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#and it’s not like i was making an effort to talk to most of these people i sought after
driverlando · 3 days
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✧.* THE FAN DIARIES
synopsis- in which nothing escapes the eyes of the devoted (Oscar Piastri x f!reader)
before you continue: I hope you enjoy this new smau series where I delve into stories from fans about the couples throughout the years!! it’s been so fun <3
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
✧.* 2022- boyfriend and girlfriend
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✧.* 2023- boyfriend and girlfriend
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✧.* 2024-boyfriend and girlfriend
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✧.* 2026- engaged
Formula 1 Star Oscar Piastri Engaged to Supermodel Y/N Y/L/N? Fans Spot a Ring in Public!
By: Sasha, Rumour Radar
In the fast-paced world of Formula 1, it’s not unusual for drivers to make headlines both on and off the track. But when it comes to Oscar Piastri, the young McLaren driver known for his cool demeanour and precise driving, the latest buzz isn’t about his lap times—it’s about his love life.
Over the weekend, Piastri was spotted in a casual but intimate moment with none other than international supermodel Y/N Y/L/N, setting the rumour mill ablaze with speculation that the two are secretly engaged. The couple, who have been dating since 2022 and have been notoriously private about their relationship, were seen shopping together at a quaint boutique in Monaco, sparking a flurry of excitement among fans.
The sighting was innocent enough: Oscar and Y/N, both dressed in laid-back summer attire, were browsing through a selection of home goods. Witnesses described them as "completely at ease," sharing laughs as they picked out items for what appeared to be a shared living space. But it wasn’t the domesticity of their outing that caught fans’ attention—it was the sparkling ring adorning Y/N’s left hand.
Eagle-eyed fans quickly took to social media, sharing photos and videos of the couple from the outing. The ring in question, a delicate but undeniably stunning diamond set in a simple band, has led many to believe that the pair might be engaged.
"Did anyone else see that rock on Y/N’s finger?!" one fan tweeted, alongside a blurry but revealing image of the couple holding hands. "Oscar and Y/N engaged?? This is HUGE!"
While neither Oscar nor Y/N have confirmed or denied the engagement rumours, the speculation has only grown stronger. Some fans have pointed out that the couple has been spending more time together in recent months, often seen in each other’s company at high-profile events, as well as more low-key, everyday outings like this one.
"It's not just the ring," another fan commented in a viral TikTok video analysing the couple's body language. "They look so comfortable together, like they've moved past just dating and are really solidifying their relationship. I wouldn't be surprised if they were already planning a wedding!"
Despite their best efforts to keep their romance under wraps, Oscar and Y/N have become one of the most talked-about couples in the world of sports and fashion. The Australian F1 prodigy and the glamorous supermodel have been linked since early 2022, though they've kept their relationship out of the limelight, only occasionally giving fans glimpses into their private lives.
The rumour of their engagement isn’t the first time the pair has sparked speculation. Last December, they were photographed together on a secluded beach getaway in the Maldives, fuelling rumours of a blossoming romance. And earlier this year, Y/N was spotted cheering Oscar on from the McLaren paddock during the Monaco Grand Prix, further solidifying her status as his number one fan.
For now, Oscar and Y/N have remained tight-lipped about the swirling engagement rumours, leaving fans to speculate and hope for a confirmation. But if the ring on Y/N’s finger is anything to go by, it seems the couple might just be ready to take their relationship to the next level.
As the Formula 1 season continues to heat up, so too does the curiosity surrounding one of its rising stars. Whether or not the engagement rumours are true, one thing is certain: all eyes will be on Oscar Piastri and Y/N Y/L/N as they navigate life both on and off the track.
Stay tuned to Rumour Radar for the latest updates on this unfolding story and more celebrity gossip.
✧.* 2028 - husband and wife
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✧.* 2030- parents
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fwb Art who's absolutely in love with you and obsessed with you and who asked to be your boyfriend many times and taking you on many dates but you kept rejecting until one day he gets to know that you're going on a date with someone else so he tries to stop thay date from happening and showing you who you belong to by having the most passionate sex and finally convincing you to accept you as your boyfriend
you can say you don't want this to be Stanford Art but it is.
You've turned him down so many times. But you can't stay away from him. The way he kisses you, the way he touches you. You're needy for him but you know that you can't be in a relationship with him. He's not good for you, not good for you to be distracted. You're not exactly the dating type and Art is almost ready to be a husband. All your friends think you're insane, you know that they're ready to settle down but we're too young and you want to be carefree for just a while. Art is also so very nice, and sweet and kind and you don't want to hurt him when you inevitable self destruct. You rationalise it to protect yourself, it would be like torturing a puppy. You don't want to waste his time and effort. You're doing this for him.
But you can't keep yourself away from Art. You always end up at his door at the end of the night, and he's so obsessed with you, he'll never tell you no. He just makes you cups of tea and cuddles you and keeps you warm. Giving you everything that you want, whenever you want it. "We're just friends with benefits." You tell him and repeat to yourself and Art nods his head as if to say "i know." He invites you to the bar with him, says Patrick and his new girlfriend will be there but they always seem to mysteriously cancel. Patrick was either the worst friend or just didn't exist. "This is not a date Art." He gets you both drinks. He gives you the "i know" nod, slightly hurt, given you a face, slightly like you've stood on a puppys paw. Art asks to be your boyfriend a lot. And you know that you should cut him off and let him go but you can't help yourself. It's like you and Art are magnets or somehow cosmetically intertwined.
Art walks up to you and your friends standing talking. It kills him because he wants to wrap his hands around you like he did in his bed last night. But because you're just fuck buddies, he can't kiss you. He's not even sure if your friends know that you've been seeing each other for the last while. You try to ignore him as you're continuing the conversation as one of your friends starts speaking to him. "Do you know where youre going? and more importantly, what are you wearing?"
Art's ears perk up at the conversation and you try and ignore him again. "I think we're just going for drinks, nothing special." You say softly. "and then back to his? I'm so jealous, he's so fucking hot. I can't believe he just asked you out." You tried to hold back a wince when she said it. You didn't mean for Art to find out about it, at all. Definitely didn't want him to find out like this. He didn't say anything. You didn't want to look at him and you didn't know when he was looking at you. "You should wear that black dress you wore a few weeks ago... and those boots, you'd look so hot!" Your friend continued but you had already withdrawn from the conversation. You knew that outfit worked because Art wanted to take you to the nearest empty room when he saw you wearing it. "I'll text you later, let you know how it goes." You left the conversation. Art stood, making small talk with your friends.
It was around half past 8 when you were getting ready. You were stupidly nervous. You didn't really go on dates, especially with people you didn't know. And you hadn't heard from Art all day long which made you nervous. You didn't want to hurt Art, you didn't know if Art was hurt. He was sensitive so you could only assume that he was sulking in his room. There was a knock at your door as finished fixing your make up. You looked at yourself in the mirror before answering the door. "Hi Art, what are you doing here?" He looked at your face for a moment before letting your eyes gaze over your body. Your curvy hips and cleavage was on show, dress hitting just above your thighs. Art thought you looked perfect. "Are you not going to invite me in?" Art smiled at you. "uhh... actually I'm just getting ready to go out." You were confused. Had he not heard the conversation earlier? You watched him as he followed you into your room. "Yeah, I know... I just thought I could convince you to stay here." He was being very confident, somewhat dominant which he normally isn't it. "Art, cmon." He sat on the bed as he watched you putting your earring in. "Cmon what?" You stood in front of him as he ran his hands on the outside of your thigh. "tell me, you don't want to cancel on him and stay here with me." You were biting your lip as he touched your thighs. "Art..." His hands rubbed up your body to your hips as he pulled you closer, separating his legs, allowing you to stand in between them.
He starts by kissing your stomach. He looks up at you as he pulls your dress up your thighs slowly, his kiss moving slowly down your body. "You know he can't make you feel as good as I can..." he continued to kiss down your body before placing his kiss on your underwear. Your hands were in his hair, rubbing his head, encouragingly. He started to pull you down your underwear as he guided you to the bed. "Art, he's going to be here soon." He just smiled as he started kissing your neck and his hands started rubbing your clit, dipping his fingers into you as you moan against him. "Good, he can hear how good I make you feel." He started to bite at your collar bone, trying to leave a mark. "Artttt..." you almost moaned. "Thats it, say my name, say who you belong to." He moved his fingers faster until you were begging for him to fuck you. Art was really playing a very good game, making you moan, making you a mess underneath him. "You're so good." He swiftly moved his boxers down and allowed his cock to bounce free as he rubbed it against your wetness. He started to push himself inside of you, inch by inch as you moaned. He kissed your mouth, passionately before moving his kiss back to your neck, down to your chest where he pulled your dress down so your breasts were exposed. He started sucking, licking and biting on your nipples as he slammed into you. "Art, fuck I'm gonna cum." You moaned as he quickened his pace. "That's it, good girl, cum on my cock, cum for me, you're all mines." He moaned as he switched between kissing you and playing with your nipples. "you're so good, fuck, you feel so good." He couldn't stop as he started to fill you the second you let your orgasm go. He continued to kiss you and move the hair out of your face. "You're literally so gorgeous." He whispered in your ear as he held his cock inside of you. "when are you finally going to admit that you were made for me?" he kissed your neck. You sighed. "Art, you know..." Art kissed you again. "Don't do this, whatever your worries are about me, we can do it, together. I want you. All of you and you want me, very clearly." He kept your gaze as he held you. "It's all of me or none of me, I'm not playing seconds." The words hurt you and you got a brief moment to think about this being the last time, that the other option was no Art in your life. "I'm happy to wait." He pulled himself away and walked to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
You were alone for just a moment. You didn't want you and Art to be over. But you thought you knew how you felt, what you wanted but everything Art said and did, just made your heart hurt. You wanted him. You needed him. When you thought he was mad at you, you felt weak and now he's here. Saying it's him or nothing. You thought you had the power, always telling him no to a relationship but being faced without Art, you didn't want to do it. The thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. Shit. Your date. This was your sink of swim moment.
Art popped his head out of the bathroom. "should i hide in the bathroom or tell him to go away?" Art was topless looking down at you with just his boxer shorts on. "Tell him to go away, then take your shorts back off?" His face almost lit up. "So you're finally gonna be my girl?" You smirked at him and rolled your eyes. "I'm all yours Donaldson."
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jetii · 1 day
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A Little Fun
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Pairing: Echo x fem!Reader / Echo x Medic!Reader
Words: 16,139
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, smut, pretty much pwp let's be honest, but there is some squad family bonding/good-natured ribbing, reader is a known flirt, reader has a nickname, insecure Echo to confident Echo, return of the king (pleasure dom Echo), he talks you through it, Echo's scomp is a paid actor, brat taming?, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, vibrator play, squirting, praise kink, overstimulation, aftercare
Summary: There's something between you and Echo, but despite your best efforts, he's yet to make a move. A night out at 79s changes everything.
A/N: the most self-indulgent thing i’ve ever written. 🙈 do not perceive me
Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist
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The music is a wall of sound, a thudding rhythm so loud it's practically a physical force. There's a strobing light show that seems to be designed to make people sick to their stomachs, and the dance floor is so crowded with writhing bodies you can't tell where one person ends and another begins. You're entranced by it, drawn into the pulsing beat. It's like a heartbeat, and you swear it's calling to you, drawing you in.
It's been ages since you were out at a club like this. You never realized how much you missed it. You've spent months fighting battles on countless planets, patching up the squad after every fight, and then going back out and doing it all over again. The only thing that really makes the exhaustion worth it is the promise of something like this—the thrill of a good time, of letting loose and just enjoying yourself.
The song ends and another one takes its place. The music changes, but the crowd doesn't. Everyone on the floor keeps dancing, and you keep right on with them.
You don't know how long you're out there, but after a while you're starting to get worn down. You slip away from a pair of hands around your waist, leaving a trail of apologies in your wake, and head off the floor. There's a booth in the corner of the first floor that the squad has commandeered, a rare commodity at 79s, and you stumble towards it.
You've had enough drinks that you're pleasantly buzzed, and you've lost count of the number of people you've danced with. It's made your body feel alive and hot, the music's thudding beat thrumming through your skin. You haven't had this much fun in months, and for the first time in a long time, you feel free.
"Having fun?" Hunter calls out as you approach. He's sitting on one side of the round booth, next to Crosshair, who has an arm slung casually over the back. You left Wrecker out on the dance floor with a group of Twi'lek women who seem to find his bulk a source of fascination, and Tech is seated on Hunter's other side next to Echo, nursing a drink and watching the room with a passive gaze.
"Of course," you say with a laugh. "You're not?"
"Eh." Crosshair scoffs, not bothering to look over at you. His eyes are trained on the dancers out on the floor. "Not really."
"What about you, Tech?" you ask, leaning against the table and taking a sip of your drink.
"I find the entire affair rather fascinating," he says as he gestures vaguely at the crowd. "All the various forms of sentient expression are...interesting, to say the least."
"And what do you think of my form of expression, Tech?" you ask playfully, putting your hand over your heart and giving him a flirty smile. You take a seat at the end of the booth and lean closer.
Tech, ever immune to your antics, doesn't miss a beat.
"You appear to be expending a lot of energy on a relatively simple activity. However, the results do seem to be pleasing to you."
"What he's trying to say is, you look like you're having a good time," Echo supplies. He has his chin propped on his hand, but he's smiling at you, clearly amused. You meet his gaze and grin back.
"I am having a good time," you confirm. "How about you?"
"It's not exactly my scene," he says, and he gives a shrug. "But I can see why you'd enjoy it."
"If you change your mind and want to dance, just let me know," you tell him. "You know, since I'm already expending all this energy."
"Maybe later," he says.
His smile softens, and you're a little surprised to see it. The last few months have been hard on Echo, and you can count on one hand the number of times you've seen him smile like that. He's been working through a lot of guilt and self-loathing, and seeing him smile, even if it's small, is a nice change. It's good to see him loosening up a bit.
"I'll hold you to that," you tell him, and Echo grins and leans back.
"Are you sure you don't want to come out on the dance floor, Tech?" you ask, glancing over at him.
Tech shakes his head. "I prefer not to dance."
"What about you two? Not planning on getting out there?"
"I would sooner stick my hand in a rocket booster than step foot on that dance floor," Crosshair says without looking away from the crowd.
Hunter nods, and he gestures with his bottle. "That goes for me, too."
"Bunch of party poopers," you mutter and take a drink. "You should be ashamed of yourselves."
“There‘s no shortage of people willing to dance with you," Crosshair says, still staring at the crowd, and you can hear the teasing lilt in his voice. "No need to bother with us."
"We wouldn't want to deprive the galaxy of your...talents," Tech says.
"Very funny." You take a long drink and let the conversation drop.
"So," Hunter starts after a long silence. His eyes flicker to Echo and back to you, and he raises a brow. "How many people did you have to beat off with a stick on the dance floor?"
"Not too many," you say. "Only a few."
"Only a few, huh?" Crosshair asks. He sounds skeptical.
"Cross, don't act like you weren't counting every guy I danced with," you retort, and when he doesn't immediately respond, you grin and lean forward, bracing your elbows on the table. "See? Knew it."
"Don't flatter yourself," he says. "I was bored. Had nothing better to do."
"Yeah, yeah," you say, rolling your eyes. "Whatever you say. Don’t worry, none of them are worth mentioning."
“What about that guy who was talking to you earlier?" Echo asks, and he nods over to a spot near the bar. "I saw him buy you a drink. Didn't look like nothing."
"Who, that Mirialan?" You wave a dismissive hand. "Nah, he was cute, but not really my type.”
Echo gives a low hum of acknowledgement, his eyes never leaving yours, and you feel a strange thrill at the attention. You've always loved the way he looks at you. There's something about his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat, something warm and knowing and inviting. You’ve caught him looking at you like this plenty of times before, but tonight feels different. It feels almost daring. You sit up straighter and turn toward him.
"And what is your type?" he asks. There's an edge of seriousness to his question, and you consider him for a moment, watching him watch you.
"I like someone who can keep up with me," you say finally, and then, with a playful smile, add, "You know, someone with stamina."
Echo laughs a quiet, low chuckle, and your chest tightens. His laugh is a rare and beautiful thing, and you feel a thrill when you hear it.
"Stamina," he repeats, his voice soft and warm. There's a dazed look in his eye, and he blinks it away and meets your gaze again. “Right.”
The conversation is interrupted when Wrecker comes back to the table, panting and laughing, clearly out of breath. There's a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his cheeks are flushed, but he looks thrilled. He drops into the booth next to you, and the motion shoves you closer to Echo. You feel his leg brush yours under the table, and the sudden touch sends a warm spark shooting up your spine.
"This is great!" he shouts over the music. "Why don't we go out more?"
"Because our lives are a shitshow," Crosshair deadpans, finally turning to look at the rest of the squad.
Wrecker lets out a hearty laugh, and reaches across the table to give Crosshair a good-natured smack on the shoulder. "Ah, don't be so gloomy!"
"I'm not being gloomy, I'm being realistic," Crosshair replies with a scowl, but he softens a bit when Wrecker pulls back and settles into the booth, his arm slung over the back behind you.
"Oh, don't listen to him," Wrecker says. He's turned towards you now, and his arm is pressing against the back of your shoulders. "We should go out more often. You're a great dancer, y'know that?"
"You're not so bad yourself,” you say with a grin. “You're pretty light on your feet for someone so big."
Wrecker lets out a loud, barking laugh, pulling his arm out from behind you to slap his knee. His laugh is infectious, and you can't help but laugh along.
"You hear that, Cross?" he says. "I'm light on my feet."
"You're a regular acrobat," Crosshair drawls, his tone flat, but the hint of a smile plays at his lips.
"See, you're in a good mood!" Wrecker says, his smile growing. He takes a long pull from his drink, and then sets the glass down on the table, turning back to you. “Let’s go back out there! You and me, we'll show these losers how it's done."
"I need a break," you say, holding up a hand to stop him. "Sorry, Wrecker. Maybe later."
"Aw, alright," he says. He's still grinning, and he claps you on the shoulder with a bit more force than necessary. Your body rocks to the side, and you let out a breathless laugh as Echo puts a steadying hand on your arm.
"Easy there," Echo warns. His fingers linger on your forearm, and you can't help the thrill that rushes through you. You meet his gaze, and the corners of his mouth twitch.
"Thanks,” you say, and offer him a small smile.
Echo doesn't say anything. He just smiles back and pulls away, lifting his drink to his lips.
The conversation moves on, but you're barely paying attention to anything other than the feeling of Echo's leg against yours, the heat of his body, the lingering feeling of his hand on your arm. The touch was casual, friendly, but there's a part of you that wants to reach out and take his hand. It's been a while since you've gone dancing, and it's been longer since you've had any kind of physical intimacy, and a small, desperate part of you wants that contact. Especially if it’s Echo.
You steal a glance at him and find him looking back at you. His gaze is focused, a bit calculating, like he's trying to puzzle you out, and there’s a faint flush high on his cheeks. You raise an eyebrow at him, and his lips curl into a small smile. The two of you share a long look, and you wonder if he's thinking the same thing as you are.
"I'm gonna head back out," Wrecker says, and the words snap you out of your trance. He's standing next to the booth now, his drink empty, his hands splayed out on the table. "You guys should come out there with me. Stitches, c’mon!”
"I told you, I need a break," you say, a teasing smile playing at your lips. "Why don't you take Hunter? He was just saying how much he wanted to dance.”
"No," Hunter says immediately, shooting you a warning look. "Absolutely not."
"Yes!" Wrecker exclaims. 
The small smirk on Crosshair’s face spreads into a full on grin as he stands from the booth, pulling a grumbling Hunter up with him. He pushes him into Wrecker’s awaiting arms, and Wrecker gives a loud cheer. “Let’s go, Sarge!”
"You're a traitor," Hunter hisses, shooting you a dirty look over his shoulder as Wrecker drags him away. You give him a cheeky little wave, and he narrows his eyes.
"Have fun!" you call after him. You can hear Hunter let out a loud groan over the sound of the music, and you laugh as the pair disappears into the crowd.
Crosshair snickers and slips back into the booth, stretching out across the seat and resting his arm across the back. "Well, this’ll be entertaining."
"He'll be fine," Tech says, taking a sip of his drink before returning to his datapad. The four of you laugh a moment, and then fall into a companionable silence.
With the other two distracted, you slide closer to Echo, letting your leg press against his. You don't know if he does it on purpose or not, but he shifts and his leg presses harder against yours, a solid weight against you.
You let your eyes wander to the dance floor, where Hunter and Wrecker are dancing amongst the crowd. Hunter seems to have loosened up a tad, and his movements are more fluid, less rigid. But when he turns to look over at you, you can see the murder in his eyes. You can't help but laugh and give him another wave.
"You're cruel," Echo says, leaning in so his voice will carry over the noise, his breath warm on your cheek.
"No, I’m a genius," you reply easily.  "And an opportunist."
You turn your head back towards him, and the two of you are close—much closer than you expected. His face is only inches from yours, and he's so close that you can see the flecks of gold in his brown eyes, the stubble on his jaw, the tiny scar on his forehead.
He's looking at you the way he did earlier, and a wave of warmth runs through your body, pooling low in your belly.
"A dangerous combination,” he says. He looks down, and his lips curl into a smile.
You laugh, and his eyes dart up to meet yours. "Is that a good thing?"
Echo pauses, considering. "I guess we'll find out."
There's a tension building between the two of you, and for a moment, neither of you speak. He's studying you with that intense, focused gaze again, and your body is thrumming. You've felt this feeling before, whenever Echo looks at you like that.
He's attractive—that was an undeniable fact. And he's funny, and smart, and caring, and he's a really, really good friend. But it's the moments like this, the times when his focus is all on you, that make you wish for something more.
You don't know what exactly that something more is, but right now, you can't help but imagine his lips pressed against yours, the feeling of his fingers running through your hair, the heat of his body pressed up against yours. It's been so long since you've had any sort of contact like that, and right now, it's all you can think about.
"So," Echo says, finally breaking the silence. His voice is a low rumble. "Stamina, huh?"
You hum, nodding. "It's a requirement."
"And what other requirements are there?"
"Depends," you say with a little shrug. You find yourself leaning in a fraction, drawn to him, and he mimics the motion. You’re not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it, but the sight of him moving towards you sends a hot pulse of anticipation through you.
"On?" he asks. There's a teasing lilt in his voice, a gentle playfulness, and you can't help but smile. His eyes drop to your mouth and then flick back up to meet yours.
"Who's asking."
You watch a range of emotions flicker across his face, and then Echo leans back, the tension in the air dissipating. He takes a sip of his drink and gives you a smile. "Good to know."
He turns back to the group, and you feel the loss of his gaze like a physical thing. The conversation shifts, and Echo starts talking to Tech, and the two of them get caught up in whatever it is they're discussing.
You can't focus on the conversation. Your eyes are fixed on Echo's face, watching him. It's like something has shifted between the two of you, and you're not entirely sure what that means. It's hard to read him sometimes—he's not exactly forthcoming with his emotions, but you had thought there was a mutual attraction, an understanding.
But then, you can be wrong about these things. it wouldn’t be the first time, and now that the moment has passed, it feels like it never even happened. You move to a sip of your own drink to try to calm your racing heart before you realize it’s empty.
"I'm gonna grab a refill," you say, sliding out of the booth and turning back toward the table. You ignore Crosshair’s smirk, and ask, "Anybody want anything?"
Crosshair and Tech both shake their heads, and Echo looks up at you and smiles.
"I'll come with," he says and slides out of the booth to follow you.
You can feel the weight of Crosshair's eyes on the back of your neck as the two of you walk off. You have a feeling that the conversation will pick back up the moment you're out of earshot, and you have a strong suspicion that you know exactly what it's going to be about.
When the two of you get to the bar, Echo flags down the bartender. The two of you place your orders and wait for the droid to prepare them, and you lean against the bar, your shoulder pressed against Echo's. He glances over at you, and you give him a smile.
"You doing okay?" you ask, tilting your head towards him.
"Yeah, why?"
"I just wanted to check in," you say. You shift a bit, leaning in closer. "We've all been under a lot of stress lately. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
Echo considers your words, his brow furrowed in concentration as he looks back at you. Eventually, he seems to come to a decision, and his expression clears.
"I am," he says. "And I appreciate you checking in, but I'm fine. Really."
You nod. That's been Echo's refrain ever since he joined the Bad Batch. The squad has helped him adjust, and the new prosthetics have helped too, but you can tell it's still not easy for him. You've tried your best to support him, and the others have done the same, but there's only so much any of you can do.
"I'm glad," you say. You pause, and then, after a moment's consideration, add, "If you ever need to talk, or anything, you know where to find me."
Echo smiles and nods. “I know.”
The droid sets down your drinks, and you each grab one. For a moment, you debate whether to take them back to the table, but you can hear the sounds of shouting and laughter, and a quick glance at the crowd reveals Hunter and Wrecker stumbling back to the booth.
"Wanna stay here?" you ask, lifting your glass.
Echo looks over at the group, and then back to you. He's got that smile on his face again, and it makes your heart skip a beat.
"Sure," he says, and he hops onto one of the stools. You follow suit, sitting on the one next to him.
You sit in companionable silence for a while. You can hear the sounds of the music, of the dancers and the laughter, but the sounds seem distant, and for a moment, you and Echo are alone.
"I'm happy to see you having fun," he says, breaking the silence.
"Why's that?"
"We've been through a lot the past few months,” he answers. His voice is quiet, but the look in his eyes is steady and focused. "You deserve to have a good time."
"So do you, Echo.”
He doesn't reply, but there's a thoughtful expression on his face as he looks back out at the dance floor. His eyes are distant, and you follow his gaze with a curious tilt of your head.
"You want to get out there and dance, don't you?" you guess, a teasing grin spreading across your face.
Echo gives you a sidelong glance, and his mouth twitches in a little smile. "I told you, it's not really my scene. Not anymore, at least."
"So we'll find another way for you to have fun,” you reply as you turn on the stool to face him. You take a sip of your drink and give him a pointed look. It’s a bit forward, even for you, but the alcohol has you feeling bold, and you get the sense that Echo isn’t as put off by your flirting as he pretends to be.
The two of you lock eyes, and the moment stretches on. His eyes flit over your face, searching, and you meet his gaze, refusing to blink.
Echo rolls his eyes before ducking his head, shaking it slightly. You can see a faint blush on his cheeks, and he lets out a quiet laugh.
"Yeah, okay,” he says sarcastically, and you frown.
"You think I'm not serious?"
"No," he replies, raising his eyebrows at you. "I know you're not."
You tilt your head, studying him. He looks a mixture of amused and annoyed, but beneath that, there's something else. There's a softness to his expression, an almost pleading edge to his voice. It's a strange combination, and you're not sure how to interpret it.
"What makes you say that?"
"Because it’s you," he says, as if that explains everything.
"So?"
"So, you're..." he trails off, gesturing vaguely in your direction. You raise your eyebrows at him, and he lets out a small huff. "Look, we both know you're not really interested."
You feel a surge of annoyance. "Well, maybe I am. Why don't you give me a chance to prove it?"
Echo stares at you, his mouth set in a thin line, and for a moment, the two of you are locked in a silent stand-off. Finally, he breaks the stalemate, letting out a quiet sigh.
"What?" you ask
"Nothing," he says, shaking his head. "You're drunk."
"I am not," you protest. Your eyebrows furrow in indignation. "I've had three drinks, max. And they were light. I'm just feeling good."
"Okay, then," he says, a skeptical look on his face. "Maybe you're not drunk. But you're not exactly thinking straight, either."
You scoff. "Is anyone ever thinking straight in a place like this?"
"Very funny."
"I'm just saying, I'm serious," you insist. "I'm more than happy to have fun with you, if that's what you want."
Echo opens his mouth, and then shuts it, his lips pressed in a thin line. You've never seen him so unbalanced, and the sight fills you with a perverse sense of satisfaction.
"You're not thinking this through," he says. "You have no idea what you're offering."
"So explain it to me," you say. You set your drink down and slide closer to him, your knees brushing against the side of his leg. His eyes dart to the movement, and then back up to meet yours. There's a spark of heat in his gaze, and you can't help but smile.
"You're really—" He breaks off, his gaze dropping to your mouth, and his tongue darts out, swiping over his lips. His gaze lingers for a long moment, and you can feel the tension in the air thicken, like static electricity building just before a lightning strike.
"I'm really what?"
He lets out a frustrated sound. "You’re not making this easy.”
"Oh, please," you say, rolling your eyes. "If it was easy, it wouldn't be any fun."
"You're something else," he says, and there's an edge of frustration to his voice. He runs a hand over his face, and then looks back at you. “I’m not talking about this here.”
"Fine," you say, a little miffed. "Then come back to the ship with me, and we'll finish this conversation."
Echo lets out a long breath, his shoulders sagging. He looks torn, and you can't quite figure out what's going on in his head.
"Echo, if you're not into it, that's fine," you tell him, your voice softer. "I'm not trying to pressure you. I just wanted you to know that I'm interested."
He nods slowly, his eyes still trained on yours. There's a wariness there, and for a moment, you’re certain he's going to reject you.
Instead, he slides off the stool and takes a step forward. You turn, your legs parting of their own accord, and he moves between them. He's so close that your knees are brushing his hips, and the contact sends a spark of anticipation through you.
"Let me make this clear," he says, leaning in, and his voice is a low, raspy whisper in your ear. "You don't know what you're getting into."
"Try me."
"You really wanna go down this road?"
"Absolutely.”
There's no hesitation. You've wanted this, wanted him, for longer than you're willing to admit, and now that it's within reach, there's no way in hell you're backing down.
Echo pulls back, but he doesn’t go far. His eyes are dark, the light gold overtaken by his pupils, and a hot wave of arousal shoots through you.
"Please," you add for good measure, the word a breathless whisper.
That seems to be the last straw. Echo lets out a heavy breath, and his hand comes up, cupping the back of your head. His fingers are digging into the strands of your hair, and you can't help but tip your head back a little, letting him feel the weight of your skull in his hand. His thumb traces a soft, slow line over the nape of your neck, and you shiver at the sensation.
"This is a bad idea," he says. His words are barely a murmur, and they send a warm thrill running through you.
"Yeah," you agree. You reach up and curl a hand around the back of his neck, stroking the sensitive skin with your thumb, and his eyes flutter closed. “Come back to the ship with me.”
“Kriff,” he mutters, his voice rough. He looks back at you, his eyes searching your face, and he lets out a frustrated huff.
Echo steps back, releasing his hold on your head, and you hold your breath as you watch him. You wait for him to leave, to walk away from you, but he just reaches for his drink and finishes it, his eyes never leaving yours. When he's done, he sets the empty glass on the counter and holds his hand out.
"Let's go."
You can't help the way your face lights up at the words. You finish the last of your drink and take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. You weave through the crowd, the two of you practically joined at the hip, his hand still grasping yours tightly.
"Do you want to let the others know we're leaving?"
"Nah," Echo says. He doesn't turn to look at you, his eyes fixed ahead as he pulls you along. "They're too busy having a good time."
"But—"
"Stitches.”
He glances over his shoulder, giving you a sharp look. The intensity in his gaze, the hunger, is enough to send a rush of heat through your body, and you swallow.
"Oh," you say, the word almost a gasp. 
Echo gives you a little smile, and his hand slips away from yours. For a moment, the loss is nearly overwhelming, and then his fingers skim over your lower back. They trace a slow line down to your hip, and his hand settles there, guiding you through the crowd. The touch is light, gentle, but it's the possessiveness of it that sends a shiver up your spine.
When the two of you step through the doors and into the night air, he lets his hand slip lower, until it's resting just above the swell of your ass. You're not sure if the motion is intentional or not, but it sets a fire alight in you, and you have to resist the urge to press back against his palm or try to coax him to move lower.
You slow down. "So, uh, are we gonna—"
"Walk and talk," Echo says, cutting you off with a gentle push forward. His voice is low, and there's an authoritative edge to it that makes your knees feel weak. "The others will notice that we're gone eventually. We don't have a lot of time."
"Okay," you say, nodding. The two of you walk quickly through the city, and you're grateful for the fresh air. It clears your head a fraction, enough that the buzz of the alcohol has started to fade, and you're left with a sharp clarity.
The silence between the two of you is tense, but it's not uncomfortable. It feels charged, full of energy, and you're keenly aware of his hand on your lower back. His fingers are splayed out, his hand spanning the width of your waist, and his thumb is tracing a slow line over the fabric of your shirt.
It's driving you crazy, and you can't help the way you arch your back, pushing into the pressure. You feel his grip tighten, and you bite your lip, fighting back a moan.
Echo lets out a small chuckle. "Someone's eager."
"I thought we’ve established that already,” you reply. You let a bit of a whine slip into your voice, and when he looks over, his eyes are wide.
"Are you always like this?" he asks.
"Like what?"
"This..." he trails off, gesturing with his scomp, and his face flushes a light pink. "Teasing."
"Only when I want someone."
Echo doesn't say anything in response. He just nods and keeps walking, but you don't miss the way his grip tightens a little, or the way he starts moving faster.
The moment the two of you are through the hatch of the Marauder, Echo slams his palm on the control panel, shutting the door behind him. The ship goes dark as you stand a few feet apart, staring at each other. 
Echo leans against the wall, settling back with a considering look on his face, and he crosses his arms. He’s lit by the light coming through the window, and the pale glow makes him look otherworldly.
"Well?" you prompt, raising an eyebrow.
"Come here."
His voice is quiet, and you can barely hear him over the pounding of your heart. But the tone leaves no room for argument, and you can't help but comply. You step forward, moving slowly, and Echo's eyes track your movements. 
You stop when your shoes are a few inches from his, and you tilt your head, looking up at him. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, and it's taking every ounce of self-control not to touch him.
"What do you want from me?" he asks.
"I—"
"No," he says. His hand and scomp come up, settling on your hips, and the motion pushes the two of you together. He's so close that you can feel his breath on your face, and the warmth of his body is burning through the layers of your clothing. "Don't think about it. Tell me."
Your eyes dart down to his lips, and he doesn't miss the movement. His lips quirk upward, and his thumb rubs gentle, slow circles on the fabric of your shirt.
"I want—" you break off, hesitating, and Echo gives your hip a squeeze. The pressure is light, but it's enough to get you to focus.
"I want this. I want you," you say, the words tumbling out in a rush. You take a breath and meet his eyes. "But I want you to know that I'm not just doing this because it's convenient, or because I'm bored. I'm doing this because I like you, Echo. I have for a long time."
Echo doesn't speak, and for a moment, the only sound is the gentle hum of the ship around you. His eyes search your face, as though trying to determine if you're being truthful, and you watch as the hard edge of his expression softens, replaced by something softer, something hopeful.
"You really mean that, don't you?"
"Yeah," you reply. You feel a wave of relief at his words, and you can't help the grin that spreads across your face.
"How long?"
"I don't know," you answer honestly. You take a step closer, until there's no more space between the two of you. He doesn't move, but you can see the way his breath catches, and you can feel the way his hand tightens on your hip.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because you weren't ready," you say. You take a deep breath, and the motion makes his eyes drop to your mouth again. "I wanted to wait until you were ready. So I just want you to know, this isn’t—I mean, it's not just a fling, or anything. I want this to mean something."
"Good," he says quietly. "Me too."
You can't help the sigh of relief that escapes your lips. "Thank fuck."
Echo's lips twitch, and he ducks his head. The tips of his ears are a bit pink, and his shoulders are shaking a little.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing," he says, looking back up. There's a soft smile on his face, and it makes your stomach flutter. "I just—you're really cute, you know that?"
"Am I?"
"Yeah," he replies, and his fingers start tracing patterns on your hip. The feeling is a light, tickling sensation, and you can't help the way your body shifts a bit, moving closer.
“Is that a good thing?” you ask.
"Depends," he says, and the way he parrots your words makes you laugh. He smiles and adds, "And I’m a little relieved. I don't do flings."
"Then why'd you agree to come back here with me?"
"Because I trust you," he says. "And because I want you. More than I've wanted anyone in a long time. Maybe ever."
"Yeah?"
Echo nods, his eyes never leaving yours. You're both close, and you can feel the tension building between the two of you. He's not holding back anymore, and his expression is open, his emotions plain on his face. The butterflies in your stomach kick up, fluttering wildly. Echo reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. He tucks it behind your ear, and the contact is gentle, tender. His fingers brush against the sensitive shell, and the feeling is so delicate, so soft, that it sends a shiver through you.
"Yeah."
You nod, a smile spreading across your face. "Okay, then."
"Okay."
He's smiling now too, and the sight is almost too much. You've seen him smile plenty of times before, but this one is different, and it takes your breath away. His fingers skim over the curve of your jaw, and when they reach your chin, he tilts it up, angling your face towards his. Your lips part, and you suck in a quick breath.
"So," he says, his voice quiet. His eyes drop to your mouth, and he pauses for a moment, just staring. His tongue darts out, swiping over his lips, and when his gaze flicks back up to meet yours, his pupils are blown. "What do you want me to do?"
You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. You're not quite sure how to answer the question. It's a little hard to form words when his thumb is brushing over the soft, sensitive skin of your chin.
"Don't get shy on me now," Echo murmurs. "Come on, tell me."
"I want—" You break off, swallowing. Your throat feels dry, and you try again. "I want you to kiss me."
His mouth curls up into a smirk. "You can do better than that."
"Kriff, Echo, just—"
His grip on your chin tightens a fraction, and you force yourself to swallow and try again, more confidence in your voice. "I want you to fuck me. I want you to take what you want. I want you to make me feel good. Is that enough for you?"
Echo's smirk melts away, and his lips part, his breath coming out in a quick huff. His eyes are fixed on your mouth, and his pupils are dilated, his irises just a thin ring of gold around the edges.
"Fuck," he mutters, and his eyes flicker back up to meet yours. There's an intensity to his gaze that sends a shiver through you, and the feeling is only heightened when his thumb traces the edge of your bottom lip, his touch light.
"So what do you think?" you ask, unable to keep a hint of amusement from creeping into your voice.
Echo shakes his head, his brow furrowed, and you can't help the way your lips curve into a grin. His gaze darts back down to your mouth, and his own lips twitch. When he speaks, his voice is low and husky.
"I knew it."
"Knew what?"
"That you'd be like this," he says. There's a teasing note in his voice, but the look on his face is serious, and you can't help the shiver that runs through you.
"You've been thinking about it?" you ask softly.
"Yeah, I have," he mutters, and then he's moving. He grips your waist, lifting you, his scomp arm sliding underneath your ass, and he turns, pressing you against the wall. The sudden motion and the cool metal at your back sends a rush of adrenaline through you, tearing a sound from your lips.
"I've been thinking about it too," you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist. You're clinging to him, and you can't stop the way you're moving your hips, rubbing against him.
"You have, huh?"
"Yeah," you breathe. "You have no idea."
He makes a sound, a cross between a laugh and a groan. He closes his eyes, and his head falls forward, his forehead pressing against yours.
"I've been driving myself crazy," he mutters, his voice thick with desire. "Just wondering."
"Is that why you've been staring at me?"
He huffs a quiet laugh, and he lifts his head, a rueful smile on his face. "You noticed."
"It was hard not to." You grin, leaning back a fraction, and his grip on your hip tightens, his fingers digging into the fabric of your pants. "Especially when I was trying to catch you."
He lets out a frustrated sigh, and he presses you against the wall, his hips grinding into yours. The pressure is firm and steady, and you can't stifle the moan that slips out.
"You are cruel," he says, and there's a note of wonder in his voice.
"So are you," you shoot back, rocking your hips against him. "All that eye-fucking."
"Eye-fucking," he repeats, letting out a short laugh. "That's what you're calling it?"
"It's accurate."
He lets out another quiet chuckle, his body shaking a fraction, and the motion sends a shiver up your spine.
"I just had to figure it out," he explains. "I had to make sure."
In the dim light, it's hard to see the details of his face, but you can't miss the heat in his eyes, or the flush that colors his cheeks. You can't help the soft laugh that escapes your lips, and you reach up, letting the backs of your fingers trace over his jaw.
"I didn't mind," you say softly. "I've been watching you, too."
Echo hums, a soft, thoughtful sound, his eyes searching your face. "Watching me, huh?"
"Of course," you say. You lean forward, brushing your lips over the sensitive shell of his ear. You can feel him tense against you, and when you drag the tip of your tongue along the delicate flesh, he sucks in a sharp breath. "And I've liked what I've seen."
"Fuck," he breathes, and you can feel him shudder. "Do that again."
You oblige, pressing another kiss to his ear, and this time, you let your teeth scrape over the delicate skin. He lets out a low moan, and his hips roll forward, grinding against yours.
"Kriff, that feels good," he groans, and the sound goes straight to your core. "Keep going."
You nip at the soft skin, and when his hips roll again, you grind down, pushing back. The friction is delicious, and the motion makes him gasp, his eyes fluttering shut. Your mouth trails along his jaw, and his skin is soft under your lips. You kiss a slow path along the edge, and when you reach his chin, you nip the skin, making him jerk his hips again.
"Fuck, you're—" he breaks off with a groan, his head falling back as you trail a series of kisses down his neck.
"I'm what?" your murmur, tracing a line of kisses underneath his jaw.
"You're gonna be the death of me," he manages. His head falls forward, and his mouth crashes into yours.
It's not a gentle kiss. It's messy, a little desperate, and when his tongue licks into your mouth, you can't help the whimper that escapes your lips. He tastes like spice and smoke, and he's kissing you with an intensity that makes your head spin.
You let go of his neck, and your hands move to his chest, tracing over the hard planes. His lips move frantically against yours, his scomp underneath your ass encouraging the motion of your hips, and his hand roams over your body everywhere he can reach. He grabs your waist, squeezing the soft flesh of your hip, running up your ribs and skimming over your stomach before drifting back down. He cups your ass, grabbing a fistful of the flesh and tugging you closer, until there's not an inch of space between the two of you.
You can't help but moan, and the sound seems to spur him on. He lets out a low groan and pulls away, leaving a trail of biting kisses along the line of your jaw, down your throat. His mouth is hot and wet against your skin, and he nips the sensitive flesh, soothing the sting with his tongue.
"Echo," you gasp. "Bed, please. Now."
He nods before his mouth finds yours again. The kiss is sloppy and deep, his tongue sliding against yours, and you can't help the moan that escapes your lips as he pulls away. Echo steps back and sets you on your feet, steadying you with his scomp when your knees wobble.
"Come on," he murmurs. He takes a step forward, backing you toward the bunks, and his gaze doesn't leave yours as he navigates the small space.
His bunk is only a few steps away, and when you reach it, Echo stills. He turns you, guiding you until you're facing the bed, your back to him. You can feel the warmth of his body behind you, the press of his armor against your back.
"Take off your shirt," he says, his voice low in your ear. His scomp is a firm weight on your hip, keeping you still, and his other hand drifts over your side, ghosting over your ribs.
You reach for the hem of your shirt and tug it over your head, letting it fall to the ground. Echo deftly unhooks your bra, sliding the straps down your arms, and you toss it on top of your shirt. He presses a soft, gentle kiss to the back of your neck, and his hand slides up your waist.  You're not sure when he took the glove off his hand, but his fingers are tracing a slow, languid path, his calluses sending little tingles over your skin.
"Take off your pants," he says. The words are quiet, almost reverent, and his fingers brush over the soft swell of your breast.
You follow his command, taking off your boots and socks before you slide the pants down your legs. Your underwear is last, and the thin material is soaked through, the damp fabric clinging to the sensitive flesh.
When you turn back around, he's watching you with a look of open desire. His eyes are dark and heated, and the way they drag over your body, taking in the sight of your naked form, sends a flush spreading over your skin.
"You're overdressed," you say, and there's a teasing edge to your voice.
Echo doesn't answer, just gives you a heated look before turning his attention to his armor. He removes it piece by piece, until the only thing left is his blacks. The fabric clings to his body, outlining the hard planes of muscle and the sharp angles of his shoulders. You can't help but watch him, taking in the sight of him, and the longer you stare, the more he seems to relax.
"Enjoying the show?" he asks, his mouth quirking in a smile.
"Yes," you say honestly. "Very much."
"Good," he says, and he lifts his scomp, making a twirling motion. "Turn around."
You obey, turning back around, and out of the corner of your eye, you see him smile.
"Now bend over," he says, and the words send a bolt of heat straight to your core. "Hands on the bunk."
"Echo—"
"Trust me," he murmurs, and the words send a shiver down your spine. "It'll be worth it."
You nod, and slowly bend at the waist. You brace yourself, leaning forward and resting your weight on your forearms. The position leaves you vulnerable, and you can't help the way a hot, tingling blush creeps over your skin.
"Good," Echo murmurs. His hand slides over your hip, and he gives it a light squeeze before trailing his fingers over the curve of your ass.
"Are you—"
"Don't move," he says, and the words send a jolt of heat straight through you. He's standing so close, his body nearly pressed against yours, and the warmth of his body is seeping into you, heating your skin. "Just let me take care of you."
He steps back, and you can't help but squirm, trying to follow him. "But—"
"What did I just say?" he asks, and the tone of his voice makes your core clench.
"Echo," you whine, and your voice is a bit higher than usual. You can't help the way the heat creeps into your face, or the way your stomach flutters.
"What did I say?" he repeats. He reaches up and brushes his fingers over the curve of your ass, his touch feather-light.
"Don't move."
"Good girl," he says. You hear him drop to his knees behind you, and his hand slides over the curve of your ass. He grabs a handful of the flesh, squeezing it, and the pressure is enough to make your hips jerk.
"Stay still," he says, his voice low and firm. "You know the rules."
"Yeah," you breathe, a bit breathless. "I'll be good."
Echo doesn't say anything, but his thumb rubs a slow, soothing circle over the soft skin. His hand slips from your ass and comes up to the junction of your thighs. He traces the crease where your leg meets your ass, and his fingers brush over the sensitive skin.
"Open your legs," he murmurs, his breath hot on the skin of your inner thigh. "Wider."
You obey, widening your stance, and when you do, he lets out a low hum of approval.
"Just like that," he says. His scomp rests on your hip, steading you as his fingers dip between your thighs. They drag over the sensitive folds, spreading the slick arousal coating your core. The touch is light, teasing, and it's barely enough to satisfy the ache building inside you.
"Kriff, Echo," you groan, and your voice is a bit shaky. "Please, don't—"
"Don't what?" he asks. His hand stills, and he doesn't move, his fingers barely touching the heated flesh.
"Don't tease me," you beg, and the words come out a bit strangled.
"You like it, though," he says. He leans forward, his tongue darting out and dragging a slow, wet line up your core. The feeling makes your hips jerk, and the muscles of your abdomen clench. "Don't you?"
"Yes," you gasp, and the word comes out a bit ragged. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing, desperate for any kind of friction, and the tension is nearly unbearable.
"Then let me," he says, and his voice is a low, raspy murmur. "Let me make this good for you."
He ducks his head again, and his tongue is hot and slick as it drags through your folds, the tip just barely dipping inside your entrance. He repeats the motion, his tongue teasing the sensitive flesh, and the feeling makes your hips buck. His scomp is firm on your hip, preventing you from moving too far, and you can't quite decide if the lack of control is maddening or exhilarating.
"Echo," you whine, and the sound is a plaintive, pleading noise.
He doesn't answer. His thumb and scomp move, his thumb spreading the swollen lips of your pussy, and his scomp helps holds them apart, giving him better access. The motion leaves you exposed, the cool air of the ship caressing the heated flesh, and the feeling makes a shiver run down your spine.
"Look at you," he murmurs. He lets out a low, satisfied sound, and you can't help the way you push into his touch. "So eager."
He dips his head and his tongue slides over your core, tracing a slow, torturous line to your clit. When he reaches it, he presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss to the throbbing bud. The feeling is almost too much, and your hips buck, trying to get away from the sensation.
"No, no, no," he says. "None of that."
His hand grips your hip, holding you still as he teases the bundle of nerves with his tongue. He traces circles around it, and when he sucks it into his mouth, the feeling makes your legs tremble.
"Oh, fuck," you moan, and your hands curl into fists, clutching at the blankets.
"Do you like that?"
"Yes," you gasp. "Feels good."
He hums, the vibration making your legs shake. "How about this?"
You suck in a breath as he presses his tongue flat against your clit, his lips wrapped around the throbbing bundle. His tongue strokes the sensitive flesh, and when he slides a finger inside you, your vision blurs.
"Oh, fuck, yes," you groan. "Yes, yes, please, just like that."
"Good," he says. His voice is a low rasp, and it makes heat pool in your belly. "You're doing so good for me."
Your walls clench around his finger, drawing him deeper, and he starts a slow, torturous pace, working his finger in and out of your dripping cunt.
"Please," you pant. "More. I need more."
"Like this?" he asks. He slides a second finger along with the first, stretching the delicate tissue. The burn is delicious, and it feels so good, the way his fingers fill you up. His mouth is hot and slick against you, and his tongue is dragging over the hard bud of your clit. His fingers thrust slowly, the motion gentle, and his scomp is holding you still, keeping you from pushing back against him. 
The way he's forcing you to stay still, to let him do as he pleases, is sending a hot, tingling flush spreading over your skin. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your breath is coming in short, shallow pants, your entire body wound tight.
"Do you like that?" Echo murmurs, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your inner thigh.
"Yes," you manage. You can feel the heat rising inside you, the tension building in your belly, and your toes are starting to curl. "So much."
"Good girl," he says, and the words send a wave of warmth rushing through you. "You're being so good for me."
"Thank you," you pant. "Feels so good."
He hums in response as his scomp leaves your hip, and you feel the cold, metal appendage drag down the curve of your ass. It slides lower, until the tip of the metal is just barely pressing against the folds of your entrance. The feeling is foreign and strange, and the sensation makes you jerk.
"Is this okay?" he asks.
"Y-yes," you say. The sensation is unfamiliar, and the feeling of the cool metal against your core is making your muscles twitch. "Keep going."
He slides lower through your wet folds, and the motion is slow and deliberate. It's not like his fingers or his tongue, not quite the same. It's harder, cooler, less yielding, but the contrast is delicious, and it's making your legs tremble.
"That feels..."
"Weird?" he asks, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.
"Not bad," you manage, and the words come out a bit strangled. "Different. Good."
"You want more?"
"Yes," you groan. Your hands tighten in the blankets, and the heat is starting to creep up your spine. "Yes, please."
He doesn't reply, just slides his scomp back up through the folds again, this time a little harder. The metal is smooth, and the tip is cool against your clit. He drags it over the hard bud, and the feeling makes a jolt of electricity shoot through you.
"Echo," you gasp.
"Shh," he says. His mouth is hot against your thigh, and his lips press a wet, sucking kiss to the sensitive flesh. "Just relax. Let me take care of you."
You nod, and your eyes slip shut. Your hands clench in the sheets, and the feeling of his mouth, of his fingers, of his scomp, is enough to drive all thoughts from your mind. Your head falls forward, resting against the bunk, and you can't help the soft, desperate sounds that fall from your lips.
Echo keeps up a steady rhythm, his fingers thrusting as his scomp presses patterns over the throbbing bundle of nerves. You can feel the pressure inside you growing, building, and the tension is so intense that it makes your legs shake.
"Please," you beg. "I need—"
"Shh," he soothes. "I know what you need. I'll take care of you."
You whimper, your body shaking, and the tension inside you is nearly unbearable. He keeps up a slow, steady pace, and you can feel your orgasm coiling, tightening inside you.
"I need—"
"Let go," he murmurs. He curls his fingers, pressing the tips against the bundle of nerves hidden inside you, and the feeling is enough to send you hurtling over the edge.
Your body goes rigid, your back arching, and your eyes slam shut as your orgasm crashes through you. The sensation is intense, almost painful, and the tension in your muscles is so strong that it's hard to breathe.
Echo doesn't stop, doesn't even slow. He keeps up the slow, steady pace, and it feels like hours pass before the aftershocks subside, leaving you limp and sated. Your head is spinning, and your lungs are burning as you try to catch your breath. Your release is slick and sticky on your thighs, and Echo's tongue slides over your skin, lapping it up.
"You're perfect," he murmurs. He trails a series of kisses over the swell of your ass, the tip of his nose tracing the line of your spine. "So beautiful."
Finally, Echo pulls away. He removes his fingers, and the sudden emptiness makes you gasp. You collapse forward, unable to hold yourself up any longer, and the sheets are cool and soft against your face. You're dimly aware of Echo shifting, his arm slipping under you, lifting you off the bed. He sits on the edge, holding you against him, chest to chest, and your legs fall to either side of his thighs.
"You okay?" he asks, his voice a low, husky whisper.
"I think so," you mumble. Your head is still spinning, and your limbs feel heavy, a pleasant lassitude spreading through your body. "Just need a minute."
Echo doesn't answer, just nods. He reaches up, brushing your hair away from your face. His fingertips trail over the shell of your ear, and the contact sends a shiver down your spine.
"You were so good," he murmurs. "Such a good girl."
The praise makes a hot flush spread over your cheeks, and you turn your face, hiding it in the crook of his neck.
"Don't," you mumble, the word muffled by his blacks.
"Don't what?" he asks. There's a note of amusement in his voice, and you know without looking that he's smiling.
"Don't tease me."
"But you liked it," he says. His arm tightens around your waist, and his other hand slides into your hair, gently cradling the back of your head. "And I meant every word."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," he says, and his hand moves, cupping your cheek. His thumb brushes over the soft skin, and he tilts your head up, leaning down to brush his lips against yours.
The kiss is soft and sweet, a gentle brush of lips, and it's almost enough to make your heart stop. Your hands move, reaching up and fisting in his blacks, and you pull him closer. You can taste yourself on his lips, the tangy-sweet flavor a sharp contrast to the lingering sweetness of the liquor.
When you pull away, the look on his face makes your heart skip a beat.
"You're staring," you murmur.
"Yeah," he says. He runs a thumb over the swell of your bottom lip, and the touch is soft, reverent. "You're beautiful."
"Flattery will get you everywhere."
"Good to know," he says, grinning.
You smile and reach up, tracing the line of his jaw. His skin is warm and soft under your fingers, and the stubble is a rough contrast to the smoothness of his cheek.
"I could stare at you forever," he says.
"I'm sure there's something else you'd rather be doing," you say, grinning.
"Maybe," he says. His eyes flick over your face, searching. "What about you? What would you rather be doing?"
"You," you say, and his lips twitch in a smile.
"Now who's the flatterer?"
"It's not flattery," you say, and his eyes are bright, the gold flecks in them glowing in the dim lighting. "I want you, Echo. More than I've wanted anyone in a long time."
"So what are we waiting for?" he asks.
"What, you don't want me to return the favor?" you tease, running a hand over his shoulder.
"I'd love that," he says, and his voice is a low rasp, his breath hot against your skin. "But later. Right now, I just want you."
"Well," you say, trailing your hand down his chest. "I'm not stopping you."
Echo smiles and leans down, his mouth finding yours. The kiss is soft, almost tentative, and it sends a bolt of heat straight through you. His lips are gentle against yours, and when his tongue traces the seam, you part for him.
The kiss deepens, and his tongue slides against yours, the slick, velvety muscle stroking yours. You can't help the soft, breathy sound that escapes your lips, and when his teeth nip at your bottom lip, your hands tighten in his blacks.
He lets out a soft grunt, his arm tightening around your waist, and he shifts, the movement rocking his hips forward. The friction makes a soft gasp escape your lips, and you can't help the way you press closer.
"Come on," you murmur, kissing a path along his jaw. You nip the skin, and his hips roll again, pushing up.
"Fuck, wait," he breathes. "Let me—"
You bite down, and his head falls back, exposing the column of his throat. You lean forward, nipping the skin, and the sound he makes is like a prayer.
"Come on," you say again, your teeth dragging over the skin.
"Kriff, wait," he groans, and his scomp is cool against the small of your back. "Just a second."
You pause, pulling away and looking at him.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he says, his breathing a bit ragged. "I just—it's been a while, okay?"
"A while?"
"Yeah," he says, and he's blushing, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. "A long while."
"So?"
"So," he says. He glances down at his lap, then back at you. "It's gonna be over embarrassingly fast if you keep doing that."
"Doing what?" you ask, unable to keep the grin from spreading across your face. "This?"
You lean forward, pressing a kiss to the soft skin just below his ear, and the action makes him suck in a breath. His hand comes up, sliding into your hair, and he guides you to the juncture of his neck and shoulder, his fingers tightening. You can't help the satisfied smile that crosses your face, and when you nip the tender skin, his hips buck, grinding against you.
"Come on," you whisper. You let your tongue slide over the skin, and his hand flexes in your hair. "You don't have to worry about me."
"That's not the point," he mutters, and his hand slides from your hair to grip your hip. "I want you to have fun."
"And I am," you murmur. You drag the tip of your tongue along the line of his throat, and the motion makes him groan. "Trust me, I'm having plenty of fun."
"You're not worried about—about..."
"About what?" you ask. "About finishing early? About getting off and leaving me hanging?"
"Yeah," he admits, his voice low. "Something like that."
"Why would I be? You already made me come," you say with a smile. "That was fun, remember?"
"Yeah," he says. His scomp slides over the curve of your ass, pulling you closer.
"Then why don't you let me have some more fun?" you murmur. You rock your hips forward, and the motion makes him groan. "Come on. Let me take care of you."
"Are you—"
"If I say it's fine, it's fine," you say. You press a line of kisses down his neck, pausing to nip the soft skin. "Stop worrying and just enjoy yourself."
"That's—"
"Easy for you to say," you finish, and he huffs out a breath.
"Come on," you murmur, nipping the skin. "Let go."
He doesn't say anything, just tugs your hips forward, grinding you against him. You can't help the soft gasp that slips past your lips, and the feel of him, even through the fabric, is delicious.
"Just like that," you whisper, your lips brushing over his jaw.
Echo rolls his hips again, and the friction is delicious. The pressure is almost too much, but his grip on you is tight, preventing you from pulling away. His mouth finds yours, his tongue sliding past your lips, and he licks into your mouth with a slow, wet slide. The kiss is messy and frantic, his tongue tracing the edges of your lips, the tip flicking over the roof of your mouth.
You moan at the feeling of his mouth on yours, the way he's taking what he wants, and the sound seems to spur him on. He surges forward, your back hitting the bed, and his body follows, covering yours. He braces himself, his weight on his elbows, his mouth never leaving yours. His tongue delves deeper, and the kiss is hard and messy, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip.
"You feel so good," he groans, his lips brushing over the soft skin. "Can I—"
"Yes," you interrupt, and he lets out a soft laugh.
"At least let me ask," he says. "It's polite."
"You’ve been very polite," you say. Your fingers trace over his ribs, and his abs clench beneath the soft touch. "But please, don't hold back anymore."
Echo pulls away, and the look on his face is enough to send a hot, tingling blush spreading over your cheeks. He's watching you with a mix of awe and desire, as his hand reaches down, fumbling with the clasp of his blacks.
"Do you need some help?" you tease, grinning.
"No," he says. His tone is firm, almost commanding, and the sound makes your stomach flip.
Echo finally manages to unclasp the garment, and his hand falls away, letting the blacks hang loose around his hips. He tugs them down, revealing the hard planes of his stomach, the sharp cut of his hips, and he slides off the bed and stands, kicking them away.
When he turns back to face you, his thumb hooks into the waistband of his briefs, and his eyes meet yours.
"You okay?" he asks.
"Are you seriously asking that question?"
"Just checking," he says. He hesitates, and the expression on his face is almost shy. "I'm not... I mean, I don't look like—"
"Echo, if you don't get your ass back over here and fuck me, I'm going to scream," you say, and he snorts.
"Alright, alright," he says. He tugs the briefs down his legs, and when his cock is free, it bobs, slapping against his abdomen. You try not to stare, but the sight of him is enough to make your core clench.
Your eyes widen, and the words die on your lips.
"Oh."
"Oh?"
"Uh-huh."
Echo steps closer, and the movement makes his cock bob again. The shaft is long and thick, the head a deep, dusky red, and the sight makes your mouth go dry. He's leaking, and when he gives himself a quick stroke, a bead of precum dribbles down the head, making the soft skin glisten.
"Fuck, you're pretty," you say, and his cheeks turn a faint shade of pink.
"You're one to talk," he murmurs, his gaze flicking over you. "I could stare at you all night."
You blush and shift, pulling your legs together. "I bet you say that to all the girls."
"No," he says, his voice soft. "Just you."
Your breath catches, and for a moment, neither of you speak.
"I should, uh, get a—"
"I have an implant,” you say, and he nods, swallowing.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you murmur. "If you're good with it, I'm good with it."
"Yeah," he breathes, and his gaze is dark, heated. "Yeah, okay."
He hesitates for a moment before grabbing the neck of his blacks, and with a quick motion, he pulls the shirt off, dropping it onto the pile. You can't help the way your eyes roam over his body, taking in the sight of him.
His muscles are defined and well-defined, his arms and shoulders corded with lean muscle. The planes of his chest and abdomen are sharp, the lines of his muscles standing out in sharp relief under the scars that spread across his skin, and you can't stop yourself from reaching out and tracing a line over his ribs. You’re pleased to see he’s put on weight, the bones not so prominent, and there are some soft edges where there were none before.
He's beautiful, and for a moment, you're struck dumb by the sight of him. 
Echo watches you, and the longer you stare, the more his muscles twitch, his nerves clearly getting the best of him.
"Sorry, you're just—you're really hot," you say. "It's a bit intimidating."
He lets out a soft huff of laughter, and his cheeks flush.
"Yeah, right," he says. He climbs onto the bunk and crawls toward you, his eyes locked on yours. When he reaches you, he settles himself between your legs, his forearms resting on either side of your head.
"If anyone's intimidated, it's me."
"Why's that?"
"Have you seen yourself?" he murmurs. He leans down, brushing his lips against yours. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."
The words make your heart stutter, and you reach up, cupping his cheek. "You're just saying that because you want to get laid."
"I'm just saying it because it's true," he says, and the words are a quiet whisper against your lips.
He dips his head, and his mouth finds yours again. You can't help the soft moan that escapes, and the sound makes Echo's hips rock against yours. His cock brushes against your thigh, a warm, velvety weight, and the feel of him sends a wave of heat crashing through you.
Echo breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged. His hips move again, and this time, his cock drags against the folds of your core.
"What do you want?" he asks, his nose brushing over the swell of your cheek. "Tell me."
"You," you say, and your hands slide over his shoulders, clutching at his back. "Inside me. Now."
Echo doesn't answer, just shifts, sliding the thick head of his cock through the slick arousal coating your folds. When the tip brushes against the bundle of nerves nestled between the swollen flesh, your hips jerk, and a soft whine slips past your lips.
"Come on," you whisper, and your voice is a breathless, needy whimper. "Just—"
"Shh," he murmurs, his mouth finding yours. "I've got you."
He reaches down, gripping the base of his cock and guiding the head to your entrance. He doesn't move, doesn't thrust, just lets the tip rest there, a heavy weight against your core. The anticipation is almost too much, and you can feel the slick, heated flesh throb, clenching around nothing.
"Gods, Echo," you breathe. "Don't tease."
"You like it," he says, and his hand slides over your thigh, his fingers wrapping around your knee. He pulls it up, spreading you open, and his hips shift, his cock bumping your clit.
"Kriff, come on," you gasp, your back arching. "Don't—"
He doesn't wait for you to finish, just pushes forward. His cock is thick, the stretch almost too much, and the sudden feeling makes a soft, keening cry slip past your lips. He stills, and you can feel him trembling, the muscles in his shoulders quivering.
"Fuck, you're tight," he chokes out. "Just—hold still for a second."
You nod, and Echo lets out a shuddering breath, his head falling forward. His forehead presses against your shoulder, and his eyes slip shut. His hips twitch, and the motion makes his cock sink another inch inside you, the stretch making a soft whine slip past your lips.
"Shit," he breathes. "You're—I don't want to hurt you."
"You won't," you gasp.
He nods and shifts his hips, sliding a few inches deeper. His cock is thick and heavy, and the feeling of him stretching you is almost too much. The fullness is almost painful, but there's something delicious about the burn, and you can't help the way you twitch, trying to get closer.
"Fuck," he groans, and the word comes out strangled. "How are you so kriffing tight?"
"Sorry," you gasp. "Been a while."
"You're going to kill me," he murmurs, and his hips push forward again, the movement a slow, steady slide. "Just—fuck, you feel so good."
His words make a bolt of heat shoot through you, and the tension inside you is nearly unbearable. You can't help the way a soft whimper slips past your lips, and the sound makes his hips jerk, his cock sinking deeper.
"Shh," he whispers, his breath hot against your shoulder. His hand tightens on your knee, and the motion spreads you wider, allowing him to sink deeper. "I'll take care of you."
"Come on," you plead. Your hands slide over his back, the skin damp with sweat, and you can feel the muscles tense and relax under your touch. "I can take it."
"I know you can," he says, and his scomp strokes the curve of your hip. "You're being so good for me. Taking me so well."
The praise makes a shiver run down your spine, and his hips thrust again, pushing forward until he's buried to the hilt. The feeling is intense, the stretch a delicious ache, and your legs fall to either side, spreading to accommodate him.
"That's it," he murmurs. "Good girl."
You can't help the way the words make your core clench, and the feeling makes his breath catch.
"You like that, huh?" he asks, his mouth moving against the hollow of your throat. "Being told what a good girl you are?"
"Echo," you whine.
"Yeah," he breathes. "You do."
He lifts his head and kisses you, his tongue sliding against yours. The kiss is slow, languid, and his hand is gentle as he cups your cheek. His thumb strokes over your skin, the touch almost reverent, and the sweetness is such a stark contrast to the way he's buried deep inside you that it makes your head spin.
"Fuck, Echo," you gasp, the words muffled against his lips.
"So good for me," he says. His hand leaves your face and moves to your leg, pulling your knee up and pressing it toward your chest. Your ankle rests on his shoulder, and the position allows him to push deeper, his hips grinding against yours.
The new angle makes him slide against a spot hidden deep inside you, and the sudden rush of sensation makes your toes curl.
"Oh, fuck," you gasp. "Right there."
"Here?" he murmurs. He repeats the motion, his hips rolling against yours, and the feeling is so intense that your vision blurs.
"Yeah," you manage through a choked sob.
"That's it," he soothes, and his hand strokes the side of your thigh. "You're doing so good for me."
His hand moves from your leg to the bunk, and his weight presses down on you, his body covering yours. His movements are slow and deliberate, his hips grinding against yours. Each thrust is a steady, rolling grind, and the pressure is so intense that it takes everything in you not to break apart.
"Good girl," he murmurs, and his mouth finds yours. The kiss is messy, a contrast of hard and soft, and when his teeth nip at your bottom lip, the sharp pinch is a delicious counterpoint to the sweetness.
His hand leaves the bunk and slides into your hair, fisting the soft strands and holding you still. The grip is firm, but not rough, and the sensation is strangely erotic, sending a rush of heat coursing through you.
"Harder," you gasp, and he obeys, snapping his hips forward hard enough to punch the breath from your lungs. The new pace is harder, faster, and the slap of flesh against flesh is loud in the quiet of the ship.
"Fuck," he groans. "You feel so fucking good."
You don't reply, just moan, and his hand tightens in your hair. His teeth graze the line of your jaw, and the sudden bite of pain is so sharp and delicious that it makes your vision blur.
"God, yes," you groan. "Harder."
He lets out a soft grunt and thrusts forward, the force of the movement making the bunk creak. You can't help the strangled cry that slips past your lips, and the noise seems to spur him on, his hips driving against yours with a force that has the bed shaking.
"Echo," you gasp, and the word comes out in a desperate, keening whine. "Please, I need—"
"I know what you need," he whispers, and his hand falls away from your hair to brace himself above you. His scomp leaves your hip and trails between your bodies, the smooth, cool metal sliding over the sensitive bud of your clit. "And I'll give it to you. You just have to trust me."
"I do," you gasp.
"Yeah?" he murmurs, and his mouth moves to your throat. His lips trail a path down the delicate skin, his tongue darting out to taste you. "You trust me?"
"Yes," you manage.
"Good," he says, his breath hot against your skin, and the tip of his scomp presses against the hard bud, circling slowly. "I'm going to make you come. Hard. And when you do, I'm going to fuck you until you're sobbing. Can you take that?"
The words send a thrill of electricity through you, and the tension inside you is so strong that it makes your legs shake.
"Can you?"
"Yes," you manage.
"Good girl," he says, and his teeth nip at the skin below your ear. His scomp moves faster, the motion a steady circle over the throbbing bundle of nerves, and you gasp when you feel it start to vibrate.
"Oh, fuck," you groan. Your back arches, pushing your breasts against his chest. "What—have you always—"
"No," he says, his voice strained. "Never used it for this. Just for you."
"That's—fuck, Echo, please," you beg. Your eyes are squeezed shut, the pleasure so intense that you can't think straight.
"You like that?" he murmurs, and the vibration gets a fraction stronger. The feeling makes a wave of heat wash over you, your muscles clenching and twitching, and your head falls back, resting on the mattress.
"Yes," you gasp.
"You're so close, aren't you?"
"Fuck, Echo," you choke out, and your nails dig into his back, scratching at the skin. He moans at the feeling, his hips driving faster, and the combination of sensations is enough to send you hurtling over the edge.
Your orgasm hits you like a bolt of lightning, and the intensity of it makes your legs spasm, the muscles twitching uncontrollably. You can't control the sounds that are coming from your mouth, desperate gasps and soft, choked sobs, and it's only the feeling of Echo's mouth on yours, kissing the noises away, that keeps you from screaming.
"Oh, fuck," he groans against your mouth. "Just like that. So good for me. Let me hear you."
The words are a whispered prayer against your lips, and the praise makes another wave of heat crash through you. Your core clenches around his cock, and the sensation is so exquisite that it makes tears sting the corners of your eyes. True to his word, he doesn't let up, and his scomp never stops, the vibrations against the sensitive nub sending sparks of electricity shooting through you.
"Please," you sob, and the words are barely audible. "Please, too much."
"One more," he pants. His breathing is ragged, and his thrusts are growing harder, his hips snapping against yours. "Give me one more. Can you do that for me?"
"I don't—I can't—"
"You can," he says. "I know you can. You're being such a good girl for me. Come on. Give me one more."
You nod, unable to speak, and Echo rewards you with a kiss, his tongue sliding against yours. His hips are moving faster, losing any pretense of control, his pelvis grinding against yours with each forward snap of his hips. His scomp circles your clit, and the feeling is so intense that your limbs go numb, a tingling sensation creeping up your spine. You can feel the pressure inside you building again, coiling, and the tension is so strong that it feels like you're going to fly apart.
"Oh, fuck," you gasp, and the words are muffled against his mouth.
"Yeah," he groans. His thrusts are rough, almost desperate, and the movement rocks the bunk. "That's it. You're doing so well. I'm going to make you come all over my cock."
"Please, Echo." Your hands grip his back so hard that you're afraid you're going to leave bruises, and you can feel his muscles tense and release, shifting under the thin layer of sweat-slick skin. "Please."
"I know," he says. His voice is low, husky, and his lips brush over the shell of your ear. "Come on, sweetheart. Be a good girl and come for me."
The words are your undoing. You can't hold back any longer, and with a loud cry, you tumble over the edge, falling headfirst into the blinding, white-hot pleasure that's coursing through you.
This time, your orgasm is too much to contain, and a scream rips from your throat, the sound echoing off the walls. Your back arches, and your legs twitch, a violent tremor wracking your frame as a hot flood of liquid spills from your core. The force of your release is enough to push Echo's cock from your body, and a wet gush follows, coating his stomach and dripping down your thighs.
"Oh, fuck," Echo chokes out. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and his scomp falls away, slamming down beside your head, bracing himself. "Fuck, I'm—"
He doesn't finish the thought, just fumbles for his cock, gripping the base. It only takes a few quick strokes before he's coming, a loud groan escaping his lips. The first pulse hits your stomach, followed by a second, and a third, and the sensation makes a choked moan slip past your lips. He lets out a low groan, his hips twitching, and his cock dribbles the last few drops of his cum, painting a thick line over your skin.
Through your blurry vision, you see Echo's mouth is open, his eyes wide as he stares down at you, and the sight is so sweet, so genuine, that you can't help the breathless huff of laughter that slips past your lips.
"Kriff," he pants. His hand drops to the bunk, and he props himself up on trembling arms. The two of you stay frozen for a moment, chests heaving, your expressions a mirror of each other's shock.
"Fuck," Echo finally chokes out. "Are you okay?"
You nod, unable to form a coherent thought. You let your head fall back against the mattress, and the movement makes a drop of his cum run down your breast, dripping off the underside and falling to the sheets.
"Did I—"
"So good," you manage, and the words are a slurred mumble. He nods, swallowing, and then he turns, collapsing onto the bunk next to you. He lets out a noise somewhere between a groan and a laugh, and when you glance over, he has his forearm draped over his eyes, his chest still heaving.
"Fuck," he breathes. "Oh, fuck."
"What?" you ask. You try to shift, but the feeling of his cum cooling on your stomach and chest is a distracting, sticky sensation, and you're not entirely sure if your limbs are still attached.
"I, uh," he starts. Echo huffs out another small laugh as his arm falls away, and his head lolls to the side, his eyes finding yours. "That was the hottest thing I've ever seen. I don't even—you're—that was incredible."
"I can't feel my toes," you admit, and the confession makes him laugh.
"Yeah?"
"I'm serious," you say. "Like, are they still there? Is anything still there?"
He rolls onto his side, making a show of looking you over, and when his gaze lands on the mess covering your abdomen, he sucks in a sharp breath.
"Yeah," he murmurs, his eyes darkening. "They're still there. Everything's still there."
"You look smug," you say.
"Can't imagine why," he says, grinning. He reaches out, tracing a finger through the cooling mess on your skin, and the gentle caress makes a shiver run down your spine. "Fuck, look at you."
"Yeah?"
"You're a mess," he says, and he grins, leaning forward. He kisses you, his lips soft against yours, and when he pulls away, he looks a fraction more composed. "Let me clean you up."
Echo sits up, swinging his legs off the bed, and the movement makes his back muscles ripple, the motion a fluid, graceful flex of sinew and tendon. You can't help the way the sight makes your heart skip a beat, and you have the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him and bury your face in his back, to cling to him and never let him go.
"Are you okay?" he asks, looking over his shoulder at you. "Does anything hurt?"
"No," you say, shaking your head. "Everything feels... really good."
His answering grin is more self-satisfied than you're used to seeing, and the expression is so charming that you can't stop the affectionate roll of your eyes.
"Don't look so pleased with yourself," you tease.
"Hey," Echo says, getting to his feet. "I think I earned it."
"I guess so," you murmur, and he chuckles, shaking his head.
"Come here," he says, turning. He tugs you upright and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you against his chest. The sudden motion makes a laugh bubble up in your throat, and he flashes you a grin, his arms tightening around you. He leans down, his mouth finding yours, and the kiss is sweet and tender, his lips moving over yours with a languid, easy affection.
"What's gotten into you?" you ask when he pulls away.
"You," he smirks, tilting his head. "Or I got into you. Something like that."
"Oh, shut up," you laugh, and you shove his shoulder. He smiles, a wide, crooked grin that makes your heart stutter.
"Come on," he says. He pulls away, grabbing your hip and turning you around, guiding you toward the fresher. "Let's get you cleaned up."
"I can do it," you protest, but his arm wraps around your waist, holding you close.
"I know.” 
He doesn't elaborate, just steers you toward the fresher. You lean your hip against the sink while he turns on the shower, and you let him tug you inside, his scomp hooking the handle and closing the door behind the two of you. The water is cool, but it's not unpleasant, and the droplets feel nice against your heated skin.
Echo washes you with a gentleness that takes your breath away, and the tenderness is so at odds with the man you thought you knew. His touch is careful, almost reverent, and there's a quiet intensity in the way he traces the lines and angles of your body with his hand and his scomp, the movements slow and deliberate. He pays special attention to the space between your thighs, the touch firm but still gentle, and the sensation makes you bite back a whimper.
"Shh," he soothes, and his mouth finds the hollow of your throat. He kisses the delicate skin, and the gesture is so sweet that it makes your chest ache.
"Why are you doing this?" you whisper.
"Because I want to," he says, and his thumb swipes over the swell of your breast. "And because you deserve it."
"Deserve it?" you ask as his mouth trails up your neck.
"Yeah," he murmurs. His hand slides up your ribs, and his fingers cup your breast, the palm covering the soft, supple flesh. It's a gentle touch, almost absentminded, and the intimacy of the gesture is so startling that it makes your breath catch.
"Why would you say that?" you whisper.
"Because it's true," he says, and his mouth slides along your jaw, the kiss tender. "Because you deserve to be taken care of. Because I like taking care of you."
"You do?"
"I do," he says, and the words are spoken against the delicate skin just below your ear. "More than anything."
"But—"
"It's okay," he murmurs. "Stop overthinking."
You swallow and nod, and his touch is gentle as he finishes washing you. When you're both clean, Echo leaves you under the water to change the sheets, and you try to ignore the fact that your limbs are a bit unsteady without him. 
The water starts to turn cold, and you quickly shut it off, squeezing some of the excess water from your hair. You step out of the shower and grab a towel, and you smile to yourself when you see your sleep clothes folded on the edge of the sink, Echo's handiwork evident in the perfect creases. You dry off quickly, and you're just pulling on your shorts when you hear the sound of the hatch opening and a pair of heavy footsteps rushing up the ramp.
“Echo!” Wrecker shouts, his voice frantic. The floor shakes slightly under your feet as he comes to a stop, and the hatch slides shut with a metallic clang.
You freeze, the fabric halfway up your thighs, and a bolt of panic shoots through you.
You can hear Echo outside of the fresher, and the rustle of fabric as he tosses the soiled linens to the side, followed by a few muttered curses.
"What?" he finally calls, his tone annoyed.
"There you are," Wrecker says.
"Where else would I be?" Echo snaps, and you can hear him tugging his blacks over his head.
"Crosshair said he lost track of you," Wrecker says, and you hear him walk across the ship. "Thought maybe you were in trouble. And we can't find Stitches. Have you seen her? She disappeared, and she's not answering her comm."
Your eyes go wide, and your stomach drops. Oh, fuck.
"Uh," Echo says, and you hear him shuffling around, the sounds a lot closer than they were before. "Yeah, she's here. She's just, um, taking a shower."
"Oh," Wrecker says. There's a long pause, and you can picture the look on his face, the puzzled frown as he tries to process the information. You can almost hear the gears turning in his brain, and you wait, holding your breath.
"We, uh, decided to head back," Echo explains after the silence has dragged on for a bit too long.
"Together," Wrecker adds. It isn't a question, but the note of suspicion is obvious, and Echo doesn't miss it.
"Yeah," Echo says, his voice strained. He clears his throat. "We were, uh, really tired. We were having a good time, but the club was really loud, and we just..."
He trails off, and you let out a quiet groan and press a hand to your face. You're tempted to leave the fresher, to make your presence known and get the conversation over with, but you can't quite bring yourself to open the door.
"Oh," Wrecker says again, and the way the word is drawn out makes you wince. You can practically hear the grin in his voice, and you know he's figured it out. "You guys had a good time, huh?"
"I mean, not like that," Echo says quickly, and you grimace.
"Uh huh.”
"We were just talking, and we decided to head back, and she was, um, she was drunk, and I was tired, and we were just gonna hang out and watch a holo or something."
"Right," Wrecker says, his tone knowing. "What holo were you gonna watch?"
"It’s uh…” Echo trails off, and a moment later, he lets out a sigh of defeat. You can’t help but laugh at that, the sound loud enough to echo off of the tile.
"Hey Stitches,” Wrecker calls out in greeting, and you roll your eyes and open the door.
"Hi Wrecker," you say, leaning against the door frame.
"Did you have a good time?" he asks with a wide grin.
"Yeah," you say, and you can't help the way your eyes flick to Echo. "We had a really good time."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," Echo echoes. His eyes meet yours, and the expression on his face is soft, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. You smile back, unable to keep the happiness from welling up inside you.
"Yeah," you say. You can't help the way you feel yourself blush, the heat rising in your cheeks. "It was, uh, really good."
Wrecker's grin widens, and he glances at Echo, giving him a thumbs-up. Echo blushes, his cheeks turning pink, and his shoulders lift in a small shrug.
"That's good," Wrecker says, beaming. "I'm happy for you guys."
"Thanks, Wrecker," you laugh. "Sorry for making you worry."
"It's okay." He waves a hand. "I'm glad you two had a good time. It's about time."
"Wrecker," Echo groans, and Wrecker lets out a loud guffaw.
"What? I'm not wrong." He looks between the two of you, his smile growing wider. "We've all been rooting for you two. We were starting to get a little worried, honestly. I thought I was gonna have to lock you guys in a closet or somethin'."
Echo lets out a groan and buries his face in his hand, and the sight is so comical that you snort a laugh.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," you say dryly.
"Nah, don’t apologize.” Wrecker pauses, his expression thoughtful. "Well, actually, maybe apologize to Crosshair. He's not too happy about this, since it means he lost the bet."
"The bet?"
"Oh yeah," Wrecker says. "We had a running bet on when you guys would finally hook up. Crosshair thought it would take you until at least next month, so he's pretty pissed."
"You guys were betting on us?" you ask, aghast. Echo's hand slides down his face to cover his mouth, and in his eyes is a mixture of mortification and disbelief.
"Hey, don't look at me," Wrecker says, holding his hands up in defense. "I was for you two from the start. I had last month."
"For fuck's sake," Echo mutters, and he leans against the bulkhead and stares at the ceiling, shaking his head. "Just kill me now."
"Who won?" you ask.
"Hunter," Wrecker grumbles, and he lets out a huff. "He has an unfair advantage, if you ask me."
You and Echo exchange a glance, and Echo shakes his head, looking resigned.
"Don't worry, though," Wrecker continues. "We're all glad you two are finally together."
"Yeah, well, thanks, Wrecker," Echo mutters, and Wrecker beams.
"No problem. Anyways, I’m gonna head back to the club," he says, winking. “You guys enjoy the rest of your night.”
"Sure," Echo groans, his head thumping against the bulkhead.
"Oh, we will," you say, and you shoot Echo a wicked grin. He meets your gaze, his eyes widening and his cheeks going pink before a slow smile tugs at the corner of his mouth.
"That's my girl," Wrecker crows. He grins and waves before turning on his heel and heading down the ramp. The hatch opens with a hiss, and you listen as the sound of his boots fades into the distance.
The silence is a welcome relief, and the tension seems to leave Echo's shoulders, the muscles relaxing. He takes a step toward you, his scomp reaching out to pull you close, and the motion is so sweet and natural that it makes a wave of emotion rise up inside you.
"Hey," you whisper.
"Hey."
"So," you start slowly. "That was fun."
"I'm sorry," he sighs. "If you wanted to keep it quiet, I'll talk to them."
"No, it's okay," you say, smiling. "I think it's nice."
"You do?"
"Yeah," you say. You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, tugging him down for a quick kiss. "And I'm kind of proud that you're finally mine."
"Finally?" he asks, a smile tugging at his mouth.
"Well, yeah," you say. You press a kiss to his throat, right above his pulse, and his chest rumbles with a contented hum. "I've been interested in you since day one."
"Really?"
"You're kind of hard to resist," you admit, and he huffs out a soft laugh.
"Trust me, the feeling is mutual."
"Well, I'm glad you're not fighting it anymore."
"Me too," he murmurs. His arms wrap around you, pulling you closer, and he leans down and brushes his lips over yours. The kiss is tender, affectionate, and his hand trails over your lower back in a gentle caress.
You pull back, and his forehead dips to rest against yours, his breathing steady.
"Do you wanna watch that holo?" you ask, and he huffs a laugh.
“Sure.”
You grab your datapad and settle onto the bunk, and Echo curls up beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist. His touch is warm and comforting, and the feeling is enough to make your chest ache.
You put on a mindless holodrama, some action flick that's probably more entertaining if you've actually seen the other movies in the series. You don't mind, though. The plot isn't that interesting, and the acting is pretty bad. What really draws your attention is the feel of Echo pressed against your side, the weight of his arm draped over your waist, and the rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. It's comfortable, and intimate, and just what you both need.
And if, during the holo, Echo's hand starts creeping up your shirt, and his mouth starts tracing the curve of your jaw, well, that's nobody's business but yours.
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4dbarbie-archive · 3 days
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4dbarbie remix: Give up and Be Free
Hello! It's been a while since my last remix. I felt spontaneously inspired to make this based on my most favourite 4dbarbie asks. This one's a bit different as this time I got help from AI so they did a lot of the legwork and I made edits as I saw fit, it definitely cut down on the amount of time it takes to make a remix! I asked them to write it in a conversational tone like a friendly guru talking to me so some of the wording has been changed (which can sometimes be helpful in understanding the message in a new way) so it's not entirely 4dbarbie's words verbatim but the message remains the same (feel free to check out the source texts if you wish!). Hope you enjoy!
My highlight colour key: key concepts are in pink, action points in purple, really important points in red
Source texts: 1, 2, 3, 4 Recommended reading: 1, 2, 3, 4
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Welcome, my friend. Let me guide you through something deeply transformative, yet so simple it might surprise you. First and foremost, you need to get to a place within where the person you’re identified with no longer bothers you. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. It’s not about force or willpower—it’s more of a surrender, or as I prefer to call it, a giving up. Yes, giving up. Because even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. Even if this feels like misery at first, accept it. Just sit with it. Only when you no longer fear things staying the same, when you cease caring, does true change begin.
You see, I didn’t fake being unaffected. I simply allowed things to happen to “me”. Painful, pleasant, it didn’t matter. I didn’t try to change anything. I let go of the exhausting loop of desire and fear, like finally putting down a heavy load. The emotions still came, but I didn’t involve myself with them. They didn’t interest me anymore, I became indifferent and neutral to whatever was happening. If I got what I wanted, fine. If I didn’t, fine again. Events passed by like clouds—leaving no imprint, no reverberation. In time, it was like they never existed at all.
And here’s the beautiful part—you’ll begin to toy with this idea: “What if none of this ever really existed in the way I thought?” It’s playful and not serious because you've stopped caring. You’ve stopped chasing “realization”, stopped chasing anything. There's no more trying, no more effort. You no longer want or need anything. And in place of needing nothing, you find something you never expected: power. Not power over things, but power in yourself, in your complete detachment from the world. When you reach this point, everything else becomes secondary.
So how do you walk this path? Start by giving up. Give up the idea that you can control anything. You can do nothing about life but cease caring and let it happen. Do not try to understand anymore; simply be. Let everything be as it is. Let life happen. After all, we all die one day, and it’ll all be over anyway. Why exhaust yourself worrying, fearing, striving or desiring? It’s like fighting an ocean tide—you’re just tiring yourself out. No matter what, you can't force life to give you what you want. Allow everything its being and leave it alone. Instead, step back and let the waves wash over you, let life happen as it happens. Life will flow as it will, and you no longer push or pull at it.
Expect nothing. Not from your body, not from your mind, not from the world. Let them be as they will. If life wants to beat you, just let it beat you. It’s like facing a bully—when you stop reacting, when you stop caring, they lose interest. Sure, maybe they’ll hit harder for a while, but you’ve already surrendered. What more can they do? The same goes for life—stop caring what happens and you’ll find it starts losing its power over you.
Now that you’ve freed yourself from expectations, give yourself everything. Live completely in the moment, forget about a past, don't think about a future. Be here, fully, now. All the good things you used to think about others, think about yourself. In each moment, ask yourself “What if there’s nothing outside of me? What would I think and feel right now?”. Let go of caring what life does with it, just do it. You’re not doing it for some future result; you’re doing it because it feels true to you; to be free and be exactly what you want to be in the moment. Whether tomorrow repeats itself or brings something new, so what? You no longer depend on anything external to feel fulfilled. You keep to yourself and continue thinking what you want, continue being who you want to be. If life follows along, let it. If it doesn’t, let it not. Hold steady to what feels right within you, and allow your thoughts to shape what's real to you.
Finally, remember to forget. The past? Gone. What you see before you? Just a shadow of what was. Now, here’s the key: Want nothing. Do nothing. Don’t chase, don’t seek—just let yourself be. This doesn’t mean you stop living or acting; it simply means you stop the endless striving, the relentless push to try make life bend to your will. Instead, just watch what happens. And most importantly, don’t attach any meaning to it. Be a witness, a quiet observer of the flow of life. Whatever happens, good or bad, is just passing through—you have nothing to do with it. It’s not permanent, nothing is. So why believe in it as though it were immovable? Cease caring and be free!
Let the world dance as it may, but you—remain still within. Watch as the transient nature of everything becomes clearer. You’ll see that the world outside is nothing more than a reflection of the thoughts you no longer hold, and that what you once took to be reality soon ceases to be when you take away your identification.
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inkspiredwriting · 2 days
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Flirting Flops and Jealousy Jokes
Five Hargreeves x Fem!reader
Warnings: none
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Five Hargreeves and his wife, Y/n, had a playful and competitive relationship, always trying to outdo each other in various games and pranks. One afternoon, Five, feeling a bit mischievous, decided to test the waters of jealousy. His plan? Flirt with another woman and see how Y/n would react.
“I’ll be the perfect gentleman,” Five muttered to himself, adjusting his collar as he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. “Just enough to make her a little jealous.”
They were at a café with some friends, including Klaus, who was already sipping a fancy cocktail and eyeing the other patrons with a knowing smirk. Five scanned the crowd and spotted a woman sitting alone at the bar, engrossed in a book. She seemed like a safe target for his little experiment.
With a casual stride, Five approached the woman at the bar. He flashed a charming smile and said, “Hello there. You look like you’re enjoying your book.”
The woman glanced up, clearly taken by surprise. “Oh, hi. Yes, it’s really interesting.”
“Mind if I join you?” Five asked, leaning against the bar with what he hoped was a suave demeanor.
The woman seemed slightly flustered but nodded. “Sure, I guess.”
Five launched into a series of light compliments and small talk, keeping an eye on Y/n from the corner of his vision. She was chatting with Klaus but noticed Five’s new friend almost immediately. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she excused herself from Klaus, making a beeline for the bar.
Y/n, trying to keep her composure, sauntered over to Five and the woman. She slid her arm around Five’s waist, plastering a sweet smile on her face. “Hey, darling. Who’s your new friend?”
Five, inwardly thrilled that his plan was working, kept his tone nonchalant. “Oh, this is, uh...” He turned to the woman, suddenly realizing he hadn’t gotten her name.
“Linda,” the woman supplied, looking slightly uncomfortable now.
“Yes, Linda,” Five said, trying to regain his composure. “We were just discussing books.”
“Books, huh?” Y/n said, her smile tightening. “Well, Linda, Five here has the most interesting taste in literature. Isn’t that right, honey?”
Five, sensing the tension in Y/n’s voice, tried to smooth things over. “Absolutely. Linda, have you ever read about quantum physics?”
Linda’s eyes widened. “Um, no, not really. I should get going. Nice meeting you both.”
As Linda hurried away, Five turned to face Y/n, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. “Someone jealous, are we?”
Y/n folded her arms, giving him a look that could melt steel. “Jealous? More like annoyed that my husband is trying to flirt with other women.”
Five chuckled, pulling Y/n close. “It was just a little experiment. I wanted to see how you’d react.”
Y/n rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Well, congratulations, you got a reaction. And now, you’re going to have to make it up to me.”
“Anything for you, my love,” Five said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “What’s your price?”
“Let’s see,” Y/n pretended to ponder, tapping her chin. “How about you make me dinner tonight? And no takeout. I want the real deal.”
Five groaned playfully. “Fine, but don’t blame me if the kitchen ends up in flames.”
Klaus, who had been watching the whole scene unfold from his spot at the table, burst into laughter. “You two are hilarious. Five, you’re lucky she didn’t dump that cocktail over your head.”
Y/n laughed, poking Five in the ribs. “That’s because I love him too much to waste a good drink.”
Five grinned, wrapping his arm around Y/n’s shoulders as they walked back to join their friends. “And that, my dear, is why you’re the best wife in all the timelines.”
That evening, Five attempted to make a fancy dinner for Y/n, as promised. Despite his best efforts, the kitchen soon resembled a war zone, with flour and sauce splattered everywhere and smoke rising from the oven.
Y/n, sitting at the counter with a glass of wine, watched the chaos with a mix of amusement and affection. “You know, you’re actually kind of cute when you’re trying so hard.”
Five, waving a dish towel at the smoke detector, turned to her with an exasperated smile. “Remind me never to make you jealous again. This is way too much work.”
Y/n laughed, taking another sip of her wine. “Agreed. But it’s the thought that counts.”
Finally, after much trial and error, Five managed to present a somewhat passable meal. They sat down at the table, clinking their glasses together.
“To experiments that backfire,” Y/n toasted, her eyes sparkling with laughter.
“And to the most patient and forgiving wife,” Five added, his gaze full of love.
And as they enjoyed their meal, Five realized that no other woman is as wonderful as his.
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foxtrot91 · 2 days
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shovel talk
“So,” Maddie says, eyes squinting as she looks Tommy over, wine glass cradled in one hand while the other rests on her hip. 
They’re in the hallway of Bobby and Athena’s new place, and Tommy doesn’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s catching him in the bathroom hallway just as Tommy’s about to return to the party. Remembering another conversation at another party, he suddenly wishes he was holding a slice of cake; though he gets the feeling Maddie wouldn’t be easily deflected with it, Hen certainly wasn’t. 
“Are you looking for the bathroom?” He asks instead, tossing a glance behind him. “It’s right over there, second on the left.” 
He gives her his best grin; just because he knows this conversation is inevitable doesn’t mean he has to make it easy on her. Her eyebrows raise and Tommy thinks someone so small shouldn’t give him the same feeling as being dressed down by his sergeant once did. He hopes for Chim’s sake that he doesn’t find himself in the doghouse too often. 
“So,” she says again, ignoring his directions to the bathroom. “I was just thinking that we haven’t really had a chance to properly meet.”
“Oh,” Tommy says, still suspicious about where this conversation is going. “I guess we haven’t.”
It’s true, it’s only been a couple months since he and Evan got together and between their differing schedules and the drama going on behind the scenes at the 118, there hadn’t been much time for larger get togethers. For the most part, Tommy and Evan have either spent their time just the two of them or hanging out with Eddie in an effort to keep his mind off of Christopher’s departure. Which, thank god that has since been resolved, for awhile there Eddie had been a bit of a basket case. There had been the wedding, of course, but even a normal wedding doesn’t leave time for the bride and groom to spend much time with individual guests, and there’s had been anything but normal. 
“You know, Buck was really nervous when he told me about you,” she says, eyes glittering as she looks him over before taking a sip of her wine. 
“Coming out to someone you care about will do that to a person,” Tommy says simply, eyebrow raised. 
“Of course,” she says with a soft chuckle before continuing, “it made me realize that he’s never told me about any of his other relationships before.” 
“Oh?”
“I mean, I knew they existed and I knew their names, but he never once talked about them, I barely even knew a thing about Ali. Even Taylor, she was his longest relationship and I barely heard a word about her. Then there’s Natalia who was barely a blip.” She pauses here and takes another sip from her wine before shifting her gaze back to Tommy. “Actually, there was one person I heard a lot about, even if I never got the chance to meet her.” 
“Abby,” Tommy says, figuring with what he knows of Evan’s relationship history that she’s a safe bet. 
“Mmhm,” she hums, nodding in agreement. “But since that first day he told me about you, you’re all he talks about now.” 
Tommy feels warmth bloom in his chest at that admission, the thought of Evan feeling happy and secure enough in their - admittedly young - relationship to talk about it with others leaves him feeling pleased. 
“It kind of reminds me of how he was with Abby, actually,” she continues, “before he’d accepted that she was gone I got to hear all about her, almost felt like I knew her.” There’s a bit of a wistful edge to her voice, though Tommy can tell it’s less about Abby and more about Evan's happiness. “He hasn’t been that way with anyone since, at not least until now. So I guess you could say that as his big sister I thought I'd better check to make sure that he’s not going to wake up one day and find you’ve suddenly discovered a burning desire to – I don’t know, Amelia Earhart your way around the world and leave him behind.” 
Her voice grows firmer on that last bit as she pins Tommy with her gaze, eyebrow raised. Despite the teasing edge still present in her voice, Tommy can tell she’s serious, and truthfully, he can’t say he blames her. Eddie once told him over a shared six-pack that Evan has abandonment issues the size of the moon, and everything he’s learned about his past relationships - both romantic and familial - supports that. If Evan has avoided talking about past girlfriends, Tommy wonders if it had anything to do with a fear that they’d leave him behind too. He wonders what that says about the fact that he apparently talks about Tommy with those closest to him.
“Well, if it makes you feel any better, Amelia Earhart's disappearance is a pretty strong deterrent for that. Also— can’t do Muay Thai in the sky,” he says, unable to resist responding with his own personal brand of humour. Maddie doesn’t respond during the pause he takes to gather his thoughts, her face giving nothing away. “But... the truth is, that I can’t tell you the future, I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, let alone six months from now.” He pauses, suddenly wishing he had his own glass of wine to occupy his hands as he contemplates his next words. “What I can tell you is that I didn’t step into this lightly, and that I care about him a lot.” He takes a moment to let the truth of that sink in before adding, “and for what it’s worth, if you talked to any of my friends, I’m pretty sure they’d tell you the same thing, which is that I talk about Evan so much that they’re probably sick of hearing about him now.” It's true, Sal barely manages to repress the eyeroll whenever Evan's name comes up, and Angela and Jenkins have started a drinking game during Trivia Night based on how often Tommy says his name. It's made them terrible at trivia. 
The beat of silence that passes between he and Maddie isn't exactly uncomfortable, but he does find himself holding his breath a little wondering if he passed. He has the idle thought that she’d be good at poker with how little she’s giving away with her facial expression. But then, a smile stretches over her face, and Tommy finds himself sighing in relief. This was different than his talk with Hen and Karen that had obviously been more teasing in nature. While Maddie may have done a good job in keeping her tone overall light, Tommy’s under no delusions that she wasn’t serious in sizing Tommy up to determine if he was fit to date her brother.
“Good,” she says simply, and then tilts her head slightly towards the kitchen. “I need a top-up, and you seem like you could use a glass, have a drink with me?”
“Absolutely,” Tommy agrees, his own grin stretching across his face.
He follows Maddie into the kitchen where she grabs a second glass for him before pulling out the wine she and Chim brought – a merlot – and pouring him a glass before topping off her own.
“So, you’re a pilot,” she says, a statement, not a question.
“I am.”
“Could be handy having a pilot in the family,” she comments, eyes twinkling, “Chim said you flew Eddie to Vegas.”
It's said nonchalantly, with a hint of expectation but before he can respond, Evan’s rounding the corner, clearly having heard at least part of their conversation. “Oh no,” he groans, “you do not get to commandeer my pilot boyfriend so that you and Chim can have some private date weekend in Vegas.”
“I said no such thing,” Maddie claims, hands raised, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter.
“But you thought it,” Evan says accusingly.
Tommy watches them, barely suppressing his own laughter as he grabs a potato-chip from a nearby bowl to munch on. He lets them go back and forth, trading verbal jabs in the way all siblings do before he takes his moment to jump in.
“I’d be happy to fly your sister to Vegas,” Tommy says, grinning at Evan’s indignant look and Maddie’s triumphant one.
“Thank you,” she says, voice overly sweet as she pats Tommy on the hand before picking up her glass. She starts towards the door, presumably to rejoin the others, but he doesn’t miss it when she leans in and whispers to Evan, “he’s a keeper,” before smacking a kiss to his cheek as she heads out the door. Evan’s face softens at Maddie’s approval, and Tommy’s does too.
Evan joins him at the table, cheeks pink as he swipes Tommy’s glass to steal a sip.
“You disappeared on me,” he says, looking up at Tommy. “How bad was it? She give you the third degree?”
“It wasn’t bad at all,” Tommy says honestly, “I like that you have people who care.”
“Hm,” is all he says, though Tommy can tell he’s at least a little pleased by it too. “Still, we need to have a talk about how you’re supposed to take my side in arguments with my sister,” he adds, semi-serious.
Laughing, Tommy stands from his seat and comes around the table, offering Evan his hand before pulling him back towards the door. “Evan, the only useful relationship advice my dad ever gave me was to ‘get in good with the family.’” He adds air-quotes and deepens his voice for effect. “Of course, he thought my relationships would look a lot different, but the advice is still solid,” he says, before adding, “besides, I like your sister, and flying Maddie and Chim to Vegas for a weekend would also mean flying you and I there.”
Evan perks up at that, “yeah?”
“Separate hotel rooms, of course,” Tommy adds, letting his smile take on a suggestive edge as they open the door to the balcony.
“Separate hotels,” Evan says, his own lascivious smile spreading across his face.
Whatever their faces are doing as they join the others must make it obvious what they’re both thinking about because the next thing he hears is Chim saying; “Mm, I don’t like that look, too reminiscent of Buck 1.0. Does anyone have a spray bottle? Gotta squirt him like an overgrown tomcat before he gets outta control.”
Tommy lets the subsequent laughter at Evan’s indignant squawk envelop him, somewhere in the background he hears Christopher question what Buck 1.0 means and Eddie insisting he doesn’t want to know. Tommy finds he’s enjoying himself, even if the laughter is at their expense. He wasn’t lying to Evan when he’d told him before that he’d been jealous of the family the 118 had become but for once, Tommy isn’t jealous. He doesn’t need to be, because this time he’s a part of it.
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hi! what about jjk characters (or any characters) squeezing yn to tight in their sleep and yn wakes up. it can maybe be because of a nightmare and yn comforts them 🫠🫠
Tight Hugs with Nanami and Gojo
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Gojo Satoru
Gojo doesn't usually have nightmares. Hell, that man is so tired that he barely gets to dream at all. But what Gojo usually does and by usually I mean all the time, is that he hugs you. He is a huge cuddler and loves to be both the big spoon and the little spoon, depending on his mood. Due to his height and overall physique, it isn't really uncommon for him to be the big spoon, with your back pressed against his chest while the two of you are laying on your sides.
But Gojo sometimes doesn't really control himself. He is not really at fault because, in his defense, you make him relax and subsequently let his guard down. And usually his body is tense, yes using his Limitless technique has become a second nature to him but that doesn't really mean that he doesn't get tired from time to time. That being said, his muscles tend to get tense a lot.
"Satoru..." you groaned and turned around, making an effort to push him away from you.
"I said I am sorry." He let out a chuckle that came out ruspier than he intended since he had just woken up. It wasn't the first time Gojo had decided to stretch his arms while having them wrapped around you. He never meant any harm, he would just genuinely forget and squeeze you a little too tight for your comfort.
Rolling your eyes, you wrapped your arms around him this time, effectively making him the little spoon since the only way to save yourself from this man and his strange sleeping habits would only be if you were in control.
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Nanami Kento
Nanami comes home from work completely exhausted. There's not a single part of him that doesn't need to relax. While you often help him with providing him with a nice massage during which he gets to talk about his day, it's not like you can do much about the mental part.
He doesn't get nightmares often but when he does, they can be pretty intense, fully inspired by all the horrors he daily deals with at work. Since most of the time the two of you sleep while cuddling each other, you can't help but find yourself to be a 'victim' of his nightmares.
"Nanami..." You gently shake his shoulders and this time he does wake up. His forehead is covered in sweat, the only sign that showed he had just had a nightmare. That and the fact that he had squeezed you to tight.
Nanami, on his side, knew exactly why you woke him up. It wasn't the first time he had done it and it bothered him a little because he had promised himself that he would try to control it even though it wasn't something one cannot control. "Sorry, my love. It was just a nightmare, hm?" He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead before covering you up with the blanket once more. "Let's go back to sleep, I defeated the curse in my dream anyways."
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utopianparadoxist · 2 days
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Hey guys! As a treat, I thought I'd provide some context for this seemingly random line Davepeta gives us in the latest upd8.
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So It turns out this is a reference to a catchphrase used by Higurashi: When They Cry character Rika Furude, which is later used in that series' spiritual successor, Umineko: When they Cry. Imagine my surprise when this update dropped right as I was in the middle of writing the first Homestuck article I've posted in years, where I actually talk about some of Umineko's themes!
In Umineko, the line is specifically spoken by the Great Witch of Miracles, Bernkastel, a character who operates very much like an Ultimate Self incarnation of Rika Furude:
youtube
Current Homestuck: Beyond Canon contributor @mr-foods has done some spectacular Umineko fanart that's very worth checking out, so I guess it's not too surprising to see an in-text shout out.
But also, if you're looking for something to dig into in between Homestuck^2 updates, Umineko could be a good pick! Especially considering notable Homestuck YouTuber @nezumiva is just wrapping up her stream series where she voice acts the entire series live in a truly spectacular live performance. making it more accessible than ever.
And Umineko and Homestuck share some nearly jarring thematic similarities!
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https://www.tumblr.com/mr-foods/758726208161792000?source=share
In particular, Umineko's structure lends itself very well to further imagining the Ultimate Self, with some characters existing "outside the game board" and treating the reality of the story as a metaphorical chess set, reusing the pieces that are the main cast--even including alternate piece versions of themselves-- in different ways over and over to tell different versions of the same story, in an effort to uncover the truth at the heart of the tale's mystery.
As I watch it draw to a close through Nezumi, I can also say that Umineko is one of the most heartfelt and moving narratives I've ever read, and has some spectacular musical bangers like Bernkastel's main theme, and several tracks that sound pretty damn Homestucky.
That's all for now. Let me know if you check Umineko out! Til next time, keep rising.
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maskedbyghost · 7 hours
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lets continue our talk about situationship!Simon, where this bitch grovels for monthssss
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situationship!simon starts sending you text messages. before you could expect something like "you up?" or "come to my office.", but after you broke things off with him, simon started sending you heartfelt text messages, apologizing for his past behavior. “i’ve been thinking a lot about what happened between us,” he texted one night. “i realize now how much i hurt you, and i’m truly sorry, love. i understand if you need space, but i wanted you to know how much i regret everything.”
along with his messages, simon started sending you small but meaningful gifts. he remembered how you’d joked about his tea obsession once and that you’d mentioned you only liked chamomile. to your surprise, he found the best brand of chamomile tea and even packed it in a nice box before delivering it to your room.
he even started to open up more. during a late-night phone call, where you could clearly hear that he was drunk, simon said that he started seeing a therapist. “i’m workin on understandin my issues and changin for the better. i want to be better, not just for you love, but for myself. i hope you can see that i’m tryin to change.”
when you asked him to stop calling you love, he refused. “i can’t help it. you’re mine in a way no one else could be, and i don’t want to pretend otherwise.”
as simon keeps showing up with gifts and heartfelt messages, you can’t help but wonder if he’s being real or if he’s just trying to win you back before breaking your heart again.
you still go on dates with other people, and simon is tormented every time he sees you leaving the base in those pretty dresses—dresses he wishes were just for him. he follows you, quietly lurking in the corners of the restaurants or bars where you’re out with your dates. oddly enough, most of the guys you go out with either get transferred to another base or stop calling you after just one date, and you’re doing your best not to blame simon for it. but you know it's him. and he is not sorry at all.
almost every day, simon texts you, asking you out on dates and planning special things for the who of you. all you have to do is say yes, but each time, you refuse. it breaks his heart every time, but it also makes him more determined to try even harder. he knows he deserves this treatment from you.
back when you and simon used to train together on base, it was a special routine you both enjoyed. now, you’ve started asking other guys to help you with exercises, and it drives him wild with jealousy. watching their hands on you makes him see red. after your training sessions with them, simon invites these guys to spar with him. it quickly becomes clear that he’s using these sparring matches as a chance to take out his frustration and anger, landing a few extra hits just to make his point.
despite everything, you still won’t budge, and it’s only making simon more frustrated. the truth is, it’s becoming harder and harder for you to resist him. his persistence is wearing you down, and the more he pushes, the more you find yourself struggling to stay strong.
simon invites you to one of his therapy sessions, saying his therapist thinks it would be helpful for him and his progress. during the session, he opens up about his struggles and insecurities, laying everything bare. as he talks, you start to feel sympathy for him. it’s clear he’s determined to change and work on himself, and you see how genuine his efforts are.
one night, you were preparing tea in the kitchen when a girl you know from the base asked for simon’s number. she mentioned she was interested in him, which made you jealous. you snapped at her, making it clear that he would never be interested in a girl like her. simon overheard the whole thing and couldn’t help but smirk to himself. it was clear you still had feelings for him, and he took a bit of satisfaction in that.
later that night he sent one simple message to you: "that's my girl. i belong to you, and you only."
after that message, simon stepped up his game. he started sending you lots of sweet texts and little gifts, and even took care of some of your paperwork. it was hard to ignore how much he was trying, and you found it tougher to resist him as he kept showing you how much he cared.
a few months after managing to ignore simon as best as you could, you caught a nasty cold and were stuck in your room. you only texted price to let him know you needed a few days off because you were sick, and got back in your bed trying to sleep that cold off. a few hours later, as you were still trying to fall asleep, you heard your door open. simon walked in, carrying a bunch of bags, a worried look on his face.
“i came as soon as I could,” simon said, worry in his voice. “i brought you soup and medicine.”
simon didn’t leave your side for days. he only went back to his room to grab more clothes and shower. he was insistent on helping you with everything, even assisting you with your showers in the most respectful way possible of course. he’d sit in a chair next to your bed, and you felt a pang of guilt seeing how much he was giving up for you. you even tried to convince him to go get some rest, but despite your protests, he somehow ended up in your bed, gently spooning you as you slept.
simon would whisper sweet things in your hair, thinking you were asleep. you heard every word as he softly talked about how much he missed you, how sorry he was for everything, and how he wanted to make things right. even though you were sick and exhausted, his words touched you deeply.
once you were feeling better, you found simon sitting alone in a common room, lost in thought. you approached him quietly and gently kissed the side of his face. with a soft smile, you whispered, “take me on that date you promised.”
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@daydreamerwoah
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vodika-vibes · 2 days
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A Joint Effort
Summary: When Crosshair’s girlfriend asks him to pick up some pads for her, he crowdsources a solution.
Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader
Word Count: 1300
Warnings: Mentions of periods, Crosshair is an asshole
A/N: This was born by an ask by @photolover40 and I couldn't get the idea out of my head.
Click HERE to be added to my Taglist
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Crosshair yawns widely as he slowly meanders down the path from the house he shares with his brothers towards his girlfriend’s home. He could get there faster if he took a speeder, but it’s a nice day.
And Tech took the speeder apart for reasons.
Tech couldn’t, or maybe wouldn’t, tell him why he was taking the speeder apart, but Crosshair knows his twin. He’s either doing it because Phee said something to him that got him flustered and now he needs time to process, or because he’s planning on entering the speeder in a race.
Personally, he’d put credits on Phee.
He pauses when his comm chimes. It’s a cheerful little tune that he would never use if you paid him, but it’s the song his girlfriend loves the most right now, and so she insisted that he use it as his ringtone for her.
She’s lucky she’s cute, honestly.
“What?” Crosshair asks as he answers the holo.
“Is that any way to talk to your loving girlfriend?” He glances at her, and notices, immediately, that she’s lying on her bed. Specifically on her stomach on her bed, and it looks like she’s curled around a pillow.
His lips twitch up in a ghost of a smile, “Sorry, I thought you were my other girlfriend.”
She gasps theatrically, “I bet I’m cuter than her.”
His smile grows slightly, “I definitely like you more.”
“And the victory goes to me!”
Crosshair can’t help the fond laugh that falls from him as she rolls and pumps her fist in the air, “Did you need something, sarad? I’m already on my way to your place.”
She rolls back over and pulls her comm closer to her face, “Can you run by the store for me?”
“...why?”
“I’m out of pain medicine…and pads.”
Crosshair sighs heavily, already planning on the route that he’ll take to get to the store and then to her as quickly as possible, “You get your period monthly, kitten. How do you run out of pads?”
She makes a face, “Because I get it monthly, that’s how.”
“No.”
Her lower lip juts out in a pout, “Pllllease Cross? Pretty please?”
“It doesn’t matter how attractive the please is, I still won’t do it.”
She blinks at him and then shoots him a disgusted look, “You sound like Tech.” Crosshair can’t help the startled laugh that falls from him at that. “It’s fine, I guess. I’ll make it work. You said you’ll be here soon?”
“Soonish,” Crosshair corrects, a feeling of fondness welling up inside him. Force, he really does love her so much, “I decided to walk.”
Her nose scrunches up adorably, “Why?”
“Some people like physical activity, kitten.”
“Ew.”
He laughs again, “I’ll see you when I get there.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
She smiles at him, all soft and warm and loving, “Alright. I’ll see you then. Love you, Cross.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
“Rude!” Still, her smile doesn’t fade as she disconnects the holo, so Crosshair isn’t all that worried that she’s actually upset at him. With that in mind, he shoves his comm back in his pocket and turns down the street to head to the shop.
10 minutes later, he finds himself standing in front of a wall of pink and purple. He already has her pain medicine, as well as some chocolate and some of those lemon bars that she loves so much. Plus a plush skeleton that he found near the medicine.
All that’s left is the actual pads.
Now, he’s not an idiot. He knows that his sarad prefers pads over tampons, she mentioned it to him once after they watched a tampon commercial. He also knows that she doesn’t like the scented stuff. 
But that’s where his knowledge stops.
He picks up a pink box and scans the front, “Light flow? Overnight?” He sets the box down and picks up another box, “Panty liners? What’s the difference?”
Crosshair sets the box back and then folds his arms.
One the one hand, he could call his Kitten and ask what ones she wanted. On the other hand, if he does that then he won’t be able to surprise her. And he likes surprising her, her face lights up and she giggles and twirls in place and then kisses him until he’s breathless—
Asking her is out of the question.
He digs his comm out of his pocket and scrolls through his contacts, and then presses the button that will connect him to his twin.
“Crosshair? Is something wrong?”
“I need you to tell me what the difference it between pads for light flow, overnight, and panty liners.”
“...what?”
Crosshair sighs, “I’m picking up some stuff for my girl, will you help or won’t you?”
“Crosshair, I am not a woman, I do not know the answer.” Tech replies, “But we can ask Hunter and Wrecker. They might know.” Crosshair rolls his eyes, unable to help himself, as he waits for Tech to go inside and gather their other brothers.
“Shouldn’t ya buy a box of tampons? Isn’t that what women use?” Wrecker asks a moment later, after Tech explains the situation, “I was told that only teenagers use pads.”
“That’s not right,” Crosshair counters, “Where are you getting your information from?”
“Uh…online forums?”
“You should read other forums,” Tech says to Wrecker, “I have some links for you.”
“Oh, neat—”
“Shouldn’t you know what she uses?” Hunter asks as he wrestles the comm from Tech, “I mean, you’re dating her.”
“I have better things to do than search her cabinets for feminine hygiene products, Hunter.” Crosshair snarks.
Hunter nods, “Well, I know she doesn’t use scented ones.”
“No, she doesn’t.” Crosshair pauses, and then glares at his older brother, “How do you know that?”
“I can smell—”
Crosshair glares even harder.
“You know what, I’m removing myself from this conversation.” Hunter says after a moment, “And I’m calling in the expert.”
“What?”
“OMEGA!”
A few moments later, Omega’s face appears on the Holo, “Hi Cross!”
“Kid.”
“You should get regular,” Omega says without prompting, “Let me see the wall?” Crosshair turns so she can scan the wall, “Um…oh! There. Down near the bottom, a black box?”
“I see it.”
“That’s a pretty good brand, and they’re thin enough to be comfortable without sacrificing any protection.” Omega nods, “You should buy those. Even if they’re not her brand, they’ll work until she can get her brand.”
“Thanks, kid, you’re much less useless than the others.”
Omega beams at him, “Thanks! I’m going now. Good luck!”
And then the comm closes, and Crosshair releases a relieved sigh as he shoves it back into his pocket. Omega saves the day. He should buy her something nice.
Later, though. Right now he’s busy.
20 minutes later, he’s using his key to get into his kitten’s home, “I’m here!”
There are light footsteps from deeper in the house, and then her head pokes out from the kitchen, “You’re here!”
“I told you I’d be here soonish.” He holds up the bag, “Here.”
She tilts her head, curious.
“One chocolate bar. One stuffed animal. One bottle of pain medicine. And one box of pads.” Crosshair lists.
And, true to his expectations, her entire face brightens when she sees his surprise. A delighted giggle falls from her lips and she twirls, happily, into his arms, and flings her arms around his neck.
“I thought you said you wouldn’t!” She says with a bright grin as she stands on her toes and bumps her nose against his.
“I wanted to surprise you.”
“I am surprised!”
Crosshair flashes a tiny grin, “Good.” He’s not able to say anything more, as she closes the small distance between their lips and kisses him deeply. 
And this, right here, is why Crosshair loves surprising her.
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@imabeautifulbutterfly
@n0vqni
@bad4amficideas
@justiceandwar98
@Mira-Loves-Star-Wars
@tiredbi-peach
@dukeoftheblackstar
@trixie2023
@kimiheartblade
@padawancat97
@falconfeather23435
@etod
@bb8-99
@kiss-anon
@continous-mistakes
@yoitsjay
@liz-stat
@cc--2224
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smallpwbbles · 3 days
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Learning
Finally got this one-shot finished, I know I keep talking about how I don't expect these stories to be as long as they are when I start writing but I am just flabbergasted I could write 9k in two days. Uni pebbles could never.
Anyway take this fic going over some of Maria and biolizard Shadow's time on the ARK
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Maria Robotnik knew many things about herself, her favourite colour was blue, she loved to read and draw, she’d prefer to pour the milk in her bowl before the cereal cause it’d get soggy faster otherwise and she really loved to look out the windows of the ARK observatory. 
The planet earth looked like such a small little thing from the view she was granted, but as she stood in the gigantic room, aboard the space colony, the little blue ball of earth gave her hope. Hope that someday she’d be away from the machinery and labs that did nothing but fill her with apprehension. 
She yearned for the many things her grandfather Gerald told her stories about, to feel the grass between her feet, to smell the air of the oceans. These fantasies made her feel warm and filled her with that hope, but woefully, Maria knew one other thing about herself. 
She was sick.
Maria Robotnik was a victim of disease and it slowly worked to hinder the small hope she garnered as she looked out the windows of the observatory. With every burst of excitement that came as Gerlad told his stories of the earth, came the concerning reminders of her sickness as she felt her lungs strain when she overworked herself. Maria wished she could run without feeling like her legs would collapse on her at any second, or sleep a good night's rest without worrying she’d wake up with a fever. 
But it was sad to say, she had to make due with these things. Maria believed this would be the routine of her life, until she was informed about her grandfather's latest project, she heard many of his scientists rave and rant about this project when Gerald didn’t think she was listening in. But Maria was a sneaky little thing when she wanted to be, unfortunately the most she was able to gather were inklings of a “ultimate life form”, whatever that meant. 
Her interest boiled over when her grandfather sat her down one night, he was absolutely buzzed with excitement and told her of all his findings, research and effort to find a cure for illness. Maria felt despondent when it came to her sickness, it was a horrible, disgusting, parasitic thing that was taking everything from her, but she was beginning to come to a sort of term where she’d just live with it. Her grandfather had already been doing so much with no results so she couldn’t help her apathy towards Gerald’s enthusiasm.
Though it did have something to do with that ultimate life form thing she had eavesdropped on, the perfect being that would have all the answers to all diseases? She didn’t doubt that her grandfather could do amazing with his intelligence, they were Robotniks! It was in their DNA to do great things. But the idea of something that could achieve feats as grand as curing all diseases was quite ludicrous. Maria kept that to herself as she didn’t want to curb her grandfather's elation. 
There wasn’t much on the project for her after that, Maria kept on with her stagnant life for many months, going from the usuals rounds of feeling normal to sudden long visits to the infirmary. It was a sad existence and Maria knew this, but it was the only existence she knew for herself. Maybe it was quite crazy to think this but better her than anyone else, she wouldn’t wish such a life on her worst enemy. 
The blond girl walked down the long corridors of the labs, she wasn’t really allowed to do so without permission but what her grandfather and the scientists didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them. The corridors were dull and grey, she wished Gerald would allow her to maybe put up some drawings or just some cute decor, it did get boring walking down such drab walls. She was talking it slow as she was recovering from a recent fall, Maria had no idea what caused the spike in her temperature and neither did the scientists, it amazed her how quick her body could be to hinder itself.
The steely doors to Gerald’s private lab were presented in front of her, she pressed an ear to the door, lately when she took to creeping around the labs she could hear rushed voices and shuffling about, it was clear there was something pretty important happening as of late, Gerald had been quite absent from the recreation rooms and just in general. The last time she’d seen him was a couple days ago and he had that look she’d seen before, he was about to break through with something, she was sure. 
The code box to the right of the doors tempted her, she knew the code. A peek into his labs wouldn’t hurt. 
Maria meticulously entered her birthdate with the right keys, she was sure literally everyone knew the code but didn’t enter into restricted areas out of respect for principle. The doors slid apart and Maria felt a cold air flow around her body, there was nobody in the lab which worked heavily in her favour. 
Her heels clicked as she walked into the labs, there were notes strewn about and many coffee cups standing or thrown on top of the worktops, the amount of cups she saw told her an unhealthy amount of coffee was consumed in this room, however what caught her immediate attention was the middle of the room, she’d been the private lab before and was never presented with the gigantic test tube flowing with whatever green liquid was in there. 
The most important discovery of her observation was a little creature floating in the tube. Maria hesitantly approached the glass cylinder to get a closer look, the little thing was a hedgehog of sorts? Maria couldn’t safely say that as the little greyish black creature was full of a lot of red scales and had quite a long tail, almost as big as its entire torso. Though there  was one thing she couldn’t deny about the creature, it was stinking adorable.
“Maria?!” A voice yelled behind her, she felt her heart leap into her throat as she whipped around to find the source of the yell. Gerald was standing in front of the doors, he held a coffee cup in his wrinkly hand and looked absolutely swamped. “What are you doing here?! I was so worried when your caretaker said she couldn’t find you” 
“Oh- uh, Grandfather I’m sorry I just-“ her words fumbled about, she didn’t really have a good reason for being in here other than she got bored and missed her grandfather “I just… haven’t seen you in a bit and was wondering what the fuss was in your lab”
The old man sighed, he wasn’t mad at her, just concerned she was missing in the entire ark for a moment, he was just realising how scarce he himself had become from Maria and felt a tiny bit like a hypocrite “I apologise Maria, it’s just been quite hectic with the project”. 
“Are you the one with all these empty coffee cups grandfather” she questioned, the old man blushed at the accusation as he also hadn’t realised the ridiculous amount of caffeine he’d consumed in the past week let alone the past day, he decided he wouldn’t worry Maria with that fact though. 
“No, just the one” he shook the paper cup in his hand with emphasis. 
Maria seemed satisfied with that answer and turned her eyes back to the tube. Gerald hoped he could present this project when it was actually ready but he overestimated his granddaughter's patience. He walked to join Maria in front of the glass tube and put a hand to its surprisingly warm exterior.
“This, Maria, is project shadow” he announced, the little creature in the tube twitched at his voice but made no other movements, its eyes were screwed shut, it would move its head every so often slightly to the noises of the machinery that surrounded the labs. It scrunched up its itty bitty snout and Maria fought with the power of her ancestors to hold back a squeal. 
“This is to be your ultimate perfect creature grandfather?” The blond girl looked up at the old scientist, her tone sounded incredulous to Gerald.
“All that and more Maria, what do you think?” The scientist asked.
“Well that makes sense, it’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life” Maria concluded.
Gerald raised a brow “Maria, my darling, it’s not the perfect creature because it’s cute”. While Gerald could agree his creature was small and therefore looked seemingly harmless, he felt a bit defensive at the idea that he had worked these many months to make a creature with the grand potential this one contained only to have it be called “cute”.
“Grandfather if you didn’t want me calling it cute you shouldn’t have made it cute” the girl lightly chided, she was just riling up the old man but she then watched as the tiny thing yawned, it had one little fang poking out of its gums and she almost started crying at the absolute adorableness of the tiny hedgehog, lizard thing.
“It has not finished growing Maria, we’re currently having Shadows growth accelerated as we are quite behind on the time frame of the project” Gerald explained.
“Shadow?” Maria looked to her grandfather “is that what your calling it” she asked 
“I think it’s quite a fitting name, its fur is actually going to look much darker in the next coming months” Gerald felt a bit shaken from all the caffeine he’d consumed and was going to double check on the validity of that claim later. 
“Shadow” she repeated as she watched the small thing float in the tube, she’d only just met the creature, but she loved him. Maria couldn’t explain the feeling that began warming her heart as she watched the infant in the tube, but she was reminded of how she felt when she looked down at the blue planet from time to time. 
It was that feeling that reminded her that not all was hopeless.
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Maria thanked the lady, who was entrusted with the duty of cafeteria leader today, as she was handed a few chocolate chip cookies. The plump lady was called Barb, she believed. Maria did her best to remember everyone she could on the ARK but her little 11 year old brain could only remember so many names. 
Barb was her favourite in the cafeteria because when Maria was on her best behaviour she’d be rewarded with treats from the kind lady, though today, as she carefully deposited the cookies in her pockets, she knew the treats would be of need for emergency use.
Shadow had grown considerably in the many months after Maria invited herself to Gerald’s lab and met the black creature for the first time. As an infant he wasn’t much bigger than her hands, and from time to time Gerald would give special permission for Shadow to be allowed out of his tube for closer inspection and testing. Once Maria had the chance to hold the tiny thing, she cradled him like a baby as he cooed and hiccuped in her arms. She thought she would ascend to heaven on the spot, he really was the cutest thing. 
Unfortunately he had grown too fast and much too big for her to do such a thing now, he was also a very quick learner as Shadow was quite cognizant, it was like there was a fast forward on the creature's ability to learn as he picked up on things just from observing. Teaching Shadow basic knowledge was a breeze for Gerald and his scientists and so it was for Maria, she mainly taught Shadow his manners and how to pull the perfect puppy doe eyes to sway people to get what you want. 
Maria loved discovering the facets of the little hedgehog’s personality, he soaked up the praise of all the scientists and other people aboard the ark when he did something asked of him successfully, Shadow didn’t talk much but Maria was sure if he did he’d be bragging a lot as he was starting to get a bit of an ego. 
The blond girl patted at the cookies in her pocket as she made her way to her accommodations, the current emergency she tasked herself with solving was due Shadows hubris ending up getting him into trouble, he’d recently joined Maria in her private studies with Gerald. The little creature was smart and Maria couldn’t deny that but she wouldn't say he was smarter than her grandfather. Shadow thought otherwise as the lesson she thought she’d be fighting sleep to get through turned into two people trying to one up the other.
The black hedgehog lizard stubbornly tried to correct the old man on a simple innocuous problem that Gerald wrote on the black board for him and Maria to solve. The scientist however was just as stubborn as he stood his ground that the answer he’d written next to the problem, right after Maria gave up on it, was in fact correct and Shadow needed to knock it off. It had been amusing at first watching the little hedgehog wipe off the chalk and rewrite the answer but as the two kept bickering, Maria just wanted to slam her face into her desk. How she wished she snuck in her sketchpad into today's lesson.
Shadow had edged towards a tantrum and absolutely lost his nerve when Maria intervened and begged him to give up in his pursuit to be right. Gerald had just face palmed when the hedgehog ran away clearly feeling ganged up on “I put way too much of us robotnik's into that boy”.
Maria had to agree, because now she was in her room trying to coax Shadow out from under her bed. The little guy always hid out under her berth when he was upset, Maria could recall doing so herself at a younger age. Despite probably being mad at the blond girl for not taking his side, he couldn’t help but seek out comfort in the darkness from underneath her bed.
“Shadow? Won’t you come out please” Maria begged, she bent down and poked a hand under the covers that hid the darkness underneath her bed, in response Shadow swiped at her fingers as she quickly pulled them back. She noticed his claws were unsheathed when he swiped, he was clearly really upset. 
“Sorry, sorry I won’t make you come out if you don’t want to” the girl apologised, she did however retrieve a cookie from her pocket and placed it right in front of the space Shadow was occupying, she sat on her knees patiently and waited to see if he’d take the bait. 
She watched as a clawed furred and scaly hand slowly revealed itself from the darkness, it quickly swiped at the cookie and brought it into the darkness. Maria waited a few seconds, it usually took Shadow a minute to come out of the covers after being given a bribe. 
Just as she had predicted, Shadow poked out his head to make eye contact with her, his face seemed a little red and his muzzle was tear stained. She opened up her arms inviting Shadow to come into her embrace. 
The little creature hesitated for a second before nearly bowling her over with how quickly he crawled into her arms, Maria brought her arms to cradle to him, he certainly wasn’t a baby anymore as he came up to about her waist height wise but she couldn’t help but still try cradle him like one, she even rocked slightly as that always seemed to help calm him when he was like this. 
She brought a hand up to his head to stroke at his quills, it was a weird feeling as her hand caressed his spines to his scales, she wondered what it was like to be a mammal yet also reptilian. She could feel Shadow begin to purr slightly, Maria wouldn’t say it around the black hedgehog but he was the cutest thing, he’d grown tired of her calling him that after about the fifteenth time so she made a point to only do in her head now. 
“You are so smart Shadow but if you have something to prove you shouldn’t just blindly argue with Grandfather, he’s as stubborn as you and won’t listen if you do that” she scolded the hedgehog.
Shadow looked up at her, his face was flat as he didn’t look like he wanted to be lectured at that moment, but Maria didn’t want him arguing with her grandfather, it made studying much worse than it could already be sometimes.
The hedgehog instead nuzzled his face into her waist, she wasn’t sure if he had acknowledged what she just said but her attention was taken off his apathetic attitude to the pile of scales that lay on her skirt, probably pulled off as he rubbed his head into her torso, she picked at one and held it to her face.
“Gosh you're shedding a lot, I hope you're not getting bigger, you're already hard enough to hold at this size” she complained, the hedgehog on her lap looked unstirred by the idea. 
She wondered how she was going to get him to apologise to Gerald for ending studies early due to his little outburst, shadow looked like he’d rather take a nap right in her lap and he looked rather adorable so she was edging towards letting him. Maria calmed her thoughts as she decided she’d let the hedgehog off just for today. She was sure her grandfather was making himself busy somewhere and probably already put the tantrum aside.
The girl began to stroke at the little hedgehog's head of quills and Shadow in response started up his purring again. Everything would be fine.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Everything was not fine, it had all started going downhill a couple months after that incident during studies. Maria wondered if there was some higher power or something that just wanted a laugh and made Maria and her loved ones the victims for some hardships that began taking place.
Shadow by all accounts was a perfect being or at least should have been, he was strong, fast, could harness this power that Maria was told was chaos energy. He healed so quickly after even the largest injuries, most of which he would get during tests that Maria was not well informed about. However the scientist couldn’t have foreseen the extent of Shadow's progress.
The hedgehog grew, the escalation of his size was alarming at first. He began reaching the torsos of many average height humans on the ARK, the alarm turned to panic when he shot up well past that overnight. Becoming double the height of even the average person of Shadows species had made the scientists scramble for answers, Gerald was absolutely stunned with the mutation Shadow developed. 
As the hedgehog did not stop growing, his body fought to keep up with the rate of enlargement. Shadow had  become poorly as a result of his heart struggling to provide sufficient blood flow around the body. He should have been fine but as his body kept increasing his heart had to constantly readjust to how much work was required to keep his blood flow steady. 
Maria hadn’t seen Shadow in some weeks as an outcome of this event. She sat on her desk as she struggled to gain motivation to draw. The pencil barely scratched at the paper of her sketch pad as her frustration grew, she chucked the pencil across the room and threw her head into her hands. 
She felt sick and not because of the aching disease that ate away at her cells, Shadow was in the labs being poked and prodded as the scientists did their best to keep him alive. It wasn’t supposed to be him in pain, wondering if he’d make it through the day. It should have been her like it always was. She had never wished this pain on anyone, so why was Shadow being punished because she couldn’t be well?
The page her pencil had only barely touched was ripped right off the metal spirals that held her sketchbook together. She tore the page into pieces, shoving all her frustrations into desecrating the empty page. The paper had done nothing wrong but Maria couldn’t think of anything else to alleviate all the negative thoughts that swarmed in her brain. 
She wanted to see Shadow so badly. Tell him it was all going to be okay, hold his hand in hers and just be there by his side. Maria didn’t even know if he was okay.
It was like the universe was listening to her, as the doors to her room abruptly opened, surprising her. She stood up to face the intruder, who happened to be Gerald. The old scientist looked rugged, it was clear he hadn’t had a good night's sleep, as evident from the bags under his eyes Maria could see even through his glasses. It seemed the old man was about to greet her but Maria’s voice was faster than her manners “grandfather, is shadow-“
“Settle down Maria” the scientist quickly interrupted whatever word vomit that was about to erupt from the girl. He walked over to her desk and placed a hand to her shoulder and guided the two of them to her bed to take a seat. “Shadow is stable, we’ve done everything we can for him for now, but only time will tell how he’ll recover”. 
“Did you figure out why he started growing so big, grandfather?” She couldn’t help but ask, it was part of the Robotnik charm being so curious. 
“There’s too many variables that we couldn’t point down, it could be his chaos energy, possibly something mutating with his additional lizard DNA, maybe even an effect of the accelerant we had him under, we aren’t too sure at the moment Maria my dear. Our focus was just stopping the growth before it got too much for Shadow to handle” Gerald explained, he felt irate at not being able to determine the main cause of Shadow's recent mutation. 
The hedgehog was a one of a kind being and Gerald couldn’t just watch Shadow waste away and start over. The scientist and his team had invested their lives into the project and Gerald’s attachment has grown too great. 
Maria looked down as she fiddled with her hands, she appreciated her grandfather for being honest with her about Shadow’s condition, even though the details wrenched her heart to hear. It was nothing compared to what shadow was most likely going through.
“May I see him?” her voice was quiet, she really didn’t expect Gerald to let her but she had to ask.
“Maria I don’t think that’s a good idea-“ she’d expected him to say that but it didn’t stop her from screwing her face, her eyes felt hot but she didn’t want any tears escaping them. 
“Please, please may I just see him grandfather” Maria turned to her Gerald, she had an idea of what her face looked like but she wasn’t even attempting an usual expression that would sway the old man, her face bore her anguish and the second Gerald looked down at her face he knew he didn’t have the strength to say no. 
The scientist sighed as he stood and placed a hand to offer, Maria would usually be jumping for joy at the success of being able to see Shadow when he was in the labs but this time when she took the scientist's aged hand, she was scared. She was afraid of what had become of Shadow, what would she come to find when she saw him she wondered. 
Her thoughts weren’t left unanswered for long, when Gerald had taken his granddaughter to the labs she was introduced to an entirely new section, it reminded her of the zoo she’d seen in a picture once. It was a gigantic space that had large windows that let people view from the outside which was where Gerald had taken her instead of directly Inside the enclosure. However what was inside the enclosure was a large beast, it was larger than large, it was huge to Maria. It was so huge she could hear the things breathing, It was very laboured and it made the girl feel sympathy.
It only took her a moment to identify the familiar black quills and red scales, she was flabbergasted that she was presented with Shadows presence in all his gigantic glory, she’d only not realised it was shadow because of how pale he looked as well as the fact that a behemoth lay in place instead of the three foot creature she was used to. 
Maria could just barely see his face which was currently covered by his arms, he looked flushed and his face kept crumpling in what she assumed to be pain, he was sleeping fitfully. A lump formed in her throat as she watched the beast lay there in suffering, she balled up her fists and before Gerald could do a thing she slammed her fists into the glass of the enclosure. 
Maria couldn’t think of a concrete reason for doing that, it wouldn’t have solved anything, slamming the glass wouldn’t have magically made Shadow better. Maybe she wanted to spread her pain literally anywhere that wasn’t just her, maybe the glass just looked really annoying and deserved the hit. All she knew after the fact was she really shouldn’t have slammed the glass. 
One of Shadows' gigantic and significantly fluffier ears perked up at the source of the noise and he painstakingly lifted his head in the direction of Maria and Gerald. The girl hadn’t even noticed her grandfather scolding her for attacking the glass as Shadow began making his way towards them, the windows they observed him from was at a notably higher higher platform than the one Shadows enclosure was built at, but the height difference was no problem for the hedgehog as his new height made it easier for him to cross the dissimilarity. 
Maria felt ashamed of the sudden fear that struck her as the monstrous hedgehog took earth shaking steps towards where she stood, Gerald had finally noticed as he watched the girl's face turn white and turned to the source of his granddaughter's fear. His eyes abruptly widened, Shadow was not meant to be up just yet. Gerald and his team had continuously worked for weeks to halt the upsurge of growth that literally could have killed Shadow had they not. An idea formed around the scientists to create something to inhibit Shadows powers as the hypothesis between them was that it was a combination of Chaos energy and Shadows overall unstable DNA that was mutating him 
Everyone was relieved when the  plan worked well in execution and the hedgehog had indeed stopped enlarging. Gerald had measured the hedgehog and Shadow was capped off at exactly about thirty-five feet. He now wore brown metal cuffs that were equipped with additional tools to monitor the hedgehog's condition. The old man thought they were quite an eyesore on his project so he declared the cuffs would be a prototype until he and his team could develop something better, given that Shadows rapid increase in size was quite abrupt and his team had to act quickly.
“Maria stand behind me” Gerald commanded, the girl was frozen in place as Shadow haphazardly placed a claw to the window of the enclosure right in front of where she stood. His claw was so huge he could crush her in seconds if he wanted, Maria scolded herself for such a thought. Shadow would never do so. She felt her arm being tugged as she was carefully pulled behind her grandfather, he pulled a device from his pocket that Maria couldn’t really identify until she heard him talk into it. His voice was low and calm but she could hear a spike of panic in it.
Her attention was taken away from the old man when she heard creaking, and then cracking. Her blood turned to ice when she realised the weight Shadow was putting on the windows were making them break, she wanted to yell at the hedgehog to stop but her throat was not eager to listen to her commands, she was too afraid, she was just a useless sick and afraid girl. 
“I believe he is feverish, you will need to come in carefully and administer the sedative” she heard Gerald instruct into the walkie talkie like device. 
In the corner of her eye she looked into the other side of the enclosure, away from where Shadow currently stood. Two scientists apprehensively walked into the gigantic rooms, they were armed with something that looked like a weapon, were they going to hurt Shadow? Maria wanted to speak up but she was still frozen still behind her grandfather. The old scientist himself was standing still, he didn’t want any sudden movements to irritate or confuse the hedgehog, if Shadow broke through the glass, Gerald didn’t know if he and Maria could move away in time to prevent injury. 
Maria could see the scientists whispering harshly to each other, from the distance she was at she obviously couldn’t hear their words but she deduced from their movements they were arguing about who should use their weapon on the distracted hedgehog, in their bickering the taller scientist between the two suddenly and accidentally fired off their weapon. 
A syringe blasted off with smoke trailing it and got Shadow right in the calf, the hedgehog yipped in response and accidentally leaned his entire arm weight into the window. Maria didn’t know what was happening in that moment as glass shattered and she felt herself be shielded as the old man in front of her took the brunt of the glass, there was yelling and panic as she heard the two scientists in the enclosure scream at each other. 
There was a angry roar she was sure came from a provoked Shadow, the sound of shots rang throughout the enclosure as she held on for dear life to her grandfather, her heart couldn’t stop racing, the room shook as Shadow lunged for the scientists that had shot off more sedatives in the their panic at the hedgehogs provokation. They sped towards the steel doors leading out of Shadows enclosure before he could get his claws on the squealing duo. The doors shut quickly as Shadow practically rammed himself into them.
Maria felt her ears ringing, there was just too much going on, her heart felt like it was going to explode out of her chest, it was painful. There were concerned shouts as scientists and other ARK personnel entered the hallway of the enclosure viewing. The floor was covered in so much glass as were Gerald and Maria, she was shielded well from the accidental attack so she only felt the littlest pricks of tiny glass that flew onto her bare legs. She couldn’t identify if her Grandfather was as lucky as she was, her head just felt so light. 
The scientists began examining the blond girl and her grandfather as they were rushed to exit the enclosure. Maria could only spare a couple seconds to look back at Shadow. The gigantic hedgehog lizard looked absolutely distressed, he had done a number on the steel doors as they were covered in claw marks and dented from punches Shadow threw in pursuit to get the doors open. He was on his hands and knees and wobbled due to the effects of the sedatives. The beast turned to catch her eyes in those spare seconds, Maria knew that look he gave, his pleading eyes told her everything.
“I need you”.
Maria felt her eyes droop as the stress of the situation finally caught up to her and she knew no more as she felt herself be pulled to unconsciousness. 
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The ARK was permeated with tension and quietude the past couple weeks. It was like the atmosphere itself was affecting the residents of the ARK as almost everyone aboard the ship was in low spirits. Gerald had been released from the infirmary a while ago, he hadn’t been too harmed by the glass the day of the incident, however the doctors and nurses didn’t want to risk anything as the scientists was still a fragile old man. He was eager to leave the recovery room as soon as he could, he had so much work to do concerning Shadow.
The enclosure had been rebuilt from the ground up, it was double reinforced to prevent such an incident from happening again. The windows and walls held strong as Shadow was monitored in the large room. He had slept for quite a while after the event due to all the sedatives that were carelessly shot into him. Gerald had reprimanded the two scientists of his endlessly for their actions.
 He understood the situation was not the easiest to deal with but he couldn’t have his team panicking the way these two did if such an incident was to occur again. Training would have to be implemented to any new personnel hired into his team. 
The old scientist was busy working on blueprints for what he hoped would be the final version of his device to help Shadow, the perfect inhibitor rings that would perfectly cap off Shadow's immense power and prevent any further mutations. Gerald ignored any advice from his teammates to take a break, he was quite engrossed in his notes and wanted the prints to be just right.
As his brain stormed with new ideas to add to the inner workings of the rings but  his mind ended up wandering to his granddaughter. Maria had recovered from the incident, he terribly regretted putting the girl in the situation. She could have seriously been hurt, Gerlad couldn’t have foreseen the events playing out as they did but he was her guardian and should've known better. 
However it perturbed the old man when he instructed she was to go nowhere near Shadows enclosure until he deemed it safe, she readily agreed with his command which was so unlike her. Such a prospect would usually have her arguing with the scientist for hours. Maria was a sickly thing but she could really stand her ground when pushed enough. 
He knew how close his granddaughter had become to his project, the two were kind of like siblings in the way they would act. Shadow could be quite the troublemaker when he wanted to be and annoyed Maria sometimes until she was begging the old man to put him back in the labs, and other times she’d be scolding the scientist for checking in on them so much when Maria had Shadow hiding in her accommodations. He’d find them in a makeshift pillowfort doing who knows what in the mountain of pillows. Usually Maria was styling his quills and decorating them with whatever adorable trinkets she owned. 
He missed how elated he saw Maria with Shadow's presence, he hoped that this experience hadn’t deterred the girl from wanting to see shadow. Gerald would allow her to do so in time but he himself felt uneasy with Shadows' new state and knew his scientists and himself needed time to adjust. 
Maria didn’t know what she was doing as she lay face planted down in her bed. In the time since Shadow had been provoked and nearly attacked those scientists, she couldn’t bring herself to even try and see him. Every time she thought about it her heart would begin thumping faster in her chest, she thought about Shadows looming and intimidating presence when he was up so close to the glass. His gigantic claw as the windows fractured from his immense weight leaning on them. The way she could feel her entire body vibrate at the strength of his footfalls.
Shadow was dangerous now, there was no denying that. He was always dangerous before, Gerald always reminded the girl of the immense power Shadow had lying dormant, but he never used it on or around her. The most she’d see was his chaos energy flickering when he was having a tantrum, but this never put the absolute trepidation in her that the gigantic Shadow from a few weeks ago did. 
This was stupid Maria decided, as she sat up on her bed. She turned to her wall that was full of doodles she’d put up with some tape. It was mostly drawings of things she’d wanted to do when she got to earth someday, she took note of the one drawing that was Shadows. She had to beg the hog to let her put it up as he was quite self conscious about his artistic abilities at the time. It wasn’t the best drawing in the world but she loved it because it was a crude drawing of Shadow and herself. Maria was honoured to be the muse of the artistic piece and treasured the little piece of paper.  
Fear of the monstrous hedgehog or not, she missed him. 
She felt guilt build in her chest, she’d been avoiding the hedgehog for so long now. A strong wave of determination overwhelmed her guilt as she tried to gain the persistence to make action. Shadow was her friend and he wasn’t himself during that incident. She recalled his face when she managed to catch a look back at him before she was carted right to the infirmary. 
Maria wished she told him she was right there and it would be okay. There was no reason she couldn’t do that now though. Apart from her grandfather catching her in the act and grounding her for life. Honestly though, being grounded felt better than the guilt currently swarming in her chest. 
Whilst she’d only been to the enclosure once, the trek there the first time had been so cemented in her mind it was no problem making her way there again. Maria had to deter a few scientists that passed her direction and questioned what she was up to and if she was okay which she appreciated. She didn’t want them immediately reporting her presence to Gerald so she kept the conversation light and simple. 
She got a bit sneaky when she got to the labs, keeping herself discreet behind some crates full of things she couldn’t identify. When the coast was clear she found herself face to face with the corridor, the same corridor that allowed a view into the enclosure. Maria felt her heart beginning to pump faster and her palms get sweaty. She wanted to scream at her fear and tell it to pipe down but she remembered her grandfather once telling her fear is an irrational thing, Maria had every reason to be afraid but she just didn’t want to be. 
Her heels clicked as she took slow paced steps down the corridor, her mouth felt dry as she noticed the windows were good as new. No evidence that a feverish giant hedgehog had previously tore a hole through them. Speaking of the giant hedgehog, Maria was greeted by his presence as she stood a couple feet from the windows. She wasn’t frozen in place like she was last time but she couldn’t help but stand in awe of his stature. 
He looked much better compared to the pale and sickly hedgehog she saw before. His breathing looked much better, his crimson scales were practically shining anew and his quills looked strong and healthy. Maria could only spy the behind of his head as he lay turned away from her, he was quite a thing to behold.
Maria hadn’t even realised she walked over and put her hands to the glass. It was only when she saw his head perk up and look toward her did she quickly remove herself from the window and return his stare. How did he know she was there?
There was a stare off for a moment as it seemed like Shadow couldn’t believe she was actually there. She felt her cheeks heat up as she was sure she looked quite silly. Suddenly she watched as the hedgehog rose to his hind legs and moved himself to a corner of the enclosure. It was a part of the giant room that was lightly obscured from view of the observation platform unless Maria walked herself down the corridor a bit more. Was Shadow trying to hide himself? From her? 
Her fear began to fizzle a little, instead replaced by curiosity. The giant hedgehog began to curl into himself, it looked like he was trying to make himself smaller, he was failing unfortunately. It was a sad sight and Maria felt her insides shrivel, in all this time she was wallowing in her inability to not be afraid, to be stronger, it hadn’t even occurred to her what this change felt like to Shadow. 
She couldn’t imagine what it was like to see the world change around you only for your body to be the only thing to change, and for everything to become unaccustomed to yourself. But there Shadow was trying to gain some semblance of control, clearly trying to not frighten the poor blond girl by his mere existence. 
She needed to get down there. 
Maria hurried down the corridor, forgetting her previous efforts to be sneaky and avoid attention.  She whipped her head around the environment and her observation was rewarded with some stairs leading down the platform towards the enclosure, she spied some steel doors at the bottom which she was sure led inside.
The blond girl wasted no time sprinting down the steps, she was hit with a bit of clarity to slow down when a wave of dizziness passed over her,  she was then greeted with a code box next to the doors. She really hoped her grandfather would never change the password, it was so easy to guess it honestly felt kind of cruel the little effort she put when she entered her birthdate. 
Maria was annoyed when she felt that little twinge of fear come back as she entered the enclosure. Unlike the windows there were still clear huge claw markings maimed on the other side of the doors and walls, it seemed Gerald and his team hadn’t had time yet to sort it out and it was a good reminder to Maria that she wasn’t supposed to be in there yet. 
The rest of the enclosure looked the same as the last time she was introduced to it, but honestly her memories of the enclosure were so repressed she couldn’t accurately compare. It was still the same gigantic empty room except there was a giant hedgehog huddling in one of the corners of it.
Shadow was really trying to put himself in that corner. He looked absolutely dismayed that Maria had actually come into the room, he did what he could to make himself look as least threatening as possible as he lay on his front and covered his head with his arms. If Maria didn’t know any better she’d say the monstrous hedgehog was afraid of her.
“Shadow?” Maria called out, she gaped at the black hedgehog as he seemed to flinch at her voice. She heard a whine rumble from out of him and it tore at the heart.
The blond girl wondered what to do, Shadow was clearly distressed by her presence. She didn’t want someone coming by only to catch her in here before she could make things right. 
She trudged dubiously to the giant hedgehog as his whines pitched up, there was one of his claws covering up his large head. It was just as big and petrifying as the last time she was approached with the claw, it hit Maria why he’d even put his hand to the glass last time. He wanted her, he always wanted her when he was upset, even if he could be obstinate with his affection he always held it out towards her. She wanted to facepalm at the fact she let her fear overwhelm her so much that she didn’t realise it sooner.
Maria took her own palm to his oversized claw, his scales felt so smooth as she began to pet them, she could feel he was trembling slightly, this only ignited her to continue in her efforts. Shadow slowly took the claw she was comforting off his face, she saw his strained expression and saw fat globby tears threatening to roll down his muzzle. Maria wished she could just collect Shadow up into her arms and rock him like she used to but he was way beyond a point where she could even attempt that.
“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere” her heart wasn’t hammering in her chest anymore, rather it beat proudly as she kept her cool and looked up at the massive hedgehog, he kept his hands to himself, clearly he was well informed of what he had done while in the incoherent state he was in previously. He didn’t want Maria to come to harm like she almost had on the observatory. 
“It was an accident, look! Not even a scratch” she emphasised by waving her arms, the little scars where glass had broken her skin begged to differ but Shadow didn’t need to know about that.
The hedgehog sniffled, she watched his face scrunch up as she did so. Maria made an attempt to wipe at the tear on his left cheek that lost its battle trying not to fall. He moved his face away from her slightly, clearly words alone weren’t gonna convince him she meant her words. 
Shadow choked on nothing as Maria marched up to his other claw that happened to be near her, she made an attempt to heave up a finger and curl it around herself. Shadow in response made an attempt to become as still as a statue, did she not realise the danger she was in right now? He was beginning to grow irritated. 
Maria smiled smugly at the hedgehog's incredulousness and curled the finger around herself tighter “I’ve got your hand all to myself now! Are you gonna do anything to stop me?” The girl challenged. 
Shadow brought his snout closer to Maria as he growled in warning at her, she felt his growls vibrate through every nerve in her body but she kept her composure, she noticed how he curled his other fingers around her. It was such a gentle unconscious gesture, it was kind of funny how Shadow could bore such an angry expression while literally cradling her in a claw. 
Her smug smile disappeared as she placed a palm to his thumb. “See, your so annoyed at me but haven’t done anything to hurt me” she pointed out 
Shadow ceased his growls and took a moment to comprehend Maria’s statement. Before she entered his enclosure that day he was lost in his head thinking about the changes to his person, his body felt like a prison. When he moved it made the scientists that took readings of him flinch. If he made a sound they would brace their ears in case he was too loud. It was all so much and happened so fast. He was small and somewhat normal once and suddenly wasn’t.
Then Maria had seen him, his thoughts weren’t coherent then, he had just seen her and wanted nothing more but to be by her side and hear her talk about the things she got up to that day, he’d only realised something was amiss when he felt a throbbing pain in his leg, by then the damage had been done and his massive body had accidentally caused damage to the enclosure and in doing so to Maria and Gerald. 
The old man had greeted him after the fact with apprehension, Shadow knew the scientist was doing his best to not seem afraid but he could just feel it in the way Gerald talked. He was just like the other scientists that flinched and kept away, Gerald could just hide it better
Maria wouldn’t even come see him. He didn’t bother asking about her, why would she want to  after what he did. 
But she was here now, in his claw, by his side like she always said she’d be. 
The thought made his eyes well up again as he brought his head down on the ground at level with Maria, she felt his previously tense claw relax around her as did his entire body. She joined him on the ground as she made an effort to get whatever she could of his muzzle onto her lap, she mostly got a face full of fur but she was the best she could do. 
“Your shedding is going to make people so annoyed” she complained as his muzzle fur clung onto her dress when she moved her torso off his face. She felt a series of vibrations go through her and the floor but then realised he was chuckling. 
“No seriously, you know what, I bet I could ask someone to knit a sweater with all this fur you have now. Think of the possibilities and all the sweaters we could get out of this Shadow” she chatted on.
Shadow had missed her little rambles that tended to tangent onto other things, it was always hard to keep track of but he just loved listening to her talk. He loved Maria. 
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“Maria get off of Shadow this INSTANT” Gerald exasperated.
“I will not. I am perfectly comfortable here and see no reason to come down” Maria replied nonchalantly. 
“Maria I do not have time for your games we are behind schedule on tests and you are in the way, come down” Gerald commanded, Maria could swear a vein was popping out of his bald head. 
“The only way I’m coming down is if someone comes up and gets me” she folded her arms in emphasis. 
Gerald raised his arms in defeat and stomped out of the enclosure, Maria leaned over Shadows red scaly torso to double check he was out before swiping at her forehead, she thought he’d never give up. 
She was feeling quite rebellious when she woke up that day. She wanted to do things her way or the highway, which meant being a good member of society and completing her studies which she guessed wasn’t actually rebellious. 
But it truly kicked in when she was rejected from spending time with Shadow today, Gerald and his scientists had recently been testing out the limits of Shadows chaos energy after applying the finished inhibited rings to Shadows wrists and ankles. Maria told the titanic hedgehog the gold rings made him look snazzy in which Shadow couldn’t help but strike a cool pose down at her. He was so adorable.
But she hadn’t seen him in a couple days and decided now was the time to abuse her power as she formed a one woman strike when she entered into the gigantic room without permission and told Shadow to put her upon his chest. He was so jarred by her confident yet commanding aura that he didn’t protest and simply did as she instructed. 
The argument that ensued between her and Gerald was kind of worth the confusion as the girl had the old man so riled up he simply stormed out of the room. Shadow had no idea Maria held such power to sway the scientist like that, it was usually with a puppy eyed face she had to get her way but that was beginning to get old. 
As she sat on the gigantic hedgehog's chest she was open to his heart hammering in his torso. She could feel it beating right under her, it was accompanied by his breathing which made Maria feel good for some reason. She was always alert on her own breathing in case something was amiss and she needed to report it to the nearest doctor or her grandfather. Maria guessed she felt better knowing Shadow was healthy.
The hedgehog lay spread out with his arms folded and cushioned under his quills. He was at a perfect ease and Maria couldn’t be more than glad to see him as such. 
Shadow had grown to be really confident in interacting with the tiny people around him, Maria could barely remember her previous fear and apprehension at Shadow's stature, he was just so tender in how he held her in his palms. The worst he'd gotten that Maria could recall was when he’d cupped her in his two claws a little two tight but it was an unfortunate quick reaction to Gerald calling her for lunch that had surprised Shadow. He was normally so perceptive to people coming in and out of his enclosure so he was quite embarrassed by the slip up.
Maria saw Shadow's head turn towards the enclosure entrance and did so as well, there stood Gerald, the man’s face was flat as he whipped his head back to the doors behind him, he simply said “Tony get her”.
Tony? That was one of the bio engineers on the project, he was such a lovely fella and treated Shadow so well that he actually gained the privilege of being allowed to touch Shadow, most people would get a growl in response to unwanted
physical contact with the hedgehog. 
She watched as a hulking form sped past Gerald and hopped up onto Shadows tail, Maria released her strike was about to come to an end, she twirled around to her last resort “Shadow! Hide me in your quills! Quick!”.
The giant hedgehog's eyes bore into her for a moment before a smirk spread across Shadows face, his fangs poked out as he shrugged and went back to looking comfortable. Maria was aghast that the hedgehog would do this to her. Tony had made his way to Maria’s spot on Shadows chest and gently lunged for the girl “sorry little miss, got strict orders to getchu outta here so we can get back to work” at least he sounded apologetic. She swore she could feel and hear a rumble from Shadows chest, the traitor had the absolute audacity to laugh at her plight.
Maria’s effort to grab at Shadows chest fur was a feeble effort as she stood no chance against Tony’s muscley form, she was a sickly little girl and she knew it meant she’d be removed from her strike that was against the oppression of doing as you are told. Tony walked towards the doors with Maria in tow as Gerald’s eyes cut into her like knives “to your room young lady”. 
She glanced a look back at the gigantic hedgehog, oh how she loved him but as she learned today, betrayal never came from your enemies.
If anything she guessed she learned something new about herself today. She was a sucker for revenge and Shadow was definitely going to get it once she was ungrounded from whatever punishment Gerald had in store for her 
118 notes · View notes
ninyard · 2 days
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Thoughts on Kevin ending up nonverbal after Baltimore and everyone’s reaction
God. I love this.
Neil comes back, everyone - even Andrew, especially Andrew - is focusing on him, and listening to him talk, and Kevin kind of... sinks off into the background.
He doesn't mind it, really. Yeah, it's weird that Andrew has hardly looked at him, it's weird that Neil hasn't said much to him at all yet, but it's okay. He sits back, and listens. But the more time that passes, the more this feeling creeps its way up into his chest, around his heart, around his throat.
What will the Moriyama's do now that the Butcher is dead? Has Neil implicated them in it all, did he rat them out to the FBI? If the Moriyama's name finds itself involved in the investigation, how long is it until Day is mentioned? How long is it until someone starts questioning the hand, and the nest, and how long is it until all of these loose ends and messy leads find their way right up to Riko's feet?
There's a hundred questions in his head, but all he can do is sit and stare at a drink in his hand as the stories about Nathaniel Wesninski find their way around the room. Usually at this point Andrew would turn to him, and look between his eyes, and send him some sort of comfort, but he was too involved to care. But that's okay.
Kevin isn't sure he would be of much comfort right now, anyway - he thinks of his hands around his throat, he thinks about how scared he was to lose Neil, how quickly he turned on Kevin to keep Neil safe. Kevin doesn't blame him. But he doesn't forget about it. He knows what it means.
He sleeps that night without saying anything, he's not even sure anybody noticed him leaving early the next morning. He goes for a run as the sun comes up, and the dorm room is still empty when he returns. He makes a coffee. He sits by the broken window. He thinks of all the things he could say to Neil, the things he wants to say to Neil, but nothing feels right. Everything is half formed, and worthless, and when he imagines the words leaving his mouth, they lose their meaning. They lose their purpose.
Andrew texts him sometime before 10, later than Kevin expected him to text, but earlier than he expected him to be awake. It's not much, but something that doesn't require much effort to answer - you good? Kevin doesn't respond. Instead he takes a shower, pulling on the most comfortable and loose fitting clothes he can find afterwards, and he finds himself under the covers of his bed before he could find the energy to convince himself to be productive. He pulls the sheets tight around his head, hugging himself to keep the fabric from loosening.
He thought Neil was dead. He knew Neil should be dead. But he wasn't. And somehow, for some reason, it felt like he was next.
It felt like Neil had dodged certain death time and time and time again, and Kevin had just gotten off lucky. How could he explain that? How could he explain to anyone that he was glad Neil had survived, but he didn't understand it at all? How could he explain to anyone that he was afraid he was next - perhaps if he'd spent more time listening to what Neil was saying the night beforehand, he'd know more about what he'd told the FBI. Instead he'd spent most of that time exhausted and anxious.
He tried to tell himself it was jealousy, for a while, to shame himself into stopping this selfish feeling, but that wasn't true. Jealous that the attention wasn't on him, jealous that everyone cared so much about Neil. He wasn't jealous of anything Neil had been through. For a minute he wondered if it was the attention, but Kevin had never cared much for the attention of his teammates. He'd lost most of their desire to be his friend quite quickly into his arrival to South Carolina, and Andrew was the only one who seemed in anyway interested in dealing with his bullshit. Even then Kevin knew it was a chore, an obligation. Was Andrew his friend? Was he his friend anymore?
Do I keep going? Do I keep thinking about Kevin going into this hole of not knowing what to say, not knowing who cares, not knowing what matters? There probably isn't much of a reaction at all - the only reason people notice being that it's been suspiciously long since Kevin has bitched to them. Neil notices as quick as Andrew does, but he has so much recovery to do, so much mental energy to recoup.
I just picture the trip to the cabins, and Kevin still hasn't said much at all, but nobody really notices. Andrew can't be bothered trying to pull it out of him, so he just accepts that Kevin's gone quiet, and he doesn't say anything about it. It's not that he doesn't care, he just doesn't see a point of trying, because when Kevin goes quiet, he has to come out of it himself. So Andrew knows there's nothing he can do. Neil notices it too, but Andrew just tells him that he's fine.
Then them telling him about Kengo? About Jean? Him finding out where Renee has gone?
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emmcfrxst · 3 hours
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omg old man!logan with mom!reader and laura has me in TEARSSSSS i love them so much
he would never admit it because he's too proud but does get a little jealous when all your attention is on laura. it's nothing serious obv (who tf would be jealous of their child😭) but he is left with with a heightened sense of need for you and your touch. so when night time finally comes around, he's super happy to get you all to himself and just shower you with the love that laura showered you with during the day <33
(the concept of reader being both logan's and laura's favorite person to ever exist is so sweet aaahhhhh)
i’ve said this before i believe but something about laura really brings out logan’s inner child; he’s a lot more mischievous when she’s around, allowing himself to act like a kid and have fun— he’s provoking her on purpose (all in good fun, obviously! he wouldn’t say anything that could actually hurt her feelings, at least not once he’s gotten used to interacting with a child again, he’s accidentally hurt her feelings before by being a little too brash, but that was before he decided to make conscious efforts to let her in) and bickering with her any chance he gets, a grin on his face when she takes the bait and argues back (he’s not gonna lie, he’s pretty proud of just how vivacious she is, she does remind him of himself but he won’t admit that out loud) because he’s really never felt quite as youthful when he’s around her. they’re quite entertaining to watch honestly, because he absolutely will stick his tongue out back at her if she does it, and he will chase her around the house in playful anger if she insults him. he also likes to ruffle her hair when walking past her because she always lets out the most offended little yell, jumping on his back in retaliation and he walks around the house with her hanging off of him like a koala, despite the ache/discomfort the added weight brings him. he’s also the one who started using the nickname “monkey” for her, partly due to her most prized possession: a plushie you gave her (which i talked about here if you wanna read <3) and partly because she loves to climb pretty much everything she sees; including trees, doorframes, random furniture, fences and of course her daddy. anyways yes, since she brings out the youthful side of him he does allow himself to fight her for your attention, which quickly turns into a competition (honestly pretty much anything turns into a competition when it comes to these two, it’s kind of their love language) and logan isn’t afraid to play dirty despite the fact that laura is like 11— he will use his strength to untangle her from you, playfully throwing her on the couch away from you and grinning at her while wrapping his own arms around you, mouthing “my turn now” to her, making her look at him with the most offended expression ever seen on a human being. there’s never a boring moment with them, and you’re constantly showered in both attention and affection <3
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writeonwhiskey · 14 hours
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the skz house: ch 25
a/n: ahhhh we're back, baby! i am so excited to get the final completed chapters out to you all. thank you to @bahablastplz for editing!
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[ read chapter 24 here ]
Chapter Twenty-Five: Of Popcorn and Reuniting
I need some time.
Can we talk on Monday?
You type out and delete several variations of your text to Chan before finally hitting send on the ride home. You considered acquiescing to his request, but you know how it would end; with you in his arms, then bent over as he fucks all his love into you. You want to kiss him, touch him, to feel him inside of you after what he so succinctly confessed with that rose and card. He wants you. He would choose you.
You want to roll down the windows and scream into the night at the top of your lungs. You contain yourself, though. You suppress the giddy feeling each time it arises, keeping it at bay with reasonable logic: you cannot let him choose you.
It pains you to even think that. Especially when you can see how much he is trying…the effort he’s putting forth is not lost on you. You know how out of his comfort zone he must be, and it feels utterly shitty to shut down his attempts and potentially lose all the progress you’ve made with him.
Of course it moves you, knowing he would throw aside everything for you, but now is when you need to be stronger than him. You have to give yourself time to prepare for this conversation—you know it won’t be easy. Waiting to speak to him on Monday will give you that time. It’s always easier to process your thoughts when you’re not in his intoxicating presence. And anyways, if his feelings are as strong as he’s saying, a few days of waiting shouldn’t deter them.
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Over the next few days, you spend most of your spare time sorting through your thoughts and feelings surrounding the Chan debacle, and whenever it feels too overwhelming you can turn to Changbin for a distraction. He’s good for that. However, you’ve learned enough about Aristotle and his belief in moral virtues to last a lifetime. You spend the final Saturday of the rotation with him, staying up and talking about whatever crosses either of your minds.
He jokingly suggests taking things further since this is your last chance. In truth, after the consistent sex you were getting with Hyunjin and Chan, your body is aching for it, but you politely turn him down. You know it’s not aching for him in particular.
On Sunday the house is once again abuzz as everyone shuffles their belongings back to their proper rooms. Chan is, to your surprise, still fast asleep around noon when you take your sheets and clothes back to his room. You quietly make your bed and put your clothes aways before retrieving your stuff from Seungmin’s room and taking it to Hyunjin’s.
Hyunjin is seated at his desk with his headphones on, scribbling away on his sketchpad when you enter. Your hands are full of your blankets and a bag of your clothes is slung over your shoulder. His wide, dazzling smile greets you when the door swings open and you feel like an invisible weight is instantly lifted.
“Welcome back,” he says, standing to help you with all that you’re carrying.
He takes the blankets from you and tosses them onto your bed. You take the bag off your shoulder and set it on the ground as he turns back around to face you. He opens his arms to you and you take a few small steps forward into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his slender waist, squeezing tightly.
“Jagiya,” he whispers against the top of your head.
“I missed this,” you tell him.
As safe as you felt with Changbin and Seungmin, it doesn’t hold a flame to what you feel with Hyunjin. In the near-constant emotional storm you have felt during your time at the SKZ house, he has always been your saving grace. The only thing that keeps you grounded in the chaos.
You feel somewhat bad about it, though—he’s always the shoulder that you lean and cry on, and none of it has ever been because of his actions. It’s always something else. Always Chan. You could release the floodgates and cry right now, hugged up to him, but you don’t want to do that. It’s not fair to him, always having to pick up the pieces.
“Me too,” he agrees.
When you finally step away from the embrace, you motion to the work on his desk.
“Don’t let me distract you.”
He looks down at you and cups your face in his hands. He looks over your face and you wish you didn’t feel so transparent in front of him. He knows. How could he not? You scrunch up your face and shake your head, pushing the tears and sad thoughts aside. Not today. Not on your first day back with him.
He arches an eyebrow in response, but you continue shaking your head defiantly.
“Fine.” he says.
He squeezes your cheeks together, forcing your lips into a fish shape, and kisses them. You can’t help but laugh and swat him away, making him laugh too as he holds his arms up to block your attack.
Maybe it’s not right to push everything down and pretend you’re okay—that nothing has happened to send you into a tailspin. But with Hyunjin…it doesn’t feel like pretending. He genuinely makes you forget that any strife in the world exists when you’re with him.
“Can we get out of the house later?”
“Sure. What do you want to do?” he asks, sitting back at his desk as you start to put the sheets on your bed.
“Anything, really,” you shrug.
He gives you a reassuring nod and smile before turning back to his sketchbook. He starts to put his headphones back on, then stops. He picks up the Bluetooth speaker on his desk and powers it on. Within seconds, ‘Ghost’ by Mystery Skulls starts blaring throughout the room as you get your things situated and he focuses back on his drawing.
You catch yourself dancing around to the song as you tidy up. When you lock eyes with him, he’s vibing to it as well and you both smile and giggle.
It’s distractingly loud and peaceful in here with him.
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Later in the afternoon, the cloudy sky and light drizzle makes it difficult for you and Hyunjin to choose something to do. You both eventually settle on going to see a movie, but it takes another thirty minutes after that to decide what to watch. Hyunjin picks a film called Miller’s Girl, and buys the tickets from his phone. You grab a warm blanket then you both head out.
The theatre is one of the upgraded kinds with large, reclining seats. You get popcorn and drinks before going into the designated room. It’s just the two of you, but you assume others will show up at some point. However, when the previews finish and the movie starts, no one else has come.
“Got the whole place to ourselves,” you remark.
“Come here, then,” he says, taking the popcorn from you and reaching for your hand.
You let him pull you up and over the large armrest separating your seats, bringing your blanket with you. He holds the popcorn out of the way as you get comfortable and spread the blanket out, so it covers both of you. He drapes an arm around your shoulder, holding you against him.
Since you’re alone, you’re both free to talk without fear of annoying anyone. The film is quite interesting—very poetic, which Hyunjin seems to take a liking to. Eventually, your mind starts to stray from the plot, focusing more on how close you are to him…and how long it’s been since you touched him. You slide your left hand under the blanket and onto his thigh. You can see him looking at you from the corner of your eye. You bite your bottom lip to keep from smiling and remain facing the screen.
He moves the popcorn from his lap and puts it on the empty seat next to him.
“Do you remember what happened last time we went out to watch a movie?”  you ask playfully as your hand glides over his cock, above his jeans.
“I have a faint memory,” he replies.
“Just a faint one?” you turn to face him.
He leans forward and captures your lips in one fell swoop. You kiss him back, relishing the familiar feeling of his soft, plump lips against yours. The taste is a little salty and buttery, but good. You feel his cock twitch against your hand and take that as an invitation to unbutton his pants and slide down the zipper.
He breaks the kiss and reclines the chair a little more, allowing you better access to him. You bring your hand up to your mouth and spit in it before slipping it back beneath the blanket to wrap around his cock. It pulses in your tight grip as you start to stroke him slowly.
“Fuck,” he groans. “Let me touch you, too.”
“No,” you shake your head, stroking him faster.
“But I want to feel you.”
“You will later.”
You hear him smack his lips as he rests his head against the chair. He rocks his hips upwards while you continue stroking him. You’re tempted to toss the blanket aside so you can see him, take him in your mouth and then fuck him. You’ll be patient, though. You just want to please him right now.
“Y/n,” he whispers. “I can’t—where am I gonna—?”
You feel his stomach muscles start to convulse as he attempts to hold off his release. You hadn’t thought that part through, and you don’t have much time to come up with a plan. You lift the blanket and duck your head beneath it, quickly taking him in your mouth.
“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” he pants.
You move your hand and mouth in tandem along his cock as he starts to come. You feel his hand grip the back of your neck trying to keep you still, but you keep moving, taking in every last drop.
When he stops shaking you swallow and lift your head from the blanket. With his hand still on your neck he brings you to him again, kissing you deeply, tasting himself on you.
You break the kiss this time, smiling at him as you pull away. He throws himself back against the chair, breathing heavily.
“What are we even watching?” he jokes.
You zip and button his pants back up before snuggling into his side again.
When the movie is over, he practically pulls you out of the theatre, through the lobby and to the exit doors. You can see through the glass doors right away—the light drizzle has turned into an all-out downpour. You plant your feet to stop him from pulling you outside.
“We’re gonna get drenched, Hyunjin,” you tell him, shaking your head.
He turns to face you, eyebrow arched, “You don’t like getting wet anymore? What did Seungmin and Changbin do to you?”
You slap him on the arm and roll your eyes.
“Come on, we can’t stay in here forever,” he coaxes.
“Okay, okay,” you agree with a sigh.
He pushes on the door and looks back at you once more. You nod for him to continue. He opens the door completely and you both make a mad dash for the car. When you’re halfway there, though, Hyunjin abruptly stops this time. You try to tug on his hand to get him to the car, but he doesn’t budge.
“Hyunjin, move your feet!”
He shakes his head and uses your intertwined hands to bring you to him. He rests his hands on your hips as he leans down to kiss you. The rain is coming down over both of you. Your hair, clothes, everything is completely drenched and it’s not even warm rain, it’s fucking freezing. But none of those concerns are the most pressing thing on your mind right now. While kissing him and getting cleansed by the rain, it feels like time is standing still. You’re so enraptured in this moment with him, that all else fades away.
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In celebration of rotations ending, the grill is fired up in the backyard that night. It’s still a bit cold out and damp, but nothing like it was on New Year’s. You and the other girls work on side dishes in the kitchen while the boys cook up the meat. Through the back door you can see Chan manning the grill while the others mostly just sit around and watch—Lee Know helps occasionally.
“Anyone else happy things are going back to normal?” Charlotte asks.
All of you nod your heads.
“As great as Jeongin and Han are, I kind of missed Seungmin and Changbin,” Rhiannon admits.
“You’re one of our bravest soldiers, dealing with those two,” you tell her with a laugh.
“They really are a handful, aren’t they?”
“Their intentions are good, at least,” you tell her to which she nods her agreement.
“Y/n, can you bring the steak out here? And grab a plate to bring some of this other meat in.”
You’re surprised to see Chan’s head peeking through the partially opened sliding back door. A familiar erratic heartbeat returns.
“He wants you to grab his meat—he must have really missed you,” Allie teases.
The other girls laugh with her. They know nothing of the tension you’re feeling right now. You force a small smile and attempt a chuckle, but it sounds strained. You step past Charlotte at the stove and retrieve the meat from the fridge, then head to the backyard. You hand Chan the empty Pyrex dish first and he starts piling the cooked meat onto it.
“You okay?” he asks gently.
You nod.
“So, you’re not staying with me tonight, then?”
You shake your head in response to his question.
He sets the plate of cooked meat next to the grill, as you hold the tray of steak. You expected him to take the tray, but instead he takes each piece of meat off individually as you hold it.
“Did you lose your voice while you were away?”
“No,” you reply softly.
He takes the last piece of steak from the tray, but his eyes are on you the entire time. When you finally meet his gaze, you see a glimmer of something there…worry perhaps, as he watches you. It’s not your intention to be cold towards him right now, you’re just caught off guard by this interaction.
“We’ll talk more Monday,” you tell him. “I promise.”
“Do you miss me?” he asks, handing you the Pyrex dish of cooked meats.
“Of course I do.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips hearing that.
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Since you and Hyunjin already showered, after coming home wet from the rain, you change into your pajamas and brush your teeth when dinner is over, then meet Hyunjin in his room. He’s already laying in bed, beneath the blanket without a shirt on. His eyes are focused on his phone when you enter, but he immediately tosses it to the side and smiles when he sees you.
“Finally,” he says, still grinning.
“Were you waiting for me?” You ask, feigning innocence.
You place your dirty clothes into your shared laundry basket before crawling onto his bed.
“Yeah. For two long weeks,” he tells you, pulling you to him as soon as you’re within reach.
“And what were you expecting to happen?”
You’re laying across his body at an angle, arms folded on top of his bare chest.
“Oh, you know…nothing in particular,” he says, his hand already slipping beneath your shirt to caress your back.
“Good. Because it’s shark week.”
He furrows his brow at that.
“It shouldn’t be until next week?”
You crack a smile—so he has kept track on the app you shared with him.
Seeing your reaction, he quickly flips over so that he’s on top of you.
“You think you’re funny, don’t you?” He whispers into your ear before leaving a trail of kisses down your neck. “Knowing how much I’ve wanted you.”
“I thought it was a little funny,” you shrug.
“Not even a little bit,” he says, pushing your shirt up above your breasts.
As soon as your nipples are exposed, his mouth is on them. Taking in one, sucking and circling it with his tongue, then the other. He kisses between your breasts, then down your stomach, past your navel. When he makes it to your shorts, he doesn’t even bother pulling them down. He yanks them to the side, peeking up at you when he realizes you’re not wearing any underwear.
“Just as pretty as I remember,” he says, returning his attention to your pussy and kissing around your folds.
You want to lean back on the pillows for comfort and close your eyes to enjoy the feeling, but you also want to keep watching him. You’ve missed the sight of him between your legs.
He sticks his tongue out and delivers a hard and slow lick up your slit before blowing cool air over it. A shiver courses through you, and you thrust your hips up towards his mouth, but he moves away.
You assume there will be more teasing to follow, but he dives straight back in, covering your pussy with his mouth. He alternates swirling his tongue around your clit and fucking you with it. You finally throw your head back against the pillow and get lost in the sound of him sucking and slurping you up. You grip the sheets with your hands, still attempting to rock your hips against his face.
He pulls away to readjust himself so he can use his other hand on you. He slides his fingers through your slick to coat them before pushing them inside of you. His heated gaze meets yours as he fingers you and you smile up at him lazily, lustfully, and adoringly at all once.
You beckon him towards you with a curl of your finger and he obliges, leaning down over you with his fingers still pumping in and out. You spread your legs a little further apart to accommodate him on top of you and wrap your arms around his neck. You pull him down to you and taste yourself on him as his tongue invades your mouth.
He applies pressure to your clit with his thumb, causing you to moan.
“I need you to fuck me, Hyunjin,” you pant between kisses.
“Not yet,” he replies. “I want two from you tonight.”
He moves back, sitting on his legs. You can see the determination in his eyes as he continues to fuck you with his fingers. His other hand cups your breast, kneading it and pinching your nipple.
 “Can you do two for me, jagiya?”
You nod your head, unable to speak.
He readjusts himself again and you’ve never been so thankful for his long limbs and dexterity. He keeps one hand on your breast, the other is thrusting three fingers in and out of you, and then his mouth is on your clit again to bring you to the edge.
Your hands fly to his head, tangling themselves in his dark hair. You’re pulling on the strands while simultaneously pushing his face harder against your rocking hips.
“There she is,” he chuckles, his mouth rubbing against you as he speaks. “Come on my fingers.”
He latches back onto your clit, sucking it rhythmically. You grit your teeth and moan, arching your back as you come on his fingers.
The waves of your orgasm continue even as he withdraws his fingers and puts them in his mouth to lick clean. You watch him in a haze. Your legs are still shaking when he finally pulls your pajama shorts down. You’re trying to catch your breath as he removes his boxers, but there’s hardly any time before he’s thrusting his hard cock in your pussy.  
“Oh, fuck, Hyunjin,” you cry out.
“I want two,” he says again.
He hooks your legs on his shoulders and grips your thighs for leverage as he fucks you. He angles his hips, allowing his cock to touch your most sensitive spot with each thrust.
“You feel so good, jagi,” he coaxes. “So fucking tight. So wet.”
He’s bearing a mischievous smile as he looks down at you. He knows what he’s doing to you—with his body, with his words. He knows you won’t last long like this.
Hell, even just looking at the consistent flexing of his abdomen as he fucks you just about does you in.
“I want to be on top,” you tell him, placing your hands on his chest to halt his movements.
You let your legs fall from his shoulders and he rolls over so he’s laying down and you’re on top of him without needing to pull out. You plant your feet firmly on the bed and start to bounce up and down on his cock. He lets out a groan and brings his hands to your hips, gripping them.
His eyes move from your face to your bouncing tits, down to where your bodies are connected. Feeling like the object of his desire is a feeling you’ll never get tired of. You can see it on his face—he likes this. He likes fucking you, pleasing you.
And with him, it’s easy. There aren’t any buried emotions to deal with. You can just enjoy the way you make each other feel. These moments you share with him; you can truly understand what the purpose of the SKZ house is. It’s a system that can work when other feelings don’t get in the way. The type of feelings that have brought you and Chan to an impasse.
You don’t realize your thoughts have drifted so much until you feel Hyunjin’s hand cupping your face.
“On me,” he says simply.
You nod, focusing your attention back on him.  
How can he read you so easily? And be so unfazed, so understanding? You were blessed to have him as Chan’s counterpart in this. Truly.
You place your hands on his chest again, using his body to help you bounce up and down on his cock. His grip on your hips tightens and at first, he helps lift you up but then he pulls you all the way down and keeps you there.
“I need a second,” he tells you.
You smirk at that and start to grind on him. His hands make their way from your waist up to your breast. He squeezes both of them as his eyes roll back, and you know you have him right where you want him.
“Does that feel good?” You tease, moving your hips in slow circles.
He responds by snapping his eyes open and dropping a hand to press his thumb against your clit. A small gasp escapes your lips, and you grind against him harder. With each move of your hips, his cocks touches every part of you.
He’s working your clit with fervor, causing you to moan again as you feel the familiar sensation of another orgasm brewing within you.  
“No,” you exhale. “I want you to come too.”
“I could have several minutes ago,” he admits.
You chuckle at that.
“Together?”
“Mmm,” he moans his agreement, placing his other hand back on your hip.
He grips it tightly once again and you resume bouncing on him. He keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing it as you fuck him.
Looking down at him, you feel lucky to have this experience with him. He’s so kind, so caring, so giving. There’s no way you could repay him for all he’s done for you and all that he’s taught you. But you can, at least, please him.
From the look on his face, you can tell he’s close. His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, gaze stuck on the sight of your body rising and falling on his cock.
You slide one of your hands up to his neck and squeeze it lightly.
“On me,” you repeat his words from earlier.
He fixes his eyes on yours, and you stare back just as intently.
He brings his hand up to cover yours, applying more pressure to your grip on his neck. He gives a subtle nod before moving his hand back to your hips. You squeeze tighter as your legs begin to shake again.
“Now?” He asks.
“Yes, come with me,” you tell him.
He thrusts his hips upwards to meet yours every time, as he spills inside of you. You feel the walls of your pussy clench around his cock as you come, too.
When you both finish, you release his neck and collapse on top of him. He wraps his arms around your back, holding you close and kissing the top of your head. He turns so that you’re both laying on your side, and you feel his softening cock leave your body.
He lifts up for a second and finds his boxers. He uses it to clean you up before tossing them onto the ground. He pulls you as close to him as possible. You hook a leg around his waist and bury your face into the crook of his neck.
You’re happy with him. You wish you could stay wrapped up safely in his embrace and avoid what you must face tomorrow. But you know you’ve put it off long enough.
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a/n: some much need hyunjin time. she needed a break before diving in to that conversation with Chan. more coming soon! if you'd like to sign up for the mailing list you can do so [ here ]. thank you to the 71 souls that have signed up already, ilysm.
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miaoua3 · 2 days
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Heyyy girl I hope ur doing well. Thank u for the amazing works ur doing it never fails to make my day and I love u for that 💗 anwys I'm so excited to ask u this...could u do a girl and boy dad cheol hcs(or whatever u called it) or one shot or both?! It's up to u which one u want to do first. Thank uuu in advance mwahhh 😚🤭
hii! first of, im so glad to hear that you enjoy my work, it always makes me happy when you guys say something like that, it’s the bigger part why i do this😭🫶 and sure i can, i will do hcs because at this point it’s my trademark haha. anyway i hope you enjoy this!❤️
Girl/Boy Dad! Seungcheol Headcanons:
girl dad! seungcheol who cried like a baby when they first placed his little girl in his arms, who cried even harder when she immediately stopped crying once she was placed on his bare skin, as if she knew that it was her papa who was holding her❤️
boy dad! seungcheol who made it a competition with you to make your son say “dada” as his first word, always whispering to his son “say ‘dada’, can you say dada? hm? cmon, make daddy proud son, if you say it dad will buy you every toy that you want to” he’s so…ijbol i can’t with him lmao
girl dad! seungcheol who can go nights without sleep if it means he can stay next to her crib the whole night every night, looking at her with eyes filled with so much love, gently rubbing his finger against her chubby cheeks, softly humming to her until he gets discovered by you and dragged back to bed because it is the third night in the row he has done this
boy dad! seungcheol who put hours and hours of work into decorating his son’s nursery, making his own stencils to paint on the wall, putting on those glow in the dark stars all over the ceiling❤️ (if you’re wondering the theme of the nursery is the universe, with little rockets and planets painted all over the walls)
girl dad! seungcheol who cries more than his daughter on her first day of school, who literally had to call in sick because he couldn’t stop crying, wailing to you how much he misses his little princess and how she isn’t ready for the real world (read: it’s not her that isn’t ready, it’s him)
boy dad! seungcheol who puts so much effort into his son’s interests-if he’s into football count on seungcheol to have a whole day reserved just for his baby where they will play football and he will show him how to do some tricks, he knows all his favourite characters, knows all the names of his plushies, knows everything about his son, he’s just so attentive with him it’s so-😭
girl dad! seungcheol who has his first ever heartbreak when his girl comes home from school and admits that she has a crush on a boy from her class, he will literally go to the bathroom and stare at his reflection, trying so hard not to cry😭 that night you will have to assure him so much that he’s still her number one man and that she still loves him the most while he’s crying quietly (so so dramatic)
boy dad! seungcheol who has a talk with his son before he gets together with his first girlfriend about how he should treat women correctly and to not even think about doing anything stupid like cheating on her or something like that or he will be very disappointed in him
girl dad! seungcheol who cries like a baby on his daughter’s wedding day because what do you mean she officially won’t be sharing his last name with you two anymore? what do you mean she’s all grown up? what do you mean she now will have her own family and she won’t be able to pick up every call of his anymore because she will be busy with her own kids? he will cry so much on his day that the daddy-daughter dance will actually kill him
boy dad! seungcheol who is his son’s best friend and biggest fan and supporter, as well as his son’s biggest idol, so it’s only natural that his son makes him his best man on his wedding day, and what an honour it is to see how well his son has grown up to be, what a blessing it is that he turned out to be just as he predicted he would-and even more
dad! seungcheol who loves his kids unconditionally and raise them to be good people, who teaches them to choose their own happiness every day of their lives❤️
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
this was so much fun to write! if you liked this and want to see the same about the other members pls request it, i would love to do it for all of them!
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thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 days
Note
Can you write about a reader who is the most beautiful girl in the village? Donna literally worships her, she has many pictures of her in her house,she is overprotective, literally treats her like a goddess. Every time Donna sees reader she loves to touch her, tell her how much she loves her and how beautiful she is.Reader is also very shy and doesn't talk much, even more than Donna. Can it be smut G!P Donna with reader being super shy and embarrassed? Reader needs aftercare soo much :))
Yesss!!!! Thank you for your request!!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!!!! :)))))
Your cursed beauty
Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reader
Warnings: G!P Donna, smut, Minors DNI, fluff,
Word count: 7,672
Summary: She's the only one who really loves you...
N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!!I love you all!!!
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“So, with the rune in his hand, he made an effort not to use that power again, because the fate of the region was much more important than his selfish desires...” you read out loud as you wrote.
The always reassuring silence of the mansion, the subtle lighting of the place, that peace, that tranquility were your best companions when it came to writing one of your stories. It was a shame that someone had other plans for you.
“Hey! Silly, silly!” a shrill voice pulled you out of the sheet of paper, blurring the image of your characters in your mind. At least you were used to it. “Hey, do you hear me? Hello? Silly?”
“Angie...” you sighed in a low voice, shaking your head as the puppet climbed onto the old desk, taking a not-so-subtle look at the already written sheets. “W-Wait…”
Your whispers weren't going to stop the doll's curious eagerness.
“Keep reading, keep reading, keep reading,” the puppet insisted, pointing at the paper.
“I can't read what isn't written,” you murmured, taking that new page out of the machine, pretending that this intrusion hadn't made you nervous.
“Well, write then,” Angie said, with her hands on her hips.
“I can't if you're here,” you said with a shy tone, afraid that one of your words would offend the doll. It wouldn't be the first time. “Besides, I'm done for today.”
Sometimes you thought Angie only did those things to make you nervous. What nonsense, of course she did it to make you nervous.
“I hope you've accepted my suggestions,” she said in a petulant voice.
You looked at her briefly, shaking your head. Despite your shyness, despite the comfort you felt in not having to speak, you knew it was impossible.
“I can’t put spaceships in it, it’s a fantasy novel,” you said in a soft voice, not looking at the puppet as you did so, an old trick to lose the fear of communicating.
“Bullshit,” Angie protested, in a brusque tone, one that even startled you. “Spaceships are cool.”
“Angie, lasciala stare,” a tender voice appeared to protect you.
Your lips broke into a smile, your cheeks flushed at those melodic words. The sound of the heels matched the beat of your heart and your eyes moved from the desk to contemplate her approaching figure.
Since you were very young, you were blessed with the gift of beauty.
Being beautiful was the dream of many girls, they strived to achieve it. They prayed to achieve it.
You never had to do it, you were born beautiful, according to too many people, you were the most beautiful girl in the village.
It was a proud title, in which you yourself didn’t believe. You never cared. You never looked at yourself the mirror and smiled. You never contemplated that beauty everyone said you had.
The only thing you were proud of was your gift for writing.
Creating a world, characters, play with them, make them live a thousand adventures was truly your passion. Since you were 10 years old you had started with short stories, with tales that you read to your parents. That was a gift for you, not looking in the mirror and knowing that you were beautiful.
Unfortunately, those kinds of talents were not noticed in that village. The Black Gods, Mother Miranda, the Lords... They transformed that place into a gray pit of bitterness, of conformism.
Like those knights in the books, with small brains and big lances, the villagers didn’t see in you an artist, not even a friend, all they could see was your face, your beauty.
A beauty desired by others, an extraordinary gift that was a blessing for those silly girls who dreamed of their prince charming. For you it was not like that, for you that beauty was a curse, an unjust sentence.
You felt the eyes, the glances on you, you heard whispers. You lived with uncomfortable smiles.
Far from considering you a strange girl, your friends seemed to be interested in your talent. That was a good thing, or so you thought. Every day you had several people willing to listen to your stories, to hear a voice that wasn’t yet afraid to come out of your lips.
In your ignorance you believed that those invitations were simply a desire to hear your stories, since it was the favorite excuse of those boys and girls.
You soon discovered you were wrong. You only had to ask, ask what part they liked the most, what they thought of the fate of a character, to realize that they never listened to you, that your stories didn't matter to them.
Nobody cared about your writing, nobody cared about your stories. They only wanted to be close to you to try to make that fairy tale princess fall in love with a brainless knight.
That same attitude, the repetition of that behavior over and over again led you little by little to despair, to not feeling comfortable talking, relating to people.
One day you were beautiful and outgoing, the next one you were beautiful, yes, but shy and lacking in words.
Shyness arrived over time, as a side effect of that curse your beauty was.
“Oh, come on, don't be like that, let me invite you to dinner at least,” he protested, while you walked away, telling yourself that it was over, that no one who didn't want to listen to you would deserve to hear your voice.
“I really want to know the end,” a hoarse voice startled you, getting in your way.
It wasn't a dream, nor a nightmare. One of the village Lords, the youngest, the strangest, Donna Beneviento, appeared in front of you, with her hands in an elegant pose.
It seemed unlikely, even impossible.
But your duty was to obey those authorities, and so you did. The lady in black and you sat on a bench. Silence accompanied the mystery hidden by that black veil. There were no words, only gestures that encouraged you to continue that story.
You would never have imagined that she, that sick, disturbed woman, that doll maker would listen to you. She didn't interrupt. She didn't seem to devour you with her gaze. She just wanted to listen to you.
No one, not even your best friends, had made the slightest effort to let you share your talent with them.
Donna Beneviento did, she listened to you again and again, she asked you questions, she seemed curious about your talent, enthralled by your stories, and not by your beauty.
Well, that would be trivializing it a bit, of course she thought you were beautiful, the most beautiful girl in the village, but that was a very secondary detail.
She was the first, the only one who dared to meet you, who seduced you not only by what you were on the outside, but also by what you were on the inside. The dates on that remote bench were frequent. They were dates that weren’t scheduled; they simply existed, always in the same place, always at the same time.
You found refuge in her presence. Attentive, kind, shy like you... That was the youngest of the Lords.
That was the first time, the first time that a compliment, a flattery, was accompanied by praise for your talent.
Her deformed face forced her to isolate herself from the world. Her different body embarrassed her, almost as much as your beauty did to you. You tow ere so different and so alike…
You had no doubt, you loved her, and she loved you.
Without thinking, you threw yourself into that romance, into her lips, into her kisses, into her hugs. Donna was the only one who treated you the way you deserved, the only one who won your heart.
Living in the old mansion was your next step. You couldn't walk without feeling her lips, her caresses, her words of love. Yes, she was also dazzled by your beauty, she adored you as if you were some kind of Goddess, but you knew she was the only woman you allowed to do it.
Your shy attitude was curious to her. Your talent was fascinating to her. But, Donna... She was much more than that to you, Donna was everything to you.
You could no longer live without her kisses, without her voice, without her caresses... Anything that meant not having her by your side was like a hell for you.
“Hi, tesoro...” the lady sighed, bending down to steal a kiss from you, to cheer your spirit with a tender smile.
You smiled again, embarrassed by the softness of her lips, her words. Your cheeks had become accustomed to blushing in her presence, and your body trembled accepting her caresses.
“Donna,” you said with a soft voice, broken by the shame your body felt when hers surrounded it.
“Are you done for today?” she asked softly, looking at the pile of papers on the desk.
You nodded slowly, lowering your gaze as she looked at you again with that smile, one that didn't seem to want to fade from her face.
“I've finished two chapters,” you said in a whispery voice, trying to make the heat in your cheeks dissipate, something complicated due to her constant caresses.
“Mm, you were inspired,” Donna said, amused, putting her hand on your shoulder and sitting on the desk. “Do you want to read them to me?”
“Oh, um, I…” you said nervously, moving your eyes away from hers. “You, you know it’s embarrassing for me.”
Donna laughed, shaking her head, taking the opportunity to run a hand over your face again, to be captivated by your features. Your cheeks accepted that caress, responding with an increasingly dark red tone.
“You know I love listening to you,” she whispered, moving away so as not to overwhelm you. “Your voice is worthy of the Gods.”
You laughed as you shook your head, giving her a soft slap on the leg.
“Hey, don't say those things to me…” you said in a shy tone, focusing your gaze on the papers, and not on her beautiful, truly beautiful smile. “It makes me nervous.”
“Oh, does it make you nervous when I tell you nice things?” she said in a tender voice, biting her lip. “You're perfect, you know?”
“No, no, I'm not,” you murmured, looking for the chapter you had finished. “If I read you… will you stop talking to me like that?”
“Maybe,” she said, with a mischievous smile.
You indicated for her to sit in a nearby chair, while you cleared your throat.
“Mm, let's see…” you whispered, dying of embarrassment as every time you read out loud, even more knowing that the Angie doll had climbed onto her owner's lap, also willing to listen to your story without spaceships.
Little by little, you related those parts of your novel, which Donna, along with a mysteriously silent Angie, listened attentively.
 “What do you think?” you said, sighing in relief when you finished reading.
The lady in black, with her head resting on one hand, blinked, her smile widening.
“Edgar's story is very tragic,” she commented, with a low voice, moved by the fate of one of your characters.
“Yes, well…” you said, nodding and moving the pages, returning again to your usual shyness. “He can have all the money he wants, but he will never get Regina's love…” you commented.
“Never?” Donna asked, curious about your comment.
You shook your head with a smile.
“Not everyone has to have a happy ending, right?” you said amused.
The lady sighed, getting up from the chair and lowering Angie to the floor.
“I had it,” Donna whispered, helping you get up from the chair with an elegant gesture, placing her hands gently on your waist. “Although I didn't deserve it…”
You enjoyed the contact, the soft hand that placed a lock of hair behind your ear.
“Me neither,” you said in a low voice, intimidated by the intensity of her gaze.
“Nonsense, tesoro, you deserve anything you want,” the lady in black whispered, leaning to your ear and kissing your skin slowly, savoring each of the soft movements of her lips on your neck.
“You’re exaggerating,” you said shyly, laughing nervously at the tickling her kisses did to you.
“Mm,” Donna murmured, sighing and caressing your cheek one last time before slowly pulling away, kissing the back of your hand. “I’m going to go make dinner.”
“Oh, do you need…? Do I help you?” you asked, more confidently.
Donna turned slowly, shaking her head.
“No, tesoro, just rest,” she said softly, walking away from you with her graceful step, the rhythmic sound of her heels clicking on the floor.
You stood still on the floor, but before the doll maker reached the elevator, you walked quickly towards her, placing a hand on her shoulder, drawing her attention.
“Donna,” you said with a shy smile, slowly turning her around and capturing her lips in an improvised kiss, one you rarely felt capable of giving.
She smiled into your lips, cupping your face in her hands, caressing your lips slowly, softly, while you leaned, smiling. Your cheeks were burning with shyness, but also, with love.
The kiss deepened, and seemed to never end. Your hands settled on her chest and hers ran seductively along your waist.
“Amore mio…” she sighed, letting her lips go free, kissing every part of your face, releasing the chastity of her hands, which tickled your arms, your neck. “Principessa…”
You resisted nervously, unable to control those kisses that were increasingly unbridled.
Laughing again, shy at her whispers, which only knew how to praise you, to adore you as if you were something precious, fragile, tremendously valuable, you put your hands on her chest, stopping the passion that was increasingly ardent, because otherwise, you would be unable to do it.
“Donna,” you whispered between kisses, gently moving away, causing a tender growl from the lady, who finally agreed to stop kissing you. “I'm… I'm a bit hungry.”
“Oh, certo…” she murmured, kissing you quickly and running her thumb down your cheek while laughing nervously. “I'm sorry.”
“Don't apologize,” you whispered shyly, with a sincere, sweet smile, a smile like you've never had, one in love, truly in love. “I love your kisses…”
“I love you…” the lady whispered, giving you one last kiss before pulling away again.
“Hey, that's enough! Stop, basta, parad!” Angie shrieked, pushing the lady by her legs. “How disgusting…”
“Angie…” Donna sighed, shaking her head.
“Is the blood reaching your head? I doubt it…” the doll mocked, making the lady blush with a serious look.
“Angie, don't be rude,” the doll maker protested, turning around. “I'll see you right away, amore mio…”
“O-Okay,” you said shyly again, laughing at Angie's impudence. “I'm going to take a bath, I need it.”
“Mmmm,” the lady in black protested, turning on her heels and biting her lip. “(Y/N)… You know I love to do it with you.”
You shrugged in amusement, looking at the floor so your embarrassment wasn't so obvious. The characters in your novel weren't afraid of such things but you... Despite having shared everything with Donna, you were still extremely shy when it came to taking off your clothes next to her.
Your life was perfect, really perfect.
“And this... It's for you...” Donna said as she served dinner, handing you a perfect rose, like every night.
“Oh...” you murmured, smelling the intoxicating scent of the flower. “Donna...”
“Mm?”
“It wasn’t necessary” you said with your voice low, soft and shy as usual. She smiled at you, gesturing with the bottle of wine. “Oh, don't pour too much wine, otherwise, my head will hurt.”
The lady laughed, obeying your request and leaving the bottle on the table, waiting, as always, for you to eat first.
“Do you like it?” she asked, unsure, observing your gestures.
“Very much, darling,” you said kindly, earning another radiant smile from the brunette, who, finally making sure that you enjoyed her food, began to eat. “Thank you…”
The glances crossed as always, the smiles danced between them from time to time, the shine of your eyes reflected the dim light of the candles.
Every night, every moment was the most romantic of your life. Of course, you could envy many things from the books: talkative, outgoing, daring characters... But if there was something that those romance stories were not able to convey, it was the love that existed between you and Donna. That was just impossible.
“How...?” you said nervously, interrupting that silent dinner, wishing to be the one to start a conversation for once, something difficult due to so many years of voluntary silence. “Ahem, how about your...? Your... Dolls?”
Donna looked up, knowing that you were interrupting because of your internal struggle to stop being the shy girl you always were.
“My dolls… Well, I guess they are as usual,” she commented, drinking some wine. “They're not very talkative.”
“Hey!” Angie protested, entertained on a nearby sofa.
“Well, not all of them,” Donna joked, lowering her gaze again.
You nodded. Yes, Donna wasn't the most extroverted and talkative woman in the world either, but at least she tried, and with better results than you, of course.
“I, I'd like to learn how to sew,” you murmured, hiding your shyness in a glass of water. Donna smiled, arching her eyebrow.
“Sew?” the lady asked, with a tender voice, unable to hide a bit of curiosity.
“Yes, well… You must be sick of fixing my dresses,” you commented amused, finishing your plate, looking at the sleeves of your dress, always masterfully mended by the brunette.
“Don't talk nonsense, tesoro, I love sewing for you, and making you dresses…” she commented, winking at you. “You have a perfect body for it.”
“Oh, well…” you said nervously again, running a hand over the back of your neck and looking away. “But, I would really like to learn.”
“Okay, dolcezza, I'll be happy to do it,” Donna said in a soft voice, with a slight blush on her cheeks. “Tomorrow when I get back from the meeting we could start, what do you think?”
“Oh, tomorrow…” you sighed, blinking nervously. “I don't know if I can, I had thought that, since you have a meeting, I could take a walk around the grounds, you know, to get inspired.”
Donna stopped eating, with a slightly more serious, darker look. You didn't expect any other reaction.
All the virtues of the lady in black were enough to make you fall in love, but, like everyone, she also had flaws. The worst of them was her subtle possessiveness, her jealousy, the fear of losing you, something that always led her to overprotect you, to put a bubble wrap on you so nothing dared to harm you.
The lady wiped herself with a napkin, drinking some wine before looking at you suspiciously, perhaps searching for the words to dissuade you.
“Mm, you can wait for me so we can go together,” she murmured, searching for the lie, the deception in your gaze, something that made you even more nervous.
“Yeah, but... Well, it's just that I don't know when you're going to come back,” you said with a voice that was getting weaker and weaker, playing with your cutlery so as not to look at that darkened eye. “Last time it got dark.”
“You know you can't go out alone, (Y/N),” she said abruptly, crossing your arms. “If I come back late, we'll go another day.”
“But Donna... I...” you insisted with a broken voice, with the seriousness of her gaze stabbing a dagger into your heart.
“Basta, (Y/N). We've talked about it many times,” she hissed, clenching her fists on the table, without changing that sinister expression. “You can't go out, it's dangerous.”
“You worry too much,” you murmured, frowning and shaking your head. “Nothing will happen to me, it's still your territory.”
“I worry enough, tesoro,” she whispered, crossing her arms. “I don't know what I would do without you.”
“I think you're exaggerating, darling,” you said with a fake smile. “I don't think anything will happen to...”
“You can't go out!” the woman in black shouted, with an angry voice, losing control, something that happened less and less frequently.
“Donna...” you whispered, scared by her abruptness.
 It shouldn't surprise you, but your soul was suffering to see the love of your life losing control.
“I'm sorry,” she said nervously, looking at the table and shaking her head. “I just... I can't imagine that... (Y/N) you, you can fall off the cliff, you can trip and hurt yourself, do you understand? How do you think I would feel if something happened to you?”
You nodded, calmer as you saw the light in that darkness again. It seemed to take a lot of effort, but little by little, she began to control her problems, more or less.
“Um, Donna,” Angie interrupted, dispelling the uncomfortable tension that had formed between you. “Can you stop being too Donna?”
“It's none of your business,” the brunette hissed, her breathing still labored.
“Come on, silly Donna, (Y/N) is not a dog. You can't have her stuck in the house all day long,” the doll said, defending you. You raised your eyebrows but didn't intervene. “She's not stupid, nothing will happen to her.”
“Am I talking to you?” the lady asked, with a dangerous tone, getting nervous again.
“Now you are,” the puppet joked, laughing amused.
“Ugh…” Donna protested, shaking her head and getting up from the table, approaching you.
The brunette bent down, taking your hands, kneeling on the floor with a different expression, a sad, pleading one.
“Amore mio, I'm sorry…” she said in a soft voice. “I shouldn't have yelled at you.”
You nodded slowly, letting her hands caress you with soft, but trembling hands.
“I'm sorry, per favore, perdonami…” she sighed again, burying her head in your lap, soaking your dress with a tear of sadness and regret. “You are the most important thing in my life, my girl… My soul…”
“Donna…” you sighed, caressing her black hair, calming her demons little by little, comforting her in your arms. “My love…”
“If I lost you, I would…” she sobbed again, raising her head to look into your eyes.
“Shh,” you whispered softly, caressing her cheek. “You won't lose me, I promise. I promise I'll be careful of cliffs, ditches, and anything that could hurt me. Nothing will happen to me, darling, trust me.”
“O-Okay,” she said, nodding, getting up from while kissing you slowly, repentant for her irrational anger. “You're right, tesoro.”
You smiled tenderly, ending that argument.
It was funny. When Donna was in trouble, your informal nature, your self-confidence came back to lend a hand to you. Sometimes you wondered what your life would be like if you hadn't given up socializing, if that desire to talk for hours, to say everything you thought, had remained.
“You're welcome, silly...” Angie whispered, while Donna and you looked at each other in love, in silence, with the sweet glow of forgiveness on her face.
You looked amused at the doll and back at its owner, who shook her head, pulling you up from the chair so she could hug you affectionately, lovingly, letting a sigh run through your bodies as you buried your head in her black dress.
“I love you so much...” she whispered, swaying with you. “I have a hard time believing that you're really with me, it's like a dream.”
“Don't say that,” you said shyly again, with the blush on your cheeks confirming that the bad moment was over. “You know I blush easily…”
“Mm,” she murmured, stealing one last kiss from you before slowly pulling away, her gaze fixed on yours. “I like seeing you blush… You're beautiful, you know?”
“Donna,” you said looking away and giving her a playful punch on the shoulder. “Stop it…”
“Okay, okay,” she laughed amused, leaving you some room again and turning towards the table. “I'm going to pick this up, you… Well, why don't you prepare a movie?”
“Oh, I… Okay,” you said, with the blush limiting your words, walking towards the elevator until a tug on your dress stopped you.
“Hey, you, aren't you forgetting something?” Angie said, crossing her arms with a cocky tone and pose.
“Um…” you murmured, frowning, confused and looking for Donna's help. Unfortunately, the lady was busy with the dishes. “N-no, I don't know,” you stammered.
“I helped you, I demand compensation,” the doll told you, determined to not let you go.
“What do you want? you asked nervously, playing with your hands.
“Oh, it’s not complicated, just one word: Spaceships,” Angie said, with an amused tone.
Not knowing if she was joking or on the contrary, she was serious, you rolled your eyes, without answering back, hitting the elevator button.
The next day, that afternoon, you were finally able to go out for some fresh air. The meetings of the Lords were always something annoying for you, something that took Donna away from you but… That day, you really needed that walk.
Unfortunately for you, that silent walk through the forest was not entirely useful. Your head tried to get inspired, but you were unable to do so. Maybe what you needed was a break.
“Okay…” you said, closing the door of the mansion, scared when you felt a tug on your dress. “Oh, no!” you squealed, thinking that maybe someone had grabbed it.
Your face turned red from embarrassment, but not like when Donna whispered in your ear, this time it was because of the terrible ridicule you had before your eyes.
 In your clumsiness, with your mind wandering through imaginary landscapes, you had closed the door too soon, thus trapping the fabric of your dress.
“I don't believe I'm that stupid…” you muttered, pulling hard on the fabric, unable to open the door again. “Shit!” you screamed when, with a disgusting sound, the fabric tore, ruining one of your dresses, one of the ones Donna made for you. “See? That’s why I wanted to learn how to sew…” you hissed, lamenting, kicking the floor nervously.
Furious, angry with yourself for your clumsiness, cursing in ways you only used when you were alone, you went down to the bedroom to change clothes, searching in your head for the best way to ask the doll maker to fix your dress again.
“Great, (Y/N), you’re stupid…” you said to yourself, opening the closet and looking for a nice dress, one to give her a surprise you thought she deserved.
Rummaging through the clothes, something fell to the floor. It looked like a small box, like a jewelry box. You picked it up, unable to resist the temptation to open it.
Maybe there were the Beneviento family jewels. Maybe some ruby, sapphire, or precious stones would serve as inspiration for some weapon in your novel.
“What?” you said surprised when you saw its contents. There were no rings, no necklaces.
Inside that small box were photographs, a few photographs in which you were the main protagonist.
“No…” you sighed, watching yourself walking to the market, reading alone in a corner… It was obvious, although you couldn't believe it. Donna had been spying on you.
Long before she met you, before she dared to talk to you that day, she had been following you, stalking you without you realizing it.
The thoughts became confused in your mind. That idealization of the lady in black, that feeling of thinking that it wasn't your beauty that attracted her in the first place, blurred as you looked at those photographs.
You shook your head, feeling your stomach sink, how everything you thought was clouded in a fog of betrayal, of deceit.
“Everyone is the same… You too,” you said nervously, with a dark hiss, squeezing one of the photos in your hand.
You, who believed that she was the only one who loved you for who you were inside, and not on the outside, saw that, in reality, the brightness of your eyes, your face, your figure, was what attracted her attention, you didn't know how long ago.
“Why, Donna? Fuck... I thought you were different...” you lamented, passing a hand over your forehead.
Disappointment attacked your feelings, but the love you felt for the lady in black was resilient, even with that disappointment, your heart didn't change sides, it was still with her and it always would be.
“(Y/N)?” her soft voice interrupted your laments. The sound of her heels was getting closer. Apparently, that day, the meeting ended early.
A smiling Donna entered the bedroom, ignoring the scene in front of her, grabbing your waist, leaning you in a chivalrous manner and kissing you in a somewhat old-fashioned way, something that, in other circumstances, drove you crazy.
“I've missed you, tesoro…” she whispered with a tender voice, approaching your lips.
You, angry, upset by your discovery, turned your head away, pushing Donna roughly.
“(Y/N), what…?” the lady asked with a frown at your rejection. “What's wrong with you?”
“What's this, Donna?” you asked hissing, showing the lady one of the photographs, one in which you were calmly reading.
“Oh, I…” she said shyly, blinking in embarrassment due to your discovery, with the smile slowly fading from her face. “Well, I…”
“How long have you been doing this?” you asked, putting the embarrassment aside, demanding explanations with an irrational fury.
“I...I...” she stammered, desperate, nervous, shaking her head.
“I...I...” you scoffed unpleasantly. “Fuck, Donna, I thought you were different!”
“What? No, I, I just...” she said, unable to look you in the eyes, terribly embarrassed.
“You just what? Were you spying on me?” you asked, getting a little closer in a threatening way, making her back off. “Answer!”
“It's not that, I...” she said, breathing heavily. “You, you don't understand.”
“No, of course I don't understand...” you hissed, looking at the ceiling. “Do you know why I fell in love with you?”
Donna shook her head, her body shaking, totally humiliated.
“Because you weren't like the rest, because I thought you looked beyond my physical appearance,” you explained, pointing at her with your finger, forcing her to lower her head, to accept your reprimand.
“But, but I...” the lady interrupted, narrowing her eye. “Listen to me, I...”
“No, I don't want to listen to you, Donna,” you said, nullifying any attempt of the brunette to defend herself, to explain herself. You didn't remember having gotten that nervous, ever. “Why were you doing this? Why were you spying on me?”
“Because, because I... I, I love you...” she stammered, with a sad look. “I fell in love with you before I met you and...”
“So that's why you were secretly taking pictures of me, right? That's creepy, Donna,” you snapped, showing the photograph. “I can't believe it. You're just like everyone else…”
“No, you're wrong, I'm not like them,” the lady in black defended herself, with a tear running down her cheek, reaching out her arms to grab yours, something you prevented with an unpleasant gesture.
“You've shown me… I'm just a pretty face to you, aren't I?” you said in an ironic tone. “I always was. If you loved me before you met me it means that the only thing you cared about was my appearance, right? Then fuck you!” you shouted furiously, crumpling the photograph in your hands and letting it fall to the floor.
You were completely unhinged. Not even you could understand the reason for your anger, you simply couldn't.
“No…No, no, no, no,” Donna sobbed, throwing herself to the floor and grabbing the photograph, smoothing it again with trembling hands. “That’s my favorite…” you whispered, holding it tightly against her chest.
“They’re right about you, you’re a sick nutcase,” you hissed without thinking, letting out all that irrational rage.
Donna didn’t respond. She just closed her eye shifting on her stomach with your picture on her chest, crying inconsolably.
A spark of sanity came back to your mind, making you put a hand over your mouth, aware of what you had just said, of the damage you had done to poor Donna just because your beauty made you feel self-conscious, just because that was the reason for your hermetic attitude. You didn't want to be a pretty face, not to her.
“Gods...” you sighed, shaking your head and putting a hand on the shoulder of the lady, who was still crying inconsolably. “Gods, Donna, forgive me, I didn't mean that.”
“I just wanted...” she murmured, her voice broken by sobs. “I wanted to see you all the time... I knew, I knew I could never have you so... I took pictures of you secretly but, but it's not what you think... It's not that... It's not that!”
“Don't you understand how bad makes me feel that you noticed me because of my looks?” you asked in a softer, calmer tone.
“Is that really a bad thing?” the lady asked, putting the photograph back in the box.
You remained thoughtful, stepping back.
“N-No, I don't know,” you murmured unsurely, calming your breathing. “The truth is, I…”
“You are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met,” Donna said, putting the box away in the closet, controlling her sobs. “I don't care if you hate me saying it. I'm not going to stop doing it.”
“Donna…” you sighed, relaxing little by little, regretting your attitude.
“Yes, I fell in love with you, always so quiet, reading anywhere, with that smile…” she whispered, bringing her trembling hand closer to your face. “You are like a Goddess to me, better than a Goddess… But I… I knew that I could never have you, that you would never love someone like me. I limited myself to looking at you from afar, dreaming of your beauty, until that day…”
“What day?” you asked, tilting your head, with a serious face, but with your eyes shining.
“The day you were talking to that boy, when you were telling him a story,” she said, without looking at you, still nervous. “Then I had no choice but to do something. Besides being a beautiful girl, you were smart, you had imagination. I had to meet you, (Y/N). I had to know if your beauty also touched your soul… And it really did.”
“That's… Very, very nice,” you said with an involuntary smile, lifting her chin. “Donna, Gods, I went too far… Forgive me…”
“I’ll always forgive you, (Y/N), you are the love of my life,” she said, placing her hand in yours. “Don't worry about the photos, I… If they disgust you that much… I'll, I'll get rid of them.”
“No, wait, honey,” you said, stopping the lady from bending down again to pick up the box. “Wait, my love… No, it's not necessary…”
“I would never do anything to hurt you, (Y/N), I live to take care of you, to love you…” Donna murmured, caressing your face erratically.
“I know, Donna, I…” you stammered, losing yourself in her gaze, in her sincere words of love. “Donna…” you sobbed, burying yourself in her arms, hugging your lover tightly, calming the delusions of your mind.
Her embrace was warm, comforting as always, strong, safe… In your head you regretted your attitude, that fury, the absurd transformation of your personality due to the interest people had in you, a physical interest, without feelings, a superficial vision of what you were on the outside and not on the inside.
The things the lady in black did, the photographs, didn't matter. Little by little you began to realize that it wasn't important.
What was important to her wasn't your appearance. It was that your beauty was linked to your soul, to your intelligence.
“Honey…” you sighed nervously, caressing her cheek, letting her arms cradle you. She looked back at you, nodding for you to speak. “Forgive me. I'm sure you'd like me to be a little more talkative or outgoing but… It's just that… Everything, everything that's happened to me, my disappointments… I…”
“Shh, don't go on, darling. It doesn't matter… I like the way you are, I love you just the way you are…” she whispered, kissing your lips softly, mixing your salty tears with the dance of a loving kiss, a sincere one, one that ended that horrible moment you both suffered.
Donna pulled away, making an effort to give you a smile, one that made your cheeks shine again with that blushing tone.
“Mm?” the lady in black murmured, when her gaze strayed to the torn sleeve of your dress. “What happened to your dress?”
“It's just that...” you murmured, moving your ankle, embarrassed. “The door caught me.”
“The door,” she said, with an amused expression, studying the damage of the seam. “Don't worry, dolcezza, I'll fix it.”
“You always fix everything, don't you?” you said shyly, looking down, only being able to hear her nervous laugh, a sweet and tender one. “Okay, let... Let me...”
Your feelings sent signals to your head as you moved away from the lady, with your cheeks flushed and your hands tremblingly traveling to the buttons of your dress, slowly undoing them, one by one.
“Tesoro, what..?” Donna asked, looking at you curiously, watching how, controlling your shyness, you took off the sleeves of your arms, thus revealing your partially covered torso.
“Shh, I'm embarrassed if you talk,” you whispered nervously. “Just let me do it by myself”
She nodded, not wanting to bother you, to intimidate you, running her gaze over all the parts of your body that were gradually becoming exposed.
“Sei una dea della bellezza,” the lady in black murmured, breathing nervously in front of your half-naked body.
“Don't even talk to me like that. Don't use Italian against me. You know I'm embarrassed…” you protested amused, grunting in shame, unable to hold her gaze.
You could sense a smile as she approached, surrounding your body with her hands, caressing your waist, your back, lifting your chin so your blushing face looked at hers.
“I will never be tired of saying how beautiful you are,” she whispered in your ear, with that melodic voice that always made you squirm, while her soft, delicate hands took advantage of your distraction to act on the clasp of your bra, unbuttoning it instantly.
You laughed again, resisting the embarrassing impulse of your hands, which asked you to cover yourself. Fighting your own shyness, you succeeded, while Donna helped you face that absurd shame with a soft kiss from her lips, with some sensual caresses on your bare back.
“Donna…” you whispered, letting yourself be carried away by the humidity of those tender kisses, by the glances, by the sighs, by that increasingly warm, an increasingly anxious atmosphere.
Your dress fell down your legs, crashing against the floor irremediably, making a shiver run through your legs, the cold making the hairs on your skin stand on end.
“Come here, amore mio… This horrible floor is not worthy of your footsteps…” Donna whispered, lifting you in her arms in an elegant way, raising your half-naked body to lay it on the bed.
“Why are you so tender?” you asked amused, crawling across the mattress, closely followed by the brunette, who began to get rid of her own clothes without taking her gaze off yours, a look of admiration, of faith, of adoration to your body, to you.
She didn't answer, she simply moved the black dress away from her body, approaching you little by little, running her hands over your legs, over your waist... Leaning down after a sigh and kissing you again.
They were sweet, tender kisses but they betrayed the passion that had begun to form in the dark bedroom. The blush on your cheeks didn't want to leave your skin, shame refused to give you a break.
You were sure that every time your lover ran her hand over your face, her skin burned from your heat.
You laughed shyly when Donna exposed her bare torso as well, when she did with her hands what yours were incapable of doing, uncovering the beautiful woman beneath that black fabric, that pale, soft skin you were addicted to.
A brave arm pulled her head, returning her lips to where they belonged, directly to yours.
Her hips began to dance over yours. The heat of her body was mixing with yours. The kisses became fiercer, wilder as her fingers enjoyed your body, the shapes and curves you were born with, that kind of cursed blessing your beauty was.
“Gods… I love you…” Donna whispered, shaking her head, unable to repress her excitement any longer, pulling down your underwear with a soft movement, studying your embarrassed face, your gaze desperately searching for a place to focus on that wasn't her body.
“I love you,” you repeated, trembling as that hand ran down your chest, the other spreading your legs, exposing you completely.
The wine seemed pale compared to your cheeks. Your whole body trembled nervously as Donna finished undressing, as she positioned herself on top of you, ready to make you hers.
“Please, if you want me to stop, just…” she said, looking for the doubt in your eyes, that unmovable blush on your cheeks when her erection brushed the moisture of your folds, when you saw for yourself what you were doing to her body.
“No, no, Donna…” you said, gaining confidence due to that obscene, lustful touch, one that you had already experienced, but that you had a hard time getting used to. “Just… Don’t, don't look at me, okay?”
The brunette laughed, delaying her entrance and shaking her head, running a hand over your reddish cheeks and another one over your leg, scratching it without harming you.
“You can't ask me that…” she whispered with a smile distorted by desire, while her hips forced her to move so as not to lose that wet contact. “Watching you is my greatest hobby… You can close your eyes.”
You obeyed, writhing from the sensations her hard shaft sent to your body, not wanting to see her gaze when making love to you, not wanting to feel the shame that would prevent you from enjoying.
“Ah, Donna…” you gasped when she finally entered slowly, letting your wet entrance adapt, without forcing, enjoying the moisture that surrounded her, the ease with which your body accepted that invasion.
“Am I hurting you, amore mio?” Donna asked in an almost silent whisper, moving more slowly until she entered completely.
You, unable to say a word, unable to bear that incredible pleasure, shook your head, running your hands around her waist, bringing her even closer to you. That gesture reached the brunette, who quickly understood the message, you wanted her to move.
You would never say anything, you would never ask for anything. The only thing you could do without dying of embarrassment was to moan, to say her name, but never interrupt or dare to ask her for something different.
The wet sound of your bodies was accompanied by discreet moans, by the random sound of your lips colliding with each other in a disorderly manner. Everything gave you pleasure: her hands, her erection deforming your walls, her soft caresses, her reassuring, flattering whispers…
You were stupid. You would never give up that, the comfort of her body inside yours, the love and understanding that only Donna could give you.
In the middle of that lustful festival, your arms moved alone, running down her back, enjoying her skin when you thought she didn't notice, when the soft but determined movements of her hips began to become erratic.
Her hands also lost their tenderness, gently grabbing your legs, lifting them at will. Just thinking about that look, that eye shining with desire as she took you… Just with that thought you let out a louder moan and your hips began to want to keep up.
It was an intense rhythm, embarrassing but not wanting to miss anything, wanting to enjoy each one of those wonderful sensations, that very sexual, erotic and hot way that Donna had of expressing her love for you.
“(Y/N)…” she moaned, losing the rhythm, moaning faster, unable to control her movements, scratching your legs, your fragile skin.
That only made you tense up, scream, say words you would never say while you noticed how your body contracted, how your walls played with her erection, hugging it, holding it, squeezing it until, overwhelmed by the pleasure of your orgasm, she released herself inside you, stopping her body as close to yours as possible, with her legs shaking and her seed sending soft and wet caresses to you.
“My love…” you sighed when the lady fell exhausted on your chest, catching her breath little by little, with a smile, not wanting to leave your wet and warm body.
“(Y/N)… Ti amo, ti amo…” she repeated over and over again, finally coming out of you and covering your face with kisses, settling you under the sheets, letting her body surround yours, protecting it from shame, from your fears…
“Donna,” you said, snuggling up to her, controlling your still agitated breathing, melting into her body in a tender embrace, far from the lust of moments before. That was the true reward, for which you fought day after day with her insecurities and with yours.
Her hugs, her caresses, her fingers tangling in your hair… That was much better than Paradise, much more pleasurable than anything else.
“Are you okay?” the lady asked after a few minutes in which your breathing was the only soundtrack. Her voice was tired, exhausted from the effort, but always, always in love.
“Yes…” you sighed, snuggling up a little more, wrapping her other arm around yourself, daring to look at her smiling face, making your ears delight in her soft and affectionate laughter. “I've never been better…”
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