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ireadwithmyears · 10 months

Text

Absent mindedly making me want you

Pairing: Ellie Williams / female reader

Word count : 12 K 💀 I swear it’s worth it I just really wanted a well rounded story even if this is just a one shot

Summary :

Due to her first-hand experience when it comes to drowning, Ellie takes it upon herself to teach you how to swim. Something that neither of you had anticipated, however, was how intimate this endeavour would be, resulting in a day filled with unresolved sexual tension, that, unsurprisingly and inevitably comes to ahead

Tags/warnings : established relationship, soo much sexual tension, smut (18+, MDNI), porn with minor plot, dom/sub undertones, soft dom Ellie, submissive reader, inexperienced reader (first time), light hair pulling, unsafe lesbian sex, fingering, oral (F receiving), face sitting, lots of dirty talk(bc you cannot convince me that Ellie doesn’t have an absolutely filthy mouth), praise kink, overstimulation, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, pussy slapping (just once), aftercare, fluff, no use of Y/N

“I’m sorry, wait, hold on. You’re telling me you’ve never learned how to swim?”

The settlement of Jackson has been dealing with, hopefully, the last of its winter storms for the year. Spring had crept its way around the corner, shining its promisingly hopeful rays of warm sunlight for a few, blissfully beautiful, but in the end, all two short days

But then, in what must be mother nature’s idea of a harmless joke, it was crudely snatched away and replaced with icy winds that seemed to settle within your very core, leaving you shivering long after you went inside to get warm. Wyoming had been hit with a blizzard that had caught everyone so off guard, that Jackson was ill-equipped and unprepared to handle it, leaving most of the community snowed in; workloads being much reduced and limited to essential services for the time being, until the snow abated.

This is how you and a group of friends found yourselves in Jesse’s living room, cradling mugs of hot chocolate, enjoying the warmth that seeped into your fingertips, and making a blanket fort as if you were still school children at a sleepover. The snowy days and lack of work seemed to bring out a childish side to everyone, which is how you found yourself engaged in a game of never have I ever, sitting in a tight circle with your friends and girlfriend who, up until a few seconds ago, had been absent mindedly playing with your hair, your head resting against her shoulder, where you had been quite content to stay.

But, she had now pulled back, looking at you with her eyebrows raised, lips quirked down quizzically, as if in thought. You look around at your friends, taking note of everyone else who’s never learned. You’re relieved to find that you’re not alone in this. As expected, the Jackson old-timers, the few of you who have been settled here almost your whole lives, or at least, as long as you could remember, had never encountered an environment that required the ability to swim.

“Nope, it’s never been necessary.” You shrug.

She tilts her head, thinking, a few wisps of auburn hair escaping her ponytail as she regards you, teeth lightly grazing the bottom of her lip as she appears to be calculating an idea in her mind.

“As soon as it gets warm enough, I’m taking you out, and I'm gonna teach you. Joel taught me because he said that I would never know when it was a skill that would become necessary for me to have until it’s too late,” she says, nodding to herself decisively.

“Ah, I see your dad‘s passed off his overprotectiveness onto you,” you smirk, rolling your eyes fondly.

She hits you with a pillow for that.

“Quiet, you,” she says in mock offense.

She pokes your belly lightly and you instinctively jump back with a surprised squeal. You hear the quiet amusement of your friends, Jesse barely containing a snort as he watches. You’re about to utter a retort when she reaches out, pulling you against her, settling you on her lap, where you happily go.

When she presses a chaste kiss to your lips, hand settling at the back of your neck, fingers brushing against your skin, leaving goosebumps to form beneath their eager caresses, any kind of argument dies on your lips. Resistance melts as if it hadn’t been there in the first place, and all thoughts scatter like butterflies, only landing on the one thing that you care to focus on.

It’s her, with her teasing lips and wandering hands, that explore and touch you as if she wants to know you, to memorize you, like you’re her well-kept and cherished secret. She is the only thing that surrounds your mind, the only one who holds your attention so easily, and it takes you a moment to shake yourself free of this haze. It’s strange, and euphoric, a kind of feeling that you’ve never felt before, and you find that you like it – instantly craving more the second that her lips leave yours.

She's kissed you plenty of times before, and though it’s always been an enjoyable experience for you, it’s never felt like that. You decide to file that information away for now; you’ll sort out whatever the fuck these new feelings are later.

When you do come back to yourself, your head nestled against her shoulder, her arms wrapped around you as she looks down at you with warm, soft eyes, you think, yeah, you’ll let her teach you how to swim. You’ll let her do whatever she goddamn pleases, as long as it means that she’ll keep kissing you like that, and bringing out those good kind of butterflies that flutter in your stomach whenever she’s close to you.

To your surprise, Ellie makes good on her promise at the earliest opportunity.

In your experience, life is full of making plans and dreams that, more often than not, fall through. Even here, even in Jackson, where the walls are fortified and everyone is protected, the act of planning future endeavours is a luxury.

Spring finally comes , for real this time, with its customary blend of warmer weather that makes everyone instinctively turn their faces towards the sun, tentatively brushing its heat against their skin. And then, in complete juxtaposition, rain that starts in a slight drizzle that quickly descends into a downpour that sends those who’d ventured outside to appreciate the sunlight running back inside, scrambling to find cover, while quietly grumbling that they wish it was summer already, if only so that they could be freed from this topsy-turvy weather.

Humans are funny like that, you suppose. Never fully able to live in the moment, always wishing for the next season the second spring reveals its more wild side. They forget that the scorching heat of summer will have them complaining and wishing for autumn to come faster in a few months.

Nonetheless, it’s early summer, and you find yourself riding astride Ellie’s mare, Hazel, whose step is light and carefree, tale gently swishing in the warm breeze as you make your way to a clearing with a lake, a few miles out from Jackson’s gates. You’ve taken up the rear position, head resting against your girlfriend's back, arms wrapped around her waist.

From her position, she can’t see the expression on your face, the way you worry. Your bottom lip is between your teeth until it starts to bleed, because quite honestly, you’re nervous. Your instinct is to hide your feelings from her, because it feels silly. “A tough girl like you all freaked out over a little water?” You can almost hear her snark in your head. Logically, you know she wouldn’t say that, not to you, at least. But you can’t help but wonder if she’d think it.

You also know, however, that the minute you’re off this horse and she turns to look at you, she’ll read right through any bullshit or lies you come up with in an instant. Ellie’s just that kind of person; able to read right through people without them even having to say a word. So, as the bird chatter accompanies the beat of Hazel’s hooves against the ground, you speak, softly, tentatively, half-wishing that she won’t hear, almost hoping that your words will be carried off in the slight breeze that ruffles the braid against your back, delicately freeing strands of your hair.

“You know, I’m actually kinda fucking scared to do this,” you figure if you’re going to admit this, it’s just best to rip the Band-Aid off.

She holds the reins one-handed as her other comes to squeeze your wrist gently.

“Can you tell me why?”

You sigh, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you rest your chin against her shoulder. She’s so warm and steady, confident and self-assured in a way that you couldn’t even attempt to replicate.

She senses your unease, moving her thumb beneath the thin material of your sweater, stroking against the skin of your inner wrist. She lets it rest at the point where she feels your pulse lightly fluttering beneath her.

“Hey.” Her voice is soft, encouraging, “Talk to me, Sweetheart, you’ve got absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.”

Her thumb resumes its movement, stroking back-and-forth along the inside of your wrist, soothing away the knot that’s begun to tie itself in your stomach.

“It’s stupid, I know. It’s just, I’m scared that I’m gonna drown, or something dumb like that,” you roll your eyes, feeling a little bit pathetic.

“It’s not stupid,” you’re not surprised that she’s come to your defence so quickly, but the conviction in her voice gives you pause.

She continues, “I almost drowned, once. Well, I guess it wasn’t almost, I did drown, though I don’t remember the details. It was before Joel had taught me how to swim, probably what made him decide that he had to. But, when he did, it took me the longest time to get over my fear. Every time I so much as touched the water, my mind would bring me back to that moment where I thought I was about to die.”

Her voice is sheepish, nonchalant, but you scoot closer to her on the saddle nonetheless, wrapping your arms just a little tighter around her waist.

“My point is, if you would have seen me when I was fourteen, the way Joel would have to coax me into the water bit by bit, you wouldn’t believe I’m the same person now. Now, I can be assured that whenever I go into the water, nothing’s going to happen to me that I can’t handle.”

She takes your hand in hers, and her voice is completely serious when she speaks now.

“Baby, you know I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, right?”

In spite of your nerves, you know the answer to this question immediately. It’s not even a question, really, you know without even having to think about it that she’ll keep you safe, protect you with her life if necessary, and you nod aggressively, even before she finishes speaking.

“I know, Elles.”

She gives your hand a squeeze.

“Good, because if my 14-year-old freshly traumatized from actually drowning ass can learn how to swim, I am fully confident in your abilities.”

Hazel trots on, and for the first time since you headed out today, you feel a genuine smile pulling the corners of your lips upward, your laughter accompanying the birdsong as you ride on.

“That’s it, just lean back into me, I gotcha.”

She’s teaching you how to float on your back, first, and as you lean against her and lower yourself into the water, you swear you feel the peak of one of her nipples, hardened from the cold, poking through the flimsy material of her tank top, brushing against your back as you submerge yourself. You have to fight to keep your expression neutral, trying not to betray anything on your face. If she asks why you’re blushing, you’ll just say it’s because of the heat.

Her hand holds you up, pressing into the small of your back as she instructs you, and it’s nice, the heat that radiates from the warmth of her skin. You feel it through your tank top, and maybe it’s because the water is cold and it’s heightening all of your senses, or maybe it’s because you’re in a pair of underwear and a tank top, feeling very exposed to your girlfriend in a way that you’ve never been with anyone, but you’re getting goosebumps, and you know for a fact that it has nothing to do with you being cold.

You hope to yourself that the feeling of having her hands on you will get easier throughout the day, because for some inexplicable reason, the feeling of her hand pressing against you like this is making it hard to focus on what she’s actually saying.

You quickly discover that it does not get easier as the day goes on.

It actually gets so much fucking harder to bear as the sun begins to sail higher in the sky.

When she’s about to teach you how to kick, her hands ghost over your hips, making you jump.

“Sorry, hun, I should’ve asked,” she apologizes softly.

You can’t bring yourself to look at her, and have to temper your voice to not sound eager as you respond. “No, you’re good, go ahead, I'm just cold, that’s all.”

When her hands caress your sides before settling against your hips, your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, trying to contain the gasp that wants to escape.

Is she truly that fucking unaware of what she’s doing to you?

The skin where her fingers had trailed over tingles, and you have to give your head a slight shake to clear it, because that touch, regardless of how innocently meant it might’ve been to her, suddenly makes you want to get on your knees and beg her to touch you like that again.

You want more.

You learn the mechanics of how to propel yourself through the water, arms and legs separately. When it comes time to put the two together, Ellie eases you onto your stomach. The water is still shallow, your toes can still touch the ground. This was as deep as you’d be going today, she had told you, making you feel relieved.

“I’m just gonna put a hand on your stomach to hold you up. You’re still gonna have my help, I’m right here,” you’re stomach muscles tense when her hand lightly presses against it. She must think you’re nervous, because she gently strokes her thumb up and down between your rib cage, in a way that should be reassuring, but in reality, makes heat radiate from between your legs. You’re grateful that she can’t see your face, because the small pool of wetness that blossoms against your panties is undeniable now, and it makes your cheeks heat.

Okay, so you have to admit it now. You’re horny. In spite of the fact that you’ve never had sex and you haven’t been ready to take that step before today, as you slowly move through the water, feeling her hand pressing against your stomach, so close but so, so far from where you want her to be, you know that you want her, in a way that you’ve never wanted anyone before.

“At a girl, just like that,” she says encouragingly, and you swear you can feel your thigh muscles clenching involuntarily, thoughts drifting to a very different scenario in which she’d utter those words.

It’s late afternoon, the sun is high in the sky, warming your shoulders as you stand in the water. You’ve long ago adjusted to its cool, murky depths, and you’re not on edge anymore.

At least you weren’t, until Ellie suggests that to finish off the day, you try moving a little bit on your own. Your eyebrows raise, in obvious alarm, and her hands settle on your shoulders, quick to reassure you.

“You won’t have to go far, I’ll be right in front of you, I promise, all you need to do is just keep coming towards me.”

You tilt your head, considering. Yes, you’ve grown accustomed to the water, but whenever you’ve been moving, she’s always had a hold on you, and you felt safe, knowing that there wasn’t even a chance that you would go under.

Seeing your still evident hesitation, Ellie steps closer, a hand grazing against your waist as she presses her lips to your forehead briefly, before she speaks, her voice low and teasing against your ear.

“Can you do it for me?” She says softly. Her fingers are tracing slow, enticing circles over your waist, soothing you, but making you feel all worked up at the same time.

She’s so close that you can feel her lips brush against your ear when she speaks, and you can’t hide the shiver that runs down your spine. You’ve lost the ability to form coherent thought, for the moment, and you have to mentally kick yourself to push your mind back into any semblance of reality. God, if she asks you like that, you’ll do anything.

You don’t say that, though. You only nod meekly, not trusting your voice to be controlled when you speak.

When her hand gives your hip an appreciative squeeze, you feel her breath ghost against the curve of your neck as she speaks. “Good girl,” she practically purrs, a quiet, low hum against your ear that makes your knees buckle so hard that you have to dig your feet into the sand beneath you so that you don’t faceplant into the water.

When she pulls back, taking slow, tentative steps away from you, she knows that you’re watching her every move. She can feel your eyes burning into her, the further she moves away, nerves making you fidget with the hem of your top. When she’s several metres away, she reaches out a hand, beckoning.

“Okay, c’mere, Baby Girl.”

Her voice is low, persuasive, encouraging you forward. But it still takes you a solid 30 seconds of anxiously staring at her before you actually begin to move. She stands, arms folded, patiently waiting for you to give in, because she knows that sooner or later, you will.

She’s not that far away, not really. She still would easily be able to reach her arms out, steadying you if somehow, even in this shallow water, you managed to bring yourself under. Still, when you kick back, and you no longer feel the assurance of the soft sand against your feet, or Ellie‘s arm wrapped securely around your stomach to hold you up, you freeze. She notices instantly, and her voice is quick to call you back, bringing your racing heart back down with a few, gentle words.

“Hey, eyes on me.”

You swim forward, it’s unsure and hesitant, but at least you’re moving. You can’t always keep your eyes on her, but when your head is lowered to the water, you can always hear her voice, which she uses to get you to keep going.

“That’s it, almost there.”

She eggs you on, making your limbs instinctively move faster, cutting through the water with an almost desperate urge to get to her. You’re reaching for her, arms ready to wrap around her waist when she meets you halfway, scooping you up into her arms.

“That’s my girl,” she whispers against your lips, cradling the back of your head as she pulls you in. Your eyes flutter shut, and you can’t help the small sigh that she elicits from you as she lowers her head to kiss you. Her lips meet yours in a slow, soft caress, searing as her touch sets your skin alight with heat. Instinctively, only half aware of what you’re doing, your legs wrap around her waist, desperately pulling yourself against her with a sudden need that is too strong to be contained.

When her hand, tangled in your hair, gently pulls, forcing your head back as she deepens the kiss, your mouth falling open as her tongue teases past your lips, you are unable to hold back the little moan that escapes you, scalp tingling at the sensation of her fingers, curled against strands of your wet hair, holding tight, keeping you exactly where she wants you.

She’s so close, you realize. Your legs wrapped around her like this, your heat pressed so near to hers. It’s enough to send your thoughts reeling. Every nerve ending in your body is alive with want and need.

Her hand makes a slow path, warm, delicate fingers journeying from your waist all the way up to the peak of your breast, leaving a trail of goosebumps to form in their wake. Her hand rests against you, leaving you warm and wanting, and just when you think that you can’t handle any more, she moves her thumb in a slow, deliberate caress over your perked, hardened nipple, which, at this point, your tank top, with its thin, soaked through material that clings to your every curve, leaves little up to her imagination. She can see you, she can see all of you. Your breath shutters, the smallest sound of want, of need, of desperation escaping your throat in a choked, pleading moan that has your back arching.

And that’s when Hazel makes her displeasure and boredom known, letting out a loud, displeased nay of indignation as she stamps her hooves against the ground.

The noise is so sudden, so out of the blue, disrupting the sounds of the water gently lapping around you, and the ambiance of nature that you’ve grown quite accustomed to hearing over the past few hours, that it makes you both jump. You startle so hard that you nearly fall into the waters below, jolting back as your head whips around to discover the source of the noise. Ellie’s arms are secure, though, you feel her adjusting her hold on you, wrapping them around you tighter. She too frantically searches the area around you for signs of trouble.

When you realize that you’re in no imminent danger, and that it’s just Hazel being her typical, dramatic self, you both look at each other, and simultaneously, slow smiles creep across your faces. She can feel you begin to shake with laughter. All the adrenaline leaves your body in a relieved, sudden rush that escapes with the quiet, barely contained snort that you desperately try to hold back. After that, it’s over. Ellie’s face buries against your hair as you both begin to laugh uncontrollably.

You feel her breathy, relieved sigh ruffle your hair. “We should probably go see what her problem is – knowing Hazel, a mosquito probably landed on her and she freaked the fuck out. God, that horse is such a drama queen.”

She rolls her eyes, but there’s an underlying affection that she can’t keep out of her voice, even if she tries.

“Probably saw us kissing and was offended. Maybe she’s homophobic,” you quip, chuckling.

Ellie gasps in mock horror. “I practically raised that horse, there’s no fucking way,” you both laugh as she begins to move towards the shore, you cradled against her with your head on her shoulder.

Riding back to Jackson when you’re extremely sexually worked up, it turns out, is no fun.

Your girlfriend, as much as you love her, is doing nothing to help the situation.

In general, Ellie prefers to ride horses that are the most chaotic, and that carry attitudes that make them almost borderline untrainable. She says it’s because she can empathize with them, she listens to them in a way that no one else does.

You think, privately, that it’s because it scares the shit out of Joel. He lives in constant fear that Hazel is going to throw Ellie off, sending his already accident prone daughter home with a broken leg and a concussion. You swear, Ellie enjoys getting a rise out of him, making his heart race with all of the reckless shit that she does.

Hazel has been sitting still for too long, and is now thoroughly enjoying the freedom of being able to trot about; she tries to take advantage of it regardless of the cargo on her back, making for a bumpy ride.

You’re riding in front, this time, and every time you hit an unavoidable bump, Ellie rests her hands on your hips. She claims that she’s doing it to keep you steady, make sure that you don’t fall off the horse. but, you know better. You know an ulterior motive when you see one. The way that her hands linger, fingers slowly teasing At the edge of your still damp top, drawing slow, light circles against the exposed skin she finds beneath, suggesting that she has other plans in mind. It makes you shiver.

“You cold, baby?” Her voice is low against your ear, the unexpected proximity making you jump. She cannot be serious. Even though it’s late afternoon, evening fast approaching, the day is still scorching, hence why you’ve opted out of wearing your sweater on the way back. You didn’t even want to put on shorts over your damp underwear, but alas, you still had some shred of modesty left, not wanting to make whoever was stationed to guard Jackson’s gates uncomfortable.

When her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her, you swear that you can feel her hips slowly moving as she grinds against you suggestively. Her lips brush against the bare skin of your shoulder, lingering as her warm breath ghosts against your skin, caressing against your neck with its heat. You can’t hold back your gasp at the feeling.

One of her hands travels down, settling against your knee with a gentle squeeze.

“How’s that, Baby Girl, is that better?”

God!

If she doesn’t fuck you soon, you swear you’re gonna kill her. Or, at this rate, she’s gonna kill you first with the way she’s sending your heart racing like that.

If you had thought that getting home, changing into a fresh pair of clothes, and giving yourself the chance to calm your racing heart would magically put an end to whatever was stirring up inside of you, you were sadly incorrect in your assumptions.

You’re sitting on the couch in your living room, wearing a sundress that falls to your knees because it’s light and you enjoy the slight breeze that it creates when you move. It flutters around your legs gently in the humid air. It might provide next to no relief at all, but it’s still better than nothing.

Ellie sits across from you in an armchair. Without even looking, you can feel her staring at you, eyes burning into you with a restrained and tempered want. You suspect that she’s holding it back, now wondering if she’s crossed a boundary today and made you uncomfortable.

That couldn’t be further from the truth, but Ellie is the type of person who acts on impulse, then completely over analyzes and over thinks her actions later, until she’s convinced herself that she’s fucked something up. She’s so bold, so confident in the things she does in the moment. But, in the end, she’s still someone who sometimes needs you to explicitly communicate and validate what she does after the fact. Regardless of how her confidence is so vast, and can sometimes be mistaken for being cocky, on the inside, she’s deeply insecure and needs reassurance.

Glancing up at her through your lashes, seeing the way that she twists and fidgets with the hair elastic on her wrist, the slight frown on her face, the almost guilty way her eyes flit away from you when she sees you looking, you know that she needs that right now, and you fully intend to not just give that to her, but encourage her forward.

Setting down the book that you weren’t actually reading, just trying to distract yourself with and completely failing, you rise to your feet, and as you move to her, she looks up at you with a smile, slipping back into its place effortlessly.

“Hey, baby, what’s up?”

Her voice is low and soft, and the way her eyes skim over you, pausing at where your dress falls, the hem barely skimming your knees, makes heat flush at the back of your neck.

“Want somethin’.”

You admit, crawling into her lap, bracing your hands on her shoulders.

“Yeah? What’s that?”

She quirks a brow, and the way her eyes smoulder as she looks at you makes you nervous, stomach fluttering with anxious butterflies as she looks intently at you.

You’ve got her full attention, and now that you do, you don’t know what to do with it. You were fully ready to take the lead on this, but at the end of the day, you’re still shy and inexperienced, and she’s everything that you’re not. To be honest, it’s intimidating, knowing her wealth of experience that you couldn’t even attempt to match.

The insistent butterflies take flight in your stomach; you decide that the only way forward is by pure instinct, and the blind hope that you won’t embarrass yourself too much.

You lean forward slowly, hesitating slightly until, with understanding, Ellie’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you the rest of the way forward until your lips meet hers, and suddenly, you forget exactly what your plan originally was, if you even really had one in the first place. It easily slips out of your mind as you melt against her, effortlessly letting her take the lead.

Her fingers brush against your lower back, holding you securely against her. This isn’t like your usual, every day kiss, one that starts off slow and gentle. Her lips are insistent, pressing against yours with a desperate, persistent need. Her fingers absently brush against your scalp, running through your hair before cupping the back of your neck, the pressure just firm enough.

All you know is her. Her lips, claiming your mouth with a possessiveness that makes you ache for her inside. Her tongue, swiping over your lips, making you gasp slightly. As your lips part for her, you hear the low, satisfied sound she breathes against you as her tongue pushes past your lips, exploring your mouth with a hunger that you’ve never sensed in her before.

Her thigh pushes between your legs, parting them with ease and settling between them, grazing against your clothed heat. When her hand schemes down your lower back, caressing over your ass, before pressing against it with a firm squeeze, you can’t resist the way your hips buck against her, desperately chasing the friction, unable to hold back the small whimper when you’re clit presses against the rough denim of her cut-offs.

The sound seems to startle you so much that you still your movements, eyes going wide as Ellie pulls back to look at you. She doesn’t even bother holding back the smirk that overtakes her features.

“Oh, so that’s what you want.”

Her green eyes darken with want, voice low and gravelly with desire as she studies you, perched on her lap with a needy expression behind your innocent eyes. Her fingers brush against your hips, teasing over your skin.

Heat flushes against your collarbone, spreading to warm your cheeks as you try to look down, wanting to escape the scrutiny of her piercing gaze. She anticipates your movement, and stops you with a hand coming to curl beneath your chin, making a soft noise of disapproval.

“Look at me, pretty girl, and tell me what you want,”

Her voice is still soft, still gentle, but there’s a warning edge that’s crept into it, an effortless authority, that sends a jolt straight through you, making your already throbbing clit pulse with anticipation. Her fingers nudge your chin upwards, holding firmly as she directs your eyes to meet hers, smouldering with uncontained lust as she watches you.

“You.”

Your answer comes out in barely a breath, barely a whisper.

“I want you.”

You feel like your response sounds ridiculous.

It sounds small.

It sounds completely inadequate.

And yet, when Ellie’s hand snakes beneath your dress, fingers toying with the waistband of your panties, her lips brushing against your ear as she says low, “that, sweet girl, I would be happy to oblige.”

She flexes her thigh up against your heat, rubbing over your swollen clit, making you cry out in surprise.

Her shirt hits the floor with a dull thump, pulled off by your eager and curious hands. You want to see her. You want to touch her. You want...

But now that it’s off and she’s looking down at you like that, your brain catches up to your body. What are you doing? What are you supposed to do? You don’t know how to do this. You don’t know where to put your hands, and the idea of fumbling around and embarrassing yourself is enough to make you nervous.

She sees the moment you begin to question yourself and overthink it, in the way that you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, the way your hand flexes, curling into itself with anxiety.

“Hey,” she says softly, waiting for your eyes to meet hers. Her hands caress up and down the sides of your arms, pulling you from the spiral that your mind was going in, bringing you back to earth with a soothing touch.

“I know that this is your first time, and I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything of you tonight. The only thing I want is to make you feel good. So just, let me do that, okay?”

When she leans in, arms wrapping around you, and her lips press against your neck in a slow, seductive kiss, she can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, and she makes a note to remember that you’re sensitive there.

You feel her lips close to your ear as she speaks.

“Just let me take care of my girl tonight.”

Her hand schemes down your side, fingers drawing teasing circles over your hip. Your eyes close and your breath comes in a sharp, unsteady inhale and all you can do is look at her, eyes hooded, and say in a shaky voice, “please.”

You feel her low chuckle against your neck.

“Such pretty manners,” she hums against your skin, before you feel the gentle graze of teeth join her lips, delivering a small, sharp sting that you imagine will leave a mark.

This thought doesn’t scare you in the way that you thought it would. Your first thought isn’t of how on earth you’re going to cover this up tomorrow. The idea that there will be physical evidence of her, of what she’s doing to you, that there will be a reminder of it in the morning turns you on, sending a thrill through you.

Her tongue replaces where her teeth had just been, gently soothing over the sting. “Good girl,” she breathes, hand coming up to fiddle with the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I want this off,”

She waits for you to nod your consent, and then she’s sliding the straps off your shoulders, letting it fall. It pools around your waist in a soft brush of its material.

Fingers brush over your stomach, and you shiver with anticipation, already knowing the path they intend to travel over your skin. Her hands graze over your ribs, before she curls them around the curves of your breasts. She looks down at them, cradled in her hands, and her lips curl upward.

Warm, experienced hands massage and knead your breasts, gentle caresses and squeezes encouraging, coaxing your nipples to harden beneath her touch. Her thumb brushes over one of the hardening buds, and you gasp at even the slightest attention. She seems to relish in drawing sounds from you, her index finger joining her thumb, as she rolls your perked nipple between her fingers, adding the slightest pinch.

“You’re so fuckin pretty, you know that? The site of these,” she tweaks your other nipple, making your breath stutter, “peeking through your shirt at the lake was teasing me all day.”

Her face buries against your neck, she becomes rougher, more insistent. Still slow and attentive, but there’s a possessive edge to it as she leaves a trail of marks down your throat, your collarbone.

You love every second of getting to see this new side of Ellie, one that you haven’t seen before. The way that she’s intently listening to your body, finding out exactly how to touch you in a way that brings out those little gasps and mules that are like music to her ears, you want to see this side of her more often.

She’s enjoying the sight of her marks on you just as much as you are; a thrill runs through her, knowing that everyone will see that you belong to her.

She pauses toying with your nipple as her hand falls to your thigh, letting her breath graze against your skin, before she leans in, lips encircling the pebbled bud with a gentle suck. You whimper as her teeth barely graze your skin, tongue swirling over the small bud teasingly. She makes an appreciative sound against you while her fingers brush the bare skin of your inner thigh.

Her thumb teases over the seam of your panties, and you swear that you can feel her lips pull into a smirk as she feels the evident wetness pooling there. When she grazes a knuckle over your clothed clit, using a featherlight touch, your hips instinctively buck, you’re so worked up.

“Ellie,” your cheeks flush at the way that she’s got you whining for her with just one touch to wear you’ve been craving her to be. “Please, I, I need you to touch me there.”

“Aww, you’re so pretty when you beg for me,” she coos, two fingers caressing over your heat.

Your head falls back, eyes closing as you try to suppress the whimper that fights to escape at her teasing.

“Ellie, please,” and if you weren’t trying to beg before, you definitely are now.

She tilts her head, a slightly pleased expression crossing her kiss swollen lips as she looks at you, thoroughly unravelled before she’s even fully gotten you undressed.

“That’s all you had to say, Princess.”

Her voice is low and smooth, calm and effortless, in complete juxtaposition to her next actions, because suddenly, your dress is being yanked the rest of the way down, Ellie tossing it to the floor in a careless heap. She lifts you with ease, flipping you around so that your back is pressed against her bare chest. Her arms curl around you, holding you close to her, fingers trailing down your stomach, scheming over the waistband of your panties. One finger hooks under, and she pauses, voice suddenly soft.

“Can I take these off, baby girl?” Her finger strokes along the bare skin that she’s found beneath your panties, just above your mound, inviting, but not moving lower.

“Ellie,” you say with growing desperation. She’s teased you all day, and you can’t take much more of it. You’ve reached the end of your rope, and you can tell, without even having to look at her, that she’s fully aware of it, she’s just enjoying teasing you a little longer, dragging out the moment for even just a few seconds more. She’s so close to where you need her, but not close enough, and you need her to bridge the distance. “You can do whatever you want,” your head falls back against her shoulder, auburn hair tickling against your face as she leans down to whisper.

“Don’t give me any ideas, princess. You might regret it.”

Her words make you shutter, but, nonetheless, she pulls, and in a matter of seconds, she’s sending your panties to join your dress on the floor, with a practiced flick of her wrist.

She doesn’t waste much time now; her hands gently part your thighs.

“Spread your legs for me, Pretty Girl, I want to see all of you.”

She coaxes, not that you need much urging. You feel her legs cage over yours, wrapping around them, holding them open for her. Fingers ghost over your curls, dipping between your lips. She collects your wetness, fingers gliding effortlessly up to your clit, coating it in your own arousal.

“Barely touched you, and you’re already soaked for me,” two fingers press against your swollen clit, drawing slow, easy circles over your heat, already making your walls clench around nothing.

Her other hand moves, pausing to give an affectionate pinch to one of your perked breasts, making you gasp in surprise, your hips instinctively jolting forward, pushing against the hand that continues to massage, tease, and press against your clit. It continues its path downward, caressing over your hip, your inner thigh.

Long, tapered fingers dip between your folds, tentatively swirling around your entrance, gathering the wetness that’s collected there. You don’t realize you’re begging until, achingly slowly, one of her fingers brushes over your tight, glistening hole. She doesn’t push it forward, only curling it slightly to pet at your entrance.

“F-fuck, please,” your head falls back against her shoulder, and your hips push forward, trying to take her inside, but to no avail.

“Such a needy girl,” she murmurs, smirking at the way that you nod.

She’s got you so desperate that you’ll agree to anything she says; you won’t even try to deny it. It would be pointless, anyways. All she has to do is look down and see the way that your hips are bucking against her to know that you would be lying through your teeth. Nonetheless, she gently eases a finger inside you and you let out a long, tremulous breath as she pushes her finger, easing it all the way inside until she’s down to her knuckle.

She’s watching carefully for your reactions and she can feel how tight you are around her; she doesn’t want to cause you any pain. But when she tentatively, curiously, crooks her finger slightly upward, searching, a jolt runs through you, your body trembling and hips jerking forward, chasing the contact. It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and you need more.

“Fuck, I, Ellie, I I want,” your hands grip onto her thighs tightly.

She presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck before whispering,“That’s it, baby, use your words. Tell me what you need,” her finger pumps in and out at an unhurried, languid pace, barely grazing over that spot that you so desperately need her to touch.

“Need more of you inside me,” you whimper, unable to keep the desperate edge from creeping into your voice. A second finger joins the first, slowly pushing through your entrance. You immediately feel the stretch, unfamiliar to having someone else’s fingers there, but you’re quickly distracted, because as soon as both fingers are pushing into you, she increases the pressure against your throbbing clit, fingers drawing rough, tight circles over your swollen bud.

The sound you make is high and uncontained.

Calloused fingers brush against your inner walls, clenching around them as Ellie stretches you out. Her fingers curl, a slight beckoning motion as she easily finds that spot inside of you. The pads of her fingers press firmly against it, fingers insistently petting at your center with small, precise strokes against your sweet spot. She's hitting that spot in a way that you’ve never been able to accomplish on your own.

You’re seeing stars, because she’s everywhere you want and need her to be, and now, the only thing you can do is grind your hips down against her fingers that are so effortlessly toying with you.

It comes out of nowhere, the coil that eagerly begins to tighten in your stomach. Your toes curl with anticipation, and your hands are gripping onto her so tightly. You’re pretty sure that you’re the one who’s going to be leaving bruises now. Her fingers continue to thrust in and out of your weeping cunt, and maintain the relentless pressure against your clit.

Ellie’s chin rests against your shoulder, watching attentively, and if you could see her, you’d see how utterly enthralled she is at how much of a mess she’s made you, eyes heavy as she watches her fingers plunge in and out of your cunt. Her voice is low against your ear, rough, commanding when she speaks.

“That’s it, Baby Girl, I want you to fuck yourself on my fingers and cum for me.”

You’ve always experienced orgasms as a gradual build, a wave, gently cresting against the shore. So, the way the coil in your stomach abruptly snaps, almost an instant after Ellie finishes speaking, has you taken completely by surprise. She’s attached her lips back onto your neck, sucking a mark just against your pulse point, which she feels fluttering rapidly beneath her tongue.

There’s the stuttering of hips accompanied by a sharp cry and Ellie feels your walls tighten around her fingers, unceasing in her ministrations even as your orgasm barrels through you.

“Good girl, fucking give it to me,” she nearly growls, as her fingers continue to fuck you through your orgasm. All you can do is whimper uselessly, rocking your hips against her hand, as thrills ignite every inch of your body, making you tremble all over.

When you come down from your high, you’re collapsed against her chest, and she’s slowly easing off the pressure.

The first thing you notice is that you don’t feel the same as you usually would if you had just done this by yourself. For some reason, you thought that you were a one and done kind of girl. Usually you orgasm once, and then you take a nap, feeling for the most part satisfied. But as her fingers slide out of you, leaving you feeling empty, all you can think is that you want more.

Then, Ellie’s holding up her glistening fingers, slick with your arousal, in front of her face. You turn to watch her, curious, as she slides them into her mouth, licking them clean. She hums, and you raise a brow questioningly as she looks down at you, her eyes bearing an expression that is almost predatory in its intensity.

“What?” you ask, already feeling goosebumps rising along your skin.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, shaking her head slightly. “It’s just, now that I’ve had a taste of you, I want more.” You turn fully to face her, lips curving into a smirk. Your hand trails over her breasts, and she looks at you with interest.

“Please,” you’re still breathless, and your voice is still unsteady.

“I want you too.”

“Atta girl, just like that.”

Admittedly, as much as you’ve had countless fantasies involving sitting on Ellie’s face, the prospect of actually doing it, as much as you want to, gives you pause. She’s carried you up to the bed, at some point along the way, the rest of her clothes came off, you’ll probably find them scattered along the hallway later. But that doesn’t matter right now.

What matters is that you’re hovering over her face, looking down at her while trying not to look nervous and out of your comfort zone, which you totally are, and she obviously isn’t buying it. Gentle hands reach for you, holding your hips and pulling you against her easily.

“All the way down, Honey, that’s it,” she coaxes, easing you down onto her. “You’re good, you’re not gonna kill me,” her hand caresses up and down your side, soothing, even as you feel her warm breath ghosting over your heat, making your cheeks flush, as you look down at how close she is to you.

“I gotcha’, Pretty Girl, just relax,” her voice is smooth, assured, confident, in a way that makes your muscles relax in spite of yourself.

That’s when you feel her tongue, warm and wet, brushing through your folds. The sensation is so new, so unfamiliar to you, that for a second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat.

Then, her tongue flattens, pressing over your clit and applying a slight pressure that has you arching against her. Her tongue curls over your swollen nub, gently drawing it towards her lips, an almost imperceptible pulling motion that has your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, finding a grip against the headboard of the bed.

She makes a contented hum as her lips wrap around your center, the sound vibrating against you making your hips jolt. Her hands curl around the undersides of your thighs, holding you in place. Your hands hold onto the headboard of the bed for dear life, feeling like it’s the only solid thing that you have to hold onto, keeping you from toppling over the edge and out of control.

You’ve never felt like this before. Each swipe of her tongue over your heat, the gentle pulse of her lips as she sucks, enveloping you in her warm, wet mouth, brings a new sensation thrumming through your veins, almost akin to fire as it shoots through you, pleasure licking over every inch of your skin like flames. It’s overwhelming, in such a way that you don’t know what to do with it, how to express it.

All you can do, at this point, is roll your hips against her mouth, hold onto the headboard, and let small, desperate whimpers escape your lips. You’re trying to hold onto some semblance of containing yourself, because you don’t know what would happen if you let yourself unravel completely. You’re terrified of what Ellie might see if you fell apart like that.

She seems to be doing everything she can to break away at your composure though. Her tongue is alternating between dragging slow, tender circles over your clit, and firm, quick strokes, that has your head falling against your hands, braced against the headboard. She flicks her tongue against you, her lips surrounding your clit in a particularly firm suck, and before you know it, you’re spilling over the edge, eyes shut tightly, and breath releasing in a long, shuttering moan that seems to run from the top of your head to the tips of your tightly curled toes, her tongue continuing to caress you over your peak.

She moans into you, and it all becomes too much. Your head is thrown back and your hands are reaching down, tangling in her hair, to push her away or pull her closer; it’s unclear in your fuzzy mind. All the while, her insistent tongue continues to swirl over your increasingly oversensitive bundle of nerves, the relentless and inescapable pleasure making you shiver all over, while a light sweat breaks out on your bare skin.

You only drift back into yourself when you become aware of a shift. It’s so fast, you barely have time to even blink, before Ellie manoeuvres you, flipping you onto your back and roughly parting your thighs with her hands. Her fingers run through your glistening folds, calloused thumb pressing against your aching, overstimulated clit. The sensation has you gasping, crying out, and trying to close your legs, buck your hips, move away.

Frantically, you try to jam your legs shut, trying to escape her mercilessly teasing fingers. Rough hands force your thighs apart, putting you on display for her as she holds you open.

“Uh uh, not this time, Baby,” she tuts disapprovingly. “No more holding back on me, Sweet Girl,” listening to the low, dominant tone of her voice is like a drug to you, and your eyes roll back into your head as she speaks.

“I want everyone to know how good I fuck this pretty little pussy.” Two fingers circle your clit and you jolt, trying to move away. But a strong arm pushes your hips down, pinning you against the bed easily.

Faster than you can process, her fingers retreat, and you don’t even have time to feel relieved, because a split second later, her hand comes down against your cunt with a smack, delivering a stinging, rough spank that has you crying out, clit throbbing and pulsing with the agonizingly delicious mix of pain and pleasure.

“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl, and you’re gonna take everything I give you.”

Two fingers notch at your entrance, but she waits, looking at you, a silent question, an invitation for you to tell her that this is too much and that you need to stop. You know she would in a heartbeat if you told her that this was too much or too rough for you right now, and that’s what makes you feel safe enough to continue.

So, when you respond by attempting to push your hips forward against her, a soft whimper falling from your lips, she smirks, and with the slightest movement of her wrist, her fingers thrust into you. Seconds later, her face is buried in between your legs, tongue gently lapping at your sensitive clit. After two orgasms, you’re hyper aware of every movement; every swirl of her tongue is sweet, hot agony that undoes you in seconds.

At the same moment her lips take your clit into her mouth, holding it as her tongue swipes a tight, rough circle over your heat, her fingers curl, and she finds that spot inside you that makes your legs begin to shake, pressing against it with each punishing thrust of her fingers.

Your moans are loud, unrestrained, sounds that you would be embarrassed to make if you were in any way capable of controlling them. But you’re not, because your mind is only filled with her, her and her tongue on your clit, and her strong fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt, playing with you as easily and as effortlessly as she plays the guitar.

She’s clearly enjoying the sounds that fall from your lips, every beg and plea and moan of her name making her feel quite smug that she’s undone you so easily…she encourages you to continue, making a contented hum against your clit. She only looks up long enough to say:

“That’s it, I want to hear you being such a dirty little girl for me.”

A third finger slowly, carefully, pushes in; the stretch makes you feel so full, so good, it nearly takes your breath away. Her fingers thrust in and out slowly, testing the waters, wanting to make sure that you’ve adjusted – but you are having absolutely none of it.

Your head is thrown back and your hips are thrusting forward, or trying to, but her arm is so fucking strong that she doesn’t even have to try that hard to keep you pinned against the mattress, exactly where she wants you to be. You don’t even realize you’re begging until you see her smirking up at you.

“Please, Ellie, please, fuck, I-I want,” it’s a challenge to even string coherent words together, but you’re distracted by her face, now looking up at you as her thumb takes over, stroking against your clit.

“Come on, Baby girl, tell me what you want,” she presses her thumb a little harder into you, making you gasp brokenly.

You take a breath to steady yourself, and your words still come out stuttered, but you say them, blushing in a way that she finds absolutely endearing considering you’re already spread out on her bed with three of her fingers buried inside of you.

“I-I want it harder,” you admit, your cheeks burning. “Want you to fuck me.”

“You’re so fuckin pretty when you use your words like that, Baby,” she praises. “Such a good fuckin girl,” then, her fingers are thrusting in and out, setting a rough pace, hitting that spot in a way that feels so much stronger than it already was.

When she lowers her head, tongue dipping between your folds, returning to feast at your clit rough, persistent swirls and flicks over your swollen center, any slight ability to contain yourself is lost. You’re not aware of the sounds that you’re making, or the way that your hands scramble to find a hold on something, anything solid, eventually coming to clutch the soft bed sheets, holding them tightly in between your fingers.

You’re only aware that your orgasm is approaching, and that Ellie, little by little, is nudging you towards a peak that once you make it over, you think might absolutely wreck you, in the best possible way. All you know is that you want this, you want her. You need her.

God.

You really fucking need her.

She feels your walls beginning to flutter around her, her free hand shifts down, coming to grip your thigh, opening you even wider for her.

“Come on, baby, wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make for me when you cum.”

She says against you, adjusting her wrist to fuck you with her fingers deeper. The new angle has you keening, hips desperately thrusting to chase the friction of whatever new spot she’s hitting.

Her tongue flattening against you as she draws firm, tight circles over your bundle of nerves, The way that your back is arching, hips uselessly trying to grind down against her and her relentless fingers, fucking into your weeping cunt mercilessly. She’s guiding you exactly to where she wants you to go, straight up towards that peak. Your vision blurs.

“Fucking give it to me, Pretty Girl, want you to cum for me, all over my fingers and my mouth.”

Your back arches off the bed, and suddenly, all you know is wave after wave of ecstasy that crashes through your body, electric shocks that pulse through you, making you jolt and flail uselessly combined with the rhythmic pumping of her fingers, and the dipping and swirling of her tongue against you.

She works you through your orgasm, never slowing the movements of her tongue or her fingers that continue to drag in and out of you, sustaining your pleasure for as long as she can possibly hold it. Her lips wrap around your clit, as her tongue swipes through your folds, collecting all the wetness that she can find. She hums against you, encouraging your loud moans, and by the time it’s over, you’re a shaking, completely fucked out mess on her bed,

If you happened to see the expression on her face as she watches you writhing beneath her, your hands twisting the sheets into knots and broken, unrestrained whimpers fall from your lips, she’s taking in the sight with immense appreciation, as if you’re the work of art she’s just created.

Turns out, the only thing that you have the ability to do post-three orgasms is roll over onto your stomach, shaking and trembling, and try, desperately, to regain your breath.

Ellie, for her part, crawls up the bed beside you, hand coming up to tenderly stroke back the hair that sticks to your forehead, before gently rubbing your back.

“Easy, baby, that’s it, just breathe for me.”

You’re eventually able to regain your breath, but your body feels floppy and light, and you can’t even begin to comprehend the slightest of movements. Ellie tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, saying softly, “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna get something to clean you up, okay?”

You nod in slight acknowledgement of her words, but your mind is still fuzzy, and the only thing that you’re really aware of right now is the sudden sleepiness that comes over you in a soft, comforting wave. You feel her stroke your hair once more before she rises from the bed, briefly pausing to look at how fucked out you are, stretched out across her bed, bare skin glistening with sweat that makes your hair stick to your forehead, eyes heavy and cheeks flushed.

“So pretty,” she breathes, before exiting.

She isn’t gone long, and when she returns your eyes are closed, head buried against a pillow. She kneels between your legs, hand reaching out to gently rub your back as you turn your head to look at her.

“Just need to clean you up, pretty,” she whispers, and you realize how sticky you are in between your legs.

“Okay,” you mumble, your voice sounding slightly hoarse, similar to the way it does when you first wake up in the morning. Were you really moaning that much?

You feel a warm, damp washcloth brushing against your inner thigh. It’s nice, soothing, but as Ellie moves towards the place in between your legs, you instinctively flinch, overstimulated and slightly sore.

A large hand splays out over your back gently. “I know, Honey, it’s okay, I've got you,” Ellie soothes.

She runs the cloth over your folds. “There we go, sweet girl, almost done.” Its brush against your clit makes you cry out, leg kicking out instinctively. Ellie shushes you gently, pressing chased, featherlight kisses against your spine, the curve of your hip, effectively distracting you while she finishes cleaning you up.

When she’s done, she throws the cloth to the side, coming to sit beside you. “Okay, Baby, I just need you to get up and go for a quick pee.” You turn your head to look at her in bewilderment, staring up at her with your eyebrows raised.

“Why?” You ask, confused. She chuckles softly at your expression.

“Because, nowadays there isn’t much to protect ourselves from any infections that we could pick up while doing this,” she gestures vaguely. “And this is the one thing that we can do to at least try to help prevent something from coming up,”

“Buuut Elliee, I don’t wanna get up,” you grumble, burying your face back into the pillow.

She sighs softly, “come on, it’ll be fast, and then we can get back into bed and cuddle for as long as you want.”

That idea is tempting, but she could just get into bed with you right now and cuddle. Plus, you want to know who gave her this information, because it sounds pretty fucking stupid to you.

“I don’t want to,” you grumble.

Ellie playfully hits you with a pillow. “Come on, Lazy Ass,” she’s guiding you to sit up now, in spite of how much you’re resisting, because the bed is so warm and soft.

“Besides,” she reasons, “we both go out on patrol in three days, and I am not dealing with you having to dismount your horse every five minutes because you got a urinary tract infection and now you need to pee every time we hit a bump on the path.”

You dramatically sigh in defeat. “Okay, okay, I get it, Jesus Christ,” you roll your eyes in mock exasperation, but the smile pulling at your lips betrays your true feelings. “On one condition,” you say, folding your arms across your chest.

“What?” Ellie is fighting to restrain a smile, because you’re just too goddamn cute when you’re like this.

“You have to carry me there and back,” you say, reaching your arms up like a child who wants to be picked up.

She sighs, feigning annoyance, but she’s already positioning an arm beneath your knees. “You’re such a fucking brat,” she mutters against your hair as she cradles you against her chest.

You snuggle into her, smile growing wide as she moves towards the door, holding you in her arms. “Don’t lie, you love it.”

“Shut up ,” she says, hand sneaking around to give your ass an affectionate squeeze, making you gasp and giggle in surprise, instinctively kicking, nearly falling out of her arms in the process. But her hold is secure, arms tightening around you as your cheek presses against her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, babe, I got you.”

After gently setting you back in bed, once you’ve finally gone to the bathroom, grumbling the whole way there and back, Ellie went to get you a glass of water. She’s been gone for less than 30 seconds, and you already miss the feeling of her body, Strong and warm and steady, pressed against you. While she’s gone though, you entertain yourself by letting your eyes roam over your body, finding the evidence of her, left behind on your skin. You discover each new mark, each trace of her presence imprinted on you with the anticipation and joy of a child finding Easter eggs.

Your hand runs over your inner thigh, Lips pulling into a smile as you take in the sight of the finger shaped bruises that she left from where she gripped onto you so tightly. The site makes a warm, tingling feeling settle in your stomach.

You don’t hear her approach from behind you, and she must not see the expression on your face.

“Did I hurt you? Was it, was it too much?”

You turn, eyebrows raised and already shaking your head with vehemence, to find her watching you, biting her lip, concerned frown on her face.

“What, no, no, Ells, it’s just,” you avert your eyes, the blush creeping onto your face is mortifying, and in spite of everything you too just did, and how you had expected talking about things like this would be easier now, it’s still hard to admit it out loud.

She catches your chin in her hand, gently redirecting your eyes back up to meet hers. Seeing her so close to you, you don’t have to look hard to see the anxieties, trying to be contained and hidden, but dancing behind her eyes nonetheless.

You feel your heart clench. She’s opened up to you about her past on a few occasions, but when she has, it was easy to sense how fearful she was of her own inclinations towards violence, regardless of how necessary and imperative it might have been for her survival. She’s like a fire, impulsive and easy to set off, her flames all-consuming without a second thought. But after, even now, even when all this is small bruises marking your skin in the heated passion of lust, that will fade and be gone within a few days, she’ll still twist herself into knots, thinking and overthinking until she’s convinced herself that she’s ruined you.

“Please, Babe, tell me the truth,” her voice is soft, barely a whisper, but you hate the way that there’s a slight tremble in it, so uncharacteristic of Ellie. It breaks what’s left of your embarrassment, and the words fall from your lips without hesitation now.

“It wasn’t too much. It’s just, I-I liked it...the marks... I think it’s kind of hot.”

You wonder, in the back of your mind, if she can feel the way your cheek heats beneath her hand, resting against it ever so lightly. Her breath comes out in a soft, surprised laugh, and you’re relieved to see the concerned edges fade from her expression, a smirk instead overtaking her lips. “

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispers, fingers coming to trace over the scattered marks, littered across your neck and collarbone.

“You’re cold,” she observes, hands running up and down your arms, goosebumps beginning to form there. You hadn’t even noticed that you had begun to shiver.

When she crawls into bed behind you, wrapping her arms around you, Holding you against her, her warmth settles into your bones, running through you like melted chocolate. She brings the glass of water to your lips, insisting that you drink, and refusing to back down, in spite of your protests that you’ll need to get up to go pee in the middle of the night and does she realize how annoying that is?

She does, but she still coaxes you to drink half the glass.

You hold the glass up to her, pouting slightly. “Now you drink some, I feel like you should, too, because you were doing a lot of work, you know, with your mouth,” you say suggestively.

“Oh my God, shut up,” she groans. She gives you a playful shove that nearly makes the glass tumble from your hand. But she has quick reflexes, and her hand is steady against yours as she gently grabs your wrist, preventing the spill.

“Careful, Hun,” she cautions, plucking the glass out of your hand easily. “If only to appease you,” she sighs dramatically, before tipping it back and draining the glass.

The inevitable crash that you hadn’t, but probably should’ve, anticipated hits you all at once. It starts with a sigh that quickly turns into a yawn that seems to take all of your energy with it. You move to shrug your shoulders, brush it off like it’s nothing, because honestly, it’s only just starting to get dark outside, you can’t go to sleep right now, it’s just too early.

Your bones feel oddly heavy, sore in a way that shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. Adrenaline, and passion have temporarily blinded you to trivial things, like being a human and having a body that can get physically exhausted, especially after trying so many new things at once. You wince because fuck, you hadn’t realized how tense you had been holding yourself today until now, and the consequences are quickly setting in.

She’s watching you, observing you closely as she always does. She doesn’t say a word, but she intuitively understands.

She brushes your hair off to one side, and you shiver as your bare neck and shoulders are exposed to her. Warm hands settle over your shoulders, there’s a gentle squeeze, an unspoken question, an offering. The way your head falls forward, the low, contented noise that falls from your lips is all the ascent that she needs.

Her thumbs gingerly press into the tense muscles beneath them. She hums sympathetically, feeling how tender you are beneath her. She keeps her movements slow and precise as she presses her thumbs against you, applying a slight pressure, running them over the backs of your shoulders, gently encouraging the tension to release. She’s ceaselessly patient, only continuing her path upward when she can feel your muscles relax, giving into her ministrations.

She continues to massage across your shoulders and your upper back, seeming to find and undo tension in places that you didn’t even realize you were carrying. It makes you sleepy, the gentle caress of her hands gliding over your skin, paired with the firm press of her knuckles, exactly where you need it.

One of her hands slowly runs up the back of your neck, gently cupping you at the base of your skull. Her fingers smooth over your temples, stress easing away as your eyes flutter shut. Her other hand continues to press and massage in between your shoulder blades, firm and insistent as she smooths her thumbs over the tight knot that’s gathered there, with patient persistence, making it unravel at her touch, and forcing the tension to leave your body.

“Relax, Pretty Girl, I’m not going anywhere,” her voice is a low rumble against your ear.

Her lips brush over one of the bruises she’s left on the side of your neck, and suddenly, it’s like all the tension bleeds out of you, draining so quickly that you don’t have time to catch yourself.

She laughs softly as you try to contain the yawn that tears through you as she eases you back towards the pillows. She wraps a soft blanket around both of you, covering your bodies and making sure you’re tucked in securely.

She settles in behind you, warm, bare skin pressing against yours as she curls herself around you. A strong arm wraps around your waist, gently tugging you close to her as her leg hooks over yours.

You’re barely awake, only aware enough to snuggle into her, saying sleepily, “if this is the treatment I’m going to get after one swimming lesson, what are you gonna do when I’ve mastered it?”

There’s a soft chuckle, low against your ear as she whispers, “don’t worry about that, pretty girl, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.”

She kisses the top of your head, lingering for a moment as she adoringly watches your eyes flutter. You sigh with contentment, letting a sleepy smile graze over your lips. Maybe she doesn’t realize what she’s doing, maybe she isn’t even aware…but, in this moment, you’re surrounded by her.

Her safety.

Her warmth .

Her unconditional and unwavering love is curled around your heart as closely as she’s curled herself around you. She’s here, she’s safety, she’s love,and right now, she is all that you could ever want.

this was actually my first attempt at writing smut, and in spite of how nervous I am to share it, I’m actually really happy with how it turned out. So if you enjoyed it, please let me know, notes, comments, and re-blogs are so appreciated. Thank you so much for reading

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams fluff #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #the last of us #The last of us part

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omgrachwrites · 3 months

Text

Heather - Chapter Two

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x Bartender!Reader

Summary: You’ve fallen for the smart college kid who frequents the bar your work in. The only problem? He has a girlfriend.

Warnings: fluff, angst, swearing

A/N: I'm sorry this is so late! Hope you guys enjoy, please let me know what you think and let me know if you would like to be tagged! I love you all! xxx

masterlist

Chapter Two

Dinner was painful, both physically and mentally, it was painful every time Heather reached across the table to hold Lip’s hand. It was painful every time your parents cooed and fawned over him, you could see it in their eyes that they disapproved of him. But, they wouldn’t say anything, nothing against their darling daughter’s boyfriend. The worst part was that Lip believed every word they said, couldn’t he tell they were bullshitting?

Lip looked at your sister with so much fondness in his blue eyes that it hurt to watch, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from them. All you could do was sit back and drink your wine. The dreaded question came about halfway through the first course.

“So, how did you two meet?” your dad asked as he took a sip of his whiskey.

Your sister practically glowed at the question as she grinned over at Lip, “when he walked into my English lecture and sat behind me, kicking my chair the whole time,” she giggled.

You paused slightly and looked over at Lip who was hunched over his plate and you could see a flush starting to form on his cheeks. You remembered how much he had complained about having to take an English class and you talked him into it, telling him you would help out as much as you could. He’d met you first and he still chose her? It stung.

Just before dessert, you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, you had to catch your breath and force the tears back. You decided to text Jess.

‘I need to get out of here, gonna leave before dessert, have a glass ready for me? xx’

She texted you back a couple of minutes later, ‘you know it! Xx’

Taking a deep breath, you plastered a smile on your face and left the bathroom, both Heather and Lip looked up at you as you walked back in, “I have to get going.”

Your parents looked like they couldn’t care less, while Heather and Lip spoke in unison, “you do?”

You nodded, “yeah,” you smiled as you pulled your sweet sister into a hug, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

Heather smiled, “yeah, next time I’ve got a day off we’ll go for lunch.”

You nodded, though you knew what lunch with your sister would entail, she would gush about Lip the whole time. The guy you had practically fallen for, “it was nice to meet you, Lip,” you gave him a tight smile.

He nodded but didn’t say anything back.

You glanced back at Heather, “I’ll text you,” you smiled before you walked out of the door.

Before you could get down the porch steps, you heard footsteps behind you, “Y/N, wait.”

You glanced over your shoulder to see Lip hurrying after you with a lit cigarette dangling from his lips. He was so gorgeous, it hurt.

“So, what? We have to pretend like we don’t know each other?”

You sighed as you looked at his face, “it’s for the best, after all, you’re just some guy that comes into the bar,” your tone was nonchalant and you had to play it like he meant nothing to you. A look of hurt flickered over his face and in that moment, you hated yourself.

“You know that’s not all we are, I wanted to make an agreement that we wouldn’t make things awkward. I know we both like a bit of a flirt,” he chuckled and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

The only thought in your head was that you had to protect yourself, “you realise that’s my job, right? I get more tips if I flirt with men.”

Lip raised an eyebrow, a response quick on his tongue, “but you never let me pay.”

You rolled your eyes, all you wanted to do was tell him how you felt. But you couldn’t, “whatever, Lip.”

Lip took a drag of his cigarette as he ran a hand through his hair, “I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you, but whatever it is, Y/N, I’m sorry.”

You shrugged as you kicked a stone onto the driveway, “I guess you’ll be wanting your sweater back?”

“What?”

He didn’t remember? “the sweater that you let me borrow when the heating was broken at the bar.”

“Yeah, Y/N,” he nodded, “I remember the sweater, why the hell would I want that back? I gave it to you, you look much better in it,” he chuckled.

“Thought you might want to give it to your girlfriend.”

Lip bit his lip as he shook his head, “I didn’t give it to her. I gave it to you,” his voice was so soft and sincere.”

“I gotta go, Lip. I’ll see you,” you smiled weakly and this time he let you walk away.

As soon as you walked into the bar, Jess saw the look on your face and she poured more wine into your glass until it was full to the brim. Without a word you walked behind the bar and gulped the wine down, almost finishing half of it in one go.

“I take it dinner went great?” she laughed, before you could reply or even make a face you spotted Ian, Lip’s younger brother walk out of the bathroom.

“Hi, Y/N,” he smiled as he sat at the bar and took a sip of his drink, “what’s wrong?” he asked with a laugh when you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Did you know your brother had a girlfriend?” you asked.

Ian shrugged, “I knew he was seeing someone, I thought,” he trailed off, biting his lip. He only answered when you raised an eyebrow in question, “I thought he was seeing you.”

You scoffed as you took another gulp of your wine, “close, he’s dating my sister.”

Ian’s eyes widened and Jess let out a gasp of shock as she rubbed your shoulder, “oh sweetie, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

You thought about it for a minute, were you okay? Eventually, you settled on a nod, “yeah I’m okay. A little hurt that he met me first and he still wanted her,” you thought back to the conversation you’d had with him outside the house, “oh god, I was such a bitch to him.”

With another large glass of wine, you told your friends what had happened outside the house and how you tried to make it out like Lip meant nothing to you. Ian smirked – it seemed like the first time Lip had been given the cold shoulder by a girl – while Jess gave you a disappointed look. The guilt only grew as you drank more wine and you knew that you needed to apologise. If he apologised would he forgive you?

When Jess went into the back to get more wine, Ian looked at you, “you know I am a little surprised that he’s dating your sister. Did you have a boyfriend when you guys met?”

“No, why?” you asked and Ian bit his lip, you knew he was contemplating how much to tell you, “oh come on, don’t do that! You can’t just start and not finish.”

Ian laughed as he ran a hand through his short hair, “god, would you just chill? Lip’s my best friend. Mostly, we tell each other everything and when he first met you he came home raving about how he’d just met the most beautiful girl in the world.”

You flushed, hoping it was true, “then why is he dating my sister?”

Ian shrugged with a sad look, “I don’t know, because he’s an idiot,” he chuckled, “look Lip cares about you, he’d never hold a grudge against you,” he smiled, answering your silent question before he checked his watch and slid off the bar stool, “I gotta get to work, how about you come over next Friday for dinner? Lip comes down from college.”

You scoff, “I’m not going if he’s bringing my sister.”

Ian grinned, “Lip usually comes over way before dinner. How about I text you and let you know?”

“That would be great,” you grinned and waved at him as he left the bar.

You decided that now would be a good time as any to call Lip, it would definitely be better to do it now before you got drunk and started another argument with him. Or told him too much. Shelving your pride, you selected his name from your contacts and called him. It rang for a little bit too long and you were worried he was ignoring your call. Just before you were about to hang up, he answered.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Hi,” you smiled, relieved when he answered.

“So, what can I do for you?” he prompted you when you fell silent and you had almost forgotten why you were calling.

“I wanted to apologise,” you sighed, “you were right, we are more than just strangers, you know if you want I can tell Heather that we know each other? I’ll make up some excuse to why I was pretending like I didn’t know you,” you laughed.

“No, no, it’s okay. Don’t tell her, you were right, it would be best if she didn’t know that we already know each other,” he paused, “I accept your apology by the way, I’m sorry too.”

“I don’t like fighting with you.”

“Me neither,” another pause, “does that mean you’ll help me with the Gatsby essay?” you could hear the smile in his voice.

“Wow, just using me for my amazing writing skills?” you giggled, “why don’t you ask my sister? You guys can have a little middle school study date,” you fought hard to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

Lip laughed, “oh shut up! Besides, my plagiarising off of you is something special that we share, don’t want to ruin it.”

“Of course not,” you giggled.

“Listen, I gotta go but thanks for the call and I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you smiled, “bye, Lip.”

“See you later, Y/L/N,” he laughed before hanging up the phone.

You smiled, you were glad that you had managed to work things out, it didn’t mean you had to like it though. Though you supposed you’d better get used to it if you wanted to keep your relationship with Heather and your sister intact. You wondered whether Jess could introduce you to any cute guys.

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

Taglist: @heyits-zedo

#lip gallagher #phillip gallagher #lip x y/n #lip x reader #lip gallagher x reader #bartender!reader #reader insert #college!lip #college au #fluff #lip gallagher x you #lip x you

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vodika-vibes · 3 months

Note

Hello my dear Vod’ika! Tis I, 💋 anon! First, congratulations on your first follower event!

Maybe I please have jonquil (please return my affection) and dark pink rose (gratitude) with Echo and F!Reader? Some fluffy, soft cuteness with Echo being in love with her and he finally tells her when they have a quiet moment together?

Love your writing 🩵🩵

Pen and Sword, my dear!

Love,

-💋 anon

@kiss-anon

So This Is Love

Summary: You invited Echo to go stargazing, and hidden feelings come to light.

Pairing: ARC Trooper Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 975

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @kiss-anon

A/N: The words didn't wanna word this morning, so I'm very sorry if this isn't the quality that you prefer from me. Still, I hope you like it!

“You’re staring, Echo.” You say with a warm grin as you turn to look at the man sitting next to you. The man who’s supposed to be watching the stars with you, but instead has been watching you for the last ten minutes.

“Well, how could I not?” Echo asks, amusement crossing his handsome face, “I see the stars all of the time, but I only get to see you every now and then.”

You shake your head and laugh quietly, “You’re being silly. I’m not anywhere as pretty as the stars.”

“Hm. Agree to disagree,” Echo counters.

This time you laugh louder, “Alright, alright.” You grin at him, “Thank you for coming with me.” You pause, “Actually, thank you for always humoring my weird requests.”

“None of your requests have been overly weird, I don’t think.” Echo replies.

You squint at him suspiciously, “What about the time I asked you to help me look for Moon Flowers at midnight.”

He pauses, “I…got to spend time with you, and we had fun.”

You laugh and lean against his shoulder, “You’re something of a soft touch, Echo.”

“I am not!” He sputters as he bumps you with his shoulder, “I’m considerate.” He adds primly.

“Uh-huh, that too.” You say with a grin, as you settle your weight against his shoulder, “Still, I appreciate it.”

“Well, you don’t have to. I like spending time with you. You’re so much more interesting than my brothers.”

“That’s mean.”

“You haven’t met my brothers,” Echo says dryly.

“I’ve met…Fives and Jesse! I think.”

“That is true. I’m sorry about that.”

You laugh, “They’re not that bad. A little…intense, I suppose, but not hard to get along with.”

He smiles at you, “I’m glad you like them, honestly.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Echo flushes and averts his gaze, “Ah…not reason. I just like that my friend doesn’t hate my twin.”

“Echo?” You lean over slightly to look him in the face, “Are you lying to me?” You ask, startled.

“...maybe, just a little.”

“Oh, come on, Echo! It’s me! I’m not going to judge you for what you say.” You pause, “Oh! Is it Fives? Does he have a crush on me?”

“Fives has a girlfriend who he’s completely obsessed with.” Echo says quickly.

“Then why does it matter if I like them or not?” You prod as you lean across him so you’re able to look him in the eye.

Echo stares at you, long and hard, for a lot longer than he normally would, and then he laughs softly.

“Echo?”

He lifts his hands and presses them against your cheeks, gently squishing them. “You’re so pretty, you know that?”

“Oh. Thank you.” You reply with a bright smile. “You’re not too bad looking either.”

“I have good genes,” Echo jokes, as he loosens his grip slightly.

“You definitely have those,” You say with a laugh.

Echo stares at you for a moment, and then a quiet curse falls from his lips, before he leans in and presses his lips, feather light, against yours.

You’re so surprised that you topple across his lap and have to roll so that you’re looking up at him, your eyes wide in surprise, “Echo?”

“I suppose I should have given you some warning,” He jokes softly, as he looks down at you, his thumbs rubbing soft circles on your cheeks, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You smile up at him, your face heated with flustered embarrassment, “You just surprised me. But, why did you-?”

“I love you.”

Your words die in your throat and you blink at Echo, startled, “I…oh….thank you?”

Echo shoots you an odd look, “You’re welcome?”

“I, wait. No. That’s not-” You pause and squeeze your eyes shut, “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant to say. Give me a second to-” You take a deep breath, to settle your nerves, “Okay. You can tell me what you need to tell me.”

He watches you evenly, a small smile on his lips, “I love you.” Echo repeats, “I love how excited you get about little things, like that purple frog you got a picture of the other day. I love how you have no qualms about dragging me to help you find things that don’t exist. I love how you’re able to find beauty in everything, even things that aren’t beautiful.”

Your face heats even more, and you roll to press your face against his stomach, “Echo! You’re embarrassing me!”

“Deal with it.” He says with a grin, which softens as he brushes his hand through your hair, “I love how you’re always so happy to see me. And nothing would make me happier than you returning my affection.”

You sling your arms around his waist, “You’re asking for such a small thing Echo!”

“It doesn’t feel small.” He replies quietly, “It feels like everything.”

You don’t say anything for a moment as you tighten your arms around him, “I love you too.” You finally admit, “I have for a while.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Was…embarrassed.” You mumble, “Didn’t think you felt the same. Didn’t think you would feel the same.”

“Will you look at me? Please, cyare?”

You loosen your grip and roll so your head is resting on his lap again, he has a wide smile on his face, and you’re helpless but to smile back, “I’m glad I was wrong,” You whisper.

Echo laughs softly, “I am too.” He brushes some hair out of your eyes, “So, what do you think? Want to be my girlfriend?”

“Yes, please.” You whisper. And then you squeak as Echo effortlessly moves you so that you’re sitting on his lap.

“Good, that means I can kiss you again, right?”

And your face burns as you press it against his shoulder, but you have a grin on your lips and you nod eagerly.

#star wars #tcw #vodika-vibes follower celebration #arc trooper echo x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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raaorqtpbpdy · 3 months

Text

Have You Ever...

Danny gets invited to a hero convention as Danny Phantom, and his booth is next to none other than the legendary Ben 10, one of Danny's own favorite heroes. But when the two start playing a modified version of Never-Have-I-Ever to alleviate their boredom between handshakes with fans, they accidentally expose some things they didn't really mean to.

You can also read it on AO3

Written for X-over Danuary Week 2024, Day 1: Ben 10 | Prison Thanks @crossoverdanuary for running this!

I got a late start because I had DnD today, and I finished this at like 10pm, so I didn't have time to edit. I'm planning on editing it later this week, but until then, sorry for any mistakes. [Edit: it has now been edited]

[Warning for mentions of past traumatic experiences]

It was weird to see such a huge convention center so empty.

Well, it wasn't completely empty, but a few people carrying boxes and setting up displays was a significantly smaller crowd than Danny would normally expect to see in a place like this.

"Ah! Danny Phantom you're here!" A woman with a high ponytail and a convention staff t-shirt walked over to him. "Wow, I'm so excited that you actually came!"

Her voice was familiar.

"Sally, right?" he guessed. "Sally Braddock?"

"You remembered!" She said brightly.

Sally had been the one who'd convinced Danny to come to this convention. She'd offered him pretty substantial payment, but it was only when she told him he could have three free tickets to the convention as well that Tucker told him he had to agree or they wouldn't be friends anymore.

So here he was, at San Diego Hero Con, halfway across the country, to sit at a table and sign autographs for a few hours each day, and then do an hour-long panel with a bunch of other teen heroes, and another tomorrow on specifically ghost hunting. (He was still debating whether he should actually show up to that one, or if it would be too dangerous.) The worst part, though, was how early he had to wake up to set up his booth before the event started.

"Here's your presenter badge," Sally said, and handed him a bright yellow name tag clipped to a blue lanyard with the convention's logo on it. "Celebrity meet-and-greets are over there. I'll lead the way. We try not to put them too close to each other or the lines get out of control, but your booth is right next to Ben 10's."

Danny perked up at that. "The alien guy?"

"Yup!"

Oh, man, he hoped he'd get the chance to talk to him. Ben 10 was Danny's favorite superhero. He got to fight real life aliens, sometimes in actual space! And sure, Danny had been to space before that one time Technus had taken over a satellite, but it had still been a ghost fight. It wasn't the same.

"So, this is your table," Sally said, pointing to an empty, white folding table. "Do you have a tablecloth, or banners or headshots or anything?" she asked him with a tight smile.

"Uh.... I don't photograph well," he replied.

Sally sighed. "Well, I can bring over one of the convention tablecloths, but you really should get some kind of poster or cardboard cut-out or something that shows people who they're meeting. And you'll definitely need something to sign. Comic books, or T-shirts. Anything, really. There's a portrait artist in Artists Alley who works pretty fast, her name is Jess. If you get something from her, I can send a gopher to make copies for you to sign."

"Uh, okay? But, I can just call a friend to bring something."

"Whatever works." With that, Sally left to go organize something else.

Danny called up Sam, who was back at the hotel with Tucker—Tucker would no doubt still be sleeping—and asked her to find a nearby print shop and get a Danny Phantom Banner to hang up and a whole bunch of 8x10 illustrations of him. He let her pick the picture, but asked her to please not pick anything too embarrassing.

Right as he hung up, a pair of people approached the booth next to him carrying plastic tubs. It was none other than Ben 10 himself and a tall, furry, blue alien who was no doubt one of his allies. (That or a cosplayer, but since they were with Ben 10 himself, Danny felt safe in assuming that they really were an alien.) The two of them placed their tubs on the floor and opened them up to start unpacking their display.

"Woah, hi!" Danny said, louder than he meant to.

Ben 10 snapped his head around, muscles tensing. Danny recognized that response all too well, and tried not to let out a sympathetic wince.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you," he said. "You're Ben 10, right? I know this is cringey to say, but I'm a huge fan."

"Uh, thanks? Just Ben is fine."

"I'm Danny Phantom, but you can just call me Danny."

"I can see that... uh... nice to meet you?" Ben replied. He seemed uncomfortable. Had Danny come on too strong.

"Something wrong?"

"What? No, of course not," Ben said, though it wasn't very convincing.

"I am Rook Blonko," Ben's companion said, offering Danny a handshake which he excitedly accepted. "It is an honor to meet another hero, though I will admit, it was only recently that I came to learn about you."

"Oh, yeah," Danny let out an awkward laugh and rubbed the back of his head. "My scope is a lot more regional and sometimes not very... in this dimension."

"That would be... the Ghost Zone, right?" Ben said casually. "What's it like? Anything like the Null Void?"

So he was at least somewhat familiar with Danny and his exploits. Danny tried not to let that go to his head, but he couldn't help feeling a little giddy nonetheless. Ben laid down a black tablecloth with his logo on it and spread it across his table. This definitely wasn't his first rodeo.

"I don't know about the Null Void," Danny said. "It's like the bottom side of this dimension. It's where ghosts live... or... not live. Reside. Almost everything is green because of all the ectoplasm there, and when humans go there, they can pass right through walls and objects just like ghosts can in this dimension."

"That does not sound like the Null Void at all," Rook observed, pulling rods and boards out of one of the boxes and assembling them into a small standing shelf.

"What's the Null Void like?" Danny asked.

"Mostly red," Ben said with a shrug. "Full of floating islands and enormous aliens. Used as a penal colony for this dimension's worst criminals."

"Oh... yeah, no. Aside from the floating islands, that doesn't sound anything like the Ghost Zone," Danny agreed. "Although it's kind of a cool coincidence that we both have experience with alternate dimensions."

"Yeah, I guess so." Ben looked over at Danny and his sad excuse for a booth—really looking for the first time. "First time at one of these things?"

"Oh yeah," Danny confirmed. "My friend is bailing me out at a print shop right now, but I was so unprepared."

Ben snorted. "Here," he said, digging through one of his boxes and pulling out a bright green swath of fabric. "You can use one of my tablecloths. I brought an extra, just in case. It has my logo on one side, but if you turn it around so the logo faces you no one will be the wiser. We have basically the same color scheme, so it works out."

"Thanks," Danny accepted the tablecloth, slightly surprised, and spread it out over his table. It was almost exactly ectoplasm green, just a shade or two darker. "Have you been to a lot of conventions?"

"A few," Ben said.

"This is your fourth," Rook said.

"That sounds right. If it hadn't been for Rook, I probably would've been just as lost as you at my first one. He's all about preparing in advance. But yeah, I've been a public hero for over a year now, and since my identity isn't a secret anymore, it's easier for the people who run these things to get a hold of me."

"About that... why don't you have a secret identity?"

"It wasn't exactly my choice," Ben replied. "Some kid found it out and exposed me on the internet. It turned out surprisingly well, though, for the most part. Must be nice for you though, not having an alternate identity—not that being dead is nice or anything like that—I mean, it's not a bad thing—or it is a bad thing? I uh... yeah, I don't know what I'm saying."

After taking a moment to parse that rambling sentence, Danny burst out laughing.

"Hahaha! Is that why you're acting so uncomfortable around me? Because I'm dead? Ha! You don't have to worry about that. You're fine."

"Serious?"

"Dead serious," Danny replied with a smirk.

Ben shook his head with a soft laugh. "Alright, fine.... Actually, that's not the only reason. Back when I was ten and just starting out I had... a bad experience with a ghost-like alien of mine. Ever since, ghost stuff just puts me a little on edge."

"Oh... I see. Well, don't worry, I won't take it personally," Danny said. "Did you really start doing this when you were ten?"

"Yeah. Although I kinda retired for a few years when I was eleven, and started up again when I was fifteen."

Danny did some quick math in his head. "Oh, so altogether, you and me have been in this for about the same amount of time. 'Cause I got started a little over two years ago."

"Yeah?" Ben was silent for a few moments. He pulled out boxed figurines of his alien forms and lined them up on the shelf Rook had assembled. "So... when did you...."

"Die?" Danny finished for him. "I was fourteen. I'm almost seventeen now. In about three months, I mean."

"Do you still age?"

"Sort of?" Danny shrugged.

He and Jazz had come up with an answer to this question a little while ago, when people noticed that Danny Phantom was starting to look older, even though ghosts supposedly didn't age.

"A ghost's body is a reflection of their mental image of themself. In the Zone, ghosts don't really age or change unless something specific happens that makes them feel older or different. Because I spend so much time in the human world still, because I learn and grow with each fight, I still feel like I'm growing up, so I look like I'm growing up, too."

"That is fascinating," Rook said. "I would love to learn more about ghostly biology."

"I would love to tell you about it. Problem is, I really don't know that much," Danny told him apologetically. He shrugged. "Sorry. I'm a superhero, not a scientist."

"I'm here!" Sam called, her heavy combat boots tromping into the room. She was carrying a large cardboard box. "I would have been here sooner, but I had to put together a design for the banner. Luckily I found a printer that could make one for you on short notice like this, or you'd be screwed."

"You're a life saver!"

"You wish," she scoffed. "I got you a banner and three hundred head shots."

"That's not gonna be enough," Ben said immediately.

"Ya think?" Sam asked.

"Trust me."

She sighed heavily in annoyance. "Okay, I can go back and get some more, but you so owe me, Danny."

"Yeah, I know," Danny said, taking the box from Sam. "You're the best!"

"Yeah, yeah," she said, taking one of the head shots off the top of the stack and leaving again.

"Is that your friend?" Ben asked.

"One of them," Danny confirmed, setting the box down on the table. "That's Sam. She and Tucker have been with me since the beginning. He's probably still asleep at the hotel."

He pulled out a stack of head shots for the table and slid the box with the rest underneath. She'd picked a good picture. It was a poster illustration for a local ghost awareness presentation he'd done a while back, and he nearly sighed with relief when he saw it. He'd been half afraid she'd pick one of the grainy newspaper photos of him in his underwear.

"That's cool," Ben said. "Yeah, I don't think anyone could do this job without allies. When I first started, I had my Grandpa and my cousin, then my cousin and my best friend, and now I have Rook as my partner."

"We have been together for a year," Rook added.

"Like... together together or...?"

"Working partners," Ben clarified insistently. "It's not like that."

"Oh, okay, my bad."

Hoping to alleviate his embarrassment, Danny unfurled his new banner and flew up to hang it on the wall behind his booth. It looked cool, but not too complicated. Just his name and logo and a little bit of ghost designs around the edges. Sam had done a good job with it.

"You are not the first to think that," Rook consoled. "It is a more common assumption than one might think."

They continued chatting idly while they set up their booths. Danny got to ask Rook what kind of alien he was, and what his home planet was like. Sam showed up with a whole bunch more photos and then immediately abandoned them to get a sneak preview of artist alley before she came back as an attendee.

Just before the convention center officially opened, Danny worked up the courage to ask Ben for an autograph, and Ben obliged him with a smile, offering an exchange, rather than asking for payment. Danny eagerly accepted, signing one of his own pictures and trading it for Ben's. Ben's looked far more professional than his own. He hoped people wouldn't be disappointed.

As people started trickling in past the security checkpoint up front, both heroes only got a few people in the beginning. After only about twenty minutes of boredom, Ben suggested they play a game.

"Sure," Danny agreed. "What game?"

"My buddy Kevin calls it Reverse-Never-Have-I-Ever, and my cousin calls it Have-You-Ever." Ben said. "See, we could never play regular Never-Have-I-Ever, because we all knew all the weird stuff we'd done and we'd target each other mercilessly. With this version, You say something you have done, and anyone who hasn't done it loses a point. If everyone's done it, no one loses a point."

"Okay... I think I get the idea, but why don't you start? Five fingers or ten?"

"Let's start with five," Ben said. "Rook, you playing?"

"I will pass," Rook said. "I always lose this game."

"Alright, if that's what you want." Ben shrugged. "Alright, Danny, have you ever... transformed into a different species?"

"Yes."

"You have?!"

"Uh, yeah. I went from human to ghost. Duh."

"Oh... right, duh," Ben agreed, shaking his head at how foolish he'd been to blow his first question like that. "Wow, I can't believe I didn't even think about that...."

"My turn, right?" Danny said. "Have you ever fought an evil alternate version of yourself?"

"Yeah, like six of 'em."

"Okay, well, now you're just showing off."

Ben smirked. "Oh, I never get to use this one on my friends. Have you ever been to space?"

Danny smirked right back. "One of my rogues possessed an orbital satellite."

"Damn it!"

Someone walked over to Danny's table and he smiled at her, pointedly ignored the way she shivered when he shook her hand, and signed a photo for her.

"Okay," he said, shifting his attention back to the game, "have you ever... been cut in two."

"I regenerated, but yeah."

"How?" Danny demanded.

"Plant alien."

"I should've guessed. Stupid plant creatures with their stupid regenerative powers. Undergrowth-ass alien. Lame."

Ben laughed at him while he signed a figurine for a fan who came to his table. "How about this. Have you ever fought a medieval-style knight?"

"A knight? Hold on." Danny considered that for a moment. Had he? He'd rescued Sam from Dora's realm that one time, and yeah, he'd definitely had to fight the ghosts of knights then. Oh! Also Fright Knight. How could he forget about him. "Yes, I have definitely fought knights on several occasions. Ghost knights, obviously."

"Ugh! I really thought I had you with that one. Why do ghosts who died a thousand years ago have to stick around for so long?"

"Nope!" Danny teased. "Okay, how about this one. Have you ever fought a ghost?"

"Define ghost?" Ben asked.

"The law defines a ghost as any creature which produces ectoplasm, is composed of ectoplasm, or requires ectoplasm to survive," Danny recited.

There was no need to say which law—that would be the anti-ecto acts. It was stupid that those stupid acts were still even law when public support of ghosts had never been higher. Although, they hadn't been as heavily enforced the last year or so, since the G.I.W. lost a lot of funding after repeatedly failing to catch their most wanted, Danny.

"Then yes, I have," Ben said. "Have you ever fought an alien?"

"Define alien."

"A creature originating from a planet or plane other than Earth."

"Then yes, ghosts."

"Ah ah ah!" Ben argued. "Ghosts are the spirits of dead humans, which means they originate on Earth."

"Except that not all ghosts are the spirits of dead humans," Danny countered right back. "Many ghosts originally formed inside the Ghost Zone, which makes them, by your definition, aliens, and I have fought them, too. Also I fought off some Incurseans back when they invaded the Earth a little while back. It was awesome."

Ben groaned.

"Haha! Gotcha!"

"Just go already."

"Have you ever died?"

"Ha! Yes, I have," Ben said, as if dying was some huge victory. "You probably thought you had me, but you were wrong. I may have been brought back through alien magic and/or time travel, but yes, I have died. Speaking of which, have you ever time-traveled."

"Psh, have I time traveled?" Danny scoffed. "I have literally met the Ancient, omniscient Master of Time. He's a huge pain in the neck."

It was at this point that more people started accumulating at the two heroes' tables. Some got in line for autographs, though both Ben and Danny were too engrossed in their game at this point to give their full attention. Others just stood, watching, and listening to the two of them. A few even started filming their little game.

"Alright, my turn," Danny said. "Have you ever... oh, I have a good one! Have you ever had to fight your best friend after he copied your powers which then caused him to lose his mind and become evil?"

"Literally how?!" Ben shouted.

"Is that a no?"

"No, I meant 'literally how' as in how has something that specific happened to both of us?"

"No way!"

"Yes way! That's happened to Kevin more than once."

"What?!"

"I know, right?"

"It is also strange for this game to go so long without any of the participants losing a point," Rook said. "I believe it is at this point that I would have lost, had I been participating."

"You put up a good fight, Rook," Ben joked.

"But... I was not playing?"

"I was teasing, Rook."

"Ah, yes."

"Whose turn is it now?" Ben asked. "Mine, right?"

"Yeah," Danny confirmed.

"Have you ever had a limb severed?"

"Yes, but I'm a ghost, so I reattached it pretty easily. Have you ever altered the fabric of reality?"

"I once had to recreate the entire universe after it got destroyed, and then went on intergalactic trial for doing it. And the worst part is, ever since then, grape smoothies just don't taste the same. It's so frustrating. I did get this super comfortable hoodie out of it, though."

"Ew, smoothies?" Danny grimaced. "What are you a yoga mom?"

Ben stood up, slamming a hand on his table and with the other, he pointed accusingly at Danny. "Smoothies are delicious, screw you!"

"You're just frustrated because I'm winning."

"You're not winning, neither of us have lost a single point! But you will!" Ben declared. "Have you ever saved the whole entire universe."

"Yes."

"What?" Ben fell back into his chair, deflated.

"A while back, this one group, the G.I.W. tried to destroy the Ghost Zone with a special anti-ghost nuke, and I stopped them. The Ghost Zone is the flip side of our dimension, so if it had been destroyed, it would have taken our universe along with it. Hence, I saved the universe. I just didn't let it get all over international news first."

"Boo!"

"Isn't that my line?" Danny said.

Ben threw a sharpie at him and he turned intangible and let it pass right through him while he laughed at his own joke.

"Anyway, have you ever visited an alternate timeline where the entire earth is barren and desolate and the alternate version of you rules supreme?"

"Yes, I call it the Mad Universe, because it looked like Mad Max, you know?"

"Oh, yeah, I guess I can see it. But really? You have?"

"Yup. The alternate version of Rook was a jerk."

Rook frowned but didn't have the chance to say anything before Ben kept talking.

"Have you ever... I don't know... every time I go weirder, you just match me. Have you ever had a family member be friends with one of you enemies?"

"Yeah, my dad considers my archenemy his best friend in the world," Danny said. "The feeling is not mutual, though. Have you ever been imprisoned by one of your enemies?"

"More times than I can count. Have you ever asexually reproduced?"

"Do clones count?"

"No!" Ben refused.

"Yes," Rook argued, possibly still upset about Ben's jerk comment. "Technically, cloning is a form of asexual reproduction."

"But could they fly?"

"I don't see how that's relevant to asexual reproduction, but yes," Danny said. "They were ghosts. They could fly. Most of them were too unstable to survive though. There's only one left." He frowned.

"Oh... sorry."

"It's... fine." It wasn't fine. He still found himself lying awake at night thinking about them sometimes. Danny shook his head and plastered on a determined grin. "I really think I've got you this time, though."

"Do you?" Ben did not sound convinced.

"Have you ever had to fight sentient food that was not still alive?"

"Y—wait...." Ben frowned as he thought about it for a long moment. "No... I haven't."

"Yes!" Danny cheered and Ben buried his head in his hands, humiliated. "This puts me in the lead."

"Not for long," Ben said. "Have you ever eaten food from another planet?"

"Wha—noooo...."

"Ha!"

"We're dead even again."

Their game continued.

"Have you ever fought a cult's subject of worship?"

"Have you ever had a Christmas-themed battle?"

"Have you ever fought on the same side as one of your enemies?"

"Have you ever been called upon to end a war?"

"Have you ever unexpectedly developed a new power that caused you trouble?"

"Have you ever used your powers to get out of other responsibilities?"

"Have you ever had to skip out on something you were really looking forward to and save the day?"

"Have you ever been blamed for property damage your enemies caused just because you happened to be there at the time?"

"Have you ever been mind controlled?"

"Have you ever fought an evil circus?"

The game kept going on and on, while they absently shook hands and signed autographs, with neither of them giving up another point. Until Sally showed up to tell them it was time to go to the teen hero panel they were on.

It was only then that they looked up and saw all the cameras that had been recording their game. How long had they been recording? How much had they gotten?

"Uh... right," Ben said. "Sorry everyone. You can come back for autographs after the panel. And Danny, I think we're gonna have to call it a draw."

"We'll have to have a rematch some other time," Danny said, trying to keep his tone light, despite his sudden anxiety.

Sally led the two of them to a large room with rows upon rows of empty seats, right down the aisle to the stage up front where a man in his thirties was already standing, and a masked teenage girl with glowing pink hair and eyes was sitting behind the table.

"Hello, I'm John and I'll be moderating this panel," the man introduced. "This is Lucky Girl, another teen hero we invited. Lucky Girl, this is Ben 10 and Danny Phantom."

"Nice to meet you," Danny said.

"I can't believe they roped you into this," Ben said, smiling at the girl like he knew her.

"Shut up," the girl barked back. "We can't all gain international fame overnight, and I have to pay for student housing."

"You two already know each other?" John asked, surprised.

"Oh yeah, we've known each other for a long time," Ben said. "All our lives, in fact."

"Ben, I swear if you give me away I will hex you so bad your children's children's children will travel for miles just to spit on your grave."

Ben put up his hands in surrender, and took his seat without another word. Danny followed his lead. This Lucky Girl didn't seem like the kind of person he wanted to mess with.

Once they were all in their seats, John gave them a quick run down of how the panel would go. He would ask a few questions. They would answer. He would open it up to questions from the audience, and they would answer those too. After an hour, the panel would be over, and they would return to their booths, or in Lucky Girl's case, simply leave, as she apparently didn't have a booth.

"She uses her powers to disguise herself, but she can't keep that up for more than an hour and a half," Ben whispered to Danny, clearly sensing his confusion. "She'll probably hang around for a little while after to greet fans, but she'll have to leave when her mana's drained."

"Oh, okay, that makes sense," Danny whispered back, nodding. "I was worried it might be like a sexism thing."

"As if she'd stand for something like that," Ben scoffed.

Soon enough, the doors opened, and people started trickling in. The seats filled up with mostly teens and young adults, with a few parents and older adults sprinkled in. Danny noticed Sam and Tucker come in and sit in the back row and waved at them. Rook was also sitting in the back row, trying not to draw attention to himself. Although, it seemed like most people thought he was a cosplayer, so he didn't really have to bother hiding.

When the doors closed, John started the panel.

The first part was easy.

John asked questions like: "How do you balance being a hero with the other responsibilities you have as an adolescent?"

"Honestly, not well. You know how people say 'you can sleep when you're dead'? Yeah, that's a lie."

"I'm lucky enough to have a good memory so I don't have to study much, otherwise my grades in school would tank. For me, the real struggle is finding time to do chores."

"I prioritize my other responsibilities. I don't usually face world-ending, city-destroying threats like these two, which allows me the luxury of saving hero work for after my homework is finished."

And: "Where do you go when you want to de-stress after saving the day?"

"I usually go over to my friends' and play video games. I feel safe around them."

"If the sun's still up, Mr. Smoothie. But if it's late, I like to go out for chili fries."

"The library. I know it makes me sound like a nerd, but whatever. I am a nerd. Who cares."

And: "How do your parents figure in to you heroic activities?"

"They... don't know. They don't exactly have a great opinion of ghosts, and they don't recognize me when... I mean, they don't recognize me anymore. So I guess they don't figure in." That wasn't entirely true, but Danny wasn't about to say they shot at him in front of a crowd of hundreds of people.

"My parents are actually very supportive. At first, they wanted me to quit, because they were worried about my safety, but I changed their minds. They raised me to know right from wrong, and to help others whenever I can, and they're proud of me."

"My parents don't know either, and I don't live with them right now because I live on my school campus, so I guess, like Phantom, my parents don't really figure in either."

They were easy questions to answer, even if Danny didn't always tell the whole truth. John kept things light, focusing mostly on them being teenagers, and how being a hero affected that aspect of their life, rather than the other way around. There were a couple questions about battles and enemies, but for the most part, they avoided the heavy stuff.

Then, about halfway into the panel, John opened it up to the audience to ask questions.

They didn't shy away from the heavy stuff.

"Hi, I'm Mandy, big fan," said a girl with curly brown hair. "I have two questions for Ben, first is, are you dating anyone?"

Ben chuckled, trying to sound amused, even though, up close, Danny could tell the question made him uncomfortable.

"No, I'm not dating right now."

The girl giggled for a moment before asking her next question. "My next question is: when you're fighting an alien invasion basically by yourself, do you ever feel afraid?"

Ben didn't answer right away. He took a breath, and nodded.

"Yes," he said. "I know I'm strong, and there's a lot that I can do and have done, but when I'm outnumbered a thousand to one, yeah, I'm a little afraid."

"Not that you were ever actually by yourself," Lucky Girl pointed out.

"Heh," Ben rubbed his neck awkwardly. "That's true. Even if there weren't many, I've always had people in my corner."

The next person who stepped up was a guy in a Danny Phantom T-shirt which read 'it's not gay if he's dead.'

Danny immediately groaned and Ben grinned hugely. "Before you ask your question, I have a question for you. Where did you get that shirt?"

"I got it at a souvenir shop when I went to Amity Park, but I think you can buy them online, too," they guy said.

"I'm getting one."

Danny groaned even more insistently.

"My question is for Phantom. If you hadn't died, do you think you still would have become a hero, and protected your home from ghosts?"

"Honestly? I don't know," Danny admitted. "Amity Park does have other ghost hunters, the Fentons and Red Huntress, for example. If I hadn't d... if I didn't have my powers, I wouldn't really have the ability to protect anybody. I'd probably leave it to the ghost hunters who were better equipped."

"And for Lucky Girl, are you single?"

"Ha ha no," she said flatly. "I have a boyfriend."

"Figures."

Next up was a girl in some pretty fantastic Lucky Girl cosplay. Her wig even lit up. Although she looked like she was quite a bit taller than the real thing.

"Lucky Girl, do your periods ever interfere with fighting crime?"

"Uh... that's a bit personal," Lucky Girl said instantly, as if the answer was instinctive.

But when she saw the way the girl reacted like she'd been slapped, hunching in on herself with shame, Lucky Girl bit her lip and answered anyway.

"Actually... the life of a superhero is really stressful. The kind of stress that has... biological effects. When I first started fighting crime as, like, a regular thing, I didn't have a period for months. When I finally did again it was... you know what, I'll spare you the details. Suffice it to say, it was really bad. Like, my doctor prescribed me pills to stop me from menstruating bad. So... I guess the answer to your question is 'not anymore' and also sorry for the TMI." She finished with a short grimace.

"Thank you for answering," the girl said before going to sit back down.

Ben covered his mic and turned to her. "How come I never knew about that?"

"Are you kidding?" Lucky Girl muttered back. "Like I'm gonna discuss my cycle with a fifteen-year-old boy."

Ben didn't even attempt to argue with that.

As... much as those questions were, it was the next one that really stopped everything in its tracks.

"Hi, I'm Michael. I don't know if you know about this video that's going around. It was only posted, like, less than an hour ago, but it's really blown up in fan circles already," the young man said. "The video shows Phantom and Ben 10... I guess playing a game or something? Where you guys are asking each other if you'd done certain things and basically comparing experiences with each other? Do you know it?"

Ben and Danny shot each other anxious looks.

"Uh... I haven't seen it, but I think we know what you're talking about," Ben answered cautiously. "Is that your question?"

"No, my question is... well, in the video you guys are talking about alternate timelines, and fighting evil versions of yourselves, and getting mind-controlled, and changing reality. I guess my question is. Did all that stuff really happen to you guys?"

Neither Ben nor Danny wanted to answer. They didn't look at each other, or the crowd. They deeply regretted playing a game that revealed such personal secrets in a public space.

Finally, Ben cleared his throat. "Yes, all that happened." Danny nodded his own confirmation. "The life we lead is a dangerous one, and it demands sacrifices, and it takes a lot from you, and it puts you in a lot of strange situations that few others can understand. It's... not for everyone."

The next fan stepped up to the mic. "Follow up questions. First, how are you guys like... functional? Because I mean, if I'd gone through the kind of stuff you were talking about in that video, I think I'd have a mental breakdown. Second, why would you put yourselves through all that?"

"Well, first off, bold of you to assume I've never had a mental breakdown," Danny said. "And secondly, if we don't do it, who will?" he asked. "We're not just random ordinary high schoolers who up and decided to subject ourselves to unspeakable trauma just for the fun of it.

"We do this because we have the power to do things others can't, to fight enemies other people can't fight. We do this because if we don't... if we don't, people die. Or worse. People experience the kind of things we do trying to protect them. So I guess the answer to both of your questions is, what other choice do we have?"

"Yeah, exactly what Danny said," Ben agreed. "I tried to give up my powers, and my responsibilities once, and people got hurt because of it. My grandpa.... Because I wanted to live a normal life, to take it easy, there was no one else to protect them. It is every individual's responsibility to do what they can to help others. It just so happens that we can do more than most, and that comes with drawbacks.

"Lucky Girl, care to weigh in? You weren't in the video, but I know you've had your share of superhero related trauma."

"I think you guys pretty much covered it," she replied. "I don't think I've been through quite as much as you two, but I definitely know about the sacrifices we make for this life. I also know that it's worth it to know that the people and places you love are safe and protected because of you."

The boy's both nodded in agreement.

The questions didn't really lighten up after that. "What's the worst experience you've ever had as a hero?" "Have you ever failed to protect someone?" "We heard Ben 10 say so already, but have you ever wanted to quit, or wished you never had powers in the first place?"

After a point, John noticed how uncomfortable they were getting and had to step in and ask that the next few questions not be so dark.

A younger girl, maybe even a middle schooler, hand mercy on them at last, and asked, "What was the funniest thing that ever happened to you while you were saving the day?" and from there the questions finally eased up.

It felt like it had been far longer than an hour when the session ended, and they left the stage and returned to their booths to sign autographs and shake hands and listen to dozens of people gushing, "I'm you're biggest fan!"

They didn't pick up their game again, even when things got slow. Evidently they'd learned their lesson. And they kept learning it as more and more of the people who came to visit them asked about that video. Each time Danny had to smile and laugh it off, the regret deepened.

It had been a while since he felt like such a complete idiot. Since he'd done something so thoughtless. He'd gotten a lot better at keeping secrets over the years, but he'd just been so excited to talk with someone he had so much in common with—and yeah, he'd probably gotten a little too competitive also. He should have known better.

"So uh... I was at your panel earlier," said a girl who placed a science magazine on the table for him to sign. The cover touted an article about 10 Things You Didn't Know About Ghosts (they have their own culture!). Danny remembered doing that interview.

"That's nice, thanks for coming," Danny said, his smile tensing. "Do you want me to sign the cover, or the page with the article."

"The cover please," the girl said. "For Marnie. And um... I was too nervous to stand up and ask before, but... I was really curious."

"Oh?" Danny asked, keeping his eyes on his hand as he signed the cover 'To Marnie, stay spooky'.

"Why would you make it a game?" she asked. "Wouldn't it be better to try to forget all those things?"

"Easier said than done," Danny said. "Things like that stay with you. Turning them into a joke or a game takes the power away from those bad memories. When you're laughing at your fears, what can they do to you? That's the way I see it. Ben might have another reason, and technically, it was his game. He came up with it."

"So... what you're saying is, laughter is the best medicine?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Danny agreed. He slid the magazine back to her. "Thanks for coming by."

Finally, Danny's shift was over, and Ben's ended at the same time. Just in time, too, because Danny was just about out of photos. He'd have to get more for tomorrow. He signed his last picture with a sigh of relief, thankful that the convention staff had come by to cut off the line when it was about time for him to be finished.

"You finished too, Danny?" Ben asked.

"Yup."

"You wanna go get lunch with us? Wait... do ghosts eat?"

"We do, but I was gonna meet up with my friends for lunch today, and then explore the convention a little." Danny said. "Are you gonna be here tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'm here for the whole con," Ben said. "Here, let me give you my number. We should keep in touch."

"Totally!" Danny agreed. "It'll be nice to have an actual superhero friend. I love Sam and Tucker, but there are some things...."

"Yeah, I get what you mean."

After swapping numbers the two of them headed off to their separate engagements. Danny transformed and got to experience what else Hero Con had to offer without getting swarmed by fans like he saw happening to Ben that afternoon.

They met up again the next day. Chatted at their booths, had lunch together, checked out the fan artists, just hung out for a while. This time around, Danny didn't have his human form to protect him from the crowds.

That video of their game haunted them both for the rest of the convention. People kept bringing it up until it became almost more annoying than mortifying.

When Hero Con finally ended, they both breathed sighs of relief. The convention was over, but Ben and Danny kept in touch. They never did have that rematch though. In fact, they were both pretty much done with 'Have-You-Ever'.

#dp #danny phantom #danny fenton #ben 10 #ben tennyson #gwen tennyson #fic #things i wrote #crossover danuary week #crossover danuary week 2024 #crossover #party games #past trauma #humor #dp x ben 10 #dp crossover #dialogue heavy

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slasher-male-wife · 1 year

Text

What slashers do on their s/o's birthday

So today is my birthday. I'm officially 17 and I wanted to celebrate with a fic for myself and any other April babies. I hope y'all enjoy this.

Includes: Carrie White, Michael Myers, Leslie Vernon, Candyman, Norman Bates and Jesse Cromeans

Warnings: Implied stalking in Leslie's part

Carrie White

She's going to bake you whatever cake you want her to make. She's going to go all out for you on your birthday. Like she's putting effort into making this for you.

A gift from her is going to be a special birthday outfit that she made. She had you pick out the pattern and the fabric beforehand and gives it to you to wear on your birthday.

Also probably makes you a card. That or she writes a very heart felt note in a card she bought in her cursive hand writing.

She's also cooking you your favorite dinner. Whatever it is you want she'll make it for you. She's never had a special birthday that she got to celebrate so she wants to make it special for you.

I also feel like she'd be more open to physical affection on your birthday. She's a more reserved person so her holding you hand or giving you a kiss on the cheek is a big deal to her, but she's doing it because you mean so much to her.

Michael Myers

Might not remember that it's your birthday. He's a kind of busy guy who's already doing a lot by not killing you and being your boyfriend so he doesn't think it's a big deal if he forgets.

He in general doesn't understand why people celebrate birthdays. He thinks it's a little dumb but he's not going to say that, or really anything, to you.

When you remind him, he goes out and steals a gift for you. Something he's heard you mention before. Most likely from someones house. But if he's feeling like it he might steal it from a store.

If you're really close to him he'll put a tag with his name on it. It's going to be horrible hand writing that you could barely read but him writing "from Michael" is something really special.

If you have a cake on your birthday he'll happily eat some with you. Depending on how close you are, he might lift up his mask and eat it in the same room as you but it really depends on how long he's known you.

Leslie Vernon

He's been planning this since he first laid his eyes on you. At first you were going to be a victim but he ended up catching feelings for you and now you're dating. But that hasn't stopped him from learning everything about you.

He's going to be a bit of an asshole and act like he doesn't know that it's your birthday. He's going to act like it's a normal day and ask you to go out and get something so he can set up a surprise for you.

That surprise being something that you've wanted for a very long time. Whatever it is he finds a way to get it for you and sets it up while you're out of the house.

Also buys you a cake. He tried to make one himself but he was so bad at it that he had to throw it away and clean up half the kitchen.

He also does try to scare you a little bit. He just likes scaring people and you're one of them. He's sorry about it afterwards if you didn't like it but he thought it would be funny.

Candy man

He doesn't know his birthday, even if he did when he was alive he'd probably forget it by now. But he always remembers your birthday, for as long as you're with him he'll remember it.

I feel like he didn't know how to write when he was alive but in the afterlife he learned how to, meaning he's going to write you a lengthy love poem. He's going to be detailing everything he loves about you in this poem and more.

He's also getting you flowers, partly because of his bees, partly because he's a classic romantic. He's not getting you just any flowers either. He's stealing you your favorite flowers.

He's also taking you out on a date. A non-traditional one because, well he's an undead man who has supernatural powers. But it's still nice. Probably a walk around at night somewhere romantic.

I feel like he doesn't eat food because he doesn't need to but if you have cake for your birthday he's happy to sit with you and enjoy it together.

Norman Bates

He has your birthday marked on his calendar the moment he realizes that he loves you. He double checks before writing it down on his calendar and having a countdown.

He's going to make you breakfast in bed. Whatever your favorite breakfast foods are he's going to make them for you and serve you in bed, but he's going to stress not to get crumbs on the bed.

Like Leslie he's getting you a special gift that you've been talking a lot about. Anything that you really want he's going to get for you one way or another.

He's probably going to buy you a cake. He might make one and if he does it turns out pretty good because it was his mothers recipe. But he might get too anxious to actually do that so he's going to most likely buy a cake for you.

Like Carrie he's going to be more physically affectionate too. He'll be pretty nervous the first time he holds your hand for an extended period of time but he ends up craving more physical affection.

Jesse Cromeans

He's going to spoil you the entire day, no matter if you want him to or not. This man has money to burn he's not going to let you act like you don't deserve to be treated.

He either buys you gifts you've wanted or just gives you a ton of money to go shopping with him. He'll probably find some subtle way to ask you before your birthday and plan according to that.

He also takes you out to whatever fancy restaurant you want to go to. He's a rich and powerful man so he can get his assistant to get you two a table at whatever restaurant you want to go to.

If you want a cake for your birthday he gets the best bakery nearby to make you one according to your exact desires. He writes down exactly what you want and has his assistant help with getting it done.

You know how people put cash in cards for your birthday? Jesse stuffs way too much cash in your card. As if all of what he's doing today isn't enough, you're getting at least 3,000 dollars in your birthday card.

#carrie white x y/n #carrie white x reader #michael myers x y/n #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #leslie vernon x reader #leslie vernon x y/n #candyman x reader #daniel robitaille x reader #norman bates x reader #norman bates x you #norman bates x y/n #jesse cromeans x reader #slasher x y/n #slasher x reader

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haven-is-happy · 1 year

Text

Meeting the family

Summary: Echo gets some shore leave and turns his comm off

Word count: 2,3 k

Warnings: Just kissing, this is completely sfw

A/N: Had a ton on fun writing this, I hope it's good enough for your expectations. The sentence prompt is in there

Tags: @cloneficgiftexchange @wizardmando

As a general rule (gently suggested by Captain Rex to the 501st), Echo is not to be disturbed when calling with his girlfriend. Not only because of possible less-than-innocent activities on the call, but also because of how damn happy Echo was when he ends the call himself undisturbed.

When he got together with Y/N, his optimism skyrocketed. Every mission, assignment and battle was done quickly but thoroughly, so he could come back to her. He made the other troopers work faster to be done with the paperwork (much to the displeasure of Fives), cleaned up when others didn’t want to, anything to get rewarded more time off.

Even general Skywalker noticed a difference. Echo no longer went with any crazy plan Fives threw on the table. He’s stubborn enough to convince them of a safer route, or staying behind on base for the craziest assignments.

“I want to come back home,” he answered every time. Nobody asked him what “home” was. It was against regulations, but everyone turned a blind eye.

Rex has never actually met her, but he was sure he like will like her when he does.

—---

“Well, call him again! What if it’s an emergency and we need to leave for an impromptu mission?”

Despite Rex loving his men with all his heart like brothers, sometimes, he gets quite frustrated with their headstrong attitude. Especially if he does a headcount at breakfast and finds some of them missing.

“Maybe he went to a bar and slept over?” Jesse suggests and shovels a spoonful of military rations into his mouth.

“Impossible. It’s been more than a day. Echo is not that kind of person,” Kix counters, “I would expect that more from Fives.” He points at the trooper with his clean spoon, his face sporting a half-smirk.

From the other end of the table, he hears an offended “OI!”.

“Don’t pretend to be offended, Fives, your tab at 79’s is still open. Besides, Echo has someone waiting for him home, he wouldn’t do that.”

As if a lightbulb went off in his head, Kix turns to Rex.

“Have we checked if he isn’t with them?”

Rex shrugs. “We don’t even know if the person lives on Coruscant, much less know their location.”

Fives froze for a second in realisation. He starts hitting Jesse next to him, as if possessed.

“She is on Coruscant! I have her address in case of an emergency!”

The entire table groans.

“Then kriffin lead with that!” “Fives!” “And you didn’t tell us this sooner?!”

—

"Hear me out: Melted cheese with carrots."

"You know what, that actually might be good."

Since your leftovers ran out for lunch, Echo and you were brainstorming cooking ideas.

Well, it is more of "Echo says a food combination and you shoot it down". It sometimes feels like he has no sense of taste, his tongue fried from eating republic rations all the time.

The holomovie has become white noise at some point, background in your conversation while you cuddle on the couch.

"The carrots have to be boiled so they don't crunch, we could maybe even use blue cheese," you list off ingredients, in thought.

"I'm sorry, WHAT cheese?!" Echo is half horrified and half curious at your statement.

"Oh, you know, a cheese that has a bit of grown mold on it. It adds flavour and it's not bad for the body at all," you explain, watching his expression go from 100 to 200.

"How could mold on cheese be anything other than bad?"

"Actually, I have no idea. It just is," you shrug and pull out a datapad, putting in a shopping list.

Echo peers over your shoulder.

"Does it really need that many ingredients?"

"Yeah. You need the pasta, salt - which we already have - and the sauce needs some cream, garlic, cheese and carrots. If you want to spice it up we can add some ham," you say, counting the ingredients on your fingers. You're by no means a master in the kitchen, but you want to feed your boyfriend food with ACTUAL flavour.

Echo lays his head on top of yours, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"Can you teach me how to do it? I want to cook you something someday," he mumbles into your scalp, pressing another peck after he finishes the sentence.

"I will if you want to, but you don't need to cook me anything! I can always look up recipes or we can order takeout."

"But I want to."

It makes the corners of your mouth rise and warmth spread to your chest. What the republic thinks is a hardened soldier is also a softie who wants to learn how to cook for someone he loves.

"Thank you, love."

Echo doesn't need to move his head to see your smile, he just knows. The tone is obvious to him.

"Cooking is really complicated," he puffs out.

"Oh you have no idea. Pasta is mostly simple to do, one of the easiest dishes in fact," you point out. After sending the shopping list into the app, you toss the datapad to the side.

Now just to wait half an hour for the groceries to arrive, carried by a simple task droid.

You don't want to point your attention towards the TV or go out shopping. It feels like you're wasting precious time you have while Echo is on shore leave. You want to be wrapped up in him for the entire remainder of his vacation.

Curled in his side, you can feel every single muscle of his athletic body through the thin shirt of his blacks. He knows you don't mean anything by it when you snake a hand under his shirt and start drawing shapes into his skin.

As always, his skin is warm to the touch, bringing you instant comfort.

By the time the movie ends, the hypnotic nature of drawing circles into Echo’s skin puts you in the sweet zone between awake and asleep. His chest rises and falls as he watches the credits (something only he ever does), syncing your breathing with his.

Warmth blooms in his heart at your sleepy form, like small fireworks in his veins. He feels as if body will burst.

“I cannot stop smiling when I look at you,” he whispers to you, making you smile in return. He isn’t even sure if your brain registered it or turned it into a pleasant dream.

He slowly moves by centimetres on the couch into a more comfortable position to take a nap and let you snooze.

However, before Echo could even begin falling asleep with you, a sharp ring makes him flinch out of his own head.

An adorable whine leaves your throat.

“Is the food here?” Echo asks and gently takes your arm off him, getting up to get whatever is at the door.

“Hopefully,” you grumble out and lay down flat on the couch, covering where Echo was sitting.

“Can you put everything but the bread in the fridge? I’ll cook in an hour,” you speak up, louder than usual so Echo hears you through the apartment.

You hear the door open and then-

“What the kriff are you doing here?!”

You shoot up from the couch so fast your head nearly spins. Echo rarely swears so to you, this would be a jedi-level threat.

“Well you didn’t answer your comm so Fives told me where your partner lives-” “That information is for emergencies!” an identical voice replies to your boyfriend before getting shot down by (what you assume is) your Echo.

When you get into the line of sight of the door, you realise why.

There, right outside the threshold of your door, stand at least six clones, all wearing the same armour Echo has left neatly in a pile by your shoes. All of them have lines, triangles and patterns painted on their helmets in blue, black or red.

Echo’s legion.

“Well you weren’t answering your comm and… oh…” a blonde trooper in the front with his helmet under his arm speaks out and trails off when his eyes land on you.

“Yeah, I have told you I am away.” You’d think his annoyed voice is hot if you weren’t in a situation that could put him at such risk.

Right behind the blonde clone (who you assume is his caprain Rex from what he Echo told you) is a clone with a standard haircut and a number five tattooed on his temple in galactic basic.

His twin, Fives. You remember his tattoo from a conversation you’ve had with Echo. You wanted to meet him some day as he means so much to your boyfriend, but you have hoped that the meeting would be in better circumstances.

Before anything else can happen, you want to diffuse the situation. You don’t know if a clone trooper legally be in a relationship, as the war made the Senate refuse to look at anything else (certainly not look at the rights of the soldiers fighting said war). You might be in deep waters.

“Good afternoon sir. Is Echo in trouble?” You inwardly grimace. That was such a stupid question to ask, acting guilty in the court before even getting called to the stand.

A small smile gets to the captain’s lips.

“No, he isn’t. We’re just here to check on him because he wasn’t answering his comm.”

Some of the weight leaves your shoulders. You really didn’t want the first meeting with his brothers to be about disciplinary actions.

Echo’s entire face goes red, caught in the act. “I thought I put it on emergency only,” he tries justifying.

“Next time, double check. I sent you a message an hour ago. We wanted to know where you are,” another clone, one with a republic tattoo across his face, suggests.

“I told commander Cody that I am taking a day of shore leave. Did he not tell you guys?” Something shifts in Echo, like a knot coming loose. His stance shifts to be more relaxed and a single hand reaches out for your own.

His captain takes out a datapad and reads through messages while you two watch, previous anxiety dissipating just a smidge .

“Ah, Cody got called away yesterday for a diplomatic mission.” The captain puts away his device and turns back to Echo.

“I- didn’t know that. Sorry Rex” utters your boyfriend and squeezes your hand. You squeeze back, seeing the guilty look on his face.

“It’s alright, you couldn’t have known, General Kenobi got the call and needed to leave immediately,” the blonde, Rex, reaches out a hand and pats his shoulder.

Then, his head turns to you and he nods respectfully. “Nice to meet you ma’am. We’ll be going, sorry to bother you.”

“No problem at all,” you reply and watch the troopers utter variations of hellos and goodbyes, with his twin being the last to leave your porch.

He sends you a mischievous smile and reaches out a hand to shake yours. “I’ll stop by some time.”

He sends him a glare as he pulls away. Fives pats his shoulder and turns around, jogging to catch up with the rest of his brothers.

You lead Echo back inside your apartment and shut the door behind. His hand leaves yours and he kneels next to his armour to take out the commlink from his pack. He pushes a button, switching it on.

A bit sheepish, he puts it back and stands up. “Sorry you had to meet my captain and brothers for the first time like this,” he looks down.

You reach out a hand to cup his cheek and lift up his head to make him look at you.

“It’s fine, I’m just glad you’re not in trouble,” you say softly and curl your free arm against his waist. His hands instinctively reach out to rest at your hips and bring you closer.

“I really wanted my comm to be off for the day, to spend the time with you. I’m sorry mesh’la.”

“Stop saying sorry for things out of your control. Your captain is sweet for wanting to check on you.”

He brings your foreheads together, something you have learnt is a kiss in his culture.

“Still, we could have gone through our day without this. I want to be here with you. For you. I don’t want you to feel like we are one message away from never seeing eachother again,” he murmurs.

You sigh with a sad look on your face.

“But we are, Echo. And that’s the reality. But that doesn’t mean you aren’t here for me,” you reply and pull away just enough so you can kiss his cheek and then bury your face in his neck.

His hands go from your hips to hugging you. It’s the kind of bear hug that makes it impossible to breathe deeply, but you’re okay with that.

“I’m here for you too,” you whisper into his skin and land a peck on the junction of his neck and shoulder.

His arms falter and he pulls away, only to kiss you like his life depends on it.

He has no qualms pushing his tongue past your lips, multitasking while gently walking the two of you over to your couch.

“Kriff!” you squeak out as you stumble a bit, unaware of your surroundings from the haze of kissing. You stabilise yourself against Echo’s muscular chest and plant your feet firmly, making your boyfriend almost lose balance in return.

As you both regain your footing, your eyes meet again and you both snicker at the clumsy attempt at romance.

You want to lead Echo towards your couch to continue the session, but the bell rings again.

“So help me force Fives, if it’s you, I am going to put sand in your bed!”

“I think that’s just the delivery droid. It’s been an hour.”

“Oh, cool. Can you show me the recipe?”

#echo x reader #501st x reader #star wars echo #clone wars echo #clone wars fic exchange #echo fluff

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callsigndragon · 1 year

Text

The Christmas Date | Chapter 13: Christmas will break your heart

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Fem!Kerner!Reader

(Ron Kerner is Slider, Iceman’s backseater)

Wordcount: 3.1k

Summary: Y/n “Athena” Kerner and Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw hate each other. Everybody knows. What happens when they have to fake date for a whole week to avoid Iceman and Slider’s matchmaking plans?

(there won’t be smut in this series)

Warnings: fluff, rooster feeling guilty, lots of fluff... before the crash and burn.

A/N: so am... i'm really sorry for making this to all of you dear readers. you're so gonna hate me after this.

Taglist: @ducks118 @milestellerwife @craftymoonchaos @littlebadariell @xoxabs88xox @alexxavicry @tayrae515 @shrimping-for-all @mak-32 @my-soulmate-is-mycroft @harper1666 @purplevortexx @abaker74 @ssprayberrythings @melllinaa @loveless-simp @k-k0129 @mygyn @castle-bookworms-world @chaoticversion @one-sweet-gubler @loveforaugust

@taytaylala12 @benhardysdrumstick @green-intervention @waatermelon-sugaar @smells-like-perfect-senses @interstellarloneliness @tay-bluey @diggorycullen @dhwanishah09 @inky-sun @luckyladycreator2 @nograce-nomercy @witchybabel @omfg-its-tay @macysorbit @little-wiseone @mxdi0

(TAG LIST CLOSED)

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You can't fall asleep again once Rooster leaves the house. There's just something preventing you from closing your eyes and resting. You slowly get up, knowing there's no reason to stay on the sofa. Jesse is stirring and turning around, but not waking up. You can see the little smile on his face. He seems to be having a good dream. You kiss his forehead before moving upstairs. You still need to wrap Bradley's gift.

On your way to your room, you see Nick pacing around Becca’s, the woman sitting on her bed, biting her nails. You approach him, curious about their behavior. "Guys, you seem nervous"

Nick almost yells when you talk, too immersed in his own thoughts to notice your presence. "Why are you up?"

"Cause I couldn't sleep anymore." You shrug, his comment making you believe that they want you to be awake. Not yet.

"Makes sense. We just hoped you wouldn't be awake when Rooster came back."

"Nick!"

He gasps. "Oh shit."

You look at them, not understanding a thing. "Am I not supposed to see what he's buying?"

"Did he tell you he went to buy something?"

"Nicholas!” Becca groans, covering her face in embarrassment.

"You know what, fuck it. He knows where Solo lives and he went there with you father"

"What?"

"You're so dead, Nick"

The thought of Rooster and Solo in the same room scares you. Not because Solo could hurt him, but because you know Rooster’s strength and how guilty he would feel afterwards if he inflicted pain on another person.

"Can any of you go buy something for me? I don't want to leave the house"

Becca points at Nick. "He'll go. Payment for spilling the beans"

Nick sighs, but accepts. "What do you need?"

"A Polaroid album"

“Cool. Speaking of Polaroids, there’s a box in the attic. Maybe you want to see it.” He says leaving the room.

Polaroids, huh? The only one around here that used them was Goose. It might be good to take a look.

Rooster comes back soon after Nick leaves. He's been crying, you can see it in his puffy, red eyes. Fear installs itself in your stomach, afraid that he has done something horrible to Solo and that he's now regretting it. He hugs your dad, whispering something to him and smiling a bit before walking towards you, who are now seated in the kitchen eating some Christmas cookies.

"You know where I was, right?" He asks, seeing the answer in your eyes. "Thena, I'm sorry I had to."

"Please, just tell me that he can still walk," you mumble.

"Yes, he can. He has a broken nose and was trapped in his closet for three minutes"

"You…treated him like he did with me?"

"An eye for an eye."

"...Good. He deserves it" You open your arms for him, seeing a new wave of sadness extinguish the light in his eyes. Not again, he was so happy lately. "Roos, what is it?"

"Everything is my fault"

"Nugget, you can't blame yourself for this. Not again."

"No, Thena, you don't understand. He was… obsessed with me, and therefore with you"

"What?"

He explains to you what he saw in his house, how your dad's comment unlocked a long-forgotten conversation. Oh no. You thought he would stop blaming himself for your scar at last, and now this.

Why can't you two have a normal relationship without trauma and drama?

"Bradley Bradshaw, look at me. You are not to blame. It's not your fault if you're just really cool and people want to be like you. I mean, Jesse wants to be like you and he doesn't go around traumatizing me"

"I know, but…"

"You're not taking the blame for this one, you hear me?"

"Would you ever be able to look at me and not remember what Solo did?"

The mention of his name makes your whole body shiver, an instant reaction that you’re sure will fade away with time.

You circle the kitchen table, grabbing his face between your hands. He tilts his head to one side, kissing the palm of your hand. “The only thing I see when I look at you, Bradley Bradshaw, is a lot of lost time that I hope we can make up for.”

A side-smile adorns his face when he looks at you. “It’s snowing”

“Really?” You look out the window and see white snowflakes falling. The snow from when you arrived here had completely melted with the warm temperatures of the last couple days. “Woah, look at that.”

“It’s been snowing all morning. Wanna go out and play?” Rooster says while running his fingers through your hair.

You nod quickly, running upstairs to put on warmer clothes.

“What are we gonna do when we come back?” you ask, resting in the snow after covering the backyard in snow angels with Rooster’s help.

“Gotta be a bit more specific, love.”

“Work, relationship, friends... I sent a message to Nat this morning, but I think she’s deployed or something. She didn't respond."

Rooster groans, rolling in the snow until he’s laying on top of you, his head pressing against your belly. You can still feel the warmth of his body through all the layers of clothing. “Too many things.”

“I know, pretty nugget, but tomorrow is Christmas eve, we’re getting on a flight back home on Christmas day... In three days, we’re gonna be working again.”

That only makes Rooster groan louder. You chuckle, patting his back.

“I’m not worried about work. Remember when Phoenix was dating a member of the squad?” he says, bringing memories back.

“Gotta be a bit more specific, love” you mock him, making him put a cold hand in your face. “Rooster is fucking cold!”

“Serves you right. Anyway, I was referring to White Queen," he clarifies.

“Oh, she was the sweetest girl. It was a pity that she was transferred to another station a few months into the relationship. I loved those two together.”

“Yeah, but long-distance relationships were hard for her… Can’t blame her.” He mumbles the final words, tightening his embrace to emphasize the significance of his words.

“I don’t think I could, either. I mean, I can't imagine a day without you in it. We’ve been together since we got out of Top Gun. Every. Single. Day. It’s hard to imagine the base without you.”

“Oh, so you liked me before all this?”

You grab a handful of snow, slowly moving it towards his face. “Yeah, but I don’t think I’ll like you after this.”

You let the snow fall in his face, moving from below Rooster’s body to run away from him. He’s up on his feet in no time, making a big ball of snow with his bare hands. “Oh, you little-”

“No, no, no. Don’t throw that at me.”

“And why should I stop?” he asks, a smirk appearing on his face as he moves dangerously close, the snow crunching beneath his feet.

“‘Cause you love me?”

“True, but not enough.” He throws the ball straight to your face, almost throwing you to the floor.

“Rooster,” you pout, getting the snow out of your face and clothes.

He closes the distance and helps you, using his scarf to clean your face. “Grouchy, this is as simple as you want it to be. You want to tell our friends?”

“Yes. I want them to know how much I love my nugget.”

He lets out a giggle. “Stop, I feel like a teenager.”

“We kinda are, Roos. We’ve been pushing back our feelings since we were teenagers.”

He looks at the floor, thinking about your words for a second, slowly nodding while coming out of his thoughts. “Well, yes. You’re right. Does that mean that we can do crazy things?”

“We said we loved each other already, and we’ve been dating for less than 72 hours.”

“But we’ve known each other since you were born. It’s not as if I met you three days ago. I’ve been growing up with you by my side, loving you a bit more each day, even though I've been an asshole sometimes with you.”

You grab his hands, ignoring the cold. “Okay, lover boy. What are you trying to say with this rant?”

“Maybe we can move in together?”

That wasn’t what you were expecting. “Roos, don’t you think it’s too soon to be sharing a house? I know we're doing the same thing here, but... we’re surrounded by family, and it's a little different."

“Hey, you got me all wrong. I’m not asking you to buy a house, share one bedroom, and all that. I’m talking about sharing an apartment but each one has their own room”

“Please, elaborate.”

“So, we move to an apartment with two bedrooms. We spend a lot of time together whenever we’re not deployed, and, you know, we do things together: watch TV, cuddle on the sofa, eat takeout for dinner, play video games, you name it.”

"I like that," you say, your mind racing with images of all the things you could do together if you shared an apartment.

“I know. But the best thing is that, whenever one of us wants some time alone, we have separate rooms. If one day everything is too overwhelming for you, you can go to your own bed, or kick me out of yours, and enjoy some precious alone time.”

“I can do that in my own apartment.”

“But you won’t be able to have cuddles whenever you want,” he counters.

“Yes, I can. It’s called a cuddle call.” You explain, seeing that there’s something else he’s not saying. The real reason why he doesn’t want you to have your own apartment. “Roos, just say it.”

He inhales deeply. “What are you gonna do when someone knocks at your door?”

You surely haven’t thought about that yet. Just the idea makes you breathe quickly. It wouldn't be the first time a neighbor came knocking in the middle of the night. What will you do? Pain and fear will become bearable in the future. You’ll be able to live a normal life without having to feel the claws of fear closing tightly around your throat, cutting off your breathing. Someday you’ll look back and think of this as a memory.

It would take time, though.

For now, you’re accepting Rooster’s offer. You know he’s not implying that you need him. He’s just offering to be there in case you want someone to help you in a bad moment.

Building a relationship based on need is the biggest mistake you can make. And he knows, too.

“Okay, let’s move in together,” you whisper, having so many feelings at the moment that you’re not sure you can identify them.

Maybe this is a complete mistake. Maybe it’s too soon to even think about living in the same place. Maybe it’s just the right thing to do.

But the smile on his face and how he tackles you to the ground in the biggest hug ever known in history makes you believe that maybe it’s not a bad idea after all.

Christmas Eve goes by with you almost being kicked out of the kitchen. You didn't realize what day it was until Sarah and Becca began to cook all types of Christmassy meals, including some of your favorites.

This week has been an absolute mess. It started with you and Rooster being forced to share a bed. Now he's asking you to share a house with him. A home. A simple yet effective way of beginning a life together. Even though this life began years ago, after the car accident. You're just been too blind to realize that the love you were looking for was not in front of you, but at your side, at the F-18 that always flies with you. He's always been there.

Rooster's playing with Jesse next to the fireplace, holding a tiny figurine of Chase, the police pup, in his big hands. You take a picture with your phone, looking at his fond smile and loving eyes. He's going to be an amazing dad, like Goose was. He might not have been there long enough for Rooster to remember him or for you to meet him, but you two know him.

Iceman, Slider, and Maverick had made sure to tell you the type of man he was. He was loving, not only with his wife and his son but also with his friends. He loved them as a family. Maverick was a brother to him. That's why he’s Rooster's godfather. Goose was also attentive, caring, funny, and brave.

He was the type of person you don't meet often. The type that goes too early, leaving an empty space too big to fill, even harder to ignore.

You've never met him, but you know him.

And you know that he's looking at his son right now, knowing that he would be a better father than he was.

You set the picture as your lock screen, admiring the pure love embodied in one single picture.

Then the phone rings. A video call from Phoenix.

"Love of my life, there you are!" You smile when you see her tired face. Tired means the mission was a success, and she's safe.

"Look at that face. You're literally glowing. Have you fu-"

"There's a kid here, Nat!" You whine, Rooster whispering something in Jesse's ear, the kid is leaving the room in a second.

"The kid has been secured," Rooster says, sitting next to you on the sofa, his arm resting on your shoulders while he waves at your friend. "Hey, Nat"

"Goodness gracious, great balls of fire, you two are in love. With capital letters."

You look at each other, his shy smile making you giggle. "Well… maybe a bit"

"I talked to you a few days ago, how can this be real?"

"Well… A lot of shit happened with Solo," you mutter, shivering when his name slips from your lips. Rooster hugs you closer, kissing your temple.

"Does he know?" Phoenix inquires, her eyes wide as she realizes you're referring to the monster in front of Bradley.

You nod, looking at Bradley's hand. His fingertips are drawing small circles in your arm, a comforting, grounding touch you are grateful for. "A lot has happened. I'll tell you someday"

She looks worried. "Is she okay?" She's asking that question directly to Bradley, not you.

"She'll be okay. Just needs a bit of time." Rooster reassures you both.

"Is this why you're asking to change stations, Bradshaw?"

Rooster freezes when Phoenix’s words register in his brain. The fingers that are caressing your arm stop moving. A change of station?

"You're doing what?" You don't look at him. It's almost unbearable.

"Let me explain, Thena," he says, kneeling on the floor in front of you, his eyes searching for yours, even though they're lost.

"So it's true," you whisper, the phone falling from your hands into your lap. Nat silently hangs up, a guilty expression on her face. "You want to change stations. You asked me to live together this morning, and now you're probably moving across the country."

There are tears in your eyes, so many of them that Rooster is just a blur. You blink, teardrops on your cheeks, as his hand approaches your face. You flinch away.

"Don't touch me."

He has been giving you reasons to believe that he is going to be with you… forever, if he can.

You're the only person I want to fly with.

The only way you're getting rid of me is when you say you don't love me anymore.

Was that real? Was any of it real?

"No, no, no, love, look at me. Please, look at me, it's not what you think." He begs, tears of his own falling silently.

His hands cup your face. His touch, a warmth so welcome a few seconds ago, now burns; it suffocates you. Have you become Icarus in this timeline? Have you tried to be so close to your personal sun that now it ignites your skin? Melting it. Hurting in the most painful yet delicious way. His calloused hands, the physical depiction of his so-called love and respect for you, now leave aching goosebumps in your skin. It brings comfort and grief at the same time. These are the hands you want to be held in—the same hands that have betrayed you.

It's too much.

"I said don't touch me!"

Rooster backs away from you, his hands open and held in the air as if he were surrendering to the enemy. The rational part of your brain wants you to stop and listen to whatever he has to say. He had never given you a reason not to trust him, right?

Well, he tried to pull your papers.

He knew that you loved him. He heard your confession.

He didn't say anything about it; he made you believe that he didn't hear you, that he didn't love you.

He had been acting like a dick ever since.

He came up with the fake dating idea knowing that you loved him.

He asked you to share a home with him.

And now, as if nothing that has happened between the two of you matters, he's asking to leave.

Asking to leave you.

Who's the enemy here? You, for running upstairs and locking yourself in the bedroom? Or him, for lying and betraying the little trust you had left in him?

He's at the other side of the door, your name falling from his lips as a litany. You know he’s trying his best not to knock on the door. You thank him for that, but it only makes you pack your things faster.

"Thena, please. Talk to me."

You tune him out. If you don't hear him, he's not there. He can't hurt you. Not anymore.

You've been broken too many times this week. But this? This is the final blow. You are packing your things, as if every cloth were a piece of your broken heart, collecting them in hopes that, with patience and lots of work, every single piece will fall into place.

The Uber should be here at any time. You take a few breaths before opening the door. You look at the floor, however. You can't look at his face.

"You're gonna move and let me go. You're not gonna look for me or ask about me. And if someone asks where I am or why I am gone," you raise your eyes, making eye contact in an ephemeral moment of bravery, "Tell them how you've been lying to them for a whole week and how you ended up lying to me, too."

You leave him standing in that hallway before running downstairs, leaving the house with tears in your eyes and a little boy crying out for you to come back home.

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trulybetty · 5 months

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Sunday Week In Review XIV

How's everyone doing? I skipped out on last week's update since it was a really slow week on all fronts for all the things for me last week. Things picked up a bit this week - but I'll be honest, I'm having a hard time finding my feet around here at the moment and finding a groove to get into.

Not sure if it's that time of year, a bit of a writing lull or what - but I've been a little meh, not in the sad sense - more like I'm a petulant child offered six different things and I turn my nose up at all of them because I don't know what I want lol.

Also trying to figure out a system for getting through my TBR list, right now it feels like it's out of control and there are only so many I can read in a week. Especially since I want to get through some of my physical TBR pile and dedicate a couple nights a week to offline reading.

Anyway, enough about me seemingly channelling Baby Truly™️ - on with the recap of the last two weeks!

T R U L Y U P D A T E S . . .

I did a second round of the 'First Sentence' ask game, which I absolutely adore! If you haven't done it before, I very much recommend it! If you do this, tag me so I can come throw a sentence at you!

Round 2

tim x cagney (f!reader)

jack x reader (f!reader)

joel x Charlotte (OFC)

dieter x bryony (OFC)

jack x reader (f!reader)

frankie x clementine (OFC)

W H A T I R E A D . . .

Delta Landscaping (Triple Frontier) by @rhoorl Jess' series has me on tenterhooks for every update and then on the edge of my seat waiting for more! This last update we entered the start of Frankie's arch and while it pulls at the heartstrings, I'm so here for it and what's to come next! Also, Benny entering his Rocky era (Jess didn't write this, I've decided it) is something I'm also very much ready for!

Paranoid Hearts (Javi P.) by @goodwithcheese This series. This series is just something else and I finally got my ass into gear to get caught up, and while on the one hand, I'm sorry I started so late on the other hand I enjoyed this smorgasbord of Javi and Tabitha.

he makes life better (Joel) by @wildemaven This is such a warm comforting hug of a fic that just seeps into your bones, that makes your toes curl in softness and you re-read more than once. This is everything fluff should make you feel and I adore each and every last part of this and will be re-reading this.

Headshots (Marcus P.) by @secretelephanttattoo I was not ready for this to end, but El gave our boy Marcus the ending he and his Ella deserved and it was both spicy and sweet. If you've not read this yet, I suggest you do. Also, peep her forthcoming wip... 🔎

Thrash Metal (Dieter) by @morallyinept Jett is back with another delectably mouthwatering smutty one-shot with our favourite deviant Dieter Bravo. This is sinfully indulgent and a must-read and one that lends itself to definitely more than one read.

Six and a half minutes - Frankie's version by @avastrasposts This one calls for a breakout of the Hot Ones gif for sure, because this was the mood the entire time I read this. If anything, Frankie is not one to back down from a challenge...

Medicine (Joel) by @goodwithcheese I was so excited to see Megan had written for Joel that I had to drop everything to read this over my coffee the other morning. I love everything about the dynamic between these two and how Megan illustrates the deep affection they have for one another through their actions as we all know our post-outbreak Miller is not one quick with his words. I hope this isn't the last we see of Joel here!

M E M O R A B L E P O S T S . . .

Heidi’s amazing mood board inspired by Sequins! �� I’m still in absolute awe of it and I love it so much! I think it's going to get a spot on my work desk this week! 💕

These thots had started off as Joel Thots, but have now morphed into Tim Thots and I'm not mad about it... might share a little snippet later 😏

@morallyinept's 'Ode to Writers' this week - I'm going to refrain from getting on my soapbox here (I'd be here all day) - but the table is not finite, it's infinite. If you're not inching your chair down to make room for another chair, or pulling the spare chairs in from the garage, then maybe you need to re-evaluate your relationship with this community.

E N J O Y E D T H I S W E E K . . .

Finally watching ‘Strange Way of Life’ and getting to live message my thots to @rhoorl as I watched - it was a cinematic dissection.

Date night with Mr. Truly - we spent the entire two hours wondering what people do on dates aside from watching their phones and waiting for a call to say your kids are out of control and have taken over Nakatomi Plaza. But needless to say, we had fun, I even ate a meal without someone else's hand in it.

Amazing moots being mooting awesome 🙌 - I'm thankful every day that I get to interact with some wonderful people and have found a lovely corner of this hell site to play in a sandbox with some amazing people 💕

S P E C I A L M E N T I O N . . .

Check out this writing challenge that myself and a group of people that I'm lucky to call moots created that we would love for you to join in on! Everything about it is random and everyone starts with the same parameters and everything else after that is up to you! So excited to see what everyone does with this!

Do I know anything about Javi Pēna? Nope. Am I going to join in? Yes I am! 🙌

See you January 1st to dive into all the fics this challenge I hope produces! 💛

T H I S W E E K ' S J A M . . .

Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for inspiring this week's selection after she pointed out the parallels to Chiffon that I haven't been able to get out of my head since.

Hope everyone has had a great week! Here's to a great week ahead and I hope its a good one full of obnoxious drinks of choice and soft places to land and enjoy.

#betty's sunday in review #sunday week in review #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #Spotify

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jungle-angel · 4 months

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The Critter King (Miles Miller x Reader)

Summary: Miles has always had a way with both people and animals and you're one of the few people who has seen it firsthand

Tagging: @floydsmuse

Warnings: Depictions of animal birth

The barn loft might have been chilly and the snow might have been falling hard outside, but the barn was the warmest place you and Miles could be on a day like this. All the preparations for Christmas had been made, the cattle auction had gone off without a hitch and now the two of you could enjoy the respite with your ever growing family.

You were both snug under a wool blanket, one that you often kept to keep the critters warm at night, as you rested in the hay. You blinked your eyes open from the morning nap, filled with a warmth when you saw the soft, sleepy look on your husband's face. You didn't dare lift your head from where it rested on his chest, your gentle fingers fiddling with the tough fabric of his heavy tan Carhartt jacket.

You felt Miles stirring as he woke up, his head heavy and groggy from sleep. His black cowboy hat was still resting on one of the hay bales behind you.

"Baby......gotta go get Benny and Jesse....." Miles mumbled.

"Miles, they're with your mom and dad," you chuckled.

Miles hadn't fully woke up but had quickly realized his mistake when he saw that it was still very early morning, only a little past eleven.

"Sorry sweetheart," Miles yawned. "Forgot what time it was."

"No worries," you said, kissing his cheek.

Miles pulled you on top of him, kissing you fervently and needily when you both suddenly heard something coming from the other end of the loft.

"You hear that, right?" he asked.

You nodded.

You and Miles quickly rose to your feet, following the noises until you found the two barn cats, Missy and her mate, Lucky, both nested amongst the hay. Lucky, the male, approached Miles and began pulling at the leg of Miles's jeans with his teeth.

"Alright, alright, Lucky I'm comin, hang on," Miles told him, shooing him out of the way a little.

Missy wouldn't stop meowing or sticking her legs in the air. For days now, she had been lurking around the loft, looking for a place for her and Lucky to nest and showing signs that she was ready to give. Miles scratched her large belly and felt the movement of her unborn kittens under his fingertips.

"She ok?" you asked him.

"She must've lost the plug already," Miles concluded. "She's definitely ready to give."

You excitedly ran to find some old, shitty towels that you and Miles always kept in the barn along with some warm water and other supplies you might need. Lucky paced anxiously as Missy's labor was drawn out for a good half hour, but you and Miles never once left her side.

"I know, I know sweetie," Miles cooed to the cat as he stroked her fur. "You're doing so good though."

He kept stroking her fur, her pained meows filling the barn loft as Missy spread her back legs. You and Miles weren't phased in the least when you saw the first of the kittens beginning to make its way into the world.

"You're almost there Momma," Miles said, gently scratching her fur. "Baby's almost out."

One more push from Missy and the wet little kitten fell into the hay. Miles scooped the little kitten right up into the raggy old towel and gently dried him off, taking extra care to make sure the nostrils and mouth were clean and free of anything left behind.

"Looks like a little girl," he chuckled proudly.

You gasped a little when he showed you the tiny little tabby kitten that mewed like crazy. She was so little and furry, almost like a tiny little tiger.

"I'm thinking, Tiger?" you asked.

Miles smiled and nodded as he placed the oldest kitten with Missy. She kept pushing until another came, this time a boy that you and Miles had decided to name Opie. Munchkin had come next followed by six more brothers and sisters, each with an odd name, but who had brought so much joy to you and Miles.

Miles laid his Carhartt jacket on the hay and moved the new momma and her kittens onto it so they could keep warm. Lucky nested in beside her licking Bagheera, the youngest and only black cat in the bunch, the little family warm and cozy in the loft.

"You sure you won't be cold?" you asked him.

"Not in the least sweetheart," he answered. "The woodstove is going downstairs and the heat'll get up here just as easily."

You both settled in for a little while to have your moment with the new family, feeling more content and happy than you had in a long time.

#miles miller #miles miller x reader #bad times at the el royale

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huntingteeth · 2 months

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ok @vamprlestat tagged me in a name six albums thing but i unfortunately don't really listen to full albums so i will name six songs i've been jamming to lately

salad by blondshell -- kind of a bummer song but it's still a bop. i especially like the part that goes "gonna get big / gonna get big / i'm so scary / i can't stop having visions of following him / gonna make it hurt / gonna make it hurt / but i don't know how to do that within the framework"

gans media retro games by hot mulligan -- especially the part that goes "a vinyl floored back room / begs the question / is this just how i live? / in fear of what i'll do / wake every day to say / i'm numb, worthless / vestigial and pointless / a sore to bite every time that i speak"

the water is fine by chloe ament -- this one is pretty and repetitive, which i always enjoy in a song lol. especially "blood runs thicker than water / but both feel the same when your eyes are closed" and "i am the river's daughter / and you'll be her son when we're both reposed"

sofia i'm sorry by jesse detor -- truly this sounds like a lesbian bop that should have come out during the 90s and been featured in a coming of age teen movie. this part: "you know what happened the night in the basement / when we watched a winona rider movie / you told me i was your everything / now you want nothing to do with me / i loved you more than your mother / to you, now i'm just anyone / throw my own past back in my face / i hate, hate to say you know you're no saint / you know what they say, it takes one to know one / and i know you're as fucked as me"

big god by florence + the machine -- you can't go wrong with florence tbh. my fave parts of the song are "sometimes i think it's getting better / and then it gets much worse / is it just part of the process? / jesus christ, it hurts" and "shower your affection / let it rain on me / and pull down the mountain / drag your cities to the sea / shower your affection / let it rain on me / don't leave me on this white cliff / let it slide down to the, slide down to the sea"

boys of faith by zach bryan feat. bon iver -- i have a special place for bon iver tbh and zach bryan does a good song that sounds like the summertime lol. i like this part: "high tide, it's been rising up / i've been getting up / with some boys i used to know / we're trying to get our pockets up / this year has just been moving fucking slow"

special mention to sleep token, which is actually the band with the albums i do play all the way through l m a o

tagging @branches-in-a-flood, @shatterthefragments, @dreams-in-phosphorescence, @unfoldingsky, and @creamwhxre but uhhh no pressure babes

#ask game #that i did not do correctly lmao

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floufli · 9 months

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Admit It

Chapter 3: Abduction (4.5k)

Summary:

Before the whole "multiverse collapsing" thing, everything was going pretty smoothly for you. As Spider-woman, you saved people, beat up villains and lived an calm and uneventful civilian life. But everything seemed to have changed the moment one boy was bitten by some radioactive spider. Now, the villains you faced have become more active, and always seemed to disappear before you could deliver them to the police. One day, you manage to finally catch the trail of the ones that kept stealing your catches, only to be left to discover another facet of your life waiting for you.

Will this end well for you? You could only hope so. But you are perfectly okay with risking it all, after all, that "Miguel" got one hell of an ass to make up for it.

Tags:

Miguel o'hara x fem!reader, violence, mature language and reference, Reader has the same arms thingies as Miguel, WILL BECOME MINOR NON FRIENDLY QUICK SO HOP HOP GET OUT OF HERE,trauma, rape mentioned, future tags,

MasterList

Chap: (1) (2)

Author notes:

Okay so first of all sorry for the loongggg ass pause, my brain just dropped the Miguel hyperfixation all of a sudden. And to add salt to the wound this has been ready for almost 2 weeks but the moment I said I was gonna post it my Internet said “haha no❤️”. So no Internet for me for at least a few months (;=;)👍.

Anyway hope you enjoy the chap if you’re still reading this, I was trying something but I cringed so hard I had to rewrite the chap a few times.

Don't copy to another site or I'm gonna be big mad >:C and don't feed to AI obviously

"Situation?" Miguel talked through his gobber, Jessica's hologram staring back at him. He didn't like the fact that he wasn't there when new recruits were brought in, but his duties as this dimension's Spider-Man had been left unattended for too long, and now it came back to bite him in his ass.

He was now heading to the HQ, swinging and climbing on the building while still remaining focused on the hologram of his subordinate.

"It went pretty well if you asked me." The woman said, her pose visibly relaxed." We did the usual explanation thingy just without you present but she assimilate everything pretty quickly I think. She didn't ask many questions either." She noted, at this point, she knew she was just telling him things without any real importance, as she knew he would verify himself everything that she said.

"Good." He responded coldly. that day of work had completely drained him, and he only wanted one thing: to take a shower and sleep until sunrise.

But he knew he couldn't, he just brought those fucking villains to the police and still had a lot of work left at the HQ, he didn't even know if he would be able to leave for the night.

"And you Miguel, everything's alright? You said you would be out for a few hours but half a day isn't typically your definition of 'a few hours'?" Her question was legitimate, he almost never left for this amount of time without saying explicitly for how many hours or days he would be gone. But this time he had gotten surprised by the amount of work he had to do in the city in order to keep everything going.

"Everything's okay Jessica, you can go back now, I'll handle the rest." He said looking away from her as he stepped inside the HQ's building. He stepped inside the main hall at ease, it was like his second home after all the time he had spent here. As he made his way toward the main elevator, he noticed the lack of the usual buzz signaling him the end of the discussion. He pulled his fist back up and unsurprisingly was met by Jessica’s silent stare, looking at him like a disappointed mother.

“Do you have something more to add Jess?” He asked unbothered by her attitude, she would sometimes act like this on purpose, keeping what she had in mind to herself and making him near beg to get some info about what was bugging her.

"Take a break, Miguel, you know you need to. You're gonna go far if you continue like that. We can't lose you."

And just like that, the call ended, with him still staring blankly at his wrist while he ascended to the higher floors. A frown slowly took over his features as his arms came back to his side. A break? It's not like he purposefully avoided any kind of breaks he just simply have the time to. Taking a break for him wasn't like any other Spider taking one, no, he had the responsibility of both his dimension and the multiverse along with the lives of thousands of Spiders.

He would take a break when his own responsibilities would allow him to.

Letting out yet another heavy breath, he quickly made his way out of the elevator as it finally reached its designed floor. Knowing the entire layout of the building like the back of his own hand, he made his way quickly across the Spiders still present, even considering the darkness started to grow outside. Multiple dimensions automatically meant various time-zone for each, given the exact same place it could be just the morning in one while late afternoon in the other. This caused the building to almost never be left empty, which helped any concern about the security of said building if he was absent.

He was now only a few minutes away from his 'office' if he could call it so since it didn't bear the traditional aspect of one. His mind was still full of today's work he would have to spend the night to finish due to his incapacity to catch some low-cost thugs quickly. He walked by Margo's desk, greeting her briefly as he could easily see she was already occupied doing multiple things at once in this dimension as well as her own, like always.

He ignored the nasty looks he got from the prisoners in their narrow cells, sigh remaining focused ahead as he walked. The image of his ‘work home’ grew larger in the distance and with it the until-then-postponed stress that always made its way to him, no matter how often he repeated the same things over and over.

Except this time was a bit different, as he walked into the comfortably lit place just enough for others to see easily but dark enough not to damage his retinas, soft led allowing a light glow into the space, he felt something odd. His eye focused on every item in sight, trying to find something to explain the weird feeling that came over him.

Even after letting his gaze wander around for a few seconds, he hadn’t spotted anything out of the ordinary. Deciding to brush off the feeling, thinking it was once again caused by his lack of recent sleep, he took a deep breath and tried to compose himself before going to work.

Except this seemed to have the completely opposite effect on him. Instead of cooling himself down in the familiar scent of his place, he was met by an even if weak, sweet scent that short-circuited his line of thought. His breath hitched at the fragrance, unused to such a scent entering his system by now. He couldn’t put a finger on a word to define it, it wasn’t like anything he had ever encountered before. No, this seemed sweetly addictive, just powerful enough despite its obvious fading.Leaving him craving for more.

Too caught up in the sudden smell, trying to process it while discovering its source, he missed the way his own breathing slowly became heavy, panting being the now proper term to describe his current self. If he could see himself in a mirror he would probably be embarrassed by the state he was in, mouth slightly open as if to actually taste the air he was surrounded by, pupils dilated, totally engulfing the natural red tint of his irises. He could even feel his fangs starting to grow, their tips gently tickling his lips.

His back was tense, as the rest of his frozen body, seemingly lost deeply into the fragrance, enough that he simply stop walking and stop in the middle of his office, breathing deeply.

"MIGGY YOU'RE BACKKKKKKK~~~!!!" His AI assistant suddenly yelled into his face, merely inches away. He jumped at the way he was abruptly forced to come back to reality. Eyes quickly blinking at the bright face in front of his own, he tried to calm himself and remain composed. What had happened to him to have this kind of reaction? He didn't know but he was mostly sure it wasn't something a night of sleep couldn't cure. Too bad he would most likely not get any sleep today.

"Hi, Layla." He replied with a sharpness to his voice as he slid his hand over his face, to both wake himself up and try to get the scent off of him. It helped, at least for now, and he quickly focused his attention back on his assistant.

"So, how was today?" He asked with uninterested eyes, already used to the boring reports he was met with every day now.

"Oh, you know the usual, a few anomalies here and there, today has been quite a furnish day." He only groaned in acknowledgment while he made his way to his station, his eyes already searching through the holograms depicted to find any important information.

"And the new recruit, you know the one from that dimension? Yeah well, she came with Gwen and Jess like you said, and my my~~~" He brought his eyes back to her blinking form just to hear about that new member of their society, but almost regretted it immediately judging by the eyes she was giving him.

"What?" He said unamused, his body still facing the holograms whilst only his head faced her, eyebrows raised in confusion.His arms fell back onto his sides as he glared at her. He could feel the amusement practically oozing from her form.

"Well, you could have told me she was basically the opposed gender version of you Miggy~~" She teased, and his eyes almost rolled back into his head at her absurdness.

"She got the fangs and everything~" She flickered to his right. " A perfect carbon copy."

He almost wanted to rip that grin from her face, but he couldn't. He should've made her a solid form for this kind of occasion.

"Your point?" He said, gaze going back to the displays. it seemed this conversation was already doomed before it even started. She must have had a stupid idea and convinced her that teasing him about it for who knows how much longer would make her day. The headache that left him just moments prior seemed to come back full force at her nonsense.

"My point..." She waited for him to look at her once more, but when he simply ignored her, she chose to continue her plan.

" Is that she would be a perfect match.<3"

His entire frame looked rock solid from the moment the words escaped her, tension rising immediately around the two. She could see the way he tried to maintain his claw and fangs retracted while attempting to calm himself down. Just enough to shut her down she was sure.

Too soon it seems…

When their eyes met again, her brown eyes faced the dangerous tint of blood-red iris, if she could shudder she most likely would have. But since she couldn’t she just floated there, smiling kindly at her boss, as if she didn't just sign her death warrant. The only noise around was the snaping of the railing that bore the display's projectors, causing them to flicker for an instant. With a quick glance she saw her boss’s hand almost ripping the whole thing off while he tried to stay calm.

"You should get out before I lose my temper, Lyla." He warned, his fangs shining brightly into the dim lighting, furthering his intimidating tone.

But she knew he couldn't do anything to her, even in those kinds of moments when his DNA seemed to take over him.

So she held his glare for a few more seconds before backing down, as if nothing had happened. Closing her eyes, she flickered away to give him time to calm himself before coming back to the real subject of today.

"She seems strong enough to enter the rank if you asked me, as well as both Jess and Gwen, without her it would've been way messier to bring those anomalies back to where they belonged after all." The sound of slowly calming breathing was the only thing she was met by.

"Like you asked she got her Gizmo and went through 'the explaining thing'" She paused for a moment before murmuring to herself in a fond voice. " I almost thought she was going to bawl her eyes out in front of everybody when she learned what happened."

His back tensed again, okay maybe that wasn't the best thing to say.

"Anyhow, she took it all like a champ and went back to her dimension. We told her to keep the Gizmo on at all times and that we will contact her soon enough." She finished going back next to Miguel when she noticed his lack of agitation.

"But you must already know all that from Jess so I'm just repeating."

She acted like she was looking at her nails while she subtly eyed the screen he was facing, even if she already knew what he was gazing so fondly at. It was the only thing that seemed to effectively calm him down after all.

His lack of response was enough for her to know what to do next. She had tried her luck enough for the day, retreating now was the best decision to make for both their sake.

"I'm just gonna head out if you don't need me~~," She said as she quickly flickered off, leaving him with the all too well-known images of that young girl.

It was now well into the night, but that didn't prevent the IA assistant from suddenly appearing before the frame of her boss, deep into a soudless slumber. Her holograms hovered silently over the body of her creator, a neutral expression painted on her two-dimensional face, unlike her usual cheerful smile despite some serious situations.

Her eyes landed on the tired bags below his own, the traces of stress and worry still very much visible on his sleeping complexion. It was easy to spot the tension on his jaw as he clenched it tight, still unable to fully relax even in his sleep. His brows formed a small frow that she almost thought to be cute before remembering what the man was surely going through right now.

Bad dreams for him since that event had become normality, a simple fact that would happen no matter what he tried to get rid of them, and as his digital assistant, there wasn't so much she could do to help besides advising him. Which he most of the time chose to ignore, deciding to once again overload himself with work.

She closed all the tabs currently opened with a swing of her hand, after making sure that the work had been correctly saved. He would kill her if she mistakenly deleted his night's worth of work.

The place was now much darker, except for the background neon and its soft glow.

Looking back at him, she almost regretted not having a physical body, as she wasn't able to so much as put a blanket to keep him warm in this cold-ass room. Quickly dismissing the silly thought, she turned away from him to let him rest. He will definitely scold her after realizing she let him sleep through work but she knew he would nonetheless appreciate the sleep.

As she traveled into the building network to find tasks yet to be completed by other Spiders, she thought back to the woman they had just welcomed into their rank and her boss.

He can say everything he wants but from what I saw when they both entered this room they did seem ready to fuck each other on the spot if they could've. I wonder if it's because of both their modified genes, no other Spiders reacted this strongly to the scent of strangers... They usually do that with a partner...

How much effort would it take to make them fall for each other? I will talk to Jess and Peter when they come back. Hihi~~ They will be as exacted as me on this I'm sure~~

You tried to break free, you really did, but your strength seemed comparable to an ant fighting against a bear against the grip the tall man had on your forearm. Water quickly gathered in your eyes, stinging and making you go slowly blind as your whole body attempted to break free from the deadly hold.

"LET ME GO!!" You yelled from just above the ground, feet scrapping the floor in an attempt to slow your progress down. The sound of the heavy steps of the man, your first sobs, and your worn shoes dragging along the floor echoed dreadfully in your ears. You had tried to bite, scratch, punch your way out but nothing had worked. The arm that had you trapped was now bloody and bruised and despite that, the man didn't seem to mind in the slightest. Determined to bring you to wherever you were both indubitably heading, against your best efforts.

The world around you was small as you walked through seemingly never-ending corridors, only lit by blinking and old light every few meters. The humidity of the alley left no doubts in your mind that this place had been abandoned for years now and nobody would find you if something were to happen today.

"Just let me.." You struggled with all the strength you had left against his grip, making your entire frame shake for the desperate movements. "let ME GO- I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!DAMNIT!"

Your free hand desperately punched and tried to free your other from him, but to no avail, and you almost went completely numb as the situation finally downed onto you. You gasped as you tries to get free slowly came to a halt, your body stopping completely, as your eyes grew wide and you stumbled on your feet, still being carried away.

You had no way out, you could do anything to make as much as make him look your way went your tried to break free. You were like a child being forced to follow their parent along a predestined path, unable to break the hold despite your many tries. Only following blindly like a boneless doll.

A new emotion took over your mind immediately after the realization- numbness. Acceptation. You wouldn't get out of here, so why bother struggling anyway? Whatever you would try or not, you didn't compete with the pure mass of muscles the man holding you was…if you were lucky he was just going to kill you.

Your body fell down, unable to stand without the will on your part. If it wasn't for your arms still firmly held, you would have fallen face-first into the dirty concrete floor. Your knees hurt as you were dragged along the never-ending path by the man. You could hear the fabrics of your pant slowing giving away because of the never stopping scrapping. But you couldn't bring yourself to care enough. Why would you care about some pants? Knowing your luck they would most likely be torn off in no time the moment you would reach your destination.

Your other, free hand twitched as it was too dragged along the rhythmic steps of the man, but you could gather the strength to keep it off the floor. Even as you felt your irritated skin starting to break away because of the dragging, your mind didn't let you feel the sting of pain that should follow. Blocking every reason that would pull you out of your protective trance.

"Ahh finally~~ I thought you got lost in the tunnels~~ Did you bring the one I specifically asked for??" A feminine voice squealed as your body entered a brightly lit room. With eyes still looking blankly at the floor, your face didn't show the slightest discomfort at the sudden change of lightning, completely disconnected from you.

The man didn't respond to what should certainly be a woman, and for a fraction of a second, you were grateful, at least that reduced the chance of being raped.

Keyword: reduced.

Your body was suddenly lifted up, dangling lifelessly a few centimeters from the ground thanks to the stature of the man. Your mouth only let out a small whine at the harshness of the movement, leaving a distant burn engraved into your wrist.

Your head was low, facing away from each individual, trying desperately to escape the situation, and if not physically at least psychologically.

But your 'peace' was quickly interrupted as you felt the disgustingly dry pulp of fingers gripping firmly your chin, forcing a wave of repulsion to go across your entire body. Making you shiver in the slightest.

Your head was yanked up without as difficulty as you thought there would be, for you thought you had put quite a resistance. But once more your strength seemed like one of a mere infant compared to those two. Unable to do much more than cry for mercy or put up the most inefficient of fights.

You hated the feeling of those fingers squishing so hard on your cheeks, along with the constant, now more persistent burn in your hand, reminding you of your current posture.

"Look at this Beauty~~~," The woman said in pure delight, and despite your instincts screaming you not to, you could stop your heavy-lidded eyes as they slowly rose up to meet the ones of that woman.

A sensation of dread fill you near the spot as your eyes met those wicked ones. Even in your state, your mind could still recognize danger when it saw it, and the mere eye contact between the two of you was enough for your brain to function, even if for just a moment.

Full of adrenaline, you tried once more to free yourself. But this time not from the man, no, he was a mere threat in comparison to what that woman was. He only seemed to obey her orders, didn't look like he was doing that for his own wicked nature but for some other surely more important reason.

But that woman, from the simple look you got of that slight glint in her eyes, the most unperceivable grin upward as she finally got to land her eyes on her next captives... Who were you fooling? Captive? No, against this woman you bore no such title, it would imply that you were captured and had some chance to actually escape your current situation, alive or not.

But in those eyes, you saw exactly what you were considered to be for her- a mere object here to satisfy her curiosity, her appetite for whatever sickened things and experiences she had planned to make you go through.

You were not even human to her, not a person, not a being. You were nothing more than a clump of cells that happened to be sentient and from her own specie that she would gladly take pride in exploring each and every facet.

You were just like a fly already caught in the spider webs, slowly being enveloped in silk before being put away to be eaten later on. You were nothing more than a prey she would relish in devouring.

And your struggle against her grip, even with just one arm intensified, along with your uneven cries and whines for help, while you could see her pleased composure growing more savage and wicked with each one of your calls.

"She will be perfect! Perfect as one could ever be!" The woman almost spits in your face in a newfound excitement, pushing your face away and instead turning back to something you didn't try to see previously.

In front of you were spread hundred of laboratory materials, enough to humble any common laboratory you could think of, the shining glassware and technology contrasting heavily with their decrepit surroundings. And only now did you take in the way the woman dressed, all in white, a lab blouse, protective glasses, gloves everything a real scientist would need.

But you didn't need to be a genius to know that whatever that woman was, a scientist would never be the proper term to define it.

"Now can you bring her to the table? Strap her really tight unlike the last one." She said as she walked a few meters away to grab you know what from a pile undisguisable from any other, all the while you were dragged once more and roughly locked into some kind of retraining table.

"Do you know how much products I spent on that last girl only for her restraints to go loose at the most crucial point??? That solution took me months to make, and she pushed it off the table as she ran away! Completely ruined!"

"Not like she went very far.." You could hear the man mumble as he fastened the last of your restraints before putting some space between you and him.

"Any way you can go now, your payment is in the wallet next to the backdoor, with a little present from my part for all your hard work~~" She pressed him out, that grin never leaving her lips, widening as the sound of steps fading always let you know you were now both alone.

"Now dear, I'm sorry but we'll have to skip the presentation and head straight for the funny part! I know it's not your fault that you don't want to be here and all the usual bullshit but I got things to do right? And you wouldn't mind helping me out a bit wouldn't you?"

She slowly approached your table, and only the vague sound of metal echoing through your ears let you know you were actually trying to get away from her.

"Now, that isn't very polite of you. But don't worry, you'll get used to everything after a few months or so."

"But firstly got a tiny little question to ask you. Be happy, you'll get to know a little more about why you're here! Isn't it exciting?"

She paused, her back facing you as she grabbed something from behind a row of beaker and other utensils. Before her wicked eyes turned slowly back to you.

"You like spiders, don't you?"

.. What?

A pause. That's it, by now you were sure this woman had definitely lost it long ago.But the revelation didn't bring any peace to your mind, still very much in distress form her very presence.

"If you don't, worry not . I'm sure you'll like them as much as I do by the time I'm finished with you." She was now stepping away towards yet another door leading to who-knows where, a few metallic noises echoing through the silence before she reappeared, now armed with a slim but sturdy want that she quickly put on a trail not to far from where you laid.

"But first I'll need to get you all prepped up for the big deal."

Your eyes grew wide once more, your entire body jerking against the restrains. The dryness of your throat now preventing you from begging for mercy.

Her eyes, those wicked orbs that had left you free from their grip were now back on you. But now filled with a madness you only hoped to be your imagination.

In her hand was a small filled with a transparent liquid serynge, wich dripped a few drops as she made sure all the airways out.

Gulping hard, you could only stare,silent despite your screaming mind , as the first of many syringes pierced through your skin and allowed an unknown liquid to course throw your veins. Paralyzed, the only sign of your tourment was the tears that's pearled down your cheeks.

From then on, all you could remember was pain.

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