Goodbye, and Other Impossible Words
Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader / Echo x Medic!Reader
Words: 16,500
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, depression, slight insecure reader, mutual pining, a lil jealousy, smut, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, fingering, face-sitting, cockwarming, creampie, handjobs, and lots of feelings!
Summary: Echo knows he made the right choice, he knows he needs to see this through with Rex, even if it meant leaving you behind. But that doesn’t mean it didn't hurt to say goodbye, nor does it mean it’s easy to see you struggling when he returns to Pabu.
A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged my Rex fic! I was expecting like 5 notes so to say I’m pleasantly surprised is an understatement.
I rewrote this about five times before I was at least somewhat satisfied enough to share, and each time it got longer so I had to cut it off somewhere or risk splitting into parts. I have a backlog of finished works to post, and I can't decide which to publish next, so I’m open to suggestions for who you'd like to see next week!
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“You’re really leaving, aren’t you?”
Echo stills, his head hanging slightly before he turns to you. Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, and there's no accusation in your words, only a deep, weary sadness.
For a moment, you look so tired.
“I have to, cyare. You know that.” His voice is low, his own eyes mirroring your emotions.
You look down, your hands wringing together as you take a slow, deep breath.
Echo’s chest aches.
He takes a step closer, and then another, and another, until he’s standing in front of you, the two of you toe-to-toe. You’ve always known that Echo wouldn’t be around forever, just as he’s always known that this isn’t the life you deserve. It is something you never speak of, but something both know all too well.
Your shoulders tremble, just a little.
“I know, I just…” You suck in a breath. “I’m going to miss you.”
Your voice breaks on the last syllable, and Echo feels something in his own chest shatter with it.
He wraps you in his arms. “Me too.”
You melt into his touch, your head coming to rest against his shoulder. You stay like that for a few minutes, neither saying a word, just breathing each other in, holding onto each other like you never have before.
Eventually, you pull away, wiping at your eyes with the heel of your hand. He can see you trying to pull yourself together, putting your mask back into place and hiding away the pain you feel.
You give him a small, watery smile.
His stomach twists.
“When you come back, tell me what it means,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper.
“What?”
“Cyare.”
Echo feels a pang in his chest. He swallows the lump forming in his throat. “I will.”
There’s a beat of silence, the two of you staring at each other with the same longing in your eyes, until Echo turns away, looking down at the floor.
“I should get going. Rex and I…”
“No, it’s fine.” You give him that smile again, the same one you always do, but he sees a little of the light in your eyes dim. “Go. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Echo swallows, and nods.
With that, you turn and leave, disappearing around the corner, the sound of your footsteps fading as you get further and further away.
He watches you go.
The room is cold, suddenly, the silence deafening.
Echo clenches his jaw, and lets out a breath through his nose. He stands there, alone, for a few more minutes, staring at the empty doorway where you once were, where you were going to stay.
And then, he walks out.
Echo’s promise to keep in touch with you fell apart some time between leaving you behind on Coruscant and his first real mission with Rex. The thought of you, and his guilt at leaving, and the fear that you would move on without him, was too much for him to handle. It was better this way. Safer. For you, and for him.
He kept telling himself that.
It worked, too, for a while.
But then he’d come back from a mission and see a flash of your hair and feel a stab in his chest, and he’d remember the way you smiled when he called you cyare, or the way your eyes would light up whenever he managed to say something you thought was funny, or the feeling of your fingers as you bandaged his wounds, and then…
It hurt.
So he pushed you out of his mind, and tried not to think about you. He’d tell himself it was fine, that this was for the best.
It was fine.
Really.
Still, he couldn’t help but look forward to it when he was tasked with asking for Tech’s help deciphering the drive. The entire trip to Pabu, he’d felt restless, jittery, eager. It was strange. He hadn’t felt this way since his first assignment on Rishi Station, back when he’d been young and idealistic and desperate to make a difference.
It wasn’t a bad feeling.
But now that he’s here, descending the ramp of the Remora, his nervousness has returned, along with a tight knot of dread in his stomach.
Hunter greets him first, clasping his hand in his own. Echo can’t help but return the smile on Hunter’s face, though he can feel his own falter slightly as his gaze flickers past the other man’s shoulder, his eyes darting around the landing zone.
Omega and Tech are next, the former throwing herself into his arms as soon as she is close enough to reach. “We’ve missed you!” She exclaims.
“It hasn’t been that long,” he replies, chuckling lightly, though his attention is elsewhere.
“Is everything alright?” Tech’s question pulls his focus back. He catches Echo’s gaze drifting over his shoulder, no doubt looking for their missing teammate.
“Yeah, it’s just…” Echo pats Omega’s shoulder and withdraws, pushing himself to stand up straight, though the tension remains in his spine. He cranes his head around the group in the hopes of catching sight of you. “Where is she?”
Hunter and Tech share a look, the latter clearing his throat.
“Echo, I think —“
“Where is she?” he repeats, his impatience winning out.
The three clones freeze, their smiles disappearing. Hunter’s mouth twitches, his lips pressing into a thin line. “She wanted to be here, but —“
“But what?” Echo asks, his brow furrowing.
Tech and Hunter look at each other again. Echo can feel his pulse starting to quicken, the dread in his stomach growing. Something isn’t right.
Tech takes a step closer. He reaches out, putting a hand on Echo’s arm.
“Echo!”
His head snaps up.
He catches a glimpse of gold as the figure approaches, your feet moving at a near run, and his heart stutters in his chest.
You come to a stop a few feet away, and Echo drinks you in, taking in every detail, every change since he last saw you.
You are still just as beautiful as ever.
You are almost unrecognizable without your plastoid armor. Your hair is longer, and you’ve forgone the standard-issued fatigues for a flowing skirt and sandals. A loose tank top bares your arms and chest to the tops of your breasts. He feels his mouth go dry at the sight of so much bare skin on display, far more than he’s ever seen of you. Pabu’s sun is good to you. Your tanned skin glistens with slight perspiration, and a faint pink flush graces your cheeks that have more freckles than he remembers.
Echo shakes himself in an effort to stop staring. The last thing he wants is to scare you off when you’re finally together again, however brief that time will be.
You thankfully don’t seem to notice. A grin threatens to split your face from ear to ear, and Echo is convinced you’re about to launch yourself into his arms as Omega does until you stop short.
“Hi,” you say shyly, holding your elbows behind your back.
Echo has the overwhelming urge to close the distance and wrap his arms around you.
He shoves the desire down, forcing a casual grin.
“Hi.” His voice comes out rough, and he coughs in an attempt to clear his throat. “You look great — I mean, good. Healthy. That’s…it’s good. Good to see you.”
Dikkut, he curses to himself. He reaches up to rub the warmth blooming on the back of his neck. He has never been a smooth talker, but it’s even worse when it comes to you. He’s lucky that you never seem to take offense to his blunders.
“You too, Echo.” You smile, a bit of color rising on your cheeks. Is your face flushed from running, or are you blushing? “Looks like Rex hasn’t run you too ragged yet.”
“That’s why I’m here, actually.” He looks toward Tech, eager for the subject change. “I need your help.”
“Let’s go somewhere private,” Hunter suggests. As Echo falls into step with Tech, Hunter leads you down toward your homes. You pick up the rear with Omega, the two whispering to each other about something he can’t hear.
Echo glances back over his shoulder. Your eyes meet, and your face lights up with a smile that makes his breath catch. He looks away quickly, turning his attention back to Tech.
He can’t get distracted, not when he has a mission.
Once settled around the table in the house the boys share with Omega, he explains what they’re hoping to find on the drive. Tech looks eager to get started.
“This will take some time,” he says over his datapad. “I suggest we find a place for you to spend the night.”
“The Remora has—”
“I have a spare bedroom,” you offer, popping your head into the doorway from the kitchen. You have a dish towel draped over your shoulder, a large bowl filled with something green and steaming in your hands, and something about the way you look makes his heart stutter.
You smile warmly at him. A familiar heat pools low in Echo’s gut at the thought of spending the night with you, but he pushes it down hard. Hunter and Tech watch him, their eyes narrowed. Echo feels their stares boring into him and squirms a little under their scrutiny.
“Thanks, cyare,” Echo breathes out. He can feel his ears heating up as he looks up at you. “That would be great.”
“Great,” you smile back. “Omega, can you help me set the table?”
“Coming!” Omega chirps, hopping off her chair. When you disappear into the kitchen, Hunter turns back to Echo, propping his elbows up on the table.
“You gonna do anything about that?” He asks, his voice low.
Echo stiffens.
The others have known for a long time how he feels about you, and while he’s never outright admitted it, they’ve never had to ask. Still, the way they’re looking at him now makes his skin crawl, and he finds himself unable to meet their gazes.
“About what?”
“He is referring to your romantic interest in her,” Tech interjects, still focused on his datapad. At the stunned silence that follows, he glances up and looks between the two of them. “I thought it was obvious. Even Omega has noticed.”
Echo sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he sinks into his chair. He’s been trying so hard not to think about it or acknowledge the fact that despite his efforts, his feelings for you are stronger than ever.
Hunter leans back, giving him an appraising look. “How long has it been?”
Echo hesitates.
“Five months, ten days,” Tech answers.
Echo’s mouth drops open and his jaw hangs slack.
Hunter smirks.
Tech looks back down at his datapad, a slight hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.
They all know how long it had been, because they’d all been there for it, and the memories of those first few months after you had joined the team were some of Echo’s fondest.
It had started off small, a quick brush of your hand against his, the two of you sitting close enough together that your legs touched. At first, he didn’t realize what was happening. You’d been nice to him before, of course, but then it was different. It was…flirting.
He didn’t know what to do.
So he kept his distance, and he avoided you, and he pretended he didn’t notice the way your smile fell every time he turned away.
And then you got hurt.
Echo could still remember the feeling of your blood on his hand.
You’d been so quiet the entire trip home, and even when you’d finally made it to the med bay, you barely spoke. It was so unlike you, and he hated it. You were always patching them up, always smiling and joking and trying to keep their spirits up. To see you like that, to see you hurt and vulnerable, it terrified him.
When the others had left you to rest, Echo had stayed behind, unable to bring himself to leave.
Your head had lolled toward him, your eyes barely open.
“Stay with me?” You whispered.
“Always.”
It had been a simple promise, a quiet one, and he’d kept it, through everything, through all the missions, all the fights, and the long nights spent patching each other up. Until he left you behind.
Echo crosses his arms over his chest. His pulse starts to speed up again, his heart hammering in his chest. He takes a deep breath, and then another, willing himself to calm down.
Hunter and Tech share a look, one that speaks of an entire conversation in a single glance.
Tech nods, and Hunter looks back at him. His expression is softer now, almost sad.
He and Echo always got along, were fast friends after their first few missions together. But Hunter is protective of the people he cares about, and that includes the other members of their little family.
Includes you.
“Vod, listen,” Hunter says. He leans forward, resting his arms on the table. His fingers tap a slow, steady rhythm. It reminds Echo of a heartbeat.
He braces himself.
“When we made the choice to stay here, we knew it would be an adjustment, but she…isn’t adjusting. She’s not happy, Echo. She just doesn’t want you to see it.”
Echo stiffens, his spine going rigid. He can feel his muscles lock into place.
No.
You’re fine. You have to be. You have everything you could ever want here, a house, a life, friends. Everything.
It’s everything he has ever wanted for you.
You are fine.
You have to be.
His heart beats faster now, and he can’t calm it down.
Hunter lets out a sigh.
“We didn’t want to tell you this, but…she’s getting worse.“
"Worse how?” Echo asks, his brow furrowing. He feels his stomach start to twist.
“She’s not sleeping,” Hunter says.
“She’s not eating either,” Tech adds, looking up from his datapad. “Though she is making an effort to appear otherwise. Her attempts have become rather sloppy of late.”
“She’s not the same,” Hunter continues. “She doesn’t smile or laugh. She doesn’t talk to us like she used to. We try to reach out, but she pushes us away. Omega’s worried about her. We all are.”
Echo’s mind reels. He could feel it even in the brief moments he’s been there. You’ve been withdrawn, quiet, like you were in the med bay. He chalked it up to his own nerves, to your shock at seeing him, but maybe…
“How long has she been like this?”
“Almost as long as you’ve been gone.”
Echo’s stomach plummets.
“And you think I can do something about it?” Echo asks.
Tech gives him a flat look.
Echo looks away.
The truth is, he isn’t sure if he can. He doesn’t know if there is anything he can do, or if he can make you happy, if you’d even want him to. He isn’t stupid. He knows that the others think you have a connection, that you would miss him, but there is a difference between missing him and needing him, and he isn’t sure which is true.
It’s easier to tell himself you was fine, that you’re moving on without him, and that’s better, isn’t it?
He has no idea.
“Anything is better than leaving her alone again,” Hunter says.
Echo glances up. Hunter’s gaze is steady, firm, and Echo can’t look away. It isn’t often that Hunter puts his foot down about something, but Echo can tell this is one of those rare moments. He shouldn’t be surprised that in his absence, the others have taken a more active role in taking care of you. It’s what he wanted, after all. He specifically asked Hunter to keep an eye on you. But Echo hadn’t expected it to turn out like this.
His stomach churns.
Leaving you alone again?
He hadn’t considered it, but he supposes that’s what he’s doing. If he leaves again and you’re still like this, that’s what he’ll be doing. Leaving you behind.
Abandoning you.
He remembers what it was like, waking up in the medbay after his rescue, the pain and guilt overwhelming him. It felt like someone reached inside his chest and ripped out his heart.
Is he about to do that to you?
Echo doesn’t know if he can live with himself if he does.
“I’ll talk to her,” Echo replies just as Omega reappears with a stack of plates and silverware balanced in her hands. Hunter gives him a final look before jumping up to help her.
It isn’t long before you and Wrecker announce dinner is ready, and they all pitch in to bring food to the center of the table. Echo can’t remember the last time he’s seen so much fresh food: roasted vegetables, tubers, bread, and fish piled high on serving platters.
Gregor and Fireball are good cooks, but their supplies at the compound are limited, with dried spices doing the work to make the food more palatable. This is something else. When he takes his first bite, he nearly moans at the taste.
“This is amazing,” he announces as he meets your eyes from where you’re seated between Wrecker and Omega. You give him a bashful smile before tucking into your own meal.
Dinner is filled with conversation, stories, and laughter. Echo sits back and listens as everyone takes turns sharing your progress on Pabu. He can see why the others enjoy being here. They’re at ease, more relaxed than they’ve been since they left Ord Mantell behind. The atmosphere is light, and he can’t remember a time when he’s felt so normal, so safe.
It’s the most like home he’s ever been.
And then there’s you.
He can’t keep his eyes off of you. He doesn’t stop stealing glances your way, taking in the way your face lights up when you smile, the sound of your laugh. His heart stutters in his chest every time, and the ache he feels for you threatens to overwhelm him.
You catch him watching once, your cheeks going pink as your eyes meet, and he has to duck his head to hide the smile that threatens to split his face.
He doesn’t miss the way Wrecker is hanging onto your every word, his eyes never leaving your face. He feels his shoulders stiffen in response, his hand balling into a fist at his side.
Wrecker is his brother, his vod, and Echo doesn’t want to begrudge him his happiness, especially after what Hunter has told him, but…
He can’t help it.
The jealousy twists in his gut, and he has to force himself to relax. He’s not usually a jealous person. But when it comes to you, he’s always had a harder time keeping his emotions in check, and he knows that his desire for you goes beyond the physical.
You’re beautiful, but it’s more than that. He can see the way you care for each of them, how you listen when they talk, how you make sure to include everyone. You’re kind, and sweet, and smart, and he can’t fault Wrecker for falling for you.
Still, the jealousy that rises in his throat is bitter, and Echo feels a twinge of guilt at his feelings. It isn’t fair to resent Wrecker when he hasn’t done anything wrong. It isn’t fair to resent you either.
You’d asked him to take you with him, and he refused. What did he expect would happen?
That you would just wait for him?
Of course not.
Echo forces himself to look away, his jaw clenching as he shoves his fork around his plate. He tries to ignore the knot of emotions twisting in his chest. He’s being selfish and unreasonable.
The worst part is, he’s going to leave you again, and soon.
As the sun sets, the sky awash with color, the boys disperse to help clean up and wash dishes. It’s only when Echo tries to offer his assistance that he realizes he has no idea where you are. He looks around the kitchen, trying not to panic.
Hunter appears beside him, drying his hand on a towel.
“She went for a walk,” he says, as if reading Echo’s mind.
“Where?”
“The cliffs. Omega says she does it a lot.”
Echo frowns and glances toward the window. “But it’s almost dark. Isn’t it dangerous?”
Hunter shrugs. “She’s fine. She always comes back.”
His nonchalance does little to ease the concern building in Echo’s gut. He looks back toward the kitchen. Wrecker and Tech are arguing over whether a particular pan should be soaked or rinsed. Omega is seated on the counter, drying dishes and giggling at the two of them.
He should stay and help, but…
“I’m going after her.”
He doesn’t give Hunter a chance to respond, marching straight out the front door.
As Echo walks toward the cliffs, he can see a figure sitting atop the rocks, silhouetted against the sunset. A breeze picks up, the sound of wind in the grasses filling the air as your skirt and hair are thrown about by the current. You’re perched on the edge, legs swinging as you stare out at the ocean.
“Cyare?” Echo calls out as he approaches.
“Echo?” You jump, your head whipping around to face him. You’re far enough away that your expression is obscured, but you seem surprised and maybe a little embarrassed.
He picks up his pace. “What are you doing up there? That’s dangerous!”
“It’s fine, I do this all the time.” Your voice is a bit defensive, and Echo has to bite back his irritation.
“You’re gonna fall.”
Echo stops a few feet from the cliff. The drop is steep, and the rocks jut out from the edge at odd angles. The view is stunning, though, and the sun reflects off the water like glittering diamonds.
“I won’t,” you retort, your voice still slightly sharp, and you turn your head back to face the ocean. You pat the space next to you. “You can join me if you want.”
Echo huffs but obliges, carefully navigating his way up to your spot. When he settles beside you, his thigh brushes against yours. The closeness sends a jolt up his spine, and his skin burns where you touch.
He missed this.
You sit in silence for a moment, watching the sun begin to disappear below the horizon. The sky is ablaze with color, bright oranges and reds melting into purple and indigo. The waves crash against the cliffs, their roar echoing off the rocks. It’s a breathtaking view, and he begrudgingly understands why you would come all the way out here to see it.
He sneaks a glance at you from the corner of his eye. You look beautiful, the fading light bringing out the pink undertones of your cheeks. He swallows hard, forcing himself to turn away.
“So, what did I miss while I was gone?” Echo asks, trying to keep his voice casual.
“Not much.” You shrug. “Same old, same old. I’ve been working at the clinic a few days a week, and we’ve been helping out around the settlement.”
“What do you do there?”
“Basic medical stuff, mostly preventative care.” Your hands are tearing at a blade of grass, shredding it into tiny pieces. “I helped deliver a baby last week.”
“You did?” He can’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “How’d that go?”
You smile, your expression softening. “It was amazing. It’s such a special thing, you know?”
Echo’s breath catches. There’s something so open and honest about the way you talk about the experience, the way your whole face lights up, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest.
“I can’t imagine,” he murmurs.
You tilt your head and give him a look. “What? You’ve never wanted kids?”
“I’ve never really thought about it,” he admits.
It’s true. It’s not like he’s had the chance. Between the war and his injuries, children are the furthest thing from his mind. And even if he did, who would want to be with him? With his prosthetics, and his scars, and his nightmares, he doesn’t think anyone would find him appealing, let alone worth a lifetime commitment.
“What about you?” he asks.
“I’ve always wanted them,” you say, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Not now, obviously. But someday. A couple, I think. It would be nice to have a big family.”
Echo’s chest constricts.
He can picture it, a house filled with the sound of children’s laughter, the smell of fresh-baked goods. You, surrounded by a group of miniature clones, all smiles and love and warmth.
A future he will never have.
Echo turns his gaze back to the ocean, watching the waves crest and crash against the rocks below. He tries to ignore the pang of sadness in his heart, the tightness in his throat.
You deserve that.
He wants that for you, so badly.
But it’s not his to give.
“Anyway, what about you?” you ask.
Echo startles, turning to look at you. You’re watching him, curiosity in your eyes.
“What about me?”
“How have you been? How’s Rex?”
He’s grateful for the change in topic. Talking about your future, about his lack thereof, is too much.
“He’s doing well,” he says. “He’s getting more involved in the political scene after we helped Senator Chuchi, so I have my hands full.”
“He’s lucky to have you,” you say quietly.
Echo hums.
You both fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the waves crash along the shore. He can hear the distant call of birds, the rustling of the wind in the leaves. It is quiet here. Quiet, and calm, and peaceful.
“Hunter says you’re sad,” Echo blurts out, breaking the silence.
The moment the words leave his mouth, he wants to kick himself. He sees your shoulders tense, your grip tightening around your ankles, and he regrets it.
“I’m not,” you reply, but your voice is tight, and you don’t look at him.
“He says you haven’t been sleeping. That you’re not eating.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not,” Echo says, his tone firm.
“How would you know?”
“Because I know you,” he says, his voice rising. “Because I can see it.”
“You haven’t even been here!”
“So?”
“So you can’t just show up and tell me how I feel,” you snap.
“I’m worried about you.”
“Don’t be,” you reply, your tone cold.
Echo huffs and looks away. “Look, I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s all.”
“I’m fine.”
“If you’re fine, then why won’t you look at me?”
You sigh, pulling your knees up to your chest.
“It’s complicated,” you reply, resting your chin on your arms.
Echo reaches over, brushing his fingertips against your forearm. Your skin is warm and soft, and he finds himself craving more contact.
“Can you talk to me?”
You finally turn your head to face him. His stomach swoops as your eyes meet his. There’s pain there, a deep hurt that makes his chest ache. He hates seeing you like this, and he wishes there was something he could do to take it away.
“I’ve been trying, Echo. I really have,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “But it’s hard…everyone seems like they’re moving on except for me.”
“That’s not true.” Echo frowns, his hand finding yours. Your fingers curl around his, and you squeeze.
“No, it is. We’ve been here for months, and they’re starting to make a life here. They’re building a home. It’s a good thing, and I’m happy for them.” You shrug, turning away from him.
Echo doesn’t say anything, and when you don’t continue, he turns to you.
“And what about you?” He prods.
“What about me?”
“Don’t you want to do the same?”
You don’t answer right away, but he can see the way your face falls, the way your lips press together in a thin line.
“Maybe. I don’t know. Do I have a choice?”
“Of course, you do,” he replies, confused.
“Do I?” You ask, your voice wavering. “I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I feel like I’m just going through the motions, but it doesn’t mean anything.”
Echo hesitates, unsure how to respond. He wants to ask you to elaborate, but he knows it won’t help. You’re already looking back out at the sea, your shoulders hunched. The sun has nearly disappeared below the horizon now, casting everything in an orange glow.
He wants to press you, to make you tell him what you’re thinking, but he holds back, not wanting to upset you further. He knew this wouldn’t be easy for you at first, not when you’ve spent your entire life running from place to place. He had hoped, though, that being here would be different.
That you could find some peace.
But maybe that was naive.
“You know…” He begins slowly. “After Skako, I felt like I came home to a different world. So much had changed. I didn’t think that I would ever feel safe, or happy again.”
He hears you shift, but doesn’t turn. He is too afraid to meet your gaze, knowing it would break him. Instead, he focuses on the ocean, the way the light plays off the water.
“For a long time, I was angry, and I felt lost. I didn’t know who I was anymore, or if there was any purpose for me. And I’m still working through it, you know? But I found some things that made it a little easier, and that made me feel like myself again.”
“Like what?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
He looks over at you, at the way your eyes reflect the last rays of light, the way your lips part slightly, and his breath catches in his throat.
He could tell you.
He could tell you everything.
How you make him feel safe, how you make him feel alive, how you make him feel like he belongs. He could tell you that the mere thought of you keeps him going, that he’s been replaying the moments you shared over and over in his mind, and how every single one fills him with joy. He could tell you that you’ve shown him what happiness is, that he’d been so lonely and broken before, and now…
He could tell you how he feels, how desperately he’s missed you, how much he needs you, how much he loves you.
But he can’t. So he settles for a different truth.
“The boys. They gave me purpose, and a reason to keep going. They were always there for me, even when I didn’t want them to be. They made me feel welcome, and they reminded me that I was a part of something bigger than myself.”
He takes a deep breath.
“And then I met you. And you reminded me what it was like to be human. To be happy, and to laugh, and to have fun. You’ve given me a reason to hope, and to keep fighting, and that’s more than I could ever ask for. I just…I hope you find something that makes you feel that way, too.”
You stare at him, a range of emotions flickering across your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, can’t tell if he’s said the wrong thing.
“You’re sweet, Echo,” you say finally, smiling softly. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He smiles back, but the warmth he’d felt moments before fades, and a cold knot of anxiety forms in his stomach.
It wasn’t enough.
He doesn’t know how to be, or what to say. He can’t give you what you need, can’t make you feel the way you deserve to be made to feel. He can’t protect you, or care for you, or build a life with you.
All he can do is leave, and keep leaving.
He feels tears prick his eyes, and he looks away, not wanting you to see. He clears his throat, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. It’s better this way, he reminds himself, trying to shake the feeling. You deserve more.
He shifts, the movement causing his knee to bump into yours.
“Sorry,” he mutters, pulling his leg away.
“Don’t worry about it.” You laugh, and he can feel the warmth radiating off of you. “I don’t mind.”
The knot in his stomach grows tighter, and he fights the urge to lean into you.
“I miss you, you know. I’m glad you’re back, even if it’s just for a visit.”
“Me too.” His stomach churns, and he wonders if you would have been happier if he hadn’t come at all.
The truth is, he thinks about you every day, misses your smile and the way you always make him feel calm. He aches for you, and his heart aches for you, and he doesn’t know what to do.
“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I wish I could’ve been here like you were for me.”
You give him a small smile, and his heart sinks. “It’s okay. You have a new mission. You’re helping your brothers. That’s important, Echo.”
“So are you.”
You smile sadly.
“No, it’s not the same.” You lean forward and rest your cheek against your knee. The fading sunlight plays off the lines of your face, highlighting your cheekbones, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips. “It’s not your fault, Echo. You’re doing your duty. I’m just being selfish. It’s my own problem.”
“You’re not selfish,” Echo argues, frowning.
“Yes, I am,” you insist and your eyes flash, an edge of anger creeping into your tone.
You sit up straight, looking at him intently. Your brow is furrowed, and you have a stubborn set to your jaw. He’s seen this look before, and it both infuriates him and fills him with an aching fondness.
“I am, and I hate it, and I hate this stupid planet, and I hate how much I want you here.” Your voice breaks, and he sees the tears in your eyes.
Echo opens his mouth, then closes it. His heart races, and his palms are suddenly sweaty.
“I–”
“Do you have any idea what it’s like for me? Every day, wondering if you’re okay. Hoping that I’ll hear something. Anything.” You let out a sharp, pained sound, a mix between a laugh and a sob. “I know it’s not right, but I can’t help but wish you would’ve just stayed here with me.”
Echo’s mind goes blank, the blood rushing in his ears. He can’t breathe, can’t think. The only thing he can focus on is the pain in your eyes, the pain he put there.
“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I didn’t mean to–”
“I know,” you interrupt, your voice strained. “I know, and I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“Don’t apologize.” He reaches for you, hesitating before resting his hand on your back. His fingers trace the lines of your spine, and his throat tightens. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“No, I’m sorry,” you reply, sniffling. You pull away from him, rubbing your eyes. You push yourself up onto your feet with enough force that he worries you might tumble over the side of the cliff. His hand reaches for you on instinct, but he lets it fall, curling into a fist on his thigh.
“Wait–”
“We should head back. It’s getting dark.” Your voice is muffled, and you won’t look at him.
Echo frowns, watching as you take a step away from him. He wants to make you stay, but he can’t bring himself to press you. He’s already hurt you enough.
“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying with you?” he asks, standing slowly. He can see the way you tense, and he knows the answer.
“Of course.” You force a smile, and he knows it’s not genuine.
“I can stay somewhere else, if that’s easier for you,” he offers.
“I’m not going to sacrifice what little time we have together just because I want to wallow in self-pity. It’s not like you can change anything, anyway.” You turn away, your shoulders drooping.
Echo stares at you, his heart sinking.
You’re right.
He can’t.
“Just, please stop apologizing. You’ve done nothing wrong, Echo.”
“If you’re sure.” Echo isn’t convinced, but he knows better than to push you, especially after you’ve been so upset.
He waits for you to move, his gaze flicking from your face to the ground and back again.
“If you need me to go–”
“Don’t.” You shake your head. “Please. I’ll be fine. Let’s just go home.”
Home.
He tries to ignore the ache in his chest.
He offers you a hand, helping you down from the rocks. Your skin is warm, your hand small and soft, and he wishes he didn’t have to let go. But he does, and you pull away, the warmth of your touch lingering.
You give him a small smile as he guides you back toward your house, and Echo tries to ignore the way his heart aches.
He’s hurt you. He’s hurt you and himself, and he has no idea how to fix it.
Echo has a hard time falling asleep.
You’d given him some blankets and a pillow, and he’d awkwardly settled in to the too-soft mattress in your small spare bedroom. You’d insisted he sleep there, despite his protests, and he hadn’t wanted to upset you further. Then you’d disappeared into your room and shut the door behind you, and he was left alone.
His body ached from a long day of travel, but his mind was still racing from his talk with you. Your words kept repeating in his mind, the pain in your voice, the desperation in your eyes. He couldn’t stop replaying them, couldn’t stop wishing he’d been able to make you feel better.
When he’s finally able to close his eyes, it isn’t long before he’s jolted awake. He shoots upright, his heart pounding, his body coated in a cold sweat.
Echo can’t remember what the nightmare was about, but the lingering fear that grips his chest makes it hard to breathe. He rubs his palms roughly against his face, taking a deep breath in through his nose.
He can’t stay in the bed. He has to move, to get up and pace and shake off the terror.
Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Echo pushes himself up, shuffling into the small kitchen to get a glass of water. He can already feel a headache coming on.
“Echo?”
His hand stops midair, the glass halfway to his lips as you step into the room. Your hair is tousled, and the thin straps of your camisole hang precariously off your shoulders. The shorts you are wearing don’t leave much to the imagination, and Echo can’t help the way his eyes drag over the length of your legs.
“Sorry,” he says quietly. He drains the glass of water in one gulp and sets it back down on the counter, hoping that you can’t tell how flustered he is. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“No, I wasn’t asleep,” you say, shaking your head. Your feet pad across the floor and you come to stand beside him. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just had a nightmare.”
“Wanna talk about it?” You reach up, placing your palm on his chest.
Echo hesitates. “Not really.”
Your hand trails down his chest and around to his back, the touch warm and soothing.
“You should try to go back to sleep. It’s late,” he says, and though his body hums under your touch, the ache in his heart remains.
“You first,” you retort, a small smile playing on your lips.
Echo snorts, leaning against the counter. You’re close, so close, and he aches to pull you against him, to feel your warmth and hold you and never let go.
"You're impossible."
"And you're stubborn," you fire back, tilting your head. "I'm sorry you're still having them. The nightmares."
"It's not your fault. I should be the one apologizing, really."
You sigh, shaking your head. "Please stop apologizing, Echo."
"Then, I'm sorry."
You let out a huff, one that could almost be a laugh, and he takes it as a victory. "You're not funny."
"I'm not trying to be," he says with a shrug, but it's obvious he's fighting a grin.
"Then why are you laughing?"
Echo opens his mouth, but doesn't have an answer. Instead, he finds himself smiling wider, warmth spreading through him. He's missed this, the easy banter, the way he can make you laugh and feel at ease.
"You're ridiculous," you murmur, but you're smiling.
He watches you, and his heart aches. You're beautiful, the light from the window illuminating your face. The room grows quiet, and Echo struggles to keep his hands to himself. He wants to reach out, to touch you, but he can't bring himself to move, terrified he'll ruin the moment. He's suddenly very aware that he is standing in your kitchen, in nothing but his undershirt and underwear, while you're dressed in next to nothing.
He shifts, the air thick with tension, and he can feel the heat radiating off of you, your hand still lingering on his arm.
“So, um…”
“Uh, do you want me to make you some tea or something?” you ask at the same time, glancing over at the kettle on the stove.
Echo blinks, his brain short-circuiting as it struggles to catch up with the abrupt change in conversation. It isn’t an unusual question, you’ve done the same for him and his brothers many times before on the Marauder, but it feels strangely intimate in the darkened kitchen.
“Sure,” he says, a little too loudly. He clears his throat. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
“Not at all,” you reply, looking relieved to have something to occupy yourself with. You pull away from him, and Echo watches as you bustle around the kitchen, opening cabinets and filling the kettle.
“I can do that,” he offers, coming up behind you to place a hand on your shoulder. He doesn’t miss the way you stiffen under his touch, and he can’t help the pang of hurt that shoots through his chest before he quickly withdraws his hand.
“No, it’s fine,” you protest, grabbing a couple of mugs from the cabinet above the sink. You move past him, and he catches a hint of your scent, warm and floral. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll be right over.”
Echo relents, sitting down at the table and watching you. There’s a quiet elegance in the way you moved, and it reminds him of the first time you’d cooked dinner for them on Saleucami. The boys had been skeptical at first, but after one bite, they’d devoured the entire pot. They’d joked that you were a better cook than you were a medic, and you’d playfully swatted at them, threatening to poison their food if they didn’t behave, and Echo had watched and laughed along.
But it hadn’t been funny. You were so good to them, and they had taken advantage of it, had treated you like a burden, and you hadn’t said a word. He had felt guilty then, and he felt even guiltier now.
After that, he’d made a point of helping you more, of offering to do little things for you, even when you’d insisted that he didn’t have to. But he had wanted to, wanted to show his appreciation for all you did.
He was so grateful for you. For everything you’d done for them. He was so grateful, and so hopelessly in love with you, and so completely terrified of losing you.
And now here you are, making him tea, and he still loves you, and he still wants to hold you, and kiss you, and tell you how much he cares for you, and he’s terrified of losing you again.
So much has changed, yet somehow, it feels like no time had passed at all.
“Do you miss it?” he asks suddenly.
You look up from the tea bags you’re carefully placing in the mugs, the corners of your lips turning down slightly. “Miss what?”
“Being out in the field, fighting, the action, all of it.” Echo isn’t sure why he asked, and he regrets it the second the words are out of his mouth.
You stare at him for a long moment, the silence stretching between you. You let out a soft sigh, closing your eyes.
“Sometimes,” you say quietly. You set a cup of tea in front of him, your hand lingering on the back of his chair as you move.
He watches you carefully as you take the seat across from him, your hands wrapping protectively around your mug. You stare down at your cup, your expression guarded.
“Do you ever think about going back?” Echo asks, trying to keep his voice casual.
“Of course I do.” You look up abruptly, staring at him with a fierce intensity that takes him by surprise. There’s an edge of desperation in your voice, and it sends a stab of pain through his chest. “You didn’t want me to go back, remember?”
He flinches, swallowing hard.
“No, I mean —” Echo hesitates, not sure what to say. You’re right, he’d tried to keep you out of danger. He’d told you that he didn’t want you to follow them, but it had been a selfish request, and he’d known it. “I don’t know.”
“I see.” You’re quiet, your fingers playing idly with the handle of your mug.
He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to explain the way his stomach lurches when he watches you fight. The way his throat tightens, knowing that one wrong move could take your life. How he’s paralyzed at the thought of losing you again.
It’s too much. He doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to think about it.
But he has to, or he’ll never get past it.
“It’s just —” Echo pauses, clearing his throat.
“It’s alright, Echo. I know you had to go.” You interrupt, your voice soft and understanding. “I know I didn’t fit into your plan, and I don’t blame you.”
Echo stares at you, a cold feeling settling over him. “No, that’s not what I meant.”
“No, no, I understand.” You give him a halfhearted smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.
“You don’t. I–”
“I know I can’t help like you can. I know I’m not like you, or the rest of the squad.” Your voice trembles, and your fingers tighten around the mug.
“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” Echo pleads, desperate to make you understand. He’s struggling to find the right words, his mind racing.
“So, what are you trying to say?” Your voice rises, and there’s a hint of anger in your tone.
“That I was scared.” He blurts out. “I was afraid I would lose you, and I wasn’t ready to admit it.”
You fall silent, the only sound is the ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint hum of the refrigerator. Echo holds his breath, waiting for you to say something, anything.
“Oh,” you finally murmur, your gaze dropping to the table.
“You’re not a soldier. I know you want to help, but —” Echo’s voice cracks. “I thought maybe if you weren’t around me, you’d be safer. You’d have a happy life here, away from danger. Away from me.”
You raise your head, meeting his gaze. There’s a flicker of something in your eyes, something like understanding.
“So you didn’t want me to go with you because you were afraid something would happen to me?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.
“I couldn’t lose you,” he replies softly. “And I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you were a burden.”
You let out a quiet, sad laugh, shaking your head.
“I’m not good with this, uh, feelings, thing,” Echo continues, his voice strained.
“It’s alright. You don’t have to explain yourself.” You take a sip of your tea, your fingers curling around the mug. “You don’t owe me anything, Echo.”
“Yes, I do. You’ve been so good to us. To me. And I haven’t been.”
“Echo,” you start, but he cuts you off.
“No. Let me say this. Please.”
You nod slowly, and Echo takes a deep breath.
“I was a coward,” he says, his voice trembling. “And I was afraid that if you stayed with me, I would lose you. When you got hurt, I damn near lost my mind. I wasn’t sure I would ever get you back. And when I did, it just… it made me realize that I’m not strong enough to live without you.”
“Echo,” you whisper, reaching across the table for his hand. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything else.”
“Yes, I do.” Echo takes a deep breath. “I didn’t want to leave you, but I couldn’t take you with us. It’s not safe, and I know you can handle yourself, but I can’t… I can’t lose you. Not like that.”
You squeeze his hand, your thumb gently rubbing over his knuckles.
“I understand.”
“You don’t.” Echo shakes his head, pulling his hand away from yours. He pushes back from the table, the chair scraping across the floor. “You don’t. Because it wasn’t just that. It was also…”
You sit back in your chair, watching him, waiting for him to finish.
“I couldn’t take the way you made me feel. I was a mess, and I didn’t know what to do with it. With you. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I shut it out. I pushed it away, and I pushed you away. I’m sorry.”
“You had every reason to feel the way you did. What happened to you was terrible.”
“That’s not the point.” Echo’s voice grows louder, and he forces himself to take a deep breath.
“So, what is the point, then?” You ask, your tone careful and measured.
“I…” He hesitates, struggling to find the words. He isn’t sure how much longer he can hold himself back.
“What?” You ask.
“I don’t know. I’m trying, but it’s hard. I can’t —”
“You can’t what?”
“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending.”
“Pretending what?”
“That I’m not in love with you,” he says, his voice raw and full of emotion, the confession bursting from him like a flood. He doesn’t even know where the words come from. They’re just there, bubbling up inside of him, begging to be heard. “That I haven’t been in love with you this whole time.”
You blink, a flush creeping up your neck and face. You stare at him, stunned into silence, and he waits, his heart pounding in his ears.
“I don’t know what to say.” You finally murmur, shaking your head.
“Please don’t say anything.” He begs, his voice breaking. “Don’t say anything.”
Echo’s heart is hammering in his chest. The seconds seem to stretch on forever, and he wants nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
“Okay.” You whisper.
The word hangs between you, heavy and unspoken, and Echo wonders if this is how it will always be. If the two of you will always be orbiting around each other, never quite able to meet in the middle.
“Thank you,” he manages, and the words taste bitter in his mouth.
You push yourself away from the table, the legs of the chair scraping against the tile. The sudden noise is deafening, and Echo can’t bring himself to look at you, not trusting his resolve not to crumble if he sees the look on your face.
He hears you move toward him, but he still can’t look at you.
“I’m sorry.” He repeats, his voice breaking.
“For what?”
“I know I have no right to feel this way. But I can’t help it. I can’t help the way I feel about you. And I can’t pretend anymore. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll go, and you won’t have to deal with —”
He cuts himself off as you place your hands on either side of his face, your fingers gently stroking his cheeks. His breath catches in his throat as he looks up, finding you standing directly in front of him, so close that your legs are nearly touching.
“Stop apologizing,” you say, your voice soft and gentle. Your thumbs trace the sharp line of his jaw, your eyes searching his. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“Okay,” he breathes, his voice hoarse and his hand shaking.
“Do you really love me?”
Echo nods, unable to form words. His heart is hammering in his chest, and his throat feels thick.
“Why didn’t you tell me before?” You ask.
“Because,” Echo whispers, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I didn’t think I deserved you.”
“You’re an idiot,” you say, laughing softly. “You have no idea, do you?”
“Idea about what?” He asks, confused.
“How much I love you,” you say.
“You, uh —” His brain struggles to process your words.
“Love you. So much.”
“Really?” He breathes, his mouth suddenly dry.
“Yeah, really,” you say, smiling.
“I’ve been such an idiot,” he mutters, and you laugh.
“You have,” you agree, leaning forward.
He closes his eyes as you press your lips to his, soft and tentative. His hand and scomp come up to rest on your hips, pulling you closer, and your hands slide down to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt.
His skin tingles where your fingertips touch, and a shiver runs down his spine. His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat, and he can barely breathe.
“You really want this? You really want me?” He asks, his voice trembling.
“Of course I do,” you reply, kissing him again, this time more deeply, and Echo’s entire world narrows to the feeling of your lips on his. It’s a desperate, hungry kiss, full of all the emotion that has been building up between the two of you.
Echo groans, his arms tightening around you, pulling you into his lap. His hand tangles in your hair, tugging you closer, and you melt into his touch, your mouth hot against his.
You’re intoxicating, your lips soft and sweet and demanding, and Echo can’t stop himself. He wants to kiss you forever, to taste you and touch you and drown in the scent of your skin.
He’s lightheaded and breathless, and he can feel his heart racing. Your hands roam his body, and Echo feels himself slipping, losing himself in you, the feeling overwhelming.
You break away, gasping for air. His lips chase after yours, and you giggle, pulling back.
“Wait,” you breathe, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.” He mumbles, his hand running along the sides of your thigh, your waist, your hip.
“You promised to tell me what that word meant before you left,” you whisper. “Cyare.”
"Oh.” Echo’s heart stops, the memory hitting him like a blow.
“You never did.” You smile, your nose bumping against his, and he laughs softly.
“You still remember that?”
“Of course I do.” You kiss him again, your tongue brushing over his lips, and he shivers.
“It means, uh…” Echo clears his throat. “It means someone precious, beloved.”
You raise your eyebrows, looking pleased with yourself. “You’ve been calling me that for months. Why didn’t you just tell me what it meant?“
Echo laughs, a short, nervous sound. "Because I’m an idiot, apparently.”
“So you keep saying,” you tease, your fingers dancing along the edge of his jaw, trailing down the line of his neck. “You did have me worried for a bit. I didn’t think you were ever going to tell me. Hunter kept giving me these weird looks every time you said it.”
Echo groans, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Kriff, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I think it’s cute.”
“I was such an idiot.” He whispers, his lips moving against your skin.
“I thought it was kind of endearing.”
“Endearing,” he snorts, pulling back to look at you. “Really.”
“Yes. And I’ve missed hearing you say it,” you admit, your cheeks turning pink. “Even if I didn’t understand, I loved hearing you say it.”
Echo leans his forehead against yours, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. “I’m going to make up for lost time. You’ll be sick of it soon enough.”
You laugh, and Echo presses his lips to yours, swallowing the sound. His kisses are slow and deliberate, and his hand and scomp press into your hips, holding you close. You sigh against his lips, your fingers twisting into the front of his shirt.
He can’t stop kissing you, can’t stop touching you. His body is humming with energy, and his skin feels too tight, and he’s overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions.
“Cyare,” he murmurs, his mouth trailing along the line of your jaw, his teeth grazing the skin.
“Mm,” you sigh happily, tilting your head to give him better access.
His lips trail along your jaw, and he nips at your earlobe.
“Cyare,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. You shiver, a low moan escaping from the back of your throat, and Echo smiles.
“I like that,” you murmur, turning your head and capturing his lips in another kiss.
“Yeah?” He grins, his teeth catching on your bottom lip. “I’ve got plenty more.”
He slides his hand under your shirt, his palm splayed out on your stomach. You suck in a breath, your muscles twitching under his touch. You lips part against his, your tongue sliding into his mouth, and Echo moans, his fingers flexing against your skin.
His fingers dance up your side, tracing the curve of your ribs, and your back arches into him, your hips rocking against his. When his tongue dips between your lips and you suck on it, his brain short-circuits, and he thrusts his hips up into yours, his erection straining against his briefs.
“Cyare,” Echo whispers, his voice hoarse. He forces himself to remain still, his grip tightening on your hips, trying to control himself.
You don’t seem to notice, content with dipping your head to brush your lips along the line of his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Echo,” you say, and his name sounds like a prayer on your lips.
“Cyare.”
You hum, your teeth grazing his earlobe, and his hips jerk up involuntarily.
“Cyare,” he rasps, his hand trembling, his head falling back as your lips move to his collarbone. His fingers tighten, squishing the soft flesh of your hip, and you let out a low moan, your thighs clenching around him.
He has a brief moment of clarity, wondering if this is too fast, if he’s going to scare you off. But then you are grinding down against him, and he can feel the heat of you through your shorts, and he forgets how to breathe.
“Please, Echo.” You gasp, rocking against him, and his hips roll into yours. Your lips are hot against his neck, your hands roam over his shoulders, his chest.
“Are you sure?” He asks, his voice shaking. “I don’t want to —”
“Yes,” you whisper. You take his face in your hands, tilting his chin up to meet your eyes. You kiss the corner of his mouth, and then his lips, his tongue. “Yes, I’m sure. Please, Echo.”
“I love you,” he tells you, his voice thick.
“I love you too,” you breathe, and Echo loses himself in you.
“Cyare.” He says again, his voice a low growl.
He pulls you into him, and you let out a surprised yelp. He surges forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His hand slips beneath your shirt, sliding up your back, and you arch into him, your skin burning beneath his touch.
His lips trail down your neck, his tongue darting out to taste your skin, and you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“Tell me to stop,” he rasps, his breath hot against your skin. Your hips buck against him, and he groans, his hand sliding lower.
“No.”
His hand continues its path, cupping your ass, pulling you flush against him, and you let out a whine, rolling your hips into his. His fingers inch under the waistband of your shorts, tracing the edge of your underwear.
Echo groans, his teeth scraping your collarbone, and your hips jerk against him, your breath catching. His entire body is aching for you, desperate to feel your skin against his.
“Tell me to stop,” he says again, his voice strained.
“Never,” you reply, your breath hitching as he nips at your shoulder.
“Kriff, you’re killing me, cyare.”
You whimper, your nails scratching his scalp.
“Tell me you want me,” Echo whispers, his hand slipping underneath your underwear to grab a handful of your ass. He grips you, tugging you closer, and you hiss as his erection presses directly against your clit.
“I want you,” you breathe, your legs wrapping around his waist. He stands, lifting you up easily, and your arms wrap around his neck, your lips meeting his in a heated kiss.
He carries you down the hallway to your bedroom, pausing in the doorway. He breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” you nod, your lips brushing his. “Are you?”
He closes his eyes, sucking in a breath. “I just should warn you I’m not…Tech wasn’t kidding when he said I’m more machine than man. I have scars and wires, and I —"
“Hey,” you cut him off, your hands coming up to frame his face. You press a soft kiss to his lips. “If you want to stop, tell me, and we’ll stop. I love you, Echo. All of you. And I’m not going anywhere.”
Echo lets out a shuddering breath, nodding. “Alright.”
You smile, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “Good. Now take me to bed.”
He smirks, his grip on you tightening. He leans down, his lips ghosting over yours.
“Whatever you want, cyare.”
You gasp, your head falling back as his lips latch onto your throat, and Echo kicks the door closed behind him.
Your nails digging into his back, you tighten your legs around his waist, and you grind your hips against his, a low moan escaping you. It throws him off balance, and he bumps against the bedpost before turning and sitting down on the edge of the mattress.
He settles you on his lap, your knees bracketing his hips, and his hand tangles in your hair, pulling your lips to his. He kisses you, hard and desperate, and your fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt, your teeth sinking into his lower lip.
“You should probably take this off,” you murmur as you pull away, pushing the material up. He reluctantly leans back to pull it over his head, then reaches out to help you with yours.
The sight of your breasts, bare and heaving in front of him makes his mouth go dry. You are perfect, your skin flushed and glowing, and his hand slides up your side, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast.
“Kriff, you’re gorgeous.” He your breast in his hand, his thumb brushing across the stiff peak of your nipple, and you moan, arching into his touch.
He dips his head, closing his mouth around the other, and you cry out, your hands clutching his shoulders.
Echo swirls his tongue around your nipple, his other hand kneading your breast. He feels you shiver, your hips rocking against him, and he groans, his cock straining against the confines of his briefs, desperate to be buried inside you.
You are so soft and warm, and you taste so good, and he can’t stop touching you, can’t get enough. His tongue dances over the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing, and you arch into him, letting out a strangled moan. Hhis scomp arm wraps around your waist, holding you in place, and he sucks hard, his tongue flicking across your nipple.
“Echo,” you pant, your hips grinding down against him, seeking friction. He lets out a low growl, his lips trailing over your breast to the other, his teeth sinking into the flesh.
“So perfect,” he murmurs, his tongue swirling around the peak, his lips closing over it. “I could spend all night doing this, cyare.”
Your breath hitches, and you writhe against him, your nails scratching his scalp. He releases your breast with a wet pop, his lips trailing along your ribs, his tongue darting out to taste the salt of your skin. You shudder, your breath coming in short pants, and he can’t help but grin, enjoying the way you are coming undone for him.
His fingers find the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down your hips. You lift yourself off him long enough for him to slide them down your legs, your underwear going with them, sticking slightly to the wetness pooling between your thighs.
You sit naked on his lap, your thighs parted, and he nearly loses it.
“Fuck,” Echo breathes, his hand moving to your waist, squeezing gently. You are soaked, your folds glistening, and he has to bite his lip to keep from coming right then and there.
“What?” You ask, a hint of nervousness creeping into your voice.
“Just trying not to embarrass myself,” he mutters, and your eyebrows shoot up.
“You mean…?” Your eyes flicker down to the tented fabric of his briefs, the growing wet spot.
“Yeah,” he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his cheeks burning.
“That’s kinda hot,” you tease, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear.
"Don’t get smug,” he growls. His hand slides up your inner thigh, and you gasp as his fingers slip between your folds, his thumb circling your clit.
“Oh!” You moan, your hips jerking forward, and Echo smiles.
“There we go,” he whispers, his fingers stroking you, rubbing small circles around your clit.
Your head falls back, your hips rocking against him, and he bites down on your shoulder, his cock throbbing.
“Echo, please,” you beg, your breath hot against his ear.
He lets out a shuddering breath, his fingers dipping lower, teasing at your entrance. “Is this what you want, cyare?”
You whine, chasing after his hand as it pulls away, and he laughs softly, nipping at the juncture of your neck and shoulder.
“Echo,” you whimper, and his breath catches in his throat.
“Tell me,” he commands, his fingers dipping just barely inside you, making you moan.
“Yes! Please, Echo, please,” you plead, your voice high and desperate.
“Come here."
Echo maneuvers you both so he has room to lay back on the bed, pulling your hand to get you to follow him. You do so eagerly, straddling his hips, your thighs bracketing his.
You grind your hips against his, and he groans, his fingers digging into your hip. His cock is trapped between your bodies, your slick heat teasing him through his briefs, and he has to fight the urge to roll you onto your back and thrust into you.
Instead, he moves his hand and scomp down to cup your ass, lifting you up slightly. He moves his mouth to your nipple, his teeth grazing the stiff peak.
You arch into him, your nails raking down his chest, and he groans, his tongue swirling around you nipple. He moves his lips to your other breast, his teeth scraping against you, and you cry out, your hips jerking.
"Please,” you whimper, your thighs trembling.
Echo releases your breast, his mouth moving to your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin, and he nudges you higher until you are straddling his chest.
He lifts his head, his lips moving to your stomach. He plants a trail of kisses down your belly, his tongue darting out to tease the crease of your hip. You gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders.
Echo pauses, glancing up at you. Your eyes are dark, your pupils blown wide, and he smirks, his fingers digging into your thigh. He can smell your arousal, the sweet scent of you making his cock twitch, and his heart pounds in his chest.
“Sit on my face,” he growls, and your eyes widen.
“W-what?” You stammer.
“Sit on my face.” He repeats, his voice firm.
“But—”
“I want to taste you, cyare,” he murmurs, his hand sliding down your thigh.
You hesitate, chewing on your lower lip. Then you slowly shift your weight, moving until you are hovering over his face, your legs trembling. Your hands rest on the headboard in front of you, hovering uncertainly above his head.
“Good girl,” he praises, and your thighs clench. He grins, his hand cupping your ass, and he tilts his head up, pressing a soft kiss to your mound.
He takes a deep breath, savoring the moment. You are so wet, your folds glistening, and he wants nothing more than to bury his face between your thighs and lose himself in you.
Slowly, he guides you down, his hand moving to the back of your thigh, coaxing you to settle against him.
The first tentative swipe of his tongue is almost enough to make him lose it, the taste of you flooding his senses. He can’t see your expression, but the loud, surprised moan when his mouth makes contact is more than enough. You gasp, your hands clutching the headboard, and he does it again, dragging his tongue through your folds.
He moans, his eyes falling closed. You are perfect, You are already so wet, your essence coating his tongue and dripping down his chin. His hand moves from your thigh to grab a handful of your ass, pulling you closer.
His lips find your clit, and you let out a high pitched cry, your hips bucking.
“Echo,” you whimper as he sucks, his tongue flicking across the sensitive bud, and his cock twitches at the sound of his name on your lips.
Echo moans, his tongue circling your clit, and you rock against him, your breath hitching.
“Echo,” you repeat, your knuckles whitening as you clench them around the headboard. “Fuck.”
You’re shaking, your thighs clenching around his head, and he groans, his tongue circling your clit before moving down to slip inside of your entrance.
You let out a ragged gasp, your hips bucking against him. He pulls you down, his tongue fucking you deeper, and you moan, your head falling back. Your walls are slick, warm and tight, and he can’t get enough.
Echo feels your fingers gripping his head tightly as you rock your hips against his mouth. He keeps a steady pace, licking and sucking, and you gasp, your thighs trembling.
Echo glances up, catching a glimpse of your face, and his cock twitches. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted, your eyes squeezed shut. He can feel you getting closer, your walls clenching around him. He pulls away, his tongue darting out to swipe a broad stroke up your slit, and you groan, your hips jerking forward. His tongue moves to your clit, lapping at you, and a loud moan escapes you.
“Don’t stop,” you gasp, your hips rolling, seeking more friction. “Please, Echo.”
He chuckles, his hand moving to squeeze your ass. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
He slides a finger inside you, then two, his mouth closing over your clit, his tongue circling, teasing.
“So close,” you whine, your walls tightening around him. “Please, I’m —”
He curls his fingers, sucking hard, and you let out a muffled scream, your hips jerking against his mouth.
Your thighs tighten around his head, your hands gripping the headboard so tightly, and he groans as you come apart, your release coating his tongue and fingers.
He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, his tongue and fingers continuing their assault, and your orgasm stretches, drawing out, the waves crashing through you, leaving you breathless.
Finally, you collapse against the headboard, your thighs shaking, your breathing heavy. Echo slowly slips his fingers out of you, and you whimper, your eyes fluttering open.
“Echo,” you murmur, your head falling forward. He gives you a few more lazy strokes with his tongue before letting you move away. You’re panting, your face flushed and covered with a sheen of sweat, and he can’t help but grin at the sight.
He moves you down so that you’re straddling his chest and he can see you properly. You look good like this, your hair mussed, your eyes glassy, your body still trembling with aftershocks.
He wipes his chin with the back of his hand and grins. “Good girl.”
“Kriff,” you moan, bending over to bury your face in his neck. You are still trembling, and he feels a surge of pride, knowing he did that.
“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice teasing.
You let out a low groan. “Shut up.”
Echo chuckles as he feels your lips moving against his skin - planting a series of light kisses along his jaw and darting out to taste the skin just beneath his ear.
His breath hitches, and you take advantage of his reaction, your lips trailing down his throat, biting at the base.
“Kriff, cyare,” Echo moans, his cock throbbing.
You lift yourself up to shuffle backwards, giving him another glimpse at your beautiful, glistening and soaked pussy. His cock twitches, and he can’t stop himself from reaching out to stroke your clit. You shudder and spread your legs slightly.
“Fuck,” Echo moans as his eyes travel down your body, taking in every inch of bare, smooth skin. Your breasts are heaving, your nipples tight, and he can see the goosebumps forming on your skin.
You smirk, arching your back slightly.
“See something you like?” You tease.
“Yes,” Echo groans, his fingers slipping between your folds. “Everything.”
Mindful of overstimulating you, he keeps his touch light, his fingertips just brushing the edges of your entrance, not daring to dip any deeper. You let out a soft whimper, arching your back.
“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his fingers sliding up and down. “So fucking perfect.”
You whimper, your hips bucking as his fingers find your clit, tracing small circles.
“Again?” You ask, a hint of desperation creeping into your voice.
“Again,” Echo agrees, his fingers moving faster, his thumb rubbing the swollen bud. “I could spend all day doing this, cyare.”
Your head falls forward, your mouth open, and you gasp as he rubs harder, his fingers stroking your clit, his thumb tracing small circles.
“Please, Echo,” you beg, your hips rocking, seeking more friction.
“You’re close,” he whispers, his finger dipping inside you, his thumb continuing its ministrations. “You like that, huh?”
You whimper and shift your hips. “Yes.”
“Yeah, I bet you do.” He slides another finger into you, curling them, and you moan as your walls tighten around him. He can feel the warmth of you, the slickness coating his fingers, and he groans.
“So good,” he murmurs as his fingers pump in and out of you, your hips rocking against him. “So wet for me, aren’t you?”
You gasp, your hips bucking. “Echo.”
He can feel you clenching around him, and he can’t resist adding a third finger. You let out a loud moan, your back arching, and he grins. “That’s it, cyare. You gonna cum for me again?”
You nod, your eyes squeezed shut, and he can feel your walls fluttering around him.
“I wanna see it,” he growls, his fingers picking up the pace. “I wanna see your pretty cunt cum on my fingers.”
You gasp, your thighs trembling, and he can feel the tight coil in his stomach winding tighter.
“Yes,” you breathe, jerking your hips even more. “I’m close. I’m gonna—”
“That’s right,” he groans. “Cum for me. Let me hear you.”
With a low moan, your back arches and your walls clench around his fingers. Echo’s hips buck, his cock throbbing as your release covers his hand, dripping down his wrist and forearm.
“Fuck,” you moan, your eyes squeezed shut, your mouth open, a soft whine escaping you.
“Yeah, there we go,” he whispers, his fingers continuing their movement, drawing out your orgasm.
When you finally relax, your head falls forward, and you let out a low moan. Echo’s fingers slow, his movements becoming lazy, and he leans forward to press a gentle kiss to your temple.
“Good girl,” Echo whispers, his scomp arm wrapping around your waist.
“Fuck, Echo, what the fuck.” Your eyes flutter open, and you look down at him, your face flushed. “That was…what the fuck.”
“Are you alright?” he asks, his tone teasing.
“Yes,” you say, nodding. “Shit.”
He chuckles and removes his fingers from you. You whimper and grip his biceps, digging your nails into his flesh. You both moan at the sight of your juices coating his hand, his fingers shiny and wet.
You reach down and grasp his hand, bringing it up to your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lap at your slickness, and his cock throbs.
“Fuck,” Echo groans as he watches you clean his fingers with your tongue, your eyes never leaving his. His eye contact breaks as you take his index finger into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around the digit.
“Fuck, cyare,” Echo gasps, his cock twitching.
Your tongue wraps around his middle finger, and his hips buck involuntarily, his cock brushing against your thigh. You let out a muffled moan, your eyes fluttering shut, and he lets out a ragged breath.
“Kriff,” he breathes, his eyes glued to your mouth. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”
You smirk, your tongue trailing down his index finger, then moving to his ring finger. He can’t help but rock his hips, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through him.
Your eyes flutter open and lock on his, and he bites back a groan. The sight of you is almost too much to bear. Your mouth is so hot, your lips soft and plump, and the way your tongue dances over his fingers has him panting and his cock throbbing.
“Such a good girl.” His voice is low and thick with lust, and you let out a muffled whimper.
His scomp comes up to rest on the back of your neck, and you tilt your head back, letting his finger slide deeper into your mouth. Your cheeks hollow, and he moans, his hips grinding against yours.
You hum in response, and his cock twitches, a bead of pre-cum leaking out.
“Come here.” He pulls you down to kiss you, his tongue swiping across your lips. You gasp, opening your mouth to allow his tongue entrance. His cock is straining against his briefs, his tip pressed against your core.
He swallows your moans as he rocks his hips, rubbing his length against your sensitive flesh.
“I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you mumble against his lips, your fingers curling into his briefs.
“Oh?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.
“Yeah,” you breathe, tugging at the waistband. “Can I?”
Echo sucks in a breath, his heart pounding. “Only if you want to, cyare.”
“I do,” you murmur as you scoot back. Your fingers dipping below the fabric, and Echo hisses as they ghost along the tip of his cock.
You smile, your fingers curling around the base of his shaft, and Echo moans, his hips rocking, seeking more friction. “Can I, Echo?”
“Let me help you,” he offers, shifting your position so that you are both sitting up.
Echo moves you off him and sits on the edge of the bed. Getting fully undressed is always a challenge with his cybernetics, and things tend to get caught if he isn’t careful. But the way you look at him makes it all worthwhile.
You settle behind him, your hands moving to his back. You trace the scars there, your fingertips featherlight, and he shivers, his eyes closing.
You place a soft kiss between his shoulder blades, your hands moving down to rest on his hips. You press another kiss to the nape of his neck, then another, and another.
Echo’s heart swells, and he can’t help but moan as you move down, your lips trailing along his spine. Your hands slip around his waist, your fingers tracing the scarred tissue of his legs.
“So handsome,” you whisper, and he feels his cheeks heat. “Beautiful.”
Echo shudders, his breath hitching. He’s always been insecure about his body, and you know this. You always know how to make him feel good about himself, how to make him forget.
“Cyare,” he murmurs, turning his head to look over his shoulder at you. You are sitting behind him, and when you meet his gaze, he sees the desire burning in your eyes.
You move around to the front of him, your hands gliding up his thighs. Your eyes lock onto his, your fingers trailing along the waistband of his boxers. He lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them off, and you toss them aside, a wicked smirk spreading across your lips.
You settle between his legs, and Echo feels his heart race, his cock throbbing.
“You’re gorgeous,” you whisper, your hand wrapping around his shaft.
He hisses, his eyes falling closed, his hips bucking involuntarily. Your thumb rubs circles over the tip, spreading the moisture that has gathered there.
Your lips meet his, your tongue sweeping into his mouth, and he groans, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. He can feel your grin against his lips, your grip tightening on his cock.
He breaks the kiss, his head falling back, and you kiss him again, your lips moving to his jaw. You trail kisses along his throat, your teeth grazing his skin.
Your hand pumps up and down, your fingers teasing the underside of his cock, and he shudders, his hips jerking.
“Cyare,” he growls, and you smile, your tongue darting out to lick a stripe up his throat.
Your grip tightens, your thumb brushing the tip, and his hips jerk again, a groan escaping him. Your free hand moves to cup his balls, and he hisses, his hips bucking.
“Kriff,” he breathes, his cock throbbing.
“So good,” you purr, your hand stroking him.
He grunts, his eyes fluttering shut, his hips rocking. Your tongue traces his collarbone, and he moans, his head falling back.
“You’re so big,” you murmur, your lips brushing the base of his neck. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”
“Cyare,” Echo growls, his hips thrusting up, his cock aching. “Don’t tease.”
You laugh, your teeth nipping at his throat. “Patience, handsome.”
He growls again, his hand tugging at your hair. “I want to cum in that pretty little cunt of yours.”
“Then why don’t you?” You ask, your hand slowing.
“You’re in charge,” Echo groans, his eyes snapping open. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“I want to feel you,” you murmur, your lips ghosting along his throat.
“Anything you want,” Echo moans, his head falling back, his hips thrusting up, seeking more friction. “Just say the word.”
“Echo,” you whine, your hand moving up and down, your thumb rubbing the tip. “Fuck me, Echo.”
Echo’s eyes fly open, his hips jerking, and he moans, his hand wrapping around your wrist. “Cyare.”
Your lips brush against his ear, and you whisper, “I want to feel you inside me, Echo. I want you to fill me up.”
“I want to fuck you into this mattress, believe me,” he growls, his voice low. “But I don’t want to crush you.”
The thought is almost too much, the idea of you underneath him, your body pressed against his, his cock buried deep inside you, and his resolve wavers for a moment. But his prosthetics are heavy, and the last thing he wants is for you to get hurt. You can figure out the logistics another time.
“Okay.” You assure him, your hand moving up to cup his cheek. “Okay.”
You stand up, and he watches as you move onto the bed, your movements slow and deliberate. He’s just starting to convince himself you’re going to listen to his warning until you turn, maneuvering yourself onto your hands and knees, presenting yourself to him.
Your back is arched, your hips pushed out, your ass and cunt on display for him, and his jaw drops.
“Kriff,” he whispers.
“Please, Echo,” you breathe. “I need you.”
“Fuck.” Echo curses, his heart racing.
You’re so beautiful like this, your ass up, your pussy glistening with your arousal.
“Is that a yes?” You tease, your voice low, wiggling your hips enticingly.
“Yes,” he growls, and you let out a satisfied little purr, watching him as he climbs back onto the bed.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, running a hand along your back. He shifts forward and positions himself behind you, his hand squeezing your ass. “Fuck.”
“Stop teasing,” you say, wiggling your hips. Echo’s cock twitches at the sight, and he guides it between your legs, rubbing it against your wetness.
“Please, Echo.”
You look back at him, and he locks eyes with you as he sinks into you. You’re so wet, your heat enveloping him. Your eyes close, your lips part, a moan escaping you.
His hips snap forward, his cock thrusting into you, and you both groan at the feeling of him filling you completely. Echo pulls your hips closer, his scomp arm wrapping around your stomach. He starts to thrust, slowly at first but quickly picking up speed. Your hands scramble for purchase against the sheets, your head falling forward as he moves. His hand grips your hips, your back, your thigh, anything he can reach.
You feel so good, so warm and soft and wet. He buries his face in your hair, his mouth pressing hot kisses against your neck, his teeth nipping your ear.
He feels your walls clench around him, and he growls, his hand sliding between your legs. His fingers find your clit, stroking it in time with his thrusts, and you cry out, your body shaking.
“Fuck,” you breathe, and Echo grins.
“Yes,” he groans, his fingers working faster, his cock pounding into you.
You’re so tight, so perfect, and he knows he won’t last long.
Echo’s rhythm grows faster, his hips slamming against you, his cock driving deeper inside you. His scomp arm tightens around you, and he can feel you trembling. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him is almost too much, your slick walls tightening around him.
“Please, cyar'ika,” he chokes out, his voice hoarse.
“I’m close,” you moan. “Harder.”
He picks up the pace, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper into you on each thrust. You let out a gasp, your head falling forward as your body rocks, your ass grinding against him.
Echo leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, his cock pushing even deeper into you.
“You’re taking my cock so well, sweetheart,” he growls in your ear, his fingers circling your clit. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard.”
You whimper, and Echo feels your walls flutter around him. Your thighs clench, your toes curling, and he groans, his scomp arm holding you close, his hand still working between your legs.
“Fuck,” you moan, your nails scratching against the sheets, and he can feel you start to shake.
“Yes,” he growls, his cock slamming into you.
“Echo,” you whimper. “Echo, I —”
Your words are cut off with a cry, and your muscles spasm around him as you come. Your cunt pulses around him, and he lets out a choked gasp, his cock pulsing. He fucks you through your orgasm, his thrusts growing erratic. He isn’t going to last much longer.
“That’s it,” he groans, his hips grinding against you, his hand moving down to caress your ass. “Fuck, I’m so close.”
“Come inside me,” you plead.
“Fuck, I’m —” he chokes out.
His scomp arm loosens around you, his hand gripping your hip. “Don’t stop,” you beg, your hand coming down to grip his scomp and guide it back to your stomach. “Please. I want to feel you."
His thrusts become more erratic, his breathing ragged. His hips jerk forward, and he comes with a hoarse shout, his cock throbbing. His cum coats your walls, filling you, and you moan, your head falling back.
For a moment, he’s suspended in the aftershocks, his hips grinding against you, his cock still twitching inside you. It almost feels too good to be real, and he doesn’t want it to end, but slowly, he regains control of himself.
He slides his hand from your hip, letting his forehead rest against your back. He breathes you in, your scent making his cock twitch again. He can feel you trembling, your muscles relaxing, and you let out a contented sigh. He places a kiss between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around you to hold you against him.
His hips shift slightly, and you clamp down around him, a gasp escaping you. He can’t resist the temptation, and his hips rock against you, his cock sliding deeper.
"Oh, stars,” you whimper, your muscles clenching around him. “Kriff.”
“Good girl,” he murmurs, his scomp arm pulling you closer. He kisses your shoulder, his lips trailing along your spine.
“So full,” you gasp.
“Do you want me to pull out?” He asks, his hand cupping your breast, his thumb stroking your nipple.
“No,” you moan, your head falling forward. “Just stay there for a moment.”
He does, his hand moving to caress your hips. He can feel you trembling, your walls clenching around him, and you let out a ragged gasp as his cock pulsates inside you.
You stay like that for a while longer before he finally shifts his hips, his legs aching, and pulls his cock out of you. You let out a disappointed groan as your body clamps down around nothing. He watches, transfixed, as the thick white liquid oozes from you, coating your folds.
“Beautiful,” he whispers, his hand moving down to gather some on his fingertips. He brings his hand up to your lips, his finger pushing past them, and you suck on it eagerly.
“Mmhmm,” you hum, your tongue swirling around his finger.
He pulls his finger from your mouth, wiping it on the sheets, and kneels next to you off the bed.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” Your voice is hoarse, your eyes half-lidded.
“Let’s get you cleaned up.”
“Okay,” you mumble, and he lifts you off the bed. You lean into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he carries you to the fresher.
You shower together and Echo carefully washes every inch of your body with a gentle touch. You begin to rouse, your eyes becoming more alert, and he can see the blush creep over your cheeks.
“Thank you,” you murmur, your lips pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You trail your lips over the sharp line of his jaw, and he lets out a contented sigh, his hand stroking your back.
“Anytime, cyare,” he replies, his scomp arm pulling you close, his nose nuzzling against yours.
The exhaustion seeps into both of your bodies, and you towel off before Echo scoops you up in his arms and carries you back to bed, ignoring your protests that you can walk.
You crawl into bed, and Echo wraps his arms around you, pulling you against him. You nestle into his side, your head resting on his chest, your arm draped over his torso. He places a kiss on the top of your head, his hand tracing patterns along your spine. It feels so right having you here, and he wishes it could always be this way.
“Echo?” You murmur softly.
“Yes?”
“I love you,” you mumble, your voice muffled against his chest.
“I love you too,” he says, his heart swelling. “So much.”
“I’m gonna have a really hard time letting you go again,” you admit with your eyes closed.
Echo swallows hard, feeling a tightness in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s going to have a hard time leaving you again too.
But he doesn’t want to think about that right now. Not when he has you in his arms. He holds you tighter, his hand caressing your back, his lips pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head.
“Me too, cyare.”
“You’ll come back, right?” you ask, your voice small.
“Always.”
You sigh, your hand curling into a fist on his chest. He reaches down, smoothing it out. “Get some sleep,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Stay with me,” you plead, your eyes opening to look up at him. He isn’t sure if you mean just for the night, or forever, and he isn’t going to ask.
“As long as I can,” he promises, and he feels you relax against him.
It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, your breathing evening out, your chest rising and falling. He watches you for a while, his thumb brushing across your cheek, his heart aching. He knows he should get some sleep too, but his mind won’t stop racing.
He is going to have to leave you again. You’ll be alone. Again. It is the right thing to do, and he knows that, but it doesn’t make it any easier. It doesn’t make him want to take you with him any less.
He wants to. Kriff, he wants to. It would be dangerous, but you could do it. It’s selfish, and he knows it, but he wants to have you in his arms every night, have your voice in his ear, your body pressed against his.
Echo closes his eyes, pulling you closer, and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He tries to quiet his mind, to clear his thoughts. He doesn’t know how long he lies there, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing. Finally, he feels you stir against him, your fingers flexing against his chest.
“I can feel your heartbeat,” you murmur, your hand moving down to rest over his heart. Your fingers tap gently. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” he lies, his hand reaching up to brush the hair from your face. “Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“Everything,” he replies, his fingers ghosting along your cheek. “Nothing.”
You prop yourself up, and his arm slides from your shoulders to wrap around your waist. Your fingers brush his cheek, and he leans into your touch. “Talk to me, Echo.”
“What’s there to say, cyare?” He whispers, his gaze shifting back to the ceiling. “I’m here, but only for a little while. Then I have to leave again. I have to go, and you have to stay. And we don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”
“I don’t have to stay here, Echo. You know that, right?“ you ask quietly, and his gaze snaps back to you, his eyes locking with yours. "If you want me to come with you, all you have to do is say the word.”
“I can’t do that to you, cyare.” His voice is low, his jaw clenching.
“You can’t do what?”
“Put you in danger. Make you live in fear again. Make you run from one hiding place to another.”
“Echo, you’re not making me do anything. I want to help.” You pause, searching his face. “I want to be with you.”
“But it’s dangerous,” he protests. He can hear how his voice wavers, and he clears his throat. “You could get hurt. I can’t lose you. I can’t.”
“You won’t,” you insist.
“How can you be so sure?”
“I’m not,” you say. “But I’d rather die knowing I was fighting for something important than live my life pretending it doesn’t exist. I’d rather fight beside you than spend my life wondering if you’re okay.”
“But…” Echo trails off, his mind spinning. He knows he can’t deny that you’re right. That’s part of the reason he was drawn to you, isn’t it? You have a strength, a resolve that few people possess.
“Let me help,” you plead. “I’m not saying you have to drag me everywhere you go, but let me do something. Let me help you. We can figure something out.”
Echo’s mind races, trying to find some excuse to put you off. But the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense. You are a damn good medic, and if they can find a way to keep you safe, you could be a valuable asset. And, kriff, the thought of having you close again, of seeing you every day, of having someone else on his side…it’s tempting.
“Please,” you murmur, your hand cupping his face. Your thumb rubs soothing circles into his cheekbone, and he can feel his resolve slipping with every touch.
“We can talk to the others,” he finally says. “See what they think.”
“Okay.” You press a soft kiss to his forehead, his nose, his lips, and he sighs, his hand moving to the small of your back.
“Thank you,” you murmur, settling back down on his chest.
“For what?”
“Giving me a chance.”
“Of course.” He wraps his arm around your waist, his hand rubbing your back. He wants to tell you that he will always give you a chance. That he will never let anyone else come between you. That he will always protect you, no matter what. But he doesn’t. It’s too much, too soon.
Instead, he pulls you close, his lips brushing the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispers.
“I love you, too.”
The two of you lay like that for a while, the silence enveloping the room, only the sound of the distant ocean and the chirping of the night bugs filling the air.
Finally, he feels your breathing slow, and he knows you’ve fallen asleep again.
Echo closes his eyes, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin, his heart heavy in his chest. He’s not sure if he can let you do this. If he can put you in danger like that. But, kriff, he doesn’t want to say goodbye to you again either.
He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you. You murmur something unintelligible, your nose burying into his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and he hopes, against all odds, that he’ll never have to let go.
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Heavy In Your Arms
A/N: We didn't get enough time at High Camp. I swear, it was the perfect setting for hurt/comfort. Forever upset about it.
Word Count: 5.5K
Warnings: Explicit smut. Aged Up characters. Talks of PTSD and war. Injuries. Blood. Angst. Cursing. Oral Sex(male receiving). Riding. Service Top Neteyam. Reader with a praise kink.
Summary: You and Neteyam find moments of peace during the war. Neteyam x Fem! Omaticaya Reader
I was a heavy heart to carry,
My beloved was weighted down.
My arms around his neck,
My fingers laced a crown- Florence & The Machine
Life can change in an instant.
One moment, things are as they have always been. Your existence a well loved pattern, easy and comfortable in the Forests of Pandora.
You had been born after the Long War, after the evil Tawtute had been sent back to their dying planet. You had only ever known peace and kind humans like the scientist that lived in the rickety out post. You’d only ever known the rich and abundant rule of Toruk Makto, Jake led your people to victory and prosperity. The Omatikayan Village had been a beautiful one to grow up in, colorful and cheerful and thriving despite all that it had endured.
Your days had been filled with community and childlike wonder.
That had all changed when the Sky People returned. When they set fire to the Forests just to watch the Great Mother bleed.
Your naivety had been stolen, snatched away by uncontrollable circumstances.
By war.
High Camp is nestled deep within the Ayram Alusing hidden in a twisting impenetrable cave system.
It is bustling and busy and just bit cramped.
The Omatikaya are a resilient people and even through forceful uprooting had managed to make due of the space given. The Stronghold is littered with Canvas tents and woven mats. Small burning fires, and a larger one for the communal meals that are so desperately needed after long days battle.
You spend most of your time in the main healers keklu, working tirelessly with Mo’at and the other medicine leaders. You’d never been much of a healer, always more of a story teller. You’d get lost in the tales of old, in the songs of the ancient ones, but since the invasion, most had honed their medical craft.
It was all hands on deck, wherever you could be helpful you would be.
It’s good. Keeping your hands full is a good thing. It helps to distract your restless mind.
The War Party had left early in the morning- the sun still hiding behind the shadow of the eclipse, and had still not returned yet. You fear that it might be one of those missions, the kind that lasts days and leaves the village in shambles as they wait for the return of the warriors.
You’re grinding Ti’ku’klu seeds into a fine paste, your arm tired as you stare wordlessly into nothing.
The healers tent is quiet, filled with only low chatter and the crackling of the fire, the boiling of the pot that contains a potent medicine. One that needs to be kept hot and steaming. You cant seem to be present, to keep up with conversation when your mind is so far away- soaring over the forest. Focused on the unseen battle
This would be a dangerous one, you’d heard the whispers of the people. The humans were growing sick of the raids. They had heavy precautions laid out- would kill any Na’vi on sight. You trusted your Olo’eyktan whole heartedly, truly, you did.
But the thought of having to lay any more of your brothers and sisters to rest made bile raise in your throat like acid. There had been so much death, so much loss.
You sneak a peek at the woman next to you as she works in sorting bandages.
Zephya is only a few years older than you- and yet the light seems to be gone from her eyes. Dimmed down to something small and wilting. You’d never forget the piercing sound of her cries, echoing off the rock cave walls as her munxatan’s (husbands) body was brought back from the last raid.
Another round of nauseating anxiousness churns in your stomach.
You dont know if you could survive it…
Would you be forced to? Would this war force you to watch the ones you loved die?
The thought of losing your own lover is enough to send you free falling. Spiraling into your own mind.
“That is quite enough” Mo’at tuts her tongue in your direction and you stare at her with a wide, almost guilty expression. Had the Tsahik heard your thoughts? Sometimes you didnt doubt the elderly woman could, with all of her boundless knowledge and those all knowing amber eyes “You will destroy the paste, it is not meant to be so thin”
“Oh” you feel like dunce as you look down at the mortar and pestle in your hand “I apologize, I just wanted to make sure it was well mixed”
“Hmm” she doesn't call your bluff “Why dont you take a break. Go find more herbs, the fresh air wll clear your head. You’re no used to me here with thoughts so loud”
Her words are casual but her gaze is knowing and warm and you nod eagerly “Of course, Tsahik”
You’re happy for the break and the opportunity to stretch your legs, you stand quickly and exit the incense heavy area.
Everyone has gotten good at pretending.
At pretending they’re not terrified, at trying to go on with any semblance of normalcy. The scientists still gather near their trailers, facemasks on and typing away at holo tablets. The karyus’ still teach the younglings, their little giggles can be heard in the distance. You smile, a very practiced mask, at any you pass. Are pleasant. Friendly. Not betraying the inner turmoil you feel-
You’re jostled out of the heavy thoughts.
Nearly rushed straight on your ass, more like it.
“Oof-” the wind is knocked out of you as a small but solid weight collides with your side. You look down and find big golden eyes string up at you- golden eyes so familiar.
“Y/N! Hi!” Tuktirey is the youngest Sully, and probably the one you’ve always been the cloestst to. Back home, years ago, she’d become a bit enamored with you. More specifically, you’re weaving and jewelry crafting skills. Many teased that she was your shadow. “Look, look’it what I made”
You cant help but grin. Her joyful energy is contagious and you’re glad for the distraction. You take the necklace she shoves into your face delicately. Run your fingers over the rows of mis matched beads. She really is quite good.
“Very pretty, Tuk. You’re getting so good! Soon you;ll take my place- the whole clan will be trampling over themselves to wear one of your pieces” You’re words make her blush, make the smile on her face go a bit shy and bashful.
She looks so much like her brother it hurts.
“I did that thing you showed me! You’re right- sometimes the bigger beads need the little ones to anchor them”
Tuk is rarely quiet, always a babbling brook but even she isnt immune to the tense atmosphere that looms, to the toretoure that is waiting for the warriors to return. She talks about the necklace, but her tail flicks nervously behind her. At her side, a carved wooden Toruk toy hangs in her loose grip.
You figure, maybe you can distract her too.
You reach for the toy and she holds tight to it before sighing. You’re probably going to take it, she thinks. Tell her to stop being annoying. Chastise her the way that others had when she’d tried to get them to play with her. All day long, everyone had turned their heads or sighed in annoyance when she’d approached-
You raise the wooden Toruk above her head- and let out an undignified squawk. Your best impression of the mighty beast. It’s dismal, but it seems to satisfy the little girl who instantly breaks out into giggles.
“You better run, Tuk Tuk” you grown payfully, sending the toy into a nosedive “Before I eat you whole”
She shrieks and sets out running in the opposite direction and take after her, ignoring the stares. Should you be back in the medicine tent helping? Maybe. You’d rather play with the seven year old instead.
The two of you play for a while, until your thighs burn and your lungs hurt from laughing. You dont have the endurance of a child, she runs absolute circles around you. She’s fast and agle and quite obviously takes Neytiri’s lessons to heart, even at her young age. You can only use your size to you’re advantage, picking her writing squirming body up and spinning her round-
The horn is loud and echos through the rock walls of the cavernous case.
Both yours and Tuk’s ears swivel, perk up and stand to attention.
There it is. The calls of your people. The sounds of ikran wings flapping.
Tuk writhes in your hold, the back of her head connecting with your lip painfully as she hollers joyfully “They’re back!”
Shes off then, only sparing you a quick glance as you seem to stand there in daze, rubbing your slightly split lip lightly as your stomach does somersaults.
“Come on!” The little one hollers back at you and your feet carry you forward, seemingly of their own volition.
The crowds are building as the people make their way for the edge, where ikrans land by the dozen. Carrying the warriors on their back. Along the way, Kiri and Spider join you. Eagerly bouncing along, following an over animated Tuk.
Excitement and dread bubbles in your stomach, a horribly potent and toxic mix. It’s always like this when they return. When he returns. You’re so anxious to see him, physically there. Alive. So anxious that he might not be-
Your eyes are peeled for the familiar swirling green and blue patterns of Atanzaw, his ikran.
“Mom!” Tuk screeches, of course she spots them first.
Your eyes follow her,
Straight to him.
Neteyam.
He dismonts his ikran, alot less gracefully then his mother did. His actions sluggish and unlike him- it only takes you a moment to notice how injured he is. The bleeding wounds and bruises that litter his body arent pretty and hes limping, not putting his full weight on his right thigh. His face in smeared war paint- blacks and yellows and greens. They make him look intense, as he stangs tall and muscular and still fully dressed in his tsamsiyu(warrior)garb.
When his gaze meets yours your breath gets stuck in your throat.
Usually when he returns they’re bright. The adrenalin of the fight still cursing through his veins like wildfire- this time thats drained. His eyes are filled with barley concealed dread. Sharp with pain.
Your fingers itch and your chest aches, the invisible string that ties you to him taught. You want nothing more then to go to him-
“Sully’s, fall in” Jake’s voice is booming and stern. All Olo’eyktan. Marine. War leader. You can barley recognize him like this. So far away from the carefree doting father he’d always been.
-Its a small thing. A barely there shake of Netryam’s head but it sends a clear message. He doesn't want you to approach. When he turns away from you, giving you the necessary but cold shoulder your unsettled stomach lurches.
It’s like it plays out in slow motion, you watch the family from the edge. An outsider. Not welcome in their obviously private conversation. Even Spider, a human, get’s to be closer than you do.
You’re unwelcome.
The heated words. The way that Jake scolds his sons, you’re not supposed to be privy to it.
“Jesus, I let you two geniuses lead a fleet and you disobeyed direct orders!”
Those words hurt you, for him. You know that they must peirce right through Neteyam. He still hasnt looked back in your direction and you are sure he doesnt want you to bare witness to any of it.
You slink away, slowly falling back. Fading into the background of loved ones reuniting. Warriors returning, alive and dead. The clan welcoming them back with open arms. You wish, as you so often do, that you could welcome Neteyam the same. That you could run into his arms. Hold him the way you ache to after these difficult and dangerous missions-
You convince yourself that you are content with just knowing that he is alive, and make your way back to the healers tent where your presence is wanted.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
It gets so cold in the mountains. Frigidly so.
The wind whips through the caves, leaving a bone deep chill in their wake. You keep the fire at the center of your tent going all night long, and can normally be found crouching at it’s hearth. It’s been raining on and off all day, torrential down pour to drizzles- from the sound it seems as though it has finally stopped. Quieted down.
You wonder if the sky is clear and the stars are bright. You miss climbing high into the trees after the evening eclipse. Miss gazing at the constellations, miss basking in the Pandoran night and listening to the sound of the forests.
Mo’at had sent you home, demanding you get some sleep.
It had been three days since the soldiers had returned and they had been very busy. Full of tending to the wounded, and organizing for the dead. You’d thrown yourself headfirst into anytask that was given to you. Kept yourself busy. Useful.
You didnt have the time to mope and obsess over a man that was not yours.
That is what you told yourself at least.
This…thing that you and Neteyam shared didn't have a name or a definition. It had started out of loneliness, out of the desperation for comfort. Before the humans had come back and brought their war upon the clan, you dont think the future Olo’eyktan had ever really looked at you twice. Violence and hurt had pushed you into eachothers arms, both of you seeking companionship. Someone to weather the storm with.
It wasnt love. Not to him, you know that. He would marry a woman with high standing one day- one that could be his match. Become Tsahik.
That wouldnt be you.
For Eywa’s sake, you could barely do stitches. You messed up simple tasks like making salves. You would not delude yourself into thinking it was anything more. Many Na’vi couple without mating, pleasure isn't stigmatized in your community. That was all it was. A need for pleasure. Your body satiates him and that is all.
You cant go looking for him. Begging for his time or his touch.
So you sit by your fire, thread your necklaces, and long for the stars.
You’re humming a tune to yourself, something soft and gentle and melodic when theres a sudden shift. The canvas wall of your tent shakes and your stiffen, reaching for your knife that lies on the makeshift table next to your bed-
Neteyam slips through the flap- easy as anything. Smoothly, his motions fluid from all of those years of training.
Your eyes and mouth are wide open, ears lying low to your head.
“Hi” the man grins, boyish and handsome as ever.
As though he hadnt just broken into your home. It’s not like the two of you hadnt done this before, he’d spend many nights sneakily tucked inside your tent but he usually came through the front entrance.
“Vonva!(asshole)”you hiss at him, exasperated “You- ugh! I couldve stabbed you!”
He’s so handsome it makes you sick. He’s so tall and broad, a few of his braids falling into his face as his eyes sparkle with mirth “That would not be very nice of you, what have I done to deserve such a fate?”
“Breaking and entering is grounds for stabbing” you huff “you scared me!”
Neteyam steps forward a bit, hands out stretching to you, tone gentle “Hey, I didnt mean to scare you. I just wanted to see you is all, Im sorry”
You hate the way that you’re so easy for him. He ignores you for days, and then shows up unannounced and you’re jumping at any and all attention he may give you.
The way that as his large hands engulf the tops of your arms, you lean into his touch greedily.
“It’s fine. It's just- very late. I wasn't expecting anyone” you try to keep your tone even “I was actually about to go to bed”
“Oh?” Neteyam wonders, his tail flicking behind him “Can I join you?”
Your heart speeds up, if thats even possible. Both at his words and his tone. The insinuation right there. He had spent too much time in your bed that really, it shouldn't be a question. You'd always welcomed him into your nest of blankets, your warm arms. In between your soft thighs-
“I'm not sure that would be a good idea” you respond, stepping out of his hold.
Neteyam sags a bit, surprised. His ears swivel and his smile weans, tugging downwards at the corners of his full lips “Not a good idea? Why not?”
You shrug, not able to look directly at him. Instead focusing on his shoulders. His abdomen. He’s still all banged up, the bandaging covering his bruises are expertisley wrapped. Done by the Tsahik herself, obviously.
It’s the perfect excuse.
“You’re still hurt,” you insist ”You need to be careful, you don't want to reopen anything”
A smooth chuckle escapes him and makes a tingle run down your spine. He reaches out again, this time he grabs at your hand, leading it from its place awkwardly at your side to his chest. Pressing your palm gently against his warm skin.
“I'd like to stay with you tonight, if you’ll let me” Neteyam starts, you can feel the vibrations of his strong voice in your palm, pressed against the muscle “I may need you to be a little bit gentle with me though, paskalin”
You're quiet, lips quirked, stuck in your head for a moment as your fingers lightly trace over one of his stripes.
“Y/N, hey-” He seems to be more serious than before as he urges you to look at him “I'm not sure what’s wrong, but If you want me to go I will”
Everything in your body, your soul, protests at his words. There is no part of you that wants him to leave.
You’re being so stupid.
Neteyam could have anyone. Anyone. And he’s here, with you. So what if he doesnt love you. You have to take whatever you can get. You dont want him to find solace with anyone else, dont want him to leave and never return-
You lean in, where your hand is, on his strong chest and place a kiss to the edge of the bandaging. Its a small little thing, a barley there brush of your lips but still. When you look up at him through your lashes you know you must make quite the sight.
“Stay” you urge. “I want you to stay with me tonight,” everynight. ”Please?”
He looks unsure for just a moment, clearly thrown off by your conflicting mood, before he nods. He cups the side of your face then, forcing you to make eye contact with him. No matter how uncomfortably intense- you cant turn away.
“Can I kiss you?” His words make you quake. He hadnt asked, so explicitly, for months. Since the two of you were still fumbly and newly exploring eachothers bodies.
It makes butterflies erupt in your stomach, makes you giddiously nervous. You nod, way too hard “Mhmm”
And then he’s bending down, having to crouch because of how much taller he is, to capture your lips with his own.
Its always so good.
His mouth and the way it tastes and the way it makes you feel. Neteyam seems so sweet, everyone in the clan knows him as the Golden Boy. The perfect soldier- in privacay, in these stolen moments of intimacy, he’s anything but.
His kisses are dirty, all demanding tongue and nipping fangs. He kisses like a man whos trying to get his dick wet. Like he wants to pick you up, crush you to him. Rut into you-
And normally he would. Normally he tosses you around like nothing but a child’s ragdoll(and you let him), but he’s still hurt. Still tender and healing. When you wrap your arms around his shoulders and tug, trying to climb him like a tree, he hisses in pain,.
“Shit” you pull away from his mouth, your lips wet with his saliva “Sorry, I didnt mean to”
He just shakes his head, nuzzling at your cheek “It’s fine, I’m okay”
“Im hurting you” you argue.
“You’re not. Just- be gentle, okay?” Neteyam urges, trying to lean back into the kiss “Grandmother thinks they’ll heal quickly, but my ribs-” he breaks himself off, laughing a little strained. “I fucked them up pretty good”
You frown.
He always does this. Always downplays his pain. You will have none of it, you grab his hand and tug “Come, I will make you tea”
Neteyams hairless brows raise “You dont have to, I’m really fine”
“Bah” you lead him to your bed and push gently on his shoulders until he sits. “Enough, it is no trouble”
You keep an ornate clay kettle next to the fire, boiling water always ready. He watches you as you fiddle with the many little jars in your arsenal, collecting herbs here and there. Steeping them in the hot water before pouring him a steaming cup.
“Here- it is bitter, but it will dull the pain”
Neteyam accepts the tea with a small smile “Irayo(thank you)”
It’s nice having him in your space. In your bed amongst all of your softest things as the fire crackles and illuminates the tent in a warm glow.
The shadows it casts over his angular face make him look haunting. So beautiful.
You like to take care of things. Instruments. Broken pottery. Children. It comes naturally to you.
You dote on him even though he protests, check his bandages and make him drink the whole cup of strong leaf tea, before he lies down. You're perched beside him, still on the edge of the bed mat.
“I didn't come here to be nursed, Y/N” he sighs as you rub salve on one of his nastier bruises.
“Humor me” you reply wryly, your dainty fingers all over him.
It takes him a while to relax, as it always does.
But oh, its your favorite thing.
Watching his walls come down and the facade of Olo’eyktan in training slip. Neteyam is funny and witty and a downright gossip. You enjoy talking to him as much as you enjoy getting fucked by him.
You like that when given the opportunity and the ear to do so; he loves to talk. About any and everything. His deep voice is like a blanket, warming you up from the inside out.
“I feel bad. I sneak in here; scare you and then make you take care of me” He snorts, “You must be so sick of me”
“No” you reassure with gentle touches “Never that”
You dont really know what Neteyam sees in you.
You’re pretty enough- but far from the gorgeous warriors and dancers that throw themselves at him. But when he looks at you, like he is now, you know there must be something. Something that turns those eyes of his to molten amber. They’re hungry, you’ve never seen him look at anything the way he looks at you. Except maybe the prey that ends up victim to his arrows.
He makes you want to be good to him. Be good for him.
“I enjoy taking care of you” you whisper as you trace the leather cords of his tweng, your fingertips dipping dangerously below them. “Can I take care of you tonight, Neteyam? You want me to?”
Neteyam nods slowly, making room for you as you climb carefully over him. Spread his legs enough for you to settle between them.
You cant help it, cant help how much you touch. You cant get enough of the feeling of his strong body under your hands. All of that corded muscle, all of his pretty deep tahini speckled skin. His strong calves, his well built thighs.
When you reach where he’s hard, straining against his cloth, his eyes flutter closed. You rub him until he chubs up, all plump and hard. Until a patch of wetness starts to darken the cloth-
“Help me a little, sayrip(handsome)”you urge as you tug on the strings of his tweng. Neteyam lifts his slim hips, helps you shimmy it down his thighs-
You’ve seen him naked more times then you can count, now. But still. You’re always struck by it.
His cock springs free- thuds against his well toned lower stomach. Drooling and pulsing, the tanhi there exceptionally bright. He’s so pretty, so vulnerable that it goes to your head. Your leaning in, tongue first-
“Wait,” Neteyam gruffs, “I want to see you too”
Ah.
Neteyam was very partial to your body. He’d told you many times- would try to wrangle you out of your skirt whenever he got the chance.
You smile, raising up on your knees before tugging the gossamer top off, over your head, Your nipples are hard and peaked, reacting to the cold. You run your fingertips over them, knowing that he likes a show. He likes to watch. He props himself, arm behind his head as he does so, it feels so lewd to play with your breasts for him. To trail your hands slowly down your tummy, to your full hips- tugging on the strings of your own tweng.
When the mound of your pussy is revealed he groans, he can see the way your slick shines in the low fire light.
“Good Mother” Neteyam’s rough and demanding as he yanks on you, pulls you into a kiss “You’re so fucking sexy”
His kiss is fervent and you could so easily lose yourself to them- you know what he wants. He’s already inching closer to your hot wet slit, his big fingers kneading at your plush asscheeks.
“Lemme take care of you” your mumble is insistent, and he sighs. Letting you pull away. Letting you re situate yourself between his legs.
He just lays back flat once more, a lazy grin on his face. “Okay, baby. Take care of me”
You’d always loved giving pleasure with your mouth, and lovers you’d had before had told you how good you were at it. You liked the taste and feel of a heavy cock on your tongue.
With Neteyam, as everything seems to be, it’s different. You dont just like giving him head, you love it.
You love the way that he jerks when you give his rosy tip that first little lick. You love the salty tang of his precum, so much that you spread it all over. Your lips, your cheeks. You rub his cock along your face, nuzzling it. Your cheeks, chin and nose wet with him. You love the way it stretches your lips as you take him into your mouth- he’s the biggest you’ve ever had and it pushes you to your limit. The hinge of your jaw aching as you force him down your throat.
“You’re such a good girl for me” Neteyam praises you, all choppy. His long fingers tangled in your waist length hair.
That is what you adore the most.
The Omaticayan prince is so vocal. He’s all whimpery moans and deep gritty groans. He lets you know exactly what he likes and doesn't like. And he rains down praise on you like its his job.
You’re his good girl. His sweet berry. His little whore..
You take it so well. So- ah- determined for him. You ram him down your tight convulsing throat ,until you’re sobbing around his dick. Never trying to pull away. Eager to get him off.
It is the most shameful position you’ve ever been put in. You’re addicted to the way that me makes you feel- you could never allow yourself to be this with anyone else.
“I-Im close” He warns as though that's not exactly what you want.
“Good” you hum, before diving back in. Suckling on the head and the sensitive sides of his shaft over and over. Just like you know he likes it.
It doesn't take long at all, you can feel him twitching n your mouth. His balls, so full and swollen, start to pull up, taught and ready to blow.
“Oh fuck, Y/N. Fuck”
He gasps as he knots his fingers at your scalp, as he holds on for dear life, his hips swiveling madly. His belly concaving with his heaving, rapid breaths as as his orgasm rips through him.
It’s a good one. You can tell. He’s biting his lips bloody and grinding his head back into your pillows, eyes tightly closed as he rides the waves of pleasure. The whole time, he fists your hair, holding your face to his crotch.
You take his cum, all of it. Popping the tip on your mouth and catching the thick spurts with your tongue. He tastes so good, it feels so intimate to get to have him like this. You close your eyes and savor it, dont pull off until he's twitching and whining with over sensitivity.
You sit back on your haunches, wiping your messy mouth clean with the back of your hand and assessing the damage.
Neteyam is all shivery, his arm thrown over his face as he comes down from the high. He’s still struggling to catch his breath and you cant help the pride that
“You feeling any better, baby?” the human term of affection rolls off your lips, smug and sultry and he laughs behind his arm.
It takes a few moments, but he finally collects himself “You are way too good at that” he’s told you before, but repeats it as he pulls you close. You’re perched in his lap, his strong arms around your waist as he holds you close.
“I like watching you” you admit between the pecking kisses “I like the way you come”
He smiles into your mouth, you can feel his sharp canines on your lips “That’s my good girl”
You full body shiver at the praise, gritting your forehead against his and breathing through your nose in an attempt not to lose it. You're gushing between your legs, your thighs a sticky mess and your cunt swollen and blood hot.
“Your turn, huh? Come on, I know that pussy has to be needy. You want me to eat it?” Neteyam whispers hotly in your ear and you just groan.
And while his skills with his tongue are legendary, you’re feeling particularly empty, needing to be full of him after weeks of distance “Mmm, no. Want you inside of me”
“Can do” he affirms, his hands going to your hips, nudging you “Lay down, I’ll fuck you, paskalin. I’ll fuck you so good. Wanna’ stretch you out”
“Wait” you press a hand to his chest when you notice the grimace on his face. The one he’s trying to hide as he attempts to lift you “You’re still hurting, Nete”
“I’ll be fine, I’ve got you” He assures, stubbornly “I want you to feel good, too”
He’s not the only one who's stubborn. You wiggle out of his grip, pressing down firmly on his chest.
“We can try something else” you suggest, really not wanting him to hurt himself even worse. Neteyam can get…intense when hes fucking you. It’s all very physical, he pours buckets of sweet down onto you as he works your body.
“You want to get fucked” He reminds you, his hips jerking up pointedly so that you can feel his erection between your legs.
Eywa, yes you do. You want him, you want him to carve his way into your body. To bully your tight walls until they accommodate his wide girth.
You bite your lip and reach for his length, pumping his cock thats still wet with your spit before leaning in close so that you can whisper in his ear “We’re just going to have to compromise”
Neteyam is huffy until you sink down onto him and ride him until neither of you can formulate thoughts.
Until you’re boneless, tangled limbs and buried under your quilts.
The afterglow is your favorite.
Neteyam is always so gentle and tender after sex. He holds you, lets you lie your head on his chest and listen to the steady thrumming beat of his heart as he plays with your hair. The only thing that could make this better is if he reached for your kuru. Is if you got to experience Tsaheylu with him-
It’s not fair,
How could he expect you not to fall in love with him?
The quiet stretches on. The fire is dim and dying and the tent is mostly black, night creeping in and covering you both in darkness.
“I’m sorry” his voice almost startles you, his words confusing and unexpected “I’m sorry I ignored you- the day we came back. I was trying to figure out how to calm my dad down. He was so pissed and Lo’ak’s attitude only makes it worse-”
You don't say anything. You just keep listening to his strong heart.
“I didn't mean to hurt your feelings”
You don't respond for a while. You don't want to shatter the atmosphere that is shimmy fly wing delicate “I was just happy to see you alive. It terrifies me, that you’ll leave on one of these raids and never come back. I dont- I wouldn't know what to do if that happened”
“I'm not going to leave, Y/N” his arms tighten around you and you close your eyes, relishing the way he holds on to you. It makes you feel like maybe you're not the only one desperate for this to never end.
“Do you promise?” You sound young, look so small in his big arms.
“I promise”
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Weeks later, The Sully’s leave the tribe.
They’re running, fleeing for the good of the Omaticaya people- that is what Jake says. He claims it is for the best. You have never doubted his prowess as Olo’eyktan until that moment.
The tribe mourns, falls into great sorrow as the family says their goodbyes.
You can not bear to look. You drown in your tears and hide in the crowd. Will not meet Neteyams gaze no matter how much he tries to get you to.
When he mounts his ikran and takes to the skies you feel something inside of you shatter. He disappears into the vast horizon.
Neteyam leaves.
You were a fool to believe he’d keep his promise.
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
Welp. Um hi guys lol. I was like let me post something short and sweet to come back with before I start hitting you guys with all of my Kinktober prompts next month. Somehow I ended up with a 5k angst filled what could be first chapter of a series. LOL I HATE MYSELF AND THE FACT THAT I CANT WRITE ONE SHOTS.
I literally don't have the time to work on another story, but if this one was a little too much angst, I'd be glad to give us a fix it Part Two.
This will be the last kind of stand alone update until after October. If you havent alread, check out Luna’s( @pandoraslxna )Kinktober prompt list. She is such a gem for cultivating it and helping keep this fandom alive and thriving.
As usual, please leave me some feedback. Good, bad(not mean though lol my psyche’s very fragile rn) I want to hear your thoughts!
Love ya, pretty babies!
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