#mutuals or not... if you have a tracking tag please let me know

[alongtidesoflight]

it’s WIP wednesday again thanks for tagging me @slothssassin i’ve two sets of mass effect posts planned and it’s a whopping set of 8 paintings and god knows when i have the time to ever get to these so for now, take one (1) sketch

i tag: @vixils @elmha @quesadellaarts @babineni @housemarcellus @neonbutchery @ladyeroway @blighted-elf @ineed-to-sleep and whoever else wants to share any wips with us

[onceandfuturehimbo]

Now tracking: #userele

[cuffmeinblack]

Idk if you’re taking requests but I have one and I’ve loved you’re writing for Ominis so let’s go!!

⚠️spoilers ahead just in case⚠️

I was wondering if you’d be willing to write an Ominis x fem!hufflepuff! Reader where they’ve liked each other but it all comes out before the Scriptorium mission. Like he tells the story on why he won’t use crucio and everything but when Sebastian uses the curse on her Ominis is the one to rush to her and help her. I just want fluff and love for this boy he needs more of it!!

I trust you to write this amazingly and please make whatever changes you’d like I’d just want this boy to be loved ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hold me close

Ominis Gaunt x gn!reader

Tags: angst | hurt/comfort | torture curse

1k words

A/n: Thank you for the request! This is a short little one shot rewrite of the In the Shadow of the Study quest so ⚠️SPOILER WARNING⚠️. Hope you like!

Quite how you ended up in Salazar Slytherin's secret Scriptorium with a couple of Slytherin boys was a mystery in itself, almost as baffling as the one presented directly in front of you. You'd left the cosy Hufflepuff common room only an hour ago, and now here you were, staring at a huge, ornate door decorated with serpents. Salazar Slytherin really liked snakes.

"That must be the voice I hear," Ominis says beside you. " I don't believe I'm about to do this."

Your heart flutters in your chest as you watch him approach the door and take a deep breath before speaking, if it could be called that—a quiet hiss escapes his lips. You jump back in astonishment as the mechanism on the door jumps to life, the eerie green glow of the serpents' eyes illuminating the dim corridor.

"Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed," you say, marvelling at him.

"Between the two of you, I'm starting to feel left out," Sebastian says from behind you.

"Between the two of us?" Ominis asks. If it weren't so dark, you'd swear he'd be blushing.

"I…never mind," Sebastian mutters.

You know what your friend means, but you squirm uncomfortably anyway. It's true, you both seem to have rare abilities that others might envy. You make quite the pair, though Sebastian was none the wiser of your mutual affection.

It isn't long before you encounter yet another locked door in this infernal maze. The floor is wet, the room smells dusky and damp, and you quickly notice the reason why. Following the scurrying of a rat in the corner, your illuminated wand shines on a skeleton in the corner of the room. You fight to hold back the bile rising in your throat. A scrap of paper draws your eye, slightly nibbled but still more or less intact, laying next to the long-decayed corpse. You reach down and pick it up with two fingers, your face twisting in disgust as you try to read the scrawled words.

"Ominis...your aunt Noctua…she mentions being trapped here. Blocked by an unforgivable curse," you say shakily.

Your gut twists with guilt, knowing that having agreed to talk to Ominis for Sebastian had doomed you all. You had wanted to help your friend, but you should never have agreed to it, and the pain on Ominis' face is more than you can bear.

"Ominis, I know this is the last thing you want to do…," Sebastian started.

"Yes, it is! I thought you knew me better!" Ominis shouted back.

Your immediate reaction is to go to him. You wish you could hold him, comfort him, instead you move slowly to his side, your hand reaching for his but falling short under Sebastian's watchful eye.

"Ominis," you whisper.

"I won't do it," Ominis says, shaking his head and beginning to pace nervously. "You shouldn't either."

"I understand, but it's our only way out of here. I can take it," you say, trying to keep the quavering from your voice. You muster the courage to reach out and grip his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Are you going to use the curse on Sebastian?" he asks in a small voice.

"I don't think I can."

Ominis grimaces as you leave his side, walking over to Sebastian by the door, steeling yourself for what's to come. You trust your friend not to prolong it longer than necessary. Balling up your fists, you nod and Sebastian readies himself, raising his wand and hesitating only for a second before expelling the dreaded incantation.

"Crucio."

A crackle of electricity ripples through your body and you see only a red haze before forcing your eyes shut and falling to the floor, gasping for breath. Your nerves are on fire, your very flesh feels as if it's burning as you try to scream but nothing comes out.

"Please, please," a faint voice enters your ears as the pain subsides and you open your eyes, staring at the floor as your vision readjusts to the assault on your retinas, the stones beneath you swimming back into focus. You take a deep breath and fill your lungs, desperately reaching out in front of you, clutching the first thing you feel.

You look up and Ominis is kneeling in front of you, holding your arm and feeling his way to find where you are. You start breathing shakily, trying desperately to catch your breath and feel wet, hot tears pooling in your eyes. Ominis' hands are shaking as they glide up your arms, over your shoulders and brushing your neck, finding your face. He cups your face in his hands, pausing as the tears roll over his fingers, then wipes them away gently. His face is contorted in pain as he asks, "Are you okay? Please, be okay."

"I'm okay," you manage to stutter.

Sebastian seems to be in shock, standing dumbly by the now open door, watching the interaction between his friends.

"I'm so sorry," he groans, leaning back against the wall.

"It's fine, you did what you had to do," you say weakly, attempting to get up off of the floor.

Ominis clutches your arms again, firmly, standing with you and steadying you as you wobble on your aching legs and stumble into him. He doesn't loosen his grip, only pulls you closer, looping an arm around your back and holding your weight.

"I've got you," the soft voice says in your ear.

You rest your head against his shoulder, his hand finding its way to the nape of your neck and gently stroking your hair.

"I…there's a room here…," Sebastian says feebly before retreating behind the door.

Ominis doesn't let you go, the shaking in his hands subsided, now replaced with a tender and assuredly comforting touch. You look up at him, his hands still tangled in your hair, and watch his closely knitted brows relax.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," he says.

"I'd do it again, for you."

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

title: miss me in your bones | chapter 2

chapter 1

pairing: dbf/neighbor!joel miller/female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 1961

summary:

When Joel Miller started his own contracting business, he didn’t expect all the administrative tasks that came with it. As a result, his budding business is in desperate need of help.

Good thing his best friend’s daughter is home for the summer from college. And sure, he’s always been attracted to you, but he can keep that under control.

It’s just one summer, right?

author’s note: slow burn? i don’t know her. if you enjoyed this chapter, please consider reblogging or commenting! and if you're so inclined, you can also send me coffee

AO3 | Joel Miller Masterlist

content warnings/tags: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), age gap (21f and 36m), no cordyceps outbreak, Joel is not a father, Joel's feelings of guilt about being attracted to his best friend's daughter, sexual tension, voyeurism, mutual masturbation, mild jealousy, pineapple as a pizza topping. let me know if there are any missing!

By the end of your first day in Joel’s office, you’ve managed to sort all the stray papers into more manageable categories and have booted up the ancient laptop he had gathering dust on the desk.

You’re sitting cross legged on the floor of the office when he comes home, surrounded by the fruits of your labor. He knocks on the doorframe to announce his arrival.

“How’s it goin’?” Joel asks. He’s rumpled from his day, shirt wrinkled and still damp from sweat earned in the Texas heat. 

Christ.

“It’s good! I’ve got most of these organized. Do you have any finance software you’re using?” You ask.

His brow furrows. “Uh…no. Should I?”

“You’re running a business, you gotta have some way of doing invoices and tracking expenses versus payments.”

“I’ve got a notebook for that.” He looks around the room. “Somewhere.”

The stare you give him is unimpressed. “I’ll start with Excel, but I expect a subscription to Quickbooks by the end of the week,” you tell him. He gives you a quick nod. 

“Listen, you gettin’ hungry? I was goin’ to order pizza,” he says. You shift around, sitting up on your knees. 

“Pizza sounds good.”

Joel doesn’t reply. He stands there with his hands at his sides, dark eyes fixed on where you’re kneeling in front of him on the floor. You’re aware of the image you must make, denim shorts riding up your thighs as you spread your knees the tiniest bit further, watching as Joel’s eyes track the movement and his Adam’s Apple bobs with a strained swallow.

The tension in the room is palpable, pressing on your chest and making it difficult to breathe. After what seems like forever, Joel shakes his head and holds a hand out to you, tight smile on his lips.

“Come on, let’s get that pizza going and you can tell me what else I’m doing wrong,” he says. You grip his hand, palm warm and rough against yours as he hauls you to your feet with little effort. The action brings your bodies close together, your chest brushing his as he looks down at you. “Pepperoni and pineapple?”

“You remember,” you reply, voice more breathy than it ought be around this man. 

“‘Course I do, darlin’,” he says, taking a broad step back, his hand slipping from yours. “How could I forget?”

________

You’re sitting across from Joel at his kitchen table, eating your slice of pizza as you make notes on a piece of paper of all the things that Joel needs to get his office and business in order.

“Why don’t you just come with me to the supply store? Go wild,” he says, biting into his own slice of pizza. 

“Don’t threaten me with a good time if you don’t mean it, Mr. Miller.”

“Told ya to call me Joel.”

You blink at him. “Sorry. Joel.”

Joel lets the sound of his name on your lips wash over him. He wants to hear it more. 

“We can go tomorrow mornin’. I don’t have any consults ‘til later. That work?”

“Sure.” You wipe your mouth with a napkin and stand, bringing your plate to the sink and tossing away your garbage. “I better head home. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Have a good night,” Joel says. You look at him over your shoulder as you leave the kitchen, smile bright.

“Oh, I will.”

Joel’s brow furrows as he wonders what that means. Did you have plans? Would you be going out somewhere? With someone?

And why does he care? 

________

The thing about being Joel Miller’s neighbor is that you know the man isn’t one for keeping his blinds closed. When you were seventeen, you remember peeking into his bedroom, conveniently located across from your window, and seeing a shirtless Joel getting ready in the morning, or watching him step into a pair of fitted Wranglers, his deft fingers buttoning the denim at his work-toned waist.

When you get back home, you slide the sheer white curtains covering your bedroom window apart. Joel’s room is currently dark and empty, but that gives you time to prepare. Your dad is at his weekly poker game with some guys from the garage, leaving you a house that will be empty until the early morning hours.

You toss your bag on your bed and rifle through your still-packed luggage, digging out the baby pink lingerie set you’d packed on a whim.

Hey, you never know. And boy are you glad that you brought it.

Because you had a plan. 

You were going to seduce Joel Miller.

The signs were all there. The man was attracted to you, and god knows you’ve had it bad for your dad’s best friend since you were still a teen. What’s a little harm in acting on your impulses?

Especially when they could lead to reward.

You strip out of your shorts and t-shirt, switching your more practical underwear for the lingerie -  a thong consisting of barely enough fabric to be considered clothing and a sweet matching balconette bra with an overlay of lace that makes your tits look fantastic. You check yourself out in the mirror before pulling your clothes back on.

Now you wait.

________

Joel heads to his bedroom around 9 pm, the day finally catching up to him and leaving him yawning with exhaustion. His mind wanders back to you, conjuring up the image of you on your knees, looking up at him through your lashes. He palms his cock with a groan as he enters his room.

He flicks on the lamp, bathing the room with a warm glow. Movement across the yard catches his eye and he’s surprised to see you in bed, laying on your belly with a book spread open in front of you and your feet kicking behind you. Your window is open and you’ve got something playing on speaker that he can’t recognize. 

You turn over, arching your back as you hold the book above you. Joel’s eyes trace the curve of your body, the way your shirt tightens across your breasts and lifts just enough to show a strip of your tummy over your denim shorts. He can feel his cock getting harder now, the press of it more urgent against the fly of his pants as he stands near the window, mesmerized by you.

You set the book aside, standing beside your bed with your back to the window. Your fingers curl under the hem of your shirt and lift it over your head, tossing it to the ground. He gets a brief glimpse of your baby pink bra strap before his eyes are drawn to watch as you shimmy your shorts over your hips and down your thighs.

Joel’s breathing hitches, caught in his throat as he takes in the sight of you in only a thong, your ass on full display for his hungry eyes. He shifts closer to the window, trying to keep himself out of the direct line of sight.

You stretch your arms above your head, turning as you do so, and Joel gets his first glimpse of your breasts and the way they’re barely contained by the cups of the bra you’re wearing, pink lace highlighted by smooth, luscious skin. 

Joel’s mouth goes dry as he watches you crawl back on the bed, ass swaying with your movements as you get yourself comfortable on your back. 

Your hands start out by cupping your breasts, pulling the little fabric cups down just far enough to expose your tight little nipples. You pinch the buds between your fingers, your back arching into the sensation. Joel has to press a hand to the wall to support himself.

Your mouth drops open in a moan as you play with your tits, twisting and pinching and groping yourself. Joel hardly dares to blink as your hands finally move on, trailing down your torso until your fingers dip beneath the waistband of the scrap of fabric trying to act as panties. Your back arches sharply and Joel commits the visage of your first touch to your needy little pussy to his memory.

He unbuttons his pants, shoving them down his thighs along with his boxers until they sit around his knees. He doesn’t want to look away for even a second to remove them further. This will have to do.

Your fingers circle your clit and he desperately wishes it was him feeling the slick slide of your cunt. Would you like it fast? Slow? Rough or gentle? He wants to find out every rhythm that makes you see stars.

You scramble to pull your panties off, tossing them to the floor in a rush to get your hands back to work. Your right hand stays pressed between your thighs while your left returns to pinching and pulling at your little nipples. Joel spits in his hand, fisting his cock with a harsh grip and giving it a single tug that has his knees going weak. He has to dig his teeth into his lip to fight back the groan that wants to escape.

You spread your legs obscenely wide, giving him a better view of the way your hand moves across your pussy. The fast circles you use to treat your clit, followed by the slow swipes to bring yourself back from the edge. He can practically see the way your empty cunt flutters around nothing, begging to be filled.

By him. Begging to be filled by him.

Christ, this is depraved. He shouldn’t be watching this. He shouldn’t be looking at his best friend’s daughter and thinking about how it would feel to sink his cock so deep inside he wouldn’t know where your body started and his ends.

His hand starts to move faster, twisting on the upstroke so that his palm glides over the sensitive, leaking tip of his cock. Your hips are moving frantically now, chasing your hand and the pleasure it’s giving you. You slip a finger inside and Joel can hear the moan you let out. He has to bite his lip so goddamn hard he tastes copper on his tongue so that he doesn’t echo your shouts of pleasure.

Your one finger becomes two, plunging inside of you with abandon as your chest heaves with ragged breaths. Joel can feel his orgasm building at a fever pitch and he silently begs for you to reach yours before he does.

Like the universe hears his plea, your legs snap shut around your hand and you shake with your release. He can see the quiver of your thighs and the way your mouth drops open in a moan.

“Joel!” You cry out. For a moment, he worries he’s been caught. But your eyes are closed, head pressed to the mattress as you ride out your orgasm.

Joel barely has enough time to cup his free hand over his cock, catching the streams of come in his palm as his orgasm hits him like a train, the sound of his name on your lips doing him in.

He sags against the wall as he tries to catch his breath. Finally, he uses his clean hand to pull his jeans back up his hips so that he can go to the bathroom and clean up.

When he returns to the bedroom, your curtains are notably closed. Joel swallows nervously.

Fuck. How the hell is he supposed to look you in the eye tomorrow, knowing what you look like when you come? Knowing what his name sounds like cried out from your lips?

He flops back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling with sleep creeping at the edges of his vision.

That’s tomorrow’s problem.

Joel Miller taglist:

@huffle-punk @johnwatsn @hopelessromantic727  @whereasport @pedr0swh0r3 @yellingloudly @dragon-of-winterfelll @thedeadsingwithdirtintheirmouths @mydailyhyperfixations @liati2000 @ghostofjoharvelle @cutesyscreenname @morgaussy @letsgroovetonighttt @endlessthxxghts @fake-bleach @brilliantopposite187 @mattmurdock1021 @str84pedro @justsomeoneovertherainbow @loquaciousferret @milly-louise @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @kirsteng42 @caatheeriinee07 @eternallyvenus @midnightswithdearkatytspb @evyiione @leeeesahhh @tloubarbie @afterglowsb-tch13 @loveliestofthoughts @theviewfromtheritz @brittmb115 @uncassettodiricordi @pedritosgfreal @adriennemichelle98 @mxtokko @gingersince97 @switchbladedreamz @casa-boiardi @tonysterco @rvjaa @ladymunson @sexpoisoned @trisaratops-mcgee @decemberdolly @spookyemorockbabe @reader-without-a-story @katmoonz @simping-soldat @mswarriorbabe80 @orphanbird95 @shatteredbaby @tusk89 @gingersince97 @mssbridgerton @internetobsessed1234-blog @sloanexx @manazo

[neon-junkie]

Hunted

Summary: You're eager to learn a thing or two off Hunter, and despite his dad jokes and flirting, he's an excellent teacher. That is, until he puts you in your place by hunting you down, and enjoying a mutual reward.

Pairing: Hunter x f!Reader (she/her)

Word count: 5.7k

Tags: Pred/Prey, Training, First time, Friends to lovers, Mutual pining, First kiss, Flirting, Vaginal sex, Oral (receiving), Outdoor sex, Dirty talk, Pet names, Feelings confession.

Notes: This was written for a lovely supporter!! I don’t write for Hunter often, so hopefully this is in character :) Please remember to reblog if you enjoy x

There's only so much that the cooling system in your armour can do, a mere victim to the sweltering heat of Yavin 4. It was Tech's idea to land here, mumbling something about an abandoned base that is bound to have some form of leftover stash. Even if it's just a couple of ammo rounds and barely-in-date ration bars, it'll do. You've learnt to become grateful, especially since the late Republic is no longer here to tend to your needs.

Hunter almost looked disgusted when his armoured feet met the ground. His hands came to rest on his hips as he scanned the area, sensing far more than you and the others can. He nodded, and like a (totally not in denial) father figure, he grumbled, "yep, this'll do."

Little did you know, Hunter meant this planet will be perfect for tracking lessons, seeing as you've been pestering him about them.

What? Hunter has a valuable skill that you need to learn. Who knows? It might save your ass one day.

Or, perhaps, get you in trouble...

Speaking of trouble, Hunter doesn't seem too fond of your inability to grasp his skills swiftly. To you, Hunter is currently gesturing to a handful of broken sticks, deep within the jungle, as part of your lesson. However, to him, they're an obvious sign that a large creature has recently passed through the area, and is following the stream that flows beside you.

"I just..." you mumble, staring at the broken sticks again. "...I don't understand how you can notice these things."

"I was born and bred for this," Hunter mindlessly shrugs, as if being bred for war is normal. As much as you respect the Kaminoan's work, they could have raised the Troopers with more respect. To them, they are forever disposable, even the desirable ones like the Batch.

To you, however, they are all valuable lifeforms, who could have reached far greater depths if they were given the opportunity to.

"You know how I feel about that," you scowl, expressing your disgust, not hidden by a helmet. Hunter's face is tucked behind his helmet, but you know that he's sharing the same disappointed expression as you.

Hunter's covered gaze moves from yours as he scans the area once more, probably picking up elements that you can't. You've always wondered what it must be like to be in his shoes, quite literally, to feel the ground shift and move beneath his feet. Hunter's ability to track greater than any being can, is one that you'll forever be envious of, minus the cons to it.

Hunter has had his fair share of sleepless nights, too overstimulated to even pull the covers up. Not to mention the headaches, earaches, and uneasy stimming whenever things are becoming too much. Still, we all have our downfalls, and this is Hunter's.

"Come on," Hunter urges as he takes the lead, letting you follow behind like a soldier. He meets the stream, and gazes at the soft ripples in the water before crouching down. Gloved fingertips dip into the cool stream, and Hunter listens to the sound it makes, sensing something that your simple mind cannot.

"Don't tell me you've learnt how to track through water, too," you tease, peering over his shoulder, attempting to understand what he's reading.

Hunter chuckles beneath his helmet, and pulls his fingers from the water, wiping them dry on his armoured thigh before standing beside you. "Would you be jealous if I did?" he smirks.

Jealous.

Yeah, that's certainly the word for it.

You cross your arms across your chest as you send him a scowl, your expression not fading when you hear Hunter chuckle at your frustration. "Maybe finish teaching me the basics, before you go splashing about in the water?" you suggest.

"I'm trying," Hunter groans. He shifts his weight, standing beside you, and a large, gloved hand rests on your armoured shoulder as Hunter's other hand gestures at the stream. "You see the way the water is moving?" he asks.

You nod, and watch the stream flow, still unsure on what exactly Hunter is gesturing to. "Streams don't naturally flow like that. They're steady, calm, at ease-"

"-So, the opposite of Wrecker?" you joke.

"Or Wrecker after he's had a good meal," Hunter chimes in, and softly laughs with you. "There's a disturbance to this flow. It's heavier than it should be, and those ripples don't often form naturally. Something is up the stream, possibly having a drink, and we're seeing the long aftermath of it."

Your lashes bat heavily as realisation takes over you. "Oh," you mumble.

"Yeah, oh," Hunter nods. The hand that was on your shoulder moves away, and with it, you let out a breath that you didn't realise you were holding. More deep breaths are sucked in an out as you attempt to steady your beating heart, knowing that Hunter can probably hear it thumping away in your chest.

Steady. Relax. He's just your Sergeant. Nothing more, nothing less.

But if he's just your Sergeant, then why have you spent countless nights fantasizing about him, hidden deep in the darkness of your dorm? That rugged expression, those wild curls, that glisten to his cinnamon brown eyes. He's a catch, a total dreamboat, and you're a woman who can barely sail.

Hunter calls out your name, and only then do you realise that you had zoned out into nothingness. "Mhm, sorry," you shake your head. "I was... watching the water."

"Right," Hunter slowly says with a nod. "That's good, because you're going to track whatever's up that stream."

"Me?!" you squeak.

"Yeah," Hunter says with another nod. "I've set you up for success. Just follow those basics I taught you."

The basics, huh? So, all you need to do is look out for broken sticks, footprints, and huge piles of shit! Yeah, okay, that's so easy.

With a groan, you cast Hunter a scowl before getting on with the task. Your eyes scan the dirt, and you look for anything out of the ordinary, hidden within the thick layers of the jungle. It doesn't take long for you to find more broken sticks, and a sarcastic comment begins brewing in your chest, only for it to fall flat as you realise that they're forming a trail.

Oh, Hunter was right...

"That's it," Hunter compliments as he watches you work, following the trail of broken sticks. It moves between the trees, twisting and turning along the jungle floor, soon leading to broken pieces of bark on one of the many trees.

Your eyes flick over to the stream, and it's rippling even more, the flow bouncing due to a disturbance. The more you walk along it, the more unsettling it becomes, and before you know it, you've found the source.

"There," you say with a hush as you crouch within the treeline, revealing the culprit. A Runyip stands there, taking in its fair share of water, unaware of your presence.

"Judging by its size, it's not quite an adult, meaning its mother must be close," Hunter comments as he crouches beside you, keeping his tone lower than yours.

"We should get out of here," you suggest, knowing that lingering around an overgrown infant will only result in you and Hunter being trampled to death.

Hunter nods in agreement, and automatically takes the lead, continuing along the treeline.

Before you know it, the Runyip is long gone, leaving you and Hunter to talk freely without any fear. "You did good," Hunter compliments as he comes to a stop, his hands automatically finding his hips as his body enters standby mode.

"I had a decent teacher," you say with a wink.

Hunter scoffs as he repeats your word, "decent," with a shake of his head. "Maybe if my student wasn't so stubborn, then she would learn faster."

"Oh, it's like that, is it?" you laugh, jabbing back at your snooty Sergeant.

The minor nod that Hunter makes means that he's smirking, it's just a shame his expression is hidden beneath his thick, plastoid helmet. "Easy, girl," Hunter tuts, with a tint of... something laced within his tone.

His tone isn't normally that deep, is it? Sure, it's often steady, calm, collected, a true military Sergeant through and through, but that tone was almost... lustful?

Your entire body tenses at his words, and only now do you curse your past self for not opting for a helmet when you were given the opportunity to. "I want you boys to be able to see my pretty face at all times!" you had jokingly explained, only for your smug expression to be burnt away after Hunter replied, "as if we could ever forget."

"So, are you going to behave now?" Hunter questions as he crosses his arms across his chest, his shoulders somehow appearing broader than they already are.

"I have been behaving," you scoff, matching his playful demeanour. You mock his stance, crossing your own arms, and puff your chest out ever so slightly. Sure, he's got some height on you, but you can easily bring him down a peg or two.

"Drop the attitude," Hunter orders with his military tone, before easing up, and returning to that alluring tone from moments ago. "I'm going to test you, alright?"

"Test?" you repeat, and raise a single brow. Using all your power, you attempt to ignore the sweat forming above your brow, and that chill running down your spine. Test...

Hunter slowly nods, "mhm," he hums. "You've learnt some light basics to do with tracking, and with that knowledge, you can also prevent yourself from being hunted."

"Oh," you sigh, and nervously bounce on your heels. "I see where this is going..."

Hunter nods again, and outstretches his palm as he asks, "go on?"

"You're going to show me exactly why they call you Hunter, right?" you groan, knowing that this is not going to end well. Sure, you can fight, and stay on the run, but it's never easy when an enemy is right on your tail, especially one whose forte is tracking others.

"Yep," Hunter confirms. "I'm going to hunt you."

Automatically, your thighs clench together, and you're certain that Hunter heard the heavy breath you let out. Hunt? Kriff, this isn't going to end well. No doubt, your Sergeant will realise what a freak you are, and the Batch will fly away, leaving you all alone on this jungle planet.

Well, that certainly is an exaggeration, but one that you're expecting to happen.

"Hunt?" you repeat with a single brow raised, ensuring that you two are on the same page.

Hunter slowly nods, and lets out a firm, "yes. Hunt."

"So, uh..." you trail off, and vaguely wave your hand as you attempt to find the right words. "What happens when you catch me? You gonna eat me?"

"Something like that," Hunter casually shrugs with a soft grin on his lips. "But you're not going to let me catch you, aren't you? You're a big girl, you'll manage just fine."

"Uh..." you sputter. Surely Hunter realises what he's doing, right?! There's no way that his choice of words are purely innocent.

Is he... flirting? Your Sergeant, flirting with you? Maker, no!

Unless...?

Hunter notices your uneasy stance, and rests his hands on his hips as he questions, "are you not up for the task? You're more than welcome to say no-"

"-No! No, it's fine..." you interrupt with a wave, eager to see how this will play out. "I'm fine... I just, don't really know how I'm going to keep up."

"We'll find out," Hunter states. "So, I'm going to give you a minute's head start. After that, I'll be right on your trail."

You bounce on your heels, eager to sprint for your life. There's only so much knowledge in that ditsy head of yours, and the main thing that is calling out to you, is to run and find somewhere to hide. If you're lucky, maybe, just maybe, Hunter will stroll past without noticing you.

Although, that's unlikely, given his advanced training, and years of experience in the field.

"Ready?" Hunter questions.

"Ready!" you agree with a firm nod. "Bye!" you shout, and take off running, disappearing into the dense jungle.

You're almost certain that you heard Hunter chuckle as he watched you run for your life. What? You're in a panic, and for some silly reason, you're eager to prove your worth.

Sure, you have strong points in other skill sets, but you're eager to show Hunter that his first lesson with you wasn't a total waste of time. Using your knowledge, you follow the stream, running up against the current. Perhaps it will break off soon, or lead to an area that you can hide in?

The further you go, the thicker the water runs. You can hear something heavy, crashing away, causing the ripples to tremble more and more. You soon find the cause - a waterfall! Ah, perfect!

A minute has passed, and no doubt, Hunter has begun. You have a slight advantage, knowing Hunter's strengths and weaknesses; one strength is his sense of smell, and from what you've learnt, you know that your scent can be washed away, or at least, muffled.

After grimacing at the water, you begrudgingly step in, wincing at the chill around your ankles. You submerge yourself up to your shins, and head towards the waterfall, eager to get this over and done with.

Stretching one hand out, you feel the pressure of the water, squinting your eyes as stray droplets meet your face. It's not too strong, safe enough for you to rinse your scent off. Your hand stretches out again, feeling the depth of the water, and you find that there is nothing behind it.

Hmm, a cave?

Time to get this over and done with. With a deep breath, and your eyes scrunched shut, you force your way through the water, biting back a screech as coldness washes over you. Quite literally.

Whilst the water hasn't completely soaked you, it's done more than enough damage, and hopefully, it's masked your scent. Your hands come up to wipe excess water off your face, and after a few heavy blinks, your sight comes into focus.

Oh, you were right! There is a cave back here!

You move up the ledge, and take a moment to shake yourself dry, or as dry as you can get. The weight of your clothing isn't unbearable, but it's certainly going to slow you down. "Kriff," you grunt as you take a seat, and begin pulling off your boots. Puddles of water flow from them as you tip them upside down, and give them a shake in an attempt to dry them off as much as possible.

After letting out another deep breath, you decide that this is a suitable hiding place. There's enough light peeking through the water so you're not in total darkness, although the eerie tunnel sitting behind you isn't helping relax your nerves.

Your focus is put on fastening your boots up, leaving you unarmed for a few moments. Unbeknownst to you, a certain someone is far more skilled than you ever thought, and has you in his sights.

Hunter is looming at the edge of the waterfall, watching you through the cracks in the water. He smiles to himself, admiring the face you're pulling whilst double-knotting your laces, as focused as you can be. Perhaps Crosshair was right - Hunter is growing soft on you, but Maker forbid he ever admits that!

Your hands come to rest around your knees, tucked up against your chin. You're not exactly cold, but you're not warm, either. Curse your stupid idea to get yourself soaked, although you should dry up when you're back in the open, surrounded by the humid jungle air.

Looking up, you focus on the water, admiring the way that it dances as it falls. The perfect opportunity has presented itself - you're distracted, and finally, Hunter can sneak in unannounced, and quite literally pounce on you.

The scream that you let out is certainly heard back at the Marauder! "Kriff," you hiss as you realise who has their grasp on you, none other than your Sergeant!

"That was easy," Hunter smugly states as he pins you down on the cave floor, his hands on your shoulders, and his body looming over yours. If his helmet were off, you'd wipe that smug expression off his face. Instead, you're somewhat thankful that you can't see his gaze, knowing that you'd blush within an instant.

"Don't get cocky," you huff, feeling rather disappointed that you didn't last longer. "How did you find me?"

"I spent some time watching you pluck up the courage to dip through the waterfall," Hunter explains with a chuckle as he slowly removes himself from your grasp, sitting back and offering you a hand upright. "Got to be quicker next time, girl."

"You're a scoundrel," you curse, "and a pretty bland teacher."

"Bland?" Hunter repeats with a light stutter, and a swift shake of his head. "Are you certain you're not talking about yourself?"

You let out a synthetic gasp, acting shocked at Hunter's playful insult. Rather than throwing one back at him, you decide to throw yourself at him instead - quite literally. You pounce on Hunter, reminding him of your strong points. Tracking may not be your forte, but fighting definitely is!

Hunter lets out a laugh as he allows you to wrestle him to the ground, his helmet being knocked off in the process. Cinnamon brown eyes finally meet yours, laced with a playful glisten, and there's a warm glow to Hunter's tanned cheeks as he smiles at you. "Careful," Hunter smirks as he looks up at you, pinned beneath your weight. "Wouldn't want you to get ahead of yourself," he bites.

Before you can even muster another witty reply, Hunter has flipped your bodies, now pinning you beneath him. Thick curls brush against your jawline as you playfully fight, trying to push his weight off, but it's no use. Hunter's hands find your wrists, and before you know it, he has your wrists pinned above your head, and is straddling your hips in a way that prevents you from quite literally kicking up a fuss.

"Ugh," you groan, and meet his flirtatious gaze. "Go easy on me, Sarge," you demand, to which Hunter softly laughs, and to your surprise, eases up.

"Why? Can't handle it?" Hunter smirks.

Kriff. Alright. He's flirting, isn't he? The banter, his expression, the play fighting - all common symptoms of two idiots who refuse to confess their attraction to one another.

The ball is in your court, and now that Hunter has physically eased up on you, you're able to switch the tables once more, and pin him down to the floor. However, whilst fighting for your life, you don't consider the position that you're in - quite literally - and before you know it, you're straddling his crotch, with your hands pressed on his armoured chest.

To both of your surprise, Hunter lets out a soft huff, a sound that you've never heard before. It seems that Hunter hasn't either, as his eyes widen, and his chest rises and falls nervously, pressed beneath your palms.

Silence fills the air, minus the crashing waves of the waterfall, and the occasional deep breath, exhausted from your play fighting. Hunter is gawking at you, calculating his next move, deciding on where he wants to take this - or better yet, where you'll allow him to take it.

Finally, his outstretched hands move from the dirt, and large palms dig into the curve of your hips. Warmth flows over your body, and you fight the urge to peel all your layers of clothing off as Hunter's thumbs begin subconsciously stroking back and forth.

Hunter calls out your name, and when your eyes are on his, he mutters, "I don't know what you're doing to me."

"Uh..." you apologetically stutter, and automatically begin easing up off him.

"No-" Hunter exhales, and holds you firmly against him. "I mean... in a good way," he tries to explain, but words fail him.

Your body attempts to relax, but it's understandably hard to when you're straddling your Sergeant after a heated play fight. "Care to explain?" you suggest with trembling breaths, finding it hard to calm your nervous expression.

Hunter firmly nods. "You..." he plainly states, and has to pause to think about his wording. "You're a distraction," Hunter mumbles again.

Oh, he is so good with words!

"To... our lessons?" you wince.

Hunter shakes his head softly, laughing at his mess of confession. "Yes, but I mean... in general. I, uh..." he stutters again. Hunter gulps, and licks his lips before returning his focus to you. "It's so hard to be in your presence... in a good way, I mean! I'm able to tune out distractions, but you? Heh, that's impossible."

Oh.

Hunter's pupils are wide, gazing up at you, awaiting your reply. His curls are fanned out perfectly over his shoulders and the cave floor, barely scruffed up from your banter. It's as if he was sculpted by the Gods, unable to look 'bad', no matter how rugged and ruined he seems.

However, a man of such beauty grows impatient, and removes his hands from your hips in fear that you're about to reject him.

"No-" you hiss as you place them back. Your mouth opens and closes multiple times, fighting the urge to spill out your confession, but how can you word such a thing?

Instead, you resort to your natural urges, and fumble as you press your lips down against your Sergeant's. Hunter lets out a soft "mhm!" as he comes to terms with what is going on, before relaxing, and kissing you back.

The ice has finally broken, and all it took was one moment alone together - a rarity around the Batch. You're kissing your Sergeant... your Sergeant, who has a needy grip on your hips, and is even more eager to slip his tongue into your mouth.

The hands on your hips wander along your body, soon pressing your chest to his, finding a comfortable position to snuggle up together. You didn't even realise you were slowly grinding your lips until Hunter breaks the kiss with a soft mewl. Blown, auburn eyes meet yours, along with deep and rosy cheeks, and a silent expression that states, "we're going to be here for a while."

Hunter glosses over your expression, and lets out a soft sigh before asking, "is this okay?" as he hooks his fingertips into the waistband of your pants.

"Yes," you coo with a nod. "Is this?" you repeat as your fingertips find the fastenings to his cod piece, dancing over them, but not removing them.

"Please," Hunter responds with a swift nod.

You two sync up with each other, moving so gracefully, peeling each layer off in between kisses and sweet compliments. "You're so beautiful," Hunter says in a deep and desirable tone as he pulls your shirt off, leaving you in your underwear. "May I?" he questions, his thumbs ghosting over your nipples, blocked by the thick fabric.

You eagerly nod as you let out a, "yes," in a tone that could be considered desperate.

The warmth from Hunter's hands cause you to shiver, such a contrast in comparison to your damp state. Thank the Maker that Hunter has been thoughtful with your clothes, lying them out to dry, rather than bunching them up in an unforgotten pile.

His lips are cold, at first, wrapped deliciously around your nipple, until the warmth from his mouth joins the rest. Hunter switches between your breasts, always fondling with whichever one his mouth is leaving unattended, eager to ensure that you're constantly feeling wanted and desired.

The back of your head gently meets the cave floor, and Hunter is practically on top of you, devouring you piece by piece. He lets out a deep groan as he adjusts his stance, and automatically, his crotch finds yours. This time, you're the one letting out a groan as Hunter ruts his hard member against your panties, his under armour barely keeping his length covered.

"This needs to come off," you whimper as you pull on Hunter's under armour, tugging the fabric on his shoulder.

"Does it?" Hunter chuckles with a raised brow.

You frown, and Hunter laughs once more as he replies, "I suppose it does..."

He reluctantly pulls away, and you watch in awe as Hunter frees himself, tugging his shirt up and over his torso, before shuffling out of his pants. To your surprise, Hunter isn't wearing boxers, and you're unsure if that's down to the garment feeling rough due to his heightened senses, or he really is one of those people.

Regardless, the sensation of Hunter gliding his erect cock against your clothed mound is one that you'll forever treasure, along with the groan that he makes before locking his lips with yours. "Your turn," he mutters as his fingertips find the waistband of your panties, and he pulls them off in a swift, yet elegant motion.

"Maker," Hunter groans as he gazes down at you, now fully bare. You instinctively go to cover yourself up, and Hunter swats your hand away, clicking his tongue in a scolding tone. "Don't you dare," he threatens as he pins your hands to either side of your head. "I want to take in all of you," he groans, and repeats, "all of you."

Hunter's lips find your neck, and you watch through half-lidded eyes as he makes his way down your body, ensuring to kiss as much of you as possible. His hands gradually remove themselves from your wrists, only for your fingers to intertwined with his locks when he begins kissing over the curve of your hips.

Needless to say, his hair is gorgeous, and the noise he makes when you tug softly on his curls? Perfect!

But Hunter swiftly regains the upper hand, and this time, you're the one letting out elegant sounds as he introduces his lips to your lower ones. Large, calloused hands begin prying your thighs open, his biceps flexing as he holds you in place.

His stubble is the perfect amount, not too prickly, soft enough to show its presence against your sensitive inner thighs. His mouth, however, is certain and confident, lapping you up as if you're his last meal, running his tongue over your folds before gently sucking your clit.

"Hunter-" you whimper, your voice barely audible against the crashing of the waterfall. Hunter hardly reacts, other than a soft hum, so you turn up the heat by moaning, "Sarge."

Hunter groans against your folds, his hips instinctively grind against nothing. Finally, auburn eyes gaze open to look up at you, full of lust and want. He removes his lips from yours, and his breath is hot against your damp core. "Call me that again, and I'll ensure that your walk back to the Marauder is sore," he promises.

You let out a soft laugh, a smug grin remaining on your lips, "I do apologise, Sergeant."

Hunter practically growls as he moves up your body to lock his lips with yours, your taste lingering on his tongue. "You're playing a dangerous game, mesh'la," he says with a soft laugh.

"Play along with me?" you coo. Your hand slips down between your bodies to find his erect cock, and Hunter's mind instantly wipes blank as you gently pump it, before guiding it between your legs.

Hunter doesn't respond verbally, instead, he gently pushes his hips forward, moaning with you as his cock slowly slides into your heat. Thick, soft curls dance along your shoulder as Hunter rests his head there, groaning against your skin as he bottoms out. His muscles are flexing beneath your palms, his body fighting between the urges to hold back and be steady, or pound you into oblivion.

"Kriff-" you find yourself swearing. "H-Hunter, you're so..."

"I know," Hunter murmurs, and plants a tender kiss to your forehead. "But you're going to be a good girl for your Sergeant, and take it, hm?"

The look in his eyes is something that you never want to fade. He's drunk on you, enticed with everything you have to offer, and little does he know, you have so much to give. "Yes, Sir," you agree with a gentle nod.

Hunter lets out a light hum as he props himself upright, finding a comfortable position above your body. He barely finishes praising, "good girl," before beginning his thrusts, slamming into you at a quick and heated pace.

There's a smug grin on his lips, oh-so-happy about the sudden moan that you let out - a moan that has gradually faded into softer, steadier ones, now matching Hunter's light grunts.

Minus the verbal expressions, the thundering crash of the waterfall covers up the echoes of skin against skin, not that anybody is close enough to overhear you two. Oh, no, you're out in the middle of a jungle, perfectly hidden from prying eyes. The only things you two need to be cautious about is how you present yourselves when back on the Marauder, but given the forming bruises on each of your necks, the Batch will swiftly come to realise what's happened in their absence.

To your surprise, Hunter's hips come to a halt, and his hands slip down your body to weave their way beneath you. You find your lower half being pulled ever-so-slightly upwards, angling your hips in such a way that, when Hunter begins thrusting again, you're quite literally seeing stars.

"Karking hell," you mutter, your lips remaining open as your chest rises and falls with excitement.

"Good position, huh?" Hunter questions, followed with a cocky laugh.You don't need to verbally reply - a simple nod is more than enough to confirm that being folded in half is doing wonders for your pleasure, despite the knowledge that you're definitely going to need help walking back to the Marauder. Achieving orgasm isn't going to take much else, despite the fact that you're enjoying the ride.

"Go on," Hunter states with a gentle nod. "Touch yourself for me."

You blurt out, "yes, Sir," before removing a hand from Hunter's bicep to slip down your body, finding your clit and rubbing tenderly. The sight causes Hunter to groan, and you can tell that he's torn between wanting to watch you play with yourself, and wanting to watch your expression change with every thrust.

"Ladies first," Hunter smirks, but his expression is briskly swept away when you flex around his cock, totally knocking him off course. You know exactly what he wants, but you're praying that his chivalrous persona slips off when the time comes.

A few more flicks of your fingertips, and you're practically sobbing as you orgasm, the sight and sounds turning Hunter into putty. He stutters, both physically and verbally, his hips struggling to keep up a steady pace, and he turns into mush as such a sight. You, the woman of his dreams, the woman that he's been secretly pining after for kriff knows how long, is mewling and moaning as she orgasms on his cock. Yeah, how can he prevent himself from crumbling at such a thing?

Hunter presses his forehead to yours as he lets out a series of deep breaths, filling you up with shallow and out-of-pace thrusts. His eyes scrunch shut, and a firm, but gentle hand finds yours, entwining your fingers together - a calming and tender gesture during a frantic series of emotions.

When Hunter has finally recovered, he lets you know by finding your lips, and smothering you with a series of tender, yet lustful kisses. "Thank you," he mutters against your lips, and you break the kiss to ask, "for what?"

To both of your surprise, Hunter pauses, his eyes drifting into the distance, before focusing back on you. "I... I don't know," he says with a shrug.

"Hm," you ponder. You push your body upwards, resting on your elbows, which gives you the perfect position to plant another kiss on Hunter's almost-swollen lips. "I understand," you coo.

Hunter softly exhales, and finally decides to remove himself from you. He lets out a pained groan, the type that a grumpy old man lets out when he rises from his chair, rarely on his own terms. Hunter rolls onto his back besides you, and automatically, his hand comes to rest on your thigh, his thumb stroking back and forth subconsciously.

Silence fills the air, but it's not the awkward kind. The first person to break it is you, letting out a soft laugh that causes Hunter to perk his ears up, and question, "what?"

"I can't believe we did it," you confess.

Hunter turns to face you, and his expression soon matches your own as he chuckles along, a twinkle in his eyes. "That was some tracking lesson, huh?" he sarcastically comments.

"What can I say?" you shrug, "I had a good teacher."

A bewildered expression looms over Hunter's face before he bursts out laughing again, rolling onto his side to plant a series of kisses along your cheek and shoulder. You can't help but return the favour, and soon pull his head down for a searing kiss, so full of lust that you're tempted to go again, if it wasn't for the ache over your body, seeing as you've been lying on a rocky cave floor for the past half an hour.

But until your Sergeant decides to make a move, you're happy staying here. Hunter seems rather happy too, one arm propping his weight up, whilst a warm hand roams over your bare body, kneading and grabbing at every single part of you, almost as if he's silently confirming that yes, you really are here.

The only thing that you two need to worry about is how the others will act when you both come limping back to the Marauder, and given how Hunter's comm is silently flashing - muted during his hunt - it seems that you'll soon be facing their teasing comments and disappointed glances.

Oh well!

[streamafterlaughter]

Fundamental Differing

gif credit

masterlist | playlist | chapter vi

Chapter VII: Soft But Estranged

summary: an off day on tour doesn’t mean an off day for partying! The entire touring family heads out for what’s supposed to be a fun night off on the Vegas Strip.

tags/warnings: so much angst it’s gross, mutual pining, rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, slow burn, hurt/slight comfort, pining, longing, break up, excessive drinking

a/n: i’m turning up the dial on this fic to 11. angst to the max. no fluff all pain. torture. enjoy! Disclaimer: I do not give permission to have my work reposted on other sites. Reblogs are more than welcome, but please inform me if you find my work elsewhere unless otherwise stated. Reblog to support the author!

——

October 1989

“Oh, honey, come here.” Robin pulls you into a tight hug, letting you sob and snot into her shoulder. It’s three in the morning, and you’ve been drinking yourself into a stupor. You left Eddie a week ago, and haven’t been able to breathe right since. Seeing the video for The Crawl on MTV this morning sent you into a dizzying depression, remembering the days when Eddie would sit at the kitchen table trying to put the chords together. You wished you were with him, on tour, greeting him with kisses after every set. But he left for tour yesterday without telling you, and you only found out when Dustin asked why you weren’t with him. You hadn’t had the heart to tell him you’d broken up with him, so Steve had to break the news.

“I just don’t get it. Why didn’t he try harder? Why didn’t he fight for us?” You weep into the fabric of Robin’s shirt as she rubs your back in soothing circles.

“I don’t know, love, but he’s a fucking idiot.”

Present day

Your POV

Your issue of SPIN comes out today, and your heart is slamming in your chest in line to check out. In your hands is a copy of the magazine, a picture of Corroded Coffin plastered across the cover. Eddie’s eyes seem to glare even from the glossy paper, his arms crossed over his bare chest while the rest of his bandmates stand behind him, looking equally stoic. In the top corner of the page reads, Femme Punk Takeover: An Interview with Death Dance Approximately. You read the words over and over, refusing to spoil the spread for yourself until you’re alone and safe to scream with your friends about it.

Once you exit the store, magazine clutched in your hand, you speed walk back to the hotel you’re staying in. Today is your off day, but tomorrow you play a show on the one and only Las Vegas Strip. Your plans include celebrating the magazine spread by drinking yourselves silly.

Back in your hotel room, you kick your shoes off and fling yourself onto the bed. Robin’s out shopping with Steve, and Sylvie and Lilith are getting lunch, so you have the afternoon to yourself. Instead of diving right into your own spread, you curiously turn the pages until you find the Corroded Coffin interview. It spans four full pages, including photographs and quotes in bold, big lettering. You swear to yourself you’ll only skim, but that promise is quickly broken when you read the first sentence.

Kings of Rock, Corroded Coffin, sit uncomfortably in their folding director-esque chairs, as if sitting for an interview is the least punk thing they could be doing. Their frontman fidgets with his gleaming silver rings, his lips pressed together in concentration or annoyance.

Jessie Stevens: So, on your new album Freak Show, there’s a song titled Sweetheart. It’s far different from the rest of the tracks, a calming break before the climax of Severed Thumb and Wiped Clean. What influenced this mood change?

Eddie Munson: Sweetheart is about someone that was once very close to me. It’s about love and loss, and a whole shit ton of heartbreak, and the one person that never made me feel like, the freak, y’know?

J: Do you still talk to this person?

The frontman’s face falls a little, like he’s reminded of something upsetting.

E: It’s… complicated.

You roll your eyes. It’s not complicated, the answer is a firm no. You and Eddie don’t talk, not more than you’re forced to. You continue scanning the article, until you find something else that catches your eye.

J: You’re currently touring with Death Dance Approximately, who are quickly moving up in the world of rock. What advice would you give them as seasoned rockstars?

Munson pauses, looking at his bandmates with a question in his eyes.

E: I guess I’d tell them never to let go of themselves. I lost myself for a while, honestly I’m still pretty lost. The industry is brutal, it takes so much of your soul away from you, and if I could go back and tell myself one thing, it would be not to let go of who I was. I miss that person.

You read Eddie’s answer, over and over, your eyes stinging. You miss who Eddie was, before signing, before giving in to fame and attention the way he has. Desperately, you want to believe that sweet boy is still in there somewhere. You think he is, after the events of last night, but you’re not sure how to yank him out of the steel shell he’s built around himself.

Further down, one more thing catches your attention.

J: Do you wish you’d done anything differently? Whether it be in your career, or in your life outside of it?

E: I wish I fought harder for my people. I lost someone I loved so much. I let them walk out of my life without any objection. I wish so badly that I could’ve made them stay, but… It was too late. I’ll never know now. I’ll never get to fix it.

Munson’s bandmates look to each other knowingly, clearly aware that the mysterious person he speaks of is the reason for his sour mood.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” It’s barely a whisper, despite no one being in the room with you. All he had to do was ask, and you’d tell him everything. Why you left, what would’ve made you stay, but he’d rather tell the whole world he fucked up than just apologize to you.

—

Eddie’s POV

His copy of SPIN lay open in his lap as he reads the Death Dance interview. His bandmates are god knows where, enjoying their day off while Eddie mopes in his hotel room.

J: How do you guys feel about touring with one of the biggest names in rock?

Eddie rolls his eyes at the question, knowing you probably hated hearing his band brought up in your interview.

Y: I mean, we knew them growing up. It’s really cool to see them all again, and we’re honored to tour with them.

Eddie’s surprised you’d even mention knowing him at this point, it makes his heart beat a little faster.

J: You know Corroded Coffin?

Y: Yeah! I moved to Hawkins my senior year, where I met Robin, and they were all seniors. We played DnD together, made music together. We lost touch after high school, but the world is so small.

J: Is that what Indiana is about?

Y: In some respects, yeah. Indiana was a huge change from where I grew up in Boston, a much smaller, more conservative place for sure.

Eddie puts the magazine down, and reaches for his CD player. He skips to track 5, and closes his eyes as the guitars wail in his ears. He only knows parts of the song, from hearing it live when he can stomach watching your set, but somehow it feels like listening for the first time.

I’m from a city where no one knows each other / where we walk down streets avoiding eyes and shoving by / and when I moved to Indiana, I began to understand why / I wasn’t meant for smaller towns, where everyone knows my name, / but you had been there, my saving grace, / and now I miss the comfort. / I miss the sounds of singing birds, and the crackle of a fire. / I moved back to the city, and though it’s pretty, / it’s no longer what I know. / Indiana wasn’t home, but I found my home there / In the warmth of your eyes and the smell of your hair / I let myself believe I could make my life here / and when I lost you, I lost everything. / Indiana wasn’t home, but I found my home there. Indiana wasn’t home, and I lost my home there.

He plays the song four times before he can bring himself to breathe right again. Eddie can hear your heart breaking through your voice, the way it cracks on the chorus, the way you belt the final verse. All at once, he understands why you left, why you felt you had no choice. He was drowning in the pressure of being famous, leaving you behind to watch him from the shadows.

—

Your POV

You finally throw the magazine down, and rush to shower and get ready to go out. Tonight is your night off, a night to relax and not think about the boy across the hall. It’s easier said than done, though, as your mind keeps wandering to that final paragraph. I’ll never know now. I’ll never get to fix it. All he had to do was ask. You’d tell him everything; why you left, what could have gotten you to stay. But he’s been so cold, so distant with you, and you can’t really blame him. It’s just as difficult for you to be on tour with him, but you’re still trying to be mature about it.

Your spiral is disturbed by a knock on your door. You clip your earrings in and rush to answer it, smoothing your shirt to make sure you’re presentable. You open the door to Robin and Steve, their arms linked together like best friends on the playground. Both of them are dressed up, Steve in a button down and black slacks, Robin in sequined overalls that scream Vegas! They greet you with gleaming smiles, and you move aside to let them in.

“I’m almost ready! Any idea where we’re going?” You ask them both before pulling your lipstick out of your bag.

“We’re taking the strip by storm! It’s a group outing, everyone’s coming!” Robin claps her hands together

“Everyone?” You quirk an eyebrow, looking at her in the mirror.

She bites her lip and glances at Steve, who only shrugs. “Yeah, Gareth and Jeff overheard us planning, and we figured some bonding was in order. But don’t worry! We can separate when we get there.”

You smack your lips together and shrug. “It’s not me you have to worry about.” You turn to face them, extending your arms to present your glammed up self. “How do I look?”

“Like you’re gonna rip Eddie’s soul out of his bod— Ow!” Steve rubs where Robin has elbowed his arm. “You look beautiful.” He recovers, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Let’s get goin’ then!” Robin heaves herself off the bed, and you hold the door for her and Steve, following them out the door.

—

The casinos are the most insane thing you’ve ever experienced. The bright lights almost blind you, and the sounds of slot machines are so loud you can’t hear yourself think. It’s no wonder no one wins these things, it’s impossible to concentrate.

“C’mon!” Sylvie grabs hold of your wrist, leading you and your bandmates to the blackjack table. You glance behind you, sending a help me look to Steve, who shrugs in defeat as he follows Eddie and Jeff to the bar.

“Robin, I don’t know how to play!” You object, but she’s already sitting in a free stool by the dealer.

“No worries, babe, this is all on me. I just want you all to watch me win!” She’s buzzed, having gulped her champagne down in the car on the way here. You giggle at her confidence, knowing damn well she also has no idea how to gamble.

“Whatever you do, don’t bet our royalties.” Lilith nudges her, hiccuping on her own bubbly.

“Yeah, yeah. Hit me!” She slaps the table, and the dealer smirks like he knows he’s about to watch Robin lose all of her disposable income.

—

Eddie’s POV

“Whiskey, neat.” He orders his drink, flopping down on an empty stool. Steve sits next to him, while Jeff orders drinks for himself and Gareth. “Come hang out, man!” Jeff calls when he receives his drinks, already walking to the table his bandmates sit at with yours. Eddie nods a response, nursing his drink.

“You gotta at least try to enjoy yourself tonight.” Steve says, taking a sip of what looks like fruit punch.

“I am enjoying myself, Steven” Eddie holds up his whiskey, as if to prove the point. Steve glares at him, and Eddie takes a swig. “What?”

“You’re moping! You’re a famous rockstar on a cross country tour, and you’re moping. Had I known you were gonna be a drama queen this whole time I would’ve brought a goddamn book to read.”

Eddie groans, taking another sip. “I know, I know. I’m miserable.”

“You need to talk to them.” Steve says bluntly, not looking at Eddie.

“Why would I do that?”

“I know you want to.”

“I do not!”

Steve snorts, and Eddie presses his lips together in annoyance. “You read that interview, right?” Eddie nods. “So you know they talk about you now. You’re on their mind. You listen to the song they mentioned?” He nods again. “So you still care about what they have to say. What’s stopping you? Why are you so fucking scared?”

Eddie turns in his chair, back to where your band sits at the table, anxiously watching as Robin plays another round. Your face is pink, caused by the alcohol or the warmth of the building. Your shirt hugs your frame tightly, accentuating your features. You lift a glass of champagne to your lips, pinky extended, leaving a smear of red lipstick on the rim of the glass. Your eyes sparkle with excitement as your friends cheer Robin on. You have a happy glow to you, and it takes everything inside of Eddie to rip his eyes away. “What’s stopping me is the fact that they deserve better.” Eddie grumbles, gulping the rest of his liquor down and calling the bartender over. “I don’t want to ruin this for them. I’m already here, and that can’t be easy. I want them to enjoy this experience, I don’t want to intrude on it.”

“So, what, you’re just gonna drink yourself to death every time we have an outing? You think that isn’t causing them any distress? Your liver is gonna deteriorate soon, man. May wanna figure out a different strategy.”

“Will you get off my ass about drinking, Harrington? It’s rich, coming from the kid that shotgunned like sixty beers a week his freshman year of high school.”

Steve chuckles, and Eddie can’t hide the grin creeping onto his face. “Fair enough. But that was high school. I didn’t have a billion fans relying on me not to die of alcohol poisoning.”

“Nah, just the six hundred Hawkins High students. Big whoop!” Eddie emphasizes his point with a show of jazz hands. “Either way. If I’m gonna talk to them, I’m gonna be drunk when I do it.” Eddie gulps down his second drink in one go, feeling the effects of the alcohol starting to kick in.

“Whatever, dude. You wanna go play some cards?” Steve offers his hand, and Eddie takes it begrudgingly, yanking himself away from the bar and into the mass of the crowded casino. He’s forced to squeeze by you, apologizing under his breath as he brushes against your back, sidestepping between the tables. You don’t seem to notice. He takes his place next to Gareth, and Steve stands firmly between him and you, a bridge neither of you dare to cross. Eddie feels your eyes on him, and it takes everything inside of him not to look back. Instead, he’s dealt into the next hand, planning only to play one round as a distraction from your presence. The waiter drops off another round of drinks, and Eddie slaps his palm on the table. “Deal me in.”

—

“Okay, that’s enough!” Steve yanks on an objecting Eddie’s arm, hauling him away from the table. He’s already lost a good chunk of change, both at the table and to the expensive drinks he’s been gulping down. Despite his objections, Steve manages to drag Eddie out of the casino unscathed.

“Here,” Steve sticks a cigarette between Eddie’s lips and lights it for him. “Sober up a little.”

Eddie plucks the lit stick from his mouth and exhales, the cool night air bathing his warm face.

“Where,” Eddie’s eyes are glassy, his vision blurring as he takes in his surroundings.

“We’re outside the casino. Waiting for the car.” Steve lights a cigarette for himself, inhaling as Eddie does the same.

“Where’s Y/n?” He realizes suddenly that he hasn’t seen you in hours.

“Back at the hotel. They left a while ago, but you didn’t want to get up. Sometime around your fourth hand, when you accused the dealer of cheating.” Eddie looks down at his feet, seeing four of them, and hums in response. “They told me to make sure I get you home safe.”

He looks back up to his friend, cautiously optimistic. “They said that?”

Steve nods, a smirk on his face. “Told me they’d kick my ass if anything happened to you. So I’m keeping my promise.” The car pulls up, and Steve opens the door for Eddie. “C’mon, in ya go.”

Eddie lets his eyes slip closed as the car starts moving, promising himself he won’t throw up on Steve. He thinks of all the ways he could possibly tell you he’s sorry, how he could start to mend the wounds he’s caused you. He’s going to, he decides, as soon as he can manage to walk on his own.

—

Your POV

There’s a banging on your hotel room as you’re clawing your way out of your clothes. You pull your big t-shirt on, pause Breaking The Girl, and rush to answer it. You’re expecting room service with some wine, or Steve with tomorrow’s game plan. “Coming!” You call, finally opening the door, only to be greeted by Eddie’s wobbly figure. “Oh. Hi.” You look at his nose as you speak, afraid of what would happen if your eyes were to meet his. His face is flushed from the drinking, his eyes glazed over and his hair frizzy.

“Hi. Bad time?” He looks you up and down, causing your cheeks to warm despite your blood running cold. You realize now that the shirt you’re wearing is one that once belonged to him. “I’ll, uh, go. I can um… I’ll come back later.” His speech is slurring, and you can smell the alcohol as he speaks.

“No!” You say, too quickly. “It’s okay, I’m just getting ready for bed. You wanna come in?”

Eddie hesitates, but you step aside to let him enter. He stumbles forward, placing himself gingerly in the chair across from the bed, where you sit across from him, acutely aware of your current pantsless state. “I read the interview.” Eddie starts, looking at the floor. You cross one leg over the other, waiting for him to continue. “And I’ve been listening to the album. Your album, I mean. It’s great, by the way, really fucking great.” He won’t look at you, instead focused on fiddling with his rings. You don’t respond, unsure where he’s going. “I came to say I’m sorry.”

Your eyes widen. This was the furthest thing from what you were expecting. “For what?”

Eddie slides further into the chair. “Everything. I’ve been such an asshole since the tour started. Especially to you. I wanna say I didn’t mean it, but I did. I wanted to hurt you. Flirting with all those girls, playing that fuckin’ song in front of you. I meant all of it.”

You bite your lip, unsure of how to respond. You doubt Eddie will even remember this conversation tomorrow, so you refuse to let his words convince you of anything. You don’t answer, just blink at him as he continues searching for the words to explain himself.

“I was trying to ignore it, I guess. How I felt about seeing you again. I was hiding it, and probably really poorly. I can't imagine it’s been easy for you, either, but you seem so happy. And it’s made me realize how horrible I’ve been.” He looks up from the floor then, his eyes searching yours for an answer. His face is flushed, his hair disheveled, and his lips are set in the pout that always got your heart stalling.

You clear your throat quickly, knowing it will crack under the pressure otherwise. “Eddie, it’s not your fault. You didn’t force this tour to happen. It’s an unfortunate coincidence.” He winces at your words, and you rush to correct yourself. “I mean, we didn’t know we’d see each other like this. We weren’t prepared. The way you’ve been acting, though hurtful, is completely understandable.” You want to cry. You want to throw Eddie out of your hotel room so you can sob into your pillow. But you don’t move, and neither does he.

“Why’d you leave?” He asks after a long moment of silence. “What happened to us?”

You know he’s drunk, and you shouldn’t be indulging him, but you’ve wanted to say so much to him since breaking it off, and you’re still a bit tipsy. “I was losing you. To groupies, to the label, to whatever you had become, and I didn’t think it was fair to fight it. This is all you’ve ever wanted, all we ever talked about when we were together. And you got it! The only thing you ever wanted. And I am beyond proud of you, Eddie. Who was I to pull you away from it? I couldn’t hold you back from this, but I couldn’t live in the background either. I couldn’t make you choose between me and your dream, so I chose for you.” Your voice falters as you explain, eyes threatening to spill the tears they harbor. “You deserve everything you ever want, Ed. I truly believe that.” You don’t tell him you still wish he wanted you.

Eddie is less than graceful in his response. “I would’ve chosen you. Over and over again, Y/n. I wish I hadn’t made you feel like you were my backup, my plan B. I lost sight of us, I know that now.” You sigh, your heart breaking as he speaks. Years ago, it’s all you wanted to hear. But it’s too little, too late now. “It got to my head, having you and getting signed. I felt like I could have it all. It got overwhelming, and I didn’t realize what I was doing to you. You were right to leave, and I’m so sorry it took me this long to figure it out. I blamed you for my misery when I caused all of it myself.”

You get up from the bed, and approach Eddie, kneeling beside the chair so he’s forced to look at you. “I appreciate the apology, Ed. I know you mean it. But I needed to leave for my own sake, too. I couldn’t keep competing with you, with all of the attention you were getting. I needed to focus on my own dreams, and I couldn’t convince you to root for me the way I had for you. Now that I’m here, I’m glad it happened this way. I wouldn’t have gotten here any other way.” You rest your hand on his knee, and you feel a drop fall from his cheek onto your finger. “You’ll always be special to me. I need you to know that.”

Eddie nods, sniffling. You stand up and offer him your hand. He takes it hesitantly, and you feel the familiarity of his calloused fingers entwined with yours. You can’t bring yourself to let go as he gets to his feet, missing the way his skin feels on yours. “Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” You lead him out of your room and down the hall. “You got your key?”

Eddie clumsily pats his many pockets before finding his key card in his vest. He swipes it, and you pull him into the messy room, the bed unmade, empty beer bottles lining the nightstand and entertainment center. Eddie collapses onto the bed, and you get to work yanking his shoes off the way you used to after a long night out. He’s still in his jeans, but you don’t make a move to take them off. He’s not yours to take care of anymore, and if he wakes up uncomfortable, it’s not your problem. “Okay. Goodnight, Eddie.” You’re about to leave when you hear him whisper something. “What was that?” You don’t want to believe what you think you heard, but he says it again, clearer this time. “I’d still choose you.” You press your lips together, stifling your sobs as you close the door behind you. You can’t bring yourself to believe him.

—

chapter viii

taglist: @children-of-the-grave @five-bi-five @wiildflower-xxx @beebeerockknot @champagne-glamour @xxgothwhorexx @therensistance @chonkzombie @brxkenartt @sidthedollface2 @bibieddiesgf @gaysludge @eddiesguitarskills @littlepotatobeansworld | send a message to be added!

[nicolasnelson]

#userkatza → #tuserkit

hi, everyone! i've been wanting to use a more gender-neutral name for a while now so i'm gonna be trying out kit! hopefully it will be an easy transition since it's so similar to my name. we'll see!

anyways, i'm changing my tracked tag to #tuserkit so please use that tag from now on! i'll still be checking the old tag for a little while to give people time to adjust. let me know if you have any questions!

tagging some mutuals: 

@hunterwillow @miriammaisel @ughmerlin @arthurpendragonns @eddiediaaz @pearlcaddy @eddemunsn @shangs @ted-becca @candicepatton @genyazafin @archidrews @bellamyblakru @grahamlansings @candy-pants @theedorksinlove @natalia-dyer @alinaastarkov @angela-bassetts @madeline-kahn @iridescentides @carsonsofias @camboyces @hazelands @illbeyourreasonwhy @feuxx @sonyarebecchi @kazrietvelld @thebookluvrr1816 @danieljradcliffe @camelotsheart @onceandfuturehimbo @singinprincess @amarakaran @pranpats

[saetoshis]

CLOSING OUT THE YEAR!

[‹ A MUTUAL APPRECIATION POST ›]

[‹ ABOUT ›] i started this new blog in around september, and we already have over 1k followers and sooo many lovely mutuals from not only this account but my past one! and i adore you all SO MUCH, this is just me spewing my love and thoughts into one giant post 🤗 // if i forgot you PLEASE let me know and i'll add you :') i have soo many mutuals i need to keep track sobs!

[‹ EXTRAS ›] if you can, listen to the song! i just think it rlly ties into how i feel from a musical standpoint sob! im a music nerd excuse me ahksla

@kavehtion

MY SWEET VLYNN ! i not only adore your writing but also your formatting, it's so pleasing to the eye :') i find your energy soothing and bright - your confidence radiates to me and i always absolutely adore seeing you on dash! we don't interact too much but i hope we can more in the future :)

@heartnagi

LOLA LOLA LOLA BABY ! you've been here since diaphanoso snifle i adore you sooo much ! everything you post i go "that's so real" in my head, i adore your creativity and you have such a strong sense of morals which i admire :') i'm soo glad to have gotten close to u ! let's keep thirsting over aether and each other more next year ehehe

@zorotits

LINAAA even tho we are new moots i literally love ur energy on dash.. it's kinda bright and chaotic and SOO funny ! your theme actually makes me wanna take a bite out of ur acc if that makes sense jaksdla BUT i legit adore your energy (esp in tags omfg they make me die) and hope we can interact n thirst sooo much more next year :)

@touyyes

BAKI OMGFGKJF baki i stg. you make me LOSE MY MIND every time you post.. it's either making me choke from laughing so hard or actually dying from the MM M MM OH SO YUMMY thirsts ! you had me at toji n i was like i have to follow RN. BUT STOP i adore ur energy it's like bright chaos it makes me feel SOOO FULL OF GOOD ENERGY :) let's thirst over toji in jjk s2 next year :P

@dilu3

MY SWEET LALAA ! your fics literally bring me to my KNEESSS i adore the way you write especially bachira, n you're always putting me on to new chars and animes like hellsing :') i love your creativity and how you're always thinking of creative blog names n themes i adore them all !! gimme even more chars to thirst over in 2023 :)

@510hz

ARES i dont think u understand how much i adore seeing u on dash like. even the controversial posts i'm like "stop thats so real" like everything u say i agree with. the energy is like.. chaotic chill I LOVE IT it feeds my soul :') i cant wait for more moshares interactions n maybe irl eheheheh :)

@hystix

cadie dont get me started. HALAHAKAKA i literally love u like i am in love w you :') you're my bright lil light on dash n i swear when i see u in notifs im like "I CAUGHT U !" you're such a like.. precious soul to me i just wanna hug u snifle !! you remind me of warm hugs yesyes that is ur energy to me!! my sweet cadie snifle I MUST SEE U MORE ON GENSHIN N DASH NEXT YEAR :)

@tinie

ARLO ! SOGLO ! BUNLO ! omgongog you might not know but i swear u have an influence on me ! your energy is so like .. calm but attractive if that makes sense snifle ! the 'nodnodnod' n use of 'soggy' has captured me i swear ! now im always saying soggy ! but i rlly love seeing u on dash n ur like.. my biggest scara association if that makes sense ! i wanna see evennn more scarlomouche all 2023 :')

@nymphoheretic

MY BABY MY WIFE my BEAAAUTIFUL WIFE ! nymph / kk / kirei my absolute babe. my beloved since diaphanoso .. my biggest kyo n gyo n tengen thirst partner ehehe ! your energy is like omgog warm and chaotic I ADORE U ! every time i rewatch kny n see kyo im like 'yeah that's my wife's man' ehehekekej I HOPE TO THIRST OVER KNY EVENNN MORE WITH U ! one day ill finish bleach n catch up to all ur faves :)

@blueparadis

PARADIS ! omgomg i swear we haven't interacted much sobs BUT I WANNA MORE ! you give me suuuch calm sweet energy on dash :') I ALWAYS ADOREEE your formatting your brain is just like WHOAA so special so creative ! i can't wait to see more pretty colors on dash from u ehehe AND HOPEFULLY EVEN MORE INTERACTIONS IN 2023 !

@kunizk

ZENNN ZENZEN ! omg we rlly have not interacted much but stop. i adore ur navi SO MUCH I WANNA EAT IT ? like does that make sense? prob not BUTASLASAL STOP STOPP. i love ur interactions w toji's rp blog i love seeing just like. no shits given layin everything out ahaklaa BUT ! i hope to see more feral shit on dash from u AND MORE INTERACTIONS TOGETHER NEXT YEAR :)

@nymphoheratic

KATTAKSDHKAL KAT MY BABY ! my lil genshin buddy snifle ! i not only adore ur writing but i just ADORE U ! you're my lil kit kat sob :') i hope tumblr fkn unflags u someday HAKAKA it is ridiculous how much i miss u here ! but im glad i have u on genshin n hopefully we can share more lil leaks n show off tcg n showcases to each other next year ehehkeeke !

@babiefwuit

my love my light my literal best friend :') I SRSLY DONT KNOW WHAT ID DO WITHOUT YOU TO TALK TO :(:(((:(:(( nana bun HAKDAL grammy bun i miss u SOOO BAD ! WE NEED TO CATCH UP RN. like HOP ON DISC RN ! i am kissing u my sweet, soulful-energied baby! i could cry ! ahdkalsda BUT LETS MEET UP AGAIN N THIRST OVER GYOMEI AGAIN IN 2023 !

@itoshi-s

OMFGHKLASDKLAAAA ZARI STOP. bro it's been like 2 days of being mutuals but STOP I LOVE SEEING U ON DASH I LOSE MY MIND ! your energy omfg. it's irreplaceable i stg ! the feral thirsts, the thoughts u put in my tinie head ! ill go insane one day I SWEAR ADKASL im gonna bite u 24/7 in 2023 :')

@boyfrwenz

JEM MY SWEET THING ! you are my biggest daichi association ever ! every time i see anything haikyuu/daichi related im like STOP I WONDER IF JEM HAS SEEN THIS OMG ! you have like calm chaotic but also bright energy snifle ! i hope to see more daichi fics n interactions in 2023 :))

@ohsatori

omg HALEYYEHKALDSA stop stop ! i adore how you write not only tendou but all characters snifle ! your theme caught my eye so hard n im sooo glad i clicked follow sob ! you are such a sweet, bright soul on dash to me !! you also put me on SOO much good haikyuu art i adore it :') i cannot WAIT for more tendou fics n art n interactions next year :P

@haruchiyos

azrael my beloved my pretty thing ! u get me like u just GET ME yk? i feel like we're aligned or smth ! every time i interact with you im just thinking "mm m mm azrael gets it!" I MISS SEEING U ON DASH I NEED MORE AZRAEL THOUGHTS ! im yelling at yukimiya to give u sum kisses for the new year :P

@tinymaru

REINEAKJSDKLA reine my baby. I SWEAR U DONT UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH RESPECT N ADMIRATION I HAVE FOR UR TALENT ! you're such a sweet soul too i can't help but smile when i see "MOSHI" randomly in my disc notifs asdklalad !! you have such a gifted, creative, beautiful mind to me ! i cannot wait for more art n selfship drawings n silly lil dms in 2023 :)

@sailewhoremoon

SOSAAAA every time i see u on dash legit love sosa plays in my head ! your energy omfg it cannot be replicated. it's SOOOO GOOD and the way u reblog asks n check up on ur moots is SOO SWEET ILL CRY ! youre the sweetest brightest lil light on this app :') I NEED MORE FERAL UNCENSORED SOSA THOUGHTS ASAP ! i hope to see evennn more next year eheeheke

@dearbraus

FAWN FAWN FAWN BABY ! i adore ur acc sm omfgklf i also LOVE that u post abt lesbian culture n ur lil thoughts on genshin women esp lisa ! you're such a strong presence n it's sooo like... energetically warm to me !! i just adore seeing ur reblogs n thoughts spewed out on dash ! i hope we can interact EVEN MORE IN 2023 ! kisskiss to u :)

@thetempleofnyx

omg jen ASKALLAAAA my baby my baby omg ! my sweet thing i treasure you SO MUCH ! your feral unhinged uncensored thoughts on dash r sooo sooo contagious i stg ! every time i see u horny post im like oh. OH OHHH oh. OHH yeah oh right oh! HAKHSA but i srsly love ur sweet n caring energy you are one of the just most.. precious people ive met here ! i hope for more thirsts n interactions n LOVE with you next year !

@eremikan

MARI. i see like everything u put out on dash n i think to myself "thats so real" like ur brain is sooo intriguing to me.. IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN IT ! you have like neutral chaotic energy and im always like "i wanna peek in ur brain even more" ! but i will legit NEVER forget that satosugu fic you wrote where getou was gone and it was reader + satoru and getou like came to them in a dream sorta situation?? OMG THAT FIC CHANGED MY LIFE it was my first time reading an angsty fic ahdkala but i LOVED IT ! but anyways that was long omgomg i cant wait to see more peeks of ur brain this next year :P

@festive

VIVA VIVAAAA your energy on dash actually makes me smileomgomg i think to myself "viva n cyno" all the time like u are sooo associated with him in my brain ! i love love LOVE your writing style sm, n the cyno content is TOP tier to me ! youre so funny your energy is just so bright to me ! but i hope to see even moreee viva n cyno next year n hopefully even more interactions ! :)

@sugies

MY BABY JUJU ! omgomg every time i see jjk or getou art im like "WAIT HAS JUJU SEEN THIS?" you're like the sweetest lil bean to me ! i adoreeee adore you n MISS U ! WE NEED TO GET BACK INTO JJK ANALYSIS AGAIN ! i miss talking abt the chapters w you ! i am giving u a warm squishy hug rn cuz i miss u soooo much ! i hope for more jjk/getou brainrot n thirsts in 2023 :)

@rczc

ZEHR MY LOVE MY LIGHT MY BABY ! i miss you SOOO MUCH STOP ! you are the fkn funniest person on this app i am SOO SERIOUS ! your energy is so warm and chaotic and the feral unhinged tags FEED MY SOUL ! you make me choke from laughing so hard i will cry ! i miss u zehr bear ! i am hugging u virtually :)

@milkyybuns

OMGOGM DAE ! my tengen brainrot buddie ehehehe every time i see itto or tengen art/fics im like stop it rn where is dae ! im falling back into my tengen phase again so expect a lot in ur inbox ehehhe ... you have such sweet energy on dash like seeing u in my inbox makes me SMILE SO HARD ! i adore u baby n i hope for amazing things AND SOME MORE TENNIE BRAINROT NEXT YEAR !

@sugr

KELS KELS ! u feed me soooo well with the jjk art reblogs n haikyuu / jjk fics ! i will die adkasladh you have calm n bright energy to me ! i associate u sooo hard with yuuji (prob from the prev. username hehe) ! but you remind me of the feeling of hot coffee on a cold day if that makes sense.. like soothing n cozy :') I CANT WAIT FOR MORE FICS N INTERACTIONS THIS NEXT YEAR ! kisskiss for u kels !

@munsonsins

ABBYYADHJADKAD stop i miss u so much ! even tho i dont know shit about marvel or that stuff?? i will always read anything u write cuz i ADOREEE IT SM ! whenever i see u pop into my inbox w a lil meme i smile soo hard eeek ! i hope school is treating u well n ur doing AMAZING ! n if not i hope that next year brings u the amazing vibes that you deserve :) i love u abby ehekeke

@ghxstic

NYMPH NYMPH my kny food distributor ehehekee i stg my fav muzan fic is that muzan + koku fic u wrote from WAAAY back when ! i miss u sosososo much ! i hope life is treating u well ! i miss interacting so bad ahakalaa !! im giving u 365 kisses so every day of next year is a good one :)

@pcwer

bruh omg xel i literally think u are the funniest person i have ever met in my entire life HAKAKAKAAA like. i genuinely lose my shit every time u post ESP ABT KISHIBE ILL DIE RN THINKING ABT IT ! but you have such warm n happy energy it makes my soul feel soooo full ! i cant wait for more WEIRD kishibe thoughts n yummy thirsts next year :P

@r-oronoa

OMGOMG APOLLO my baby pollo ! i am sooo glad to have u as a mutual stop omgog ! you have like omg. the most precious energy ive ever felt thru a screen HASKDAAA you're so warm and inviting and bright it makes me feel right at home !! your fics are so amazing and the way u push out content is so admirable ! i adore u and i hope for even moreee interactions in 2023 :')

@suyacho

SNOW OMFAKSDJKALAAA you and xel are like.. the most ridiculously hysterical duo ive ever experienced in my life ! interacting w you guys on diaphanoso was INSANE i loved the kny brainrot sm ! you're the sweetest little precious soul ive ever met ! ill cry thinking abt it omgoggn i love playing genshin w you and teaching u all kinds of things ! i cant wait to play n interact even more !!!

@saneminx

CHERRY MY BELOVED MI BEBECITA ! MI CORAZON ! i love your energy so much like your sense of justice and bright, loud + confident personality makes me feel SOO GOOD i admire u a lot ! you always feed me with sooo many kny thirsts i ADORE U ! i am hugging u soooososo tight and i hope 2023 is AMAZING FOR U !

@the-witch-of-one-piece

VAL OMGLAKSDAAAA VAL VAL ! i see u writing bleach i promise one day ill watch it all n catch up with you :') your energy is so positive and loving, i can feel it through the screen i swear ! you make me feel right at home, and i love that we've stayed mutuals through my blog switch and after around a year ! im sending all my good energy to you for this next year :'))

@getoswhore

BRUH AHKLAAAA BELLA GTFO i love you. everything u put out on dash makes me fucking DIE LAUGHING STOP ! youre like one of my most precious mutuals from diaphanoso omgogm you've influenced me to be more confident n loud on dash hhehehee I ADORE U ! i cannot wait for more belloshi interactions n thirsts in 2023 :)

@donvampiro

DONDONDON I WILL CRY RN ! you are soo close to my heart my beloved ! if i could speak french id put a cute little french term of endearment but alas i am. not there yet :') snifle you make me feel SOOO safe and warm. i adore your heart and your preciousness it makes me emotionalahdkaaaa but i cannot wait for more don + moshi time this next year :')

@sleepy3

SLEEPY SLEEPS MY BABY ! you make me smile so hard when i see u in my inbox, you're always putting me onto new chars and it has me GASPINGAJSKAA i love your energy it's soft, like a warm hug and sleepy cuddles !! i cannot wait for more interactions n PLSPLSSS gimme some more chars to thirst over with you next yearhehehe

@tsunderedoctor

PURPLE my baby my love ! my mutual since diaphanoso ! i adore your sensitivity and brightness, youre such a precious person to me and i just genuinely admire your soul ! i loveee the law art reblogs you put out, they feed me sooo well :') and your emergency requests i adore so much! you are such a beautiful person to me ! ill cry omgogm ! but i hope the new year brings you nothing but good things ! you deserve it all :))

@4izawas

NEPPY NEP ! my bf since diaphanoso :') i adore your bright n confident energy SO MUCH ! your big biggg heart makes me soo so easily comfy and happy with you !! you have so much confidence and i swear it's contagious :) i cant wait for more genshin + moshtune interactions this next year ! i am sending u all my thirsty n positive energy !!

@garoujo

BROOOAKAKAKAA stop stop. dont get me started ill tear up ! emmie oomfghfgf i literally am in love with u ! youre my best friend stop stop ! you make me feel so safe and comfortable like i rlly dont feel that way with a lot of ppl ! you have such a bright heart and just warm energy ITS SO CONTAGIOUS. ur so contagious im sniffling ! we must have more emmoshi interactions ! i am giving u all my motivation n energy for 2023 :')

@vilsoo

JES OMGOMG ! i swear youve been sticking around w me for SOOO LONG like almost 2 years?? i think?? but SOB your energy is so bright to me i adore talking to u sm :') there's always tea to spill n its sooo investinghahakak but i cannot wait for more memories n interactions w you ! you are my go-to for fnaf fics ALWAYS ill always put people onto you when they ask for jjk / fnaf recs ehehheeh

2022 SAETOSHIS. thank you all for the memories, craziness, love n hugs! i adore u all! // all credits for music go to animenz on youtube, song performed: kimiiro signal - saekano: how to raise a boring girlfriend OP

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Johnlock Podfics by Podfixx

Hey all! Today’s a different kind of Fic Rec Sunday! I was recently asked to send some love to the amazing @podfixx, and of course I said yes! And I’ve decided to do it in one of my fave ways for content creators: promoting their work!! While I’ve never listened to podfics (it’s not really my thing) I know that Podfixx is a staple of the Sherlock podfic community and deserves all the love for their hard work, professionalism, and dedication.

I want to share my own happy experience with Podfixx: they are the reason I have chapter counts on my fic recs now, if you guys didn’t know. They asked me a few years ago if I could add Chapter counts to fics, because [and this isn’t verbatim, but it’s how I interpreted what they told me... can’t find the message now, it was so long ago] adding chapters actually helps podficcers in deciding which fics to pick next to read, or how to break up a LONG 1 Chapter fic, and helps them plan out their podfic schedule. First of all, I was FLOORED that someone as amazing as Podfixx even read my fic lists (I’m always shocked when anyone takes vested interest in anything I do), but that, at the time, they used them to help pick fics. And since then, I’ve always put chapter counts on all my fics.

So you guys should go and give them a listen!:) This list is OBVIOUSLY not comprehensive, and not everything they’ve done, but PLEASE check out their “Podfixx” tag for everything they’ve read (including Good Omens and Jeeves and Wooster!), and give them some love!!

Click on the “PODFIC AVAILABLE” link to go to the Tumblr or Ao3 posts linking to their Spotify Tracks!

Enjoy! And thank you @podfixx for providing endless hours of fics for the community! This one is for you 💜🖤

-------

The Lustful Cockmonster by hubblegleeflower (M, 954 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Established Relationship, Pet Names for Penises, Fluff, Humour) – Not many people know this, but Sherlock is the funny one. Part 2 of the Favourite Ficlets series

Something red, something green, something sparkly by Silvergirl (M, 1,106 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Christmas, Texting, Impending Desperation, Gift Shopping) – If you can't solve a puzzle yourself, ask the experts. Of course, the experts may be utterly useless ... until they aren't.

Out of the Shadow of Missed Chances by MargueriteSomebodyoranother (T, 1,132 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post TRF / TEH Fic, Reunion, Idiots in Love, Mutual Pining) – He’d had eighteen months - it seemed like a goddamned eternity at the time - and he never uttered a word.

The Man in Aisle Ten by standbygo (G, 1,395 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Christmas, Shopping, Gifts, Original Female Character POV) – It's Christmas Eve, the busiest day for shopping at Harrod's, and there's a guy in aisle ten who's snapping at every sales associate who dares to approach him. It's up to Moira to help him find the perfect present. [TRANSLATIONS: Русский || 中国] 

Ink by Strange_johnlock (T, 1,460 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Parentlock with Rosie, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss/Time, Tattoos, Mutual Pining, Angst, Fluff) – Every tattoo Sherlock gets has to do with John.

On The Dangers Of Semi-Skimmed by loveanddeathandartandtaxes (M, 1,536 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-S4, Domestics, Masturbation, Accidental Voyeurism, First Time) – “I don't mind,” John blurts. Sherlock looks at him. “If you were to come up to my room for - anything.”

Letters, Redux by earlgreytea68 (G, 1,730 w., 1 Ch. || PODFICS AVAILABLE: [PODFIXX || THEMUSECALLIOPE] || Tags to Be Added) – While he's dead, Sherlock writes John more letters. Part 3 of Letters  [TRANSLATIONS: Polski || Русский]

Say you won't let go by WritingOutLoud (G, 1,996 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || TSo3 Fix It, POV John First Person, Drunk Sherlock, Drunk John, First Kiss) – Short ficlet about what could have happened if they hadn't had a case on the stag night. [TRANSLATIONS: Español]

Letters, the Writing Of by earlgreytea68 (G, 2,416 w., 1 Ch. || PODFICS AVAILABLE: [PODFIXX || THEMUSECALLIOPE] || Tags to Be Added) – While he's dead, Sherlock writes John letters. Part 1 of the Letters series [TRANSLATIONS: Русский || Polski]

The Perils of Pair Bonding by Infinitely_Stranger (M, 2,761 w., 2 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S4, Awkward Conversations, Idiots Being Idiots) – Sherlock turns out to have been a bit wrong about something. John turns out to have noticed.

The General Idea by agirlsname (T, 3,022 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Retirement, Promise of Forever / Proposal, POV John, First Kiss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Soft Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Crying / Emotional Sherlock, Love Confessions) – After twenty years of friendship, John is used to Sherlock acting weirdly. But the news Sherlock finally brings himself to deliver change the carefully built dynamics between them, and John realises it's time to act.

The Beauty of Broken Edges by snorklepie (E, 3,181 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || POV John, John’s PTSD, Sexuality, Blow Jobs, Idiots in Love, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Feelings Realization, Fluff, 221B Baker Street, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Frottage) – John Watson thinks he's Very Bad at Relationships. Sherlock Holmes dreams of wandering around his entorhinal cortex.

By the Rivers of Babylon by verdant_fire (T, 3,359 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post HLV Canon Divergence, Love Declarations, Exile, Pining Sherlock, Longing, Angst, POV Sherlock, Reunions, First Kiss) – Sherlock goes back to Serbia, and endures exile, boredom/torture, and a certain chemical defect, for the sake of one person and three improbable words.

Safe Harbour by 221b_hound (G, 3,842 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Angst, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Five and One) – Five times John comforts someone, and one time someone comforts him.

The Romance Was There by apliddell (G, 4,011 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Post Mary, Christmas, Domestics, Villain Mary, Platonic Bedsharing, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Love Letters) – In which Sherlock reveals his merits as a housekeeper, and a few other things, too.

Tree Topper by May_Shepard (E, 4,017 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Christmas Tree, Christmas Fluff, Drunken Shenanigans, Smut, First Time, Friends to Lovers) – Sherlock and John are celebrating Christmas the best way they know how--alone together, with booze. They've almost finished decorating their tree, but John is determined to find the best way to top it.

Golden Hours by stopthat (M, 4,783 w., 2 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || POV Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Hugs and Cuddles, Conversations, First Kiss/Time, Seaside Cottage, Love Confessions, Frottage, Tenderness, Sexual Tension) – John is too quiet. Sherlock whisks him away to the sea.

Letters, the Reading Of by earlgreytea68 (T, 5,334 w., 1 Ch. || PODFICS AVAILABLE: [PODFIXX || THEMUSECALLIOPE] || Tags to Be Added) – While he's dead, Sherlock writes John letters. John reads them. Part 2 of the Letters series [TRANSLATIONS: Polski || Русский]

Five Times Sherlock Fell Asleep in John's Arms by Accident and the One Time He Did It – Accidentally – on Purpose by WillowGrove (T, 7,201 w., 6 Ch, || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Five and One, Falling Asleep, Cuddling & Snuggling, Texting, Tea, First Kiss, Dreams, Fever, Comfort, Caretaker John, Love, Humour, Fluff) – Sherlock notices that John keeps cuddling him to sleep and he rather likes it. But then John stops, and Sherlock has to result to schemes to make it happen again. Who falls asleep, who wakes up in who’s arms, and – most importantly – will there be a kiss in the end?

Three New Messages by earlgreytea68 (M, 7,485 w., 2 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Tags to Be Added Upon Reading) – If you were dying, if you'd been murdered -- in your very last seconds, what would you say? [TRANSLATIONS: Русский || 中国]

of midnight moments and mistletoe by hudders-and-hiddles (M, 7,669 w., 4 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Christmas, First Kiss, Fluff, Mistletoe, Snow) – John and Sherlock are throwing a Christmas Eve party, and the flat is all strung up with mistletoe.

The Love Song of Two Idiots by SkipandDi (T, 7,868 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Crack, Humour, Proposals) – The eighth time Sherlock proposed to John, it was on a Thursday afternoon in the middle of a Tesco. And like the seven times before, he got rejected. Part 2 of The Infiltrate Series

Tomorrow by Berty (M, 9,517, 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism AU || Canon Divergence, Christmas, Hurt/Comfort, Spells and Enchantments, Married John/Mary, Difficult Decisions, Fluff and Angst) – The night before they travel to Dorset to spend Christmas with Sherlock's parents and John's wife, 221 Baker Street is peaceful with the smell of baking, flickering candles and presents under the tree. But Father Christmas can't be relied upon to bring the boys their heart's desires. Just as well Mrs Hudson - who is NOT a fairy godmother OR their housekeeper, thank you very much - is so good at her job.

Casualty by Silvergirl (E, 12,051 w., 4 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Canon Compliant Until T6T, Mary’s Dead, Trauma/Comfort, John’s a Good Friend, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss/Time, Sherlock Learns Teamwork, Parentlock) – Sherlock renders assistance at a hit-and-run and is left deeply shocked. When the accident turns into a case, John moves back in to 221b to help—and finds that Sherlock has way oversold his image as an emotionless thinking machine.

A Thousand Kisses Deep by Susan (E, 12,689 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Time Travel, Longing, Angst, Post S1, Time Travel Fix It) – “Come here,” Sherlock said and when he did, he put his arm across John’s shoulder, and pulled him close. John let him, and after a moment, rested his head against Sherlock’s chest. Sherlock felt the familiar ache, a longing for what might have been. If only he’d been braver, more sure of John’s feelings. He dropped his arms and stepped back. It was too late. Things were as they were meant to be. But it was autumn in Sussex, and everything was changing. If you were given a chance to go back to the beginning and make things right, would you take it?

The Zebra Sheets by agirlsname (M, 13,733 w., 35 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post TRF, POV Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, UST, Dialogue-Heavy, Relationship Negotiation, Holidays/Sussex, Touch-Starved Sherlock, Brief Mentions of Torture, Falling in Love, Mentions of Past Drug Use) – Sherlock is back from the dead and he's exhausted. So is John. They go on a holiday to a faraway cottage and unexpected truths are revealed.

Almost Home by Berty (E, 13,871 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, Captain John, Pining John, University Student Sherlock, Gay Bar, First Time, Anal, Mutual Masturbation, Protective Big Brother Mycroft, POV John, Time Skips, Memories, Angst With Happy Ending) – He pulls out the ID card – the one that Sherlock had somehow seen when he was buying drinks at that awful club. He’s had other ID cards since then but he’s hung on to this one for some reason. He looks at the image of his face, young and pale and idealistic, and he knows that just a month later that man would have found and lost the love of his life within a week, and even knowing that, John wouldn’t change a single thing.

About Sleep and Coffee and the Existence of Fate by Atiki (E, 17,426 w., 6 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Fluff, Marriage Proposal, Humour, 5 and 1) – Naturally, John was startled when suddenly the ultimate solution occurred to him: Marriage. This was, of course, a bit of a fundamental problem rather than an actual solution. One didn't simply use the words “Sherlock” and “marriage” within the same sentence. Not even in a hypothetical context. Five times John kind of wanted to propose to Sherlock, and one time he didn’t have to.

Straight Boy Pain by Glenmore (NR, 18,257 w., 10 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Coming Out, Pain, Romance, Birds, Sexuality) – Sherlock is in pain. Billy Kinkaid, the Camden garroter and best man Sherlock knows, diagnoses it. Ademar Silver, a male prostitute in south London, attempts to treat it. Lestrade, kindly Detective Inspector of New Scotland Yard, doesn’t notice it. Eventually, John Watson, healer and registered medical doctor, cures it. And a beautician called Penny paints Sherlock’s toenails.

Over Cloud and Under Cloud by khorazir (T, 16,477 w., 3 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Cabin Pressure Crossover || Post-TRF, Angst, Humour, Pre-Slash, Pining) – After his Fall, Sherlock travels the world to destroy what remains of James Moriarty's criminal empire. When things don't go according to plan and he finds himself in desperate need of a discreet means of travel, cue MJN Air... Part 1 of the Over/Under series

Winter to Spring by standbygo (E, 19,416 w., 10 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S4, Post-Nuclear War, Parenthood, Danger, BAMF Sherlock, Whump, Angst with Happy Ending) – Sherlock is babysitting Rosie when the ultimate disaster strikes London. There will be fear, there will be danger, there will be despair - but in the end, there will be love.

Divinest Sense by ChrisCalledMeSweetie (E, 25,001 w., 18 Ch. |  PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate First Meeting, Mental Health Issues, First Kiss/Time, Coded Clues, Virgin Sherlock, Bisexual John, Slow Burn) – John has been sectioned — deemed to be a danger to himself and others — and is facing six months in an experimental psychiatric treatment facility. After his recent drug overdose, Sherlock is being shipped off by his brother to live amongst the mad, as though this will somehow improve his mental health. What will happen when these two damaged men meet under the least auspicious of circumstances?Hint: You can expect some humorous misunderstandings, burgeoning attraction, coded clues that the reader is invited to try to decipher, eventual explicit sex, and altogether more fluff than one might imagine, given the rather dark premise of this story. Part 1 of the Divinest Senses

Extraction by holmesian_love (NR, 28,594 w., 15 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF/Hiatus, Kidnapped Sherlock, BAMF John, Rescue Mission) – While Mycroft spends a month working overtime to find his brother, with agents reporting back and an extraction team in place, John's world is turned upside down, after a surprise delivery shakes his foundations. He is forced back into the world of Sherlock Holmes, completely unprepared to face the consulting detective.The extraction is only the beginning for these three men as they face the consequences of past actions. Part 1 of Extraction

The Whore of Babylon Was a Perfectly Nice Girl by out_there (E, 32,897 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Past Drug Use, Blowjobs, Toplock, Mentions of Switching, Rough Sex, Background Cases, Sherlock’s Past, Sherlock’s Sexual History, Experienced Sherlock, Past One Night Stands, Fingering, Cuddling, Possessive Sherlock, Paris Holiday, Bed Sharing, Naked Lie-Ins, Bathing Together, Confessions, Worried Sherlock, Laying in Bed All Day, Meddling Mycroft, Naked Lazy Day) – Sherlock walks into a room and takes all the space right out of it. He does the same inside John's head.

You Should Have Changed Course Long Ago by msdisdain (E, 33,235 w., 12 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Epistolary, Slow Burn, Angst, Flashbacks, Frottage, Rimming, Anal Sex, Fingering, Blow Jobs, First Time, Outdoor Sex, Light Dom/Sub, Blogging) – John realizes too late what has been in his heart all along, and flees London. But can he ever truly leave Sherlock behind?

Ride On by Silvergirl (M, 34,342 w., 9 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || TEH Divergence, Reunion, First Kiss / Time, Mutual Pining, Alternating POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Music, Original Characters, Happy Ending) – After the disastrous reveal at the Landmark, John tells Sherlock there can be no excuse for what he’s done, and no forgiveness. Sherlock leaves London and starts a new life, and not even the British Government knows where. It’s up to John to track him down and make things right, with a trip around the world and a clue only John would recognize.

Chances Are by Berty (M, 51,830 w., 14 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post TGG, POV Sherlock, Head Injury, Medical Procedures, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Injury Recovery, Sherlock Whump, John Whump, Developing Relationship, Emotions, Revelations, Friends to Lovers, Doctor John, First Kiss/Time, Aphasia, Muteness, Feelings) – Sherlock is spending some time in his mind palace - so far, so normal. But why is John there, why do things keep changing and why are there only two exits from the sitting room at 221B, neither of which seem to go anywhere useful? It's a case like no other for Sherlock Holmes and John Watson.

Quarantine by wendymarlowe (T, 53,950 w., 200 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Coronavirus / Quarantine, John’s Blog, Asexual Sherlock, Slow Burn, Epistolary, Developing Relationship, Real Time, Case Fic) – John and Sherlock are stuck at 221B together due to coronavirus concerns. Sherlock slowly drives John barmy. [TRANSLATIONS: Русский]

Letters, Resolved by earlgreytea68 (M, 55,253 w., 14 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Tags to Be Added) – The letters have been written, read, and discussed. But that doesn't mean anything's been resolved. Yet. Part 5 of Letters [TRANSLATIONS: Русский]

Saccharomyces cerevisiae (Baker's Yeast) by yaycoffee (E, 60,879 w., 13 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Unplanned Pregnancy / One Night Stand, Drunken Sex, First Kiss/Time, Bit of Case Fic, Sally/Sherlock Drunk Sex First Ch.) – Sometimes, one makes an imprudent decision born of a devastating combination of drink and sentiment. Sometimes, the consequences of that decision take on a life of their own. And sometimes, the facing of those consequences shapes every aspect of one's life--from the hugely meaningful down to the seemingly insignificant. Part 1 of the Knows His Own series

In Memoriam by strangegibbon (E, 66,136 w., 15 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Romance, Angst, Drama, Amnesia, Humour, Sherlock’s Violin, Sherlock in A Sheet, Blogs, Alcohol, PTSD, UST, Mystery, Hurt/Comfort, First Time, Anal Sex, Oral Sex) – Sherlock returns from his self-imposed exile to find a John Watson he barely recognises. Now he must solve the mystery of the disappeared man and try to rebuild their relationship as well as deal with his own return to a London that has forgotten him. Part 2 of the In Memoriam series

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sick Fic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him. 

The Wedding Garments by cwb (E, 105,390 w., 36 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Alternate Future AU || Alternate First Meeting, Dating / Arranged Marriages, Romance, First Kiss/Time, Heavy Petting, Cuddles, POV Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn / Falling in Love / Dev. Rel., Nervous/Anxious Sherlock, Jealous/Cranky Sherlock, Hiking, Vacation Homes / Honeymoon, Sherlock’s Family, Horny John/Sherlock, Patient John, Massages, Hand Jobs, Assassination Plots, Oral Sex, Case Fic, Emotional Love Making, Bath Time Fun) – This is the story of a young consulting detective who wants nothing to do with marriage and an army doctor who wants to find true love. It's 2020 post-Brexit England and the British government is encouraging arranged marriages. Candidates meet through state-run agencies and date in hopes of finding love (and tax benefits). Sherlock doesn't need or want a spouse, at least not until John Watson shows up. Hesitant to give in to his more carnal urges because of the way they derail his mind, how will Sherlock progress toward the more intimate aspects of a relationship? The answer lies in a very special wedding gift.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court. Part 1 of the Care And Companionship series

The Case of the Green Gown by splix (E, 209,261 w., 29 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post S3, Case Fic, First Time, Action/Adventure, Angst, Peril, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Slow Burn, Torture) – ...Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife, the only selfish action which I can recall in our association. I was alone. –– Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, The Adventure of the Blanched Soldier

[cryoculus]

— reparations 06 ⟢

do i get a gold star for doing a great job or no?

★ FEATURING; arataki itto x gn!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 5.4k words

★ TAGS; modern au, flower shop au, slow burn, idiots to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff, mutual pining, no smut, sfw

★ NOTABLE CHARACTERS; arataki itto

★ DISCLAIMERS; contains completely made up shuumatsuban lore, please don't take it too seriously!

★ MASTERLIST . AO3 ★

A young boy trudges to the side of a run-down building—vials of medicine clutched in his small arms as he rests against a dingy wall. His heart still races with adrenaline as he examines the amber bottles, wondering if he even snatched up the right ones. 

He lets out a shaky sigh, dabbing his fingers along the open cut on the back of his head. The warm liquid of his blood seeps from the wound, and he hisses at the abrupt contact.

Granny is so going to give him an earful later.

“You look pretty scratched up over there.”

The boy jolts at the sound of another voice. He glances around the abandoned warehouse, wondering if that security guard managed to tail him. But all he sees is a man in a gruffy looking suit—the buttons of his shirt undone to reveal twin dragon tattoos inked onto his chest. A pair of black sunglasses sits on the bridge of his nose, and the boy gulps, knowing exactly what type of person this is.

A yakuza.

“You need any help?” the man asks, taking out the cigarette from his mouth before killing the light underfoot. “Kids don’t usually wander ‘round these parts.”

“No,” he mumbles quickly, hugging the vials in his arms tighter to his chest. Granny is waiting for him back at home. He should probably get going—

“It’s your first time shoplifting, isn’t it?”

Before the boy can even move another step away, he freezes in his tracks. Is this guy going to scold him for it? Worse, is he going to turn him over to the cops? 

“Yes…”

“Mmm? Figures. You’re fast enough to get away from the man guarding the pharmacy, but not nimble enough to do all that unscathed,” the man chuckles, walking closer to stare him down. “So? Why’d you steal those in the first place?”

The boy is compelled to tell him to mind his own business, but he can almost hear granny’s voice telling him not to be rude to strangers, much more adults. Even if this guy is the epitome of a shady adult himself. 

“I-It’s my granny,” he mumbles. “She’s sick. She… She’s always the one who takes care of me, but we don’t have a lot of money so…”

The man nods. “You’re pretty honest for a kid.”

“...”

“Say, how about we go back to the pharmacy and apologize like proper citizens. I’ll pay for granny’s medicine if that’s what you’re so worried about.” 

The boy gapes. “You’d really do that?”

“Oh, it’s not for free, though.” He laughs again, bringing down his sunglasses to give the kid a glimpse of his eyes. “You see, kid, in a world like ours, nothing is freely given. Everything comes with a price.”

“...What do you want in return?”

The man hums thoughtfully, as if only having considered it when the boy knows he probably approached him with an ulterior motive in mind. Still, if it means getting medicine for granny in a way that won’t disappoint her…

“Well, it just so happens that my team has been declining in number as of late,” he sighs and takes out a handkerchief from his pocket as he kneels in front of the boy—dabbing at the wound on the back of his head. He stares at the man, puzzled, but he only responds with an almost-gentle smile.

“What do you think about becoming my disciple, huh?”

A few days later, you can say that things have become relatively peaceful.

Too peaceful.

As promised, Itto always keeps you updated about his plans and whereabouts—texting you so goddamn often that you had to tell him to knock it off in real life. You just wanted to know what he was up to; not be unknowingly lectured about the ingrown toenail he had checked in the doctor’s clinic. Well, even if he can be a bit gross, at least he’s honoring his end of the agreement. 

Your apprentice has been timing in regularly again like usual, too. Itto has familiarized himself with the specifically assigned placements on your shelves, and you can finally rely on him to do inventory while you take care of the delicate orders from your clientele. (He’s still a long way from handling your flowers with those heavy hands of his, but he’ll get to arrange a bouquet of his own one day. Maybe.)

The customers have definitely taken a liking to him as well. Ever since Itto got back from his so-called leave, the old ladies in the neighborhood fawned over him as he helped carry sacks of fertilizer to each of their houses. The bastard was all-too happy to serve, but you can’t quite put down the feeling that’s been nagging you since he returned.

This is what you wanted, right?

Itto is somewhere you can carefully watch over him, and in the event that he isn’t, he always keeps you posted through badly punctuated text messages. Just like you agreed.

But from his ghastly run-ins with the yakuza to the portrait he’d smashed that night, you were beginning to wonder if you really knew this guy as well as you thought. Well, technically speaking, it was normal not to know a whole lot about Itto. He was just a sacrificial lamb offered up by his gang to compensate for the inconvenience they caused. Your relationship doesn’t go beyond employer and employee, so the fact that you’re having all these complicated feelings about the situation doesn’t really make a lot of sense. 

Everyday, before he times out for the night, you make it a point to inspect Itto’s back for any new injuries. Though he insists that the last time he’s met up with his yakuza friends was the time he passed out on your door the other night, you still can’t be too sure. You pretend not to notice the way he tenses up every time your fingers graze his healing wounds, but you’re just glad that he isn’t out there hurting himself on purpose again.

But you don’t have the time to mull over trivial things right now, sadly.

“Alright! So the wedding is in four months, and the bride wants the motif to be…” You proceed to encircle a poorly drawn doodle on your notepad before showing it to Itto. “Hydrangeas.”

He examines your work with one hand on his chin. “I don’t need to know how to spell that, do I?”

You pointedly ignore his question. “These babies will take about ten to twelve weeks to grow. If we plant them today, they should be ready by spring.”

“Am I really going to work for you for twelve more weeks, master?”

“Got a problem with that?”

“...Strangely, no.”

And that’s how you ended up going to Konda Village alongside Itto. As he helps unload the gardening tools out of the taxi, you pay the fare to the driver once your helper has retrieved everything from the trunk. The guy promptly sees his way out of the dirt road and back to the city before you can even thank him for the ride—the wheels of his car kicking up dust everywhere.

“Okay, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t expect us to just plant all these in your back alley or something,” Itto pipes up suddenly, red eyes transfixed on the plot of land that stood before you. “But isn’t goin’ all the way out here too much?”

“You’re asking an awful lot of questions today.” You roll your eyes, undoing the latch on the wooden fence as you swing the small gate open. “Hydrangeas are huge when they’re fully bloomed. Plus, I had to call in a few favors just to free up this spot. Are you saying you want to render all my efforts futile, Itto?”

“I’m saying that it probably isn’t a good idea to close up shop this time of year,” he tells you, stepping inside the lot as he sets down your equipment. “Why do you think I’ve been timing in every single day, huh?”

Why has he been timing everyday, indeed? That’s the same question that you’ve been wanting to ask him for days now. But the answer apparently has something to do with the season? You shoot Itto a puzzled look that he only returns with a gasp. 

“Don’t tell me you don’t know.”

“I don’t know what?”

“You run a flower shop but you have no idea that Valentine’s Day is right around the corner?!”

“...Oh.”

Okay, maybe you lacked a bit of foresight in that regard, but… You’ve had a lot on your mind lately, okay? Sure, the sudden influx of customers is unusual enough for you to notice, but you’ve been so out of it that you never attempted to wonder why. Gods, you live in a reality where Arataki Itto—the main reason why you’re distracted in the first place—is more aware of your shop’s surroundings than you are. The world must be ending.

Just when you expect him to hound you with questions, Itto pushes up the sleeves of his shirt as he picks off a gardening hoe from your bag of tools. He flashes you a determined smile that makes you want to punch him in the face immediately after.

“So, where do we start?”

You suppose that you could’ve just ordered some pre-grown hydrangeas so you could continue cultivating them on your own. That’s going to be much faster than growing the flowers from scratch, but this is the first major booking you’ve ever accepted. If you want your business to gain a reputation for itself, you might as well showcase your skill in the process, right? What better way to ensure quality control than to grow them yourself?

You tell Itto to leave ample spaces in between plots, reminding him over and over that hydrangea shrubs take up a lot of space to the point that you’re probably annoying him. Which is fine. He should think of it as payback for all the times he talked your ear off about the most insignificant things during work hours and beyond. 

Of course, you’re not some tyrant that just orders their loyal subjects around, though. You pitch in your brunt of the work by planting the seeds your mother gave you. The hydrangeas back at your parents’ house were always so lovely, and you hope you could emulate the same quality for Andou’s wedding in the spring. 

“You said this plot of land was owned by your mom, right?” Itto asks out of the blue, hefting the garden hoe over his shoulder as he glances at you curiously. “Is she into growing stuff too or somethin’?”

Patting down the lump of soil you scooped over your next patch of seeds, you reply, “She used to run a flower shop before she had me. This is where she grows plants that are too high maintenance for indoor environments.”

“Ohhh, it runs in the family.” Itto nods thoughtfully. “You’ve been doin’ a pretty good job for yourself, though. I’m sure she’s proud of you.”

You try not to let the compliment get to your head.

“What about you?” you ask him. “Do you have any other family aside from the gang?”

He hums before resuming his work. “Yeah, my granny. She took me in when I was just a kid, but the folks around Hanamizaka started calling her Granny Oni after.”

“...Were you that much of a problem child?”

“Nah. It’s ‘cause I’m an oni, remember?” 

You do remember; you just refuse to acknowledge it. Why is this man so determined to brand himself as a demon anyways? Either way, you’re not really in the mood to pry about that in particular.

“Right,” you say dryly. “How about blood relatives? Have you ever seen your real parents?”

You immediately realize that you’re toeing on dangerous territory when Itto visibly stiffens. The grip he has on the handle suddenly turns knuckle-white, but he’s quick to compose himself before you can even retract the question.

“My folks died of some nasty disease when I was about, I dunno, five.” He shrugs, sounding way too nonchalant for someone talking about his dead parents. “I did have a cousin who was with me all the time, though. He’s like a brother to me, but… We got separated eventually, and I haven’t seen him since.” 

Something about the somber tone his voice suddenly takes on makes your face twist with sympathy. Idiotic as he might be, it isn’t so weird to know that Itto has incurred his own losses, too. What does come off as strange, however, is how he seems more attached to this cousin of his than his own parents. 

“Have you ever tried looking for him?” you wonder, rising back to your feet to pat the dirt off your pants. 

It takes Itto a while to answer, and you hear nothing but the sound of the garden hoe sinking into the rich brown soil. You quietly plant the seeds in the spots that he carves out for you, and when he finally speaks, you listen to every word.

“I have,” he murmurs. “But he doesn’t really want to be found.”

This time, you know better than to shatter the silence.

“Hey, master! Can you hold on for a sec?”

You glance over your shoulder with brows raised. Itto is absentmindedly hooking back the latch on the fence’s gate when you catch him typing something on his phone, and you wonder what he’s up to.

Hydrangea gardening was quite the success, and you were already done talking to the elderly couple who’d taken care of your mother’s plot since she’d purchased it. All that’s left is to head back to the city before nightfall, but your wonderful apprentice seems like he’s being held up by something entirely.

“What’s the matter?” you ask Itto once you’re in close proximity. “Since you graciously reminded me that it’s Valentine’s season, I might have to make some last-minute shipments. So I’d appreciate it if you hurry up.”

Itto chuckles softly, pocketing his phone. “I’ll have you back at the shop faster than you can blink if you come with me.”

“Come with you? What—”

You don’t even get to finish the sentence because he’s already seized you by the wrist; dragging you further into the village without giving any leeway for protest. That obviously doesn’t stop you from making a scene, though. You thrash against Itto’s grip, yelling in a way that both attracts the attention of the villagers and smashes through the peaceful air of Konda. 

“Where do you think you’re taking me?! This is kidnapping!”

“You’re not a kid anymore.”

“I’m still my dad’s little rascal, so you don’t get to decide that!”

Okay, bringing up the silly names your father calls you is quite the low blow to your own pride. But just when you expect Itto to tease you about being a daddy’s girl or whatever, you briefly get a glimpse of a grim look settling over his face. He doesn’t give you time to make sure it wasn’t just a trick of the light, though. In the next second, he full-on grins with that stupid, shit-eating smile—making you forget about that split-second shift faster than a bullet train at rush hour. 

“Relax, and quit making it look like I’m a serial killer,” he huffs. “I’m just going to grab my bike from the repair shop so I can give you a lift! Shinobu’s gonna cut my family jewels off if she finds out I made you walk from here to Hanamizaka, so…”

Huh. So he does have an ounce of gentlemanly pride in that thick skull of his. But still.

“You had your motorcycle fixed all the way here?” you ask incredulously. 

“Konda Village may not be known for their mechanics, but the guy that tunes up my ride whenever I need a fix is trustworthy, ‘kay?” Itto informs you before finally letting go of your wrist. “In fact, we’ve already arrived~”

You blink, taking in your surroundings. Itto stopped in front of a building that looks a bit more modern compared to the other houses in the village. The metal shutters are up, revealing the inside of the shop for easier viewing. Spare parts are lined haphazardly along rows of metal shelves, and various tools can be seen hanging from the side of a wall just above a cluttered work table. The space kind of seems cramped, though. You wonder if Itto’s mechanic simply overhauled their garage and turned it into something profitable. 

“‘Sup. You here to get your ride?”

You’re a bit surprised to see Haru emerge from inside, a dash of grease smeared across the side of his face as pushes up the goggles on his head. He’s one of the first members of the Arataki Gang you’ve met aside from Itto and Shinobu. But it makes sense for your apprentice to trust him with his bike so much if that was the case.

“Oh? You brought the boss lady, too?” Haru raises an eyebrow—gaze flicking your way.

“Hey, I only let it slide when Tora called them that one time,” Itto grumbles. “I’m still the boss, got that? Master over here’s got nothin’ to do with the gang.”

The mechanic chuckles, using the small towel slung over his shoulder to wipe the sweat and dirt off his face. “Well, y��know how osmosis works between brothers.”

“Osmo… what?”

“Anyways, I don’t believe we’ve properly been introduced,” Haru says, turning to you as he completely dismisses Itto’s question. You and him are going to get along; you can already feel it. “I’m Kanzaki Haru. Nice to meet you.”

Once you introduce yourself back, you can’t help but ask, “You and Tora are brothers?” 

“The resemblance ain’t very uncanny ‘cause we have different mothers, but yeah.” Haru nods. “By the way, Itto. Your bike’s as good as new in the back. You wanna try it out?” 

“Of course I do!”

Seemingly familiar with Haru’s workshop already, your apprentice is quick to bolt back outside—presumably to check on his motorcycle where the bike should be. You sigh. So much for packing up as soon as you could. 

“You know, he’s started to look better ever since Shinobu forced him to work with you.”

His words catch you off guard a little. “I’m sorry?”

“I mean, our boss is in good hands,” he chuckles, pulling out a wheeled stool beneath his work desk before plopping himself on top of it. “The gang was pretty opposed to the idea when we broke the news, but now everyone seems convinced enough that you’re taking care of him alright. Myself included.”

“...I’m not trying to steal Itto away, if that’s what you’re insinuating.”

“It would actually do all of us a favor if you did.”

You scowl. “Do you hate him or something?” 

“Quite the opposite, actually,” Haru interjects with a smile. “We love Itto so goddamn much that we want him to start thinking of himself for a change. That guy’s got a heart that’s bigger than his own body, if you still haven’t noticed.”

You have. In fact, it’s harder not to notice. 

Despite the (probably) illogical reason behind it, Itto willingly deals with his own problems under the Arataki Gang’s noses because he doesn’t want them to share the same burden. He doesn’t even have to say a thing for you to know how much he cares about them. And if the hearsay about the gang being a safe haven for misfits has any real weight to them, then it would just prove Haru’s words tenfold. 

“I’m sure he’s always going on and on about his oni heritage, am I right?” Haru asks. 

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask someone about that,” you admit. “But I thought Shinobu was still busy, so I kind of put it off…”

“Haha! Well, the first thing you should know is that every word that comes out of his mouth is true.”

“...Are you telling me to play along with his oni superhero fantasy or something?”

The mechanic shakes his head. “No, I’m telling you to believe him when he says he’s an oni.”

You proceed to stare at him like he’s an escaped mental ward patient.

Haru lets out a lighthearted laugh, reaching for one of the loose screws on his desk as he fidgets with it. “It’s a bit of a stretch, yeah. And the oni blood has watered down after several generations. But those marks on his face and chest? Those ain’t tattoos. He’s had them since we were kids.”

“I’m still not buying it,” you tell him. “He doesn’t even have horns!”

“Hey, his genetics are out of anyone’s control, you know?” Haru rebuts. “Either way, I can’t and won’t force you to believe me. I just thought it’d do you some good to learn more about Itto now that you’re stuck with him.”

“Temporarily,” you add. “It’s not like he’s going to work for me forever, right? The gang’s waiting for him.”

The mechanic pauses, quietly placing that loose screw into a jar full of all sorts of metal fasteners. “You know, the Arataki Gang wasn’t always this big of a deal.”

“It started with Itto and three of his friends from the city. Now those guys were the actual delinquents. Stirring up trouble for no real reason. But after a few years, they accumulated more and more members.”

“Yet you were recognized as the top dogs of Hanamizaka,” you point out. 

“Well, that’s all thanks to a certain…third party. Our mentor.”

“Mentor?”

Haru nods. “Back in the day, Shinobu, Itto, and I all trained under the Shuumatsuban. Does the name ring a bell?”

Shuumatsuban? That's the first you've heard of it, and you let him know with a shake of your head.

“Aha. Think of it as a…martial arts club of sorts,” he chimes, and you get the feeling that there’s more to it than what Haru is willingly divulging, but you opt not to press. “Our mentor trained the three of us along with a handful of other kids for a while. Tora even joined in when he was old enough to fight.” 

Martial arts club, huh. Well, that explained how Itto was able to hold up against the yakuza multiple times. It also explained how Tora had it in him to jump off your balcony unscathed. That’s some mentor they have.

“We had the time of our lives—that’s the thing I remember the most. Even if our mentor was starting to disappear on us, we never stopped carrying out missio— I mean, training. You know how kids take those taekwondo tournaments seriously.” Haru punctuates this with a suspicious-sounding laugh. “At least, that’s how things were until our mentor stopped showing up completely.” 

“He…abandoned you?”

He shrugs. “More or less, yeah. And get this, when we tried to investigate, we found out that he has a family of his own. He never really told us that. Shinobu even said that we were all big enough to clean up after our own messes, and that we should just leave our mentor alone with his family, but…”

“I’d be furious if my mentor suddenly left like that,” you tell him. “Isn’t that a bit harsh on his part? I know it’s just some martial arts club, but he could’ve at least explained what was up.”

Haru laughs again, but it sounds a bit lonely. “We don’t really get to have everything we want. That’s just the way things are. Although, out of the four of us, I’m pretty sure Itto was the one who took it the hardest.”

“He resents our mentor for what he did. I don’t think he’s actually over it to this day... But even if the other kids from the Shuumatsuban carried on with their own lives, Itto made sure there was still a place where misfits like us can belong,” he continues. “I was one of the first people he tried to invite. But I was already dead-set on keeping my nose out of that gang business.”

“And look where you are now,” you tease.

“Hey, if you have an adorably pushy little brother, and an equally pushy friend named Kuki Shinobu, it’s hard to keep refusing.” Haru sighs. “Now here we are, one big happy family.”

“That still doesn’t explain why the Tenryou Commission recognized you guys officially.” You cross your arms. “Come on, Itto’s taking his sweet time inspecting his ride as is. I’m sure you can share some more details.”

“I’m getting there.” He rolls his eyes. “We never expected it either, you know. One of the officers from the police station suddenly just showed up at home base and broke the news. Shinobu and I suspected that our mentor pulled a couple of strings in the sidelines as an apology of sorts, though we could never really confirm it.”

“But even if that guy left us all in the dust, it doesn’t change the fact that Itto created a safe space for people like us.” Haru smiles. “They didn't have to train the way we did back in our Shuumatsuban days. As long as they felt estranged, despised, or abandoned, we’d take ‘em all in. That's what the Arataki Gang is all about.”

…These boys aren’t troublemakers at all. Not in the slightest. You have no clue how the rumors about the gang even sprang up in the first place, but after hearing all this, you couldn’t help give Itto a couple of brownie points for his unwavering compassion. You never would’ve expected a guy like him to care about his friends so deeply.

Suddenly, a loud roar snaps you out of your musing.

“Oi, Haru! You sure you washed the engine properly? I don’t like how it sounds when I’m revving it up.”

As if on cue, the man of the hour brought his motorcycle back to the front, looking in much better condition than how it used to be the night he crashed it into your shop. The silver handles were polished to perfection, and the dragon sigil—oni sigil, you correct yourself—festooned by the headlight glimmers like solid gold.

“You’re not doubting my expertise now, are you?” Haru sighs. “That shitty bucket of bolts has been sitting in the garage for weeks. I was wondering when you’re going to bother picking it up.”

“Well, sorry I had my hands full with my new job,” Itto bites back sarcastically, but you feel no antagonism in the words. “Speaking of my new job… Master! Hop on! You still need to make a few orders, right?”

You shoot him a perplexed look. “After what you did to my store, it’s bold of you to think I’m just going to let you drive me back on this thing.”

Itto shrugs. “You seem to trust me with a lot of things now. Isn’t trusting me with your life included in the package this time?”

“You’re despicable.”

“Really, I’ve been told worse.” Itto smiles as he holds out his hand, and you hate the way your heart flutters at the sight. “Come on! We’re burning daylight!”

Reluctantly, you turn to Haru who’s already waving a hand in farewell. “It was nice talking to you, boss lady. See you soon.”

You return the gesture with a warm smile, grateful that he trusted you enough to tell you about the lives they lived as children. The mechanic’s tale certainly painted your not-so-good-for-nothing apprentice in a different light. Maybe you’ll start being a bit nicer to him from here on out.

Haru doesn’t ask, but you say it anyway.

“I’ll take care of him. That’s a promise.”

“You know, I really don’t appreciate being left in the dark!” Itto yells over the blare of the traffic as he eases his motorcycle at a red light. “Not only are my boys callin’ you boss lady now, but who the hell are you and Haru talking about? Take care of who? Do you need back-up or somethin’? I bet I can knock that guy dead!”

“Yeah, I’m sure you can,” you say, leaning against the backrest of his bike. “Don’t worry your empty little head about it.”

“Empty?!” 

Before he can get another word out, the light turns green. Itto groans.

The trip was faster than you’d expected. Konda Village was a thirty minute drive away from the city, but Itto made it to the outskirts of Hanamizaka in fifteen. While you had some reservations about riding with him, he proved to be a much better driver than you thought. Those yakuza assholes must’ve bashed his head pretty bad that night for him to crash into your shop.

But that’s not the only thing you end up mulling over about the man in front of you.

You think about Haru’s words over and over. About how Itto takes poorly to being left behind; about how he makes sure no one else has to feel the same way. Then, you remember the fact that his parents passed so early in his life, and the cousin that he seems to have never stopped looking for. 

He always takes things in stride, you realize. Always grinning like a goddamn madman before hurtling headfirst into his stupid ideas. But you also realize that just because he’s someone who can effortlessly make the people around him smile, doesn’t mean he’s invincible.

You witnessed that firsthand when he came to you, sporting the worst piece of hazing evidence you’ve seen in your life. 

When it all comes down to it, you still don’t know how to feel about this stack of contradictions that goes by Arataki Itto. You don’t know why he’s dabbling with the yakuza. You barely know anything about the guy at all. But you do know that a person who can easily tell you that you’ve been doing a great job also needs someone to let them hear the words in return.

It’s the least you can do, after all.

Your eyes rove over the way his unruly white hair sways in the breeze. Itto had the decency to tie it when you decided to ride behind his back. And it makes it awfully easy for you to circle your arms around the broad circumference of his torso—pressing your cheek against his back as you lock him in a loose embrace.

Itto doesn’t flinch at the contact like you expect him to. He merely tenses for a fraction of a second before his muscles ease up after a moment’s hesitation. You breathe in the scent of sun and sweat clinging to his hair, and surprisingly, you don’t mind. In fact, you even find yourself worrying about the wounds on his back. But if you were so concerned, you suppose you could just inspect them once you got back to the shop.

“You’re doing a great job,” you tell him, hoping the words won’t get lost in the wind.

He doesn’t say anything; doesn’t give any sort of reaction. But you can almost feel him smiling away from view either way.

For you, that was enough. 

“So? How’s my driving?”

“You had me at a loss for words there,” you say once you hop off his bike—handing the only helmet he has in the trunk back to him. “You’re a pretty decent driver yourself, Itto. Though if you’re going to let other people ride more often, you should have two helmets in stock.”

“Right, right. Road safety and all that jazz.” He waves a hand nonchalantly. 

“You’re good enough to get a license~” 

“Um, excuse me, I so have a driver’s license!” Itto corrects, fumbling around in his pockets to bring out his (usually empty) wallet. “Here! See that? I look dashing in my picture, just so you know.”

You lean in for a closer look as he shows you the card. Hmm… It’s issued by the Tenryou Commission’s Land Transportation Department. Looks official enough—

Wait a second.

“Itto,” you begin, meeting his eyes warily. “This thing was issued two years ago.”

“Yeah, what about it?”

“You do know that you have to renew your license every year, right?”

“... No, I did not know that.”

“Is this why you’ve been getting arrested so often?!”

“Hey, I’ve never once been arrested for violating traffic regulations! Okay, maybe I was thrown into the slammer once for beating a red light. And I almost ran over a kindergartner on his way to the day-care. Oh, and let’s not forget the very reason why the two of us even met in the first place—”

I can’t believe I felt sympathy for this guy, you think to yourself—groaning as Itto lists off his public offenses while you both head inside the shop.

But it's not like I’m about to stop, either. 

← previous | next →

★ UPDATE SCHED; every thurs & sat (12 nn gmt+8)

© cryoculus | kaientai ✧ all rights reserved. do not repost or translate my work on other platforms without permission.

[jeonghan-yoons]

hi friends! i just wanted to let you know that i am now tracking #userngocchi for svt and gg visual content!

anyone can use my tag; we don't have to be mutuals :D please read the guidelines below before using:

visual content means gifs, gfx, edits, etc. only

gg content will be rb'ed to @kimshyunjin

i'll go through the tag once a day and if i leave a like, it's in my queue

please note that i am free to rb anything i like and not rb anything i don't like (it's nothing personal!)

if you tag me in jeonghan content, i'll give you a big kiss

mutuals are free to tag me in anything you want want me to see (it doesn't have to be content) and dw abt spamming bc i'll actually love that 💜 i never want to miss out on your creations!

[h0tchner]

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

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

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

[mandos-sluts]

The Open Hatch

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, degradation/humiliation, daddy kink, dirty talk, voyerism, mutual masterbation kind of

Summary: Mando agrees to help Toro Calican catch a bounty so that he can gain entry into the Guild. After Toro expresses interest in you, Mando decides to show him who you belong to.

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!!

You and Mando have been together ever since he hired you as his permanent mechanic a few months back. Mando couldn’t help himself around you— you were so beautiful and shy, but he could tell you had a sultry edge to you. You relished in his advances; he had you wrapped around his finger as soon as he made a move. He was a big strong bounty hunter who could fuck you like no one else. Thus began your lust-filled relationship. You and Mando travel the galaxy, he catches bounties and you attend to his piece of crap ship (of which would not be flying without you).

The Crest docs on Tatooine and the two of you are greeted by Toro Calican, a young man with whom Mando agreed to help catch a bounty so that he could get into the Bounty Hunters’ Guild.

Descending the ramp, you introduce yourselves to the overly confident, but pretty handsome boy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Toro says, shaking your hand and gazing deep into your eyes.

“Likewise.” You respond with a soft smile. You turn to Mando. “I’m gonna get started on some repairs, it shouldn’t take longer than 20 minutes.”

Toro tears his eyes away from you and motions to Mando. “How’s about you and me head to the Cantina down the street to talk business while she does her work?” Toro says.

Mando lets out a sharp exhale. “Fine.” He says shortly.

He didn’t even want to be doing this. There’s a zero percent chance he would have agreed to help Toro if it weren’t for you. Supervising some kid on a bounty hunt was the last thing he wanted to do. But you convinced him. You thought it was a nice thing to do for a kid just trying to make it on the harsh desert planet. Also, Toro only wanted this job to get into the Guild, so the deal was that Mando would get the entirety of the reward. Thus, you reasoned with Mando that there was no legitimate argument for not lending a hand.

While you’re getting started on repairs, Mando and Toro head to the Cantina and sit at a table.

“So that mechanic of yours...she’s really something.” Toro says, somewhat hesitantly.

Mando just stares back at him.

”How do you get anything done with someone like that around all the time?” Toro asks, trying to gauge Mando’s reaction. But he is once again met with a silent glare in response.

“Well, I’m just letting you know that I'm gonna ask her out.” Toro says after waiting a while for a reply. “.....I’m assuming you two aren’t together or anything.....I mean.....since you’re a Mandalorian and she’s clearly not.....so.” Toro sits up straighter. “But don’t worry, Mando! I’ll take good care of your mechanic for you.” He says with a cocky smile.

“Are we doing this job or what?” Mando says in a deep tone, completely ignoring everything Toro just said.

Toro takes a breath in. “Yeah, yeah. Here is the puck. She’s an assassin. Killed mostly for the Empire.”

Mando glances at the hologram on the table in front of him. “You don’t have the tracking fob yet, right?” He says to Toro.

“Yeah. I’ve gotta grab it from Karga. I wanted to meet with you first and, ya know, confirm everything before I claimed it.” Toro responds.

“Alright, go get the fob and then meet me back at hangar three-five. We’ll take my ship.” *see gif*

“Sounds great, partner.” Toro says excitedly.

************************************************

You hear the hatch open and Mando walks in just as you’re finishing your repairs. “Hey.” You say casually, putting your tools down.

Mando creeps towards you. “Hey there, pretty girl.” He says in a suggestive tone. His eyes are all over you. He grabs your waist and yanks you into him. His hands slide down to your butt and he lightly grinds his growing bulge against your stomach. You feel your arousal rise in your core.

“What are you doing?” You say, somewhat caught off guard at his brazen actions. While this behavior is not out of the norm for Mando, the time of day is a little unusual.

“Nothing, I’ve just been fuckin hard for you all day.” He says slipping his hands into your shorts and inching his hand toward your crotch.

“Mando, the hatch is open.” You say, squeezing his biceps.

“Peli just left, and the droids aren’t powered up. Come on baby girl just let me fuck you.” Mando purrs as his gloved fingers make contact with your clit. He chuckles. “See, you’re already soaking wet. You want this.” Mando declares. He starts circling your swollen clit with more and more pressure. Your eyes fall close and a moan escapes your lips.

“Don’t– don’t you have a job to do with that kid?” You ask.

Mando hums. “I have time. I’ll always make time to fuck this needy little cunt of yours.”

“Mandoohh.” You whine out as his middle finger begins pumping in and out of your hole. You grasp his arms and your head falls back. Your hips start bucking as your pussy itches to feel more.

Mando scoffs. “My desperate little whore.” He mutters.

Mando abruptly lifts you off your feet and walks you to a large metal box on the floor by the hatch, fingers still in your folds. He roughly bends you over the crate and you can feel his erection pushing against your ass. Yanking your shorts and panties down, Mando takes his dick out of his pants and begins rubbing his tip through your slick.

The two of you are in the hull of the ship, directly in front of the open door. You’re positioned facing the back of the ship so the door is to your left and the wall is to your right.

Your mouth drops open and you scream out as Mando shoves his entire length all the way into you. He wraps his massive gloved hand around your fragile neck as he sets his pace. “You’re such a good fuckin girl. Such a good fuckin cocksleve for me baby.” Mando praises.

You whimper in response as your eyes flutter closed. Your chest and cheek are flat against the cold metal crate and you’re facing the wall.

Mando reinforces his grip on your neck as he sees Toro slowly approaching the ship. Toro isn’t sure if he’s seeing what he thinks he is. The sun is setting, and the only light in the hangar is a small dim bulb on the wall. It sounds like Mando is torturing you, or hurting you at the very least. But once he reaches the bottom of the ramp, all Toro can do is stand in shock as he watches you get plowed by Mando.

Mando flicks his head up at Toro, greeting him in a way. And then he returns his visor to your head, which his grip is forcing to face the wall. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to, baby girl.” Mando commands in a noticeably louder voice.

“You! D-daddy! You ow– own me!” You respond almost automatically, completely oblivious to your new audience.

Mando turns his stare back to Toro, who is still standing in awe. “Only I get to fuck this tight little cunt of yours, isn’t that right?” He says looking directly at the dumbfounded kid.

“Ah! Yes– Fuck! Just– just you!” You moan back. Mando is rhythmically driving into you, stuffing you full each time his cock enters your pussy.

“Fuck, baby.” Mando grunts as he delivers a swift spank to your ass cheek. “Tell me how much you wanna be a good girl for me.” He orders.

“I– I wanna be such a– a good girl for you, daddy. Ah! I w-wanna be your fucktoy. I want you to– fuck– use me however you want. I wanna milk your– ahh– milk your cock whenever you’ll let me.” You whine throughout the harsh thrusts.

Toro stands there, listening to the downright filthy things that are coming out of your seemingly innocent mouth. He knows you don’t know he’s there, and he can’t believe that Mando can elicit such dirty words from you.

“Fuck! Harder! Daddy, please!” You scream, gripping the edges of the crate.

“Yeah? You want me to drive my big cock even deeper into this tight fuckin pussy?” Mando moves his hand from your neck onto your hips in order to better his grip on your waist and fuck you even harder.

Feeling the release of his hold, you take the opportunity to flip your head around so that you’re facing the open hatch.

That’s when you see him. Your eyes widen at the sight of Toro standing at the base of the ramp, a dark scowl dons his face. “Mando!!” You shout. You bring your chest up and try to stand up straight but Mando no sooner slams you back down, maintaining his steady pace slamming into you. You’re overcome with humiliation, but you know that Mando is getting a dark twisted pleasure out of this situation. You whimper.

“Let him watch, baby girl.” Mando brings his hand to your face and cups your chin. “Look at him. He wanted to fuck you, yeah. Let that little boy watch your pretty face while I fuck you into oblivion.” Mando says between his teeth.

Your eyes meet with Toro’s and you’re unable to look away. Toro keeps his furious gaze locked on your eyes even as you cry out and your head is propelled upward with each thrust.

Noticing how Toro’s stare is fixated on your face, Mando shoves two of his fingers into your mouth, further exhibiting his dominance over you. You suck his digits while letting out muffled moans.

Toro is heated. Mando had clearly set him up to walk in on him fucking you. Part of his brain is telling him to leave, but another part of him really, really wants to watch. He’s never been more aroused in his entire life. Watching you— your feeble petite body bent over a crate, completely unable to move, pussy stuffed with cock, mouth stuffed with fingers, tears rolling down your desperate pretty face— he can’t help but stay and watch you.

“You fuckin love this, baby girl, don’t you? You like being a filthy little slut in front of that prick, isn’t that right?” Mando mocks as he continues to plunge his length in and out of your tiny hole.

“Y-yes!” You screech out. The fact that Toro didn’t bolt the second he saw you, the fact that he is unapologetically staying and observing, somehow stimulates you even more. You’re so turned on by how sinfully Mando is flaunting you— parading his possession of you— in front of Toro. You’d be embarrassed if Toro wasn’t standing there, shamelessly taking it.

“She has the tightest pussy in the galaxy, Toro. Tell him, baby girl. Tell him how– how tight your little cunt is.” Mando instructs you.

“Ahh! It’s s-so tight. Fuck!” You sob.

Toro growls as his rage grows stronger. Mando is taunting him, shoving what he can’t have in his face, and making a point to ensure that he knows just how good that thing is, just how much he is missing out on. But Toro doesn’t want to be a mere pawn in Mando’s fucked up sexual game. If he’s going to stand here, getting mocked by Mando, he may as well get something out of it. Toro unzips his pants and releases his hardening girth. He starts stroking his dick, eyes still locked with yours. Hate-fucking his member with his hand, Toro’s eyes are full of lust for you and fuery for Mando; the combination of these battling emotion makes him even harder.

Watching Toro flagrantly take out his cock and start pumping it while peering into your soul as you get fucked out of your mind sends shock waves through your core.

“Ha. Look at that, baby, you’re such a dirty fuckin whore that you have him jerkin off to you getting railed.” Mando says in a demeaning tone. “Tell him how much of a cockslut you are for me.” Mando orders. He spanks your butt cheek when you don’t immediately comply. “Do it.”

Mando’s degrading words spur you on and something comes over you. This renewed wave of arousal makes you want to provoke Toro further— make him harder. You raise your head up slightly and perch your lips. “Ah! I’m such a– a whore for daddy, I let’em do whatever he wants to me.” You inform Toro in a pouty little girl voice. “I’m always– ah– always so hungry for his big cock, a-and he fucks my– my tight wet pussy s-so good. Fuck!” Unlike before, these aren’t remarks that you are barely managing to mumble out. You’re emphasizing each word and speaking in a higher-than-normal pitched tone. And you aren’t saying these vulgar things because simply Mando told you to, no, you are putting on a show for Toro. A show that you know makes both him and Mando even hornier.

“Yeah. An obedient little thing she is.” Mando grunts as his hand sends another harsh slap to your reddened ass cheek.

Toro’s breathing picks up as he pumps his cock faster. Your filthy words inciting a more intense mixture of rage and arousal deep within him. “Fuck you, Mando.” He spits out. Toro’s offense and anger at the situation serve to make him even harder and also satisfy Mando even further.

“Pfft, she’s fuckin me just fine.” Mando returns.

Mando violently pulls your upper body up off the box so that you’re standing flat against him. One of his hands is tight on your throat, holding your body up, and the other of his hands is on your pussy, fingers circling your swollen clit.

You scream out at the new sensation against your neglected bud and your eyes fall shut as you finally feel your orgasm climbing.

Mando turns his head and stares down at Toro. Even though there’s nothing in the world that Toro would rather be looking at than you, Mando’s look somehow compels Toro to meet his gaze and look into his visor as he fucks you. “You can watch, you can listen, I bet you can even fuckin smell her sweet cunt, but you’ll never lay a finger on her.” He says, Toro looking into Mando’s visor as Mando is vigorously rubbing your clit and impelling your hole.

Toro just glares back at him, pumping his dick faster and faster.

“Please, please! Let me cum, daddy. Please!” You beg, desperate for release.

“Oh, no, baby girl. This punk can watch you get fucked if he wants to, but only I get to watch you cum.” Mando knows exactly what he’s doing by edging you— letting Toro watch you approach your orgasm, only to deprive him of the ultimate pleasure of watching your climax completely overtake you.

“Ah!” Toro grunts, frustration boiling at the loss of spectating your climax. It's like his pleasure is linked to yours, watching you approach your orgasm, he was on the verge of cumming along with you, right before Mando kicked the stool out from under him.

“But he’s gonna watch me fill you up— brand you with my seed nice and good.” He says in a low voice.

You can’t muster up a response. Your mouth is agape and your eyes are screwed shut. Mando is ramming into you at an impossible pace; all you can feel is his cock destroying your insides. He thrusts deep into you a few more times and you can feel his girth twitch against your clenching walls.

“Ahhhh fuckk!” Mando groans as you feel him ejaculate his warm cum deep inside of you.

A few seconds later, Toro cums, biting his cheek to muffle his moans.

You pant and fall forward onto your hands over the box as Mando releases his grip on you.

The two men put themselves back in their pants while you’re bent over the box, completely disheveled, trying to catch your breath with your panties and shorts still at your ankles.

Your body is shaking as Mando gently pulls you onto your feet. He holds you up while softly pulling your clothes back up your legs and buttoning your pants for you. Mando tenderly pushes some hair out of your face and behind your ear. “D’ya get the fob?” Mando asks casually, keeping his loving gaze on you.

Toro takes a deep breath. “Yeah.” He says. Toro walks into the ship and heads up to the cockpit. You turn to walk to your sleeping quarters.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Mando says softly, grabbing your arm and turning you to face him. “I’m sorry. I’m gonna make you cum tonight— I’m gonna make you cum hard tonight, okay? Don’t worry. I’m gonna eat that sweet little cunt of yours all night long.”

************************************************

Masterlist

************************************************

Taglist: @pinkninja200 @raspberrymama @stevie75 @tacticalsparkles @kenoobiwan @shark-s @theamuz @blackrose8425 @beskarboobs @smutslutz @princess-djarinn @spideysimpossiblegirl

[whirlybirbs]

FEVER-DREAM    ;    echo/reader 

summary: echo is fine-tuning his new prosthesis. you have experience, you help. unspoken feelings are acted on. adoration blooms. you learn what mesh’la means.

word count: 3k

pairing: echo / f!reader

tags: mutual pining, lots of tender looks, victorian-era hand-touching sluttiness, echo is a gentle soul, reader is head over heels, a touch of ptsd mention, set on ord mantell, mention of our boy fives, in this house we love assistive devices, enough sexual tension to power the death star

a/n: this is me round-house kicking the bad batch writers in the throat because they made echo cosplay a droid — but, also because this man deserves to be treated as more than a means to a mission’s end. majority of you know i am ~bitter~ (understatement of the century) of tbb’s plot/design/writing. but echo has been a favorite from the original days... so have some very soft fic.

i reference character redesigns by @nibeul​ in this piece — please go peep them here, and some updated character spreads here! they’re really beautiful and add a phenomenal layer of storytelling to the existing designs that’s lacking. nibuel’s art and writing is lovely. please give them a follow — i can’t rec their work enough. 

“How does it feel?”

The words are nearly whispered; it’s clear you didn’t want to startle him, and Echo can feel the pinch in his brow soften at your sudden appearence in the doorway. 

His bunk, at the back of the Havoc Marauder, is small — the space itself even more so. There’s a makeshift partition, hooked together with spare parts and meant to offer a bit of privacy on the cramped vessel. Its slate grey color has faded, and the edges have become tattered in the cycles of use. 

When Echo pulls his dark eyes up from his work, you’re leaning against the frame — your expression is earnest.

For a moment, the once-ARC Trooper is quiet. 

He wonders if he’ll ever get used to your attention. Each and every time, it sends him into a spiral; his heart catches as he inhales and tries to push down the warm stir in his gut. The sight of you is enough, nowadays, to melt Echo’s well-maintained irritability. His attention is stolen from his ever-present pain, if only for a bit.

There are plenty of days where he misses the old him — the wide-eyed, eager ARC Trooper who had his brothers by his side. His real brothers. Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait... Fives. 

Fuckin’ hell, Fives was probably staring down at him now laughing. 

No matter what changes, you’re still shit with the ladies, vod’ika. 

In a way he hasn’t fully admitted to himself, you make him feel like himself again. Like... Like some shiny cadet, on leave and distracted by the promises of pretty smiles passing-by. It’s good.

This makes him feel... good. 

He flexes, and his right hand — the new, gunmetal durasteel cyberized-prosthesis — closes into a tight fist. It’s taken him a bit, but the feeling isn’t so foreign now. It’s still... slow. Slower than he’s used to, but you’d mentioned it may take some time. The phantom feelings get better, too. All in all, it’s a good thing.

Your own hand, your left, glimmers back in the same gunmetal color.

(Echo had never pressed you about the missing limb — not until one day, in Cid’s, you’d joined him in a quiet corner. You’d spilled your drink and a complaint about getting the star-cherry syrup out of the joints had slipped out. Echo had laughed; a real laugh, the sort that was so rare coming from him, it had you staring at him as if he’d hung ever star in the sky. 

Can I ask how it happened? he’d said, breaking the heavy silence when your eyes never left his.

The Pykes, you’d said, and that was enough.)

“I haven’t, uh... Haven’t gotten the sensory calibration right yet.”

Then, his prosthesis cramps. His fingers go rigid, and Echo curses sharply as he reaches around his forearm to quickly reboot the appendage. It goes slack, then hums alive once more.

You wince.

You’re slow to move into the room — and you settle atop one of the crates Echo had stolen from the belly of the ship, an old Mantell Mix shipping container. You’re mindful to set his datapad aside, to not disturb his space too much. Before you reach for his hand, however, you lift your chin and open your hands in your lap.

“May I?” you ask, just as soft as before.

Echo feels small under your gaze.

Truth be told, you’re doing more than just... asking. You’re taking him in — appreciating him. It’s a habit that’s grown more and more apparent to not only himself, but the others.

In recent rotations, Echo has let his hair grow out — not long, but the once close buzz he’d kept has begun to curl at the top. Not entirely dissimilair to how it was before the Citadel. The dermal implants, the ones the Techno Union installed in order to parse the nuerological data in his head, stand out against his warm-colored skin. 

His usual AJ^6-inspired headpiece is resting on his bunk.

That damn thing.

A neccesary tool. One that, given the amount of user data Tech had procured when working on modifying the implant, Echo found himself immediately distrusting. It wasn’t as if the AJ^6 cyborg construct had a beautiful track record, and frankly, Echo would like to keep his personality in tact, thank you very much. There were plenty of days he felt machine enough. 

It wasn’t often you saw him without the headset; you knew it made linking in via his scomp easier to handle, it made the visualization of data transfers as easy as breathing. For Echo, it was a part of his vast kit, an important tool. For you, seeing him without it bubbles up a bit of a smile.

Echo catches it.

His eyes narrow playfully.

He looks... well. You — hell, are there words for it? For the way the sight of him makes you feel? It’s like there’s a world full of potential there, a thousand words unsaid, and feelings that have steeped in the warmth of longing gazes and half-there touches.

You’re still looking up at him, knees bent on the crate.

You blink, realizing you’ve been caught staring — not for the first time and certainly not for the last. In the beginning, it had left a sour taste in Echo’s mouth. But, now... Well, it stokes a sort of pride in his chest that he hangs onto. 

It never gets easier to recover from — certainly not when Echo smirks. He moves to allow you to take his prosthesis into your lap. The gesture is gentle; your fingers cradle the firm yet pliable metal.

“What?” he asks. His voice, low and rough and warm, is tinted with amusement.

“Nothing,” you say vaguely with a shrug — as if that’s supposed to explain any part of your enamored stare. Your attention moves to the prosthesis.

“Nothing?” he asks, moving to thumb his left ear with his free hand with a dash of nervousness. A habit. Echo tilts his head as his fingers brush the cochlear implant there. The panel rests neatly against the side of his head, a small rounded-off square. The bite of self-consciousness has dwindled around you — but still, it creeps back up every now and again.

The Corporal’s brows knot playfully as you turn his new hand over in your lap; you’re admiring the upgraded feel, the more seamless panelling in comparison to your own. Echo watches your lashes flutter in silent thought.

Then:

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

You blink slowly at the hand, swallow down your sudden sheepishness and ignore his gaze. You bite back the smile digging into your cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks suddenly, and you look up.

A baited trick. He’s smiling. 

The warm sort — the sort reserved for you and for Omega. The two souls that hold a piece of his heart, with all its ticking valves and electric timed pulses. There are machinisms that keep him alive, and then there is you. Your wide-eyed expression melts, giving way to the sort of smile he’s tried to memorize over and over. It’s the same smile that has warded off that reoccuring nightmare of the night on the tarmac at the Citadel, the same smile that has pulled him through the grit of phantom pains.

“What—” a sudden laugh bursts from your chest, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You were staring, mesh’la,” he rumbles out as a reminder, enjoying the fact he’s suddenly become the center of your attention. Echo leans back, his boot toeing yours. You nudge it back. Your face feels hot. You ignore his pointedly teasing look with a roll of your eyes.

The nickname started a few weeks ago. You haven’t asked what it means — no, for now it’s meaning hangs in the balance. Untouched but there. The affection the word carries makes your heart feel heavier and unbelievably full.

“Bad habit,” you chirp back, looking up at him through your lashes.

His laugh is warm.

“Maybe not.”

“No,” you say quietly; your voice is soft as your eyes bounce across his face, tracing the lines of his face with your gaze, “I don’t think it is.”

There’s a silence that slips between you — a comfortable one. It’s heavier than before. That has begun to happen recently, especially with the petal-soft utterance of mesh’la becoming more and more frequent. You hold his gaze. Echo lets out a soft, contented sigh.

Then, you remember the task at hand.

You clear your throat.

“Uh... The access panel I’m looking for,” you say slowly as your raise your finger to point to your own arm, “It’s on your bicep.”

Echo blinks. He clears his own throat before looking down — he hadn’t even noticed that access panel. That could explain the jarring miscommunication stalling the limb. This model had more bells and whistles than he initally realized. 

Better than a fuckin’ scomp link, that’s for sure.

Wordlessly, Echo makes room on his bunk. You move to settle beside him, your bent leg resting aginst his hip as you half-straddle the bed; your other knee brushes his thigh — and Echo tries to sit still. You’re close, now. 

“Is it okay if...?” you trail off, fingers tugging on the short sleeve of his blacks; you pause until Echo offers a curt nod. You catch him swallow. You push onward, fingers nimbly rolling the fabric up over his broad bicep. 

Echo steals a glance your way as your fingers pass across a slip of his bare skin. 

In his lap, both his hands twitch.

He’s no small man. Lean and athletic, Echo is built like a soldier. Omega had said once that Echo was an ARC Trooper, one of the best of the best. You believed every bit of it, and you’d hung on her words when she’d rambled on about ARC training, about Kamino, and about who Echo was before you knew him. It was all in the past, though. That Echo is a part of this Echo but... They’re different men. He’s been changed by the things that have happened.

You don’t press him on the details. 

In time, they’re slipped into conversation here and there — between the here and now.  

In the beginning, when you’d found yourself amongst the crew of the Havoc Marauder — be it for a simple job on Cid’s behalf — Echo had hardly paid you a moment of attention, though you admit you’d been curious from the start. It had taken three jobs for you to finally see his face. Then began the slow and gradual bonding over catching joints, grating plates, and hardware updates. His legs, your arm. Two pieces of a pair.

Now, he has this. A beautiful new upgrade — something he’s wanted for a long time. A part of his old self is back, in a way.

You liked that it was more than just a tool. That, in having this piece of his body back, he felt like more than a tool. More than a scomp link. 

After all, he is a man — a... a very handsome man. One whose proximity is sort of distracting you, again, from the task at hand.

“The panel here,” you say as you slowly press on the seam that enables the settings panel to be revealed; you’re mindful to explain, “It controls sensory outputs, as well as synchonized synaptic commands. The panel on my forearm does the same to my hand, yours is just... well, you’ve got the new and improve version.”

Echo ducks his head as you work, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Feeling a bit jealous, mesh’la?”

“Maybe,” you breathe out with a smile. 

Then, you lift your eyes. You intended to see that he was still comfortable, but instead you come face to face with the Corporal. His nose nearly brushes yours when you lift you chin, completely dragged in by the closeness shared.

There’s a beat of tension. Echo’s mouth goes dry.

You fingers pause. You swallow hard. “How... uh, how does it feel?”

Echo tightens his grip, then releases. His breath tickles your cheeks. His eyes, a deep, warm brown, flit from your eyes to your mouth, and then back. His voice is a croak. 

“...Same as before.”

You tinker with a dial, eyes never leaving his; your voice is above a whisper. “And now?”

It’s immediate. Like a rush of cold air up his arm — and on instinct, Echo’s hand twitches. His fingers grip the fabric of his blacks, along his thigh, and... he feels it. The smooth, stretch of the material. It’s... it feels like a lot. His fingertips, metallic and cyberized, tingle. It’s distracting.

He can feel. 

His hand is slow. It moves across to bridge the space between you. His pointer finger settles on the curve of your knee; the feeling of your tactical pants beneath his fingertip is ignored, instead he chases the heat of your body.

Your breath catches at the touch. 

Echo’s face is turned to you, but... his attention has settled on his hand. His palm then sweeps across your thigh. He follows the curve, soaks in the feeling. You’re frozen in place, beating back the desperate sound of appreciation that threatens to be pulled from your throat. The touch is... more than welcomed. 

The closeness itself is making you dizzy.

Then, Echo turns — and the warm, durasteel-plated palm finds your cheek.

Your skin is hot. 

“Is this okay, mesh’la?” he whispers, words riding on a quiet exhale — the sort that make you feel... well, you don’t even have words for the way he makes you feel. Echo is... kind, honest, and loyal. Above all else, he’s gentle. Despite it all, despite every bit of horror he’d been put through, he’d never lost sight of the importance of a gentle hand. Especially now in a moment as intimate as this. It coaxes you closer.

You lean into the cybernetic attachment, cheek resting in his palm. You nod, then, with eyes eager to take in every bit of this moment.

He chuckles at the enthusiasm. Echo’s thumb, deft and smooth, then traces the line of your lower lip.

The feeling is... the gnawing pain that he’s felt for nearly a year has melted. Finally, the itch has been scratched in his brain and the hollow ache of his bones is gone. It’s relief, and comfort, and excitement and all these beautiful things — and you. 

You’re stuck — you don’t want to move, you won’t move. He’s rooted you completely, and when his other hand — the calloused and warm one of flesh and blood — finds it’s spot along your thigh, you swallow a lovesick sigh that would only exaserbate your desperation. 

Your mouth is moving before you realize it. 

“What does it mean?”

Echo’s eyes narrow, only a bit, and he runs his thumb up your cheekbone.

“What does what mean?” 

“Mesh’la,” it sounds foreign on your tongue. It’s not Hutteese or Twi’leki, not like any language you know, “Will you tell me what it means, Echo?”

The corner of his lips quirk. Your eyes jump to it.

You feel like someone’s reached right into your chest and given your heart a squeeze — and it only worsens when he laughs. He laughs, deep and quiet and warm, like a thunderstorm on a summer night. It feels cruel, to string you along like this when you’re here, lips parted, hanging off his every touch and his every word.

“Beautiful,” he says quietly as his other hand touches your jaw — it’s so damn reverent, this little moment in time, that you almost don’t believe it’s real.

It feels like a dream — like someone has come in and stolen your thoughts from you; like the unrequited yearning has finally stoked a fire large enough to burn you up entirely, a fever you never knew you wanted.

His nose brushes yours.

Your fingers wind into the fabric of his chest. You’re clinging, lost to the moment — and you can’t help wonder if this is how it feels when he catches you adoring him. He’s admiring you so tenderly that you nearly break.

You want to kiss him.

He’s thought about nothing but kissing you for the last five days at least. Longer in his dreams. Nowadays, it’s a constant pull, a constant want.

And now, it’s here — a present and current moment where it can happen. Where he can stop being a shiny cadet and he can make a move...

Enter Omega.

“Echo, we’re back—!”

The telltale hammer of a girl’s boots on the floor signals that the party is back from their supply run — but you’re so far off, spinning in a different universe, you don’t even hear her until its too late... Until Echo is yanking himself away and clearing his throat and rolling his wrist to test the prosthesis in a different way, a less intimate way. 

You blink, then rattle yourself back to the present. Omega is in the doorway staring with a quizzical look. Clearly, your state does little to dissuade the assumptions she’s already making and you can see the gears turning in her head. The dark-haired girl then slowly grins.

“Hi.”

You swallow. “Hi, Omega.”

“...Whatcha guys doin’?”

Echo coughs. “Uh, just fine-tuning the new upgrade.”

“...Riiiiiight.” 

You rub your cheeks and laugh — clearly forced and incredibly pained — as you stand up and nearly ram your head right into the top of Echo’s bunk. It’s met with a hiss of warning from the trooper as he jumps up to try and protect you from the impact. 

“Well! Uh, thanks for letting me help, Echo,” you clap, rocking back and forth on your boots, “I, uh... Oh, Cid called. I should... I should get back—”

“Yea,” he says, straining a bit to find the words, “Yea, I’ll... I’ll comm you if it starts to, uh... If it starts to act up?”

Omega watches the exchange, big brown eyes moving from left to right. 

“Good, great — yea, that’s,” you inhale as you rub your thighs and move towards the door, “Perfect. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Bye!” Omega calls, waving.

You wave back, smiling. “Bye, Omega.”

Then, once it’s only Echo and Omega in the bunk, the tween speaks.

“...What the kriff was that?”

[jiminsproof]

the most difficult tag game to ever attack me in my hour of need (what she means is a saturday) ✨️

I was tagged by @kimchokejin to post my top 5 of bangtan songs!!!!! haha THIS IS FINE!!! very happy to have an opportunity to talk about my favourite songs but VERY SAD I HAVE TO CHOOSE. 😭 thank you Ashley, reading your post was an amazing experience and I recommend it to all. 😩👌 you're lucky you're not only smart, but also funny and pretty, otherwise you'd catch these hands in the metaphorical parking lot of life

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO and no specific order:

🍷dionysus🍷

I wanted to start with a song that actually got me into bangtan!! JUNG HOSEOK YOUR MIND. I think I've told this to some of my lovely mutuals here before, but to me this song is really built like a rock song if that makes sense?? the build up and structure is so similar!! but it is also so HIP HOP and CATCHY and lyrics are ABSOLUTE ART. as a greek mythology hoe i had no choice but to stan bangtan sonyeondan. it is also widely known as natalia's wine song among my friends so you can say i like it a little.

🥲outro: tear🥲

I love this masterpiece beyond words. If I had to pick just one bangtan song to listen to forever, I'd possibly pick this one though PLEASE DON'T TELL MOM* (*my other bias). This song got me through a lot!! The lyrics are so beautiful and heartbreaking, and it hits even more after you know the context in which they were written. YOONGI MARRY ME as usual he is a genius he said so himself but also Hobi kills me every single time with his performance of the last verse. I have NEVER not cried watching a live performance of him rapping it. The emotions he gets across are... pardon my French but holy fuckity fuck.

😩lie😩

speaking of my other bias... LISTEN. I love Filter as any other folk BUT if I have to pick just one out of Jimin's solo songs, it has to be this one. It has it all, beautiful performance, identity crisis vibes, stunning vocals of the baby himself, AND THOSE LYRICS TOO. It hits so much especially if you've had to hide yourself in one way or another, and it can be applied to so many situations - power of art and Park Jimin. also, in my mind, this one and bs&t are connected...? idk if by the vibes or the era, but I love both of them almost equally, though this one still hits harder. also, although the performance completes it very well and Jimin can express the emotions so well through movement (one of my very favourite things about him as a performer), it can easily stand on its own and it's still so captivating!!

🦋butterfly🦋

This song is so beautiful in EVERY SINGLE WAY. The soft vocals, the longing, the lyrics!! It's such a good depiction of young love (or just very soft love, sort of 'too-good-to-be-true' love), NOT TO MENTION THE HARUKI MURAKAMI REFERENCE I SEE YOU KIM NAMJOON (and I love you). It might be my favourite track from the whole HYYH era actually though please don't ask me 'and what about [insert track] cause I WILL change my mind. The vocal line shines in this one, not only for their skill but PRIMARILY their emotional expression. I'm a big fan in case you haven't noticed??

🦢 black swan 🦢

I honestly love this song so much!! Not only is the concept beautiful and the performance is ABSOLUTELY STUNNING HAVE NEVER BEEN DONE BEFORE (bangtan sonyeondan trendsetters), and even the mv is something you can watch multiple times in one go because it's so aesthetically pleasing, but also there is the song IN ITSELF. It's so raw and honest, and let me preach about the lyrics once again (KIM NAMJOON!!! CATCH THESE HANDS!!!) - it's such an amazing depiction of an artistic burnout, oh my god. the idea in itself that the first time an artist (or here more so a dancer) dies is when they no longer have energy to continue with their craft... IT'S SO POWERFUL.

🤧epilogue: young forever🤧 no this is not 6 you just can't count sorry you had to find out this way

this one is just always going to hit different, and even more so the live version. the lyrics are... I can't even stress it enough, but they might have altered something in my brain chemistry. The idealisation of youth, never wanting your best moments to end, but also knowing that there is no way to stop the time from passing - WOW. WOW. Also I especially love the lines about running endlessly towards your dream even if it hurts you - it just HITS SO HARD. Even though in terms of the way it's built, it's quite a simple song, it really gets the message across perfectly and I love it for its straightforwardness!!

honorable mentions: whole bts discography actually but especially autumn leaves, mic drop (my most streamed bangtan song), boy meets evil, epiphany (I WISH IT MADE TO THIS LIST TF it's so important to me), paradise, outro: her (BIPHOBIC THAT I CAN'T PUT IT ON THIS LIST), magic shop, intro: persona, first love, make it right, home, intro: singularity (AND SAME WITH THISONEHSIFKDK) .. ok I should stop???

hello to my fellow sufferers 🫂💗 I'm doing this out of love I swear, and also NO PRESSURE AT ALL this shit hurts: @pjm-1 , @wistfulocean, @shrimpmsg, @aprylynn, @hopeonthestreets, @hopeinthebox, @cordiallyfuturedwight, @ki-limepie. 💗

[han-ban-bam]

Hello All! I have hit a follower Milestone thanks to a whole bunch of lovely people, TYSM to the stars and back! So I'm throwing a celebration! 🧡

This is going to be potentially... worlds away from other celebrations as it were. I've seen content on my dash before now but I'm making an event of it. Literally.

🥁🥁🥁🥁

Welcome to HBB's AU-Natural!

✨Celebrating AUs bc everything is golden✨

Canon got you down? You want ur fav to be a whole new thing? Here I am to enable you!

Whether its just changing one element of canon or booting the whole cast into a whole other world, lets make it happen!

To All AU's out there;; 👀👀👀👀 I would like to see! Granted if it’s a fandom I’ve not interacted with I may not know what’s what but still!!!

Wanna' see the gang in a different time period? Excellent idea!

Wanna' see X Y & Z in another piece of media entirely? Oh hell yeah!

Wanna' see the show with a change that's just a side step to the left of canon? Chefs Kiss.

Event to be held from: April 19th to April 23rd

I shall be tracking the event with the hashtag HBBAUnatural and please @ me to make doubly sure I see it!

Love to see what you come up with!

Some rules for the event;

No underage/non-con/incest

NSFW is welcome, I won't be reblogging it to my blog however if it doesn't have a click-through/readmore.

If you do throw NSFW content into the fray please tag accordingly with; Minors DNI or nsfw.

Don't have to follow me to participate! The more the merrier!

Already got some AU stuff? Fantastic! Mix it in and let it get in the spotlight!

Art, writing, edits, videos, gifs: all forms are welcome!

Wanna' take part but no idea where to start? Here are some of my own AU content for inspiration! It’s all SPN, no surprise there :

IDEAS

- Star Wars

- Kingdom Hearts

- Big Wings

- Pokemon

- Black Tie

Tagging mutual/creators below for signal boosting 🙏 (message me if u'd like to be removed from the list bc i will be reblogging this again in the future):::

@mjulmjul @floral-cas @brickshithousedean @destieldisaster @cinderwingcas @seraphcastiel @castiellesbian @avaarts @lemon-wedges @bendingsignpost @emeraldcas @thisisapaige @ltleflrt @lizleeillustration @one-more-offbeat-anthem @castinkywinky @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @spneventsdirectory @justcastiel @cascats @paxdracona