels how his cock pulses inside of her as he finishes, filling her up.

She drags her hand through his hair, forcing his head back to look into her eyes.

Blue eyes meet her own, equally blissed out, ones. He gives her a smile, kissing her gently before pulling out of her, causing them to both sigh.

Both brothers collapse on either side of her, taking each of her hands in their own.

Kaia feels Fili’s seed slipping out of her, covering the ground beneath her. She lets out a contented sigh, excited to have a wash soon…

-

We're all whores here :) thanks for reading, chapter three will be up soon!! First four chapters are posted on my AO3, if you can't wait!

Translations ~

Badgûna – dream girl ‘ibin abnâmul – beautiful gem Amrâlimê – love of mine

[byeeizzy]

Little fanfic of how my narinder got his bow with a bell (The death lover AU) because im too lazy to draw it

Narinder: N Lamb: L

L: "My lord" Our little sheep bows before the personification of death "I bring an offering to my god and savior"

N: The death, now freed from his prison, in a smaller and more comfortable form to move around in the mortal world, Look closely at the one who freed him "An offering you say? It's been a while since you brought me an offering Lamb"

L: The sheep smiles softly , and a little shyly and open their hand, A golden bell, tied in a black ribbon... "Narinder, My lord, my God, my death and my life... I ask with all my heart and soul that already belong completely to you...Would you marry me, be my partner for eternity and beyond?"

A silence that seemed eternal fills the temple

Little Lamb was starting to panic, had he misunderstood their relationship? Had she crossed the line?? ready to stand up and beg his god to forget this, A soft laugh echoes through the temple

N: "Did you... did you just propose to me with a bell, Lamb? Is this a sheep thing?" Narinder says smiling and trying to contain his laughter

L: "I did, didn't I?" They start to laugh nervously "i dont remember if it's a sheep thing actually i just...I thought, since you gave me a bell the first time we met... we could have matching bells haha.. But it's stupid I know, I'm sor-"

Lamb is interrupted, with a long clawed but soft hand on her cheek

N: "Yes it's stupid, but coming from you I was already expecting something like this"

L: the lamb smile "so is this a yes...or?"

N: "certainly yes, my lamb"

That night, in the temple of death, under candle lights and red flowers, with all the followers present... death marries life

[vaaaaaiolet]

how it feels to write 1k words without stopping

[bramstr0k3r]

I stayed up until 5:30am writing my first fic (or any creative writing) in 3 years and then got up again at 8 solely so I could be the 666th agathario fic and all I got was this stupid screenshot

[daenysthedreamer101]

Daughter of Steel and Bronze ~ HOTD

Ch 15 - To Mend a Broken Heart

HOTD x Targaryen!OC, Targaryen!OC x Harwin Strong

Warnings: slight make-out session? They get a bit horny lol. Daena and Harwin being sappy, love-sick fools, fluffy overall

A/N - I'm obsessed with this painting of the knight and the lady. It's so beautiful and represents Harwin and Daena so well

HOTD masterlist

"Not much can be said for the couple following years - Queen Alicent gave birth to another son, Prince Aemond in 116 AC. Once again, Princess Rhaenyra's status as heir was questioned, but the King ignored all the whispers at court.

On Driftmark, Prince Daemon wed Lady Laena Velaryon. Many took notice of this, as the wedding followed quickly after the death of his first wife, Rhea Royce. Not even a year has passed and the Rogue Prince found himself a second wife. 

His daughter, Princess Daena, stayed shrouded in black for an entire year, following the death of her mother. The once vivacious princess was now a shell of her former self, refusing to eat or drink, barely sleeping, and confining herself to her chambers. Some believe she never truly recovered." 

(Fire & Blood, Being a History of the Targaryen Kings of Westeros, by Archmaester Gyldayn)

~

116 AC

During the first two months after her mother's passing (before Rhaenyra's wedding), Daena visited the Eyrie, intending to speak to its ruling Lady, Jeyne Arryn. They discussed her inheritance and her new role as Lady of Runestone.

Daena knew that as Rhea's only child, she was the heir to Runestone and upon her mother's death, she became its new ruler. But there was just one problem. She was Daena Targaryen, not Daena Royce.

She had Royce blood. She was raised at Runestone and knew the castle better than any living soul and the Vale had a special place in her heart. But, she was a dragon. She was fire and blood. She loved her mother's side of the family dearly but, she could never part ways with her last name. She could never imagine herself as anything other than a Targaryen.

That is why she flew to the Eyrie and spent three whole days there, talking with Lady Jeyne for hours. She also reconnected with her distant cousin, Jessamyn Redfort, a 'dear companion' of Lady Jeyne. 

~

Following Rhaenyra and Laenor's less-than-perfect wedding, Daena (with the King's permission) relocated to Dragonstone, where she spent most of her time, mourning. There was no way in the Seven Hells she would spend any unnecessary time at King's Landing, for she loathed the city. She also had no desire to go back to Runestone, even though it was her birth-given right and duty.

Ultimately, she settled for Dragonstone, the ancestral home of House Targaryen. Both she and her dragon loved the smoky air and gloomy atmosphere of the island. There, she could sulk in peace, without worrying about what the lords and ladies of the Red Keep would say.

With her, Daena brought Harwin and Hanna. Joy, the older and more outgoing of the two sisters, was married off to Ser Elmo Tully, the heir to Riverrun and the future Lord Paramount of the Riverlands. Initially, Daena was quite sad; she would miss Joy's lively spirit. But on further thought, she realized it would be a good thing to have one of her most trusted friends become the future Lady of Riverrun. 

The months she spent on Dragonstone were quiet, peaceful, and healing. On the nearby island of Driftmark, her father and Lady Laena were wedded; not even half a year has passed and her father has already found himself a new wife. It stung Daena, the fact her father was so quickly able to move on from her mother's death as if she never existed. She did not attend their wedding.

But, Lady Laena was kind, beautiful, of pure Valyrian blood, and as of late, a dragon rider. Months before Rhaenyra's wedding, Laena claimed Vhagar, the largest dragon in the world. Vhagar was almost two hundred years old and was one of the three dragons Aegon I used to conquer Westeros. Only a bold spirit could claim such a beast and Laena proved she was worthy of riding the Queen of all dragons. 

Harwin didn't know what to make of Dragonstone. The first time he laid his eyes on the island it was hidden by fog and mist, the smell of salt and smoke hitting his nose. The castle itself was a wonder to see; built by the last Valyrians, it was an homage to their once-powerful Empire. It was wholly non-Westerosi. Everything about it was made to honor and glorify dragons. 

It was unnerving to live in, to say the least. A grim place, Dragonstone was built with arcane arts, fire, and sorcery. Draconic architecture could be found in every nook and cranny of the castle. Door handles, murals, candles, goblets, chairs, tables, mirrors, wall carvings, statues; the entire castle was shaped like one giant dragon. Harwin did not like the idea of living inside a dragon's belly. 

But who was he to disobey his darling Princess? 

Speaking of said Princess, she was leaning on one of the many balconies that were perched up on the walls of the castle. She seemed in deep thought, her gaze focused on the roaring sea. She looked so hauntingly beautiful, Harwin thought; her long silver hair was pulled up, and she was shrouded in black as she always was these days. Around her neck, she wore the Valyrian steel necklace her father gifted her. 

He stood behind her, slightly to her right, watching, observing her. Her face was expressionless, but he could see so much pain and grief inside her lilac eyes. She drummed her fingers against the stone balcony. 

"I wish to walk on the beach." She said quietly. 

Harwin looked up at the sky - large, grey clouds were covering up the sun and it looked like it would rain any minute. 

"Are you certain, Princess? What if it rains?" 

"Then we'll be wet." She stated, turning to face him. 

Her once lively face was blank, and Harwin couldn't help but notice how her new way of dressing made her look significantly older than she was. Before he could respond, she walked past him, quickly descending the long flight of stairs. 

~

The bottom of her black gown dragged across the wet sand but she paid it no mind. The wind carried a scent of smoke and salt, something she enjoyed immensely. There was a certain coolness to the air which indicated to her it would rain soon. As someone who spent a lot of time high up in the air, she knew the telltale signs of an incoming storm.

"I received a letter from Joy this morning," Harwin said, breaking the silence. 

She looked up at him. "You did? What does it say?"

"She says the Tullys are most hospitable and that they take great care of their future Lady." 

Daena smiled at the news. She was glad the Tullys were taking good care of her friend. 

"There's more," Harwin added and stopped suddenly. 

Daena stopped as well, waiting for him to reveal more news. 

"She is with child." 

Daena was speechless. "That's wonderful! You're going to be an uncle!" 

Harwin chuckled. "I suppose I will." 

Daena's smile faded. "...I haven't received any letter from her since she moved to Riverrun. I think she's cross with me."

Harwin furrowed his brows. "Why do you think that?"

"Because...I didn't attend her wedding." She mumbled, nervously playing with her necklace. 

Harwin chuckled once again. He took hold of her hand, kissing the inside of her wrist. Putting his other hand around her waist, he pulled her closer, their faces inches away. He placed his forehead against hers. 

"It is not in my sister's nature to be resentful. It must have slipped her notice once she found out she was pregnant." Harwin said quietly, looking deeply into Daena's eyes. Her pupils were wide, making her eyes appear darker. She placed her other hand on his forearm.

"I- I suppose you are right." She whispered, her eyes falling to his lips. 

He smiled at her, nudging his nose against hers, and kissed the side of her head. She sighed in contentment, placing her head onto his breastplate. The cool metal felt nice against her hot skin. He placed many small kisses on top of her head, holding her tightly against his body. He inhaled the scent of her hair - lemon and rose oil.

She felt her heart skipping a beat. Ever since her mother's death, she's been...distant and formal with Harwin, ignoring the way he looked at her, ignoring whenever he called her 'love.' In a way, she was punishing herself, abstaining from his touch, depriving herself of any joy. 

Not anymore.

"Kiss me." She pleaded, looking up at him, her eyes full of desperation and desire. 

Harwin was taken aback. They haven't had any intimate moments ever since Lady Rhea passed. Daena noticeably distanced herself, and he respected her wishes even though it broke his heart. And now here she was, begging for his love. 

"Are you certain?"

Daena tsked and grabbed his head, pulling him down and connecting their lips. He stumbled a bit, not expecting her to react that way. He put his hands on her hips, squeezing her soft flesh. Her fingers were tangled in his dark curls, drawing him closer. 

He grabbed the back of her head, deepening the kiss. He gently bit her lower lip, making her gasp in surprise, giving him further access to ravage her mouth. All the little noises she was making were spurring him on and he couldn't help but notice his pants tightening.  

"Harwin..." She whined his name and it sent a shiver down his spine.

"The things you do to me, you pretty little thing...You don't even know." He groaned in her ear and the sound went straight to her core, making her clench around nothing. His hot breath made the hairs on her neck stand up. 

"But I do...You have ignited a fire in my heart and it burns so sweetly I wish for it to burn forever. I wish for it to consume me whole." 

His hold on her hips tightened and it ached slightly, but she didn't dare to move. A low growl left his throat as he inhaled her scent.  "Those are dangerous words, little dove."

"I know you feel the same way." She whispered into his ear. 

Before he could respond, the sky opened and rain started pouring from the clouds above. To her surprise, he picked her up and ran toward the castle. A gasp escaped her lips upon realizing her feet were off the ground. 

For the first time in months, she laughed. 

~

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?" Hanna screeched as she saw the Princess and her brother enter the castle, sopping wet. 

"We were just taking a stroll on the beach," Daena answered innocently as Hanna dragged her toward her chambers. 

"Quick, Princess! We must change your clothes or you'll get sick." Hanna rambled on as they reached the room's door. 

Daena chuckled at her friend's worry. "No need to worry so much, my dear. I'll be fine." 

Hanna clicked her tongue and shook her head in disapproval, catching sight of her brother. "You too, Harwin. Go and change."

"Why of course, my Lady," Harwin said with a smirk. 

"I'm serious!" Hanna hissed angrily at her big brother. 

"Alright Hanna, dear, I'm sure Ser Harwin can take care of himself. Now, come and help me get out of this dress. I'm positively soaked." Daena said, pulling Hanna by her sleeve. 

"Congratulations on your sister's pregnancy," Daena muttered as Hanna massaged oils into her skin. The light of the now-waning sun trickled faintly into her bedchamber. The fireplace was lit, warming the room and adding additional light. Daena was ready to retire for the day. 

"...You know?" Hanna asked, her voice coated with surprise.

"Harwin told me while we strolled on the beach," Daena said, leaning back in her bathtub. 

Hanna stayed quiet. 

"What's the matter?" Daena asked. 

"Nothing, Princess."

"Hanna. I know you. You've been unusually snappy today. Something's bothering you. Won't you confide in me? I thought we were friends."

"It's just- Joy's pregnancy. It made me think of my own life."

"Yes?"

"I'm afraid Father will soon marry me off."

"Would that be a problem?" 

"I-"

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. Hanna wiped her hands, got up, and went to see who was knocking. Daena could hear the measter's hushed voice. Hanna was back with something in her hands. 

"A letter for you Princess. From King's Landing."

A sigh escaped Daena's lips. She perched herself up, picked up a towel from the side of the tub, and wiped her hands. Hanna handed her the letter. 

Her eyes went over the lines over and over again. A frown appeared on her face and an agitated groan left her lips. She crumbled the letter and threw it away.

~

The Princess was in a foul mood this morning, Harwin noticed. He could see it in her eyes, in the way her jaw was tense, in the way her brows were furrowed. Instead of talking, she sighed, clicked her tongue, and rolled her eyes at everyone. She was annoyed, dare he say angry. 

Why? Harwin didn't know. 

They were now in Aegon's Garden - it was filled with tall dark trees, wild roses, and cranberries. It had a pleasant piney smell. Daena sat down on a large bench made of black stone. She patted the seat next to her and Harwin sat down. 

She took a deep breath, taking in the scent of all the wildflowers. "This was always my favorite part of the island. I like how quiet and peaceful it is here. I've never felt such tranquility anywhere else."

"... I'm sure you have noticed my less-than-pleasant behavior today. I'm sure you've wondered why that is."

She handed him a crumbled letter. "This is why."

Harwin's brows were furred as he read it. "So, what does this mean?" 

Daena sighed, looking down at her feet. "It means that as soon as I finish my mourning, the Queen will try and marry me off to a lord of her choosing. She will whisper in my Uncle's ear, just like her father did. She'll try and convince him it's for my own good."

"I would sooner jump into Vermithor's mouth and let myself get eaten alive than let her control my life."

Harwin smirked. He knew she would do it. 

"There is only one course of action I can take." She said, turning to face him.

"And that is?"

"I need to find a husband, by myself."

Harwin's heart skipped a beat at the mention of her marriage. It would be a lie to say he hasn't fantasized about marrying Daena, or at least offering himself as a candidate for her hand. He never verbalized those dreams because he never thought himself worthy of her hand, let alone her love. 

"He will be one lucky man, whoever he is." He whispered, looking at a rose bush in the distance. 

"Yes, yes he will be." She said pointedly while looking at him. She grabbed his hand once she realized he wouldn't look at her. 

"...Princess?" Harwin uttered. He was overwhelmed by the feeling of her warm hands wrapped around his. 

"Harwin..." She called teasingly. A wide smile was on her face, a glitter of determination in her eyes. 

"You don't mean-"

"You, silly. I'm talking about you. Marry me, Harwin."

He felt like somebody punched him right in the gut, his lungs begging for air. His heart drummed wildly in his chest as he processed her words. Daena Targaryen, daughter of the Rogue Prince, rider of Vermithor, the most beautiful woman he has ever seen, was asking him for his hand in marriage. 

"I'm not worthy of you." 

Daena did not expect those words to come out of his mouth. Why would he think that?

"Why would you say such a thing?" She asked more harshly than she wanted. 

He stayed silent. 

"If not you, then who? Who is worthy of my love if not you, my brave knight?" She inquired, her voice softer.

"I-"

"Do you not feel the same way? You...you don't love me?" She finally asked, cutting to the heart of the problem. Her voice cracked, tears welling in her eyes. This was the first time they had a conversation about what they were to each other. 

Harwin took note of the uncertainty in her voice and the fear in her eyes; fear that perhaps, she was wrong and he never truly loved her. He needed to put her mind at ease.

He got down on one knee and held her hands.

"There are no words in any language on this earth to describe how I feel about you, how much I adore you. You have...bewitched my heart, body, and soul. Even in my dreams, I could not escape you. Countless nights I have spent thinking about you, praying to every god imaginable, and thanking them that I get to spend my life serving you -  my darling Princess, the one who holds my heart.

If you told me right now to fall on my sword, I would. If you told me to throw myself off the Wall, I would. I would kill for you. I would die for you. I would follow you to the ends of the earth. If you banished me and told me to leave your side, I would if it meant you were happy. Gods, I- I never thought this day would come but, will you marry me and be my lawful wife?"

~

She couldn't believe her ears. Or her eyes. She was beyond herself, to say the least.

"Daena?"

Her mouth was dry and her tongue twisted. His words struck a chord in her heart and she felt like it would burst out of her chest from how loudly it was beating. Tears blurred her vision and she could feel his calloused hand wiping them off her face. 

"No tears, my love. This is a happy occasion, is it not?"

She only nodded, not trusting her voice. More tears ran down her face as realization of the situation set in her mind. Harwin loved her. He loved her. He asked her to be his wife. 

"Come here, beautiful." He said as he pulled her onto his lap. She placed her head on his shoulder, the cold metal of his armor helped calm her down. He brushed his fingers through her silver tresses. He could hear her sniffing and her body shook slightly as she held onto his body tightly. 

"Harwin?"

"Yes, Princess?" He asked, looking down at her. 

"I love you." She whispered, a little pout on her pink lips. 

"I love you too." He whispered back, kissing her softly. 

They sat in silence for a while, holding each other and taking in the scent of wild roses. Little birds chirped high above them and the wind whistled. They stayed there until the sun went down and the moon showed its silver face.

Taglist: @ateliefloresdaprimavera