#your writing is beautifully amazing!!!

[quillium]

Heya! This isn't really an "ask you"- haha. But I just wanted to write to you- for quite a bit honestly. First of all, I hope you're well. The first piece of work I've read of yours was "Ben & May's". I absolutely loved it. I read it way back in 2020. I was 15 years old, kinda angry at the world lmao. But I found my solace in reading and writing stuff by strangers on the internet. I commented on your story- which in fact was one of the first and only times I ever bothered interacting with someone online. I don't know why, but reading your story made me warm. Warm to the core. And I wanted to share my own story! About how I related to an incident in the fic, because I snuck out of my house with a broken arm to participate in the science fair at school. You responded sometime later and congratulated me and told me to take care of myself. And you said something else too. It might have been in a joking way but you said something along the lines of "You're literally Peter Parker lmao". I don't know why but that really stuck with me. Peter Parker is a character I grew up worshipping, I'd read all the comics and watch every show with him in it with my dad. I've always loved school and learning new things, but it was always hard for me to find confidence. My dad and I are pretty tight but I can't say the same for me and my mom. And for a great chunk of my life, I've had to live with her, which didn't exactly yield the greatest upbringing (which you can probably tell by the way I'm writing to you now haha). So when someone even humouredly made that comparison- I was super taken aback. Super doubtful. But I was awestruck too. I've never been complimented before- in such a meaningful way from anyone other than my dad (that has since changed thankfully, but at the time young me was still recovering from huge life changes). So it really got me to take a good look at my life and actually embrace being who I wanted to be. I started picking up stuff at school again, and I made friends. I started writing. I hung out with my dad more- of course, watched so much Spiderman and read so many comics. I managed to graduate high school early. Now I'm at university. I graduate soon. I took up Biology and Chemical Engineering. And I'm happy. I never really forgot you, or your writing which gave me so much comfort. I logged back on AO3 recently and was super happy to still see you writing. I just knew I had to reach out. Now I apologize if this is like weird, but I just had to put this out there. Thank you, really- thank you for your warm response and the art you put into the world. I don't think you'd even remember my comment on your work or this small interaction, but to me, it made a whole lot of difference. I really hope you're well, and continue to be. I can't believe I made a tumblr account just for this qwq XOXO

BRO I REMEMBER YOU. When your comment came in, I was 17-years-old, living more in the world of my writing than reality, right about to enter university, and even if I was half-joking I was also low-key dead serious that you were literally Peter Parker. I was, and continue to be, incredibly impressed by you. I think I might have told my sister about you in a sort of like, dang, there are some brilliant and crazy people in the world, and they're reading my fics for some reason sort of way.

I'm doing very well! I've grown closer to my family, built lovely friendships, and am also set to graduate university (perhaps predictably, I'm a literature major). As weird as this might sound in turn, a great deal of my confidence and growth was built by comments like yours. There's nothing half as sweet as the portion of someone's life given to you because they saw a bit of their story in yours, and that glimpse of someone else's reality opens up the possibilities for mine. No matter the wonderful little interaction we had, it has been meaningful and a pleasure for me. You've given me a great deal of warmth as well.

Congratulations on the rebuilt confidence, the new things you've learned, the friends you've made, your seriously incredible academic achievements, and the many other delights that I'm sure you've attained. You really have worked diligently, relaxed peacefully (I hope!), and lived wonderfully. Good job, and I hope you continue to live well <3

[sungie]

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OMYGOD ITS SO TENDER AND SWEET AND JUST THE BEST EVER YOU REALLY DO ALWAYS COME UP WITH THE BEST LITTLE SCENARIOS AND IM GEN KIKCKING MY FEET GIGGLIGN RN

after-shower hair-care | boyfriend!wriothesley x fem!reader

wriothesley blowdries your hair after you take a shower. (he's hopelessly in love with you).

(´• ω •`) ♡ the only fem pronoun in here is 'ma'am' <3

you sit between wriothesley’s knees, head slumping into his lap as he cards his fingers through your hair. the blow dryer is warm and so are his hands as he dries the damp strands, fingers gentle as he massages oil onto your scalp. you’re drifting in and out of sleep, stirring slightly when you feel his hands move to caress the curve of your cheek. 

“my turn, babe.”

you shuffle, turning to face him, vaguely noticing that he’s tied your hair up in a claw clip. 

“wrio…” you mumble, pressing your cheek against his thigh. “m’ tired. later.”

“nuh-uh,” he says, eyebrow raised. “i want my hair done too.” 

you wrap your arms around his waist, eyes shut. he smells like your peach body wash. 

“but you’re so comfy.” 

you can’t see the smile on wriothesley’s lips as he puts his arms on each of your shoulders and shakes. 

“wriothesley!” you exclaim, his laugh contagious as you brace your hands on his knees. slightly dizzy, you look up at him as his body shakes from laughter, eyes gleaming. his hair is still damp from the shower, a towel around his neck as he holds a blow dryer in his hands. it doesn’t help that he’s not wearing a shirt, either. “you-” 

a blast of hot air in your face. your mouth drops as wriothesley turns the blow dryer on max, turning the heat down after he remembers your complaints about how hot the blow dryer gets. 

“don’t go falling asleep on me, pretty.” he says, tilting your chin up. “or i’ll blow dry your cute face.”

“wrio-” 

he cuts your words off with his lips, ever so gentle as he kisses your complaints away. he pulls away and your dizziness is back. 

“i’m gonna get you back.” you pout, getting up to trade places with him on the bed. “i’ll show you what these fists taste like.” 

“yes, ma'am.” wriothesley salutes. you groan. 

“oh god.” you look down at him as he sits on the carpet between your legs, his legs crossed lazily as he bats his eyelashes up at you. he hands you the blow dryer. “you were into that, weren’t you!” 

“i’m into you.” wriothesley corrects. he’s incredibly smug. you hide behind your palm as you blush, biting the inside of your cheek as his hands gently remove any obstructions from your face. “let me see your pret-”

you turn the blow dryer on max. 

“oh, i like you.” wriothesley says in between his laughter, turning so that you can focus your attention on his hair. “love you, actually.” he corrects. 

“love you too.” you say, ruffling the black and gray strands of his hair. he places a kiss on your knee. you pause before kissing the crown of his head. 

you continue blow drying his hair, towling the strands occasionally. wriothesley’s thankful you’re so focused on his hair that you don’t notice how warm his face has gotten, nor his crimson red cheeks as he blushes into his palm.

[rafecameronssl4t]

Ok hear me out....

What would happen if Sofia still wanted to try to get with Rafe so she befriends reader in hopes of getting on his good side.

Anyway, I loved Never Say Never!! keep up the AMAZING writing queen!!! Much love!

Who invited you? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

A/n: love this request!!!

Warnings: swearing, smoking, typical Rafe being Rafe

Word count: 1,947

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

Sofia’s eyes widened slightly as the taxi pulled up in front of your house on Figure Eight. She double-checked your text message, confirming that this luxurious beachfront home was indeed your address.

Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, she took a deep breath and made her way to the front door. Her heart pounded as she knocked, the sound echoing in the quiet of the early evening. After a few seconds, the door swung open, revealing a young boy who looked to be a couple of years younger than her.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his eyes curious but friendly. “Hi! I’m here for Y/n’s, uhm—” Sofia began nervously, glancing down at the text message on her phone for reassurance.

“Oh! Yeah, she’s out back on the boat. You’re here pretty early,” he said, cutting her off with a friendly smile. He stepped aside, opening the door wider. “Come on in. I’m Jayden, by the way, Y/n’s brother.”

Jayden extended his hand for a handshake. Sofia hesitated for a moment, a bit taken aback by the formal gesture, but then she smiled and shook his hand warmly.“Nice to meet you, Jayden,” she replied, feeling a bit more at ease.

Jayden led her through the spacious, elegantly decorated interior of the house. Sofia couldn’t help but admire the high ceilings, the tasteful art on the walls, and the overall sense of coastal luxury that pervaded the home. They walked through a large living room with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a stunning view of the marshland and the sound beyond.

As they stepped outside, the backyard opened up to a beautifully landscaped garden that led to a long dock stretching out over the marsh grass. Sofia’s eyes widened again as she spotted the boat—more of a yacht—docked at the end of the pier.

“They’re just in there,” Jayden said, pointing towards the yacht. His casual tone made it seem like having a yacht was no big deal, but Sofia couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Thank you,” she said, offering him a grateful smile before starting down the dock. Sofia was slightly taken aback when you invited her to your house for a boat trip after only knowing her for a couple of days. She had hoped you might be the typical kook bitch like every other on the island, but you had been so sweet and kind, which made her feel guilty. After all, Sofia’s initial intent was to get to know you only to get closer to Rafe.

Stepping onto the luxurious yacht, she noticed the quietness, save for the soft lapping of the water against the hull. The deck was immaculate, with plush seating and gleaming railings, exuding an air of understated elegance. Sofia took a moment to steady herself, her nerves and guilt mingling.

~

“Rafe,” you quietly giggle, his lips trailing along your jawline as his hand moves up your thigh, deftly untying your bikini bottom. “Someone could see!” you try to reason, though the way you tilt your head to give him better access contradicts your words.

“Yeah? Like who?” he chuckles, making you playfully roll your eyes. “Oh—” a sudden voice interrupts, making you turn your head toward the sound. Your eyes widen at the sight of Sofia standing there awkwardly. You gently push Rafe off of you, causing him to groan in protest.

“Babe, c’mon—” Rafe’s gaze follows yours and lands on Sofia. He pauses for a moment before he rolls his eyes, reluctantly helping you adjust your bikini bottoms as you quickly stand up and retie them securely. You offer Sofia an awkward smile, noting her eyes darting between you and Rafe.

“Sof, you’re here a bit early,” you chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. Sofia slowly nods, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Yeah, sorry about that,” she apologizes, shifting uncomfortably. “It’s okay—” you begin, but Rafe cuts you off, his tone sharp and irritated.

“What is she doing here?” he snaps at Sofia, his eyes narrowing. You turn to him, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I invited her, Rafe. Do you have a problem with that?” you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. The tension between you is palpable as Rafe rolls his eyes and stands up, grabbing a shirt to put on.

“Whatever,” he mumbles, brushing past you and Sofia. “I’ll be inside,” he calls out over his shoulder before slamming the door behind him with a loud thud.

The silence that follows is heavy and awkward. You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself, and offer Sofia a more genuine smile. “I’m really sorry about that. Come on, let’s go inside and get a drink or something,” you suggest, hoping to ease the tension. Sofia nods, clearly relieved to move past the uncomfortable moment.

You lead her towards the yacht’s main cabin, the earlier tension slowly dissipating with each step. As you enter, the soft lighting and elegant interior create a warm and inviting atmosphere. You gesture towards the plush seating area and the small, well-stocked bar.

“Make yourself comfortable,” you say, heading to the bar to pour drinks. “What would you like?” “Just water, please,” Sofia replies, her voice still a bit shaky. You hand her a glass of water and take a seat beside her. “I’m really glad you came,” you say sincerely. “I wanted to get to know you better.” Sofia smiles, albeit a bit hesitantly. “Thanks. I appreciate the invite.”

“Of course,” you smile, taking a sip of your drink. A moment of silence follows, filled only by the distant sound of water lapping against the hull. “I’m really sorry for interrupting you and Rafe. I—” Sofia begins, but you shake your head, giving her a reassuring pat on the leg.

“Please, don’t worry about it,” you say, trying to put her at ease. Another awkward silence ensues, your eyes wandering around the luxurious interior for a moment. The elegant furnishings and soft lighting create a serene atmosphere, but the tension lingers.

“Is Rafe okay with me being here?” Sofia questions, glancing down the hallway to where Rafe had disappeared.“I don’t really know what his problem is, to be honest. Do you guys know each other personally?” you ask, tilting your head at her. Sofia quickly swallows her drink and wipes the corners of her mouth.

“No, not really. I just see him often when I’m working,” she replies, nodding. You hum in response, pondering her answer. “So, uh, how long have you and Rafe been together?” Sofia asks, her fingers drumming nervously against the table.

“Three months now, I think? But we’ve known each other since we were in nappies. Our parents are best friends,” you explain, smiling as you swirl the contents of your drink in your glass. “Wow,” Sofia says, clearly surprised. She hadn’t realized you and Rafe had such a long history.

“What about you, Sof? Got anyone special?” you playfully tease, causing her to chuckle. “There’s this guy,” she starts, and your eyes widen with interest. “Tell me more!” you urge, fully turning your body towards her. She chuckles again, a bit more at ease now.

“I’ve liked him for so long. He’s always at the country club, and he’s just so—so gorgeous,” Sofia sighs, resting her chin on her hand as she thinks of Rafe. “But what’s stopping you?” you ask, noticing her eyes dart away. “He’s got a girlfriend,” Sofia says, her tone defeated. Your lips form an ‘o’ of understanding.

“That’s tough,” you sigh, feeling sympathy for her predicament. “Unrequited love is the worst.” Sofia nods, her eyes looking down at her drink. “Yeah, it is. But it’s nice to talk about it, though.”

“I’m glad you feel that way,” you say, giving her a warm smile. “So, this guy,” you say, circling back to the topic. “Does he know how you feel?” Sofia shakes her head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ve never told him. I mean, he’s with someone else, and I don’t want to cause any drama.”

“That’s understandable,” you say thoughtfully. “But sometimes, it’s better to be honest with your feelings. You never know—maybe he feels the same way but doesn’t know how to approach it.” Sofia’s eyes flicker with a mix of hope and uncertainty. “I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

The evening wears on and it was soon time for other people to arrive. You glance at your watch, realizing how much time has passed. “I should probably check on Rafe,” you say, standing up. “Want to come with me?” Sofia hesitates but then nods. “Sure, why not.”

You both head down the hallway towards the cabin where Rafe retreated earlier. As you open the door, you find him lounging on a couch, scrolling through his phone. He looks up, his expression softening when he sees you but hardening slightly at the sight of Sofia.

“Hey, we were just talking and thought we’d check on you,” you say, smiling. Rafe shrugs. “I’m fine. Just needed a breather.” You sit down beside him, and he pulls you close to him while Sofia stands awkwardly by the door. The tension is still there, but you hope that with time, things will become smoother.

~

“How are you okay with this?” Rafe questions, taking a long drag from his cigarette before exhaling, the smoke dancing around him. You swat the smoke away from your face, trying to avoid its acrid scent.

“What do you mean?” you reply, confusion evident in your tone. Rafe scoffs, shaking his head in frustration. His gaze drifts over to where Sofia is sitting beside Sarah, their laughter and conversation seemingly distant from the tension between you and Rafe. He locks eyes with Sofia for a moment before turning back to you.

“It’s so fuckin’ obvious she likes me, babe,” he says, his eyes now trained on the water, his voice tinged with annoyance. His words catch you off guard, and you’re taken aback slightly.

“What?” you manage to utter, your mind racing to process his statement. “Why else would she wanna be friends with you?” Rafe continues, his tone hurtful and biting. The sting of his comment hits you hard, a mix of shock and pain swirling inside you.

“Rafe, that’s not fair,” you protest, trying to keep your voice steady despite the hurt you feel. “She’s trying to be my friend. Not everything revolves around you.” Rafe scoffs again, the sound dismissive and cold. “You’re too trusting, babe. Can’t you see she’s using you to get to me?”

You shake your head, disbelief mingling with the hurt. “Sofia has been nothing but nice to me. She’s not like that.” Rafe’s eyes finally meet yours, a flicker of something unreadable in his gaze. “You’re too naive. She likes me, and it’s obvious to everyone but you.”

The weight of his words settles heavily on your heart. You glance over at Sofia, who is now looking in your direction, concern etched on her face. The night’s events swirl in your mind, and you can’t help but feel a pang of betrayal, even though you want to believe in Sofia’s sincerity.

“Maybe you’re right,” you say softly, looking down at the deck, unable to meet his gaze. “But I still want to give her a chance.” Rafe exhales sharply, the smoke dissipating into the night air. “Do what you want,” he mutters, standing up and tossing his cigarette into the water. “Just don’t come crying to me when it all falls apart.”

“Rafe,” you softly call out, but he’s already walking away, his back rigid with frustration. Sofia, who had been watching from afar, makes her way towards you. As she passes by Rafe, he grabs her forearm, pulling her close to whisper something in her ear

You watch as Sofia’s face drops, the color draining from her cheeks. Her eyes widen, and she looks almost stricken. Rafe releases her arm and continues on his way, disappearing inside the yacht.

Sofia stands there for a moment, frozen, before she slowly makes her way to you. The concern in her eyes is palpable, and her usual bright demeanor is clouded by whatever Rafe just told her. “Sof, are you okay?” you ask, worry lacing your voice. You gently place a hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her.

Sofia takes a shaky breath, avoiding your gaze. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she replies, but her voice trembles, betraying her true feelings. “What did he say to you?” you press gently, sensing the weight of whatever Rafe whispered to her.

Sofia hesitates, her eyes darting away. “It’s nothing, really,” she insists, though her tone is unconvincing. “Just… Rafe being Rafe.” You frown, not satisfied with her evasive answer. “Sofia, you can tell me. If Rafe said something to upset you, I need to know.”

She finally meets your eyes, her expression a mix of confusion and hurt. “He told me to stay away from you,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “He said I’m not welcome here and that I should leave you alone.”

Sofia’s eyes well up with tears, but she quickly blinks them away. “He’s right you know. And I’m so sorry, I’m just gonna go.”

[blueberryxbloom]

♥︎ 𝐒𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞, 𝐃𝐨𝐯𝐞 ♥︎

[Bird-hybridbfxreader]

|Smut warning|

Read at your own risk since idk what other warnings beside smut to put.

Your boyfriend is a renowned bird-hybrid singer whose voice is unmatched. His voice has left many listeners awestruck worldwide and has been described as heavenly.

You always praise him and tell him that listening to him singing is like hearing an angel sing, but he remains humble and downplays his amazing abilities whenever he hears your compliments.

While also reassuring you of your own singing talent, telling you that you're the one that sounds like an angel as he thrusts deep inside you, making you feel like you're in heaven.

As he held firmly onto your waist, his lips gently trailed kisses along your shoulder.

"Mmm..you sing like an angel,"he murmured breathlessly. He continued to thrust deep inside you slowly with a steady rhythm, drawing out moans and gasps from you. "Your voice is heavenly and intoxicating. I want to hear more of your sweet melodies, my beautiful dove."

He thrusted harder and faster, driving you to moan louder with pleaure. "I know you can sing louder than that, dove," he said as his hand reached out to fondled your breast. "Sing louder for me. I can feel you getting closer to hitting that high note. Let your beautiful voice soar for me."

Each of his words and thrusts made you raise your voice, filling the room with your gasps and moans, a sweet melody that he loved and only he could hear.

"Mmm..that it", he encouraged, his voice filled with pleaure and adoration. "Let me hear how beautiful you can sing... Let it all out, dove".

Your hands grip the sheets, your knees trembled, and your body arched as you cried out his name, finally reaching your climax. He loved your voice, the feeling of you cumming around his massive cock, and the sight of you on all four while he fuck you from the back but wished he could see your beautiful face as he floated your inside with his cum.

As your face fell into the nears pillow, the last thing you heard was his gentle voice.

"You sang beautifully, my beautiful dove,"he said, his voice filled with tenderness and love. "I love you more than anything." With those words echoing in your mind, you drifted into dreamland.

Author ramble

I was listening to Brooklyn Baby,Religion, Tulsa Jesus Freak, Freak, A&W, Radio,... ect all by thee queen, Lana del Rey while writing this.

[bruh-myguy-what]

Wow.

Goodbye, and Other Impossible Words

Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader / Echo x Medic!Reader

Words: 16,500

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, depression, slight insecure reader, mutual pining, a lil jealousy, smut, dirty talk, praise kink, unprotected sex, fingering, face-sitting, cockwarming, creampie, handjobs, and lots of feelings!

Summary: Echo knows he made the right choice, he knows he needs to see this through with Rex, even if it meant leaving you behind. But that doesn’t mean it didn't hurt to say goodbye, nor does it mean it’s easy to see you struggling when he returns to Pabu.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, and reblogged my Rex fic! I was expecting like 5 notes so to say I’m pleasantly surprised is an understatement.

I rewrote this about five times before I was at least somewhat satisfied enough to share, and each time it got longer so I had to cut it off somewhere or risk splitting into parts. I have a backlog of finished works to post, and I can't decide which to publish next, so I’m open to suggestions for who you'd like to see next week!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

“You’re really leaving, aren’t you?”

Echo stills, his head hanging slightly before he turns to you. Your voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, and there's no accusation in your words, only a deep, weary sadness.

For a moment, you look so tired.

“I have to, cyare. You know that.” His voice is low, his own eyes mirroring your emotions.

You look down, your hands wringing together as you take a slow, deep breath.

Echo’s chest aches.

He takes a step closer, and then another, and another, until he’s standing in front of you, the two of you toe-to-toe. You’ve always known that Echo wouldn’t be around forever, just as he’s always known that this isn’t the life you deserve. It is something you never speak of, but something both know all too well.

Your shoulders tremble, just a little.

“I know, I just…” You suck in a breath. “I’m going to miss you.”

Your voice breaks on the last syllable, and Echo feels something in his own chest shatter with it.

He wraps you in his arms. “Me too.”

You melt into his touch, your head coming to rest against his shoulder. You stay like that for a few minutes, neither saying a word, just breathing each other in, holding onto each other like you never have before.

Eventually, you pull away, wiping at your eyes with the heel of your hand. He can see you trying to pull yourself together, putting your mask back into place and hiding away the pain you feel.

You give him a small, watery smile.

His stomach twists.

“When you come back, tell me what it means,” you say, your voice barely more than a whisper.

“What?”

“Cyare.”

Echo feels a pang in his chest. He swallows the lump forming in his throat. “I will.”

There’s a beat of silence, the two of you staring at each other with the same longing in your eyes, until Echo turns away, looking down at the floor.

“I should get going. Rex and I…”

“No, it’s fine.” You give him that smile again, the same one you always do, but he sees a little of the light in your eyes dim. “Go. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Echo swallows, and nods.

With that, you turn and leave, disappearing around the corner, the sound of your footsteps fading as you get further and further away.

He watches you go.

The room is cold, suddenly, the silence deafening.

Echo clenches his jaw, and lets out a breath through his nose. He stands there, alone, for a few more minutes, staring at the empty doorway where you once were, where you were going to stay.

And then, he walks out.

Echo’s promise to keep in touch with you fell apart some time between leaving you behind on Coruscant and his first real mission with Rex. The thought of you, and his guilt at leaving, and the fear that you would move on without him, was too much for him to handle. It was better this way. Safer. For you, and for him.

He kept telling himself that.

It worked, too, for a while.

But then he’d come back from a mission and see a flash of your hair and feel a stab in his chest, and he’d remember the way you smiled when he called you cyare, or the way your eyes would light up whenever he managed to say something you thought was funny, or the feeling of your fingers as you bandaged his wounds, and then…

It hurt.

So he pushed you out of his mind, and tried not to think about you. He’d tell himself it was fine, that this was for the best.

It was fine.

Really.

Still, he couldn’t help but look forward to it when he was tasked with asking for Tech’s help deciphering the drive. The entire trip to Pabu, he’d felt restless, jittery, eager. It was strange. He hadn’t felt this way since his first assignment on Rishi Station, back when he’d been young and idealistic and desperate to make a difference.

It wasn’t a bad feeling.

But now that he’s here, descending the ramp of the Remora, his nervousness has returned, along with a tight knot of dread in his stomach.

Hunter greets him first, clasping his hand in his own. Echo can’t help but return the smile on Hunter’s face, though he can feel his own falter slightly as his gaze flickers past the other man’s shoulder, his eyes darting around the landing zone.

Omega and Tech are next, the former throwing herself into his arms as soon as she is close enough to reach. “We’ve missed you!” She exclaims.

“It hasn’t been that long,” he replies, chuckling lightly, though his attention is elsewhere.

“Is everything alright?” Tech’s question pulls his focus back. He catches Echo’s gaze drifting over his shoulder, no doubt looking for their missing teammate.

“Yeah, it’s just…” Echo pats Omega’s shoulder and withdraws, pushing himself to stand up straight, though the tension remains in his spine. He cranes his head around the group in the hopes of catching sight of you. “Where is she?”

Hunter and Tech share a look, the latter clearing his throat.

“Echo, I think —“

“Where is she?” he repeats, his impatience winning out.

The three clones freeze, their smiles disappearing. Hunter’s mouth twitches, his lips pressing into a thin line. “She wanted to be here, but —“

“But what?” Echo asks, his brow furrowing.

Tech and Hunter look at each other again. Echo can feel his pulse starting to quicken, the dread in his stomach growing. Something isn’t right.

Tech takes a step closer. He reaches out, putting a hand on Echo’s arm.

“Echo!”

His head snaps up.

He catches a glimpse of gold as the figure approaches, your feet moving at a near run, and his heart stutters in his chest.

You come to a stop a few feet away, and Echo drinks you in, taking in every detail, every change since he last saw you.

You are still just as beautiful as ever.

You are almost unrecognizable without your plastoid armor. Your hair is longer, and you’ve forgone the standard-issued fatigues for a flowing skirt and sandals. A loose tank top bares your arms and chest to the tops of your breasts. He feels his mouth go dry at the sight of so much bare skin on display, far more than he’s ever seen of you. Pabu’s sun is good to you. Your tanned skin glistens with slight perspiration, and a faint pink flush graces your cheeks that have more freckles than he remembers.

Echo shakes himself in an effort to stop staring. The last thing he wants is to scare you off when you’re finally together again, however brief that time will be.

You thankfully don’t seem to notice. A grin threatens to split your face from ear to ear, and Echo is convinced you’re about to launch yourself into his arms as Omega does until you stop short.

“Hi,” you say shyly, holding your elbows behind your back.

Echo has the overwhelming urge to close the distance and wrap his arms around you.

He shoves the desire down, forcing a casual grin.

“Hi.” His voice comes out rough, and he coughs in an attempt to clear his throat. “You look great — I mean, good. Healthy. That’s…it’s good. Good to see you.”

Dikkut, he curses to himself. He reaches up to rub the warmth blooming on the back of his neck. He has never been a smooth talker, but it’s even worse when it comes to you. He’s lucky that you never seem to take offense to his blunders.

“You too, Echo.” You smile, a bit of color rising on your cheeks. Is your face flushed from running, or are you blushing? “Looks like Rex hasn’t run you too ragged yet.”

“That’s why I’m here, actually.” He looks toward Tech, eager for the subject change. “I need your help.”

“Let’s go somewhere private,” Hunter suggests. As Echo falls into step with Tech, Hunter leads you down toward your homes. You pick up the rear with Omega, the two whispering to each other about something he can’t hear.

Echo glances back over his shoulder. Your eyes meet, and your face lights up with a smile that makes his breath catch. He looks away quickly, turning his attention back to Tech.

He can’t get distracted, not when he has a mission.

Once settled around the table in the house the boys share with Omega, he explains what they’re hoping to find on the drive. Tech looks eager to get started.

“This will take some time,” he says over his datapad. “I suggest we find a place for you to spend the night.”

“The Remora has—”

“I have a spare bedroom,” you offer, popping your head into the doorway from the kitchen. You have a dish towel draped over your shoulder, a large bowl filled with something green and steaming in your hands, and something about the way you look makes his heart stutter.

You smile warmly at him. A familiar heat pools low in Echo’s gut at the thought of spending the night with you, but he pushes it down hard. Hunter and Tech watch him, their eyes narrowed. Echo feels their stares boring into him and squirms a little under their scrutiny.

“Thanks, cyare,” Echo breathes out. He can feel his ears heating up as he looks up at you. “That would be great.”

“Great,” you smile back. “Omega, can you help me set the table?”

“Coming!” Omega chirps, hopping off your chair. When you disappear into the kitchen, Hunter turns back to Echo, propping his elbows up on the table.

“You gonna do anything about that?” He asks, his voice low.

Echo stiffens.

The others have known for a long time how he feels about you, and while he’s never outright admitted it, they’ve never had to ask. Still, the way they’re looking at him now makes his skin crawl, and he finds himself unable to meet their gazes.

“About what?”

“He is referring to your romantic interest in her,” Tech interjects, still focused on his datapad. At the stunned silence that follows, he glances up and looks between the two of them. “I thought it was obvious. Even Omega has noticed.”

Echo sighs, rubbing a hand over his eyes as he sinks into his chair. He’s been trying so hard not to think about it or acknowledge the fact that despite his efforts, his feelings for you are stronger than ever.

Hunter leans back, giving him an appraising look. “How long has it been?”

Echo hesitates.

“Five months, ten days,” Tech answers.

Echo’s mouth drops open and his jaw hangs slack.

Hunter smirks.

Tech looks back down at his datapad, a slight hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

They all know how long it had been, because they’d all been there for it, and the memories of those first few months after you had joined the team were some of Echo’s fondest.

It had started off small, a quick brush of your hand against his, the two of you sitting close enough together that your legs touched. At first, he didn’t realize what was happening. You’d been nice to him before, of course, but then it was different. It was…flirting.

He didn’t know what to do.

So he kept his distance, and he avoided you, and he pretended he didn’t notice the way your smile fell every time he turned away.

And then you got hurt.

Echo could still remember the feeling of your blood on his hand.

You’d been so quiet the entire trip home, and even when you’d finally made it to the med bay, you barely spoke. It was so unlike you, and he hated it. You were always patching them up, always smiling and joking and trying to keep their spirits up. To see you like that, to see you hurt and vulnerable, it terrified him.

When the others had left you to rest, Echo had stayed behind, unable to bring himself to leave.

Your head had lolled toward him, your eyes barely open.

“Stay with me?” You whispered.

“Always.”

It had been a simple promise, a quiet one, and he’d kept it, through everything, through all the missions, all the fights, and the long nights spent patching each other up. Until he left you behind.

Echo crosses his arms over his chest. His pulse starts to speed up again, his heart hammering in his chest. He takes a deep breath, and then another, willing himself to calm down.

Hunter and Tech share a look, one that speaks of an entire conversation in a single glance.

Tech nods, and Hunter looks back at him. His expression is softer now, almost sad.

He and Echo always got along, were fast friends after their first few missions together. But Hunter is protective of the people he cares about, and that includes the other members of their little family.

Includes you.

“Vod, listen,” Hunter says. He leans forward, resting his arms on the table. His fingers tap a slow, steady rhythm. It reminds Echo of a heartbeat.

He braces himself.

“When we made the choice to stay here, we knew it would be an adjustment, but she…isn’t adjusting. She’s not happy, Echo. She just doesn’t want you to see it.”

Echo stiffens, his spine going rigid. He can feel his muscles lock into place.

No.

You’re fine. You have to be. You have everything you could ever want here, a house, a life, friends. Everything.

It’s everything he has ever wanted for you.

You are fine.

You have to be.

His heart beats faster now, and he can’t calm it down.

Hunter lets out a sigh.

“We didn’t want to tell you this, but…she’s getting worse.“

"Worse how?” Echo asks, his brow furrowing. He feels his stomach start to twist.

“She’s not sleeping,” Hunter says.

“She’s not eating either,” Tech adds, looking up from his datapad. “Though she is making an effort to appear otherwise. Her attempts have become rather sloppy of late.”

“She’s not the same,” Hunter continues. “She doesn’t smile or laugh. She doesn’t talk to us like she used to. We try to reach out, but she pushes us away. Omega’s worried about her. We all are.”

Echo’s mind reels. He could feel it even in the brief moments he’s been there. You’ve been withdrawn, quiet, like you were in the med bay. He chalked it up to his own nerves, to your shock at seeing him, but maybe…

“How long has she been like this?”

“Almost as long as you’ve been gone.”

Echo’s stomach plummets.

“And you think I can do something about it?” Echo asks.

Tech gives him a flat look.

Echo looks away.

The truth is, he isn’t sure if he can. He doesn’t know if there is anything he can do, or if he can make you happy, if you’d even want him to. He isn’t stupid. He knows that the others think you have a connection, that you would miss him, but there is a difference between missing him and needing him, and he isn’t sure which is true.

It’s easier to tell himself you was fine, that you’re moving on without him, and that’s better, isn’t it?

He has no idea.

“Anything is better than leaving her alone again,” Hunter says.

Echo glances up. Hunter’s gaze is steady, firm, and Echo can’t look away. It isn’t often that Hunter puts his foot down about something, but Echo can tell this is one of those rare moments. He shouldn’t be surprised that in his absence, the others have taken a more active role in taking care of you. It’s what he wanted, after all. He specifically asked Hunter to keep an eye on you. But Echo hadn’t expected it to turn out like this.

His stomach churns.

Leaving you alone again?

He hadn’t considered it, but he supposes that’s what he’s doing. If he leaves again and you’re still like this, that’s what he’ll be doing. Leaving you behind.

Abandoning you.

He remembers what it was like, waking up in the medbay after his rescue, the pain and guilt overwhelming him. It felt like someone reached inside his chest and ripped out his heart.

Is he about to do that to you?

Echo doesn’t know if he can live with himself if he does.

“I’ll talk to her,” Echo replies just as Omega reappears with a stack of plates and silverware balanced in her hands. Hunter gives him a final look before jumping up to help her.

It isn’t long before you and Wrecker announce dinner is ready, and they all pitch in to bring food to the center of the table. Echo can’t remember the last time he’s seen so much fresh food: roasted vegetables, tubers, bread, and fish piled high on serving platters.

Gregor and Fireball are good cooks, but their supplies at the compound are limited, with dried spices doing the work to make the food more palatable. This is something else. When he takes his first bite, he nearly moans at the taste.

“This is amazing,” he announces as he meets your eyes from where you’re seated between Wrecker and Omega. You give him a bashful smile before tucking into your own meal.

Dinner is filled with conversation, stories, and laughter. Echo sits back and listens as everyone takes turns sharing your progress on Pabu. He can see why the others enjoy being here. They’re at ease, more relaxed than they’ve been since they left Ord Mantell behind. The atmosphere is light, and he can’t remember a time when he’s felt so normal, so safe.

It’s the most like home he’s ever been.

And then there’s you.

He can’t keep his eyes off of you. He doesn’t stop stealing glances your way, taking in the way your face lights up when you smile, the sound of your laugh. His heart stutters in his chest every time, and the ache he feels for you threatens to overwhelm him.

You catch him watching once, your cheeks going pink as your eyes meet, and he has to duck his head to hide the smile that threatens to split his face.

He doesn’t miss the way Wrecker is hanging onto your every word, his eyes never leaving your face. He feels his shoulders stiffen in response, his hand balling into a fist at his side.

Wrecker is his brother, his vod, and Echo doesn’t want to begrudge him his happiness, especially after what Hunter has told him, but…

He can’t help it.

The jealousy twists in his gut, and he has to force himself to relax. He’s not usually a jealous person. But when it comes to you, he’s always had a harder time keeping his emotions in check, and he knows that his desire for you goes beyond the physical.

You’re beautiful, but it’s more than that. He can see the way you care for each of them, how you listen when they talk, how you make sure to include everyone. You’re kind, and sweet, and smart, and he can’t fault Wrecker for falling for you.

Still, the jealousy that rises in his throat is bitter, and Echo feels a twinge of guilt at his feelings. It isn’t fair to resent Wrecker when he hasn’t done anything wrong. It isn’t fair to resent you either.

You’d asked him to take you with him, and he refused. What did he expect would happen?

That you would just wait for him?

Of course not.

Echo forces himself to look away, his jaw clenching as he shoves his fork around his plate. He tries to ignore the knot of emotions twisting in his chest. He’s being selfish and unreasonable.

The worst part is, he’s going to leave you again, and soon.

As the sun sets, the sky awash with color, the boys disperse to help clean up and wash dishes. It’s only when Echo tries to offer his assistance that he realizes he has no idea where you are. He looks around the kitchen, trying not to panic.

Hunter appears beside him, drying his hand on a towel.

“She went for a walk,” he says, as if reading Echo’s mind.

“Where?”

“The cliffs. Omega says she does it a lot.”

Echo frowns and glances toward the window. “But it’s almost dark. Isn’t it dangerous?”

Hunter shrugs. “She’s fine. She always comes back.”

His nonchalance does little to ease the concern building in Echo’s gut. He looks back toward the kitchen. Wrecker and Tech are arguing over whether a particular pan should be soaked or rinsed. Omega is seated on the counter, drying dishes and giggling at the two of them.

He should stay and help, but…

“I’m going after her.”

He doesn’t give Hunter a chance to respond, marching straight out the front door.

As Echo walks toward the cliffs, he can see a figure sitting atop the rocks, silhouetted against the sunset. A breeze picks up, the sound of wind in the grasses filling the air as your skirt and hair are thrown about by the current. You’re perched on the edge, legs swinging as you stare out at the ocean.

“Cyare?” Echo calls out as he approaches.

“Echo?” You jump, your head whipping around to face him. You’re far enough away that your expression is obscured, but you seem surprised and maybe a little embarrassed.

He picks up his pace. “What are you doing up there? That’s dangerous!”

“It’s fine, I do this all the time.” Your voice is a bit defensive, and Echo has to bite back his irritation.

“You’re gonna fall.”

Echo stops a few feet from the cliff. The drop is steep, and the rocks jut out from the edge at odd angles. The view is stunning, though, and the sun reflects off the water like glittering diamonds.

“I won’t,” you retort, your voice still slightly sharp, and you turn your head back to face the ocean. You pat the space next to you. “You can join me if you want.”

Echo huffs but obliges, carefully navigating his way up to your spot. When he settles beside you, his thigh brushes against yours. The closeness sends a jolt up his spine, and his skin burns where you touch.

He missed this.

You sit in silence for a moment, watching the sun begin to disappear below the horizon. The sky is ablaze with color, bright oranges and reds melting into purple and indigo. The waves crash against the cliffs, their roar echoing off the rocks. It’s a breathtaking view, and he begrudgingly understands why you would come all the way out here to see it.

He sneaks a glance at you from the corner of his eye. You look beautiful, the fading light bringing out the pink undertones of your cheeks. He swallows hard, forcing himself to turn away.

“So, what did I miss while I was gone?” Echo asks, trying to keep his voice casual.

“Not much.” You shrug. “Same old, same old. I’ve been working at the clinic a few days a week, and we’ve been helping out around the settlement.”

“What do you do there?”

“Basic medical stuff, mostly preventative care.” Your hands are tearing at a blade of grass, shredding it into tiny pieces. “I helped deliver a baby last week.”

“You did?” He can’t keep the surprise out of his voice. “How’d that go?”

You smile, your expression softening. “It was amazing. It’s such a special thing, you know?”

Echo’s breath catches. There’s something so open and honest about the way you talk about the experience, the way your whole face lights up, and it makes his heart squeeze in his chest.

“I can’t imagine,” he murmurs.

You tilt your head and give him a look. “What? You’ve never wanted kids?”

“I’ve never really thought about it,” he admits.

It’s true. It’s not like he’s had the chance. Between the war and his injuries, children are the furthest thing from his mind. And even if he did, who would want to be with him? With his prosthetics, and his scars, and his nightmares, he doesn’t think anyone would find him appealing, let alone worth a lifetime commitment.

“What about you?” he asks.

“I’ve always wanted them,” you say, a wistful smile playing on your lips. “Not now, obviously. But someday. A couple, I think. It would be nice to have a big family.”

Echo’s chest constricts.

He can picture it, a house filled with the sound of children’s laughter, the smell of fresh-baked goods. You, surrounded by a group of miniature clones, all smiles and love and warmth.

A future he will never have.

Echo turns his gaze back to the ocean, watching the waves crest and crash against the rocks below. He tries to ignore the pang of sadness in his heart, the tightness in his throat.

You deserve that.

He wants that for you, so badly.

But it’s not his to give.

“Anyway, what about you?” you ask.

Echo startles, turning to look at you. You’re watching him, curiosity in your eyes.

“What about me?”

“How have you been? How’s Rex?”

He’s grateful for the change in topic. Talking about your future, about his lack thereof, is too much.

“He’s doing well,” he says. “He’s getting more involved in the political scene after we helped Senator Chuchi, so I have my hands full.”

“He’s lucky to have you,” you say quietly.

Echo hums.

You both fall into a comfortable silence, watching as the waves crash along the shore. He can hear the distant call of birds, the rustling of the wind in the leaves. It is quiet here. Quiet, and calm, and peaceful.

“Hunter says you’re sad,” Echo blurts out, breaking the silence.

The moment the words leave his mouth, he wants to kick himself. He sees your shoulders tense, your grip tightening around your ankles, and he regrets it.

“I’m not,” you reply, but your voice is tight, and you don’t look at him.

“He says you haven’t been sleeping. That you’re not eating.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not,” Echo says, his tone firm.

“How would you know?”

“Because I know you,” he says, his voice rising. “Because I can see it.”

“You haven’t even been here!”

“So?”

“So you can’t just show up and tell me how I feel,” you snap.

“I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” you reply, your tone cold.

Echo huffs and looks away. “Look, I just want to make sure you’re okay. That’s all.”

“I’m fine.”

“If you’re fine, then why won’t you look at me?”

You sigh, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“It’s complicated,” you reply, resting your chin on your arms.

Echo reaches over, brushing his fingertips against your forearm. Your skin is warm and soft, and he finds himself craving more contact.

“Can you talk to me?”

You finally turn your head to face him. His stomach swoops as your eyes meet his. There’s pain there, a deep hurt that makes his chest ache. He hates seeing you like this, and he wishes there was something he could do to take it away.

“I’ve been trying, Echo. I really have,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “But it’s hard…everyone seems like they’re moving on except for me.”

“That’s not true.” Echo frowns, his hand finding yours. Your fingers curl around his, and you squeeze.

“No, it is. We’ve been here for months, and they’re starting to make a life here. They’re building a home. It’s a good thing, and I’m happy for them.” You shrug, turning away from him.

Echo doesn’t say anything, and when you don’t continue, he turns to you.

“And what about you?” He prods.

“What about me?”

“Don’t you want to do the same?”

You don’t answer right away, but he can see the way your face falls, the way your lips press together in a thin line.

“Maybe. I don’t know. Do I have a choice?”

“Of course, you do,” he replies, confused.

“Do I?” You ask, your voice wavering. “I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore. I feel like I’m just going through the motions, but it doesn’t mean anything.”

Echo hesitates, unsure how to respond. He wants to ask you to elaborate, but he knows it won’t help. You’re already looking back out at the sea, your shoulders hunched. The sun has nearly disappeared below the horizon now, casting everything in an orange glow.

He wants to press you, to make you tell him what you’re thinking, but he holds back, not wanting to upset you further. He knew this wouldn’t be easy for you at first, not when you’ve spent your entire life running from place to place. He had hoped, though, that being here would be different.

That you could find some peace.

But maybe that was naive.

“You know…” He begins slowly. “After Skako, I felt like I came home to a different world. So much had changed. I didn’t think that I would ever feel safe, or happy again.”

He hears you shift, but doesn’t turn. He is too afraid to meet your gaze, knowing it would break him. Instead, he focuses on the ocean, the way the light plays off the water.

“For a long time, I was angry, and I felt lost. I didn’t know who I was anymore, or if there was any purpose for me. And I’m still working through it, you know? But I found some things that made it a little easier, and that made me feel like myself again.”

“Like what?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks over at you, at the way your eyes reflect the last rays of light, the way your lips part slightly, and his breath catches in his throat.

He could tell you.

He could tell you everything.

How you make him feel safe, how you make him feel alive, how you make him feel like he belongs. He could tell you that the mere thought of you keeps him going, that he’s been replaying the moments you shared over and over in his mind, and how every single one fills him with joy. He could tell you that you’ve shown him what happiness is, that he’d been so lonely and broken before, and now…

He could tell you how he feels, how desperately he’s missed you, how much he needs you, how much he loves you.

But he can’t. So he settles for a different truth.

“The boys. They gave me purpose, and a reason to keep going. They were always there for me, even when I didn’t want them to be. They made me feel welcome, and they reminded me that I was a part of something bigger than myself.”

He takes a deep breath.

“And then I met you. And you reminded me what it was like to be human. To be happy, and to laugh, and to have fun. You’ve given me a reason to hope, and to keep fighting, and that’s more than I could ever ask for. I just…I hope you find something that makes you feel that way, too.”

You stare at him, a range of emotions flickering across your face. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, can’t tell if he’s said the wrong thing.

“You’re sweet, Echo,” you say finally, smiling softly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He smiles back, but the warmth he’d felt moments before fades, and a cold knot of anxiety forms in his stomach.

It wasn’t enough.

He doesn’t know how to be, or what to say. He can’t give you what you need, can’t make you feel the way you deserve to be made to feel. He can’t protect you, or care for you, or build a life with you.

All he can do is leave, and keep leaving.

He feels tears prick his eyes, and he looks away, not wanting you to see. He clears his throat, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. It’s better this way, he reminds himself, trying to shake the feeling. You deserve more.

He shifts, the movement causing his knee to bump into yours.

“Sorry,” he mutters, pulling his leg away.

“Don’t worry about it.” You laugh, and he can feel the warmth radiating off of you. “I don’t mind.”

The knot in his stomach grows tighter, and he fights the urge to lean into you.

“I miss you, you know. I’m glad you’re back, even if it’s just for a visit.”

“Me too.” His stomach churns, and he wonders if you would have been happier if he hadn’t come at all.

The truth is, he thinks about you every day, misses your smile and the way you always make him feel calm. He aches for you, and his heart aches for you, and he doesn’t know what to do.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “I wish I could’ve been here like you were for me.”

You give him a small smile, and his heart sinks. “It’s okay. You have a new mission. You’re helping your brothers. That’s important, Echo.”

“So are you.”

You smile sadly.

“No, it’s not the same.” You lean forward and rest your cheek against your knee. The fading sunlight plays off the lines of your face, highlighting your cheekbones, the slope of your nose, the curve of your lips. “It’s not your fault, Echo. You’re doing your duty. I’m just being selfish. It’s my own problem.”

“You’re not selfish,” Echo argues, frowning.

“Yes, I am,” you insist and your eyes flash, an edge of anger creeping into your tone.

You sit up straight, looking at him intently. Your brow is furrowed, and you have a stubborn set to your jaw. He’s seen this look before, and it both infuriates him and fills him with an aching fondness.

“I am, and I hate it, and I hate this stupid planet, and I hate how much I want you here.” Your voice breaks, and he sees the tears in your eyes.

Echo opens his mouth, then closes it. His heart races, and his palms are suddenly sweaty.

“I–”

“Do you have any idea what it’s like for me? Every day, wondering if you’re okay. Hoping that I’ll hear something. Anything.” You let out a sharp, pained sound, a mix between a laugh and a sob. “I know it’s not right, but I can’t help but wish you would’ve just stayed here with me.”

Echo’s mind goes blank, the blood rushing in his ears. He can’t breathe, can’t think. The only thing he can focus on is the pain in your eyes, the pain he put there.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out. “I didn’t mean to–”

“I know,” you interrupt, your voice strained. “I know, and I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Don’t apologize.” He reaches for you, hesitating before resting his hand on your back. His fingers trace the lines of your spine, and his throat tightens. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you reply, sniffling. You pull away from him, rubbing your eyes. You push yourself up onto your feet with enough force that he worries you might tumble over the side of the cliff. His hand reaches for you on instinct, but he lets it fall, curling into a fist on his thigh.

“Wait–”

“We should head back. It’s getting dark.” Your voice is muffled, and you won’t look at him.

Echo frowns, watching as you take a step away from him. He wants to make you stay, but he can’t bring himself to press you. He’s already hurt you enough.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me staying with you?” he asks, standing slowly. He can see the way you tense, and he knows the answer.

“Of course.” You force a smile, and he knows it’s not genuine.

“I can stay somewhere else, if that’s easier for you,” he offers.

“I’m not going to sacrifice what little time we have together just because I want to wallow in self-pity. It’s not like you can change anything, anyway.” You turn away, your shoulders drooping.

Echo stares at you, his heart sinking.

You’re right.

He can’t.

“Just, please stop apologizing. You’ve done nothing wrong, Echo.”

“If you’re sure.” Echo isn’t convinced, but he knows better than to push you, especially after you’ve been so upset.

He waits for you to move, his gaze flicking from your face to the ground and back again.

“If you need me to go–”

“Don’t.” You shake your head. “Please. I’ll be fine. Let’s just go home.”

Home.

He tries to ignore the ache in his chest.

He offers you a hand, helping you down from the rocks. Your skin is warm, your hand small and soft, and he wishes he didn’t have to let go. But he does, and you pull away, the warmth of your touch lingering.

You give him a small smile as he guides you back toward your house, and Echo tries to ignore the way his heart aches.

He’s hurt you. He’s hurt you and himself, and he has no idea how to fix it.

Echo has a hard time falling asleep.

You’d given him some blankets and a pillow, and he’d awkwardly settled in to the too-soft mattress in your small spare bedroom. You’d insisted he sleep there, despite his protests, and he hadn’t wanted to upset you further. Then you’d disappeared into your room and shut the door behind you, and he was left alone.

His body ached from a long day of travel, but his mind was still racing from his talk with you. Your words kept repeating in his mind, the pain in your voice, the desperation in your eyes. He couldn’t stop replaying them, couldn’t stop wishing he’d been able to make you feel better.

When he’s finally able to close his eyes, it isn’t long before he’s jolted awake. He shoots upright, his heart pounding, his body coated in a cold sweat.

Echo can’t remember what the nightmare was about, but the lingering fear that grips his chest makes it hard to breathe. He rubs his palms roughly against his face, taking a deep breath in through his nose.

He can’t stay in the bed. He has to move, to get up and pace and shake off the terror.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, Echo pushes himself up, shuffling into the small kitchen to get a glass of water. He can already feel a headache coming on.

“Echo?”

His hand stops midair, the glass halfway to his lips as you step into the room. Your hair is tousled, and the thin straps of your camisole hang precariously off your shoulders. The shorts you are wearing don’t leave much to the imagination, and Echo can’t help the way his eyes drag over the length of your legs.

“Sorry,” he says quietly. He drains the glass of water in one gulp and sets it back down on the counter, hoping that you can’t tell how flustered he is. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“No, I wasn’t asleep,” you say, shaking your head. Your feet pad across the floor and you come to stand beside him. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just had a nightmare.”

“Wanna talk about it?” You reach up, placing your palm on his chest.

Echo hesitates. “Not really.”

Your hand trails down his chest and around to his back, the touch warm and soothing.

“You should try to go back to sleep. It’s late,” he says, and though his body hums under your touch, the ache in his heart remains.

“You first,” you retort, a small smile playing on your lips.

Echo snorts, leaning against the counter. You’re close, so close, and he aches to pull you against him, to feel your warmth and hold you and never let go.

"You're impossible."

"And you're stubborn," you fire back, tilting your head. "I'm sorry you're still having them. The nightmares."

"It's not your fault. I should be the one apologizing, really."

You sigh, shaking your head. "Please stop apologizing, Echo."

"Then, I'm sorry."

You let out a huff, one that could almost be a laugh, and he takes it as a victory. "You're not funny."

"I'm not trying to be," he says with a shrug, but it's obvious he's fighting a grin.

"Then why are you laughing?"

Echo opens his mouth, but doesn't have an answer. Instead, he finds himself smiling wider, warmth spreading through him. He's missed this, the easy banter, the way he can make you laugh and feel at ease.

"You're ridiculous," you murmur, but you're smiling.

He watches you, and his heart aches. You're beautiful, the light from the window illuminating your face. The room grows quiet, and Echo struggles to keep his hands to himself. He wants to reach out, to touch you, but he can't bring himself to move, terrified he'll ruin the moment. He's suddenly very aware that he is standing in your kitchen, in nothing but his undershirt and underwear, while you're dressed in next to nothing.

He shifts, the air thick with tension, and he can feel the heat radiating off of you, your hand still lingering on his arm.

“So, um…”

“Uh, do you want me to make you some tea or something?” you ask at the same time, glancing over at the kettle on the stove.

Echo blinks, his brain short-circuiting as it struggles to catch up with the abrupt change in conversation. It isn’t an unusual question, you’ve done the same for him and his brothers many times before on the Marauder, but it feels strangely intimate in the darkened kitchen.

“Sure,” he says, a little too loudly. He clears his throat. “If it’s not too much trouble.”

“Not at all,” you reply, looking relieved to have something to occupy yourself with. You pull away from him, and Echo watches as you bustle around the kitchen, opening cabinets and filling the kettle.

“I can do that,” he offers, coming up behind you to place a hand on your shoulder. He doesn’t miss the way you stiffen under his touch, and he can’t help the pang of hurt that shoots through his chest before he quickly withdraws his hand.

“No, it’s fine,” you protest, grabbing a couple of mugs from the cabinet above the sink. You move past him, and he catches a hint of your scent, warm and floral. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll be right over.”

Echo relents, sitting down at the table and watching you. There’s a quiet elegance in the way you moved, and it reminds him of the first time you’d cooked dinner for them on Saleucami. The boys had been skeptical at first, but after one bite, they’d devoured the entire pot. They’d joked that you were a better cook than you were a medic, and you’d playfully swatted at them, threatening to poison their food if they didn’t behave, and Echo had watched and laughed along.

But it hadn’t been funny. You were so good to them, and they had taken advantage of it, had treated you like a burden, and you hadn’t said a word. He had felt guilty then, and he felt even guiltier now.

After that, he’d made a point of helping you more, of offering to do little things for you, even when you’d insisted that he didn’t have to. But he had wanted to, wanted to show his appreciation for all you did.

He was so grateful for you. For everything you’d done for them. He was so grateful, and so hopelessly in love with you, and so completely terrified of losing you.

And now here you are, making him tea, and he still loves you, and he still wants to hold you, and kiss you, and tell you how much he cares for you, and he’s terrified of losing you again.

So much has changed, yet somehow, it feels like no time had passed at all.

“Do you miss it?” he asks suddenly.

You look up from the tea bags you’re carefully placing in the mugs, the corners of your lips turning down slightly. “Miss what?”

“Being out in the field, fighting, the action, all of it.” Echo isn’t sure why he asked, and he regrets it the second the words are out of his mouth.

You stare at him for a long moment, the silence stretching between you. You let out a soft sigh, closing your eyes.

“Sometimes,” you say quietly. You set a cup of tea in front of him, your hand lingering on the back of his chair as you move.

He watches you carefully as you take the seat across from him, your hands wrapping protectively around your mug. You stare down at your cup, your expression guarded.

“Do you ever think about going back?” Echo asks, trying to keep his voice casual.

“Of course I do.” You look up abruptly, staring at him with a fierce intensity that takes him by surprise. There’s an edge of desperation in your voice, and it sends a stab of pain through his chest. “You didn’t want me to go back, remember?”

He flinches, swallowing hard.

“No, I mean —” Echo hesitates, not sure what to say. You’re right, he’d tried to keep you out of danger. He’d told you that he didn’t want you to follow them, but it had been a selfish request, and he’d known it. “I don’t know.”

“I see.” You’re quiet, your fingers playing idly with the handle of your mug. 

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know how to explain the way his stomach lurches when he watches you fight. The way his throat tightens, knowing that one wrong move could take your life. How he’s paralyzed at the thought of losing you again. 

It’s too much. He doesn’t want to talk about it, doesn’t want to think about it.

But he has to, or he’ll never get past it.

“It’s just —” Echo pauses, clearing his throat.

“It’s alright, Echo. I know you had to go.” You interrupt, your voice soft and understanding. “I know I didn’t fit into your plan, and I don’t blame you.”

Echo stares at you, a cold feeling settling over him. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

“No, no, I understand.” You give him a halfhearted smile, but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“You don’t. I–”

“I know I can’t help like you can. I know I’m not like you, or the rest of the squad.” Your voice trembles, and your fingers tighten around the mug.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” Echo pleads, desperate to make you understand. He’s struggling to find the right words, his mind racing.

“So, what are you trying to say?” Your voice rises, and there’s a hint of anger in your tone.

“That I was scared.” He blurts out. “I was afraid I would lose you, and I wasn’t ready to admit it.”

You fall silent, the only sound is the ticking of the clock on the wall and the faint hum of the refrigerator. Echo holds his breath, waiting for you to say something, anything.

“Oh,” you finally murmur, your gaze dropping to the table.

“You’re not a soldier. I know you want to help, but —” Echo’s voice cracks. “I thought maybe if you weren’t around me, you’d be safer. You’d have a happy life here, away from danger. Away from me.”

You raise your head, meeting his gaze. There’s a flicker of something in your eyes, something like understanding.

“So you didn’t want me to go with you because you were afraid something would happen to me?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I couldn’t lose you,” he replies softly. “And I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel like you were a burden.”

You let out a quiet, sad laugh, shaking your head.

“I’m not good with this, uh, feelings, thing,” Echo continues, his voice strained.

“It’s alright. You don’t have to explain yourself.” You take a sip of your tea, your fingers curling around the mug. “You don’t owe me anything, Echo.”

“Yes, I do. You’ve been so good to us. To me. And I haven’t been.”

“Echo,” you start, but he cuts you off.

“No. Let me say this. Please.”

You nod slowly, and Echo takes a deep breath.

“I was a coward,” he says, his voice trembling. “And I was afraid that if you stayed with me, I would lose you. When you got hurt, I damn near lost my mind. I wasn’t sure I would ever get you back. And when I did, it just… it made me realize that I’m not strong enough to live without you.”

“Echo,” you whisper, reaching across the table for his hand. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything else.”

“Yes, I do.” Echo takes a deep breath. “I didn’t want to leave you, but I couldn’t take you with us. It’s not safe, and I know you can handle yourself, but I can’t… I can’t lose you. Not like that.”

You squeeze his hand, your thumb gently rubbing over his knuckles.

“I understand.”

“You don’t.” Echo shakes his head, pulling his hand away from yours. He pushes back from the table, the chair scraping across the floor. “You don’t. Because it wasn’t just that. It was also…”

You sit back in your chair, watching him, waiting for him to finish.

“I couldn’t take the way you made me feel. I was a mess, and I didn’t know what to do with it. With you. I didn’t know how to deal with it, so I shut it out. I pushed it away, and I pushed you away. I’m sorry.”

“You had every reason to feel the way you did. What happened to you was terrible.”

“That’s not the point.” Echo’s voice grows louder, and he forces himself to take a deep breath.

“So, what is the point, then?” You ask, your tone careful and measured.

“I…” He hesitates, struggling to find the words. He isn’t sure how much longer he can hold himself back.

“What?” You ask.

“I don’t know. I’m trying, but it’s hard. I can’t —”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep pretending.”

“Pretending what?”

“That I’m not in love with you,” he says, his voice raw and full of emotion, the confession bursting from him like a flood. He doesn’t even know where the words come from. They’re just there, bubbling up inside of him, begging to be heard. “That I haven’t been in love with you this whole time.”

You blink, a flush creeping up your neck and face. You stare at him, stunned into silence, and he waits, his heart pounding in his ears.

“I don’t know what to say.” You finally murmur, shaking your head.

“Please don’t say anything.” He begs, his voice breaking. “Don’t say anything.”

Echo’s heart is hammering in his chest. The seconds seem to stretch on forever, and he wants nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

“Okay.” You whisper.

The word hangs between you, heavy and unspoken, and Echo wonders if this is how it will always be. If the two of you will always be orbiting around each other, never quite able to meet in the middle.

“Thank you,” he manages, and the words taste bitter in his mouth.

You push yourself away from the table, the legs of the chair scraping against the tile. The sudden noise is deafening, and Echo can’t bring himself to look at you, not trusting his resolve not to crumble if he sees the look on your face.

He hears you move toward him, but he still can’t look at you.

“I’m sorry.” He repeats, his voice breaking.

“For what?”

“I know I have no right to feel this way. But I can’t help it. I can’t help the way I feel about you. And I can’t pretend anymore. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’ll go, and you won’t have to deal with —”

He cuts himself off as you place your hands on either side of his face, your fingers gently stroking his cheeks. His breath catches in his throat as he looks up, finding you standing directly in front of him, so close that your legs are nearly touching.

“Stop apologizing,” you say, your voice soft and gentle. Your thumbs trace the sharp line of his jaw, your eyes searching his. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Okay,” he breathes, his voice hoarse and his hand shaking.

“Do you really love me?”

Echo nods, unable to form words. His heart is hammering in his chest, and his throat feels thick.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” You ask.

“Because,” Echo whispers, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I didn’t think I deserved you.”

“You’re an idiot,” you say, laughing softly. “You have no idea, do you?”

“Idea about what?” He asks, confused.

“How much I love you,” you say.

“You, uh —” His brain struggles to process your words.

“Love you. So much.”

“Really?” He breathes, his mouth suddenly dry.

“Yeah, really,” you say, smiling.

“I’ve been such an idiot,” he mutters, and you laugh.

“You have,” you agree, leaning forward.

He closes his eyes as you press your lips to his, soft and tentative. His hand and scomp come up to rest on your hips, pulling you closer, and your hands slide down to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt.

His skin tingles where your fingertips touch, and a shiver runs down his spine. His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat, and he can barely breathe.

“You really want this? You really want me?” He asks, his voice trembling.

“Of course I do,” you reply, kissing him again, this time more deeply, and Echo’s entire world narrows to the feeling of your lips on his. It’s a desperate, hungry kiss, full of all the emotion that has been building up between the two of you.

Echo groans, his arms tightening around you, pulling you into his lap. His hand tangles in your hair, tugging you closer, and you melt into his touch, your mouth hot against his.

You’re intoxicating, your lips soft and sweet and demanding, and Echo can’t stop himself. He wants to kiss you forever, to taste you and touch you and drown in the scent of your skin.

He’s lightheaded and breathless, and he can feel his heart racing. Your hands roam his body, and Echo feels himself slipping, losing himself in you, the feeling overwhelming.

You break away, gasping for air. His lips chase after yours, and you giggle, pulling back.

“Wait,” you breathe, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, the curve of his cheekbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.” He mumbles, his hand running along the sides of your thigh, your waist, your hip.

“You promised to tell me what that word meant before you left,” you whisper. “Cyare.”

"Oh.” Echo’s heart stops, the memory hitting him like a blow.

“You never did.” You smile, your nose bumping against his, and he laughs softly.

“You still remember that?”

“Of course I do.” You kiss him again, your tongue brushing over his lips, and he shivers.

“It means, uh…” Echo clears his throat. “It means someone precious, beloved.”

You raise your eyebrows, looking pleased with yourself. “You’ve been calling me that for months. Why didn’t you just tell me what it meant?“

Echo laughs, a short, nervous sound. "Because I’m an idiot, apparently.”

“So you keep saying,” you tease, your fingers dancing along the edge of his jaw, trailing down the line of his neck. “You did have me worried for a bit. I didn’t think you were ever going to tell me. Hunter kept giving me these weird looks every time you said it.”

Echo groans, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Kriff, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you murmur, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “I think it’s cute.”

“I was such an idiot.” He whispers, his lips moving against your skin.

“I thought it was kind of endearing.”

“Endearing,” he snorts, pulling back to look at you. “Really.”

“Yes. And I’ve missed hearing you say it,” you admit, your cheeks turning pink. “Even if I didn’t understand, I loved hearing you say it.”

Echo leans his forehead against yours, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. “I’m going to make up for lost time. You’ll be sick of it soon enough.”

You laugh, and Echo presses his lips to yours, swallowing the sound. His kisses are slow and deliberate, and his hand and scomp press into your hips, holding you close. You sigh against his lips, your fingers twisting into the front of his shirt.

He can’t stop kissing you, can’t stop touching you. His body is humming with energy, and his skin feels too tight, and he’s overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions.

“Cyare,” he murmurs, his mouth trailing along the line of your jaw, his teeth grazing the skin.

“Mm,” you sigh happily, tilting your head to give him better access.

His lips trail along your jaw, and he nips at your earlobe.

“Cyare,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. You shiver, a low moan escaping from the back of your throat, and Echo smiles.

“I like that,” you murmur, turning your head and capturing his lips in another kiss.

“Yeah?” He grins, his teeth catching on your bottom lip. “I’ve got plenty more.”

He slides his hand under your shirt, his palm splayed out on your stomach. You suck in a breath, your muscles twitching under his touch. You lips part against his, your tongue sliding into his mouth, and Echo moans, his fingers flexing against your skin.

His fingers dance up your side, tracing the curve of your ribs, and your back arches into him, your hips rocking against his. When his tongue dips between your lips and you suck on it, his brain short-circuits, and he thrusts his hips up into yours, his erection straining against his briefs.

“Cyare,” Echo whispers, his voice hoarse. He forces himself to remain still, his grip tightening on your hips, trying to control himself.

You don’t seem to notice, content with dipping your head to brush your lips along the line of his jaw, his neck, his shoulder. “Echo,” you say, and his name sounds like a prayer on your lips.

“Cyare.”

You hum, your teeth grazing his earlobe, and his hips jerk up involuntarily.

“Cyare,” he rasps, his hand trembling, his head falling back as your lips move to his collarbone. His fingers tighten, squishing the soft flesh of your hip, and you let out a low moan, your thighs clenching around him.

He has a brief moment of clarity, wondering if this is too fast, if he’s going to scare you off. But then you are grinding down against him, and he can feel the heat of you through your shorts, and he forgets how to breathe.

“Please, Echo.” You gasp, rocking against him, and his hips roll into yours. Your lips are hot against his neck, your hands roam over his shoulders, his chest.

“Are you sure?” He asks, his voice shaking. “I don’t want to —”

“Yes,” you whisper. You take his face in your hands, tilting his chin up to meet your eyes. You kiss the corner of his mouth, and then his lips, his tongue. “Yes, I’m sure. Please, Echo.”

“I love you,” he tells you, his voice thick.

“I love you too,” you breathe, and Echo loses himself in you.

“Cyare.” He says again, his voice a low growl.

He pulls you into him, and you let out a surprised yelp. He surges forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His hand slips beneath your shirt, sliding up your back, and you arch into him, your skin burning beneath his touch.

His lips trail down your neck, his tongue darting out to taste your skin, and you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Tell me to stop,” he rasps, his breath hot against your skin. Your hips buck against him, and he groans, his hand sliding lower.

“No.”

His hand continues its path, cupping your ass, pulling you flush against him, and you let out a whine, rolling your hips into his. His fingers inch under the waistband of your shorts, tracing the edge of your underwear.

Echo groans, his teeth scraping your collarbone, and your hips jerk against him, your breath catching. His entire body is aching for you, desperate to feel your skin against his.

“Tell me to stop,” he says again, his voice strained.

“Never,” you reply, your breath hitching as he nips at your shoulder.

“Kriff, you’re killing me, cyare.”

You whimper, your nails scratching his scalp.

“Tell me you want me,” Echo whispers, his hand slipping underneath your underwear to grab a handful of your ass. He grips you, tugging you closer, and you hiss as his erection presses directly against your clit.

“I want you,” you breathe, your legs wrapping around his waist. He stands, lifting you up easily, and your arms wrap around his neck, your lips meeting his in a heated kiss.

He carries you down the hallway to your bedroom, pausing in the doorway. He breaks the kiss, his eyes searching yours. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you nod, your lips brushing his. “Are you?”

He closes his eyes, sucking in a breath. “I just should warn you I’m not…Tech wasn’t kidding when he said I’m more machine than man. I have scars and wires, and I —"

“Hey,” you cut him off, your hands coming up to frame his face. You press a soft kiss to his lips. “If you want to stop, tell me, and we’ll stop. I love you, Echo. All of you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Echo lets out a shuddering breath, nodding. “Alright.”

You smile, your thumb tracing the line of his jaw. “Good. Now take me to bed.”

He smirks, his grip on you tightening. He leans down, his lips ghosting over yours.

“Whatever you want, cyare.”

You gasp, your head falling back as his lips latch onto your throat, and Echo kicks the door closed behind him. 

Your nails digging into his back, you tighten your legs around his waist, and you grind your hips against his, a low moan escaping you. It throws him off balance, and he bumps against the bedpost before turning and sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

He settles you on his lap, your knees bracketing his hips, and his hand tangles in your hair, pulling your lips to his. He kisses you, hard and desperate, and your fingers clutch at the fabric of his shirt, your teeth sinking into his lower lip.

“You should probably take this off,” you murmur as you pull away, pushing the material up. He reluctantly leans back to pull it over his head, then reaches out to help you with yours.

The sight of your breasts, bare and heaving in front of him makes his mouth go dry. You are perfect, your skin flushed and glowing, and his hand slides up your side, his thumb brushing the underside of your breast.

“Kriff, you’re gorgeous.” He your breast in his hand, his thumb brushing across the stiff peak of your nipple, and you moan, arching into his touch.

He dips his head, closing his mouth around the other, and you cry out, your hands clutching his shoulders.

Echo swirls his tongue around your nipple, his other hand kneading your breast. He feels you shiver, your hips rocking against him, and he groans, his cock straining against the confines of his briefs, desperate to be buried inside you.

You are so soft and warm, and you taste so good, and he can’t stop touching you, can’t get enough. His tongue dances over the sensitive skin, his teeth grazing, and you arch into him, letting out a strangled moan. Hhis scomp arm wraps around your waist, holding you in place, and he sucks hard, his tongue flicking across your nipple.

“Echo,” you pant, your hips grinding down against him, seeking friction. He lets out a low growl, his lips trailing over your breast to the other, his teeth sinking into the flesh.

“So perfect,” he murmurs, his tongue swirling around the peak, his lips closing over it. “I could spend all night doing this, cyare.”

Your breath hitches, and you writhe against him, your nails scratching his scalp. He releases your breast with a wet pop, his lips trailing along your ribs, his tongue darting out to taste the salt of your skin. You shudder, your breath coming in short pants, and he can’t help but grin, enjoying the way you are coming undone for him.

His fingers find the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down your hips. You lift yourself off him long enough for him to slide them down your legs, your underwear going with them, sticking slightly to the wetness pooling between your thighs.

You sit naked on his lap, your thighs parted, and he nearly loses it.

“Fuck,” Echo breathes, his hand moving to your waist, squeezing gently. You are soaked, your folds glistening, and he has to bite his lip to keep from coming right then and there.

“What?” You ask, a hint of nervousness creeping into your voice.

“Just trying not to embarrass myself,” he mutters, and your eyebrows shoot up.

“You mean…?” Your eyes flicker down to the tented fabric of his briefs, the growing wet spot.

“Yeah,” he groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his cheeks burning.

“That’s kinda hot,” you tease, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear.

"Don’t get smug,” he growls. His hand slides up your inner thigh, and you gasp as his fingers slip between your folds, his thumb circling your clit.

“Oh!” You moan, your hips jerking forward, and Echo smiles.

“There we go,” he whispers, his fingers stroking you, rubbing small circles around your clit.

Your head falls back, your hips rocking against him, and he bites down on your shoulder, his cock throbbing.

“Echo, please,” you beg, your breath hot against his ear.

He lets out a shuddering breath, his fingers dipping lower, teasing at your entrance. “Is this what you want, cyare?”

You whine, chasing after his hand as it pulls away, and he laughs softly, nipping at the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

“Echo,” you whimper, and his breath catches in his throat.

“Tell me,” he commands, his fingers dipping just barely inside you, making you moan.

“Yes! Please, Echo, please,” you plead, your voice high and desperate.

“Come here." 

Echo maneuvers you both so he has room to lay back on the bed, pulling your hand to get you to follow him. You do so eagerly, straddling his hips, your thighs bracketing his.

You grind your hips against his, and he groans, his fingers digging into your hip. His cock is trapped between your bodies, your slick heat teasing him through his briefs, and he has to fight the urge to roll you onto your back and thrust into you.

Instead, he moves his hand and scomp down to cup your ass, lifting you up slightly. He moves his mouth to your nipple, his teeth grazing the stiff peak.

You arch into him, your nails raking down his chest, and he groans, his tongue swirling around you nipple. He moves his lips to your other breast, his teeth scraping against you, and you cry out, your hips jerking.

"Please,” you whimper, your thighs trembling.

Echo releases your breast, his mouth moving to your neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive skin, and he nudges you higher until you are straddling his chest.

He lifts his head, his lips moving to your stomach. He plants a trail of kisses down your belly, his tongue darting out to tease the crease of your hip. You gasp, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

Echo pauses, glancing up at you. Your eyes are dark, your pupils blown wide, and he smirks, his fingers digging into your thigh. He can smell your arousal, the sweet scent of you making his cock twitch, and his heart pounds in his chest.

“Sit on my face,” he growls, and your eyes widen.

“W-what?” You stammer.

“Sit on my face.” He repeats, his voice firm.

“But—”

“I want to taste you, cyare,” he murmurs, his hand sliding down your thigh.

You hesitate, chewing on your lower lip. Then you slowly shift your weight, moving until you are hovering over his face, your legs trembling. Your hands rest on the headboard in front of you, hovering uncertainly above his head.

“Good girl,” he praises, and your thighs clench. He grins, his hand cupping your ass, and he tilts his head up, pressing a soft kiss to your mound.

He takes a deep breath, savoring the moment. You are so wet, your folds glistening, and he wants nothing more than to bury his face between your thighs and lose himself in you.

Slowly, he guides you down, his hand moving to the back of your thigh, coaxing you to settle against him.

The first tentative swipe of his tongue is almost enough to make him lose it, the taste of you flooding his senses. He can’t see your expression, but the loud, surprised moan when his mouth makes contact is more than enough. You gasp, your hands clutching the headboard, and he does it again, dragging his tongue through your folds.

He moans, his eyes falling closed. You are perfect, You are already so wet, your essence coating his tongue and dripping down his chin. His hand moves from your thigh to grab a handful of your ass, pulling you closer.

His lips find your clit, and you let out a high pitched cry, your hips bucking.

“Echo,” you whimper as he sucks, his tongue flicking across the sensitive bud, and his cock twitches at the sound of his name on your lips.

Echo moans, his tongue circling your clit, and you rock against him, your breath hitching.

“Echo,” you repeat, your knuckles whitening as you clench them around the headboard. “Fuck.”

You’re shaking, your thighs clenching around his head, and he groans, his tongue circling your clit before moving down to slip inside of your entrance.

You let out a ragged gasp, your hips bucking against him. He pulls you down, his tongue fucking you deeper, and you moan, your head falling back. Your walls are slick, warm and tight, and he can’t get enough.

Echo feels your fingers gripping his head tightly as you rock your hips against his mouth. He keeps a steady pace, licking and sucking, and you gasp, your thighs trembling.

Echo glances up, catching a glimpse of your face, and his cock twitches. Your cheeks are flushed, your lips parted, your eyes squeezed shut. He can feel you getting closer, your walls clenching around him. He pulls away, his tongue darting out to swipe a broad stroke up your slit, and you groan, your hips jerking forward. His tongue moves to your clit, lapping at you, and a loud moan escapes you.

“Don’t stop,” you gasp, your hips rolling, seeking more friction. “Please, Echo.”

He chuckles, his hand moving to squeeze your ass. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”

He slides a finger inside you, then two, his mouth closing over your clit, his tongue circling, teasing.

“So close,” you whine, your walls tightening around him. “Please, I’m —”

He curls his fingers, sucking hard, and you let out a muffled scream, your hips jerking against his mouth.

Your thighs tighten around his head, your hands gripping the headboard so tightly, and he groans as you come apart, your release coating his tongue and fingers.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow, his tongue and fingers continuing their assault, and your orgasm stretches, drawing out, the waves crashing through you, leaving you breathless.

Finally, you collapse against the headboard, your thighs shaking, your breathing heavy. Echo slowly slips his fingers out of you, and you whimper, your eyes fluttering open.

“Echo,” you murmur, your head falling forward. He gives you a few more lazy strokes with his tongue before letting you move away. You’re panting, your face flushed and covered with a sheen of sweat, and he can’t help but grin at the sight.

He moves you down so that you’re straddling his chest and he can see you properly. You look good like this, your hair mussed, your eyes glassy, your body still trembling with aftershocks.

He wipes his chin with the back of his hand and grins. “Good girl.”

“Kriff,” you moan, bending over to bury your face in his neck. You are still trembling, and he feels a surge of pride, knowing he did that.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice teasing.

You let out a low groan. “Shut up.”

Echo chuckles as he feels your lips moving against his skin - planting a series of light kisses along his jaw and darting out to taste the skin just beneath his ear.

His breath hitches, and you take advantage of his reaction, your lips trailing down his throat, biting at the base.

“Kriff, cyare,” Echo moans, his cock throbbing.

You lift yourself up to shuffle backwards, giving him another glimpse at your beautiful, glistening and soaked pussy. His cock twitches, and he can’t stop himself from reaching out to stroke your clit. You shudder and spread your legs slightly.

“Fuck,” Echo moans as his eyes travel down your body, taking in every inch of bare, smooth skin. Your breasts are heaving, your nipples tight, and he can see the goosebumps forming on your skin.

You smirk, arching your back slightly.

“See something you like?” You tease.

“Yes,” Echo groans, his fingers slipping between your folds. “Everything.”

Mindful of overstimulating you, he keeps his touch light, his fingertips just brushing the edges of your entrance, not daring to dip any deeper. You let out a soft whimper, arching your back.

“You’re so wet,” he murmurs, his fingers sliding up and down. “So fucking perfect.”

You whimper, your hips bucking as his fingers find your clit, tracing small circles.

“Again?” You ask, a hint of desperation creeping into your voice.

“Again,” Echo agrees, his fingers moving faster, his thumb rubbing the swollen bud. “I could spend all day doing this, cyare.”

Your head falls forward, your mouth open, and you gasp as he rubs harder, his fingers stroking your clit, his thumb tracing small circles.

“Please, Echo,” you beg, your hips rocking, seeking more friction.

“You’re close,” he whispers, his finger dipping inside you, his thumb continuing its ministrations. “You like that, huh?”

You whimper and shift your hips. “Yes.”

“Yeah, I bet you do.” He slides another finger into you, curling them, and you moan as your walls tighten around him. He can feel the warmth of you, the slickness coating his fingers, and he groans.

“So good,” he murmurs as his fingers pump in and out of you, your hips rocking against him. “So wet for me, aren’t you?”

You gasp, your hips bucking. “Echo.”

He can feel you clenching around him, and he can’t resist adding a third finger. You let out a loud moan, your back arching, and he grins. “That’s it, cyare. You gonna cum for me again?”

You nod, your eyes squeezed shut, and he can feel your walls fluttering around him.

“I wanna see it,” he growls, his fingers picking up the pace. “I wanna see your pretty cunt cum on my fingers.”

You gasp, your thighs trembling, and he can feel the tight coil in his stomach winding tighter.

“Yes,” you breathe, jerking your hips even more. “I’m close. I’m gonna—”

“That’s right,” he groans. “Cum for me. Let me hear you.”

With a low moan, your back arches and your walls clench around his fingers. Echo’s hips buck, his cock throbbing as your release covers his hand, dripping down his wrist and forearm.

“Fuck,” you moan, your eyes squeezed shut, your mouth open, a soft whine escaping you.

“Yeah, there we go,” he whispers, his fingers continuing their movement, drawing out your orgasm.

When you finally relax, your head falls forward, and you let out a low moan. Echo’s fingers slow, his movements becoming lazy, and he leans forward to press a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Good girl,” Echo whispers, his scomp arm wrapping around your waist.

“Fuck, Echo, what the fuck.” Your eyes flutter open, and you look down at him, your face flushed. “That was…what the fuck.”

“Are you alright?” he asks, his tone teasing.

“Yes,” you say, nodding. “Shit.”

He chuckles and removes his fingers from you. You whimper and grip his biceps, digging your nails into his flesh. You both moan at the sight of your juices coating his hand, his fingers shiny and wet.

You reach down and grasp his hand, bringing it up to your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lap at your slickness, and his cock throbs.

“Fuck,” Echo groans as he watches you clean his fingers with your tongue, your eyes never leaving his. His eye contact breaks as you take his index finger into your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue around the digit.

“Fuck, cyare,” Echo gasps, his cock twitching.

Your tongue wraps around his middle finger, and his hips buck involuntarily, his cock brushing against your thigh. You let out a muffled moan, your eyes fluttering shut, and he lets out a ragged breath.

“Kriff,” he breathes, his eyes glued to your mouth. “You’re killing me, sweetheart.”

You smirk, your tongue trailing down his index finger, then moving to his ring finger. He can’t help but rock his hips, the friction sending a jolt of pleasure through him.

Your eyes flutter open and lock on his, and he bites back a groan. The sight of you is almost too much to bear. Your mouth is so hot, your lips soft and plump, and the way your tongue dances over his fingers has him panting and his cock throbbing.

“Such a good girl.” His voice is low and thick with lust, and you let out a muffled whimper.

His scomp comes up to rest on the back of your neck, and you tilt your head back, letting his finger slide deeper into your mouth. Your cheeks hollow, and he moans, his hips grinding against yours.

You hum in response, and his cock twitches, a bead of pre-cum leaking out.

“Come here.” He pulls you down to kiss you, his tongue swiping across your lips. You gasp, opening your mouth to allow his tongue entrance. His cock is straining against his briefs, his tip pressed against your core.

He swallows your moans as he rocks his hips, rubbing his length against your sensitive flesh.

“I think you’re wearing too many clothes,” you mumble against his lips, your fingers curling into his briefs.

“Oh?” He quirks an eyebrow at you.

“Yeah,” you breathe, tugging at the waistband. “Can I?”

Echo sucks in a breath, his heart pounding. “Only if you want to, cyare.”

“I do,” you murmur as you scoot back. Your fingers dipping below the fabric, and Echo hisses as they ghost along the tip of his cock.

You smile, your fingers curling around the base of his shaft, and Echo moans, his hips rocking, seeking more friction. “Can I, Echo?”

“Let me help you,” he offers, shifting your position so that you are both sitting up.

Echo moves you off him and sits on the edge of the bed. Getting fully undressed is always a challenge with his cybernetics, and things tend to get caught if he isn’t careful. But the way you look at him makes it all worthwhile.

You settle behind him, your hands moving to his back. You trace the scars there, your fingertips featherlight, and he shivers, his eyes closing.

You place a soft kiss between his shoulder blades, your hands moving down to rest on his hips. You press another kiss to the nape of his neck, then another, and another.

Echo’s heart swells, and he can’t help but moan as you move down, your lips trailing along his spine. Your hands slip around his waist, your fingers tracing the scarred tissue of his legs.

“So handsome,” you whisper, and he feels his cheeks heat. “Beautiful.”

Echo shudders, his breath hitching. He’s always been insecure about his body, and you know this. You always know how to make him feel good about himself, how to make him forget.

“Cyare,” he murmurs, turning his head to look over his shoulder at you. You are sitting behind him, and when you meet his gaze, he sees the desire burning in your eyes.

You move around to the front of him, your hands gliding up his thighs. Your eyes lock onto his, your fingers trailing along the waistband of his boxers. He lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them off, and you toss them aside, a wicked smirk spreading across your lips.

You settle between his legs, and Echo feels his heart race, his cock throbbing. 

“You’re gorgeous,” you whisper, your hand wrapping around his shaft.

He hisses, his eyes falling closed, his hips bucking involuntarily. Your thumb rubs circles over the tip, spreading the moisture that has gathered there.

Your lips meet his, your tongue sweeping into his mouth, and he groans, his hand sliding up to tangle in your hair. He can feel your grin against his lips, your grip tightening on his cock.

He breaks the kiss, his head falling back, and you kiss him again, your lips moving to his jaw. You trail kisses along his throat, your teeth grazing his skin.

Your hand pumps up and down, your fingers teasing the underside of his cock, and he shudders, his hips jerking.

“Cyare,” he growls, and you smile, your tongue darting out to lick a stripe up his throat.

Your grip tightens, your thumb brushing the tip, and his hips jerk again, a groan escaping him. Your free hand moves to cup his balls, and he hisses, his hips bucking.

“Kriff,” he breathes, his cock throbbing.

“So good,” you purr, your hand stroking him.

He grunts, his eyes fluttering shut, his hips rocking. Your tongue traces his collarbone, and he moans, his head falling back.

“You’re so big,” you murmur, your lips brushing the base of his neck. “I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

“Cyare,” Echo growls, his hips thrusting up, his cock aching. “Don’t tease.”

You laugh, your teeth nipping at his throat. “Patience, handsome.”

He growls again, his hand tugging at your hair. “I want to cum in that pretty little cunt of yours.”

“Then why don’t you?” You ask, your hand slowing.

“You’re in charge,” Echo groans, his eyes snapping open. “I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I want to feel you,” you murmur, your lips ghosting along his throat.

“Anything you want,” Echo moans, his head falling back, his hips thrusting up, seeking more friction. “Just say the word.”

“Echo,” you whine, your hand moving up and down, your thumb rubbing the tip. “Fuck me, Echo.”

Echo’s eyes fly open, his hips jerking, and he moans, his hand wrapping around your wrist. “Cyare.”

Your lips brush against his ear, and you whisper, “I want to feel you inside me, Echo. I want you to fill me up.”

“I want to fuck you into this mattress, believe me,” he growls, his voice low. “But I don’t want to crush you.”

The thought is almost too much, the idea of you underneath him, your body pressed against his, his cock buried deep inside you, and his resolve wavers for a moment. But his prosthetics are heavy, and the last thing he wants is for you to get hurt. You can figure out the logistics another time.

“Okay.” You assure him, your hand moving up to cup his cheek. “Okay.” 

You stand up, and he watches as you move onto the bed, your movements slow and deliberate. He’s just starting to convince himself you’re going to listen to his warning until you turn, maneuvering yourself onto your hands and knees, presenting yourself to him.

Your back is arched, your hips pushed out, your ass and cunt on display for him, and his jaw drops.

“Kriff,” he whispers.

“Please, Echo,” you breathe. “I need you.”

“Fuck.” Echo curses, his heart racing.

You’re so beautiful like this, your ass up, your pussy glistening with your arousal.

“Is that a yes?” You tease, your voice low, wiggling your hips enticingly.

“Yes,” he growls, and you let out a satisfied little purr, watching him as he climbs back onto the bed.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, running a hand along your back. He shifts forward and positions himself behind you, his hand squeezing your ass. “Fuck.”

“Stop teasing,” you say, wiggling your hips. Echo’s cock twitches at the sight, and he guides it between your legs, rubbing it against your wetness.

“Please, Echo.”

You look back at him, and he locks eyes with you as he sinks into you. You’re so wet, your heat enveloping him. Your eyes close, your lips part, a moan escaping you.

His hips snap forward, his cock thrusting into you, and you both groan at the feeling of him filling you completely. Echo pulls your hips closer, his scomp arm wrapping around your stomach. He starts to thrust, slowly at first but quickly picking up speed. Your hands scramble for purchase against the sheets, your head falling forward as he moves. His hand grips your hips, your back, your thigh, anything he can reach.

You feel so good, so warm and soft and wet. He buries his face in your hair, his mouth pressing hot kisses against your neck, his teeth nipping your ear.

He feels your walls clench around him, and he growls, his hand sliding between your legs. His fingers find your clit, stroking it in time with his thrusts, and you cry out, your body shaking.

“Fuck,” you breathe, and Echo grins.

“Yes,” he groans, his fingers working faster, his cock pounding into you.

You’re so tight, so perfect, and he knows he won’t last long.

Echo’s rhythm grows faster, his hips slamming against you, his cock driving deeper inside you. His scomp arm tightens around you, and he can feel you trembling. The feeling of your cunt squeezing him is almost too much, your slick walls tightening around him.

“Please, cyar'ika,” he chokes out, his voice hoarse.

“I’m close,” you moan. “Harder.”

He picks up the pace, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper into you on each thrust. You let out a gasp, your head falling forward as your body rocks, your ass grinding against him.

Echo leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, his cock pushing even deeper into you.

“You’re taking my cock so well, sweetheart,” he growls in your ear, his fingers circling your clit. “You’re gonna make me cum so hard.”

You whimper, and Echo feels your walls flutter around him. Your thighs clench, your toes curling, and he groans, his scomp arm holding you close, his hand still working between your legs.

“Fuck,” you moan, your nails scratching against the sheets, and he can feel you start to shake.

“Yes,” he growls, his cock slamming into you.

“Echo,” you whimper. “Echo, I —”

Your words are cut off with a cry, and your muscles spasm around him as you come. Your cunt pulses around him, and he lets out a choked gasp, his cock pulsing. He fucks you through your orgasm, his thrusts growing erratic. He isn’t going to last much longer.

“That’s it,” he groans, his hips grinding against you, his hand moving down to caress your ass. “Fuck, I’m so close.”

“Come inside me,” you plead.

“Fuck, I’m —” he chokes out.

His scomp arm loosens around you, his hand gripping your hip. “Don’t stop,” you beg, your hand coming down to grip his scomp and guide it back to your stomach. “Please. I want to feel you." 

His thrusts become more erratic, his breathing ragged. His hips jerk forward, and he comes with a hoarse shout, his cock throbbing. His cum coats your walls, filling you, and you moan, your head falling back.

For a moment, he’s suspended in the aftershocks, his hips grinding against you, his cock still twitching inside you. It almost feels too good to be real, and he doesn’t want it to end, but slowly, he regains control of himself.

He slides his hand from your hip, letting his forehead rest against your back. He breathes you in, your scent making his cock twitch again. He can feel you trembling, your muscles relaxing, and you let out a contented sigh. He places a kiss between your shoulder blades, his arms coming around you to hold you against him. 

His hips shift slightly, and you clamp down around him, a gasp escaping you. He can’t resist the temptation, and his hips rock against you, his cock sliding deeper. 

"Oh, stars,” you whimper, your muscles clenching around him. “Kriff.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his scomp arm pulling you closer. He kisses your shoulder, his lips trailing along your spine.

“So full,” you gasp.

“Do you want me to pull out?” He asks, his hand cupping your breast, his thumb stroking your nipple.

“No,” you moan, your head falling forward. “Just stay there for a moment.”

He does, his hand moving to caress your hips. He can feel you trembling, your walls clenching around him, and you let out a ragged gasp as his cock pulsates inside you.

You stay like that for a while longer before he finally shifts his hips, his legs aching, and pulls his cock out of you. You let out a disappointed groan as your body clamps down around nothing. He watches, transfixed, as the thick white liquid oozes from you, coating your folds.

“Beautiful,” he whispers, his hand moving down to gather some on his fingertips. He brings his hand up to your lips, his finger pushing past them, and you suck on it eagerly.

“Mmhmm,” you hum, your tongue swirling around his finger.

He pulls his finger from your mouth, wiping it on the sheets, and kneels next to you off the bed.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Your voice is hoarse, your eyes half-lidded.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Okay,” you mumble, and he lifts you off the bed. You lean into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as he carries you to the fresher.

You shower together and Echo carefully washes every inch of your body with a gentle touch. You begin to rouse, your eyes becoming more alert, and he can see the blush creep over your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your lips pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. You trail your lips over the sharp line of his jaw, and he lets out a contented sigh, his hand stroking your back.

“Anytime, cyare,” he replies, his scomp arm pulling you close, his nose nuzzling against yours.

The exhaustion seeps into both of your bodies, and you towel off before Echo scoops you up in his arms and carries you back to bed, ignoring your protests that you can walk.

You crawl into bed, and Echo wraps his arms around you, pulling you against him. You nestle into his side, your head resting on his chest, your arm draped over his torso. He places a kiss on the top of your head, his hand tracing patterns along your spine. It feels so right having you here, and he wishes it could always be this way.

“Echo?” You murmur softly.

“Yes?”

“I love you,” you mumble, your voice muffled against his chest.

“I love you too,” he says, his heart swelling. “So much.”

“I’m gonna have a really hard time letting you go again,” you admit with your eyes closed.

Echo swallows hard, feeling a tightness in his chest. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s going to have a hard time leaving you again too.

But he doesn’t want to think about that right now. Not when he has you in his arms. He holds you tighter, his hand caressing your back, his lips pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head.

“Me too, cyare.”

“You’ll come back, right?” you ask, your voice small.

“Always.”

You sigh, your hand curling into a fist on his chest. He reaches down, smoothing it out. “Get some sleep,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Stay with me,” you plead, your eyes opening to look up at him. He isn’t sure if you mean just for the night, or forever, and he isn’t going to ask.

“As long as I can,” he promises, and he feels you relax against him.

It doesn’t take long for you to fall asleep, your breathing evening out, your chest rising and falling. He watches you for a while, his thumb brushing across your cheek, his heart aching. He knows he should get some sleep too, but his mind won’t stop racing.

He is going to have to leave you again. You’ll be alone. Again. It is the right thing to do, and he knows that, but it doesn’t make it any easier. It doesn’t make him want to take you with him any less.

He wants to. Kriff, he wants to. It would be dangerous, but you could do it. It’s selfish, and he knows it, but he wants to have you in his arms every night, have your voice in his ear, your body pressed against his.

Echo closes his eyes, pulling you closer, and takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He tries to quiet his mind, to clear his thoughts. He doesn’t know how long he lies there, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing. Finally, he feels you stir against him, your fingers flexing against his chest.

“I can feel your heartbeat,” you murmur, your hand moving down to rest over his heart. Your fingers tap gently. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he lies, his hand reaching up to brush the hair from your face. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“Everything,” he replies, his fingers ghosting along your cheek. “Nothing.”

You prop yourself up, and his arm slides from your shoulders to wrap around your waist. Your fingers brush his cheek, and he leans into your touch. “Talk to me, Echo.”

“What’s there to say, cyare?” He whispers, his gaze shifting back to the ceiling. “I’m here, but only for a little while. Then I have to leave again. I have to go, and you have to stay. And we don’t know when we’ll see each other again.”

“I don’t have to stay here, Echo. You know that, right?“ you ask quietly, and his gaze snaps back to you, his eyes locking with yours. "If you want me to come with you, all you have to do is say the word.”

“I can’t do that to you, cyare.” His voice is low, his jaw clenching.

“You can’t do what?”

“Put you in danger. Make you live in fear again. Make you run from one hiding place to another.”

“Echo, you’re not making me do anything. I want to help.” You pause, searching his face. “I want to be with you.”

“But it’s dangerous,” he protests. He can hear how his voice wavers, and he clears his throat. “You could get hurt. I can’t lose you. I can’t.”

“You won’t,” you insist.

“How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not,” you say. “But I’d rather die knowing I was fighting for something important than live my life pretending it doesn’t exist. I’d rather fight beside you than spend my life wondering if you’re okay.”

“But…” Echo trails off, his mind spinning. He knows he can’t deny that you’re right. That’s part of the reason he was drawn to you, isn’t it? You have a strength, a resolve that few people possess.

“Let me help,” you plead. “I’m not saying you have to drag me everywhere you go, but let me do something. Let me help you. We can figure something out.”

Echo’s mind races, trying to find some excuse to put you off. But the more he thinks about it, the more it makes sense. You are a damn good medic, and if they can find a way to keep you safe, you could be a valuable asset. And, kriff, the thought of having you close again, of seeing you every day, of having someone else on his side…it’s tempting.

“Please,” you murmur, your hand cupping his face. Your thumb rubs soothing circles into his cheekbone, and he can feel his resolve slipping with every touch. 

“We can talk to the others,” he finally says. “See what they think.”

“Okay.” You press a soft kiss to his forehead, his nose, his lips, and he sighs, his hand moving to the small of your back.

“Thank you,” you murmur, settling back down on his chest.

“For what?”

“Giving me a chance.”

“Of course.” He wraps his arm around your waist, his hand rubbing your back. He wants to tell you that he will always give you a chance. That he will never let anyone else come between you. That he will always protect you, no matter what. But he doesn’t. It’s too much, too soon.

Instead, he pulls you close, his lips brushing the top of your head. “I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too.”

The two of you lay like that for a while, the silence enveloping the room, only the sound of the distant ocean and the chirping of the night bugs filling the air.

Finally, he feels your breathing slow, and he knows you’ve fallen asleep again.

Echo closes his eyes, his fingers brushing lightly over your skin, his heart heavy in his chest. He’s not sure if he can let you do this. If he can put you in danger like that. But, kriff, he doesn’t want to say goodbye to you again either.

He takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you. You murmur something unintelligible, your nose burying into his chest. He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and he hopes, against all odds, that he’ll never have to let go.

[tbaluver]

hello there ! firstly, i wanted to tell you that i genuinely love your writing bc of the amazing characterization of the lnds boys !!! i wanted to request smth myself <3 feel free to ignore this if it's smth not within your taste !

i just recently thought that it would be cute to have a reader with a disney princess-like voice singing lullabies ! it could be their child or someone they babysit ! you could do any of the lnds boys that react to this but personally i'd like to see zayne (mainly bc he'd probably see reader at the hospital's kids area doing this !) and sylus, please ! thank you for your writing, we adore it ! ฅᐢ..ᐢ₎♡

When They Hear You Singing A Lullaby- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: fluff fluff a/n: eeeee anonnie i'm so happy to hear you love my writings it always makes me day !! im always grateful and love your guys support for my silly writings ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) i hope this is alright and that you enjoy this anonnie ! and also this emoticon is so cute omg i'm going to use this often ฅᐢ..ᐢ₎♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

You thought he would be sound asleep when he was over at your place when you were babysitting one of your co-workers baby. The baby wasn't necessarily fussy at all with you but it started crying because it couldn't go to sleep. It woke Xavier up and he followed the sound of the crying down the hall until he overheard you singing a lullaby.

He would peek through the door to hear and watch you put the baby back to sleep. He watches in pure adoration, a soft smile spreading across his face. After you gently set the baby down, he approaches you slowly, his arms wrapping around your waist and his chin rests on your shoulder. "You sang so beautifully," He whispers softly, careful not to disturb the baby. "Can you sing me to sleep next?"

"As if you need any help sleeping" You joked but you did it anyway. You sang a soft lullaby as he rested his head on your chest. He drifted off to sleep almost instantly, a soft smile on his face, before you could even finish the song

Zayne:

While waiting for Zayne to finish his shift at the hospital, you received a text from him apologizing for the delay; he needed to discuss an upcoming operation with his colleagues. You texted him to take his time and began exploring the familiar hospital halls. As you wandered, you found yourself in the children’s area, admiring the colorful murals that brighten the space. Your growing hunger led you in search of a vending machine, but instead, you encountered a crying familiar child patient. You remember this child when you collected their drawings for the charity event you and Zayne helped with.

You crouch down to meet eye level with the child asking if they needed any assistance or if they needed a nurse but they simply shook their head saying that they can't find the nurse and that they can't sleep. They tugged your arm and asked if you can tell them a story or sing them a lullaby and you were more than happy to help out.

After finishing his shift, Zayne looked for you in the work hallway, but it was empty. He texted you but got no response, so he followed your shared location. As he approached, he heard you singing a familiar children's lullaby. Peeking through the door, he saw your back turned as you sang. He didn't want to interrupt but wanted to hear the whole song for himself too, captivated by your delicate and graceful voice. He was literally melting on the spot as he heard you sing. A smile would slowly spreading across his lips.

He's heard you humming before, usually when your doing your work or when you were helping him out in the kitchen. You let your mind drift off just a little bit as you hummed some of your favorite melodies. He already knew you had a beautiful voice but every time he tried to comment on it, your cheeks would heat up in embarrassment.

Lost in thought, Zayne was startled when you both unexpected crossed paths. You jumped as you emerged from the room, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, worried that he had heard everything. He spoke first, "There is no reason to be flustered. I think you have a beautiful voice and it's certainly comforting. Whenever you are comfortable I would like to hear more of it."

Rafayel:

He was over at your house while you babysat one of your co-workers baby for the day. He asked if you needed any help when the baby started crying but you said it was okay as you ran off the go tend to the baby while he continued sketching on his sketchbook.

That's when he hears your voice. He sets aside his pencil and sketchbook, stopping his work to peek through the doorway. There, he watches you sing a lullaby while gently cradling the baby. He would think that your voice was beautiful and enchanting that seemed to effortlessly captivate all who hears it.

When you gently put the baby back down to it's bed, he'll be upset. Not literally. But upset that he hasn't heard you sing him a lullaby or ever heard you sing first or at all. He would pout and want you to sing him a lullaby immediately.

When you do, he falls asleep on your shoulder while he was sketching so when he wakes up he thinks your secretly full Leumurian because he hasn't heard a beautiful voice like that years ago.

Sylus:

While Sylus was away on business, you let him know that you were busy taking care of your coworker's baby at your shared home. To be prepared, you had Luke and Kieran on standby in case you needed a break. When the baby began to cry, you swiftly picked them up, cradling them and singing a soothing song. Meanwhile, Luke and Kieran lingered in the hallway, and one of them decided to record your sweet singing and send it to Sylus, giggling as they did so knowing that he would love this.

As night fell and your coworker came to collect their baby, Sylus arrived shortly afterward. “Two little crows mentioned you can sing, sweetie. Is that true?” A blush spread across your cheeks, realizing that the twins had set you up once again. "I wish I could have been there to hear it myself. A video is not the same to hearing your mesmerizing voice in person."

Although he finds it amusing and adorable, he would ask if you could sing him a song to help him unwind because the business he dealt with was stressful. He wouldn't pressure you to sing him a lullaby but he would reassure you that your voice was already one of his favorite sounds already and nothing would ruin that.

That seemed to ease your worries, and as you both settled into bed, you let him unwind. You sang the same lullaby to him that you’d sung to the baby. Your gentle voice was incredibly soothing, wrapping him in a warmth and coziness he hadn’t felt in a long time. Despite his usual trouble with sleep, your voice made his eyelids grow heavy, a contented smile spreading across his lips as he drifted off.

It was no surprise that he loved hearing you sing and you having this skill made him think that it made you more beautiful to him than you already were.

[here-lies-they-ran-outta-luck]

Prettiest Witch at Hogwarts (Theodore Nott x fem!reader)

Warnings: small italian!thoe, friends to lovers, comfort, angst, cussing, flirting, bad writing

a/n- this was not a request, but I did have a really good time writing it! I love this fic so much for no reason

word count- 847

“You, my dear, are the prettiest girl I have ever met,” Pansy said, dropping her voice an octave, reenacting what a boy had done to you today in an attempt to woo you. Her hand brushing your cheek the same way the boy had attempted to do makes you burst out in a loud laughter, causing the rest of the group to follow along.

“The poor bloke! Did he seriously think that would work?” Mattheo cackles, wiping a tear from his eye.

“I swear, I can never get a break! You four are the only boys that don’t chase after me!” You sigh, leaning back into the cushion of the couch, unbeknownst to you Pansy sends Theo a small smirk with raised eyebrows. Pansy was the only person that knew about your mild crush on Theodore Nott, your best friend. Pansy and Mattheo both knew that Theo has been in love with you for years. To everyone though, it was obvious that the lingering glances meant more than friends to the both of you.

The group decided to spend the rest of the night making fun of all of the boys that have tried to get with you since your growth spurt in 4th year.

“You’re gonna let me take you out to Hogsmeade, right?” Adriand Pucy, a boy you have rejected over and over since day one, asks you, leaning up against the exit of the Slytherin common room.

“Haven’t I told you no already today?” You reply, stopping and looking up at him with disgust present on your face.

“I know you don’t have a date, so why don’t you just give me a chance, let me take you out,” The boy says, pushing off of the wall in what was supposed to look attractive, ultimately failing in the end though.

“Who told you she doesn’t have a date? Come on bella, lets go,” Theo says, slinging his arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer into him, engulfing you in the smell of his expensive-smelling cologne.

“Out of all the boys she could choose you really think she’d pick you? You wouldn’t even be on her top ten,” Pucy says, glaring at the taller boy.

“Merlin Pucy, have some self respect! If you ever thought you had a chance with me you certainly have less of one than before,” you say, giving him the dirtiest look you could possibly muster, and pulling Theo away from him and towards your dorm.

You knew Theo almost better than you knew yourself. Even though Theo was the most handsome boy in the school and had his fair share of women, you knew that the mean words Pucy had said would get to him atelast a little bit. He was a Slytherin, but deep down he was still the sensitive boy you’d known for years.

“Are you alright, Theo?” You ask, sitting on your bed and scooting over so he could have room.

“I should be the one asking you that,” He replied with a sad smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You know that Pucy is just an asshole right? You would definitely be in at least my top 3,” You say after a couple of seconds, attempting to lighten the mood and make him feel better. 

“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better,” He says, looking at you with his sad blue eyes.

“Theo, I’m not lying,” You answer, scooting towards him to show your sincereness.

“Did one of them tell you?” He says, hurt filling his eyes and his body language rigid.

“Did who tell me what?” You ask, putting a hand on his back to comfort him, his posture relaxing a little.

Theo looks up at you, his eyes softening a little, “You’re so amazing,” He says softly after a couple of seconds of looking at you.

“Oh come on Theo,” You say, blushing slightly, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

“It’s true. You’re so beautiful,” He says, putting some hair behind your ear, and giving you a smile, showing you his beautifully crooked teeth.

“And you are a flirt. To think you’d never chase after me,” You say, giving him the same smile.

“Would I- um, would I really be in the top three guys?” He asks, looking at you with a serious expression.

“I would date you before I even gave another guy even a look,” You reply, giving him a soft look.

“Are you sure about that though? You know I’m kind of a mess up,” He says, looking away from you.

“It means more to me that you think that I’m amazing and beautiful. I don’t think I would even be able to explain to you how it makes me feel when you call me by your stupid Italian nicknames,” You reply, waiting for an answer. You don’t wait long and you don’t get a verbal response. Theo pulls you in and gives you a soft kiss on your lips. It’s not how he kisses girls at parties, it’s soft and full of love and adoration.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hiiii I was looking to see if your request is open but couldn’t find it so I’ll just drop it here and feel free to write it :) I love your writings! 🌸

May I ask for batboys reacting to shy reader who wants them to lie down on her lap after their long day. She wants to praise them, play with their hair and shower them with kisses :0 thank you!

Dick:

Would rest his head on your lap regardless of whether you asked him to do not, your lap was the perfect pillow for him and he will not have it any other way.

‘Hi baby.’ He greets as he beams up at you from the comfort of your lap.

‘Hi honey, long day?’ You greeted back, your hands already finding their way into his hair and began to comb through it slowly as he hums, burrowing himself closer to you as a means to feel more of you against him.

‘Yeah but it’s nothing I can’t handle.’ Dick replied and smiled wide when you kissed his cheek before kissing his nose, and felt his heart melt upon giggling you giggling when he scrunched up his face.

‘Is there nothing that my handsome man can’t do?’ You asked sarcastically as you pressed a kiss to his other cheek. ‘Or is he just the most perfect man in existence?’

Dick made a face at this. ‘Have you maybe considered that this handsome man of yours has an amazing, wonderful and beautifully cute spouse waiting at home for him as inspiration?’ He looks at you with a raised brow.

‘I’m the one who’s meant to be praising you tonight, not you praising me.’ You chuckled as you peppered his face in small, quick kisses that had Dick reaching a hand to the back of your head, holding you close so he could give you a plethora of kisses of his own.

‘Well what if we could just both praise the other tonight.’ Dick said against your lips.

‘I can deal with that.’ You replied as you spent the rest of the night whispering sweet nothings to one another and trading kisses.

Jason:

Your lap was his save haven after a long and tiresome day from having to listen to Bruce critique his way of ridding crime out of Gotham. So he wasn’t going to refuse your affection, not when you shyly patted your lap as an invite to rest his head and looking cute whilst doing so.

God had his permission to smite him to his second death should he actually refuses your requests to coddle him and shower him in all your love and adoration.

If anything the days where you offered up your lap to him were the best days of his entire life as he got to spend it looking up at an absolute angel that he was lucky enough to call his own.

‘How’s my gorgeous jay birdie feeling today?’ You asked as you kissed his along his jaw and stopping when you got to his chin.

‘I’m feeling fantastic now that I’m with you sweetheart. How about you.’ He replied back as he looked up at you with his pretty eyes that he knew made you weak. Jason only wanted to give you back the love and support that you give him on a daily basis tenfold, for it’s what you truly deserved in his eyes.

He loved you too much to allow you to settle for mediocrity.

‘I’m feeling much better now my strong, brave boy has come home to me safe and one less bruise to ice.’ You responded with a lighthearted chuckle as you lifted up one of his large hands and pressed a kiss to the back of it, before resting your cheek against it to commemorate his warmth and callouses to memory.

‘Don’t come at me with that sweetheart, I know you love icing my bruises, especially when they’re on my abdomen.’ Jason cheeked as he winked at you, taking pure enjoyment out of seeing your flustered face. It was a much needed breath of fresh air coming home to sweet, caring you from the cold, unforgiving outside and he cherished every bit of it for as long as he could.

‘Meanie.’ You murmur, booping him on the nose.

‘Meanie? How am I being mean chipmunk, I know how much you love my abs and my thighs.’ Jason chuckled as he booped your nose in retaliation. ‘Why do you think I never skip leg day?’

‘You’re more than perfect the way you are Jason,’ you countered, ‘perfect body or not you’re still my jay birdie. Forever and always.’ You whispered the last part as you pressed a sweet tender kiss to his lips as he smiled in response.

Tim:

He always finds himself perpetually tired from working himself to the bone, so when you offered up your lap for him to rest, the poor man practically sighed in relief, almost as if he were a man dying of thirst in the desert; finally having found the oasis he had been wandering aimlessly for.

‘You don’t know how much I needed this.’ Tim groans as he made himself comfortable in your lap, trying his hardest to not to close his eyes right then and there from the prepping of light kisses you were scattering across his forehead and under his eyes.

Gosh he hates how weak he gets from your little kisses but would die a little on the inside if you didn’t.

‘I’m sure I can take a guess.’ You said sweetly as you ran your hand through his hair. ‘You’ve been overworking yourself so much lately that I rarely see you as much,’ Tim’s stomach dropped upon hearing this but let you finish speaking, ‘but when I do see you it always makes me happy knowing that you’re okay.’ You then pressed a kiss to his cheek.

‘I’m sorry for-‘ you cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips, muttering a soft ‘don’t. Don’t blame yourself for things you can’t control.’

‘But I can control it!’ Tim exclaimed. ‘It’s not fair on you to exhaust yourself on me every night after patrol and still find it within yourself to take care of me…I don’t deserve any of it as it feels as though I’m taking advantage of you somehow.’ Tim trailed off as he looked away for you as guilt are away at him.

‘Tim,’ you called, ‘my sweet Tim as long as I know your okay and come home to me every night, then I don’t care how long I have to stay up just catch a glimpse of your handsome face.’ You reassured him as you kissed his jawline softly, and Tim felt himself weaken under your words and affection as he looked back up at you.

‘You really mean that?’ He asked almost quietly.

‘I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it with all my heart my sweet, smart boy.’ You said while pressing a singular kiss to his forehead.

[mad-hunts]

the relationship that jack had forged with his father was different than the others in ways he couldn't explain. for example, in comparison to matilda whom always seemed to be hyperaware of where her and barton stood, jack felt like he never quite knew where he quote unquote 'was' with his own caretaker — leading to these issues he had with attachment that a therapist long ago once told him were likely due to the fact he grew up in such an unstable environment.

but flying the coop, though it sometimes seemed appealing, was not something jack felt like he could do. because despite everything that barton had put him and their family through, jack felt this strong sense of loyalty to the rest of his siblings as well as to his father. and its not like he had a stable job at the moment; he was trying to secure a spot with a ballet company, after all, which was his true dream. but jack was working part-time as a lifeguard in between all of his classes and ballet related events.

which actually wasn't that bad of a job all things considered. it reminded him at first of how, after julien had died, he'd been afraid of the ocean for several years however. it was like jack's heart was on overdrive even around small bodies of water back then. so developing the strength to overcome this fear was probably the best thing for jack. and considering what had happened to gotham in recent events (with the riddler flooding the city), it made him think about how lucky he was to have done so before that all occurred.

i mean, could you imagine what it would've been like if jack still had thalassophobia with the flood suddenly hitting gotham like it did? lets just say, jack was grateful that jervis filled up some of the silence in the room right after he was burdened with that train of thought. a lopsided smile spread across his lips at jervis's approving comments about colin. jack had actually been keeping the fact he had a boyfriend a secret from his father, for fear that barton would take one look at colin and tell him 'no.'

therefore, it felt good to hear that from someone. the only thing he uttered was a soft 'yeah' in response to that as his eyes darted to jervis's moving hand, ❝ okay. do you like your eggs scrambled, or sunny-side up? and do you want just butter on the bread or is strawberry jam also good with you? ❞ that, as far as he could remember, was the only type they had in the fridge. jack kept his gaze on the cards as jervis spoke now, but let him know he was listening by nodding to what the other was saying.

❝ well, i'd definitely say it's a process. but you know what's funny? i don't know if you believe in any sort of afterlife but... ❞ and that was where barton had cut in, standing at the doorway as if he was waiting to be invited in like a vampire. and trust me when i say the doctor knew that jervis was probably not thrilled to see him. for, not even barton's own son looked to be eager to see him, but maybe that was just because jack knew the two held a general distaste for one another? barton didn't know but he waited in silence in any case for the farceur to leave the room with the medicine he'd given jervis.

he stepped in then only to reveal that, although he wasn't in dire straits anymore, he was still hooked up to an IV on a pole: which was a humble reminder to barton that his degree of brain swelling couldn't go away on its own. though, he wished it could. the expression on his face when jervis spoke to him said all that needed to be said: barton didn't believe for a second that the other meant that. ❝ no, you want to see me burn in hell, don't you? the least you can do is be honest about it. ❞

he stated this in a very 'matter-of-fact' tone, as if the thought of someone hating him that much didn't affect him. an incredulous chuckle left barton's mouth afterward, though, and that wasn't nothing. he slowly but surely used that IV pole as leverage to drag himself over to the cabinet next to jervis's bedside. opening the bottom drawer revealed old clothes of barton's within it, ❝ ravi, the man you met down at the bistro we went to earlier today? he called me, and he immediately asked me if i was in some form of trouble. because ravi told me he had to lie to the cops about us being at the bistro. ❞

barton pulled out a clean shirt to replace his dirty and bloodied one with before turning to face jervis, ❝ and i thought we were in enough trouble already, but marty, the guy i killed was apparently the son of a police captain. meaning those pigs in the GCPD might not actually stop until they find us. so i might need your help with creating a very... elaborate plan to kill him. ❞

Poor Jack's anxiety was written all over his face and body language. Despite his efforts to appear calm and reassuring, Jervis could sense the strain beneath the surface. Though he disliked Barton, he couldn't bring himself to be indifferent. It wasn’t in his nature to ignore someone else's pain, and the last four hours must have been brutal for the Mathis siblings.

A part of Jervis was still ashamed that he had even lost consciousness under the physical and mental strain, sinking into the depths of his mind like something swept away by the Lethe’s currents—except, unlike the myth, Jervis couldn’t forget. His past, fractured as it was, stayed with him. And as much as his memories pained him, Jervis refused to let them go. Forgetting Alice and Sylvie would be like losing them all over again. That was unbearable.

A shiver ran down his spine at the thought, and his hand instinctively reached for the chain beneath his collar, rolling his and Sylvie’s wedding rings like rings on an astrolabe.

He wasn't a fool. Jervis knew this was a difficult situation they had dragged Jack and Matilda into, and he felt sorry for both. But his empathy ran deepest for Jack. He didn’t know the young man well, but there was an unmistakable connection—a shared understanding, almost like neurons firing in unison. What had Sylvie once told him? Something about fungal hyphae—that they could sense their environment, responding to the slightest change. They weren’t like staid, immobile plants, she had said. Hyphae were dynamic, constantly adapting to their surroundings.

Even all these years, Jervis could still hear her voice, vividly recall the way her eyes lit up when she spoke of such things. "They feel their way through the world," she'd explained, with that endearing mixture of fascination and tenderness he had grown to love so well. "They detect ridges and surfaces, change their shape to fit. They know how to survive, how to grow, even in the strangest conditions."

It had stuck with him, the way she saw life in things most people overlooked. Jervis laid there, nodding faintly as Jack's voice washed over him; the parallel trains of thought made him pause. Maybe grief was like that too—constantly adapting, reshaping itself to fit the cracks in your soul.

Jervis’ hand loosened on the chain as he looked over at Jack, the faint clink of the rings barely audible as they slid along the silver links. He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping briefly. "Yeah... She was everything," he said quietly, almost to himself. His voice wavered, caught between the here and now and somewhere else entirely; hoarse but steadying. "Accepted every part of me, even the worst parts." His fingers tightened again, this time more gently, as if grounding himself.

Behind Jack, Sylvie was seated on the floor, legs folded casually beneath her. She tilted her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "You always were too hard on yourself," she murmured, her tone light.

Jervis' breath hitched, his eyes briefly closing before refocusing on Jack. "You and Colin—he sounds good for you. Someone who keeps you on your toes, makes life richer." He paused, blinking slowly as though waking from a dream. "That’s… important."

Sylvie stood now, a faint shimmer at the edge of his vision, her fingers brushing lightly against his arm as she passed. "I’m still here, you know." Her voice was soft, steady. "You called me."

Jervis swallowed hard, his hand instinctively reaching for the space where her touch lingered before dropping back to his side on the mattress. "Breakfast for dinner sounds good," he said, almost absently, a quiet smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I think… I’d like that."

His eyes flicked once more to where Sylvie had been; gone without a trace, but the weight of her presence still lingered like a hint of smoke drifting in the breeze.

"You know…" Jervis started again, the words coming slowly as he glanced back at Jack while he began sifting through the tarot cards. "It's strange. Sometimes you think you’re done… that you’ve made your peace, and then the grief sneaks back up on you. Makes you feel like you’re right back where you started... it's almost enough to drive anyone mad... but it's a process, right?"

The moment shattered with a soft clearing of a throat from the doorway. Jervis tensed, every muscle recoiling. He didn’t need to look up to know who it was. Oh, bloody hell… this bloke, again?

It took everything in him not to snap at Barton to piss off. Irritation surged through his chest, white-hot, but exhaustion won out. He almost couldn’t bring himself to react, in all honesty, the weariness in his bones outweighing the anger... You’re like a damn cockroach… he thought, half-bitter, half-bemused. Terribly rude of you to interrupt.

"Hey, citrouille," Barton said casually to Jack. "Mind stepping out for a minute? I need to talk to Jervis."

Jack hesitated, glancing between his father and Jervis, but eventually rose. Barton patted him on the shoulder, tone light, as if unaware—or possibly indifferent—to the tension in the air.

As Jack left, Barton held up his phone, waving it in front of Jervis. "I just got an interesting phone call I thought you might want to hear about."

Jervis exhaled, met Barton’s gaze. It took every ounce of flagging willpower not to tell him exactly where he could stick his ‘interesting’ call. Sylvie’s presence slipped further from his mind, swallowed by the suffocating weight of Barton’s intrusion.

He forced a tired smile, his voice flat. "Glad to see you back on your feet," he finally muttered. "At least one of us is standing upright."

[dreamesamu]

THE THINGS HE TAKES FOR GRANTED

in which he takes a moment to justify himself after never noticing your little crush for him

starring. akaashi keiji x fem!reader

genre(s): angst to fluff, (super, like-) long scenario 

warning(s): none, i think so? except for clueless keiji and not proof-reading

author’s note: akaashi is just a major green flag in this (every haikyu!! boy is 😭) i feel too bad to write them red-flag-y.

choose your character: m. atsumu | k. akaashi

you’ve known akaashi for quite some time, starting from your last year of fukurodani academy and then serendipity brought you both ended up being each other’s classmate at a same college/university. bokuto kotaro was your best friend, the little owl introduced his favorite setter to you and the friendship of three gradually become established, and as if it can not be any more inevitably, you eventually developed a secret admiration for the pretty setter when you three have been closed enough. however, graduating separated ways, kotaro pursued his journey to become professional in volleyball while keiji, once said to you he wanted a place in the literature department.

truth be told, even if you promised each other you would still keep in touch and plan every weekend friend group meeting online or offline, you’ve never expect you would share every class in higher education life with your crush, the akaashi keiji. the great thing is you both are paired up for an presentation assignment in the major you and him pursue, you do have plenty of time to stay close and grab his attention from making gestures that he usually failed to realizes.

here you are again, happily humming your favourite song while carrying a box wrapped with a small detailed towel, some big rolls of assignment paper stuck underneath your arm as you make your way back to where you both planned to finish the project - the library. 

“keiji, i’m back!” you set your things respectively on the table, and akaashi nods with a smile on his face in acknowledgement.

“oookay, so here’s your today’s snack, I hope you’ll like it” you grin, tapping on the box before pushing it to his side as he receives it and casually opens it while speaking.

“hmm? are those sketches of our poster? you can always edit them on the computer, why the effort?” he chuckled softly before completely unwrapping the bento box.

“I’m not good at designing and stuff. I may draw as I like and you’ll be the one to edit it on the computer.” you puff your cheek out, hands resting on hips as you watch his reaction to your delicately decorated sweets in the box made for him.

“this looks amazing.” he smiles upon seeing the pastries you made, decorated beautifully with different kinds of fruit as each pastry has different flavours, you probably did not stay up so late last night just to make all kinds of flavours for him to show how much you like him. yeah, probably not.

"oh, it's nothing, I just hope it doesn't taste bad" you chuckle nervously while scratching the back of your neck, letting his praise send you up to cloud nine.

your actions falter when you see akaashi put back the box's cap on, set it aside as he leans over to reach the posters you drew.

"now then, can we start working on the project?" he spreads out the piece of paper, glancing at you as you stand there awkwardly, prefer him taking a bite to look through all of your efforts than just shrugging it off and go straight to the main part of your study session.

"what...? oh- um..." you trail off, a bit embarrassed. "wouldn't you like to try one out? it won't hurt to just have a taste of it..."

"maybe later, y/n. we have other things need to be done right now." he merely states, eyes study the poster in front of him, unknowingly sinking your heart.

"yes, right." you shift slightly, taking the sit by the opposite of him, trying to catch up with him on the progress.

you let your mind wanders off how many times you've lost count already while akaashi quietly focused on scribbling something in his notebook, every thoughts you have are always about keiji, your feelings and the stare you give him thinking it's discreet. what's stopping him from trying my tarts out? and how does he feel being around me? or is that his way of rejecting something without making that person feel bad? flooded your mind.

"y/n?" you realize his faint voice ringing somewhere "y/n..." the voice becomes clearer. "earth to y/n, you're staring." awh, snap. right.

you blink, startled before clearing your throat, mumbling a small apology as you try to get yourself busy with the work underneath you once again.

but akaashi just chuckles, his voice calm and reassuring.

"hey, you seem off today. it's lunch break, please make yourself comfortable." you fumble at his words, it's noon already? as he collects his books and tidy it up at one corner of the table before speaking again.

"yuri satsuki is inviting me to have lunch with her. would you like to also join? i think she wouldn't mind." he kindly offers, probably not knowing the words struck you shocked.

you know satsuki-senpai, she's a year older than you and has been a social butterfly ever since you set foot in student life. she is a nice person, you conceived, but not until you found out that she has a huge crush on your akaashi keiji, her behaviour in your eyes became somewhat annoying. in return, she did realize she had a rival to win over him, you acknowledge that through the smug look she gave every time akaashi was around her instead of you, that is how the tension gradually builds up between you and your pain-in-the-ass rival.

and now she's even invited keiji for lunch? you feel an uncomfortable twist in your belly, screaming that if you do not take further actions, you lose akaashi to her. but his way of discarding your hard work, also known as an attempt to get his attention earlier discourages you hastily. this comes to a realization: ever since he start hanging out with satsuki-senpai, he has never touched one of your cooks once.

"no, i'm fine staying here. you go" you force a smile waving him goodbye. he hesitates upon seeing the downward trend of your mood as well as the strange attitude every time he brings up yuri.

"what are you waiting for?" you scoff, trying your best to make it sound not so bitterly. he nods quietly before ruffles your hair, thoughtfully remind you to get something to eat before start working again, and he'll be back with you soon.

you groan for the nth time in thirty minutes since his last leave, deciding not to eat anything at all after you laugh bitterly to yourself seeing the bento box laid cold by his stuffs which corrects your thoughts that he is not going to appreciate what you did for him.

the chair scraped the floor when you stand up, attempting to compose yourself when you feel your brain need a break from overthinking such situations.

on the way out of the library, your eyes meet yuri satsuki's, assuming that keiji is just somewhere around here as his lunch break partner is the person you least excited to bump into.

"well, well. isn't that the girl whose best friend choose to hang out with me instead of her?"

excuse me?

"don't get too ahead of yourself, satsuki-senpai. just a friendly reminder" your tone evidently irritated as you flash her an unamused smile, trying to avoid her as soon as possible.

but the radio scene of her voice replayed all over your head, your mind goes muddy despite the fresh air you're trying to take in, you let out a shaky breath, tears brimming out.

maybe, he doesn't quite noticed the things I did for him after all...

---

"you're back. where were you?" akaashi worried tone surprises you after a quite fine time of trying to find you because your study desk in the library was empty.

"i was... out for fresh air. why?" your voice is off and he noticed that. he always knew when something is bothering you, and right now he definitely know that something is wrong.

"after i finished my lunch i got yours, 'cause i know when i'm back you would still hadn't eaten anything." his brows slightly furrow seeing your avoiding attitude.

"thanks, keiji." you said briefly, take the package from his hand and sit down on your seat, never forget to notice the pastry box still intact.

your strange attitude didn't just stop there, it confuses akaashi for a more couple of days of your avoidance, he dislike the way you put a small distance between you both in study sessions, you flinch and tense around him more often, your answers and conversations are brief and sometimes awkward as you seem to be more preoccupied and attentive rather than to communicate with him.

"good morning, y/n." he smiles, your state has been bothering him for days as he is paying attention to your fade grin and a small "hey" as a greet back.

then he fumbles. something is missing...

oh. but then, realization sets in him quite quickly: you didn't bring any homemade sweets today.

"y/n..." he hesitates, meeting your eyes as you lift your head up from the notebook you're scribbling on. "does your home perhaps... out of ingredients or something?"

you are stunned for a moment, knowing exactly what he was trying to imply, scared to look at him directly in the eye as you shift your gaze elsewhere, pretending to have forgotten.

"oh... you mean the pastries... I forgot to do it. I was busy yesterday"

lies. he see through it, you know that, but you can't just blurt it all out that you're heartbreaking because of his indirect rejection that never says he doesn't like you, but makes you feel like it did.

"hey... i know something is wrong, can you tell me what it is?"

there it is - the worried look on such handsome face that never fails to make your heart flutter. but you know, that is just his nature of being an attentive and thoughtful person, not just for only you, but for everyone in his orbit.

so his question remained unanswered.

akaashi has been extremely distracted due to the sudden lack of your affection on him. it's just doesn't feel the same. even if he refuses it but deep down, he misses your midday snacks, your bubbly laugh around him and that flushed cheeks you wear every time he caught you staring. it has been a whole week since, and the fact that you didn't join the friend group video call with bokuto last sunday was his last straw.

he misses you, dearly. and if he doesn't do anything now before your project is finished, he might find it difficult to approach you even when you are his best friend.

and then, on an another lovely morning in the college's campus, an emotion he thinks he's aware of stirring in his stomach at the scene of you handing out a bento box wrapped with the same detailed towel, a small smile tugs at the corner of your lips as the other boy laughs lightly, scratches his neck, sending regards with a polite bow before making his way back in the classroom, akaashi doesn't like what his eyes have witnessed, so when he met yours, the bitterful look sends shivers down your spine.

you turn away, begin to walk, you do not want to deal with your bothered heart right now, not if it has anything to do with him, with that thought, you choose to neglect it because it is just your one-sided feelings for him.

but you hear footsteps behind, next is a small "wait" escaped from his lips when he managed to catch up and hold gently on your arm. that stopped you midtrack.

"please. can we talk?" he pleads.

---

you find yourself trapped by his presence in a corner of the school's library. there's no point in avoiding now.

"i'm sorry." he states. "i like you, i should've known."

your eyes widen. why- all of a sudden?

akaashi glances at you, softly sighs before bring your hand up to his face and kiss your knuckles gently.

"i understand now, i was clueless, you have the very right to be mad at me." each sentences he speaks crack your heart, but at the same time, they give you hope.

you neither know how to react, nor what to say, you just stand there, completely speechless, it encourages him to continue his speech of pursuing you.

"the last time i went to have lunch with satsuki, she confessed to me." he stopped, watching your expression. "but i turned her down, then, she got angry and started to brag about you. i did not like what she said, so i got quite defensive and... that was when i realised."

"i didn't know when it started. i just knew that i didn't feel very comfortable seeing you bringing your pastries that was meant for me to someone else, and more it's because i didn't appreciate it."

he squeezes your hand, afraid if not, you'll slip from his grip and become somebody else's apple. he certainly dislikes the thought.

"i want your pastries back, i love them as much as i love you. please let me correct such a terrible mistake."

---

"yes, hello. i've received the box, thank you, my love."

akaashi spins his office chair slightly, softly speaking to the phone stuck between his cheek and shoulder with a smile while unwrapping a huge warm box of freshly baked tarts.

"keiji, bad news, i'm out of powdered sugar after that batch." your voice echoed on output, he chuckles.

"are you free after work? we can visit the supermarket to purchase some. i'll drive, consider this a date with me, 'mkay?"

© 2024 dreamesamu. all rights reserved.

[tim-shii]

hi! just found your acc and i just want to say i absolutely adore your work first off. you bring my wife (aventurine) to life beautifully.

saw the as a boyfriend and oh my GOD the part about him getting anxious over reader speaking with ratio? so good. i need jealous pouty aventurine. and honestly might be a bit ooc for ratio but i think he’d encourage it just to get under aventurine’s skin tbh.

up to you though, i’d love for you to write a lil drabble or something of the sorts expanding on this, whatever you have the imagination to write.

that’s all~!

a/n: tysm ?! ure so kind im glad very happy !! that u adore my work 🫶 we have to make sure wife is loved always 🫡 here's jealous aven from this ; @svnarin proofreader !! (she told me to put it here)

cw: bf!aventurine, slight angst

“such lavish proposal. are you certain i am the person who should be hearing that?”

“absolutely. you’re the perfect person i should be consulting about it.”

aventurine is not a jealous person. he’s confident in himself, you had praised him several times of how much of an amazing person he is. jealousy means there’s a lack of trust between the two of you and aventurine doesn’t like that idea at all. he thinks that trust is a significant factor when it comes to relationships. he doesn’t keep secrets and even if he does, he’ll eventually open up to you after some time.

aventurine is a quartz-based gem stone. a stone that brings good fortune and helps you create your own luck. it’s also green. the same green in the monster’s eyes that’s currently chomping down on aventurine. he can’t help it! can he really blame himself when uneasiness swirls in his stomach after seeing you with dr. ratio?

out of everyone he gets jealous of, it just had to be him. veritas ratio. his good friend, veritas. the most logical man aventurine has ever known.

while aventurine is confident in himself, no doubt there’s a part of him that feels inferior to the doctor. the man has radiant violet hair that compliments the tone and structure of his face. he also has a slightly muscular build compared to aventurine’s more slender one. there’s a lot to compare and aventurine isn’t sure if he can even list it all out.

his brows furrowed, eyes dulling as his thoughts consumed him at once. what proposal? what’s that about? and perfect person? he doesn’t understand. are you leaving him? can he really not make you stay? was it something he did? something he said? but he can’t ask you those. because what if instead of an answer, he’ll be greeted with a farewell—

a flick on his forehead snapped him out of the daze. aventurine blinks back, now finding you in front of him.

“i was right. he was sulking.” he hears veritas quip.

“not sulking. more of, in a daze.” your fingers thread through his soft locks, aventurine hums at the affection, absentmindedly leaning his cheek on your palm.

“you give him too much credit. he’s probably wallowing in the sorrows of his mind for no apparent reason.” ratio snickers ever so quietly.

“or he could just be tired and sleep deprived.”

“or he’s jealous. he glares at me any longer, my skin will start withering and rotting.” for a doctor who has more than eight doctoral degrees, he can be quite the drama queen.

“goodbye, doctor. thank you for your opinion, i shall greatly treasure your wise words.” veritas only shook his head before slipping out the door. once he’s left, all your attention shifts to your boyfriend.

aventurine lets you sit atop his lap, gloved hands instantly finding home on your hips. for a moment, you both stare at each other in complete silence.

“spit it out. what’s wrong?” you spoke first.

aventurine sighs. “i didn’t like seeing you with him.” for all his life, lying came easy. with his good looks and charming personality, making people believe whatever he says is child’s play. but aventurine can never lie to you. he doesn’t have the heart to face you once you’ve realized he’s fooled with your thoughts.

you raised a brow in amusement. “so you were jealous?”

“no. i don’t get jealous.” he grumbles. “i just,” aventurine gazes at you with a fond look, an expression so serene and completely enamored. “i’m better looking than him, right?”

blood rushed to his cheeks when he felt your lips on his. his hold moved from your hips to your neck to deepen the kiss, left thumb caressing over your pulse. he chases your lips like an intoxicated man once you pulled away. only to be stopped by you leaning your forehead on his.

“the best looking man in my life and in the whole universe. my most beloved, too.”

“you flatter me.” he grins stupidly before pulling you in for another kiss.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist

[cal-flakes]

omg !! rate (dealer or not i don't mind !!) spoiling reader after she's had a tough n emotional week :( projecting rn !! ilysm and ur writing is amazing !!

so sorry it’s so late! i’ve only just started properly writing again :( love ya

‧₊🫧꒷꒦‧₊˚⋆

— “y’okay kid?” a gruff mutter echoed from outside the bathroom as you lay still, eyes so focused yet so withdrawn as you watched the way your fingers floated in the now lukewarm bath rafe had run earlier. huffing meekly in agreement, you listened intently as his footsteps shifted, lingering for a moment. “be back soon, alright doll?” he called once more, secretly wishing for more than a distant sigh. “m’kay” you whispered, resting your head back against the cool tile.

rafe cameron was many things but never a liar, well — never to you at least. he said he’d be back soon, and back soon he was. yet, it felt like hours till you heard the familiar sound of his heavy footsteps, alongside a not so familiar rustling.

you saw it coming, the stuff knocks on the bathroom door once again, that didn’t mean you were pleased to hear them. the thought of getting out, or even just moving was exhausting, especially after such a long week, or the week of hell as you’d named it earlier, earning a sympathetic chuckle from your love as he adjusted himself in the drivers seat, ready and waiting to pick you up from work.

“c’mon darlin’ you gotta get out now, waters cold” he stated firmly, much unlike his earlier pleas. “m’coming” you huffed. “i’ma leave you to it, meet me downstairs”

it wasn’t uncommon for rafe to be so matter of fact with you anymore, he’d sharp learned that pleas and coaxing does nothing for you, never as beneficial as simply telling you.

patting the last layer of your skincare into your face, you turned slowly to open the bathroom door, eyes widening as quickly as the could as you took in the arrangement on your shared bed — tulips, pink ones specifically, chocolates, all splayed out beautifully, laid carefully beside — a teddy bear?

“rafe?” you queried, feet padding against the cold floor, pace much quicker — bouncier even now that you’d festered for a couple of hours, recharging. “yeah doll?” he hummed from the lounge, throwing his head back over the couch to look at you, lips quick to turn upwards as he noticed the new plush hanging from your grasp. “another one?” you beamed, quickly rounding the cushioned chair, all but diving into his lap — in which he was quick to catch you, placing numerous soft kisses to your freshly combed hair.

“s’nothin, just remembered you said you needed an new addition, n’you’ve had a shit week, jus’ thought it might help..” he spoke, slender fingers raking through your hair as you lay in his lap, glossy lips and glassy eyes peering up at him as though he’d gifted you the moon.

[changisworld]

Katoptronophilia with Bangchan.

->Katoptronophilia: Also known as a kink for mirrors, this includes having sex or masterbating in front of a mirror.

Word count:1,901

->Smut warnings: pussy play, fingering(f rec), use of a wand vibrator, squirting, multiple orgasms, use of a spreader bar, praiseeeee, like SO MUCH OF IT:3, reader is so shy ;(

A/N at the bottom<3

©ANY translation, copy & paste, posting of my work is strictly forbidden for ANY posts/ writing i post, 18+ MDNI!!

Kinktober masterlist here

Main masterlist here

Since kinda early on having sex with Chan, he’s picked up on the fact that you’re a bit shy while having sex, hiding your face in the pillows or your arms or purposely kissing on his neck just so he can’t watch you cum around his cock & chan honestly has no idea as to why or how you could be even the slightest bit insecure about yourself, have you not seen you?? But knowing this about you made him think of a new way to try get you to come out of your shell so to speak & feel physically good at the same time!

“Tell me if it’s too tight or hurting anywhere” he says in a reassuring voice as he finishes fitting the spreader bar to just above your ankles, not wanting to get into his own position until you yourself are comfortable.

“‘ts fine Channie, not uncomfortable” you respond, giving him your usual smile, trying to mask the fact you feel as if you’re on fire under his gaze, & he seems to notice.

“don’t be nervous mkay? we can obviously stop if you really don’t wanna do anything we don't need to." he replies, brushing the hair out of your face as his calloused hand places itself on your naked thigh.

"I know channie, wanna do it" you speak, your voice sweet as you then pucker your lips for him to give you a kiss.

"Good, my angel, I'm so glad," Chan coos softly, his thumb caressing your thigh in soothing circles. "You're being so good for me, so perfect, i love you.”

He leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips with a peck as his other hand trails up your side, fingertips dancing along your skin. "You're so beautiful, y/n. I just want to take care of you, make you feel so good."

Picking up the wand vibrator, he turns it on to a low setting, the soft hum filling the air as he brings it closer to your aching, soaked pussy. "Look at you, so wet and desperate for me," he murmurs, eyes drinking in the sight. "I'm going to make you feel so amazing, princess. Just keep looking at yourself in the mirror, okay? I want you to see how gorgeous you are when you come undone for me."

you blush at his words as you feel the vibrator inching closer towards your cunt which is clenching around nothing & you lean back into his frame, your eyes scrunching closed.

"Ah ah, eyes open, angel," Chan gently chides, bringing the vibrator to your swollen clit and eliciting a gasp from your lips. "That's it, keep looking. I want to see your pretty face as you come for me." He purrs as he nudges your face to look at the floor to ceiling mirror He applies more pressure, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure through your body. His free hand caresses your thigh soothingly, his voice a soft murmur.

He increases the speed of the vibrator, the wet sounds of your soaked pussy filling the room. "That's it, let go for me, princess. You're being so good, I'm so proud of you."

your legs try to shut themselves from the overwhelming feeling but are stopped by the spreader bar forcing them open, your toes curling at the sensation of the vibrator shooting up your spine as you let out a groan. “Channie, so much” you whimper, forcing your eyes open but still avoiding the mirror in front of you both.

"Shh, it's okay babe" Chan soothes, his voice dripping with adoration. "Just let go, I've got you." he increases the pressure and speed of the vibrator, pushing a desperate mewl from your lips.

"Look at you, taking it all so beautifully. Your pretty pussy is so soaked for me." He leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your burning cheek. "I know it's a lot, but you're doing so well, angel. I'm so proud of you."

He glances up, catching your gaze in the mirror & he lets out a teasing but pretty smirk & satisfied hum as he pushes the button the vibrator & you instantly the vibrations intensify, sending you barrelling towards the edge as Chan murmurs endless praises and encouragement.

“g-gonna cum channie” your stutter as your hips buck under the vibrator, your eyebrows furrowing together as you then focus on his face, Chan sitting right behind you, you sitting in between his legs & his face resting on your shoulder.

"That's it, angel, let go," Chan coos, his voice thick with desire. "Be a good girl and come for me. I want to see it all."

He presses the vibrator harder against your throbbing clit, the ‘schlacking’ sounds of your soaked pussy spurring him on. He nuzzles your neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your flushed skin.

"Look at yourself, y/n. See how beautiful you are when you let go?" His eyes lock onto yours in the mirror, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Come for me, princess. I want to watch you fall apart."

The vibrations ring in your head, sending you hurtling over the edge. Your back arches, your thighs trembling as wave after wave of pleasure crashes through you.

"That's it, good girl," Chan praises, his voice dripping with adoration. "You're doing so amazing, letting me see how gorgeous you are."

You try look at him through the reflection, not paying much attention to your own core being abused by the vibrator at almost maximum speed & your toes curl from the pleasure & before you can spew any words out, your orgasm gushes from you, my squirt soaking onto wooden bedroom floor as you let out a squeal, your body lurching forwards.

Chan's eyes light up with delight as your orgasm overtakes you, your squirt gushing out and soaking the laminated floor.

"Yes, that's it" he exclaims, his voice laced with awe. "Look at you, so beautiful, aren’t you?” he questions, knowing the chance of you replying is slim to none.

"I'm so proud of you, y/n," he murmurs, pressing soft kisses along your jaw. "You took that so well, didn't you? Such a good girl."

He gazes at you through the mirror, his expression adoring. "I could watch you come undone like this all day. You're absolutely mesmerizing." he purrs, pecking your cheek with his puffy lips & you lean into the touch.

Slowly, he reduces the intensity of the vibrator, allowing you to come down from your high. His touch remains gentle & soothing.

“do wan’you to see me, ‘ts aw-awkaward- want your fingers channie” you blabber the words, your hands gripping into his thick thighs, breathing heavily as your muscles are all clenching uncontrollably, your pussy dripping wetness onto the floor, collecting with your orgasm.

"Don’t be so silly, never awkward," Chan soothes, his voice dripping with adoration. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

He shifts the vibrator to the side, slowly dragging his fingers through your soaked folds. "Is this what you want, princess? My fingers deep inside that pretty pussy of yours?"

Pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, he murmurs, "You can have whatever you need, hunny, just let me take care of you."

Slowly, he sinks two digits into your quivering heat, curling them to hit that sensitive spot. "That's it, angel. Feel how perfectly you grip me? You're doing so well."

His free hand gently guides your chin, coaxing you to meet his gaze in the mirror. "Look at yourself, y/n, how can you not fawn over yourself?” he groans in your ear, his voice deep.

He picks up the pace, his fingers relentlessly stroking your most sensitive areas. "Come for me again, princess. I want to watch you fall apart."

You physically quiver as you feel his thick digits fill your already soaked hole, a small squelch noise being heard & that paired with the feeling of the vibrator now hitting your sweet spot on your inner thigh makes you squeak & your fingers tighten around his thighs, nails digging into his flesh covered by his sweatpants. “so s-sweet channie, feels so good, fuck” you whine, basking in the feeling of his fingers.

"That's it, my sweet angel, take it all," Chan croons, his voice thick with arousal. The sounds of your soaked pussy gripping his fingers only spur him on further.

He increases the pace, his fingers relentlessly stroking your most sensitive areas. "You feel so perfect around me, y/n. So hot and wet, just begging to be filled."

Pressing the vibrator firmly against your clit, he begins to work you towards another mind-shattering orgasm. "Come on, babe, let go for me again. I want to watch you fall apart."

His free hand caresses your trembling thighs, offering soothing touches. "You're being so good, taking it all so beautifully. I'm so proud of you, my gorgeous girl."

The sensations build in your lower tummy & the combined stimulation is quickly overwhelming your senses. "That's it, let it go. You're doing amazing, princess. I've got you."

you start to fall into a different floaty space that not just you but Chan loves so so much & your head rolls to look back in the mirror in front of the both of you, your eyes switching from my now swollen cunt filled with his thick fingers to his face, his own face looking fucked out as if he is the one receiving pleasure & you let out a guttural moan, clenching around his fingers as the vibrator is making you feel as if your skin is on fire. “C-close channie, g-feel like ima sq-fuck, squirt.”

Chan's eyes darken with lust as he watches your expression shift, a look of pure ecstasy washing over your features. "That's it, my angel, let go for me," he breathes, his voice thick with lust.

He curls his fingers inside you, stroking that sweet spot relentlessly. The vibrator hums against your swollen clit, sending you careening towards the edge.

His gaze is locked on yours in the mirror, drinking in every twitch and flutter of your expression. "You're being so good, taking it all so beautifully. I'm so proud of you, princess."

The sensations build to a new height as your muscles tensing as the pressure builds. With a guttural cry, you let go, your release gushing out and soaking Chan's hand and the sheets beneath you.

"Fuck, that's it, that’s a big one isn’t it?" he exclaims, his voice laced with awe. "You're so perfect, my love. So gorgeous when you come undone for me."

He works you through the aftershocks, murmuring endless praises and adoration. His touch remains gentle, soothing you as the waves of pleasure slowly subside.

Chan is quick to unlatch the spreader bar from your legs & they instantly shut from overstimulation & he can’t help but chuckle a bit as he picks you up & puts you on the bed & grabs the water that you had both set on the bedside table before the scene began.

“You can stay floaty for a while but then you need to come back to me mkay?” he says, not really expecting a response as he brushes the now wet with sweat hair from your face & then nuzzles into you for a cuddle, his cock softening after his own orgasm sprayed into his sweat pants ten minutes ago.

->A/N: im posting this over a week early because i am testing out a new writing style since i feel as if i dont use enough speech in my writing, so i need to see how well this does & depending on how well it does, i can adjust my writing to this style from now on!💛

->Taglist & anon list are open!

@jisungml @ionlyeverwantedtobeyourequal @kissesmellow21 @lixies-favorite-cookie @keshet2k @mikaelless @minniesverse @missystay

(if your name is NOT in grey, it means i couldn’t tag you :( )

[flkwh0re]

Guilty Pleasure

Warnings: Mommy kink, Degrading, Praising, Use of the word "slut”, Strap-on usage (R receiving), Overstimulation (Kinda), Dumbification, After care

Word Count: 1,562

Authors Note: You have to imagine pre-death, endgame Natasha for this because that's who I thought of. (totally not my girlfriend who's totally not the one that made me wanna write this.)

Your sex life with Natasha was very vanilla, sickeningly vanilla. Hours of fantasies of woman had curated in your head over the span of your relationship with her. You knew if you brought it up with her she wouldn't judge you at all for wanting to spice things up, but still something had stopped you time and time again, when it came to talking to her about the matter.

Today you determined to talk with her, you made her favorite meal, set the table oh so beautifully, dressed up, and then it led you to where you sat now. All dolled up at the dining table waiting for your wife to return home from a days work as an Avenger.

As thoughts of the woman filled your mind, they were interrupted by the sound of keys fumbling with the lock. "Sweetheart, I'm home!" Natasha shouted as she stepped through the door, her tone going softer as she noticed your presence at the table. "Well hello, sweet girl. What's all this?" She giggled.

"I made your favorite food Natty." You said cheerfully, as you stood to greet your wife with a kiss. "Did you murder someone?" She asked half jokingly. "No I only wanted to treat you." You lied. "That's very sweet of you dear, thank you." She placed a soft kiss on your lips, before walking off to take her shoes off.

"Let me go change into some comfier clothes, then I'll be right back." She said, earning a small nod of your head from you. You nervously made your way back to the table, sitting down, and making sure everything was perfect in the process.

"I'm back!" Nat walked in, a tight black shirt hugging her body perfectly, along with her grey sweatpants, causing you to lick your lips discreetly.

"Baby, this food is wonderful, but I have to ask... is there some special occasion I'm missing?" Natasha asked with the raise of her brow. "No, I actually just wanted to discuss something with you." Natasha's expression seemed to have a little worry, which you quickly shut that down.

"I've been thinking a lot recently, about you, us. I-" You paused for a moment, trying to find the words as to not seem so desperate even though you very much were. "I've been wanting to spice up our sex life recently. I know that sounds really stupid, because I love what you give me and I don't want to seem like I'm not satisfied with you, I just want to try new things." You rambled on before Natasha stopped you.

"Baby, that's it's not stupid. I've been thinking the same. Though I didn't have plans to make such a big amazing meal to ask." She joked, making you laugh. "Why don't we try tonight? Tell me what you want baby." Blush crept on your cheeks as you thought back to all the things you've thought about.

"Well, I've really wanted to try out that strap we bought, and I don't want to be gentle all the time. I want you to be rougher with me, and... I think I want to call you mommy." A small groan came from Natasha at your confession. "I also want you to use harsher names for me, degrading words."

Without saying a word, Natasha tore you from your seat and brought you to your room. She pushed you back onto the bed, her lips colliding with yours. Your tongue tangled with her, and your hands found place in her hair. "Are you sure you want this? I want you to feel comfortable with me." You nod, "Please Nat, I need this."

She smirked, "Is that what you call me?" Your expression was one of confusion, until you got what she meant. "Mommy.." Natasha smiled, "What a smart girl you are."

She removed herself from the spot on top of you, rummaging around for the strap she'd kept stored for so long. "Take off your clothes while I get this on, sweetheart." The name Nat had used on you many of times, now felt completely different.

Once your clothes were off you waited patiently at the edge of the bed for Natasha to attach the harness to her hips. "There we go, can you lay back for mommy, baby?" You scooted your body back as you laid down for her.

Her soft hands gripped your thighs spreading them apart. "God you're so wet, all this just from telling me about your fantasies. Why don't you tell me more pretty girl?" You felt embarrassed to admit something that you'd found a guilty pleasure in doing, but to be honest the embarrassment made you all the more excited.

"I like thinking about being on top of you, struggling to keep getting myself off on you without your help. Or having you tell me to keep taking you." Natasha tugged her lip between her teeth, concealing the moan she almost let escape, because of your confession.

"My god, who knew my wife was such a slut." She said, watching closely for your reaction to the word. Your face was a mix of shock and enjoyment, the whimper that came from you told her all she needed to know.

"Let mommy fuck this pretty, wet pussy." Her lips connected with yours, as the tip of the toy collided with your pussy. She slowly slipped it in you, as to not hurt you. Though it didn't really matter, you'd not be spared from her upcoming assault.

Small whimpers came from you as she stretched you out. "Mommy, it hurts." Your hands hastily gripped onto her shoulders, "Shh take it like a good girl, can you do that for mommy?" You nod.

Natasha's pace quickly fastened, her hips snapping against yours. You weren't sure how long you'd be able to hold your orgasm due to the pleasure you were feeling. "M-mommy, it feels s'good." Natasha smiled at your messy pronunciation of such simple words. "Keep that pretty little mouth shut, let me do all the work. Don't you think a thought unless it's about me."

After a while of your current acts, Natasha knew you were close. "Don't cum yet, hold it." You whined, "Mm I can't, feels s'good." Suddenly you were flipped to where you sat upon Natasha's lap, her hands resting on your hips.

"If you're gonna act like a needy little slut, you're gonna have to earn to cum like one." Your puzzled, disappointed eyes almost made Nat give in. "Cmon get to work."

Your weak legs tried their best to lift your body, trying your hardest to get your high. Natasha's lips came in contact with your neck, licking and sucking tender spots. leaving small purple blemishes on your skin.

Her tongue grazed your hardened nipples softly, before sucking harshly on the bud. Your nails dug into her shoulders, and your head lolled next to hers. Your lips parted next to her, small whimpers and gasp filled her ears.

"Cmon baby you can do better than this, can't you? Or are you such a dumbed down whore that you need mommy to take control, hm?" Her words honestly made you even more dumb, you couldn't even respond but just moan. "That's not an answer, if you want something you have to use your words baby."

After a bit, you were able to gather the strength to get more than just whimpers out. "Pl-please, mommy. I need you, can't cum without mommy." She smiled, "What a good girl you are! Now relax baby, let mommy take over." Her thrust up into you filled a much needed gap of pleasure, and your struggled finally paid off.

It didn't take much effort to finally get you to cum, and when you did it was like no orgasm before. You felt as if you were floating on clouds, and that you could reach out and grab the stars that blurred your vision.

Before you knew it, you were waking up to Natasha running a hot bath for you. "Hey sweetheart, how are you feeling?" She asked as she pushed your ruffled, sweaty hair off your forehead. "'M tired." You said honestly.

"Well let me get you all cleaned up, then we'll get you into bed." She said as she gently scooped you up and carried you to the warm bath, which consisted of Natasha washing your hair for you which you loved, her gently cleaning your sweat slicked body with a soft cloth and your favorite soap.

She helped hold you steady as she got you out of the tub, and got you fresh new pajamas on. "There we go sweetheart, now let's get you into bed."

She laid down, then pulled you into her arms. Wrapping them gently around your tired body, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. Your head shifted down to play upon her chest, the sound of her heart beat relaxing you even more.

"You did so good for me sweet girl." She whispered softly to you. "Thank you, mommy." She smiled at you still using the titled for her, which she was sure you weren't even aware you had used it, and you weren't.

Not before long, you had dozed off. Natasha gently rubbed your back as she watched, whatever she had playing on the tv. The acts of earlier replaying through her mind.

MASTERLIST

[sharky-teeth]

top dean/bottom sam fics that perfectly exemplify why bottom sam is the best (the list got kind of super long because i'm just too passionate about this topic):

take the things you love by hathfrozen: i think everybody and their grandma knows this one but i had to include it, this is our gospel. literally changed my life.

mommy dearest by tradwifesam: if you don't like feminization, read this and see the vision.

Softly, as a morning sunrise by LaughableLament: one of my go-to authors for fun and short PWPs.

Noise Complaint by formalizing: a lesson on how to make a thousand words count!

Coast On Through by philalethia: this actually contains switching, but when i tell you it has some of the best samdean scenes ever...

Feel About the Same Most Every Day: pining that you can feel in your bones.

Like a Machine by ani_coolgirl: camboy!sam perfection.

Untouchable for Life by Sintari: another one for my camboy!sam enthusiasts.

Undertow by Molly: starts out angsty and ends with psychic sex vibes, what's not to love?

Birthday Boy by DickBaggins: sam's ass is dean's birthday present, need i say more?

Keeping it Clean by themegalosaurus: swesson filth <3

this thing, for which we break by orbiting_saturn: intense and intimate, as PWP as it comes.

Sweltering by WhoopsOK: brothers with benefits done right. slutty sam as a treat!

weecest:

With A Bit Of Spit And Luck by elsi: in my top 5 weecest of all time, which is saying something because the competition is crazy.

Bulletproof by road_rhythm: gunplay! incredible characterization, if you have a kink for guilty dean who's unable to stop himself, and pushy sammy, this is the one.

Heart of Worms by Ninni: very moody, and beautifully written.

Petulant by formalizing: another short read that hits all the right spots and leaves you wanting more.

and all is right in Dean's world by ladygizarme: loved dean's characterization here, he left me feeling unsettled.

for those like me who need some jokes with your p*rn:

The Koala Conundrum by De_Nugis: (mentions of switching) to this day, one of the most unique & refreshing stories i've read, an absolute masterpiece.

the one with aphrodisiac: this one managed to be hilarious and hot in equal measure, an amazing feat.

Incidentally, It Was Christmas by ani_coolgirl: one of my favorite fics of the year! ani's humor is impeccable! if you also believe in the sam-sexual dean truth, this is a must read.

Tongue-Tied by ADeedWithoutaName: cursed!dean unable to speak, and sam speaking for both of them, you know where this goes...

Dicks in a Box by fictionallemons: buried alive and how do sam and dean decide to spend their time? it ain't cuddling!

Versatile, Tender and Delicious by themegalosaurus: improper use of a zucchini. read and find out.

for my omega sam lovers:

Five Weeks & its sequel Three Weeks Too Late by rei_c: probably my favorite wincest a/b/o of all time! i could've read 100k of this universe, loved the details put into it.

A Blind Fool's Luck by hellhoundsprey: this is also a favorite! i remember the tension in this fic had me dizzy. this author has an incredible way with descriptions, vivid and unique writing style.

Phantom Pain by hellhoundsprey: weecest! love their dynamic here so much, great blending of a/b/o traits while keeping them in character.

Clover by hellhoundsprey: perfectly done late seasons getting together! with the right amount of schmoop. clearly this author is very dear to me lol

know the feeling by sammyatstanford: this is the longest work in this list, around 40k words, and so worth it! really enjoyed the worldbuilding.

now to my favorite flavor (bottom sam with a side of delicious angst):

Lesser Evils by Dyed_Red: [non-con] not for everyone, but definitely for me. if you love samdean at odds and suffering, this will push all the right buttons. life-changing fic.

Is It Tomorrow (Or Just the End of Time) by elsi: the angst here is so glorious. from beginning to end it's angst, angst, then more angst. there is no resolution to their issues, and i love that.

Collision Course by lovetincture: one of the most believable first time stories i've read, spot on characterization and raw descriptions. didn't shy away from the ugly side of incest.

You can run away with me any time you want by Trojie: sam leaving for stanford fic! oh this one hurts like a motherfucker. there's a line in here that's so beautiful, it lives in my brain.

his skin barely keeping him inside by hathfrozen: another banger by hathfrozen, i have a weak spot for first time in a long time stories.

No such thing as Forgiveness by hellhoundsprey: lawyer!sam getting his life sent off track when big brother comes back to the picture... the unhealthy dynamic here is to die for.

Blood sacrifice sex magic type of thing by Goshen: sam performing ritual sex to cure his demon brother... as he should.

Worship Not These False Idols by killabeez: ruby fucking sam while pretending to be dean. as amazing as it sounds.

Circles of Light by WhoopsOK: there is a "Magical Healing Ass" tag. enough said

end of list! i tried to only include works with less than 10k hits here, so someone might find something they haven't read before. i didn't include warnings, so definitely check out the tags first. all these fics are seriously amazing, i hope more people will read these gems <3

[olliethescribe]

My gods, Sofia - these are absolutely beautiful. You captured these scenes perfectly, especially Leo letting it all out. If we could eat your art, we would. We’re gonna treasure these 💖

oh, baby blue

made a little art for my dear friend @olliethescribe ’s latest chapter of Only Brooches <3

Ron being a good mentor/uncle/father figure and Leo opening up and trusting someone with his troubles my beloved