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hamiltonfc · 1 day ago

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.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆⭒˚｡⋆ MOTH TO A FLAME; JUDE BELLINGHAM (Chapter One)

➤ Summary: Kaia tells Jude about her new beau, throwing yet another spanner in the works of their already complicated relationship.

➤ Pairing: Jude Bellingham x F!OC

➤ Warnings: Swearing, Food mention.

➤ Discussion tag: #my works: moth to a flame (if you ever have any questions about the story, release schedule, etc. my inbox is always open.)

➤ Word Count: 2,254

TAGLIST | SERIES PLAYLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST

Kaia’s POV

The dial tone wasn’t unfamiliar when it came to my relationship with Jude. Over the past few years, phone calls between us have been the main way of communicating with my best friend. With him away in either Germany or Spain, or with myself at my home in Surrey, or away on a film set somewhere, phone calls or long text threads were the best I could get.

But this call was different. Jude was finally back home in England. Not for long, just for a week or so during the winter break in the Spanish season. It just so happened that I had made the journey up from Surrey to be home with my family for Christmas, so it was only a matter of time before I picked up my phone, ready to call him.

“Hello?” I heard at the other end of the line when Jude picked up. “Who’s this? The number kinda looked like this girl who last spoke to me about three weeks ago, but, you know, I could be mistaken.”

“Jude,” I say, deadpan. “I swear to God, the day you answer a phone call in a somewhat normal way, that’s when I’ll know the aliens have invaded.”

“I find offence in the fact that’s not the first time you’ve referred to aliens when talking about me,” his smirk was obvious through the way he spoke, it’s not like I’d never heard him speak that way before. “Anyway, stranger, what’s up? Miss my pretty face?”

“Always. But no, I need you to come over,” I stand up from where I was lying on my bed and walk over to my desk, taking a seat on the chair in front of it.

“You need me to, huh? You should’ve said, Baby, I’d have been over already.”

“Jesus,” I pinch the bridge of my nose, slumping further back into the chair in feigned annoyance.

“My name’s Jude, actually, but close enough.”

“Please, Jude. I need to tell you something,” I twist my body, swinging the desk chair side to side a little, nerves creeping up to my heart, which is pounding in my chest.

“God, I love it when you beg,” Jude whispers, voice a little more serious than it had been before. “Sorry, uhm, I’ll be over in ten. See you soon, Darling.”

****

*knock knock knock*

“FBI, open up!” Jude yells, in the worst American accent I might’ve ever heard (and I’ve been an actor my whole life so I’ve heard some terrible ones), from the other side of my door. He swings the door open, and his beaming face is the first thing I see when he’s revealed.

I furrow my brows, staring at him with a disappointed look on my face for a few seconds. “Remind me, Jude, why the fuck are we friends?”

Jude places his hand against his chest, mouth open in fake, way too dramatic, offence. “Because we love each other, duh? Did you like it, though? It’s like that show you like, Criminal Brains or whatever it’s called.” He throws himself onto the bed beside me, landing on his stomach, before pushing up onto his forearms, leaning in towards me with only one thing on his mind.

“No,” I whisper, my hand gently placed on his collarbone as I push him back. “I need to talk to you first.”

“Oh,” Jude says with a nod. He grabs one of the many pillows on my bed and tucks it under his head, getting into a more comfortable position so he can look at me properly. Before Jude speaks, I see a look pass across his face, one that I can read instantly. “It’s serious enough that you don’t want to kiss me? Okay,” he drags out the vowels, chocolate brown eyes landing on mine, and at that moment I can do nothing but stare into them.

My eyes flutter away from his, too scared to look at him during what I’m about to tell him, the weight of his gaze upon me enough to knock my mind off balance.

“We can’t do this anymore,” I say softly, lips barely moving, but they fall loud and clear upon Jude’s ears.

“We can’t do what anymore?” He knows. I knew he’d know what I would tell him when I refused to kiss him. But that’s what Jude is like, he is always going to give me space to tell him in my own time. He knows that’s how I want this to go.

“Whatever we’ve been doing for the past however many years,” it’s then when I look at him, the image of his face etched into my brain of what I imagined he looked like in the moment, and I wasn’t wrong.

Jude shakes his head, breaking eye contact, his jaw tight, before looking right back at me. “Why?”

“I have a boyfriend.” Silence washes over the room. Only sounds of our breathing can be heard and the ruffling of the bedding when I shift my body towards Jude. “We, uhm, we met on set a few months back and we hit it off, so… yeah. We’re now together.”

I give Jude a tight-lipped smile. He nods slowly in response, eyes wandering around my room. “I’m happy for you.” There it is. Four simple words, but they’re exactly what I expected him to say. He is so predictable.

“So,” Jude slaps his thighs as he moves to sit up, almost falling backwards due to the lack of support from the mattress underneath him, but his strong core just about manages to complete the manoeuvre. “What’s your mom cooking?”

“A roast, but ab-”

“A roast? Oh, get in, I fucking love your mom’s roasts. Don’t tell my mom but, if I’m being completely honest, I prefer your mom’s Yorkshire puddings,” he smiles, but I can tell in the way he’s moving, his body language, the way his eyes can’t hold contact with mine for longer than three seconds, that he’s trying to distract himself from everything that’s going through his mind. “Mine does do better roast potatoes, though. They’re crispier.”

“Jude,” I say sharply, placing a hand on his thigh in an attempt to bring him back to reality a little, as I stare at his heaving chest. “Slow the fuck down, yeah?” My stare is wide and long as my hand moves up and down his thigh, the only thing separating our skin are his grey sweatpants. “Take a breath, next time.”

He nods, his hand instinctually moving to grasp mine, giving it a gentle squeeze before letting it go, knowing that if he held on any longer he wouldn’t want to let go at all. “Quick question,” his eyes meet mine. “Why are we having a roast when you’re coming round mine for Christmas dinner in three days?”

I shrug. “Think of it as a pre-roast. You know how my mum gets when she’s not hosting, she can’t sit still to save her life, the roast dinner is just a product of that.”

“Cool,” Jude nods. “Two roast dinners in a week is a lot better than all the nutritional shit I have to eat throughout the season, anyway.”

I let out a quiet laugh, pulling my hand out from underneath his. “Anyway,” I take a deep breath. “As I was trying to say, about the dinner, Noah, my boyfriend, is coming over to eat with us.”

“Okay,” Jude’s voice fades out as he says, a confused look on his face.

“I mean,” I tell him. “It’s up to you, you can stay and meet him if you want, I don’t mind. Like I understand if you don’t want to, but, like I said, it’s completely up to you.”

Jude scoffs. “And like I said, I want that roast dinner. Of course, I’m staying.”

“Right then, I get up from my bed, stretching and letting out a yawn, catching Jude looking at the sliver of my belly that appears when I raise my hands over my head. “We best get downstairs and set the table, because we both know that sister of mine won’t have done it.”

****

“You do know you have legs, right?” I say to my fifteen-year-old sister, Olivia, as soon as I enter the dining room only to find that the table hadn’t already been set like I had previously hoped.

My sister only lets out a grunt and shrugs at my words.

“You alright, Liv?” Jude grabs the coasters, placing one in front of each chair, making sure to count one extra than usual for Noah.

Olivia gives Jude the same grunt as the one that she gave me.

“Remember when we were like that?” I nudge Jude with my elbow, setting up everyone’s cutlery.

“What, when we hated everyone and everything that wasn’t on our phones? Yeah, that was rough,” a reminiscent look passes across Jude’s face before I slap him in the tummy with the placemats.

“Come on, slacker, you going to put them down before I whack you round the head with them, or what?” I giggle, making my way into the kitchen to see if my mum needs any help.

I see Jude smile at me over my shoulder as he watches me walk away. “You alright, Mum? Need help with anything?”

“No, I’m alright, thanks, Love. You go and sit down, I’ll bring the food through in a bit,” she flashes a smile at me before opening the oven up, and checking on the beef and potatoes.

I turn on my heel, walking back into the dining room when my little brother appears at the doorway. “Judey!” he yells as soon as he spots my best friend.

My youngest sibling, Leo, runs at Jude, causing him to stop everything he’s doing before he leans down to pick up the little boy.

“Hello, little man, how are you doing?” Jude squeezes him as tight as he can. In the time that Jude and Leo had known each other, which was the entirety of Leo’s seven years on the planet, they had built up an amazing relationship. Leo considered Jude to be one of his best friends and even went as far as saying that Jude loved him more than me. If he only knew.

“I’m not too good,” I watch as Leo pouts up at Jude after he’s placed him back on the ground.

“Why not, Kid?” Jude’s brows furrow, continuing his work setting the table while also giving the small boy as much attention as he can.

“I’ve been doing my homework all day because Mummy said I had to and if I didn’t I wouldn’t be able to play Roblox later.”

“Well, we can’t be having that, can we?” Jude smiles when Leo shakes his head and lets out a heavy sigh. “So, did you get it all done?”

“I did,” Leo nods, a proud smile on his face.

“Good kid,” Jude ruffles his hair before he spots me, leaning against the doorframe, watching their interaction.

“Go and take a seat, Leo,” soft thuds against the floor can be heard as he runs to his chair next to his older sister. “Mum says dinner will be ready soon.”

I sit down in my usual spot, with Jude going to take the seat right next to me before changing his mind and walking around the table to sit in the seat directly across from me instead.

Jude and I engage in barely thirty seconds of conversation before it’s broken up by the sound of the doorbell ringing. I feel my expression change immediately, to one full of nerves. Jude notices that immediately, watching me in anticipation as I get up from my seat.

“That’ll be him,” I say, leaving no room for Jude to reply because I’m out of the room in seconds, making my way towards the door.

“Hey, Babe,” Noah says in his thick American accent as soon as I open the door.

I move to the side, signalling for him to come in. “Hi,” I say, my words a lot more muted than the bubbly voice that he’s used to.

Noah shrugs his coat off as he steps inside and I grab it from him, turning to hang it on one of the hooks beside the door. He leans down, pressing a quick kiss on my lips. “You okay?” His brows furrow together as he analyses my face.

“Yeah,” I nod, smiling up at him. “There’s someone here I’d like you to meet,” I tell him, leading him into the dining room after about a minute of being gone.

As soon as Noah and I enter the room, I notice Jude look Noah up and down the moment his eyes land on him. He takes in his outfit, his tanned skin and his blonde hair. I can practically see the moment where he acknowledges that he’s not my type, no that that matters, he doesn’t know my type to be anything other than himself.

“Noah,” I turn to him, a slight smile on my face. “You’ve already met my brother and sister,” I can feel Jude watching me as I point at the kids beside him. I can also see his face change slightly, most likely to show his disdain at the fact that I let Noah into my house before ever telling him about our relationship. “And this,” My gaze falls upon Jude, prompting Noah to look at him for the first time this evening. “Is Jude. My best friend.”

Taglist: @eunoiasgoal @4evermyownmuse

If you would like to support my work make sure to like and reblog this post, and if you're able, consider buying me a pastry! (I also take writing commissions if anyone would like one).

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham angst #jude bellingham fanfic #jb5 #jude bellingham x oc #jude victor william bellingham #hamiltonfc.writes #my works: moth to a flame

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frogsinflannel · 1 day ago

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call me by my real name (call me baby) 9-1-1: bucktommy | rated T | 874 words | prompt: non-sexual intimacy

written for @bucktommyfluffebruary - read below or at ao3

♡ ♡ ♡

"Hey. Can I ask a favor?" Buck looked up from where he'd been meal-prepping, two neat lines of clear glass containers sitting on the counter in front of him. Tommy's brows raised and a bemused smile curled up his mouth. "You doing lunch for us? What's on the menu this week?"

"Rainbow salad," Buck said, beaming. He pointed to the piles of chopped vegetables scattered on the two cutting boards. "We've got, uh, bell pepper for red and yellow. Carrots. Cucumbers, because I thought, uh, three colors of bell pepper was too much. Or edamame, for green. I probably have some other options, too, if you want something else. And then we've got some riced purple cauliflower, and some strips of grilled chicken."

"Evan." Buck flushed. No one else said his name like that, with the same loose-weave softness, cool and easy and comfortable. Tommy grinned and walked over to him. He pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, baby," he said, speaking against the skin.

His voice was warm and his mouth was a little damp and Buck's vibrating, wanting-- Well. Just wanting. Anything from Tommy he could get. "You're welcome," he breathed.

"So." Tommy leans against the counter, feet crossed at the ankle. He holds up the wrist with the brace on it. "About that favor?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course. What did you need?"

Tommy grimaced and then gestured with his left hand to the bottom half of his face. "I could probably shave myself even with the brace," he said. "But I thought maybe I'd ask you to do it." His expression changed, smile sly and his eyes dark, and Buck felt a little curl of heat in his gut. "I'm sure you wouldn't mind getting all close and personal, huh? Lathering me up. Bet you have a steady hand." Tommy tilted his head because he's a tease and a flirt - and kind of an asshole, too, because he knew what he's doing to Buck. Which might be a bad thing, if Buck didn't like it so goddamn much.

"I can... Uh, I can help, yeah." He swallowed. "Of course."

Tommy grinned and bumped his shoulder with his good hand. "Perfect. Let's get these lunches put together and then get rid of this shitty almost-beard."

They finished the meal-prep for the week and then Buck followed Tommy into the bathroom. He pulled out a nice safety razor and some moisturizing shaving cream, then leant back against the skin. "I'm all yours," he murmured.

"S-so I should..." Tommy's posture was relaxed, his whole big body so at ease. He tilted his chin up and Buck sketched out the strong, lovely line of his throat. His mouth went dry. "The shaving cream?"

Tommy's eyes closed and his mouth curved up warm and crooked and fond. "Yes," he said. "You should the shaving cream."

"Don't tease me," Buck said, but he didn't really mean it. He grabbed the shaving cream and squeezed out a dollop into his hand. Tommy's waiting, and it seemed silly to ask for permission, so. He reached out and spread it smoothly over Tommy's skin.

"Ahh," Tommy said. His lips parted and Buck's gaze was drawn to the line of his open mouth. "Thank you, baby. That feels nice."

Buck cleared his throat. It was almost harder to talk to Tommy like this, with his eyes gently closed and the line of his neck long and bare. “Well?” Tommy’s eyes fluttered under thin lids and he wore a smirk, teasing and still so, so fond. “Am I getting shaved or aren’t I?” “Sorry,” Buck said. “I was just… uh. Just thinking?” “Mmm.” Buck’s hand tightened in the razor and his body swayed forward, leaning into Tommy’s. He was pulled, constantly, like a magnetic in his chest with Tommy as the opposite pole. How did he yearn so much for something, he wondered - something right here. Something he already had. One eye popped open. “Thinking about what?”

“Ha.” He looked down, let out a breath. “It’s… Well. I-I like it. That’s what I was thinking. I like it when you say, uh. When you call me baby.” Tommy’s smirk shifted into something softer. One big hand landed on Buck’s waist and then slid to the small of his back, tugging him forward. “Yeah? You like it?” He pressed a kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth. Then he leaned closer, nuzzling into the soft skin under Buck’s ear. “Good. Because that’s what you are, isn’t it?” His voice was whisper soft, a warmth ghosting across Buck’s neck. “Tell me, Evan. Tell me what you are.” He groaned, one hand gripping Tommy’s bicep as the other came up to cup the back of his head. His head tilted back and his got one glimpse of the soft yellow light of his bathroom ceiling as his eyes drifted closed. Tommy’s mouth pressed kisses onto him like promises, moving across his throat from one side to the other. He’d remember. He’d wear it like a necklace, the jeweled presses of Tommy’s rough, perfect mouth. “I am,” he said, voice tight. It hurt to speak, the words were so heavy. It felt like a relief to finally get them out. “I’m your baby.”

♡ ♡ ♡

(I wrote half of this in present tense before I realized that I'd started in past. I think I got it all fixed and consistent !!! Also I think Buck would have a dressing or sauce for their rainbow salads but I forget to mention it! It haunts me!)

#my fic #bucktommy #911 fic #fluffebruary

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ilysungho · 2 days ago

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hihi! its messy-sex-lover-jaehyun anon returning to your ask box bc the comment you made about him liking tit fucking made me feel crazy...i feel like he's a big boobs guy anyways and this would just be one of his favourite things for sure!

if i can share a lil specifc scenario: thinking harddd about wearing an outfit around him that shows off your cleavage nicely and seeing him struggle to hold back or focus on anything else. and once he's got you alone later, he'd be so over-eager and desperate to get his hands and mouth on them he'd pin you down with more strength than he usually uses and almost tear your top pulling it off. probably gets your tits covered in drool within minutes from a mix of messy licks, sloppy kisses and direclty spitting on them. and of course that only makes it even easier for him to slide his dripping cock between them and rut against you till he's making an even bigger mess😵‍💫

omg… anon this is already perfect as it is, idk what more to add to make this better!! but i did think of like a setting! i hope this is good 😭

in a formal event, you’d be wearing a beautiful dress that perfectly accentuates your body in all the right places. jaehyun would really be trying so hard not to ogle at you, especially your tits that are pushed up and together while showing so much cleavage. he’d be going insane even, thinking about what to do, whether he should just take you to the bathroom and be risky, or wait until the event is over. and on the way back home, his hand’s would be all over your thighs… he’d be telling you how gorgeous you looked and how you stole his breath. and as soon as you reach where you’re staying, he’d be so impatient, just pushing you against the entryway wall and hungrily kissing you like an animal. the sweet jaehyun from the event and car ride disappeared the instant he’d got you alone.

with how your dress showed so much cleavage, he wouldn’t even want to remove it from you yet. he’s obsessed with anything to do with your tits so naturally he’s kissing and marking them all over, saying how “you should’ve gone out like this, make sure everyone knows you’re my slut.” he’d be so mean and possessive, making him so hot as he pulls the dress just past your boobs so they’re fully out for him. he’d barely take you into the house, laying you down on the floor as he takes out his length. he’s so terribly hard that it hurts, yet he’s so obsessed with your tits that he doesn’t want his mouth away from them for even a second. he’d be drooling while sucking your tits, and you’d be giving him a handjob to try and help. you’d even pull him between your tits to suffocate him and he’d reach straight to heaven at that. gobs of spit would be spat in the middle of your chest as he tells you to take what he gives like a good girl, getting up to finally fuck your boobs like he had been envisioning the whole time.

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28harryssunflower · 13 hours ago

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Broken paradise

The Italian coastline stretched endlessly before you, the deep blue sea kissing the golden sand beneath the balcony of your villa. The warm breeze carried the scent of salt and citrus, and the soft sound of waves filled the quiet space between you and Harry.

Everything was supposed to be perfect.

And for the first few days, it was. Mornings tangled in the silk sheets of his bed, afternoons spent floating in the infinity pool with glasses of white wine, evenings filled with laughter and whispered confessions over candlelit dinners. Harry had made sure of it - meticulously planning every moment, every detail, down to the playlist that played softly through the villa’s speakers. It was your own little world, untouched by reality.

Until now.

Now, you were standing on opposite sides of the bedroom, voices raised, hearts pounding - not from passion, but from frustration.

Harry scoffed, running a hand through his curls. “You can’t seriously be mad about this.”

Your arms crossed tightly over your chest. “I’m not mad… I’m just tired of you making me feel like I’m being ridiculous every time I bring something up.”

His green eyes flashed with exasperation. “Because you are being ridiculous!”

Your stomach twisted. “Wow. Thanks for that.”

Harry exhaled sharply. “That’s not what I meant. But really? You’re upset because I said you overpacked? It was a joke.”

You let out a humorless laugh. “It wasn’t just that, Harry. It was the way you said it - like you were rolling your eyes at me, like I was being annoying. And it’s not the first time.”

His jaw tensed. “So now I’m not even allowed to joke with my wife?”

“Not when it makes me feel like an idiot!”

Silence fell between you, thick and suffocating. The golden light from the setting sun spilled into the room, casting long shadows across the marble floor. Somewhere outside, the waves kept crashing, oblivious to the storm brewing inside.

Harry let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You know, I don’t know why we even bothered with this honeymoon if we were just going to spend the whole time fighting.”

Your breath caught in your throat. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he snapped. “This was supposed to be perfect. I planned everything to be perfect. And yet, here we are, arguing over nothing.”

Your hands balled into fists. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you bit out. “Did you expect us to just exist in some fantasy where we never have problems?”

“No, I just didn’t think we’d be like this. Not now, not so soon.”

His words stung.

Your voice was quieter when you asked, “So soon?”

He hesitated, rubbing his jaw, his frustration evident. “We just got married,” he muttered. “And we’re already fighting like this. It makes me wonder if we’re going to be doing this for the rest of our lives.”

The air in the room shifted.

Something in your chest ached, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out. “Well, if you already regret it, maybe we should just get a divorce now and save ourselves the trouble.”

The second the words left your mouth, you wished you could take them back.

Harry’s entire body stiffened. His face paled, the anger in his eyes flickering into something else - something shattered.

“What?” His voice was barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling sick. “Harry, I didn’t mean-“

But it was too late.

His expression darkened, hurt flashing across his features before he masked it with more anger. “Right,” he said coldly, nodding as if he finally understood something. “So that’s where we are now? One fight, and you’re already throwing divorce in my face?”

“That’s not what I meant!” you said desperately. “I was just frustrated!”

“Frustrated?” he repeated bitterly. “Frustrated enough to throw away everything we just promised each other?” He let out a dry laugh, stepping back like he couldn’t stand to be near you. “Unbelievable.”

Your throat tightened. “Harry-“

“Don’t.” His voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a blade. “You don’t just say things like that. You don’t throw divorce at me like it’s nothing.”

Guilt twisted inside you. You had said it to hurt him, to make a point, but you hadn’t expected it to cut this deep.

“I don’t want that,” you said, your voice trembling now. “I don’t want anything but you.”

His jaw tensed, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. For a moment, you thought he was going to turn away, to walk out.

But then, his shoulders sagged, and his face softened - just barely. He dragged a hand down his face, letting out a slow breath before looking at you again.

“I don’t either,” he murmured. “But you can’t say things like that. Not when I mean forever with you.”

The fight wasn’t gone, but the anger had faded, replaced by something more fragile. More raw.

You hesitated before stepping closer, reaching for his hand. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean it. I was just upset, and I wanted to hurt you the way I was hurting.”

His fingers tightened around yours, warm and steady. “I know,” he said softly. “But I hate fighting with you. And I hate even thinking about losing you.”

Tears burned at the back of your eyes. “You’re not going to lose me,” you promised. “I love you. Even when we fight. Even when we’re both being idiots.”

That finally brought a small, tired smile to his lips. He sighed, pulling you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “I love you too,” he murmured. “Even when you overpack.“

You groaned, but there was no bite behind it. “Too soon, Styles.”

His laughter rumbled against your skin, and just like that, the tension eased.

The honeymoon wasn’t perfect.

But love wasn’t about perfect. It was about choosing each other - even when it was hard. Even when it hurt.

#harry styles #one direction #short story #headcanon #one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

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witchygagirlwrites · 22 hours ago

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Broken Bonds-Part 32

Greg "Mouse" Gerwitz x Reader, Jay Halstead x Hailey Upton, Coparenting Jay Halstead x Reader

Mouse asks you a question that is years in the making

Warnings: just a smidgen of sex 🤷‍♀️

You groaned as you rolled over, the sound of your alarm blaring through the room. Mouse reached over you, slapping the button on top of it before you had to move. “Thank you” you mumbled and he laughed lightly, lips finding the bend of your neck “Doesn’t mean you can go back to sleep love. Gotta take Addy to daycare, we both have work. You and Hailey both have doctor’s appointments this afternoon”

You looked over your shoulder at him and he grinned before you said “You know you’re really sexy to be a daily planner” he shook his head “I should be used to what comes out of your mouth by now” you nodded “You really should” he laughed and leaned closer to brush his lips against yours in a gentle kiss “I love you” he whispered against your mouth “I love you too” you replied, snuggling back into his arms. One good thing had come out of the last few months, you had finally gotten back used to waking up in his arms every morning and falling asleep in his arms every night again. For so long you thought you wouldn’t get that again. At least the doctor’s appointment you and Hailey had should be the two of you receiving your walking papers. You were already back on full duty at work, Nat was just wanting to be one hundred percent certain everything had healed like it should so you both had full body scans scheduled.

“Jay and Hailey have little Miss tonight” you reminded him and he nodded “I know. Kind of help with the scheduling too there sweetheart” you grinned “I apologize Mou. I forget” he laughed “Well don’t next time. You know Mou and daddy got everything down pretty well actually” he shook your head with a laugh “I have to admit you two are actually pretty good at the whole co parenting thing too, for you to technically just be her mom’s boyfriend” he scrunched his nose up “That word feels like it falls short for us” “What? Boyfriend?” you asked and he nodded “We’ve been through a lot more than most people that call each other boyfriend and girlfriend don’t you think?” you shrugged “Guess so but without us being married there isn’t really any other titles there baby”

Before either of you could say anything you could hear Addy’s voice and instead of calling for just Mommy she’d gotten in the habit of calling for Mommy and Mou once she caught onto the fact that Mommy still got her dressed and ready but for a few weeks there Mou was the one picking her up for Mommy. “Sounds like the boss is up” you said and he laughed “You sound like Kenny now love” and tossed the blanket off you both, grabbing the sweatpants he kept next to the bed to throw on over his boxers as you swung your legs off the bed and walked around it to meet him at the foot of the bed.

You had to laugh at the reminder that Mouse’s team held your daughter in such high regards and to think at first you’d been nervous about her meeting them. Now? She had intelligence and a marshal team wrapped around her little finger, along with fifty one and half of med. He cut his eyes at you and nodded towards the door “Come on Miss Kidd. Miss Halstead is gonna get grumpy if she has to wait”

_____________________

Addy was standing up in her crib and grinning when you two walked into her room “Mou! Pick me up!” you laughed “Mommy can pick you up again baby” she shook her head “Mou can” you cut your eyes at him when he was leaning against the doorway, a grin on his face “Go ahead then Mou” he winked at you and walked over to the crib to scoop her up. “Good morning sweet girl” it wouldn’t be long before she’d need a toddler bed.

She wrapped her arms around his neck “Mornin Mou. Love you” you could see the grin before it ever even split his face “I love you too Ads, so much” you knew he meant it too, even before he got home, before you and him found your way back together he never wished ill towards her or your pregnancy. She’d owned a piece of his heart from the start it seemed too, maybe because of how much he loved you and how much Jay meant to him, regardless of the circumstances.

“Well does Mommy get any love or is she chopped liver?” you asked and Mouse grinned at Addy “Uh oh. Mommy needs love. Kiss attack?” she giggled and nodded “Kiss attack” Mouse grabbed your arm and pulled you towards them, both of them kissing everywhere on your face and head they could reach while you playfully tried to get away laughing the entire time.

“Ok ok. I’m loved! I’m loved” you laughed and Mouse stepped back, Addy dangling from his neck, grinning at you. “You sure love?” he asked and you nodded “I’m sure. Can I get her dressed now?” he shrugged “Sure” and passed her over “I’ll start coffee and get her breakfast” “Waffles?” she asked and he laughed “I’ll see what we got” before walking out of the room. She had him wrapped around her little finger just as much as she had Jay wrapped around her little finger. “Mou is silly” you told her and she laughed “I love Mou” you grinned “I do too, he’s still silly” she laughed and nodded “He is”

After you dropped Addy off at daycare you headed into work. Mouse followed you to the daycare at Addy’s request because “Her friends needed to meet Mou” he had thoroughly loved that.

When you got in Trudy cut her eyes up when you walked by the front desk “Don’t you have a doctor’s appointment today?” you shrugged “After lunch” she nodded “Ok, just making sure” you grinned “Don’t worry believe it or not I have been a decent patient. You can ask Nat”

You headed for the stairs, stopping at the palm scanner before heading up. As soon as you got to the top of the stairs you cut your eyes at the board and saw it was empty, that was good at least. It meant so far no case had come in yet. Of course the day was still in its infancy so that wasn’t saying a lot.

__________________

“My wife!” you cut your eyes over at Hailey about the time she tossed a box at you. You caught it and raised an eyebrow “What’s this?” “Open it” she told you so you nodded “Let me put my bag down” You sat your bag, jacket and coffee down on your desk then opened the box. It was a leather bracelet cuff that had yours and her badge numbers on it. You looked up at her and she held up her right wrist to show hers “Replaces the ones we lost” you grinned “I fucking love it” and pulled it out the box before slipping it onto your wrist. Jay looked up from his phone and shook his head “and this is why I told Mouse I’m just the side piece”

You cut your eyes at him with a wink “We all love a man that knows his place Jay” and he shook his head “You better be glad I love you and you’re the mother of my child” you grinned “I am dear” Hank stepped to the door of his office and tapped the board “We caught a case. Bank robbery. Gear up. We roll in five” you looked at Kevin who nodded “Let’s go Kidd” you grinned “Let’s get it Kev”

You and Hailey hadn’t wanted to leave for your doctor’s appointment but Hank insisted saying that there was no lead at the moment in the bank robbery and the chances that anything big would pop off while you two were gone was pretty slim.

You sat next to Hailey in the waiting room, fidgeting with your crescent ring. “Greg said he doesn’t like being called my boyfriend” she cut her eyes at you “So what are you supposed to call him? You’re not engaged or married” you waved a hand “My point! And the conversation we were having at that moment I was just saying that him and Jay were good co parents considering that he was technically just the child’s mother’s boyfriend” she nodded “I don’t get offended when I get called Addy’s dad’s girlfriend” you shrugged “I don’t know”

About that time the tech stepped to the door and called you both back knowing if any way possible you wanted to stay together.

_____________________

“So, what’s the verdict doc?” you asked Nat when she walked into the room. She smiled “The verdict is that you two healed beautifully�� you grinned “Nice to know. So we’re all cleared, right?” She nodded “Yes Detective Kidd. You’re all clear” you winked at Hailey “In that case, let's get back to work” Nat shook her head “I swear you two are just as stubborn as Jay and Will”

You shrugged “God help the world when Addy gets a little bigger than cause she had mine and Jay’s temperament mixed”

You just wanted to put the whole damn day behind you. You and Hailey made it back to the precinct by two. A tip came in around two thirty by three the fucking ivory tower was snatching the case out from under intelligence and handing it to major crimes. They would fumble it and you knew it would be back on all of your doorsteps by monday. Not like those blowhards would listen to logic though, not like your unit could wrap it up before then. Yeah, fuck them.

You walked down to the parking lot with Jay, Hailey and Kev. Jay and Hailey were on their way to daycare to pick up Addy and Kev apparently had a date from the sounds of it “What about you Kidd, what are you up to tonight?” Jay cut his eyes at you with a smirk and you rolled your eyes “I am going to sleep in tomorrow morning since my daughter will be with her amazing father and my beautiful wifey”

He shook his head “Suck up” you grinned “It’s true. I always sleep in on Saturdays if you have her” he grinned “Nice to know I’m good for something” you nodded “Yes you are. You make pretty babies and allow me to sleep in every other saturday” Kevin shook his head “Give em hell Y/N. See yall folks later”

You leaned up to kiss his cheek before he bumped Jay’s shoulder and winked at Hailey. Once Kevin walked away you motioned to your jeep “With that I’m headed home. If you two or Addy need anything feel free to call. Love you” Hailey grinned “Love you!”

When Mouse got home he let himself in. “Sweetheart?” he called out but there was no answer. Your jeep was parked out front. Where were you? He locked the door and headed further into the apartment. When he pushed the bedroom door open he found you curled up in the center of the bed fast asleep, from the looks of it you’d barely gotten your boots and jacket off before you crashed. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad idea.

He slipped his own jacket and boots off and slipped into the bed before you, slipping his arm around your waist. A smile slipped onto his face when you wiggled back against his chest then settled again once you were close to him. Yeah life could be so much worse than it currently was.

You’d meant to just lay across the bed for a few minutes but the next thing you realized it was a little after seven and Mouse was curled up behind you. “Baby?” you whispered, turning to face him. His eyes slowly opened, a smile slipping onto his face “What time is it?” “A little after seven”

“We have dinner reservations at seven forty” you raised an eyebrow “We do?” he nodded “Yup” “And why didn’t you tell me?” you asked and he laughed “It was a surprise” you shook your head “I love you Greg” he smiled “I love you too. Let’s get ready. I don’t want to be late”

_________________

“Are you sure I look ok?” you asked Mouse for probably the hundredth time. You were wearing a simple outfit. Jeans, a nice top and your favorite boots. He let his eyes trail down your body “Look amazing to me” you rolled your eyes “Why do me or Hailey ever bother asking you and Jay how we look? You two are hopeless!”

He grinned “Sorry?” you shook your head, “Don’t be. I love you anyways” and followed him out to his truck. He opened the passenger side door for you and you grinned “What a gentleman” before he walked around to get in the driver’s side. You weren’t sure where you were going for dinner but he seemed excited.

When you pulled up to the waterfront you cut your eyes at him “Dinner reservation?” he grinned “Well dinner set up” you nodded as killed the engine then walked around to open the door for you and offered you his hand. You laced your fingers with his and smiled “Greg Gerwitz did you set up a picnic for us?” he shrugged “I may have had some assistance” you shook your head “Why are you so sweet to me?”

He shrugged one shoulder “Love of my life, my actual soul mate. The woman meant for me?” you felt your entire body warm at his words “I love you” he smiled “I love you too. Did I mention it’s also a full moon?” your eyes widened “A full moon, waterfront picnic? You are a little too perfect Gerwitz”

_____________________

After the two of you ate you were talking and his phone chimed. When he checked it you raised an eyebrow “What is going on?” he shook his head “Nothing” but the glint in his eyes and grin on your face told you something was.

He slipped his hand back into the picnic basket then stood to walk around the table you two were sitting at. You watched him curiously and your eyes widened when he got in front of you and got down on one knee before taking your left hand. He pulled up the box he’d had hidden in his hand “Y/N Kidd, You are the love of my life. My other half. My soul mate. The one woman I know without a shadow of a doubt that I was put on this earth to love. From the moment I laid eyes on you when you came barreling into me and Jay threatening to kill Adam over your broken coffee mug I felt it. There has never been anyone like you and there will never be anyone like you. You breathed life back into me when I was just existing. Even when we drifted apart my heart, my very soul knew who they belonged to and led me home to you. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

You nodded, tears choking you to the point you weren’t sure your voice would work “Yes Greg” you managed and he smiled “Yes?” “Yes!” you repeated. He opened the box and you gasped. He kept his promise. It matched Stella’s engagement ring, the only difference was hers was yellow gold and this one was white gold, just like your crescent rings. “Greg” you whispered as he slipped the ring on your finger “Me and Kelly promised you two years ago, they’d match” you nearly dove into his arms to crash your lips against his. He held you close, mouth moving against yours until you heard a loud whistle that you recognised anywhere. You pulled back from him and looked up to see Stella and Kelly walking towards the two of you, both of them grinning.

You looked back at Mouse “Your phone going off was those two being in position wasn’t it?” he shrugged “Had to get you photos didn’t I?” you shook your head “Have I mentioned I love you Greg” he grinned “Not in the last five seconds so I’ll take it”

Stella laughed “Well let me see. I mean I helped shop for it but I want to see it on” you looked at Mouse, considering you were still halfway in his lap and held your hand out to Stella, she let out a low whistle and looked from Mouse to Kelly “I’ll be damned little sister we finally wrangled them both down”

Kelly shook his head “Sweetheart I think I speak for us both when I say you two have had us wrangled for years” Mouse grinned “He’s really not wrong”

Mouse’s mouth moved across your neck, kissing every inch of skin he could get access to. You gasped when his hips snapped into yours, hitting that spot deep inside of you as his fingers rubbed tight circles onto your clit “Fuck baby, right there” you moaned as you felt that building pressure burst as your orgasm hit you.

He buried his face in the bend of your neck, his thrusts getting harder and faster as he chased his own end. “Let me feel you baby” you moaned, nails digging into his back. The moment you two had gotten home from celebrating with Stella and Kelly you fell into your own celebration. You couldn’t get enough of his hands on your body, even worse than usual and considering you always craved his touch that was saying something.

He buried himself inside of you with a final roll of his hips and you felt when he came, the feeling somehow pushing you over that edge again, making your legs shake around his waist. He nipped at your neck before pushing himself up on his forearms to be able to look at you, the smile on his face made your heart flip “You’re so damn beautiful” you laughed, moaning lightly when it caused you to clench down on his cock that was still buried inside of you “You’re still in me Greg, not sure if you can be impartial”

He pulled out gently, kissing you softly as he did so “You’ve always been beautiful to me” you smiled as he kissed the tip of your nose “I’m gonna get a rag to clean you up and get you a water” you nodded “Ok love”

______________________

After you were both cleaned up and you’d drank enough water to please him, Mouse slid into bed next to you and you curled up on his chest, fingers playing with your engagement ring. He noticed what you were doing and a smile slipped onto his face. “Y/N Gerwitz?” you grinned “I like the sound of it. I’ll still have to use Kidd at work or hyphenate like Stel” he shrugged “I don’t mind as long as you’re my wife. My wife” he stared at you for a moment then a broad grin slipped onto his face “I’m not your boyfriend anymore sweetheart, I’m your fiance now” you shook your head “Guess you figured out a way to get rid of that title after all huh?” he nodded “Guess I did”

You pulled him into a kiss “Well come wrap your arms around your finance so she can get some sleep” the smile he gave you was one of the most gorgeous sights you’d ever seen before he said “Yes ma’am” and wrapped you up in his arms.

@desimarie12

@allisonargent144

@nevaehstreater18

@alexisquinnlee-bc

@courty-courtz00

#greg mouse gerwitz x reader #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead x hailey upton #chicago pd fanfiction #chicago pd fic #chicago pd fanfic #greg gerwitz x reader #mouse gerwitz x reader #greggerwitz x reader #broken bonds masterlist

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coraline-piange · 2 days ago

Note

“bed” or “hair” 💞🤍

hiiii 💞 okay you have somehow hit a magical combination because there's so many mention of both of these words, i could barely choose.

so, in the end i shall provide you with a snippet for each of the three pillars this fic is built on:

1) sillyness and fluff

Edwin rolls his eyes but leans forward to kiss the convincing smile regardless, his limbs looser already. When he pulls back he thumbs at the stubble on Charles’ chin. “You need to shave.”

“Nope. Trying out a new look, aren’t I?” Charles waggles his eyebrows.

“Oh,” is all Edwin can think of to say.

Charles squints. “Not a fan of beards, then?”

Edwin hums and lets his finger trail over the hint of hair above Charles’ upper lip. “Not a fan of beard burn but I will manage. I’m sure you will look roguishly handsome.”

“Like one of them love interests in your racy romance books,” Charles teases.

“They are not racy!”

Charles chuckles and kisses the tip of Edwin’s scrunched up nose. “I’ve peeked into them, you can’t fool me.”

2) horny horniness (this one with both words!!)

He uses his arms around Edwin to tip them to the side, once again grateful that Edwin's a fucking princess who enjoys a bed bigger than Charles’ entire bedroom. Edwin makes a surprised sound but looks quite pleased when Charles scoots down to settle between his legs. He's kneeling in front of the bed now and simply nuzzles his face into Edwin’s covered hard-on. Edwin's hands shoot down and settle in Charles’ hair and he pushes his hips up until he's rubbing against Charles’ face and — Charles lets out a loud moan, pushing back. His open mouth leaves a wet spot on the fabric that's pushed into his cheek when he turns his head slightly to look up to Edwin.

3) so much more angst than expected

“You mustn't lie for my benefit, Charles. It is quite alright.” He feels like he's 18 again, locked in his own body while Simon gives him the cold shoulder. He knows what he needs to do. “I understand that you didn't want to spend the night mopping up my tears. It's okay. I will — we can still… we can still have sex. I'll manage.”

“What the fuck, Edwin?” Charles lets go of him and stands up. “Is that what you're doing when we're having sex? Managing?” Charles sounds furious, pacing next to the bed and crossing his arms.

“No!” Somehow, somewhere, this conversation has gotten away from Edwin. Usually, that works. They should be kissing right now. They should have been kissing this whole time. The bed is shaky ground and Edwin fears one wrong move will see him topple to the side and into an abyss that's suddenly opened up next to him. “Not — not usually.”

Charles stares, opens his mouth a couple times but no words come out.

if you want more snippets, just send me a word 👀😌

#this one was HARD #ahana you chose such good words #morning after au #dbda #dead boy detectives #payneland #payneland fic #paineland #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland

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slytherinsoso · 1 day ago

Text

teasing fred | f.w.

18+ only !

in private, fred claimed you as his, but in public he insisted you were both just good friends.

you were starting to get pissed off. he loved to play with your feelings like it was all a game. fred never liked serious. nothing he ever did was serious. keeping things casual and fun was his specialty.

you knew that deep down, he felt something stronger for you than just a friends-with-benefits type situation. when you’d been partnered up with a slytherin for a class project, he avoided you the whole week. at first you thought he’d lost interested but then you realised he was jealous.

now, you knew the perfect way to make fred realise he actually had romantic feelings for you and not just lust. the gryffindor party was the perfect place to execute your little plan. even if it was extremely fucked-up.

you invited the slytherin you’d been partnered with a few weeks back. he accepted with no hesitation, which you’d expected. after all, fred had had legitimate reasons to get jealous because he had flirted with you non-stop the whole time you worked together.

fred would be at the party a little later as he’d just finished playing in a quidditch match and needed to shower. you used this time before he arrived to get to work on the slytherin. you needed him to be all over you for when fred turned up.

“honestly i’m surprised you asked me here tonight,” the slytherin admitted, scooting closer to you.

“oh really? and why’s that?”

he leant in so that he could speak closer to your ear, “because when i tried to make a move on you, you shut me down.”

your mind flashed back to being in the library with him, when his eyes had been hovering over your lips before he grabbed one side of your face with his hand. you had leaned your whole body back away from him and he laughed it off.

“maybe i was just nervous,” you lied.

he raised his eyebrows, as if not expecting your answer.

“you see, i seemed to believe it was because of that red-head.”

your heart raced at the thought of fred and his soft red hair, your hands gripping it as he-

no. not right now.

“oh, fred?” you laughed, “he’s just my friend.”

you couldn’t help but smile as you said those words. it felt like sweet revenge to use fred’s words against him in that way.

the slytherin slipped his arm across your shoulders, pulling you in close to his chest. “that’s good news.”

a girl tried to squeeze into the minimal gap which was left on the sofa. you were far too squished for comfort and found yourself being lifted onto the slytherin’s lap. you laughed nervously.

you had worn a short dress on purpose. you knew it would piss of fred to see you wearing something revealing as if trying to impress everyone else. but, now that the slytherin’s hand seemed to creep up your thigh, you were seriously regretting your decision.

you grabbed his hand and told him to slow down, keeping a light-hearted tone.

“i’m sorry, but how do you expect me to resist?” he countered.

you pulled down your dress a little since it had risen up when he lifted you onto him.

where the fuck was fred?

you scanned the party to suddenly notice fred leaning against a wall, staring right at you. his arms were crossed firmly. and he was definitely pissed.

you must have somehow missed him walking in even though you had checked to see who walked in the door every few minutes.

he was watching your every move very closely. this set off something inside of you.

you instantly reached for the slytherin’s face, pulling it towards you before kissing him aggressively. he looked a little startled but soon was slipping his tongue inside your mouth. he didn’t kiss anywhere near as good as fred but you couldn’t care. knowing that fred was watching made your whole body feel like it was on fire.

you prolonged the kiss as long as you possibly could, making sure it appeared passionate. when the slytherin then went for your upper thigh again, you pulled yourself away, telling him you needed to get a drink.

instead of going towards the drinks, you headed straight to fred who was now turned away and speaking to a girl who you knew had a crush on him. you grabbed his arm, pulling him to look at you.

“you got a problem?” you asked.

he put a hand above the wall that you had your back to, blocking you in.

“have you?” he spat.

you tilted your head, acting dumb. “what do you mean?”

he ignored you, turning his face away. you used your tip-toes to be able to touch his red hair and stroke it gently. “fred, tell me.”

fred placed a hand on the back of your head, using it to steer you toward an empty chair. he sat down and patted his lap.

“sit,” he ordered.

you obeyed but instead of sitting with your back to him, as he would have expected, you straddled him, not once looking away from his eyes.

your thighs were either side of his, causing your dress to be unable to stay down at a respectable length. it exposed your underwear but luckily only fred could see. his eyes lingered down there, before you lifted up his chin with your index finger.

“eyes up here,” you teased.

he grabbed your hand, forcing it away from his chin and instead placed it on his crotch. you could feel just how hard he was.

“even though you made me so fucking mad, you still turn me on,” he admitted.

you took your hand away, instead using it to play with the hair at the back of his head. he began to kiss your neck, softly, occasionally using his tongue. you let out a small moan of satisfaction and tore his mouth away from your neck and onto your lips.

as you kissed, you began to realise that it wasn’t going to plan at all. you’d let yourself become too distracted by fred and forgotten all about what you’d set out to do. you were giving in far too quickly.

you began to grind yourself against him as you kissed. perhaps some people would have noticed but you didn’t even care anymore. and neither did fred, who gripped your hips and pushed your body into his with more force than before.

“so good,” he mumbled in your ear.

you kept going, building up the pace gradually. as his fingertips began to sink even deeper into your skin, you knew he was enjoying it.

fred’s hand began to creep up your dress, towards your centre. just before he reached it, you stood up and left him there, all hot and frustrated.

“where are you going?” he asked, his voice desperate.

you ignored him. in one swift motion, you pulled your hair into a ponytail and tied it. this style showed off the backless feature of your dress which flattered your body.

fred watched as you sat yourself back down next to the slytherin, innocently. this sent a rage burning through him. how dare you make him all worked up just to leave him for another guy.

he stormed over to where you were sat.

“what the fuck do you want from me?” he questioned.

“i want you to tell them the truth about us,” you confessed.

he blinked. he thought that you’d liked sneaking around and keeping it a secret. but seeing the hurt on your face as you said those words made him see how much it would mean to you.

he picked you up so that your legs wrapped around his waist. then, walking right through the middle of the party so that everyone could watch, he led you away to the dormitories.

“I’m going to make sure everyone hears just what we’ve been getting up to the last few weeks, love.”

you could almost squeal in delight as you heard those words.

“don’t be so sure that you’ll be able to make me moan loud enough,” you challenged.

but the intense desire in his eyes really didn’t leave any room for doubt. and soon enough you and fred were no longer a secret.

#fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #fred weasely x y/n #fred weasley fic #harry potter fanfiction

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jetii · 2 hours ago

Text

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

#echo x reader #tbb echo #tbb echo x reader #arc trooper echo #the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #tbb echo x you #clone x reader #echo x you #arc trooper echo x reader #roy writes #hello and welcome to my second “echo gets sooo smiley cutesy after sex” ted talk #the grumpy just gets fucked right out of him #and i'll die on this hill actually #did not proofread this much sorry

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exhaustedpirate · 1 day ago

Text

someone to take care of you

my offering for day 1 of @bucktommyfluffebruary decided to make tommy even more exhausted than he was on the hospital scene so that buck has to manhandle his boyfriend ¯_(ツ)_/¯ basically tommy was fighting a wildfire for three days and buck takes care of him when he gets back!

rated T | 2918 words also on AO3

Tommy hasn’t had a proper rest for the past 72 hours.

He is aching, burning, he is in agony. His bones ache under his skin, his muscles burn from exhaustion and his body is begging him for rest.

He doesn’t remember getting home until he is standing in his driveway, an engine full of equally tired firefighters carefully driving down the street. He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with smoke-free air and forces himself to leave behind the hell he just escaped.

Tommy passes by an unusual Jeep parked in his driveway while he drags his feet towards his front door, his brain struggling to give him the answers he needs. It’s only when the door opens before he can muster the strength to take the keys from his pocket that it hits him.

Evan.

Whose brow is furrowed with worry and whose mouth is a mix of contentment and concern. He is wearing one of Tommy’s shirts and gym shorts, both in a rumpled state. He smells of sweat and cleaning products and it takes him another second - Evan has a key.

Of course he does, they exchanged keys the week before. Tommy had told him that he would be on call in the midst of wildfire season and the way Evan’s face had been the definition of worry had tugged at something in his heart. It was easy to pluck the spare key from the drawer and pass it to Evan, it was easier still to add his spare key to his keychain.

It’s both a blessing and a curse to see his boyfriend of two months.

As Tommy wraps his arms around Evan and buries his face on his neck feeling the way the other man’s arms wrap around him just as tightly, he finds himself elated to not have to ask for this, to have his presence so conveniently within reach. But as he clings and melts in the warmth, Tommy feels his exhaustion settle deeper in his bones, chastises himself for being tired, for not taking advantage of every moment spent with Evan, of not being present.

“I’m so happy you’re back,” Evan whispers in his ear, worry giving way to relief, his fingers digging into the sweaty strands of Tommy’s hair. “I saw the news and as soon as I was off I came here,” There is apprehension in his voice as if concerned he might be too much but Tommy just grabs him tighter. “I cleaned your whole house.”

Tommy lets out a tired laugh against the skin of his neck before kissing it, feeling the way Evan shivers under it. He understands the concern, the worry, the desperation. There were many times he wanted to drive towards the 118 after hearing some of their crazier rescues on TV or over dispatch but stopped himself - focused on work, tinkered around a car or punched his worries away. Something warm settles in his chest when he realises he gave Evan the confidence to seek him out, to ask for more.

“I’m very happy that you’re here,” Evan’s body relaxes at his confession and he buries his face on his neck, uncaring for the smell of smoke and sweat. “But I don’t know if I’ll be the best company today.”

Evan breaks the hug and smiles at the soft whine of protest that leaves him unbidden. His hands cup Tommy’s cheeks and he closes his eyes at the way Evan’s thumbs caress the bags under his eyes.

“I’m off for the next 36 hours,” Evan explains and Tommy opens his eyes, giving his boyfriend all his remaining attention. “I’d like to take care of you.” His tone is shy and it clenches something in Tommy’s chest.

He’s not used to being taken care of.

“Evan-”

“You took care of me before,” The other man interrupts his half-hearted protest, finger over his lips. “I want to take care of you too.”

How can he say no to that?

His eyes are wide, unsure whether to believe Evan’s words, the determination in his eyes, the strength in his tone. But he nods, his exhaustion letting that part of him that craves, that yearns, take over his decision. Evan’s smile is blinding and it soothes an ache inside him.

His boyfriend takes his hands and pulls him inside his house, the smell of cleaning supplies and air freshener in every square inch. Evan’s presence is noticeable all around, his boots now sit neatly next to the other man’s shoes, there’s a book he doesn’t recognise on his coffee table and a coat on the back of a kitchen chair. Evan is taking space in his home.

Tommy wishes he would take it all.

Thankfully, he doesn’t say what his sleep-addled mind fantasizes and simply lets Evan guide him towards the second floor and into the bathroom. His eyes blink into awareness as he’s sat on the closed toilet lid, and he looks up at the other man realising that he’d asked him a question.

“Wh-What did you say?”

Evan’s patient smile only makes him feel worse. How can he have such a wonderful man in his house without paying him every drop of attention?

Hands on his cheeks interrupt his chastising thoughts. Evan kisses his forehead, his nose, his cheeks and finally a chaste kiss to his lips. Something inside him purrs at the care, at the affection and he feels that little bubble of shame pop into nothingness.

“I asked if you wanted help taking off your clothes so you can take a shower.”

He blinks his eyes a few times before he slowly pulls off his coat, slow movements like moving through sand and when it’s off, there is a small pinch to the other man’s brow. Tommy takes a breath before pulling up his t-shirt. It goes over his head and he notices that Evan is closer than before. Oh, he helped him.

Evan watches him a second before he nods resolutely. “I’m showering with you.” He declares, pulling off his (Tommy’s) shirt.

“Evan, no,” Tommy protests even as his eyes roam the naked expanse of his boyfriend’s chest. “I’m capable of showering by myself.”

“Tommy,” The other man’s tone is patient but he raises an unimpressed eyebrow as he places his hands on his hips. “I feel like you’re going to fall in the shower if I leave you alone in there and I really don’t want anyone from the LAFD to see your dick except me.”

Tommy lets out a surprised guffaw and Evan’s lips twitch as he tries to keep the chastising expression on his face. He looks up at his boyfriend with a soft smile. “You really don’t have to, babe.”

“I want to,” Evan’s face softens and he helps Tommy to his feet. “Besides, I smell like bleach and sweat, not exactly a sexy combination.”

“I don’t know,” Tommy sways closer to his boyfriend, maybe on purpose, maybe accidentally. “You always smell great to me.”

Evan laughs as their noses bump into each other, a betraying blush covering his cheeks. “You look like you’re five seconds away from falling asleep, Tom, you have no purpose being so charming.”

Tommy laughs with Evan, nodding in reluctant agreement. There’s a press of lips against his before his boyfriend begins unbuttoning his trousers, letting them fall to his feet before pulling down his boxer briefs. With a stabilizing hand on the sink, Tommy steps out of the fabric pooled at his ankles with Evan’s help. While crouched, the other man also takes off his socks and, even naked, Tommy still feels the weight of the past few days.

Evan stands and holds his hands to help him into the shower base. He feels a little annoyed at needing so much help, at feeling so useless and weak but then he looks at Evan’s face, the soft look in his eyes, that beautiful smile and he forces that part down, pushes it away.

It’s okay to ask for help, his therapist once told him. It’s okay to let others take care of you.

His boyfriend discards his clothes quickly so he can join him. Evan turns on the water and carefully maneuvers Tommy under the spray once it's hot enough. It feels so good that Tommy lets out a contented moan. His bones melt under the warmth and he feels Evan’s chuckle like a cold drink in a hot summer or whatever other ridiculous thoughts come to mind when his boyfriend laughs.

“That feel good?”

Tommy hums as Evan joins him under the spray, their bodies close together and he has never been so happy that he upgraded to the wide shower head when he redid the bathroom. Evan had also been very pleased to see the size of his shower the first time he came over, they have found many satisfying ways to make use of the space.

It feels different now, to be so close, so naked and wet and to feel so cared for, without any expectations. All he needs to do is stand there as Evan grabs his shampoo and massages his scalp. It draws another moan from his lips and he takes hold of the other man’s hips with how much he sways in place.

Tommy lets himself be moved, lets Evan run through every inch of his skin with a loofah, lets the scent of his citrusy shower gel fill his nose. He lets himself enjoy the closeness of Evan’s body, his careful touches, his soft words, their chaste kisses. Everything is soft, warm, relaxing and he would really like to have this all the time.

The water shuts off and Tommy blinks his eyes open to look at Evan’s smile. Such a good smile. His boyfriend blushes and he realises he must have said it out loud. But Evan presses their lips together to stop any excuses or apologies to come out of Tommy’s mouth. Probably for the best.

“Don’t worry, babe, nothing you say while you’re this sleep-deprived will be admissible in a court of law.” Evan giggles and Tommy bites the inside of his lip to stop himself from gushing over it.

Evan helps him out of the shower and begins to towel-dry him. There’s still that niggling voice yelling at him for his ineptitude but then his boyfriend will smile up at him and that voice gets quieter and quieter.

It’s okay to let others take care of you.

Tommy has a towel wrapped around his waist and lets Evan guide him to his bedroom and groans as he sits on the bed, his body no longer used to the softness of the seat. He is flagging and Evan must know it because in no time, Tommy is wearing soft and clean clothes and he flutters his eyes awake to see Evan already wearing one of his hoodies and sweats. God, he looks good.

Tommy groans inwardly when Evan blushes again. “I have no control over this.” He mutters as an apology.

Evan smiles softly and runs his fingers down the side of Tommy’s face, he hums in pleasure at the touch. “I’m not complaining.”

“I promise I’ll compliment you so much more when I can actually think again.”

Evan laughs and that warm feeling nestles in his chest. “I’ll remind you of that promise when you can actually think again,” Tommy nods and sighs at the soft kiss planted on his forehead. “Think you can stay awake long enough to eat one of the bacon muffins I made?”

“You made muffins?” Tommy mumbles and his stomach grumbles at the thought of food.

“I got an alert about the wind shifting directions and scrubbing the kitchen grout wasn’t getting the job done anymore,” Evan pulls him up to his feet and kisses the concerned wrinkles of his frown. “I made bacon, chocolate and rhubarb muffins,” He scratches at the back of his neck looking away with a blush. “Your freezer is a little full now.”

Tommy grins, incredibly fond of the man in front of him. He pulls his face up to by the chin to land a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s lips. Evan sighs into the kiss and his shoulders relax. “I can’t wait to try them all, babe.”

Evan grins and lands a smacking kiss on Tommy’s lips that makes him laugh. “Come on, then!”

He’s seated at the kitchen table before he knows what’s going on. There was definitely a lot of stress-cleaning going on, his oven looks like it just came out of the store. But, despite the satisfaction of a clean house, all he sees is the stress he put Evan through.

He thinks of oil stains in his hands. Of muscles aching from overwork. Of the beaten up state of his punching bags. Wonders if Evan would see the same.

The microwave beeps and then there’s the smell of a warm muffin in front of him, bacon wafting up to his nose. His mouth waters and the first bite is divine and he lets out a moan to show it. Tommy is only able to see Evan’s proud grin when he’s finished, licking his fingers to get the last of the taste.

“Good?” Evan asks, approaching him and running his fingers through his damp hair.

Tommy wraps his arms around Evan’s waist, resting his chin on his belly and closing his eyes at the caress. “So good.”

Evan bends down to kiss his forehead, fingernails scraping pleasantly on his scalp and he hums sleepily. “I think I should get you into bed before you pass out.”

“That’s very forward of you, Evan Buckley,” Tommy mumbles, eyebrow raised even with his eyes shut. “I’m not that easy.”

Evan giggles and Tommy feels a small smile on his lips. “Alright, Thomas Kinard, I won’t take advantage of you.”

“Good,” Tommy forces his eyes open when Evan urges him to stand and accepts the soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “My boyfriend would kick your ass.”

Evan grins and pulls him towards the stairs again. “He would?”

“Oh yeah,” Tommy returns the grin, clinging to the last remaining energy the muffin gave him. “He’s got big muscles and these long ass legs, the whole package.”

“Hmm, I don’t know,” Evan is blushing even as he keeps the smirk on his face. “I think I could take him, you’re worth fighting for.”

Tommy’s breath hitches at the honesty in his voice.

His boyfriend’s blush goes down his neck and he’s fairly sure it’s spread to his chest, he clears his throat. “You should brush your teeth before bed.”

Tommy goes in a haze, automatically brushing his teeth as his mind rushes through the idea that Evan would fight for him, that he was worth fighting for, worth keeping. Uh.

He walks into the bedroom to find Evan sitting at the foot of the bed, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. Maybe he wasn’t expecting it either, maybe he regretted it.

“Evan-”

“I mean it,” Evan blurts out and Tommy quiets. “I did but we don’t need to talk about it tonight,” He stands from the bed to take his hands and pulls him towards the bed. “You need sleep and so do I.”

Maybe it wasn’t the time for a talk, Tommy was sure that he shouldn’t be trusted with words at the moment. But he didn’t want it to go unnoticed. He presses his lips to Evan’s in a soft kiss.

“Thank you,” He whispers. “Not just for your words but for taking care of me.”

“You don’t have to-”

Tommy kisses him again, this time with more fervor, interrupting him. “Thank you.”

Evan nods and directs them to bed. The sheets are cold but they smell clean and fruity and his boyfriend is warm. Tommy sighs when they stop shuffling around in bed, his head resting on Evan’s chest and arm wrapped around his torso. Evan’s fingers run along his hair and he feels all the tension, the exhaustion, the anxiety, the unworthiness fall away from him. Evan’s touch is a balm to every ache, every wound and every hurt.

He falls asleep warm, content, happy.

The sun is shining bright when he opens his eyes. A sigh escapes him at the satisfaction of a good night’s sleep and at the fingers casually creating shapes on his clothed back.

Tommy looks up from the torso he used as a pillow the whole night to see Evan already awake, scrolling through his phone with a focused frown. His hair is messy from sleep, growing curls falling every which way. He’s been awake for a while, his eyes don’t hold that just-woke-up look they do when they wake up together.

Evan’s been awake for a while but hasn’t moved because Tommy was sleeping on him. A warm feeling that feels a lot like showering together, like home baked muffins, like “you’re worth fighting for”, floods his chest.

Fuck…

Tommy might just be on his way to falling in love with Evan Buckley.

And, as if his emotional turmoil was loud enough for his boyfriend to notice, Evan looks down at him. His smile is bright and his eyes are focused on him. Tommy is having a little difficulty breathing but forces a deep breath when the other man’s hand moves up to his hair.

“Slept well?”

Tommy is definitely going to fall in love with Evan Buckley.

He smiles. “Wonderfully.”

Maybe it’s not so bad.

#carolina writes #bucktommy #tevan #fluffebruary #bucktommy fic #tevan fic #fluff #non-sexual intimacy #hurt/comfort

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theloveinc · 3 days ago

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enjin x reader - in sickness and in—

(enjin hates going to bed when you’re mad. the least he can do is get you off—even if you’re sulking the whole way through.)

warnings: afab!reader, gn pronouns, use of pet names, 2k words, PWP!!!!!!!!!!!

You refuse to look him in the eye when Enjin calls to you.

The acknowledgment is there—you’re in the room, you’ve halted your trivial slights and huffs, letting him voyeur your bedtime routine of rubbing lotion all over you body—even if you did sideswipe his attempt to pull you into his side for a brief kiss after dinner (which had Zanka in disbelief, Riyo giggling, and Rudo averting his eyes like the two of you were two big piles of steaming crap).

The fight was over something stupid, something petty, something to do with Rudo and whether or not he needed more or less babying.

(You had said he gets enough slack from everyone as it is, that Enjin doesn’t need to go out of his way to act as the kid’s personal assistant. Then, Enjin countered by claiming you were guilty of doing the same thing, and so you accused him of not taking you seriously, and so on and so forth until you both ran out of breath and examples.)

It wasn’t drastic by any means, more smart and nippy, still, you hate the way flippancy can still get the best of Enjin even between the two of you, his caliber as a giver sometimes overwhelming his natural (far from earned, really) charm. And when he uses that condescension to outwit you in a fight where your argument is equally as reasonable as his (or maybe, simply, just as dumb), you’re not so inclined to sit back and take it.

(In more serious spats, ones that feature more fight than fuss, and between you, more than mutual glowers and snitty remarks, he does make his mistakes up to you. In the dark, in between the heat of your bodies, he’s able to turn back into the charming man you fell in love with, the one who forsakes all others, one who can actually make you swoon in word and action alike. In the interim, however? He's not above pushing buttons. )

He gestures to you, watching the way you slow your digging through the dresser to stare at him from out of the corner of your eye.

You’re topless, as you sometimes are right before bed. Normally, you’re happy to call one of Enjin’s loose shirts pajamas, but tonight you’d rather spend the extra three minutes picking out something of your own to wear to bed, as petulant as that makes you look. A subtle dig you know won’t bother your handsome, sweet-mouthed schmooze of a boyfriend… but one he will definitely pick up on.

“We don’t have to talk,” he says from where he sits, perched on the edge of the bed as if to remind you of the fact he’s inescapable. “I hate going to bed when you’re mad at me, you know that.”

There it is, even though he technically started the fight by poking the bear that is wiping Rudo’s ass for him. Enjin is eager (always eager) to push the tension behind you (it’s taken you a long time to determine when he’s being genuine or not, even if most of the time, you’re sure his phrasing isn’t meant to blame but rather… highlight his unspoken surrender) without acknowledging his fault in the matter; it’s never him who’s mad at you, rather, vice versa, as proved by your clear attempts at withholding from him.

The bastard croons again. “Let me take care of you, sweetheart,” then he rubs it in for good measure. “Please.”

You roll your eyes, but approach him anyway. You can’t say you hate it when he calls you sweetheart, but he’s stingy with the endearment, often saving it for times like this; times when he’s wiggled his way under your skin and wants to feign his innocence in the matter of upsetting you. It’s not that he’s actually of the mind that he is free of blame, but… he’s always been the weasel of the both of you, thick-skinned (aside from his oddly distant, secretly-concerned attachment to abandoned children) and forbearing.

Enjin opens his legs wide enough for you to take your place between them, his big hands reaching to rest on the divots of your hips, and his chin lifting so that his eyes can shift from your bare chest to your face. His fingers tangle in the elastic of your sleep shorts, and he’s quick to roll the band over the soft curve of your ass until he has you stepping out of them entirely.

There are things you could say, slim and biting, or lewd and stout, but you decide to stay quiet. You’d much rather soak in the three seconds of his faux-pleading-turned-admiration than risk losing a losing potential orgasm, peeved as you are.

It’s always been an effort to be as forgiving as Enjin, especially in a place as tough as on the ground, where grudges do more to keep you safe than going soft on dimpled, butter-eyed boys… but you know Enjin could never hold your care for Rudo against you, even if it means he’ll get an earful tomorrow when he admits you’re right about needing to remember the little turd’s not a hapless kid anymore—

For now, you let your bodies do the talking, let his face find a place in your chest so he can press quick kisses to your sternum and suck little hickeys onto the innermost fat of your tits. For the first time since the spat, he’s fully absorbed in the moment, his eyes closed to focus in on his attention of you, whether as a deliberate distraction from his own feelings of guilt… or not. Sexually, he still manages to keep you at the forefront of his thoughts.

He pulls back, not after one kiss to your lips (which you return, delayed, to the corner of his) and puts two fingers in his mouth, taking the time to moisten each digit before sliding them down the front of your belly. He goes until they tickle the dusting of hair on your mons, when you’re quick to grab the sleeve of his t-shirt, bunching the fabric up in your fist as he reaches where you’re most doughy, soft, and admittedly needy, your body’s honesty betraying your mind’s annoyance.

He smirks when he notices the signs of wet and warmth, and you gasp softly when the pad of his finger presses into your clit. The tension in your loins wasn’t exactly unknown to you, but the throb of his touch has your stomach flexing regardless, even if this is far from the first time he’s explored you in this way.

“Enjin—“ you harsh, half whined through heated breath, half through your teeth at the nonchalance he displays; deliberately slow in finding rhythm against where you are most sensitive to his touch. He hushes you, leaning further into the moment by laving his tongue over a nipple, letting the softest part of your skin catch on his bite. The bud, already pert from exposure, tightens into something that stings from the cold when his mouth departs and returns elsewhere—reminiscent, again, of the effect of him.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he coos, nuzzling further into your breast, “‘don’t have to cry for me.”

Against your conscious will, you keen. His dedicated worship of your chest does nothing to stop the pad of his finger from starting to rub increasingly-restless little circles into your clit that change tempo as quick as he lifts and applies pressure (each switch of pace causing blood to rush to extremities you hadn’t realized had gone numb). Aided by the pull of his other arm keeping you close, your hands move to tangle in his hair and your torso arches forward as if to encourage the thorough attention. The only thing you can think, aside from the fact that you’re giving him the satisfaction of spitting out his name, is that you know it’d be less than an inch, would be less than one single breath of his, to slide his finger into where your sex flowers open entirely. As with most scenarios he puts you in, however, he enjoys his time toying with you more than he does leading you to any kind of rushed ending

As if in reward, your grip on his hair has grown tight, pulling it taut from his scalp, and Enjin is huffing right alongside you to keep up with the torment. He’s still smiling like the goon he is, but his satisfaction with the endeavor, his pleasure in pleasing you, builds right alongside your own to the point where it’s no longer simply a distraction but a desire.

His movements are skilled, ablaze with experience that’s now solely saved for you, in how he’s able to hold his wrist despite the rhythm of his fingers, and match the slender curve of his body with the arching tangle of yours.

You can barely stop yourself from shaking at the effort it takes you not to fold entirely, and you lean down to kiss him again, sloppy, unfocused, though he makes it easy in meeting you halfway. Your lips meet, and then meet again, and then open so your tongues can greet each other, this time, in kind rather than in argument.

“‘know I love you,” he mumbles in between your mouths, “right, sweetheart?”

You hum some type of affirmation, which has Enjin guiding your leg over his knee to open you up further and wider. He lets his thumb take over the attention of your clit, his middle fingers now sliding steady into your cunt—stretching, massaging, warming you from the inside out as the initial sting of adjustment blooms into pleasure. You can feel the way his lips tick up against yours at the receptiveness, the perfect ease with which you take to him inside you, reaching to where only he can reach with every slide in and then out again.

“Can you say it back?” he eats up your breath, thumb heavy on your clit, more harsh pressure now that he’s nudging that spot toward the front of your insides, winding something deep in your belly that’s desperate for relief. “‘wanna hear you say you love me.”

“Love you, Enjin,” you breathe, forgetting your anger, eager for your reward Even if you will resume annoyance post-climax, Enjin is thorough in making sure you’re satisfied regardless of the reason for trysts such as these, and the words egg him on to lay back, now pulling your hips to align fully over his hand. Your own slide from his face to his chest, streaking his pale skin with red where your nails rake the flesh.

With your hands resting on his navel, just like that, you come undone. A guttural moan rips from you, your pussy squeezing around him just as your sweat streaked thighs sandwich where he’s anchored his waist under you. Despite the pressure in your belly releasing like the cork off a bottle of champagne, knocking the wind right out of your sails, Enjin’s digits continue to dance between the seizing walls of your pussy, now gooey with your release that drips down his forearm. You're sure you can be heard through the walls of HQ, your labored whimpers and pants, but the concern is fleeting as you ride the aftershocks of him pulling and pushing out again, before sagging against him like a deflating balloon.

“That’s it, baby,” his voice is soft in your ear, milking your orgasm from lightning strikes of quick and tight bliss to soft and rolling aftershocks of satisfaction. His fingers slow but don’t stop, enjoying the final twitches of your pussy before he finally leaves you empty and cooling. “That’s it.”

Later, when all is said and done, your lotion reapplied and Enjin’s fingers sucked clean, you give him his goodnight kiss after all (even if you roll your eyes when he gives you that cheeky grin when you pull back, a glint in his eye when finally let him cuddle up to you in bed).

#enjin #enjin x reader #gachiakuta x reader #if this s*cks just lie to me ok? prommy ?? <3 #my feets just got cold what if this is ca ca poo poo (as my students say)#im gonna post and go right to bed!#caitie post #gen

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