#its about laughing it off because what else can you do

[wendichester]

𐙚｡⋆ 𖦹 .✧˚ chained reaction,

summary. a curse tied you to dean and the resolution is... messy.

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 576

The chain glints in the dim light of the bunker, its cold weight resting between you and Dean. The cursed artifact—an ancient, rusted shackle adorned with strange runes—had snapped onto both your wrists mid-hunt, leaving you tethered by three feet of unyielding chain.

“I still don’t understand how this happened,” you mutter, glaring at the chain as you tug futilely against it.

Dean’s jaw clenches as he paces, the chain jingling with every step. “I picked up the damn thing to examine it. How the hell was I supposed to know it’d latch onto us like a damn trap?”

“Because it’s cursed,” you snap. “We’re hunters, Dean. Isn’t not touching cursed objects the first rule?”

Dean stops pacing and glares at you, his green eyes dark with frustration. “Oh, I’m sorry, princess. Maybe next time you can take point and let me know when something’s about to screw me over.”

Your temper flares, but before you can bite back, Sam enters the room, his face a mix of amusement and concern.

“So, good news and bad news,” Sam says, holding an open lore book.

“Just give us the bad news,” Dean grumbles.

Sam sighs. “The chain won’t come off until you, uh… resolve your tension.”

You frown. “What does that mean?”

Sam clears his throat awkwardly, looking anywhere but at the two of you. “It means you have to… make-up―or better yet, make out.”

Dean barks out a disbelieving laugh. “You mean we have to kiss to break it? That’s ridiculous.”

Sam shrugs, clearly wishing he were anywhere else. “That’s what the lore says. The artifact reacts to unresolved emotional tension between people.” He closes the book, giving you both an apologetic look. “Good luck.”

Sam retreats quickly, leaving you and Dean alone in the tense silence.

You glare at Dean, your heart pounding. “This is all your fault.”

He steps closer, the chain pulling taut. “My fault? If anyone’s got unresolved tension here, it’s you.”

“Oh, please.” You roll your eyes, though your stomach flips at the heat in his gaze. “You’re the one who—”

Dean cuts you off, his voice low and rough. “Do you really think this is easy for me? Being around you every damn day, pretending I don’t…” He trails off, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Your breath catches. “Don’t what?”

His eyes darken, and his voice drops even lower. “Don’t want you.”

The air between you crackles, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. “Dean…”

“Tell me I’m wrong,” he challenges, stepping closer, his boots brushing against yours.

You can’t.

The tension snaps like a rubber band. Dean’s hand cups the back of your neck, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation that steals your breath. You gasp against his mouth, the taste of him overwhelming as your fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer.

The chain jingles as his free hand grips your hip, anchoring you against him. It’s frantic and messy, years of buried feelings spilling out in every press of his lips and every ragged breath.

When you finally break apart, you’re both panting, foreheads pressed together. “That enough tension for you?” Dean mutters, his voice rough and uneven.

You laugh softly, your fingers tracing the curve of his jaw. “I don’t think the chain’s coming off just yet.”

His lips twitch into a smirk, but there’s something raw in his eyes. “Guess we’ll just have to keep trying.”

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos ⋆ @iluvnewtie ⋆ @dyhsversion ⋆ @funkenniffler

[melosliving]

im not sure if you did this yet BUT HEAR ME OUTTT, what if reader played in a movie with both aaron and kelvin and they are doing a interview together and they both discreetly see reader fidgeting with her hands and dress and try to secretly stop her and then after the interview is over they talk to her about it because its been going on for a minute…

Let me cook girl 😎 thanks for your request baby ❤️❤️

aaron pierre n kelvin harrison jr x actress!reader

you’re a nervous little thing…

warnings : dissociation

Press days are nothing new. You’ve done this a hundred times before—same routine, different city. Bright lights, velvet chairs, a round of staged laughs and knowing glances. Kelvin cracking jokes, Aaron making effortless comebacks, you sitting between them, playing the perfect balance to their chaos. It’s familiar. Easy.

But today, something feels off.

You’re aware of the cameras, the energy of the room, the way your dress sits against your skin—but it all feels distant, like you’re watching from somewhere outside yourself. Your hands won’t stay still, fingers brushing over the fabric of your dress, tapping against your knee, pressing against your rings. The voices around you sound far away, the world slightly out of sync.

Then you feel something. Aaron shifts beside you, the movement so small it’s barely noticeable, but suddenly his knee is pressed lightly against yours. But it his his hand that makes you aware of what you were doing. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t make a show of it, just lets the warmth of his hand seep into you like an anchor.

A beat later, Kelvin exhales through his nose, almost like a sigh, and leans back in his chair, arms resting on the armrests—but one of them, the one closest to you, brushes against your own. The weight is barely there, just the slightest pressure of skin against skin, but it’s intentional.

You breathe in slowly, focusing on that—on them. On the way their presence feels steady, how they’ve closed in around you just enough to remind you that you’re not drifting alone.

“You good?” Kelvin’s voice is low, casual enough that no one else would catch the concern tucked beneath it.

You nod, just once. He doesn’t push. Neither does Aaron. But they don’t move away either.

The interviewer shifts in her seat, oblivious. “So, let’s talk about the chemistry between you three, because it’s insane in this film,” she says, laughing. “Was that something you had to work on, or was it natural?”

Aaron tilts his head slightly, smirking. “I mean, that’s all her. I think she is what makes us look and feel so real.” He nods in your direction. “She makes it easy.”

Kelvin hums in agreement. “Yeah, don’t let her fool you. She’s got people thinking we were actually in love out here.”

You huff a small laugh, trying to shake the fog in your head. “You two were just as bad.”

Aaron turns toward Kelvin with a knowing look. “I did catch you staring a few times.”

Kelvin scoffs. “Excuse You, you were the one looking at my mouth every other scene.”

Aaron raises a brow. “Because you wouldn’t stop licking your lips.” Kelvin gestures toward you. “Well, she kept whispering in my ear, so how was I supposed to focus?”

You blink at him. “That was literally in the script.”

Aaron exhales dramatically. “Didn’t have to say it like that, though.” Kelvin hums. “Yeah, some of those lines felt… personal.”

You shake your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. “You two are ridiculous.”

Aaron grins, shifting slightly so his elbow just barely nudges against yours. “And yet, you keep coming back.”

Kelvin leans in, voice dropping just enough that only you can hear. “You okay now?” You nod again. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Kelvin holds your gaze for a second longer before leaning back. Aaron doesn’t say anything, just taps his fingers lightly against your knee once—brief, barely noticeable—before returning his hand to his lap.

The conversation moves on, but the weight in your chest feels a little lighter. The moment the cameras stop rolling, Kelvin turns to you.

“You been doing that a lot lately,” he says, voice quieter now, more serious. Aaron is watching you too, brow slightly furrowed. “Spacing out like that.”

You hesitate, fingers grazing over the rings on your hand again. “It’s nothing. Just happens sometimes.”

Kelvin tilts his head. “You telling us that, or yourself?” You sigh, pressing your lips together. “Both ? I’m fine.”

Aaron doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he reaches out, smoothing the fabric of your sleeve, his touch light, absentminded. “You don’t have to go through it alone, you know.”

Kelvin exhales, shaking his head. “Yeah. Next time, just tap one of us or somethin’. Let us bring you back.”

You glance between them, their expressions soft, steady, patient. You nod. “Yeah.”

Aaron studies you for a second longer before giving a small, satisfied nod. Then, because he can’t not do it, he smirks. “Or, you know, you could just sit next to me all the time. Let me hold your hand before you start floating off somewhere.”

Kelvin scoffs. “Here he go.”

Aaron shrugs. “I’m just sayin’, I’m right here—”

Kelvin rolls his eyes. “And I’m right here. Not you trying to steal my shine,”

Aaron smirks, leaning in slightly. “Yeah, but she likes me better.” Kelvin huffs out a laugh, then turns to you, expression playful. “Is that true?”

You shake your head, smiling despite yourself. “I’m literally leaving.”

Kelvin grins. “Nah, we’re takin’ you to get food first.” Aaron hums. “Yeah, you definitely need to eat.”

You sigh, but there’s no real protest. “Fine.”

By the time you check your phone, Twitter is already spiraling.

“Kelvin and Aaron subtly closing in around her when she started dissociating… I need a moment.”

“No one’s talking about how Aaron just naturally reached for her hand without even looking? Hello???”

“Kelvin whispering ‘you okay now?’ with that serious look??? SIR, PLEASE.”

“They’re so soft with her but still manage to be the most unserious men alive. It’s unfair.”

@ melosliving 2025

[prettyboykatsuki]

caleb the type to talk you through your first ever orgasm </3 teaches you how to ask for what you want and makes you tell him where it feels good ☹️☹️ what else is an older brother for if not to guide his little sister?

inhales a puff of my cigarette

cw psuedocest, use of gege bc im a pervert, phone sex

you're just. maybe venting over the phone. crabby about something that has nothing to do with caleb at all. im picturing it over the phone for max sexual tension. you're just being even brattier with him than usual and he's like. gently scolding you about it. puts on that firm but kind voice he only does with you.

you blurt it out and caleb is like quiet for a while. and he's like well if you dont understand your body then of course it'd be difficult for you to do. and there's this underlying tension and you don't know what you're chasing. just that gege is safe and you can trust him with anything like you always have

so you just tell him you keep stopping. you get scared when you get too close and he laughs a bit on the other side of the line. you're scared because it feels too good? you're usually more brave than this.

you complain to him and he just laughs a bit more. but then eventually he tells you to focus on something else. and you petulantly reply like what? and caleb pauses. you hear him swallow over the line. just focus on my voice.

caleb wont say anything too crass. too vulgar. your knowledge of these things should be as limited as they can be. so its just... soft. gentle. doesn't use the proper words, skirts around everything. it feels good when you touch it lightly right? be gentle.

you get huffy. it's the tension. how on edge it already is. how you're trying not to notice the thick lust in calebs voice. how it makes you feel to not hear him or see him - but wonder anyone if he's aroused at all. if he's maybe touching himself to you, too. over the front of his jeans - just barely running his palm over it. as much as you want to think about, it's hard to picture it.

you can't picture him getting himself off, but for some reason it's easy to picture him on top of you. picture him inside of you—

im close you've never whined so loud gege, im—

shhhh. it's okay. just cum. ill take care of you.

you cum hard. its satisfying. stokes the flames of desire in the pit of your stomach and makes it easier to breathe. it makes sense, you think.

he already has so many of your firsts.

[peachhcs]

Saw a tik tok of this girl introducing her boyfriend as her “side piece” and his reaction was so funny the way his head clocked to the side had me crying.

What do you think Wills reaction would be to Samy doing that?

i’ve actually haven’t seen this trend yet so i’m kind of winging how it would go, but i can imagine how funny it would be and how caught off guard will would be if samy did this to him.

lowkey small jealousy trope as well (someone give me more requests about jealousy bc i love writing jealousy trope 😼)

au masterlist

now samy knew will wouldn’t voluntarily do a tiktok with her after all of the pranks she’s pulled on him, so she had to be discrete about this one. she set up her phone camera and made up a story about how samy needed to record herself introducing the people in her life as part of this class assignment.

it was half believable and will was somewhat gullible, so he agreed to it. samy pulled the blonde into the frame where he awkwardly smiled as she leaned forward to start recording.

“hi, so for my first introduction, i will be introducing will smith. will is a hockey player for the san jose sharks and previously the boston college eagles. will and i have known each other for some years and now i’d say our relationship is..complicated. i guess one could say he’s my side piece—“

as soon as samy said that she watched the way the boy’s head snapped in her direction. he moved his neck so fast the brunette swore he gave himself whiplash and she really struggled to keep from laughing.

“woah wait what the fuck?” will didn’t even stop his tone.

“what?” samy played dumb and looked at him confused.

“i’m your side piece? what the fuck?” he looked so mad and hurt.

“well like..i dunno. maybe i shouldn’t have said that..” samy continued going with it.

“maybe? i..i thought— am i not your boyfriend? is there someone else?” watching the way will’s expression turned to full hurt and betrayal broke the younger hughes’ heart so much that she couldn’t keep going.

“i’m joking, i’m joking. this is a prank. i’m sorry, baby. you are my boyfriend. i promise there isn’t anyone else,” samy broke and it tooo the hockey player another second to catch on. when he did he rolled his eyes and flipped off the camera.

“you’re so mean to me,” he pouted and started to walk away. samy just pulled him back though, clinging to his arm.

“i’m so sorry, will. i saw someone do the trend and wanted to do it on you, but that was mean. i love you,” the soccer player rushed.

will wrapped his arm around her waist to pull her flush against his chest, fighting the smile creeping its way to his lips because he could never stay mad at her.

“tell me you’re mine,” he said.

“i’m yours, will. i’m all yours, i promise. i love you,” samy said.

“i love you too,” he smiled and leaned down to press a quick kiss to her lips which samy got all on video because she hadn’t stopped recording yet.

[hyunjuenthusiast]

ITS ME AGAIN😎

need a jealous!hyun-ju x fem!reader who gets a bit too close with gi-hun, ANDD reader ends up getting edged and fingered roughly by jealous!hyun-ju as reader tried to quiet down in the bathroom??

TYSM I LVOE YOUR FICS🫶

HEYYYY👋🏻 Are you becoming a regular?!😂 Let me see what I can do!

BEAUTIFUL ENVY

Summary: During the games, you become close with Hyun-ju, not realizing the envy that builds inside of her when you start also getting close to Gi-Hun.

Pairing: Jealous!Hyun-ju x Femreader!

Warnings: SMUT and jealousy.

Not an adult? Don't read! 🔞

Hyun-ju grits her teeth as she hears you laugh along with Gi-Hun's group. Just because they decided to work together didn't mean that you could just leave her.

That thought made Hyun-ju tense. You weren't together. She had no right to be feeling this way. But the sight of you smiling at someone else after you had been so kind to her, made her want to strangle Gi-Hun.

Looking back over at you, her blood boils. Gi-Hun was offering you his gimbap. He'll no.

She was walking towards you before she could even think. You looked up at her as she stood in front of you and Gi-Hun, the rest of the group talking about random things, not really paying attention to Hyun-ju.

"Hyun-" You go to question, only to be silenced when she holds out her gimbap as well. The look she was giving Gi-Hun made you tense where you sat.

With both of them offering you their food, you didn't know what to do. "Um, thank you both, but I'm not that hungry!" You say, letting out a nervous chuckle that only Gi-Hun returns.

You give Hyun-ju a soft smile, trying to ease whatever tension this was. You can see her relax a little.

She sits on the other side of you. Young-il asked Gi-Hun about what he thought the next game would be, and you listened closely, leaning in closer.

You heard her scoff before you felt her hand on your forearm. She pulled you a bit closer to her, leaning down close to your ear. "He doesn't know anything about the next game. He was wrong about the second game. We shouldn't trust him." She whispers.

You frown. You did trust Gi-Hun. He helped everyone in red light, green light. He's voted to go home, which is more than Hyun-ju has done. She voted to stay once after all.

"He's not untrustworthy-" you try to say until you notice her soft glare, making you shrink a bit into yourself. "You can't be sure of someone's intentions, sweet girl, especially in here." She explains softly. You knew she was right. But that means you also couldn't trust her.

She seems to know what you were thinking, and you see her eyes soften. "You know I'd never betray you, don't you? Not after what happened to Young-Mi." She whispers, making you look down in guilt.

"I know." You whisper back softly, your breath hitching as she reaches to hold your hand. "I won't let anyone hurt you. Not any of the players, not any of the guards, not even yourself." She says. Your eyebrows furrow for a moment, not really knowing what she means by not letting you hurt yourself, but she doesn't clarify.

You made a mistake. That's all. You wouldn't leave her. Not for him. He's old enough to be your father. But the way you clung to him during lights out...

She clenches her fists. As soon as the guards shut it down and announced it was time for bed, she grabbed your wrist, making you get out of your bed. Not enough to hurt, but enough were you knew she was serious. You question her with your gaze, but she looks straight ahead, her pace much faster than yours.

She knocks on the door, and a triangle guard opens the little window to see what she wants. "She got her period. Would you please let us through so I can help her clean her pants?" She asks making your eyes widen. You weren't on your period.

When the window shuts, she quickly takes off her jacket, tying it around your waist. Knocking again, this time, the guard lets you through.

She was smart. The guard checked your backside when you walked past him.

As soon as the woman's restroom door shut, Hyun-ju rushed and pushed you against a wall, her touch firm, making you gasp.

"W-What are you doing?" You ask, the look in her eyes changing from firm...to hunger.

"You let him hold you." She whispers close to your ear. "W-what? Wh-" She inturupts, "Gi-Hun. Player 456. You let that asshole touch you." She sneers. You have to crane your neck to look up at her. "I-I don't underst-" you try to say.

"You will." Hyun-ju says, her eyes dark. One of her hands travels down your body, stopping just under the line of your bra. "What color is it, baby?" She asks in a whisper.

You give her a confused look. "What color is your bra?" She says, one of her fingers tracing where your nipple is.

Your eyes widen, but you feel the need to answer her. "P-Purple" you whisper, hearing her inhale sharply.

"Has he seen it? Gi-Hun?" She asks, starting to lift your shirt up gently. "N-No of course not, w-why would-" She shuts you up with a kiss. Her lips are softer than what you would have thought, and moist.

"I see the way he looks at you, baby." She says as she breaks the kiss. "And you give him those sweet puppy eyes, don't you?" She asks, lifting your shirt over your head, her eyes immediately taking in the sight of your breasts.

"I don't." You whisper. "You do, baby. Don't lie. But that's okay, I'll fix it." She says, leaning down and kissing the edge of your cleavage. "Mmm, so soft." She mumbles against the supple flesh of your right breast.

"What do you mean? Fix what?" You ask, a little breathless already. You can feel her smirk. "I'll make sure you only look at me." She says, keeping her eyes on yours as she rips your bra.

You gasp, making her chuckle darkly. She throws the now useless peice of cloth on the bathroom floor, returning her hands to your chest, squeezing.

Hyun-ju leans back down, waisting no time with taking your nipple into her mouth. The cold bathroom, in contrast to her hot mouth, makes you shiver.

You gasp as she switches to the other breast, giving it the same treatment. "H-Hyun-ju we can't" you whimper, making her chuckle. She's already kissing her way down your stomach, getting on her knees in front of you.

Faster than you can think, she has your pants pulled down, looking at your matching purple underwear. "You're so fucking beautiful, baby." She whispers, starting to kiss up your thigh.

She gently kisses your clit through your panties, making you gasp. "I can see how wet you are, Y/n. You've soaked your panties." She whispers, looking up at you hungrily. You don't protest as she slides them down next.

"Oh baby..." She coos, looking at your pussy. "Your little clit is swollen...do you want me to make it all better? Hmm?" She asks, making you whine.

You nod.

That clearly didn't satisfy her because the next second, you feel a small slap to your pussy. "Use your words like a good girl." She says firmly. Holy fuck.

"Y-Yes...please make it better!" You whimper. She gives you a smile before you feel her tongue on your clit.

She teases you just a little before reaching up and putting two of her fingers inside you. "Fuck baby, you're so tight. You can take another one, can't you?" She says, her tone mocking. When you whine, shaking your head, she adds another anyway, giving you a nice stretch.

Having both her fingers and her tongue feels like heaven. Pure heaven. But that thought quickly leaves your mind when you feel her change the pace.

You could hear the wet sound of your pussy as her fingers set an unforgivable pace. "H-Hyun-ju!" You squel. "T-To much p-please slow down!" You moan.

You look down, watching as she pulls away from your clit, smirking.

"To bad." She says, fingerings you a little harder. "Oh fuck!" You scream, the back of your head against the wall.

"Do you think Gi-Hun could make you feel this good? Hmm?" She asks, her eyes sharp. You quickly shake your head, which makes her stop.

"What did I say about using your words?" She sneers, taking her fingers away. "No no please don't stop!" You beg, your hips lifting trying to get her back.

"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" She asks, her lips kissing the skin just above your clit.

You go to nod, but remember her words. "Yes!" You say, making her tikt her head. "Tsk tsk tsk, say it properly, baby. Tell me you'll be a good girl for me." She commands.

"I'll be a good girl for you!" You say quickly, making her chuckle once more. "Only for me?" She asks, and you nod quickly. "Yes yes only for you Hyun-ju!"

She puts her fingers back inside you, setting another brutal pace. "Are you going to cum for me?" She asks.

"Yes yes! I'm so close!" You whimper. Not expecting her to pull away again, but she does.

"I don't think so. Not until I know you're sorry. You hurt my feelings with the way you looked at Gi-Hun. How do I know you won't let him touch you again? Hmm?" She says, licking her fingers clean of you.

You almost cry. "I am sorry, Hyun-ju. I'm so sorry, I only want you!"

She pretends to think, her thumb reaches up, keeping you on edge by rubbing tight circles on your already overstimulated clit.

"If I see you even look in his direction, I'll have you over my knee, no matter if we're in the bathroom or not." She says, making you nod.

This time, when you feel her fingers and that familiar pressure building in your tummy, she doesn't pull away. "Cum for me, pretty girl." She says, her voice sending vibrations through your core.

She stimulates you through your climax, making sure not a second of pleasure is wasted. "Such a good girl for me." She whispers, her head getting awfully close to your core.

"W-what are y-" you can't finish your sentence as she licks into you. "Mmm let me clean you up, baby." She says.

After she helps you put your shirt and pants back on, she picks up the discarded bra, putting it in her pocket. "Come on, sweet girl, you need to rest for tomorrow." She says, her tone now soft.

She holds your hand on the walk back to your bunk. She even kisses your forehead before she walks back to her own.

You don't notice that she makes a stop first.

Hyun-ju walks up to player 456's bed, leaving a torn purple fabric next to his shoes.

Stay away from her girl Gi-Hun✋🏻😏

[mejaemin]

how to kick someone out of your house - park jisung

day one of my valentine’s day countdown! ♡

wc: 0.7k

summary: you and jisung would never host hangouts for the sole reason of hating the idea of having to kick them out. what better way to do so than avoiding it altogether?

warning: socially anxious ji and reader, this is literally so me, fluff, featuring the rest of dream! ji and reader get very much babied in this but its cute

an: this was heavily inspired by my own hatred for inviting people over, because jisung and reader’s dilemma is so real !!! how are you supposed to tell people when they need to leave ?!?! i feel like there isn’t a single way that isn’t like kinda mean

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

the group is small, only being filled with jisung’s main friends but it feels so much bigger. they can get quite loud, altogether creating a sound loud enough to compensate for a small crowd. you’re tucked into his arm, watching a tv show that no one else is paying attention to while the boys engage in whatever wild conversation they’re having. some are making odd or inappropriate jokes, but you’re too preoccupied to laugh at any of it.

truthfully, you’d been dreading this get-together as soon as it was brought up. you already dealt with people enough today as work, but it was special for jisung and despite him not giving you much warning to mentally prepare, you still went to make him happy. it was quite overstimulating, and they’ve been over for quite a while, and you sleepily rub your eyes with a pout while you rest your head on jisung’s shoulder.

you can tell he’s starting to get there too, not being as responsive to the conversation. he leans back a little more against the couch, slouching and bringing you with him. after a few more detached responses, he pulls his phone from his pocket and begins texting you, looking at you expectantly.

ji 🐹: do you also really want everyone to go home or is it just me?

you: no, me too.. i’m so tired i can barely keep my eyes open ;(

ji 🐹: this is why i hate having them over.. how am i supposed to say, “i’m tired, can you get out now?” that’s so scary (ㅠ﹏ㅠ)

you: babyyy i cant do it either.. i’m no better than you!

ji 🐹: maybe we just fall asleep here? do you think they’ll get the message?

you: let’s do it!! anything to avoid having to say it out loud..

after shutting both your phones, you can’t help but giggle at your conversation. you’re both so similar, anxious and dreading the idea of confrontation. jisung’s arm wraps around your shoulder a little tighter, allowing you to rest your head on his. with your knees to your chest, you bring the blanket a little closer, covering you and him (mostly you) with it. you pull the oversized hood of jisung’s hoodie over your head, and finally let your eyes shut. eventually he falls silent and the weight of his head lands on yours, and you eventually fall asleep. one of the many skills you’ve developed since dating jisung was the ability to tune out his friends voices, and it’s something you’re very grateful for in this moment.

after a good while, your eyes finally open, and your heart nearly leaps out of its chest. everyone’s gone now, and not only is it dead silent but the lights were shut off. when you pull out your phone, immediately going to check the whereabouts of your guests, you finally relax into the back of the couch. the boys left messages in your shared group chat, taking pictures of you two sleeping while cooing about ‘how cute the babies are when they’re sleepy’ and how they were ‘soso responsible and helped put you both to bed’. looking down, you see the fluffy comforter from jisung’s bed over your laps. next to you, the boy himself is still asleep, neck in an incredibly uncomfortable position as he drools into his hand.

snapping a picture, you send it to them with a thank you message before shutting your phone off and kissing jisung awake. his brows furrow, putting his hands out in front of him as he sits up.

“hey, don’t.. don’t do that when they’re.. oh.” always so shy in front of his friends, he leans away from your lips before his eyes fully open and he notices their departure.

you smile, albeit tiredly, using your sleeve to wipe the corner of his mouth before leaning in to give him a hug. he thanks everything he loves that the lights are off, hiding his flushed cheeks while you do so.

sitting up, you take a minute to stretch. “they left, finally.”

he’s already up, taking the blankets in one arm and yours in the other to take you back to his bedroom. “oh, i’m so happy our plan worked. i was really dreading having to say something…”

he lays down first, opening an arm for you to rest your head on before pulling both blankets over your bodies. nuzzling your head against his shoulder you get comfortable again, ready to fall back asleep. you don’t even bother saying anything, simply nodding in response. you’re too sleepy to continue making conversation, and you know he is too, both of you drained from having to talk to people for so long.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

[haveihitanerve]

BUS! I know I came back to land for a reason…

Also- for-word: um. Be prepared? Its not innocent. At all. Not about a bus. Um. yeah. Don't watch around people. Yeah. thats all the advice i can offer. Now go off into the world Penelope Jemima B. D. And show the world who you are 😭

(the amount of distress i had while watching this is insane) anyway:

Idk what AJ and Tom were saying at the very beginning but cuteness 

“You're gonna fucking love it.” Tom is an iconic king but also AJ and Sam laughing at his dumb little jokey intro will always be the cutest thing to me

“Hopefully in that order…” yes please lol

“BUS!” AJ really enjoyed that- gorgeous cackle, 10/10. Sam doesn't know what to do with that and Tom has just reverted to repeating it bc… wow

“First murder.” “last murder” goodness gracious what lmaooo

Toms little pat on AJ’s back as they started the scene 😭

AJ awkwardly scooting away as Sam comes closer but also moving closer because he needs to at all times be touching them 😭

“You don't see young people reading anymore.” Ok idk if its intentional or not but every time we get a scene like this in any way sam always starts insulting young people for being on their “tablets and iphones” and etc etc, and i don't know if its an actual grievance that he has at this point lmao(even tho we as fans connect to them thru this but wtv lol) or if hes mocking old people for their grievances and either one works for me really lol i just wanna knowww

Sam: Good book? AJ: *every book ever created ever in the history of ever leaves his mind* yeah yeah, uh u-yeah uh its the-the the- the sexbook. Yeah thats such a good book AJ, i agree

“Quite a coincidence.” AJ: *blinks, not sure what to do with that information just casually dropped with nothing else* wha-what Sam: *smirks* Tom: *offstage* :D 

Sam: I wrote the sexbook Tom: *oh did you??* *legs crossed, hand over mouth, classic tom pose that slays every. single. time.*

“Arthur big dick” Tom shaking with silent laughter, AJ almost caving with a laugh, Sam laughing as he says it. Idk shared laughter means a lot to me

“Name five of them.” No thats foul- because AJ couldn't even think of one and now you’re making him come up with fivvveee titles sam??? Thats loowwww XD

“Big Dick 1, 2, 3 ,4 and 5.” The groan of the crowd lmaooo- they really wanted to hear AJ come up with creative titles lol

Tom’s disappointed nose pinch in the corner XD

“Im just gonna fangirl here real quick-” yes AJ! Yes! Finally we are represented!!

Sam: You're a girl? *slowly removes his hand from Aj’s shoulders* AJ: *did not think that far ahead, nor that it’d be commented on* ye-yes? Sam: ah.*contemplates* this is much creepier than I thought it was LMAOOOOO (Toms little grin shaky laugh in the corner 🫠)

“I just feel like your writing- it just really gets to the heart of- of the sexual experience.” truly, inspirational work Sam

“Didn't like it.” Silence as AJ just stares at him. :| yes. Do continue. 👀

Tom and AJ’s laugh as Sam just doesn't answer XD

“He-hello?” AJ sounded genuinely concerned for Sam lol

“Where did you go?” “the sea.” regrets it before the words are even out- XD

The way they both broke, shook for a few seconds, and then straightened in sync is insane

Its like a fricking switch was flipped holy shit- laughing- then suddenly sitting upright and focused again lol wow

Toms little giggling in the corner omfg-

“Are you getting off? Whe-where are you getting off?” He heard the joke and immediately corrected lmaooo

“Well, turn to page seven!” “Ahhh!” “Ahhh!!” the whole finger pointing and like “hahahaha i knew you'd say it you shit” is amazing and i adore it

“How old are you?” Has to clarify for the scene, i appreciate it sam lol

“32. How-how-” “okay.” “okay.” yeah maybe its better not to clarify sam’s age- seeing as hes been at sea for 60 years yet was clearly an adult when he wrote the book and- lets not get into it

“Im actually getting off at the next stop-” “mhumhmh” AJ and Tom’s little smiles at his dumbass joke ahhhh i love

Also- side note- his book gets off already at page seven??? Thats pretty early right? Or am i tweaking? Actually its a book about sex called Sexbook so nevermind, ignore me

“Im actually a writer myself.” “oh really? What have you written?” “big vagina 1, 2, 3.” Sam completely folds at that, and Tom’s little smile as AJ smirks, proud of himself ahhh such dorks :) 

“But i haven't- *breaks* i haven't released any yet because *voice shakes with laughter* im too afraid. *sam casually dying in the background trying not to laugh* Im too afraid of showing my work *breaks again* cause i will be judged.” The hand to the heart is truly my favorite thing XD

“Jemima.” Sam: *shit what was my name again* AJ: Arthur B. D. Sam: *thats right thank you* Arthur B. D. WOW!!! AJ remembered a name!!! Brilliant. 

Brilliant stagecraft of leaving the bus AJ, adore

Tom gets to be in a scene now! Yay!

“Boys…” Sam thought he could sit down and relax- nope! AJ is trying, but, yep he has to stand again too lol

Tom unbuttoning his shirt just to reveal a shirt underneath is a power move holy shit-

“As the united kingdom communist part we just cant take that.” Tom squints at him: mmmhmmm. *shakes head because he does not like that* Sam: *does it back equally as passive aggressive* mmmmmhhhmmm

“Us fine upstanding, british *lacking a very substantial british accent* communists that we are.” 

I see Tom is trying to revive Xavier???? Or smth…

“Oh what did you just stutter to me?” His strut-

AJ’s tongue in cheek smile as he approaches-

That chin tilt???????? Oh ma my my-

“How did you get my name so wrong?” ahh how quickly the mighty fall😔

“Magnus o. Puss.” AJ’s almost break at the name lmaooo

“Cause i have a full magnus full of o puss.” Sam’s breaking of character so completely that he just covers his face in shame lmaooo XD

“You just wiped your nose.” “Sorry.” “you're wearing a jumper.” wow tom- just insult everything about him i guess XD AJ: 😔sorry…

Aj trying to escape the scene. Tom: don't just sit down and cry! No mercy…XD

“Flatmate.” “oh!” AJ’s relief lmaooo

Tom: I’m the other flatmate. :/ keep trying buddy, one day you'll join the scene again lmaooo

“Get on the couch.” “how was your day?” “how was your day?” “how was your daaaay?” the way theyre actually sitting really close together with Tom almost leaning against Sam’s shoulder 🫠

“You know, my writing,” “We’re big fans.” Tom casually interrupts to clarify and support- and like- i know its for the scene and they’re building a really quick relationship- but AJ actually is a writer/director and they do actually watch his stuff-😭- anyway-

Sam and Tom’s continuous looks at each other “Oooooooh!”

“Its from your time.” THERE WE GO!!! SOME OLD JOKES!!!! “Oh yeah, just us two 65 year old women with our 32 year old flatmate!” lmaoooo they're all women and not one of them originally meant to be XD

“Well we were five.” “At first it didn't do much for us.” I would hope not Tom, but thanks for clarifying…

“As we matured-” “as we matured-” “Like our bible-” “like our bible-” im loving this casual repetition they have going on, wonderful

“It was spiritual but also exciting.” “like cocaine.” “like cocaine.” Sam would know… and still with the repetitions XD

“That would be convenient to the plot.” I love how Sam feels the need to say this aloud and not just subtly hint at it- because knowing the two idiots he’s on stage with- sorry, chaos demons- they would totally let him try to build it up like that, and then never actually get the plot going in that direction lmaooo

“Oh my gosh.” Sam and Tom both cracking at his gasp- now drum roll, will Aj stick to the plot or is he throwing in a curveball???

“Is it convenient to the plot?” Tom looks like he doesn't want it to be- just to annoy Sam lmaooo

“And i looked out the window temporarily-” *almost breaks* Aj- i love you, but there are more casual ways to let this further the plot, you know that right XD

“Well this sounds perfectly plausible.” After he and Tom just destroyed any way it could be plausible

“You've cracked my code did you?” we get a snippet of Aj’s delightful laughter, beautiful

“Pass the torch up. There you go.” AJ: *finger point of “clever”* lol

“You cant go off again back to sea.” “..okay.” AJ’s break at the easy agreement lol-

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW i did not expect a cute hug scene!!!!!! Yay!!!! 🫠💗

Ok- i will be honest- i really though Aj was going in for a kiss at first- and i kind of believe Sam thought so too with the whole “i always wanted a daughter” to solidify its purely sweet and not romantic just in case aj gets any more ideas lol

Sam’s “oh!” and hunch drop into Big Dick because he thought he was Tom’s assistant??? And not big dick, but here he is again lmaooo

Tom’s little vibrating act made AJ fold and i think its wonderful XD

Tom climbing on a chair because he needs to be taller ofc, classic

“You could look, im not wearing underwear.” Sam, not only looking, but doing the appreciate, yeah head nod is crazy

“Im everything you fear.” AJ interrupting his build up to monologue to snort is priceless

“You were just a lowly intern-” Hang on a fucking minute sam- Tom is how old???? That was 60 years ago- i don't care how young and lowly he was- he was at least a teenager which makes him a seventy something yead old man- y'know what its better not to ask

“Even you couldn't… open it.” Tom freezing in place in an effort not to laugh, Sam’s head hanging in disappointment, and AJ just having the time of his life 

THEM GENUINELY JUST LETTING/MAKING AJ WRITE THE ENDING OF HIS SEX BOOK ON STAGE IS THE BEST AND CRAZIEST THING EVER WHAAAAAAAT

Tom’s little head drop forward like “what are you saying aj? Oh you're doing this? Okaaay…” 

“Penelope.” sam. Sam. sammy. Samuel. Its Jemima. 

“Im trapped in a vagina.” Tom, AJ, and Sam all cracking at the perfectly set up joke, classic

“How is he doing this?” Sam not helping at all and making AJ come up with it XD

“He says it just- hes a ghost.” AJ has given up lmaooo

“Astral penetration.” AJ BREAKING FULLY, FOLD ON STAGE, MID STAGE!!!!

“Magnum o, full stop, puss.” Sam checking his watch to see how much he has to speed this up lmaoooo

“Hell die inside of that vagina.” *both break* XD

“Im in my office on another floor…” Tom really wanted to be in the scene and they keep forcing him out XD

“Hes astral penetrated me-” Sam fully folds on stage too- he knew, he just knew AJ would make it weird- specifically made it so that they were established as daughter-dad relationship- and yet AJ still found a way LMAOOOO

“Don't make me call security.” “Call security! I don't care!” “Security.” “JA. I am secure.” Tom baby im just not sure thats what he meant XD

“Im just going to put this out there: we have several copies.” lmaooo Aj come on!

“But then your friend would die inside wouldn't he?” AJ: *HAHAH FUCK YOU!!!* “ahh fuck.” Sam is impressed lol

WHERE DID HE GET THE SWORD?????

[drenched exit] sam: awww come on! *disappointed as though he didn't help set it up*

[door closes with a moist SMACK] Tom: *smiles because hes proud of himself*

“You've been meditating inside a big member!” why do they keep making it worse better

[juicy splash] Sam: *makes sound of disgust and disappointment*

“Its perfectly natural!” You tell ‘em king!

Physic powers?????

“You-you've pinned it to the wall.” … aj… theres no emoji or anything to convey my expression rn, but i assume its the same as yours so… yeah…

“You must challenge him.” AJ: *breaks fully because he did not expect sam to just appear behind him while hes being tortured?? by a man rubbing his own nipples*

“Feel the tension!” i feel the tension alright😭

Aj having to laugh mid battle (real) because  w h a ha t???

What is going on😭😭😭

OH MY GOD WHAT???? SAM ESCAPED THE VAGINA????

pleasedontkisspleasedontkisspleasedontkisspleasedontkisspleasekisspleasekiss

“That vagina was so acidic.” Sam please don't say things like that while you're dying in AJ’s arms- XD

“Im so happy i met you on the bus that day.” You mean literally that morning?? Or did i miss a time jump?

“The big vagina 4. *moans*” Death. 

aj helping tom up from the floor😭🫠

AND, SCENE!!! wow. That was… wow. Ok. Um. So. If you couldn't tell, i got very distressed towards the end. Like very. It was very good though, kinda what i expected. I’m sad Luke isn't there but glad he wasn't because it would have been so much worse 😭 but uh. Yeah. that was fun! So… hope you enjoyed???

@snek-of-eden you were so right, the chaos is unmatched and wow. Thank you!!

@dawn-speckled

[jetii]

Warm

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader

Words: 10,262

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends with benefits to lovers, fluff, slight hurt/comfort, first date cuteness, accidental love confessions, smut, unprotected sex, p in v sex, oral (m recieving), fingering, dirty talk, creampie, inappropriate use of scomp, very loving soft sex actually

Summary: For the first time since the Republic fell, you and Echo find yourself on Pabu with nothing to do but relax, and you're determined to make the most of it. You just have to convince Echo.

A/N: I said this was pwp but I lied, the plot got me girl. This is some of the sweetest smut I have ever written. Echo deserves nothing less.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

"What are you doing?"

You barely pause to look up as you shove another bottle of sunscreen in your bag, casting Echo a wry smile. 

"We're going to the beach, so I'm making sure we're stocked up on sunscreen." You give the bottle in your hand a little shake, as if to illustrate your point. Echo's eyes flick down to it, then back to you, and he crosses his arms over his chest, shifting his weight and making the muscles there ripple distractingly. But you're not going to let him derail you.

"And... why are we going to the beach?" he asks, his tone bemused. You frown at him.

"We're supposed to be taking a break, right?" you ask. "And it's a beautiful day. I figured that we could enjoy it."

The two of you had arrived on Pabu last night, after what had seemed like the longest journey of your life. The moment you'd finally docked, you'd immediately felt the tension in your body start to bleed away, and it only took a few more minutes for Echo to follow suit, his shoulders relaxing and his expression going soft as the two of you walked down the streets toward where the rest of the Batch had made their home.

Now, the two of you are in the kitchen, with its cramped counters and low ceiling and ancient appliances, and for the first time in weeks, neither of you have anything to do. It's a strange feeling. You've been here for less than a day, but already you can feel the weight of all the work and stress and anxiety slowly lifting off your shoulders, leaving you feeling lighter than you have in weeks.

Echo, however, does not look particularly pleased at the prospect of having some time to himself. You know he'd rather be working, or training, or just about anything else, really. It's the exact opposite of what you're hoping for.

"Come on," you coax him, "don't you want to have a little fun? You deserve it."

He shifts uncomfortably, and you see him glance out the window toward the beach.

"I don't... think that's a good idea," he says, his voice hesitant. "It's— we're here because—"

"I know why we're here," you cut in. You set down the sunscreen, crossing your arms and leveling him with a look. "And I'm not asking you to swim, or even go near the water. Just sit in the sand, maybe enjoy the sun for a few minutes. I'm sure there's a place to get a decent cup of caf nearby, or maybe one of those little pastry things you like."

He's still looking skeptical, and you know you need to change tactics, so you step closer to him and slide your arms around his neck, tilting your head back and smiling at him coyly. His gaze drops down to your mouth, then flickers back up, and the corner of his lips tugs upward.

"I mean, if you're too scared to come outside with me..."

Echo scoffs, the sound almost offended. He pulls you close, his arms wrapping around your waist, and his voice is a low rumble in your ear.

"You really think that'll work on me?"

"No, not at all," you say with a smirk. You press a kiss to the spot just below his jaw, and he shivers, his fingers flexing against your back. "But I did just get a new swimsuit, and I thought maybe you'd want to see me in it."

The reaction is immediate. You feel Echo's whole body go rigid, his grip tightening around you, and you bite back a smile, trying not to laugh. You look up to see his ears are tinged red, and his eyes are fixed firmly on a point over your shoulder.

"Really?" he says, his voice strained, and you nod.

"Mhm."

You can see him considering it, and when you tilt your head a little more, leaning closer and making sure his attention stays fixed on you, you spot the exact moment his resistance breaks.

"I think you'll like it,” you continue. You're grinning now, knowing that you've already won. "But I guess if you're not interested, I can go to the beach by myself. I'm sure plenty of people will appreciate it."

You step away from him, already starting toward the bedroom the two of you had shared the night before. Before you can get more than a couple steps, though, Echo's arm shoots out, wrapping around your waist and hauling you back against him. You turn to find him smiling down at you, his eyes dancing with amusement, and he leans in, brushing his nose against yours.

"That's not going to happen," he murmurs. He leans in and kisses you, and for a moment, all the stress and tension seems to melt out of his body. He pulls away, pressing his forehead to yours and letting out a little sigh. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to get a little fresh air. But if I get sand in my joints, I'm not going to be happy."

You smile triumphantly and lean forward to peck him on the cheek.

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," you murmur, and his ears turn bright red. You grin and duck out of his grasp before he can reply, and Echo lets out a little huff as you head for the stairs, tossing a "get your sunscreen, you're going to burn!" over your shoulder.

When you return a few minutes later, your new swimsuit snugly in place under your clothes, Echo is standing in the doorway, and you stop, staring at him. He's wearing a pair of board shorts, a navy-blue color with a white stripe along each side. They fall a couple inches above his knees, and his broad chest is bare, his skin glowing in the sunlight. You've seen him shirtless plenty of times, but there's something about him wearing these casual clothes, something about the way he looks, relaxed and at ease and not quite as tense, that makes your heart do a funny little flip in your chest.

"Is this okay?" he asks, and you realize you've been staring at him. He has a button down shirt in his hand in an obnoxious floral pattern, one you know he got from one of the boys as a joke. You hadn't expected him to actually wear it, but it makes you smile to think that he's actually embracing the beach-vacation vibe.

"You look good," you say, and your voice comes out a little bit breathy. You clear your throat and try again. "I mean, it's fine. You look fine. Great. I'm—we should go."

You can't read the expression on his face, but his lips are twitching as he tugs the shirt on over his shoulders, and you grab the bag of supplies before turning toward the door.

"Come on," you say, jerking your head for him to follow. "Let's get out of here."

He follows you out, and you can feel his eyes on you the entire time, his gaze lingering on the skin that's visible between the bottom of your cropped shirt and the top of your shorts. When you catch his eye, he grins, not even trying to hide the fact that he's ogling you.

"Shut up," you mutter, but he only grins wider.

The two of you have never done anything like this before. There'd been a couple nights, during the brief respites the two of you had gotten on different missions, where you'd both gone out and had a little fun, but that had always ended the same way, with you heading back to one of your rooms or to a secluded corner and spending the rest of the night wrapped up in each other.

But this, the two of you wandering down the streets together, stopping at a café to get something to eat, laughing and joking together like a real couple... it's nice. Really nice.

You can feel Echo relaxing the longer the two of you walk, and he doesn't hesitate before ordering a caff for the two of you, getting yours the way you like it without having to ask. He holds the door open for you and pays for both of your meals, and by the time the two of you are walking down the beach toward the spot you'd had in mind, his arm slung over your shoulders, you're practically beaming.

The spot is far enough away from the main strip of shops and restaurants to avoid most of the foot traffic, but not so far away that the two of you will have to walk for miles to get back. It's quiet, with most people including the rest of the Batch at work or school or who knows where, and the sound of the waves is soothing.

Still, Echo stays close, his arm hovering near you as if he expects you to suddenly collapse, and he tenses a little whenever someone passes. When the two of you finally reach your spot, he pulls away, turning his back to you while you lay out the blanket.

"Checking for traps?" you ask dryly, and he shrugs, not looking at you.

"Or enemies," he says, and you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, right."

"Just because we haven't seen any doesn't mean they're not out there," he argues, and you can tell he's about to launch into a full-blown speech, so you reach out and wrap your hand around his wrist, tugging him down to the blanket.

"We're fine," you say. "Really. It's the middle of the day, and I don't think any undercover Imperials are going to try and jump us in the middle of a public beach."

"You never know," he says, and the look on his face tells you he's completely serious. "It wouldn't be the first time."

You roll your eyes and settle down on the blanket, propping yourself up on your elbows.

"Well, I'm sure I'll be safe with a big, strong ARC trooper protecting me," you tease, and his expression turns sour. You wink, and his scowl deepens.

"Ha ha," he says, not looking amused.

"I'm kidding," you say, nudging him with your shoulder. You tilt your head, and Echo's eyes are drawn to the long line of your neck. "Let's just... try and forget about that, okay? Let's pretend, for just a little while, that we're normal. We're just a normal couple, and we're having a normal date. Okay?"

He's still frowning, his brow furrowed, but after a moment, he sighs, his shoulders slumping a little.

"Okay," he mutters. "I can do that."

You smile, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek, and Echo turns, his mouth finding yours. His hand comes up, his thumb brushing across your cheek, and he pulls you closer, kissing you softly.

You let yourself sink into it, the sound of the ocean and the feeling of the sun on your skin making everything feel a little bit like a dream.

When you break apart, he's smiling, and some of the tension has finally melted from his body.

"So," you say, grinning, "what do you think? About this normal-couple-on-a-date thing?"

"I think... I could get used to it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." He smiles at you, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners, and the sight of him, relaxed and smiling and looking happier than you've seen him in weeks, sends a flood of warmth through your chest. "It's kind of nice, actually."

"Good," you say. "Now take off your shirt. You're going to need a little sunscreen."

Echo's eyebrows lift. “What?”

"Come on," you wheedle, shaking the bottle at him. "Don't worry, I'll help."

"That's not—" he begins, but he doesn't seem to be able to find the words to finish. Finally, he sighs and shrugs out of his shirt, folding it and placing it on the blanket. Before he can say anything else, you move behind him, squeezing a generous amount of the lotion into your hands and rubbing them together.

"I'm going to start with your back," you tell him. You smooth your hands over his shoulders, feeling the soft skin beneath your palms, and his muscles flex beneath your touch. You move your hands over his broad back, covering every inch of exposed skin, and Echo groans as you hit a knot just below his shoulder blade.

"Right there?"

"Yeah," he says. He's practically melting under your touch, and you keep working, kneading your thumbs into the spot. "Force, that feels good."

You don't answer, focusing instead on getting the last bit of sunscreen in his skin. After a moment, he seems to gather himself, and you see him glance at the bottle, his brow furrowing.

"Why do I need sunscreen?" he asks.

"To keep you from burning."

He looks confused.

"You have sensitive skin, remember? And we've been traveling a lot lately, which means you haven't gotten much time in the sun. You don't want to burn."

Echo opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already climbing into his lap, your hands skimming over his shoulders.

"I should get your front, too," you murmur, and his eyes darken. His hand finds your hip, his scomp skimming up your back, and he's looking up at you, his expression open and vulnerable. You can feel the warmth of him through your clothes, and a familiar heat starts to coil in your stomach.

"You're distracting me," he mutters, his gaze flickering down to your lips.

"Is it working?"

"Yes."

You smirk and lean in, brushing a kiss against his mouth before smearing a line of sunscreen down the bridge of his nose. He yel and you pull back, laughing as his face scrunches up in distaste.

"What—"

"That's what you get," you say, grinning. "Come on, let's get the rest of you covered."

Echo grumbles a little but settles back against the blanket. You're thorough, taking care to spread the lotion across his arms and legs, over his broad chest, and down the smooth planes of his stomach. He's warm and pliant under your touch, letting out little noises of contentment whenever you find a particularly tight spot. By the time you've covered the last inch of skin, he looks thoroughly relaxed.

"There," you say, smiling at him. You run your hand down his side, and Echo shudders. "All done."

"Thanks," he says. He opens his eyes, squinting against the sunlight, and frowns. You’re already standing up, dusting sand off your legs, and you see him tense.

"Wait, what are you doing?"

You pause, your hands on the hem of your shirt.

"What does it look like I’m doing?”

He pushes himself up onto his elbows.

"It looks like you're taking off your clothes."

"I am."

You strip off your shirt, and you toss it over his head, smiling as he pulls it away. He freezes, staring at the scrap of fabric in his hand, and his eyes drop to your chest.

"This is..."

"I told you I had a new swimsuit," you remind him as you drop your shorts and step out of them, "and now you get to see it."

He looks like his brain is short circuiting, and his gaze rakes across your body, taking in every inch of exposed skin and the tiny bits of fabric covering the parts that aren't. You grin and turn around, slowly bending over to pick up the discarded shorts. You look back over your shoulder and his eyes are wide, and he swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry.

"See something you like?"

"Uh huh," he says faintly. He licks his lips and tries to drag his eyes up, but they're fixed firmly on the swell of your ass, the way the fabric hugs the curve of it and leaves the skin exposed. His mouth opens, and you know he's trying to find the words, but instead, all that comes out is a faint croak.

"Good," you say. "I'm glad."

You grab the bottle of sunscreen and settle down on the blanket.

"I'm going to need a little help, though," you say. "I can't get my back."

You tilt your head back and Echo nods, the motion slow and almost hypnotized. He stands, crossing the blanket and kneeling down behind you. He waits for you to dispense some into his hand, and his fingers trail across the nape of your neck as he smooths the lotion over your skin. His touch is warm, and gentle, and the feeling sends a pleasant shiver down your spine.

It’s rare for the two of you to have this much time alone together, and you can't help but let yourself enjoy it, leaning into his touch. You're not even trying to tease him, but his breath still catches every time his hands sweep lower, his fingers tracing along the waistband of your swimsuit. He takes his time, making sure that not a single inch of skin is left uncovered, and by the time he's done, the tension between the two of you is practically crackling.

He sits back, his hand still lingering on the small of your back, and the two of you are quiet. He's staring at you, and there's something different about the way he's looking at you, something almost... reverent.

You've always known he wants you, have been able to read it on his face and in his touch, but this, the way he's staring at you now, is more than that. It's desire, yes, but there's something deeper, something softer and sweeter, and it makes your heart flutter in your chest.

The two of you haven't done anything like this before. Even your previous trysts had been frantic and rushed, a matter of stolen moments in darkened rooms and shadowy corners. But here, the two of you are exposed, out in the open where anyone could see, and yet the thought doesn't fill you with dread or worry. It's thrilling, in a way, and the fact that Echo doesn't seem to care either way just adds to it.

But despite that, neither of you make a move. You sit there, both of you watching each other, and you know that if you gave the slightest indication, he'd pounce, and the two of you would be wrapped up in each other, just like all those times before. But for the first time, you don't want that. You want him to stay just like this, watching you, and for you to watch him in turn.

So, instead, you reach out and brush your thumb over his bottom lip, and he sighs, his eyelids fluttering closed. He's warm under your touch, his lips slightly chapped from the wind, and he leans into you, pressing a kiss to your palm. His scomp skims up your back, the metal warm from the sun, and he pulls you close.

You press yourself against his chest, tucking your head into the space between his neck and shoulder, and his arm comes around to wrap around your waist, holding you there.

It's peaceful, the two of you sitting together like that. It feels normal, and right, and the feeling that settles over you is warm and comfortable, like being wrapped up in a blanket. It's perfect, and you never want it to end.

But, like all good things, it eventually has to, and Echo's comm chirps. The noise seems to echo across the sand, shattering the fragile bubble of peace the two of you have found. He pulls away, digging through the pockets of his shorts, and he swears under his breath.

“Rex,” he says as he holds up the comm. You nod, and he activates it, and the captain's voice crackles through.

"Echo, I just sent over some new intel. Can you check it out? It might be a lead on the ship."

"Yeah, of course," Echo replies, though his tone is a little hesitant. He glances over at you, his brows drawing together, and you force a smile, ignoring the way your heart has plummeted into the pit of your stomach.

"Duty calls," you say, trying for levity.

Echo hesitates, glancing at the comm and back at you, and he lets out a sigh.

“Everything okay?” Rex asks.

Echo doesn't answer, not looking away from you. You give him a reassuring smile, and his expression clears, his mouth twitching a little as if he's thinking.

"Everything's fine," he says finally. “I'm a little busy right now, but I'll look over the intel and get back to you later."

There’s a moment of silence, and you hold your breath, wondering if Rex will call him out. But instead, he laughs.

"Busy, huh?"

Echo rolls his eyes.

"Yeah," he says. He shifts, pulling you closer, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Something like that."

"All right, fine," Rex says, and he sounds amused. "Glad you’re enjoying your vacation."

"I'm— yeah. Thanks, Rex."

"Bye, Rex," you add, leaning closer and raising your voice a little. Echo smirks, and he cuts the transmission.

"So," you say, "you're just going to ignore the fact that we got called in for work, huh?"

"No," Echo replies, looking defensive. He sets the comm aside, reaching out to take your hand. "We're on a break. They can handle things without us for a day or two."

You smile at him, and he brushes his thumb over your knuckles, his eyes soft.

"Who are you and what have you done with Echo?" you tease. You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head, but when Echo's grip on your hand tightens, you freeze, a jolt running down your spine.

He scowls, his mouth twisting, and his eyes flicker away from you, looking out across the water. His hand falls away from yours, and his shoulders slump, the easy happiness that had surrounded him moments ago bleeding away.

"Don't say that," he mutters.

"What? Why not?"

"I just..."

He looks frustrated, and a little lost, and you wait, giving him time to find the words. His mouth is open, but he closes it, letting out a harsh sigh through his nose. His brow furrows, and he stares down at his lap, his jaw clenched tight.

"I'm sorry," you murmur, your hand finding his. "I didn't mean it like that."

"No, I—" he stops, closing his eyes. "I know."

He takes a deep breath, his hand turning to lace his fingers through yours.

"I'm tired," he says finally, his voice small. "I'm tired of... not getting to be with you, because we're always running, or on a mission, or just never in the same place. We never get a chance to be alone, and it's..."

His brow furrows, and his lips press together, as if he's frustrated.

"It's not enough," he says, and there's a note of finality to it, like the decision has been made. "And I'm done with it. So unless the galaxy is literally ending, I'm not leaving until we've had a chance to enjoy ourselves a little."

"And what if the galaxy is ending?"

"Then I'm sure Rex and the rest of the boys will take care of it," Echo says. He grins at you, looking proud of himself, and you laugh, shaking your head. "Until then, I'm staying here with you. And," he adds, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the side of your jaw, "you can distract me from thinking about work, if you want."

You lean into him, letting him press another kiss to your neck.

"Hmm," you murmur, pretending to think. "I guess I could do that. After all, we are supposed to be on a date."

"Exactly," he says. He smiles against your skin, and the feeling makes you shiver. "Come on, we can't let the day go to waste."

"I mean, there is one thing we can do," you say, grinning mischievously.

Echo's eyes darken, and his voice is a low rumble.

"What's that?"

You smile and stand, reaching down and tugging him up.

"Swim!"

He groans, and you laugh, ducking out of his grasp and darting for the waves. He's faster, though, and he catches you easily, his arms wrapping around your waist as he lifts you off the ground.

"Echo!" you yelp. You can hear the waves lapping against the shore, and you struggle in his grip. "Don't you dare! Don't you—"

"Sorry," he says, not sounding the least bit apologetic, and you shriek as he tosses you into the surf. You land with a splash, the cool water enveloping you, and you break the surface, pushing the wet strands of hair out of your face.

Echo is watching you, looking smug, and you glare at him.

"What's the matter?" he asks, feigning innocence. "Not having fun?"

You splutter a little, wiping the water from your eyes, and you launch yourself at him. You can't actually pick him up, and he doesn't fall, but the move does throw him off balance, and he stumbles backward, almost falling into the water. You laugh and try to shove him again, but his arm comes around your waist, holding you steady.

"Is that how it's going to be?"

You grin, and the two of you wrestle, the sounds of your laughter carrying over the waves.

"Oh, no, please!" Echo yelps. He tries to fend you off, and you laugh, ducking around his arms and splashing water up at him. "Mercy!"

"Never," you declare. You grab his shoulders, and he lets you push him under the waves. He comes up sputtering, and his arm comes around your waist, dragging you down with him.

You both surface, and Echo is laughing, the sound loud and free and happier than you've ever heard him. It sends a surge of warmth through your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you're leaning in and kissing him.

Echo kisses you back, his hands finding your waist. He's warm against you, even with the cool water lapping around your bodies, and his lips are soft and gentle. It's the opposite of the way you usually kiss him, all tongue and teeth and bruising hands, and it makes your chest ache, makes the longing that's always present whenever he's around swell a little bigger.

He must feel it too, because his grip on you tightens, and he hauls you closer, the two of you clinging to each other like your life depends on it.

When you break apart, he doesn't let go, and neither do you. The two of you stand there for a long time, breathing in sync, and for a moment, everything seems to slow. There's no war, no missions, no responsibilities or tasks. There's just you and him and the feeling of the ocean around you, the two of you pressed so close together it's hard to tell where one of you ends and the other begins.

“So,” he starts, his forehead pressing against yours. “What else do normal couples do on dates, anyway?"

You grin and step back, taking his hand.

"Come on, I'll show you."

And you do. The two of you spend the afternoon walking along the beach, collecting shells and talking, and occasionally, the two of you find yourselves making out like a couple of teenagers, hands roaming over each other and mouths moving frantically together. It's not until the sun is beginning to set that the two of you finally wander back up the hill to the house, and by the time you're back in the kitchen, Echo has you pinned against the counter, his mouth hot and demanding against yours.

"We're supposed to be getting ready for dinner," you mumble, even as you tilt your head, giving him better access to your neck.

"Fuck dinner," Echo growls. He nips at the skin just below your ear, and you moan, your nails digging into his shoulders. "I need you."

You're both still wet from the water, and you can feel him, hot and hard and pressing insistently against your hip. Your own desire surges, and suddenly the thought of a crowded restaurant or a stuffy dining room is the last thing you want.

"I've got a better idea," you murmur, and he groans against your neck.

"Tell me," he breathes, and the feeling of his breath against your skin makes you shiver.

"Shower," you manage. The word has barely left your lips before he's pulling away, tugging you after him as he heads for the stairs.

The two of you don't make it far, and neither of you seems to care. As soon as the door to the bedroom is closed behind him, he's crowding you up against it, his hands sliding under your shirt and his mouth hot on yours. You can feel him, hard and insistent against you, and he groans, grinding his hips against you.

"Gods, I missed this," he pants. He nips at your ear, his teeth scraping across the skin. "Missed you. Missed touching you and kissing you and—"

"Shower," you repeat, gasping as he bites down on your shoulder. "Now.”

"Whatever you want," he mumbles.

He pulls back, and the two of you race down the hall, stripping out of your clothes as you go. He's in the fresher before you, the water already on, and by the time you step in behind him, he's got his back pressed to the tile, his cock hard and heavy between his legs.

You step inside, the water cascading down around the two of you, and Echo's gaze drops, raking over your body. You can see him, taking in the way the water streams over your skin, and the way his eyes darken sends a thrill through you.

You don't bother teasing him. Instead, you push him up against the wall, dropping to your knees and pressing a line of kisses down his stomach. His hand drops to your hair, tangling in the wet strands, and he lets out a choked moan.

"This is a date, right?" you ask, smiling innocently up at him. He nods, his gaze fixed firmly on you, and his grip on your hair tightens. "Good. I've always wanted to give someone a blowjob on a first date."

"Oh, fuck," he moans, and his head thumps back against the wall.

You take him into your mouth, and his fingers tighten in your hair. You look up at him, watching as his expression twists, his brow furrowing and his jaw clenching, and the sight sends a thrill through you.

Echo isn't big on talking during sex. Most of the time, it's just groans and whines, with the occasional curse or muttered endearment. But now, his words seem to be spilling from his lips, the filthiest things you've ever heard pouring out as you suck and lick and take him deeper into your mouth.

"Yes, just like that," he groans, his hips jerking a little. His scomp slides up the wall, searching for purchase, and the sound of the metal scraping against the tile sends a rush of heat through you. "Your mouth is so good, sweetheart. So perfect. Fuck, I can't wait to get inside you."

His fingers are tangled in your hair, not pulling or tugging, just holding you in place. You're practically dripping, and you can feel your cunt clench, the ache in your core growing with every filthy thing that falls from his lips.

"Look at you," he mutters, his voice ragged. His eyes are fixed on the spot where his cock disappears into your mouth, and you hum, the vibrations making him shiver. "Gorgeous. Look so good on your knees for me."

You keep going, working him over until his voice is cracking, his words dissolving into incoherent moans and gasps.

"Fuck," he hisses, his hips stuttering a little. He's close, you can tell, his muscles trembling and his breathing ragged. "Stop. Need— want to—"

He tugs at your hair, trying to pull you off, and you ignore him, keeping up the pace. His words dissolve into a string of curses, and you look up at him, blinking innocently and hollowing your cheeks.

That's all it takes.

"Shit," he manages. "I'm— I'm gonna—"

His cock twitches, and his eyes squeeze shut, his face twisting as he comes, his mouth falling open. He shudders, and you swallow, keeping your eyes on him as his chest heaves, his muscles quivering.

You keep going until he's trembling, his hand pushing weakly at your head, and you let him slide from your lips, sitting back on your heels and grinning up at him. He's slumped against the wall, looking absolutely wrecked, and you smirk, reaching for the bottle of shampoo and standing up.

"Feel good?" you ask, and he nods, his eyes glazed and his lips parted.

"So good," he mumbles. "Need a minute."

"Take your time," you say, stepping around him and putting a generous amount of shampoo in your hands. You work it into your hair, feeling him watching you, and you smile to yourself, humming as you wash the salt from your skin.

"You're evil," he murmurs. He presses up behind you, his mouth dropping to the side of your neck.

"I think the term you're looking for is generous," you tease.

"That, too."

He kisses the spot just below your ear, his teeth grazing against the skin. His hand finds your waist, and his scomp slides up your arm, tugging your hand away from your hair.

"Let me," he murmurs, and you nod. He gently works the suds out, his hand running through your hair and sending pleasant shivers down your spine. His scomp slides down, brushing over the side of your breast, and his other hand joins, the water raining down on the two of you.

"You're beautiful," he says, and you turn your head, looking back at him. He's watching you, his expression open and unguarded, and there's a look in his eyes that makes your breath catch in your throat. "I'm so lucky."

"Echo," you start, but the words die on your lips as his scomp skims lower, brushing against your hip and slipping between your legs. The tip finds your clit, and you gasp, arching back against him.

"So beautiful," he repeats. He rubs tight circles over your clit, his scomp moving slowly, almost lazily, and you lean back, resting your head on his shoulder. His arm comes around your waist, and his hand slides up to cup your breast, his thumb rubbing against the nipple. "You're amazing, sweetheart. I love watching you."

You moan and turn your head to press your mouth against his. He kisses you, his hand cupping your jaw, and you gasp as his scomp moves a little faster.

"I love the noises you make," he murmurs. He nips at the corner of your jaw, his tongue darting out to soothe the sting. "Love the way you taste, the way you feel."

He's everywhere, his lips pressing against the side of your neck, his hand sliding down your stomach and between your legs, his fingers brushing against where you're aching for him. He presses them into you, and his thumb replaces his scomp, the tip  tracing patterns over your thigh as his fingers curl, finding that spot inside of you that makes you shudder.

"Echo," you gasp, the sound practically a sob. You reach back, grabbing onto his neck, and he hums, his arm tightening around you.

"I love being inside you," he says, and his voice is ragged, the sound sending a pulse of heat through you. His cock is hard again, pressing insistently against your ass, and his hips grind forward, the feeling of his body against yours sending a rush of warmth through you.

"Want that," you gasp. "Want you."

"You have me," he murmurs. He adds a third finger, and you whine, your nails digging into his neck.

"Not enough."

He grins against your skin, and the motion makes something inside you snap. You're suddenly desperate for him, for the feeling of him filling you up and driving away the ache that's been building for weeks. You try and turn, but his arm keeps you in place, and he chuckles, his thumb moving a little faster.

"Wait," he says.

"Echo, please," you beg, and he groans, his teeth grazing over your skin.

"Patience," he murmurs. "You can wait a little longer."

He presses his lips to the side of your neck, and his fingers work, curling and thrusting and making your whole body go tight. His arm is solid around you, holding you in place, and the thought of him, surrounding you, pinning you to the spot and taking what he wants, sends a rush of heat through you.

"Please," you whisper, and his fingers twist, his thumb moving faster. "I'm gonna—"

"Yeah," he breathes. "That's it. Come for me, sweetheart. Let me see you."

The sound of his voice, the feeling of his fingers moving inside you and his cock pressed against you is too much. You break, coming with a loud cry, and he keeps going, working you through it. Your body goes limp, and Echo holds you, keeping his fingers buried inside you and his scomp drawing tight circles over your clit. You whimper and try to push him away, the sensations too much, but he doesn't stop, not until a second wave hits and you're writhing, clinging to him for dear life.

By the time he finally pulls away, your legs are trembling, and you're panting, slumped against him and unable to do anything but whimper as he turns the water off and steps out of the shower.

You don't register him drying you off or lifting you and carrying you down the hall, and it's not until the door to the bedroom closes behind him that your brain finally clears enough to form coherent thoughts.

"Echo," you say.

He looks down at you, smiling softly, and he kisses you, the press of his lips warm and gentle. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. He lays you down on the bed, his eyes drinking in every inch of you, and it's so tender, so sweet that the emotion wells up, filling your chest until you're sure it will burst.

It's only been a few weeks, but it feels like a lifetime. The longing, the worry, the fear... it's been eating away at you, and being here with him, like this, makes the stress and anxiety from the past month melt away, leaving you feeling more at peace than you have in weeks.

He's always been the calm in the storm. You've lost track of the number of times you've lain awake at night, wondering if this was the last time, if this would be the one where something went wrong and neither of you came home. He's always been there, a solid presence, an unwavering support, and the thought of losing him is almost too much to bear.

But here, in this moment, there's nothing but the two of you. There's no war, or missions, or fighting or running. It's just the two of you, wrapped up in each other, safe and warm and together.

And in that moment, you're so happy, you think your heart might explode.

He lays down next to you, his hand finding your waist, and you kiss him, your hands cupping his jaw and stubble scraping across your palms. It's gentle and unhurried, the two of you taking the time to relearn each other. The feeling of his mouth against yours, his skin under your hands, his body pressed against you is almost overwhelming, and you find yourself clinging to him, holding him as close as you can and trying to commit the feeling to memory.

It's not until he rolls on top of you that the slow, lazy pace breaks.

You gasp, his mouth hot and demanding against yours, and his cock presses insistently against your thigh. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he groans, grinding his hips down.

"Want you," you manage. Your hands run over his back, sliding down and gripping his ass.

"You have me," he says, his voice rough. He kisses down your neck, nipping and biting at the soft skin.

"Inside," you gasp, and he moans, his mouth dropping lower, his lips moving over the swell of your breasts.

"Yeah," he breathes. "Yeah, I want that."

"Come on," you say, pushing at his shoulders. He sits up and kneels between your legs, and he reaches down, stroking his cock and giving it a firm squeeze. He looks massive from this angle, his broad chest and shoulders towering over you, and the sight makes something clench deep in your core.

"I don't want to rush," he murmurs, his gaze dropping to the apex of your thighs. "Want to take my time."

You sit up, and his hand finds your waist, pulling you forward and into his lap. Your arms wind around his neck, and his scomp slides up the length of your back, pressing you closer.

"We have time," you tell him, and his eyes are dark and soft and full of a tenderness that makes your heart flutter.

"Yeah," he says. "We do."

You press a kiss to his cheek, and his hand drops between the two of you, gripping his cock and lining it up with your entrance. His mouth finds yours as the thick head slides into you, and it's slow, so agonizingly slow, you're sure he's trying to drive you insane.

You don't remember him being this big.

You know that's ridiculous, that of course he's still the same size, but the thought has a whimper falling from your lips. You try and grind down, needing more, but his arm comes around, pinning you to his chest, and he shakes his head.

"You're killing me," you mutter, and his teeth flash in the fading sunlight, his eyes dancing.

"I can stop," he teases.

"Don't you dare," you say, and he chuckles, pressing another kiss to your lips.

He keeps going, the steady, agonizing pressure of his cock pushing inside making your whole body go tense. You can feel the way he's stretching you open, the way your body has to make room for him, and the thought makes your mind blank, the ache in your core growing.

By the time he's finally, finally all the way inside, the two of you are breathing heavily. He’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been, and the stretch is just shy of painful. It makes your hips jerk a little, and Echo lets out a moan, his hand finding your hip and his fingers digging into the soft skin.

"You're perfect," he mumbles, and you laugh, the sound turning into a moan as he grinds his hips up, pushing a little deeper.

You cling to him, his arms coming around you and pulling you closer. His forehead drops to your shoulder, and you wrap your legs around his waist, letting him pull you closer, as close as possible. The two of you stay like that, holding each other and letting the sensation wash over you.

Eventually, the pressure becomes too much, and you start to squirm, shifting and rocking your hips. Echo takes the hint and starts to move, and the first slow, lazy thrust makes the both of you moan.

He starts a rhythm, and it's like the entire galaxy has narrowed down to just the two of you. Nothing else matters, just the feeling of his cock sliding into you, the warmth of his breath on your neck, the feeling of his heartbeat against your skin.

You know how much he loves being inside you. He's always told you, whispered it against the skin of your neck, moaned it in the dead of night, panted it while you rode him, the words falling from his lips like a prayer. He never seems to tire of it, always desperate to get as deep as possible, and sometimes, you've wondered if there's a part of him that's afraid this will be the last time.

But he's never done it like this.

He's never held you in his arms and pressed kisses to your skin, his hand and scomp running reverently over every inch of your body. He's never taken his time, his hips rocking forward in a steady, measured rhythm, his mouth finding yours again and again. He's never let himself drown in the feeling of it, his eyes half-closed and his face twisted in an expression of pure bliss.

He's never made love to you before.

You've never put a name to it, the way the two of you are together. You've always been careful not to call it anything, knowing that doing so would cross a line neither of you wanted to. It's dangerous, the sort of thing that can break hearts and destroy lives, and you'd both known it. So you'd never said it, never acknowledged it, and had kept it to yourselves, locked away where no one else could ever see.

But now, with his arms wrapped around you, his touch tender and his mouth soft against yours, there's no other word for it. It's the only explanation for the feeling, the one that's welling up inside of you and threatening to swallow you whole, and the realization sends a thrill through you, settling in the pit of your stomach and burning like a sun.

He's making love to you.

You hold him closer, your hand gripping the back of his neck, and his lips find yours, warm and soft. He doesn't say anything, his gaze fixed firmly on your face, and his brow is furrowed, his jaw clenched and his eyes burning.

"So beautiful," he mumbles. His hand runs over your waist, squeezing lightly, and he lets out a shaky breath. "I love this. Love you."

Your breath catches, and for a second, it feels like the world stops. The only sound is his breathing, the only feeling is his hand on your skin, and the only thing that exists is him.

"Echo," you whisper, and his name is a question, the only thing you can manage.

He doesn't seem to hear you, or maybe he doesn't understand.

"Love seeing you like this," he mumbles, his gaze flitting over your face. "Love touching you, love being with you. I don't—"

He breaks off, and his head drops, his nose brushing against your jaw. His breathing is ragged, and his grip on you tightens, and something tells you he didn't mean to say that, didn't mean for those words to fall from his lips.

His hips slow, and he holds you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck and taking a deep, shuddering breath. You can feel him, his entire body trembling, and you pull him closer, your fingers cradling the back of his head and holding him against you.

"It's okay," you say softly, pressing a kiss to his temple.

His scomp skims down your back, the metal still warm from the sun and the warm water. It's a tender gesture, and the fact that he's using it to hold you, instead of his hand, is a testament to how far the two of you have come.

"I love this," he murmurs, and you know what he means.

He doesn't want to leave, doesn't want to go back to the war and the fighting and the constant struggle. He wants to stay, with you, just like this, forever. And as much as you want that, the two of you both know it's not an option.

"Me too," you murmur.

"I wish..."

"Yeah," you breathe. "Me too."

"I love you," he says again.

You swallow, and there's a lump in your throat, a feeling that seems to settle over you, making your skin feel warm and your pulse thrum. You're not sure what it is, but you know that this, whatever it is, is important, that it means something, and the sudden urge to run from it, to shove it down and push it away, is strong. But Echo’s always been there for you, a steady, unwavering presence, and even though you're terrified, the knowledge that he's here, that he won't leave, settles something in you, and the feeling starts to shift.

Instead of the warmth, it's like a fire, burning away the anxiety and the fear, and the knowledge that comes with it makes you feel lighter than you have in months. You're not sure what it means, or what you'll do with it, but there's a sense of comfort in it, and the smile that stretches across your face is genuine.

"I love you, too," you say.

He makes a strangled noise, and his grip on you tightens, his fingers digging into the skin.

"I love you," he repeats, the words falling from his lips. "Force, I love you. So much. I love you."

He says it over and over, the words spilling out of him. He's still hard inside you, and the feeling sends a bolt of heat through you, your cunt clenching around him. He gasps, his hips grinding forward, and he moans, the sound muffled against your skin.

"Please," you whimper, your nails scraping against the back of his neck.

"Anything," he gasps, and his hips start to move, slow and steady.

It's not frenzied, or frantic, and it doesn't need to be. You have time, all the time in the world, and for once, neither of you are trying to race the clock. He's gentle, his movements languid and unhurried, every thrust like a wave, pulling you deeper and deeper.

He's murmuring the whole time, his voice low and rough, the words tumbling from his lips. He's talking about everything, about the way he feels about you, about the things he wants, the places he wants to take you. It's filthy, and sweet, and so perfect, and you let the words wash over you, reveling in the feeling of him inside you and the way his voice makes your stomach clench.

"Echo," you whine, your thighs tightening around his waist. "Close."

"I've got you," he murmurs. His hand slips between the two of you, his thumb finding the swollen, slippery bud of your clit, rubbing slow circles over it. "That's it, sweetheart. Come for me."

The pleasure builds, slowly and steadily, until you can't think, can't breathe, can't do anything but feel. It's intense and intimate, Echo's eyes fixed firmly on your face, his lips parted in awe. You feel open, exposed, vulnerable, and the only thing that makes it bearable is the fact that he's right there with you, his expression twisted and his muscles trembling, his control slipping more and more with each passing second.

"Please," you beg, and his hips speed up, his rhythm faltering as he starts to lose his grip.

"Come for me," he gasps. "Let go. I'll take care of you."

And you do, his words sending a flood of warmth through you, spreading out until you can feel it everywhere, in every part of your body. Your cunt pulses, clenching around him, and Echo groans, his eyes squeezing shut and his mouth dropping open.

"Fuck," he chokes out. He doesn't slow, doesn't stop, just keeps fucking you through it, and you're shaking, clinging to him and shuddering as the pleasure keeps building. "Shit, sweetheart. You feel so good."

"Love the way you feel," you manage, your voice hoarse and strained. "So full. Love your cock, love you."

He curses, his hips jerking, and his scomp digs into the skin of your back, holding you tighter. His hand leaves your clit, and he grabs your thigh, wrapping his arm around your leg and hiking it higher. The angle changes, and he hits something inside of you that makes you sob, his hips snapping forward.

"Again," he grunts.

You nod, the feeling so intense that you can't manage words. You're practically sobbing, the sounds falling from your lips without thought, and Echo's gaze is fixed on you, his expression hungry and awestruck.

"Fuck," he growls, his thrusts getting more and more erratic. "Come on, sweetheart. Want to feel you. Wanna watch you come. Gonna fill you up. Make you mine."

It's filthy, the things he's saying, and you're lost in him, his hand gripping your waist and his scomp pressed into the small of your back. His gaze is burning, and it feels like the room is spinning, like the world is coming apart at the seams and there's nothing left but the two of you, moving together.

"I can't—"

"That's it," he encourages, his voice rough. He's shaking, and you know he's close. "One more. Come on."

You can feel the tears sliding down your cheeks, and his eyes are wide, his expression stunned.

"Please," you gasp. "Echo, please."

"Fuck," he breathes.

It's like a switch has been flipped, and the slow, steady pace falls apart, his thrusts hard and fast. He surges forward, your back hitting the bed, and his scomp slides under your back, lifting you off the mattress.

It's too much, the new angle and the way he's staring at you, and a sob breaks from your throat, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

"Gorgeous," he breathes. "You're perfect. I love you."

There's a moment, a heartbeat where it seems like everything is suspended. His eyes are wide, and he looks almost... shocked, as if he can't believe what's happening, and something tells you that it's not just about this, about the two of you. It's bigger, somehow, deeper and more profound and the feeling that washes over you is pure, unadulterated joy.

And you can see it on his face, in the way his eyes widen and his mouth drops open. He looks like he's about to burst, and it's so raw, so perfect, and the realization hits you like a blaster bolt.

He's happy.

He's the happiest you've ever seen him, and the fact that it's because of you is overwhelming.

"Love you," he murmurs, and it's the last thing either of you say before the feeling crashes over the two of you.

You cry out, and the dam breaks. The pleasure rushes through you, hot and cold, and the waves break, sweeping over the both of you and carrying you away.

You come with a choked gasp, his name on your lips and his fingers digging into the skin of your thigh. His hips snap forward, and he grinds into you, his face twisting and a loud moan falling from his mouth at the way your body pulls him in, squeezing and pulsing around him.

"Oh, fuck," he breathes.

You cling to him, your eyes fixed on his face. He's beautiful like this, his lips parted and his cheeks flushed, his expression twisted into an expression of pure ecstasy. He holds himself there, buried to the hilt inside you as he starts to come, the first pulse of heat making you whimper.

You can feel his cock twitch, and his brow furrows, a broken sob falling from his lips. His grip on your thigh tightens, and his hips start to stutter, grinding into you and filling you up, his come dripping from you. He lets out another choked noise, and he falls forward, his weight settling on top of you and his mouth finding yours.

"So perfect," he pants, his hips rocking forward a few more times, his movements lazy and slow.

You can't respond, still gasping for air, and you can feel the way he's twitching, the way his body is shaking. It feels like forever before the feeling finally fades and Echo pulls back slightly, mindful of his weight. You can feel him dripping from where the two of you are connected, and you bite your lip, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Hi," you whisper, and he laughs, the sound breathless and a little giddy.

"Hi," he replies, grinning.

Echo's chest is heaving, his muscles quivering, and he looks absolutely wrecked. He's staring at you, his lips parted and his eyes wide, and he's looking at you the way people look at the sun after they've spent too long in the dark, like he's seeing something for the first time and never wants to look away.

"I love watching you," he says, his voice raw and hoarse. "Wish you could see yourself."

"Yeah?"

He nods and reaches up, brushing a strand of damp hair out of your face.

"So gorgeous," he murmurs. "Perfect. Wish I could stay inside you forever."

You hum, and his gaze drops, watching as he finally slides out, a trickle of his release following. He swallows, and he reaches down, his thumb slipping between your folds.

"Echo," you whine, your hips jerking a little.

"Gonna miss that," he mumbles, his tone almost dreamy.

"We've got a few days," you remind him. "And I'm not done with you yet."

He grins, and it's so boyish, so genuine and unguarded, that you find yourself reaching for him. Your hands slide up his chest, over the broad expanse of his shoulders and his neck, and your fingers brush over the spot just below his ear, tracing the edge of his jaw.

Echo leans into your touch, his eyes closing, and his head turns, his lips pressing against the inside of your wrist. You shiver and lean forward, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose. He wrinkles it, his eyes still closed, and you can't help the laugh that falls from your lips.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," you say, and he cracks one eye open, looking suspicious.

"You're laughing," he accuses.

"Because you're adorable."

His lips part, and his eyebrows rise. He doesn't say anything, but his face flushes, his cheeks going pink, and you grin.

"That's the last word I'd use to describe myself," he mutters. “Especially when I’m still inside you.”

"I think I'm the best judge of that," you point out, and he smirks, his eyes glinting.

"Well, if that's the case, I'd have to say the same about you," he teases, and he leans forward, nipping at the soft skin just below your ear. You yelp, and he chuckles, pressing another kiss to your shoulder before he pulls away, searching for his pants.

"Where are you going?" you whine.

"To order food," he says. He tugs his pants on, and the sight of him, completely naked except for the loose fitting black cargo pants, is enough to make your mouth water. "I'm starving, and if I'm going to keep this up, I'm gonna need my strength."

"You mean it?" you ask.

He raises an eyebrow.

"Did you really think I'd pass up the opportunity to have sex with the woman I love all day? In an actual bed? With an actual door that locks?"

Your heart flutters, and you grin.

"No, but I'm still glad to hear it."

"Good," he says. He walks back over, leaning down and kissing you, his lips warm and his stubble scraping against your skin.

"Order some food," you murmur, and he nods. "And maybe a bottle of wine."

"Whatever you want," he says. He steps away, and his gaze flits over you, taking in the way you're sprawled across the bed, still naked and covered in sweat and your combined release. He swallows and shakes his head, backing toward the door.

"I'll be back soon," he promises. He points a finger at you. "Don't move."

You give him a salute, and he grins, his eyes dancing.

"I love you," he says, and it's so easy, the words falling from his lips like they've always been there.

"I love you," you tell him, and the smile he gives you is enough to light up the entire room.

The door closes behind him, and you collapse back onto the pillows, closing your eyes and letting yourself revel in the feeling of the bed beneath you, the cool air drifting over your heated skin, and the lingering ache between your thighs.

This isn't how you imagined this week would go. You'd thought that it would be a brief respite, a chance to relax before heading back to the fight. You'd expected a week of stress and anxiety, of wondering if it would be the last one, and whether or not you'd get to spend any of it with the man we’re falling for despite your better judgement.

Instead, you're here, lying in a bed, in a place where there's no war and no missions and no responsibilities. For the first time in months, there's no one depending on you, no one waiting for you to save them, and no one demanding things from you that you're not sure you can give.

It's peaceful, and it's perfect, and the thought that Echo, the man who's seen and experienced more than anyone should ever have to, feels the same makes you smile.

For the first time since the war started, everything is good.

You let your eyes fall closed, and the sound of the waves is soothing, the faint noise carrying up the hill.

In the end, it's not the ocean or the house or the fact that for once, you have nothing to do.

It's him.

Echo.

He's the reason this feels like home.

And in the end, you know that's the only thing that really matters.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @champagnejaig

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

[theemissuniverse]

“IS YOUR GIRLFRIEND SINGLE?” HENRY HART X FEM!READER

SUMMARY : After Henry as Kid Danger looks bad on the news, he helps the community in order to gain public opinion back. When he meets you, his whole mission goes out the window. (Henry is 18 & graduated from high school, reader is 20. This is low-key written as if it was an actual episode.)

CONTENT : flirty Henry, suggestive content, reader is very feminine

MASTERLIST

As much as he loved fighting crime and saving lives, being Kid Danger did not have its perks sometimes. Kinda like what he was doing now. After he had accidentally insulted veterans just because he said he didn’t think they should get a gold star for joining and didn’t think they were automatically good people on the news, Ray suggested for him to do community work to get the people back in his good graces.

Some of the stuff was small, like saving a cat from a tree. Others it was if he could save them from a burning building.

Just great.

He decided to take a break, going into a bakery to get something to drink and a small donut. When he walked in, it smelled amazing. The smell went to his stomach, making it let out a rumble.

The atmosphere was girly. He could tell the owner was a woman in her twenties just by the small details in the place. And because it was so goddamn pink.

He went to step in further but when he did, a man stood in front of him. He had to be about early to mid twenties. Henry noticed the baggy clothes he had on and he could’ve sworn it was a hot summer day.

The heat was clearly not getting to this man as he had the brightest smile on his face. “Oh my god! You’re Kid Danger!”

Henry was annoyed. And hungry but he knew he couldn’t be as mean or as sassy like he usually would be so he instead pulled off a fake smile. “Hey, man.”

“Can I get a photo?”

‘Can I kick your ass?’ Henry bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from saying something smart like why is a grown ass man asking for a picture but he waved it off. “Sure.”

The guy stood next to him and roughly grabbed a hold of Henry’s shoulder. Henry let out a sigh but fixed his face when the guy held up the phone for the photo and smiled.

After the guy took the picture, he backed away from Henry to examine the photo. “My girl is not gonna believe this.”

“I’m sure she isn’t.” Henry pulled off but what he really wanted to say was ‘I’m sure she isn’t gonna believe a grown man was excited to see Kid Danger.’

“Thanks man, I really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no prob….lem.”

Henry was in amazement when he saw you behind the counter. You were absolutely, undeniably gorgeous. You were so breathtakingly feminine that it made his stomach have butterflies.

The way you smiled at customers seemed like you had all the joy in the world and he wanted to be included in that joy. He noticed the way you’d tug on your sleeve when you were a little nervous or anxious. Your freshly done acrylic nails tapped on the counter and boy did he want to see those hands wrapped around something else.

Your lip gloss went with your black lip liner perfectly. He didn’t care what sticky mess he’d create, they were gorgeous and he wanted to kiss them.

When you walked back to hand the customer her muffin, he noted you wore heels but you were still shorter than him. So that had to put you at 5’4 height which was insanely short for him considering he was a 6’0 male.

You wore a cute little apron over your shirt and skirt. The way you walked, you knew you were pretty. You knew men found you hot. That’s what made you attractive to him.

“Um…” Henry forced himself to break out of his trance. “Who’s that?”

The guy turned to see who he was talking about and when he got it, he nodded in confirmation. “Oh, that’s my girlfriend. She owns the bakery.”

Henry kept staring at you, trying to find it within himself to look away but he couldn’t. He needed to talk to you. “Is your girlfriend single?”

The guy laughed when Henry said this. “That’s a good one, man.”

“Uh huh…yeah…” Henry didn’t bother to put up with the conversation anymore before walking over towards the front counter.

There you were, counting the drawer. He figured you were changing shifts at this time which was perfect because you wouldn’t be busy dealing with customers.

“I’ll help you in one minute.” You looked up to give who you thought to be a customer with a polite smile when you saw who it was. “Kid Danger? What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighborhood. Trying to take care of the town.” Henry said slyly. He saw you snicker and raised a brow at it. “What?”

“You and Captain Man trying to do crowd control from the news thing?” You asked, going back to count the money.

Henry had completely forgotten about that. “Oh you saw that?”

“Relax. I agree with you. I don’t think the troops are all good people.”

Henry relaxed after finding out you weren’t mad at him about what he said on the news. “Oh. Okay. Cool. What’s your name?”

You continued to count the money with a playful smile. “Why do you need to know my name?”

He thought about it for a second before coming up with an answer. “Because…” he leaned against the counter. “I wanna know if your name is as pretty as you look.”

You chuckled at his flirtatious response and looked up at him. “Aren’t you a little young?”

Henry scoffed, offended. He wasn’t that young and you didn’t look that old. “I’m eighteen. That’s the legal drinking age in Australia.”

“Oh really?”

“Uh huh.”

You went back to count the money before responding. “(Y/N).”

“I was right. It’s just as pretty as you.”

He noticed you trying to hold back your smile. “You’re cute but I have a boyfriend.”

Henry tilted his head at you. He then turned around to face the man you claimed as your boyfriend. He was bragging to all your customers that he just took a photo with Kid Danger. He then faced his attention to you. He could tell you were embarrassed. “That him?”

You sighed, looking away. “Unfortunately.”

“How old is the grown man?”

“Twenty four.”

“Oh…how old are you?”

“Twenty.” You finished counting the money and started to place money in envelopes for your drop. “Do you want something to eat or drink?”

Henry looked at your rack of baked goods. It was a whole range of muffins, donuts, cupcakes, and cookies. “Give me the pink sprinkled one.” He saw the look you were giving him and he pointed his finger at you. “Shut up. I can be grown and like sprinkles.”

You held your hands up in defense and went to grab the donut. You handed it to him and when you did, he pulled out his wallet. “Oh, you’re good.”

“Don’t do that.” Henry handed you the twenty dollar bill and grabbed the donut. “Keep it.”

You gave him a look as you put the money in the register and put the rest in the tip jar. “Money doesn’t impress me Kid Danger.”

“Tell me what does so I can.” Henry took the bite out the donut and when he did, the pink sprinkled chocolate donut melted in his mouth. “That’s a really good donut.”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Your boyfriend walked over towards the two of you. He leaned over the counter and kissed you on the cheek. “Hey, babe.”

Henry was furious. You were completely out of his league. How the hell did he even get you? Why were you downgrading? You owned a bakery for damn sake. It was like you were doing charity work for him.

Don’t get him wrong, Henry wasn’t exactly a homewrecker but the home doesn’t look too happy. Not to mention it didn’t matter once he wanted something. When he wanted something or matter of fact, someone, he was going to get it.

“That is bizarre.” Henry said out loud.

“Babe! Look! I met Kid Danger.”

You nodded, finishing with the register. “I see.”

“But I’m too young?” Henry questioned, motioning to your boyfriend and you rubbed your forehead out of embarrassment.

At the next moment, a big man walked in with a brown paper bag on his face. Henry looked at him and he already knew he was going to be trouble. “I hate this town.”

The big man walked over to the three of you at the register. “Give me everything! This is a robbery!”

Henry placed his hand on his temple in annoyance at the man. “Why do you all announce you’re doing a robbery? We see you doing it!”

Your boyfriend let out a squeal as if he was a little girl and ran away, hiding in the bathroom. Henry gave you a look again and you sighed. “I know. I know.”

Henry was impressed. You didn’t seem that phased with a big man coming in trying to rob you. The man went in his jacket pocket then pulled out what appeared to be a gun.

Everyone in the bakery got down, fearing for their lives. Henry didn’t and you didn’t.

You were a little nervous, you had to admit but you felt a little at ease considering a superhero was standing next to you.

“I said give me everything.”

Henry sat his donut on the counter before stepping in front of him so he wouldn’t be in eye contact with you. “Dude. Step out.” He looked at you and then looked at the robber. He whispered the next thing so you wouldn’t hear him. “I’m trying to get her number.”

This time the robber pointed the gun. “Now!”

Henry gave him a look not even phased. “Is that a nerf gun?”

The robber’s demeanor faltered at the question. “Um. No.”

“Yes it is.”

“No it’s not.”

“The tip is orange!”

“You’re about the catch this tip in a minute.”

Henry’s eyes blinked at the way the robber worded. “Whoa. First of all, pause. Second of all, you’re wearing a brown paper bag on your head.”

“So?”

Henry reached over, snatching the brown paper bag to reveal his identity. The robber gasped and Henry rolled his eyes, throwing the bag down. “Just leave before I embarrass you.”

The robber didn’t listen. He pointed the fake gun to the rest of the customers, scaring them. “Give me everything now!”

“Okay…I’m officially done with this.” Henry spun the robber back to him and punched him in the face. The robber didn’t go down because he was so big.

The robber tried to punch Henry but Henry with his hyper mobility was quicker. He grabbed the man’s hand and made him punch himself. Henry kicked him in the stomach. Then twisted his arm before giving him a spin kicked.

The man finally got knocked down. Henry looked back over to you in a flirty way. “See how I just did that?”

You looked at him, amused. “I see you’re not finished.”

“Hmm?”

The man grabbed Henry by his shoulders and picked him up before tossing him across the bakery. Henry landed on the wooden chairs and broke them on the process.

You sighed. “Really? I was just about to paint those chairs.”

Henry got up quickly. He charged at the man. He had the man pressed up against the wall. Henry kneed him in the gut and choked him.

The robber pushed Henry to the ground. He then tried to stomp on Henry but Henry moved too fast. Henry kicked him in his ankle. It made the robber drop to his knees. Henry grabbed a rack of cookies and smacked him on the robber’s head.

“Okay, you win! You win!” The robber got up, kind of crying and ran out the store.

Henry dusted the cookie residue off his fingers. “And that’s the way the cookie crumbles.” When everyone felt safe, they stood to their feet and clapped at Henry. Henry waved at the applause before walking back over to your register.

He took the donut he was eating before off the counter and bit back in it. “Hopefully I can finish in peace now.”

You eyed Henry up and down. “You know what? That was impressive.”

Henry wasn’t expecting you to say that. “Really?” He asked with a mouthful.

You leaned over the counter. You used your finger to wipe the remaining crumbs off his lips. Your pink acrylic nails grazed his lips. You looked him right in the eyes as you did it. “Really.”

Henry really wanted to bend you over the counter after doing the gesture but unfortunately he had to control himself.

He couldn’t say anything because your boyfriend came out the bathroom. “Is he gone?”

This time, you looked pissed.

You came from behind the counter and slapped him across the face. “You idiot! You were just going to let him rob me? I mean…he was a shitty robber but that is so not the point!”

Your boyfriend looked guilty. “Well…well Kid Danger handled it right?”

You nodded in a matter of fact way. “Yeah. He’s going to be handling a lot of stuff from now on. We’re done.”

“Ooh.” Henry said like a child as he finished the donut. “You heard her.”

Your boyfriend looked like a sad puppy dog. He started to walk out of the store but before he did stopped to look at Henry. “Can I get an autograph?”

Henry gave him a look. “Dude. No.”

Your ex finally walked out. You looked over to everyone in the store. “Alright everyone. I’m closing early for the day.”

Everyone nodded, understanding before exciting the store. Henry walked a little to you to cut the distance. “Did I hear correctly you dumped the man child?”

You didn’t say anything. You went in your pocket and handed him your business card. “Call me when you’re not busy taking robbers down.”

Henry looked at the phone number and smiled. “Oh yeah? Did I also earn a heroic kiss?”

“No, but you can watch this ass walk away.” You told him playfully as you started to head in the back to your office.

Henry tilted his head, biting his lips as he watched. Your ass did look good in the skirt you were wearing. “I’m not complaining.” You let out a laugh when you hit your office and Henry looked back down to the number. “Man, I love being Kid Danger.”

[masked-speaker88]

Shinji Hirako Head-cannons

These are some of my personal head-cannons for Shinji. This includes romantic and otherwise. Minors do not interact!

Shinji is a like a father figure to Momo. He is protective and even casually teasing to her. He knows how Aizen hurt her and wants to help her heal. He wants her to become the version of herself.

Shinji sees Hiyori as a little sister who drives him crazy, but cares about her at the end of the day. These two have that "not siblings, but should be" dynamic.

Shinji is self conscious about his appearance which is why he spends so much time on his hair and clothes. This can be noted within some of his fights with Hiyori. I personally think a lot of this stems from his inability to gain weight.

Shinji has his hair cut in a bob with the angled bangs because he feels like it accents his face and draws a little of attention to him that he may not receive otherwise.

Shinji knows he's weird as hell, and relishes in it. He knows he's unique and can turn heads without even trying when it comes to his personality.

Shinji has a love for jazz and dressing up. He gives off old man vibes without being old. Weird, old man vibes and yet he's still such a pretty boy~

Shinji is really good at reading people and their intentions. There is little to nothing that anyone can hide from him long.

He knows how to take charge and can give plenty of reasons as to why he's the leader.

Romantic and Spicy Head-Cannons Below

Hitting on his inability to gain weight, I personally think this man is in love with thick girls. Something about their nice thick thighs, big round asses, hip dips, and sexy curves get him hot and bothered. Its like he was prewired to lose his mind.

He loves make-out sessions that start out slow and sensual and lead into getting his tongue ring sucked on and gently bit. Anyone does this and you'll be begging for him to lose control.

Shinji loves spooning his partner. He loves the way their ass presses into his crotch nice and firm. He loves it even more when he can teasingly roll his hips up into them. He will pull their hair off their neck, sucking and kissing everywhere he can reach. Be prepared to look like a battlefield after one of his special moods.

Shinji has no problem using his tongue ring on all the pretty and sensitive parts that his partner has. Tits, thighs.. clit.. He'll make you wither under him and laugh about it.

Shinji is a switch. He loves to take control, but he also loves it when you ride him taking what you want from him. Riding him until you come around his nice slim long cock. He loves that the second you come, he gets to start thrusting up and over stimulating you until he fills you to the brim.

Shinji loves when his partner takes their hand pushing up the back of his neck slowly, before grabbing a fistful of his hair as he eats you out. He will loudly moan against your entrance, his hips that were already grinding into the mattress becoming more fervent.

Shinji will start an argument just to get you riled up enough to grab his tie and jerk him to your height. BUT be warned the second you do this, you're in for a long night.

Something else he LOVES is to be able to take a shower with his partner. It doesn't always have to end in sex for him. He just loves holding you in the shower with the hot water spraying around you. He contently hugs you tightly to his bare body, hands rubbing circles into your skin, and his face buried in your neck thanking you for loving him.

This man LOVES to slowly and sensually make love to you. He will pump his cock in you nice and slowly, mouth kissing anywhere he can get. He knows it drives you crazy, like an itch that's getting rubbed instead of scratched. But do be ensured that he will be making you come around him, your pleasure bursting after being so slowly built up. You will be so over stimulated and so content after this that you can't help but love it too.

Shinji will also bend you over the kitchen table and give you everything you've begged for by being such a brat. He knows when you get that bratty and mouthy that you're needy but too worked up to ask for it. "You've been bitchy all day, apparently you really need my fucking cock to rail it out of you!" He will proceed to grab your hair, and rail you over and over on the kitchen table with your tits pressed into the wood. He will go until neither of you can go anymore, and you've left tears and drool all over the surface.

[sensitivepluto]

Coffee & Kisses

Short & Sweet - Day 2: Second Chance

Satoru Gojo x Gn!Reader

[TW]: slight angst

@thewritingstar's prompt list - here's a link to the post!

You sat at the coffee shop the next day, anxiously waiting for him. Your hands held a cup of bittersweet liquid, trying to take in its warmth without ever actually putting it to your lips. Why was it that this meet up was making you so nervous?

The man you'd agreed to meet up with had left you devastated a couple of weeks ago. You'd crashed down in tears, trying to understand his sudden wishes to part with you. All he had to say is that it was for the best. You hadn't heard from again until those texts in the middle of the night.

Unbeknownst to you, the night he left had been one of the most agonizing experiences he'd ever had. He all but crawled to Suguru's and collapsed into him. You were his everything. And that's precisely why he left.

When your eyes caught the man in question, standing in the doorway of the coffee shop, your breath hitched. You forced yourself to stay calm and collected as he walked toward you, his lips turned into a determined frown.

"Satoru." You said, as if debating if it were actually him. He sat across from you, silent for a moment.

"Thank you for meeting me." He breathed. If it was any other situation you might have laughed at how uncharacteristically serious he was being.

"What did you want, Satoru?" You asked. Your heart was still bled dry from his harsh departure and being so close to him threatened to open the wound right back up. It was unbearable. "Just say what you need to say to me. Please."

"(Y/N), I wanted to apologize first of all." He sighed and rubbed his eyes from over his blindfold. "And I want..." he paused, "I want a second chance."

Now a laugh actually escaped your throat. Dry and unforgiving.

"A second chance?" You spat incredulously. "What the hell are you on about." Anger was the only way to keep you from bursting into tears right now. He knew it, of course he did. Satoru continued.

"Please, I didn't know what else to do. I thought it was the best way-"

"The best way for what, Satoru?" You interrupted him. "You broke my heart and left me in the dust. I can't believe you're coming to me like this. Texting me in the middle of the night, and now asking me for a second chance as if none of it ever happened. What could your goal have possibly been when you-"

"I just wanted to keep you safe!" He yelled over you, his lips now turned into a scowl. "Damn it, (Y/N). I thought if I was with you, you'd end up being a target. I thought they'd use you to get to me and all we've ever fought for would be for nothing because if I lost you..." His voice trailed off, looking away from you.

Your eyebrows pulled into furrowed confusion. "I don't understand, Satoru. You know I can handle myself."

"I know." His voice cracked. "I was just afraid you'd end up hurt because of me. Please, I tried to stay away. I thought maybe you'd be happier like this, but I can't..." He looked down at the table, trying to hide his face from you.

"Satoru..." You trailed off after seeing tears drip onto the table. It tugged at your heartstrings and the anger you felt crumbled. Seeing him so vulnerable in front of you made your chest ache. You got up and rounded the table, kneeling before him and looking up. With a hesitant hand, you wiped his tear stained cheek and pulled him gently to look at you. You used two fingers to delicately move his blindfold, finally seeing his icy blue eyes filled with longing and regret.

"Please." Satoru almost whimpered. "I can't be without you anymore." You weighed what that statement meant in your heart. You'd be a fool to say you didn't feel the same way. You nodded.

"One more chance, Satoru Gojo." The next string of events happened faster than you could perceive. In seemingly half of a second the man before you leapt to his feet, yanking you with him. His arms snaked around you and pulled you into him, nearly crushing you with his brute strength. He then swiftly buried his face in your neck.

"I won't let you down this time, I promise. I love you so much." He rambled into you, pleading that you would believe him. He held you tightly in his arms for quite some time, ignoring the stares from others in the coffee shop. He had you back and there was no way he was letting you go again.

[queenie-ofthe-void]

WIP Weekend WIP Snip Share!

Didn't have time to do any WIP games this weekend, but here's a bit I've written for my Steddie (-Jonathan) fic. Because I thought, "huh, you know what this steddie angst fic needs? A Stobin fight."

Enjoy (or... you know)

~~~

Context: As Robin finally convinced Steve to tell Eddie how he feels, they're shocked when they go back to the party and find Jonathan and Eddie making out on the couch.

“Everyone’s gone home,” Robin consoles, tone grating against his skin. He doesn’t need her pity, or anyone else’s. Besides, Steve wouldn’t even be in this mess if it wasn’t for her. Meddling in his love life has never worked out for Steve in the past, and he doesn’t understand why he convinced himself it would be different this time just because it was Robin.

Because why would anyone, let alone someone like Eddie, be interested in dating Steve Harrington, King of Assholes and Jocks. Compared to someone like Jonathan, someone who is so clearly a better match for Eddie, Steve brings nothing to the table.

He laments himself for believing anything she ever said about how Eddie apparently looks at him when his head’s turned, or how he always goes out of his way to make Steve laugh. None of it was real. It was all just lies. Bullshit.

“Then why are you still here?” It’s colder than he meant. Steve can already feel the crown sliding back into place. It’s sickening how much he misses it, an old, awful comfort he worked so hard to shed. And yet, it feels so fucking good to wear it again. 

If only it wasn’t Robin.

Heavy silence weighs against him. It’s not the response he expected. People always have a reaction when they meet King Steve– whether it’s disdain from the kids he tormented, pride from his asshole friends, or disappointment from people like Nancy. 

Steve still hasn’t turned around, his back to the door Robin had come through to find him. The inability to read her eats at his nerves. He denies the sharp urge to look at her– to consume and study every twitch of her mouth, every crinkle of her eyes– to know what she’s thinking right now. But that would mean giving her the same opportunity which is something Steve can absolutely not allow her.

The crown is a cold comfort if yet still a bit ill fitting. It’s been too long since Steve’s had to wield it as a sword and shield to fend off the people closest to him. He’s forgotten how. It wobbles on his head no matter how hard he clings to it. The heat of shame still stings behind his eyes. Steve hates it. So he clings to the anger, if he can’t cling to anything else.

He’s ripped from his seething by a firm hand on his shoulder. Robin’s next to him now, appearing almost out of nowhere. Steve wonders how long the silence lingered, if she said anything to him as he was stuck in the swirl of ruminating thoughts.

“Steve, look at me.”

Brushing her hand off his shoulder, Steve storms across the kitchen. She can’t look at him, she can’t see him. He can’t talk to her with all the shit clogging his throat. It’s all bubbling up inside him, the way it always does, thoughts and feelings he can’t name or pin down long enough to examine, not that he’d ever want to in the first place. Robin needs to leave before it bursts from him like a monster crawling through a hole in the ceiling, ready to hurt anyone in its path. Like a stupid, bigoted boy willing to throw a punch in an alleyway.

“Get the fuck out of my house.”

[darkintothedawn]

THE SIGNING || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Setting the scene for 'THE BOYFRIEND CODE'. Stiles sits you down and convinces you to sign his collection of rules. Little does he know you've already decided that they're not worth following.

Memo— Don't ask about the ending, I have no idea what that is. You can find the rest of the 'THE BOYFRIEND CODE' here.

Word Count — 3052

Warnings — Suggestive content. Some explicit language (mentions of being hard). Mostly fluff.

"Alright, this is ridiculous," you say, sitting cross-legged on Stiles' bed. There's an unreasonably long piece of parchment spread out before you and the quill you're holding is wobbling slightly from the early tremors of a laugh. The parchment looks like it's been stolen right from a centuries old book that was probably stored in an underground vault during medieval times. It's complete with singed edges that you can tell he's artificially put there if you look hard enough and a heading written in surprisingly elaborate, swooping calligraphy. The Boyfriend Code.

"Who even has parchment anymore? Did you have to order this online?"

Stiles momentarily stops his pacing, hands clasped behind his back like a general before he starts to pace again. His eyes are locked onto your with the intensity of a general surveying his troops but the tell-tale signs of a grin are present on his face. "It's authentic parchment, thank you very much. And the quill? Hand-dipped, by yours truly, in ink from an antique shop. Do you know how much time I spent on this?"

The laugh nearly forces its way out but you stop it with a deep breath, trying to deadpan a "too much" but the smile tugging at your lips fails that attempt. "And a quill, Stiles? Are we signing a medieval peace treaty? Is this a sort of marriage? Are you trying to join our houses, Stilinski? Is that what this is?"

Stiles freezes mid-step, his face immediately going red—not just a faint blush but almost full on Stilinski Red™, blooming all the way down his neck. His mouth closes and opens a few times in quick succession before he manages to sputter, "Wha—no! I mean, that's—ugh, you just—you've ruined my whole thing now!"

You just raise an eyebrow, biting back your laugh that's threatening to come back at full force this time. "Your whole thing? You mean this elaborate parchment contract slash wedding vows situation?"

"It is not a wedding vow!" He practically squawks, but he won't quite meet your eyes now, focusing instead on gesturing wildly at the parchment in an attempt to look less lost than he is. "This is serious business! This is about rules and… and structure and a code of conduct and—ugh, you're, you're. You're you!"

He pouts, is bottom lip sticking out just enough to make you want to laugh despite how much you know he'd hate it. But, the flush creeping down his neck and across his slightly visible collar is more than enough of a tell for you to figure out there's something else going on here. You know Stiles wee enough to realise he's definitely spiralling—not because you embarrassed him, no, he'd never spiral over that, it's because now the idea's firmly planted in is mind, and he's really thinking about it. Hard.

And based on the way he keeps fidgeting with his hands, flannel, waistband, and keeps darting glances at you, it's clear that he wants it. The thought of you eventually being… more… is more than enough to completely throw him off his game, though you know he won't admit it any time soon.

You're about to tease him further when he throws his arms up dramatically, clearly trying to recover. "This isn't just any treaty," he says, stomping back into his role like an actor reclaiming the stolen spotlight as he stars to pace again. You can tell he's trying to cope with his racing mind.

He gestures at the parchment again, finally deeming himself confident to talk. He speaks as if the parchment is a royal decree, "The treaty. This is the cornerstone of our relationship. The guide to happiness, the sacred rules of boyfriend-dom. You do want this to work, right? Want us to thrive?"

And just like that, his speech has solidified his role once again. Well, sort of. His ears are still far too red, and his voice cracked a little at "thrive," but he's clearly committed. You let him have his moment, clearing your throat as you quickly glance at it yourself.

"You're serious right now?

"As a werewolf attack," he replies, aiming for solemn and unbothered but it's clear your growing grin is ruining that.

You tilt your head up at him, flicking to the list as you glanced over a few of them. "And what happens if I refuse to sign this treaty?"

"You don't want to know," he says ominously, narrowing his eyes. "But, as a fair warning, let's just say it involves a dramatic monologue, a fake but emotional breakup, and me dramatically leaving you to live a life of isolation in the woods. Maybe Scott visits occasionally. And you. I wouldn't turn you away because I could never stay mad at you but you'd never see me again. I'm miserable, obviously. And so are you. No one wins."

You can't help it—the laugh finally breaks free, the quill clattering onto the bed. "You're unbelievable.

"I prefer 'visionary', 'genius' even." He picks up the quill, carefully placing it back into your hand with a lingering touch as he gently wraps your fingers around it. "Now sign. Or it's the woods for me." He leans a little closer at that, his character breaking for a moment, "You know I don't do well with the woods, I mean, especially not after the whole werewolf thing with Scott. What if you come to find me and I'm there all fangs and snarls."

You just place your hands on his chest and gently shove him away, rolling your eyes with an amused smile as you dip the quill in the inkwell. You scrawl your name at the bottom, trying your best to match his calligraphy. Stiles watches over you with a look of absolute triumph, as if he's not only conquered a small kingdom but also successfully convinced the kingdom's sweetheart into marriage.

"There," you say, dropping the quill back into his hands. "Happy?

"Thrilled," is all you get out of him before he's snatching the parchment away before you can change your mind. He holds it up to the light, inspecting it. "It's beautiful. Frame-worthy, honestly. Plated gold maybe."

"Do not frame that."

"Oh, it's going on the wall," he says, grinning at you with a look too giddy for you be annoyed any longer. "Right next to Roscoe's registration. I mean, they're equally important."

You groan, flopping back onto the bed and shuffling up to the headboard. You can't help the grin tugging on your lips as you watch him fawn over it like a kid meeting Santa for the first time. Stiles places the parchment onto is desk with a grace you rarely ever see from him. He's already flopping down beside you, propping himself up on an elbow and placing his chin on your stomach. "So," he says, his voice softer now. "You really signed it."

"Of course I signed it," you reply, rolling your eyes again but letting your hand rest against his cheek. "How could I not? You worked so hard on it."

"I'm glad you recognise my effort," he says, grinning. "You're stuck with me now, you know."

"Like I wasn't before, Stilinski."

He tilts his head to place a quick kiss on the thinnest part of your top, smile widening at the warmth of your skin through it. "This is why you're my favourite."

"Your favourite?" You echo, feigning offense. "Out of who? Scott? Your dad? Lydia?"

He laughs, moving up to lying beside you and pulling you closer. "Out of everyone. Always."

You lean into him, resting your head against his chest as he rambles on about how sacred the code is and how he'll be keeping not a laminated copy in his glove compartment of Roscoe. It's a family heirloom now.

The moment feels soft and domestic. Too soft.

Because as much as you adore him, as much as you love that stupid grin and his way-too-specific quirks, you know something he doesn't: you're going to break every single rule. Not out of malice. Not out of spite. But because it'll drive him insane in the funniest way possible.

And after that you can write another list, together. If Stiles wants a list then he can have a list, but your having your fun with it fist.

You're going to steal the last curly fry. You're going to give Scott better cuddles, you're going to hide sticky notes around his room that say things like, I'm watching you and Do you smell that? in the most ominous handwriting you can muster. You'll use him as a human shield, tickle him during road trips, and oh, the music in the Jeep is definitely going to be changed without a vote.

You glance at the parchment resting on his desk, your lips twitching into a sly smile as you mentally check off each rules. You're already planning on how to break them.

"Why are you smiling like that?" He asks you suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.

You look up at him with your best wide-eyed, innocent expression. "Like what?"

"Like you're plotting something. You signed the code. You're legally bound, you know. No take-backs."

"Legally bound, huh? Got it."

He narrows his eyes a little more, but the suspicions fades quickly. You tilt your head up, pulling him into a kiss before he can analyse your expression any further.

The kiss is soft at first, your lips brushing over his like a feather. He lets out a pleased sigh, his body relaxing under yours. But when you don't stop—when you deepen the kiss, your teeth catching his lower lip gently—he shivers, his hand instinctively tightening around your waist.

You tilt your head, angling the kiss more firmly now, letting him feel the heat of your mouth against his. Stiles groans low in his throat, his fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt as though he's trying to ground himself. "Okay," he breathes between kisses, his voice already shaky, "This—this is nice."

"Just nice?" You murmur, already bringing your lips to his again. Grazing, teasing.

"Very nice," he amends quickly, a slight whine slipping out of him as you pull back for just a moment too long. He tries to follow you, lifting his head towards you and bringing his hands up your sides, but you just place a hand on his chest and gently push him back onto the bed.

"Stay," you say softly, and the flush on his cheeks darkens.

His lips are slightly swollen now, his hair mussed from where your fingers have started threading through it. "You're so—" He cuts himself off with a breathy groan as you kiss him again, your tongue slipping past his lips just enough to tease him before pulling back again.

"Mm? You hum against is mouth, dragging your teeth lightly along his jaw before kissing your way back to his lips.

"You're killing me," he whispers, his voice a little desperate now. His hips shift under you, and you feel the unmistakable press of him against your thigh. His body's already reacting to you, hard and needy, but you pretend not to notice.

Instead, you keep the kisses slow and deliberate, your lips moving against his with infuriating precision. You tilt your hips just slightly, brushing against him enough to make him gasp, but not enough to give him what he clearly wants. Needs.

"God," he groans, his hands sliding up under your shirt, his fingers warm against your skin. "You're—you're teasing me on purpose. "

"Am I?" You ask innocently, punctuating the question with a kiss to the corner of his mouth followed by another to his nose.

"Yes," he whimpers, his voice cracking slightly. "You are, and it's—holy—" He cuts himself off again when your lips move to his neck, your teeth scraping gently over the sensitive skin there. His breathing picks up, uneven now, and he grips your hips tightly.

"Poor Stiles," you murmur against his neck, your voice low and teasing. "You're so sensitive," you continue against his skin, enamoured by the way his hair rises at your warm breath.

"Stop," he whines, though the way he tilts his head back to give you better access completely contradicts him. "Stop teasing me."

You pull back slightly to look at him, and the sight is not only enough to make your breath hitch but for the familiar warmth of arousal to start spreading through your skin. His cheeks are flushed, his lips parted and kiss-bruised, his eyes dark and glassy as they lock onto yours. He looks wrecked already, and you've barely done anything.

"Please," he whispers, his voice low and raw. "Please, I—"

You cut him off with, yet again, another kiss, this one deeper and hungrier, fuelled by the heat tingling through you and the pure need on his face, swallowing his next whine. He responds instantly, his hands sliding up your back, one resting on your nape and the other across your back to your shoulder. He's pulling you closer as his hips start to buck against you.

But just as he starts to lose himself in the kiss, you pull back again, leaving him panting and breathless beneath you. "What—why?" He stammers, looking up at you like you've committed an actual, heinous, crime.

"Because I can," you reply with a grin, leaning down to press one last teasing kiss to his lips.

His head falls back against the pillow with a frustrated groan. "You're evil," he says, his voice thick with want and need.

You smile, brushing is hair back from his forehead as you lean down to whisper against his ear, "You love me anyway."

"Unfortunately," he breathes, his voice laced with exasperation and desire, "Yes. God help me, yes."

You laugh softly, pressing another teasing kiss to his lips before settling against him, your head finding it's familiar spot on his chest. His heart is racing beneath your ear, and his arms wrap around you instinctively, holding you close. The steady beat of his heat lulling you into a sense of complacency and comfort.

He huffs a soft sigh, still squirming slightly beneath you as he tries to calm down. "This is a cruel and unusual punishment, you know."

"Consider it a preview,," you tease, smirking up at him as you trail your fingers lazily over his chest and biceps.

"A preview?" He repeats, his voice hopefully and layered with emotion.

"Maybe. If you're good."

Stiles groans again, burying his face in your hair. "You're the worst."

You smile, pressing a gentle kiss to his collarbone. "And yet, here you are."

"Yeah," he mutters, his voice softening. "Here I am."

He groans dramatically, arms tightening around your waist. He's still hard against you, his hips shifting involuntarily, and the faint whimper that escapes his lips makes you bite back a laugh.

"You know," you begin, trying to keep a straight face as you look up at him, "If it's really that bad, you could always go handle it by yourself. I wouldn't mind waiting."

His head snaps downward, just barely missing an attack on your head by his chin. His eyes are wide and scandalised, though his lips twitch like he's trying not laugh himself. "Excuse me?"

"I'm serious," you tease, shrugging as though it's the most reasonable suggestion in the world. "I means, if you're that desperate—"

"I am not—" He stops himself, flushing even deeper, his hands leaving you to cover his face. "Oh my God, you're the worst. You know that right?"

You laugh softly, moving to gently pry his hands away from his face. "What? I'm just saying, if you really can't—"

"I can," he cuts in quickly, his voice rising in pitch. Then, softer, "I can. I'm fine."

You tilt your head, pretending to consider. "You sure? I mean, you're looking pretty—"

"Stop," he groans, his voice muffled as he buries his face into your hair. But even as he says it, his hands intertwine with yours, holding you tight.

For a moment it's quiet, just the sound of his slightly unsteady breathing and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. Then, in a much softer voice, he murmurs, "I wouldn't. Not without you anyway."

You blink, pulling back just enough to look at him. His cheeks are still red, but his eyes are soft and sincere, locking onto yours with a kind of vulnerable intensity that makes your heart stutter.

"Stiles…"

“I mean it,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not saying it’s not tempting—because, oh my God, you have no idea—but I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Not when…” He swallows hard, his eyes darting away before he looks back at you. “Not when it’s you. You’re kind of… it for me.”

For a moment, you’re stunned into silence. It’s not the first time he’s said something so achingly sweet, but the weight of his words settles over you like a warm blanket.

And then, slowly, you realise something that makes your cheeks heat.

“…You too?” you ask, your voice quiet.

“What?” he says, his brow furrowing slightly.

You bite your lip, looking away for a moment before meeting his gaze again. “You’re not the only one. I—whenever I…” You clear your throat, your voice dropping slightly. “It’s always been you, ever since we got together. It’s only been you.”

His eyes widen, his lips parting slightly like he’s about to say something, but no words come out. Instead, he stares at you like you’ve just told him the most important secret in the universe.

“Stiles?”

“I—yeah,” he breathes, his voice shaky as a slow, crooked smile spreads across his face. “Yeah, okay, this is… Wow.”

“Wow?” you echo, laughing softly despite the heat in your cheeks.

“Yeah,” he says again, pulling you closer until your foreheads are pressed together. His voice drops to a whisper, soft and reverent. “We’re a mess, huh?”

“Completely,” you agree, your own smile tugging at your lips.

But it’s not a bad thing—not even close. Because even in the teasing, in the heated moments and the chaos you bring into each other’s lives, there’s this unshakable certainty between you.

You’re his. And he’s yours. In every possible way.

[bread-that-draws]

Sorry not to be insane about fictional characters again but like. Nimona’s big “monster” scene. How she realizes nothing has changed. How she discovers her “allies” were willing to turn on her the moment there was a reason to do so. How her roar is an anguished scream. How something as simple as a kids commercial about slaying monsters, something nobody else even bats an eye at, causes so much pain. How what she turns into is so unlike her usual shifting. How the director was ready to destroy innocent people to get rid of her. How it didn’t matter to the director if innocent people got hurt just to get rid of this “threat”. How the director, just as capable as hurting people, isn’t the one demonized. How this moment has been quietly building up the whole movie, even though she brushes it off, even though she pretends not to care (how she seeks out a supposed murderer because he may understand her, how an arrow to the leg isn’t a big deal to her, how she plays up the “monster” stereotype but hates being called one, how her first breaking point is a little girl showing the same generational hate that Gloreth showed, how she always explained what she was as Nimona). How done with all of it she is. How she gives up. “I see you”.

How Nimona is such a fucking queer story that it makes me explode

[bayetea]

I don't like the judo flip in moa as much as the next guy but in my eyes it's largely the result of rick not taking female violence half as seriously as male violence (a result of viewing women as weaker and inferior to men such that their acts of violence don't need to be taken as seriously) and not so much anything about annabeth herself. like I do genuinely feel that annabeth is a complex heroine and definitely one of the better ones in the realm of ya action-adventure fiction produced in the past 25 years but she is still a girl being written by a man and all I'm saying is that her writing clearly reflects that sometimes (more in tags)

[snekdood]

bitches prolly out here psychoanalyzing my old art on behalf of my abuser to cushion their belief that im a Horrible Person but then dont see the irony when I point out the shitty things my abuser has drawn and how I see it as clear evidence of their mindset and beliefs (of what's okay to do and how to treat people) descending and pairing that along with everything else they've done and it paints a clear picture of how this person got to the point of thinking it was okay to abuse me the way they did and then the people looking for reasons to hate me through my art will act like "they're just drawings !!!" about their art. which one is it. does someones art say something about them or not? or does it only say something about them if you hate them?