#making small talk to get me relaxed before going in

[mariasont]

hey girlie, first of all absolutely adore all of your hotchie fics no one writes him as well as you do!! second of all i am dying to read bimbo!assistant! x hotch smuuuutt (only if ur comfortable, pls ignore if not!!) i feel like that would be the only time hotch would have her completely and utterly speechless (idk why but i literally cannot get hotch w a breeding kink out of my goddamn mind!!!!!!) anyways hope ur having a fab day, and thank u for feeding us over the last few days 😘

Space Between Distraction & Indulgence - A.H

summary: bimbo!assistant!reader want’s aaron’s attention. aaron wants to finish his case notes. too bad for him, you always get what you want

masterlist

pairings: aaron hotchner x bimbo!assistant!reader

warnings: 18+ MDNI, explicit stuff going on here, fingering, p in v, no condom (bc we trust hotch is responsible but you shouldn’t be), dirty talk, hotch is a boob man sorry not sorry, after care with a side of psychoanalysis bc he can’t help himself

wc: 6k (got a little carried away my b)

a/n: thank u sm for requesting ugh!!!! u all r going to give me a god complex if you keep talking about how i write hotch LOLOL i love u sm hope u like the fic!!

Saturdays with Aaron had a way of making time feel like something slippery and golden, something you could almost touch before it vanished between your fingers. The mornings stretched long and languid, a lazy kind of indulgence that should have felt endless, but somehow, with him, it never was.

You woke up late. Very late. The kind of late that made you blink at the clock in mild disbelief before flopping back against the pillows. And then there was the warmth. Not just the heat of the blankets, but something deeper, something winding low in your belly.

Oh. Right. The dream. You swallowed, biting your lip as if that might make the memory dissipate. It wasn't outright filthy, but it had been suggestive enough. Annoying. Frustrating. Embarrassing. It was the kind of thing that made you wish Aaron was still in bed.

He wasn't, of course. That would require Aaron Hotchner to do something reckless and irresponsible, like relax. If he wasn't keeping the country from total collapse, he was finding something equally as urgent to fix, probably buried in reports right now, coffee in hand, eyes scanning the page like national security depended on it. And maybe it did. You didn't know.

What you did know was that you'd been circling him all afternoon, orbiting like some needy little planet trapped in his gravitational pull, and he still hadn't acknowledged you. A small part of you—one you didn't want to name—had hoped he'd notice you by now. That he'd glance up, see you, reach for you. But he hadn't. And that was okay. Really. You weren't needy. You weren't desperate.

But you noticed him. You always noticed him. And this version of him, the weekend version, was particularly hard to ignore. The casual clothes, casual for him, anyway, stomped all over your ability to think straight (not that you had much to concentrate on in the first place).

The grey crewneck he had on stretched across his shoulders, molding to the shape of him like it had been made for him. His jeans, worn in all the right places, settled on his hips in a way that made you feel like a pervert just by looking.

Even his hair had you practically drooling. Not messy, of course—Aaron Hotchner didn't do messy—but it was softer than usual, a little mussed, like he'd dragged his fingers through it one too many times without bothering to fix it.

It made him look almost touchable, like someone who should have been stretched out next to you on the couch, letting you mess it up even more, not hunched over a pile of paperwork like the case files were going to disappear if he blinked.

His forearms flexed every time he turned a page, his muscles shifting subtly every time he moved. You didn't even realize how blatantly you were staring until his fingers skimmed up to his jaw, scratching absently at the stubble there. Because now all you could think about was how it would feel under your fingertips, under your lips, under—okay. Enough.

The magazine in your lap was technically open, fingers flipping through glossy pages filled with designer gowns and scandalous headlines. Normally, you'd be all over it, sipping coffee as you devoured the who wore what and who was caught with who. But today, you weren't really reading, you were just holding it, turning pages for the sake of it. Something to occupy your hands while you definitely didn't stare at Aaron.

He had started keeping these around after you mentioned, offhandedly, how much you loved them. You hadn't even meant it as a suggestion, but the next time you visited, there it was—sitting on the coffee table like it had always been there.

He hadn't spared you so much as a glance since you walked in—not even when you'd practically drifted past his desk, close enough that he should've felt you there. He had mumbled a good morning, sure, but his eyes never left the page, his attention locked onto whatever was in that file.

You sigh—loudly. Pointedly. The kind of exaggerated little huff that normally earns you at least a glance, maybe even a what's the matter, sweetheart?  There was no reaction today. He just flipped another page, one hand smoothing over the text, the other tapping against the desk like you were completely invisible.

You toss the magazine onto the table—just a little too hard. Then you stretch out on the couch, shifting just enough that his button-down rides up, baring more of your thighs than should be considered decent. The air against your skin makes you hyperaware of what isn't there—only your favorite panties. The tiniest scrap of fabric between you and absolute obscenity. If he so much as glanced in your direction, he'd have the perfect view. But he doesn't.

You sigh again, softer this time, just enough to sound absentminded, like you're not trying to get his attention (even though you absolutely are). As you push yourself off the couch, you stretch a little, giving yourself an extra moment to watch him. You make your way toward him, steps slow, letting the hem of his shirt brush against the tops of your thighs as you move. His fingers flex against the page.

You settle against the edge of his desk, bracing yourself on your elbows, making a very intentional point of pressing your tits together. It's the kind of thing that should be subtle—just a natural consequence of your posture.

Months of Aaron have taught you more than just the way he takes his coffee or how he organizes his files. You've studied him—memorized him even. And one thing has become crystal clear:

He's absolutely a boob man.

You realized it gradually—the subtle stiffening of his posture whenever you leaned a little too close in the office, the way his fingers flexed when your blouse had just a bit too much give.

Then, when you started dating, it became even clearer. His hands never just grabbed—they claimed, like he was making up for all the times he couldn't touch.

His voice would go low, reverent, when he murmured, so pretty, sweetheart, his thumb brushing over your skin like he needed to feel it. And your bras—he had thoughts about those, much to your surprise. Which ones were his favorite. Which ones he hated because they got in the way.

But it wasn't until months later—when he had you spread out beneath him, his mouth hot and urgent against your skin—that he admitted it. His voice was rough, breathless, his grip tightening as he groaned, been trying so fucking hard not to look at these for years. And then, just to prove it, his mouth sealed over you like he had years to make up for.

"Do you need anything? Water? Coffee? Maybe lunch?"

His eyes lift—quick, practiced, almost indifferent.

Almost.

Because before they settle back down, they pause, just for a fraction of a second, right there. Right at the collar of his button-down, where the top buttons are hanging loose, where your skin is warm and soft and practically begging for attention.

But then, before you can revel in it, he's already looking back down. "No, I'm fine, sweetheart."

You bite your lip, actually contemplating throwing his stupid case file out the window. He's either knows what you're trying to accomplish and ignoring you on purpose or he's just that focused. You weren't sure which was worse.

You shove off the desk, but you don't step away. Instead, you step closer. Your hands find his shoulders first, sliding down to his chest as you lean into him, pressing against his back. The shift is immediate. He goes still, his spine going ramrod straight, like his brain has just caught up to what's happening.

Your shirt is paper-thin, your nipples are pressed right against him, and unless he's suddenly gone completely numb, he feels it.

You sink against him, letting your chin rest on his shoulder, breathing him in. Gods, he smells good. Clean, sharp, like something expensive.

You recognized it as the cologne you bought him. The one you picked, the one you dabbed on his wrist in the middle of a department store and grinned, telling him, This. This smells like you. This is the one.

Your fingers skim over his collar, your nails just barely catching against the heat of his skin.

"What are you working on?" You let the question drip from your lips, your voice all honey, sweet, but not innocent.

Aaron hums low in his throat. "Case notes."

"That's boring. Is there anything I can do to help? Your assistant is very willing to be of service."

His fingers pause and your stomach flips. But then, before you can savor it, he moves. His hand finds yours, slow, gentle, lifting it with patience. He presses a kiss to your knuckles, featherlight, frustratingly chaste, before setting your hand back down like you're some good little thing that's been successfully pacified. And then you catch it, the tiniest twitch of his lips.

"Thank you, honey, but I've got it under control."

You make a noise, half scoff, half petulant whine, and shift your chin against his shoulder, angling yourself just enough to shoot him a pointed glare. "You always say that. What's the point of having such a capable assistant if you're not going to use her?"

"Hmm. So that's what you want? For me to use you?"

"I don't know. Is that an option?"

Aaron's laugh is low, the kind that rumbles through his chest without much warning. It's never loud—it doesn't have to be—but it still manages to send your stomach into a ridiculous free-fall.

"There's just some stuff I need to finish up."

You groan, letting your forehead drop to his shoulder, arms squeezing around him like you can physically hold his attention. Like you can will it away from the pages in front of him and back to you where it belongs.

"Is that your way of telling me I just have to sit here and be patient?"

Aaron's pen doesn't pause. "Mhm."

You huff. "And you think I'll be able to do that?"

His answer is immediate. Too immediate.

"You've survived this long," he says, and you swear you can hear the smirk in his voice. "I think you'll manage."

"Fine," you say after a moment, stepping around the chair before sinking into his lap, giving him plenty of time to stop you, but he doesn't. He never does.

You shift until you're settled, one leg draped over his, chest brushing his. His breath stutters—just a little, just enough to tell you that he feels you. His fingers flex against the desk, pressing harder into the wood, tension rolling through his back as he goes perfectly still beneath you, like he's waiting to see what you'll do next.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you hum, arms draping easily over his shoulders as you sink against him. Your cheek brushes his, lips just close enough that if he turned his head, just a little, you'd be right there. "You said you had to finish working. Don't let me stop you."

A slow inhale, a slight tilt of his head, then—his pen moves again, like nothing's changed. Like you haven't changed anything. You exhale against his skin, hiding your smirk in the crook of his neck, fingers idly tracing slow, featherlight circles along the nape of it. He's humoring you, and that's fine.

You let him pretend for a while, content to exist in the space between distraction and indulgence. You shift in his lap, weight pressing into his just enough.

His body reacts before he does, muscles tightening, his breath slowing like he's thinking too hard about not reacting.

"Sit still."

"I am still," you reply, the words light on your tongue, but the slow curve of your hips tells another story.

"Sweetheart."

You lean in, close enough that your noses brush, your forehead pressing to his as your lips part ever so slightly. "What? I'm not doing anything."

Aaron's breath comes out sharp, ragged, the sound scraping its way from his throat like he's been holding onto it for too long. His chest pushes against yours, every inhale pressing you closer, every exhale heating the space between you. He leans back, just enough to create the smallest sliver of distance.

You roll your hips again, slower this time, savoring the friction that sends a shudder through you, tightening every muscle in your body with anticipation. The feeling sparks through you, sharp and intoxicating, sending heat pooling in your stomach. His reaction was subtle, the shift of his jaw, his hand brushing against the desk, like he doesn't trust himself to touch you yet.

His gaze drops, heavy-lidded, to where your bodies fit together, the rise and fall of your breath syncing with his.

His hands land on your hips, thumbs pressing in, not enough to stop you, just enough to remind you he could if he wanted to. When his eyes meet yours again, there's no rush, no immediate reaction. You knew exactly what it meant and what usually followed, he was just waiting for the moment you tip the scales too far.

"Do you want to tell me what exactly it is you're trying to do?" he asks, his voice low, the kind of tone that makes you forget your own name for a second.

You push against him again, grinding just enough to feel the press of him, the heat of him, and god. His fingers dig in—tight—like he's trying to stop you, but you don't miss the way his breath catches, the way his grip falters for half a second. Your fingers curl into his shirt, and suddenly, you can't remember what your original plan was.

You shift forward, your body molding to his, your breath fanning against his skin as your lips brush his ear. Your teeth scrape, light, but not accidental.

"I'm just feel a little... overlooked." Your fingers tighten where they rest, nails digging in just enough to make sure he feels it. "Is it so bad that I want your attention?"

His grip tightens, harder this time, his fingers digging into your hips with a kind of warning you'd be stupid to ignore. The heat of his palms seeps through the thin fabric of his shirt, scorching into your skin like a brand.

"You have my attention." You don't believe him. Not really. You press your lips into a pout, brow furrowing just slightly. "But if you keep moving like that, I might now be so nice about it."

Your hips shift, an instinctive little squirm, testing to see if you can push past his hold. You can't. "I can't help it."

"You can't help it?" he repeats, almost thoughtful, like he's turning the idea over in his mind. "I think you can. You just don't want to."

You want to argue, you really do, but nothing comes out, only a sharp inhale that never quite makes it into words. Because he's right. He knows he's right.

The little noise that escapes your throat is purely instinctual, frustrated but breathy, like your body is already conceding before your mind catches up.

"I told you to stop," he murmurs, but the way it sinks into you, the way it wraps around your ribs like something stretched too tight, tells you exactly what kind of trouble you're in.

He mirrors you, crowding in, his breath skimming your ear. His palm presses into the small of your back, slotting you back into place. "But you don't listen, do you?"

You shake your head without even meaning to, the deafening roar of your pulse making it impossible to think clearly.

"No, you don't," he murmurs, his tone dipping lower, turning darker, more intimate. His hands flex as if to remind you of the control he holds. Then his lips graze your jaw, his breath fanning over your skin. "You push. You test the boundaries. And then you pretend to be shocked when I hold you to them."

His fingers slide down, dragging over your thigh with an almost excruciating slowness. He pauses to squeeze there.

"First, you sprawled out on the couch—" his thumb sweeps over your skin, "like you didn't know exactly how that would look."

Your breath stutters, catches, knots itself into something tangled and messy as his hand moves, sliding higher, pressing firmer, stopping just shy of where the ache blooms.

His eyes darken, the heat behind them smoldering with something deep, something that settles like fire in the pit of your stomach.

"Then you leaned over my desk, practically shoving these—" His hand moves before the words fully land, cupping the curve of your breast. His thumb rolls over your nipple. "—right in my face."

Your breath catches, your hips lifting, your thighs parting like you're meant to be touched. Like you need him there. But he doesn't give in. He just moves lower, slow and taunting, until his palm covers the heat between your legs, pressing lightly over the thin fabric of your panties.

His fingers flex, testing. Feeling.

"And now this," he murmurs, and gods, his voice, his voice, is like a razor wrapped in velvet, smooth and cutting all at once. "You squirm and pout like you don't know exactly what you're doing. But I know better, don't I?"

The words settle in your spine, and suddenly, you don't feel like you know what you're doing. Like you're the one pulling at a thread you don't quite understand, but it's already too late to stop. A shiver rolls through you, bone-deep, leaving your muscles lax, your body melting into his like you were always meant to be here.

"I'm sorry," you murmur so quietly, you're not even sure if he hears it. "I just... I wanted you to notice me."

Aaron's hum is low, deep, almost amused. His thumb finds your jaw, sweeping along the curve of it as he tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his eyes.

"Oh, I noticed you. I always notice you. In fact, you're all I ever notice." His hand slips away from where you want it most. "But if this is the only way you know how to ask for my attention, sweetheart, then I think we have a problem."

Your grip on his shirt is useless, you're clinging to him, to anything, but he's the one in control. His hands settle on your hips, demanding, guiding you over the hard line of his cock, forcing you to take the friction, to feel every inch of him through the layers still between you.

The friction is blinding, sending heat licking up your spine, setting every nerve in your body on fire. Your legs tremble, a sharp, choked sound escaping before you can stop it, and you clutch at his shoulders, nails sinking deep into muscle as pleasure coils tight and insistent in your belly.

"Aaron," his name slips from your lips, high and uneven, like it costs something to say it. Your head bows, forehead pressing into his shoulder, hands trembling against his chest. "I wasn't trying to be bad. I just... I didn't know what else to do."

"No, sweetheart," he murmurs. "You didn't think, did you? And now look where that's gotten you."

His words should sting, but they don't, not when his hands are so gentle, smoothing down your spine like he's soothing something raw inside you. And then his voice, warm and promising, settles over you, "But I'll take care of you now."

And gods, you need him to. He's so hard, the thick length of him pressing against you through denim and cotton, teasing, tormenting. Everything burns—your skin, your stomach, that deep, pulsing ache between your thighs. Your head swims, feverish, your mind caught between more and please and I can't take this. But he knows. Of course, he knows.

"Do you feel that?"

"Yes."

"Good. If you want to keep going, you'll take care of it. Go ahead."

Your hands move with the kind of urgency that betrays just how badly you need this, need him. Your fingers trail down, brushing over the tight muscles of his stomach, and it's almost enough to make you dizzy, just touching him, just knowing what's waiting for you beneath layers of fabric.

The button of his jeans fumbles beneath your fingers before finally popping open. And then you're pulling him free. He's thick in your hand, burning hot against your palm, and something about that, about feeling him like this, for you, makes something feral sink its teeth into you.

And then he finds you.

His fingers slip under your panties, gliding through the obscene slickness there, and you don't mean to react so violently, don't mean to moan so loud, but it rips out of you before you can stop it.

"Oh, honey," Aaron murmurs, almost thoughtful, like he's just now realizing the full extent of your undoing. "I didn't realize you'd gotten this worked up."

Like it's an observation. Like it's fascinating.

His fingers push, stretching you open, teasing just the right spot, and you jerk against him with a sharp, strangled moan. Your grip around him tightens, your strokes turning sloppy, uneven, desperate.

"Aaron—" His name tumbles out high and needy, your head tipping back, eyes fluttering shut.

"I didn't mean to—" Your voice shakes, a hitched little gasp tangled between syllables. "I just—" Your breath stutters, heat climbing, overwhelming. "I didn't know what to do."

"You don't have to know what to do." His fingers slow just enough to let you catch his breath as he murmurs. "You just have to let me take over. That's what you wanted, wasn't it?"

Your nod is frantic, almost mindless, as his words echo in your ears.

"Please." It falls from your lips like a confession, like you'd say anything if it means he'll give you what you want.

His fingers thrust deeper, and the shock of it rips a gasp from your lips, straight into his kiss. It's messy, frantic, all clashing mouths and stolen air, your breaths coming too fast to match his, like you're afraid if you let him go for even a second, he'll pull away.

Your grip on him tightens without thinking, your fingers flexing around his cock, but the sensation barely registers now, drowned out by the wetness pooling between your thighs, the slick drag of his fingers against your walls.

You can't keep up. You're chasing something that feels just out of reach, your hands leaving his cock, fumbling for something solid, something real. They find his face, fingertips brushing over the rough stubble of his jaw, trying to find yourself in him, in the way he's ruining you.

You kiss him like you can tell him everything that way, like he might understand the ache better through lips and tongues and the way your body trembles under his hands.

And then—he stops. His fingers slip free, and the sound you make is a whine, a protest, your hips tilting, seeking, trying to drag him back in. But he doesn't move, doesn't give you what you need, just smirks against your lips like he enjoys watching you squirm.

"You're so impatient," he murmurs against your lips.

But before you can protest, before you can tell him that yes, yes, you am impatient, please just give it to me, his hands tighten on your hips. And then—oh.

He lifts you, positioning you just right, and then, lowers you down.

The head of his cock pushes inside, and your breath catches, lips parting in a broken gasp. The stretch is devastating, inch by inch forcing your body to open, to yield to him. He's so deep, impossibly deep, and for a second, you forget how to breathe, how to think, your only thought being how does he even fit?

It feels endless, your thighs shaking against his as he takes his time, forcing you to feel every slow, torturous inch. Your body clenches around him, your nails dragging over his scalp as you bury your face against his neck.

"Breathe," he murmurs, voice thick, lips grazing your temple. "That's it. Let me take care of you. You just have to let me in, sweetheart."

"Okay, okay," you whisper, voice shaky as you bury your face against his neck, arms wrapping tighter around him.

His other hand moves, dragging up your spine before wrapping around your waist. And then—he presses deeper.

The air leaves your lungs in a sharp, punched-out gasp. He doesn't stop, doesn't let you breathe, just sinks in, stretching you open until he's fully seated inside you. Until there's nowhere left to go.

"That's it," he groans, voice tight, his mouth ghosting along your jaw. "So tight. So warm. Fuck, sweetheart, you know this is what you were made for, don't you?"

You try to think of something, something teasing, something bratty, something that might tip him over the edge, but your body betrays you, trembling around him, squeezing down so tight you feel him shudder.

"God, you're tight," he mutters, his fingers pressing into your hips, hard enough to leave bruises. "I can feel every little tremble, every squeeze. You feel that, sweetheart? How perfectly you fit around me?"

"It's like you don't want to let me go. Is that what you want, honey? To keep me right here?"

Your body clenches down instinctively, like you're answering him without meaning to, and his breath catches for just a second before his lips curve against your skin. You nod, frantic, a little dazed, a little wrecked, and his chuckle is pure sin.

"Good. Because I'm not going anywhere."

He pulls back just enough to create the kind of unbearable friction that makes your breath catch, your body tightening like a bowstring.

"Every little sound you make drives me insane." His breath drags over your cheek, his lips just shy of touching, like he's teasing himself as much as he is you. "Do you even realize what you do to me?"

You try to answer, you really do, but your lungs don't work properly anymore, your body focused on the pleasure threatening to snap at any second. Your fingertips tremble against his shoulders, your thighs quiver, and Aaron knows exactly what that means.

"That's it. I can feel you trembling, sweetheart. You're so close, aren't you?"

His words strike something deep, something primal, and the fire curling between your thighs roars in response. Your head tips back, your breath breaking apart as your hands scramble for purchase, fingers sliding to his face, thumbs brushing over the roughness of his jaw. You pull him into a kiss that's all hunger, all desperation, your lips parting to let him devour you.

He groans into your mouth, a sound that vibrates through your chest, and then his hips snap up into you. The stretch is suffocating, the sheer fullness of him sending sharp pulses of pleasure up your body with every deep thrust.

"I've got you," he murmurs against your lips. "You don't have to hold back. Just let go for me, sweetheart."

It crashes into you harder than you expected, knocking the breath straight from your lungs. Your moan catches halfway, tumbling out in pieces as your body convulses, clenches tight, gripping him in a way that makes him hiss through his teeth.

He thrusts deep, brutal, final, and then he's gone, his head dropping back as a groan tears from his chest.

He fills you in thick, pulsing waves, each pulse making your thighs tighten around him, making you gasp at how deep it settles. The feeling is overwhelming—the heat of him, the weight, the way his cock still twitches inside you, like he’s unwilling to let a single drop go to waste.

You're not sure where your body ends and his begins, your limbs heavy, useless, boneless as you slump against him. Your breath stutters, still uneven, every exhale pushing against his chest as the last waves of pleasure roll through you.

"You take every drop so fucking well," he murmurs. "Meant to keep you full."

His fingers press into your hips, just a little tighter, just enough to make you feel how deep he still is.

"Don’t move yet."

Your breath stutters, the words landing deep, something fluttering tight in your stomach.

"Just a little longer," he murmurs, his hands absently smoothing up and down your spine. His voice drops, lower, rougher—

"I want to make sure it sticks."

You shudder, pressing closer, your face tucking against his neck as everything—the fullness, every drop of his cum—settles in.

Aaron exhales, his chest rising beneath you, and suddenly, he shifts. His grip on your hips soften and slide up, like he can feel the way you're trembling against him. 

"Breathe, sweetheart," he murmurs. "You can do that for me, can't you?"

You try, you really do, but when you inhale, it's a stuttering, gasping thing, barely controlled. Your thighs still shake, your body still throbs around him, and you can feel the way he exhales, like he enjoys this—enjoys feeling you like this, soft and trembling in his arms.

"Easy," he murmurs. One hand slides up your spine, cupping the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair. "That was a lot."

You nod—or, at least, you think you do. Everything feels floaty, light, warm. Your head feels like it's filled with pink clouds. Your limbs feel soft, useless, like you're some well-loved doll that's been played with for hours.

He tilts your chin up, catching your gaze.

"You okay?" His brow furrows slightly, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone.

You blink slowly at him, lips parting, trying to focus.

"Mhm," you hum, then pause, frowning just slightly. "Wait, no—hold on."

His jaw tenses immediately, but you reach up, poking his cheek with a weak, clumsy finger.

"You didn't kiss me," you mumble, like it's the most important fact in the universe. "You're supposed to kiss me after, 'cause, like, you love me and all that."

Hotch lets out a slow breath, like he's holding something back. His head tilts, just barely shaking, like he's in mild disbelief of you. And okay, fine, maybe you do say a lot of dumb things. But this wasn't dumb. It was valid. It was scientifically proven that post-sex cuddles should include at least one (1) I love you and one (1) kiss, and you were simply holding him accountable.

"Of course I love you," he murmurs, like the answer is so obvious, so unquestionable, that it almost makes you feel silly for asking. And then he kisses you.

It's deep, drawn-out, the kind of kiss that makes you forget where you are. 

You're still in his lap, still tangled in the ridiculous, oversized leather chair, but you don't feel like you're anywhere. Not in his apartment, not even in your own body. Just floating, existing in between his lips and yours.

When you finally pull back, it's not even voluntary—just the sad, unfortunate reality of needing air.

"Wow," you murmur, your fingers lazily brushing over his jaw.

"Wow?"

"Mhm." Your tongue darts out, sweeping over the kiss-swollen curve of your bottom lip, like you're trying to catch what's left of him there, trying to savor it. "Like... I feel very wow."

A smirk tugs at his lips, but his hands don't stop moving, don't stop tracing, don't stop feeling. His fingers smoothed absently over your hips, up your spine, his palms blending into your skin. Like he's checking for something. Like he's making sure you're here with him.

And for a second, you think he's about to kiss you again. He looks like he wants to, his gaze flickers to your lips, his hands flex just slightly, his body leans in just a hair. But then his gaze flickers, his lips part slightly as if he'd just remembered something.

"You said something earlier."

You blink again, brain lagging behind slightly as reality creeps back in, still floating somewhere in bliss. Which you felt was a more pressing topic than whatever he's about to say.

Your face scrunches up immediately, like maybe if you look cute enough, he'd drop it. 

"I said a lot of things earlier," you rush out, voice a little too high, a little too hasty, your hand flapping vaguely in the air. "So many things. A real stream of nonsense, actually. I was just saying words, you know, as one does—"

You shift slightly, suddenly painfully aware of the position you're in, and he doesn't even blink.

"Aaron," you say, narrowing your eyes. "You're literally still inside me and you want to have a conversation right now?"

"Yes," he says simply, like of course he does, like this is completely reasonable, like you aren't still wrapped around him, skin warm and sticky from what you just did.

His brows furrow slightly, and his head tilts in that very specific way that means he's already pulling apart the words, unraveling them like a thread, and working through them with that brain of his before you can even begin to take it back. 

"You said you felt overlooked," he states plainly, like a fact, which you guessed it was. "If that was something you just said in the moment, we can drop it."

His eyes narrow, studying you like he already knows the answer. "But if you meant it, then I want to understand why."

Your mouth parts, ready to push out something easy, something light, something that won't lead to the very real, very terrifying act of actually admitting things.

He was serious. Not angry or annoyed. Just serious. And concerned.

You exhale, suddenly very invested in dragging your nails lightly over his chest, watching the way they disappear into the fabric of his shirt, how his muscles shift slightly beneath your touch.

"I mean... it's not a thing," you mumble, barely glancing up. "More like a thing-adjacent."

"Sweetheart." The firmness in his voice made your stomach flip. It's not a scolding or a warning, just his way of making you hear him. "I'm not interested in whether you think it's a thing or not. I'm interested in whether it's true."

"I mean, I guess... maybe a little."

His fingers flex, like he's taking that in. He nods once, slowly. "That makes sense."

Your brows furrow. "It does?"

"Yes," he states plainly, like it's obvious. "You pick up on subtle changes—even the ones I don't intend to project. And when I get hyper focused on something, I shut everything else out. Not just you. Everyone."

"It's a defense mechanism. A way to compartmentalize. It doesn't mean I don't notice you. It means my brain assigns the highest level of urgency to the task at hand, and everything else—everything outside of that—is temporarily shut out."

"When I do that, it makes sense that you would feel like I'm not paying attention to you," he continues. "Because in those moments I'm not."

Your breath catches. He says it so matter-of-factly, so plainly, that it almost doesn't sting at first, it just lands.

His grip tightens ever so slightly where his hands rest on your like he already knows how you're taking it.

"But that doesn't mean I don't want to be paying attention," he murmurs, fingers brushing slow, absentminded circles against your skin. "It doesn't mean you don't exist in the back of my mind, even when I'm caught up in something else."

Aaron leans in a fraction, his eyes holding yours.

"Do you know what I did last night after you fell asleep?" he asks.

You blink. "Uh... sleep?"

He smirks. "Eventually. But first, I checked the thermostat. You always get cold at night, even when you say you won't."

Your face warms. "That's just—,"

"And before I left for work last week, I moved your car closer to the building because I saw you left your umbrella at my place."

"I—,"

"And when I'm out of town, do you know what I do every morning?"

You swallow.

"No."

"I think about what you're having for breakfast," he murmurs. "Not consciously. It's not something I try to do. It just... happens."

"You always eat something sweet," he continues, his thumb brushing over your jaw. "It's usually a pastry or something covered in chocolate. Sometimes cake, if we're being honest."

Your scrunch your nose again and he smiles.

"So, tell me," he murmurs, tilting your chin up. "Does that sound like someone who overlooks you?"

Your lips part but nothing comes out. Your heart aches—not the bad kind, but the kind that makes your chest feel too small for everything inside it. Because he's right. He notices everything. Not in the big, showy romance-movie ways but in the little things. In ways that matter.

You inhale a little too hard, blinking quickly, but the stinging in your eyes isn't going anywhere.

Aaron sees it immediately. "Sweetheart."

You shake your head quickly, sniffling.

"I'm not crying," you announce, even though your voice cracks on the last word, which kind of ruins the effect.

He smirks. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," you say firmly, poking his chest. "I just—I feel very loved and now I have to process that."

"Okay," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Do you need time to process, or should I just assume you're going to be attached to me for the foreseeable future?"

Your smile is instant, automatic, the kind that takes over your whole face before you can even think about stopping it. Your arms tighten around his neck, fingers curling into his shirt like you have any intention of letting go.

"Oh no, you're definitely stuck with me," you declare. "Like, you might need to call someone if you ever actually want me to let go."

His smirk is instant. "You're saying I should alert the authorities?"

You nod sagely. "I mean, that would be the responsible thing to do. But by the time they arrive, I'll have already made a compelling argument about how you should just let it happen."

Aaron huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "I'm sure you would."

taglist: @readergf @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath @broadwaytraaaaash @sunfyyre @sleepysongbirdsings @trulycayla @crouchingapple @navia3000 @aaronlovesava @bakugocanstompme @pansexualhailstorm @averyhotchner @looking1016 @everythinglizzy @sky2nd @alexxavicry @spencerssatchel @candyd1es @storiesofsvu @pleasantgardenwitch @kodzukenmaa @hiireadstuff @dilflover-3 @spennciesslut @phoenix-le-danseur-de-pole @jstcln @just-here-to-read13 @c-losur3 @wondergal2001 @oliver-1270 @ssahotchbabe @savagemickey03 @justanotherbimboslxt @imoonkiss @estragos @khxna @de-duchess @raysmayhem-72 @piinksdoll @justyourusualash @whimsicalpolitical @kcch-ns @cool-light32 @reidfile @sugarbutterbailey @ssamorganhotchner @persephonestears @moonyxstars @spookyysinsanity @proxxyshouse @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @imsonotweird @jungchloe @she-wont-miss @duchesz @may-machin99 @historicallyweirdandqueer @in-the-kosmos @lcvealwayss @p13rc3-th3-m4tt13 @babyhoneybyhs @reire11

taglist is closed for now until i can figure out the best way to include more than 50 mentions :(

[lostintransist]

Broken Beyond Bearing | Part 3

-.-. …. .. .-.. -.. .-. . -. / -.— —- ..- -. —. / .- … / - . -.

Part 1 found here.

CW: A/B/O sexism I guess is what we should call this? Trauma reactions to doctors, awful in world politics.

Keeping his eyes on you Kyle’s concern rises with each shallow breath you suck between your teeth.

The nurse had been watching and held the door open as he directed Kyle to the first room on the right. Settling your body flat on the table he steps back, trying to give the nurse room to move. With two chairs, a small counter and a sink, and a ‘calming’ green on the walls the room looks exactly like he expects it to.

“How long ago was the exposure?” The nurse is taking your vitals and you stiffen as if your body hit rigor. “Ma’am if you don’t relax this is going to take longer.”

“Less than thirty minutes,” Kyle answers coolly.

The whine, primal and terrified, that comes from your throat as the blood pressure cuff is tightening has Kyle moving to where your head lays. Running the back of his knuckles down your cheeks he whispers to you. The scent of your fear, clear and uncontaminated with whatever afflicted you normally, flooded the room.

“Hey, hey. I’m here. You’re not alone. Everything will be okay.”

The nurse, an alpha by scent, makes a noise that pulls Kyle to look at him. The nurse, Johnson by the glance to his name tag, keeps his eyes on the monitor taking your blood pressure and pulse. Kyle focuses back on you. Your body regains mobility as the cuff is removed, eyes rolling like a horse looking for a place to run.

“Her vitals are all looking normal, the doctor will be in shortly,” Johnson shuts the door behind him. He must not be far enough away from the door when he starts talking to someone else. “Beta bitch in room one has track marks up both arms. I knew betas died from drugs more than any other gender but it’s wild to see that out here.”

Kyle would have stormed out the door to rip into the man if your hands hadn’t slapped into his, holding them tight. Pulling yourself upright from the reclined position you tuck your knees to your chest and rest your chin atop them. Letting go of his hands you curl them around your legs.

Sitting on a chair positioned next to the bed Kyle looks up at you, trying to catch your eyes.

“Even when he could see the streaks of color through your irises no recognition lit your features. Concerned, Kyle stays sitting on the bed with you watching each breath and twitch. Nothing changes until the door opens with a faint knock.

“My name is Doctor Chen. Can you tell me what happened today?”

Like an automaton, you uncurl from your crunched position. Legs folded you straighten your back and rest your forearms on your knees palms aimed at the ceiling. Kyle had seen poses similar in meditation videos he would watch sometimes to give his mind a moment to relax. There is no peace in your pose. The width of your open eyes and the shallowness of your breath all remind him of victims he has saved from torture.

Memories that left their marks on his bones should not be reflected in your posture, he faced evil abroad and in the mirror to keep people like you safe.

He glanced at the man, dark hair, light blue scrubs, thick-rimmed glasses, and a white overcoat Kyle mostly associated with lab work. A quick draw of breath and Kyle marked him as an alpha. Dr. Chen did not look at you once, eyes staying firmly on him.

“We had an exposure to an allergen.”

Dr. Chen nodded once and sat on the small, wheeled stool that Kyle only ever saw in doctor’s offices. He wondered if they had to special order them or if they appeared in the building like fairies to offers of milk and bread. The man logged into his computer with a swipe of his name tag to an RFID reader and tapped a few buttons before turning to look at Kyle again.

“Do you know what the allergy was in reaction to?” He adjusts his glasses further up his nose.

“We don’t and would like to get some testing. Does this clinic do testing?” Kyle asked; all of his medical care happened on base.

Dr. Chen’s eyes glanced at you for the first time with a flare of his nose as he took in the fear salting the room with your uniquely beta scent. Kyle knew deeper than his marrow that you could turn off his brain and any explosive rage that he dealt with being an alpha. You didn’t use that now, but by the gods, he wished you would. The flash of disgust that whipped across Dr. Chen’s face ignited the soul-deep rage that existed with being an alpha.

“Dr. Chen,” the darkness, power, in Kyle’s voice brought the doctor’s face to him. “You will treat my wife with respect or I will ensure you don’t live to regret it.”

The cloying, nose-coating scent of Dr. Chen’s alpha rising to meet the challenge filled Kyle’s nose. He let the monster rise in his eyes, keeping his scent muted. Military training had to be good for something beyond the battlefield.

Kyle stands, placing his body between the doctor and the bed where you sit. Arms crossed and shoulders spread wide he used the mass of his bulk to show the barrier he could be. He didn’t know you, but Kate had seen something that prompted her to give them the care over you. You would not feel any harm if he could prevent it. You started to rock softly, eyes still unseeing. Then you begin to hum Edelweiss, effectively breaking the tension. Chen lost the staring match when he glanced at you.

“Do your job doctor, so I don’t have to.”

“That is out of line Mr—”

“Sergeant, special forces.”

Dr. Chen’s eyes narrowed but accepted the correction.

“Sergeant, your wife is doing fine by her visual inspection and her vitals agree. This clinic does not offer allergy testing but there are a few private practices here that you can call.” He turned back to his computer, typing in what Kyle assumed to be a summary of the visit today. “Most of what we do here for allergies is to stop the reaction and watch for any adverse effects.”

“I will need a copy of that report for our records,” Kyle stated it like a command he would give a private or a trainee. A firm ‘this is the course of action you will be taking’ that did not leave any room for questions or disobedience.

If Dr. Chen thought of arguing with Kyle, he kept it to himself. He left shortly after with a comment that Johnson would be in soon with the paperwork he requested. That is how Johnny found them, Kyle’s arms crossed and holding back his rage and you the juxtaposition of a peaceful body and an absent mind.

“You are more than you appear, wife,” Johnny took your hand, curling fingers around palms.

They wait in the cadence of your voice for nearly five minutes before Johnson appears, papers in hand. Kyle snaps a vice grip around the man’s wrist, pulling him close.

“Johnson. If I hear you telling tales about betas, and more specifically about my wife I will paint the walls of your room with colors not even crime techs will unsee.”

The man under his eyes paled quite impressively. Plucking the papers from his hand Kyle dropped Johnson’s hand and turned to his pack mate and partner in crime. Johnny’s thumb traced a track along the back of your hand as he watched the interaction play out before him.

“Can you carry her to the truck?”

Johnny’s eyes flicked as he watched the nurse flee from the room.

“Yeah. Up you pop bonnie,” he settled one arm over his shoulder and then the other before lifting you under the thighs to settle around his waist.

Still, you hummed, no life in your form. Kyle had a glare and a harsh, nose-blistering scent of rage for anyone who looked too long. Johnny settled in the back seat with you, buckling you into the middle so he could keep a hand on you and Kyle could check on you in the review mirror.

The drive home is tense, filled only with Kyle’s quiet mutterings about inexperienced winter drivers. When he turns onto the path home Johnny asks a question.

“What the hell happened in the clinic when I was on the phone with John?”

The steering wheel creaks under the pressure of Kyle’s hands.

“Nurse and doctor had some awful things to say about our wife, called her a drug addict, and couldn’t keep professional.”

“The hell? Why did they do that?” Johnny’s face in the rearview is tight with angry concern.

“It’s due to the beta laws that went into place ten…eleven? Yeah maybe eleven years ago.” Your voice is an unexpected addition to the conversation.

Kyle slows to a stop in the snow, throwing the truck in park and turning to look at you.

“What beta laws?”

He knows his gaze is harsh when you flinch back. Johnny wraps an arm around you and you settle a bit.

“There were laws on the books for a long time that weren’t really enforced,” you swallow and look from man to man before staring at your knees and continuing. “About how betas weren’t allowed the same personhood rights as alphas and omegas due to the lack of either consistent rut or heat. Apparently, the ability to do both is scary to the government. Several years back a group successfully passed a new law that said basically that betas should be treated like children, unable to sign paperwork without an approving authority, have bank accounts alone, apply for a credit card, or passport, you name it without the approval of an alpha or omega. In some places it went beyond that, stripping beta’s of all rights.”

Johnny muttered under his breath something that sounded like ‘What the fuck’ but Kyle kept his eyes on you.

“What happened to you?” His whisper hardens on your skin like ice.

There is no weak, scared beta woman here, only a beast that would peel him apart if he pushed. He didn’t scare her, but doctors did.

“No.”

Nodding once and accepting the answer Kyle turned back to driving. He would discuss this all with the guys after they had settled into bed. The interactions with the clinic staff were nothing like he had ever experienced before. Though as he thought of it he couldn’t remember the last time he had worked with a beta.

Simon and John step onto the porch as Kyle parks, as if they had been keeping watch for them.

The four men set about their tasks, hauling everything inside. You follow when Johnny reaches into the back seat and helps you out, hand tucked in his as he carries in a few bags. Simon sets about setting up the bed they picked for your room. Johnny settles you at the table, laughing and joking at you as he prepares a plate of food. Kyle and John set to work on creating the dresser. They don’t hear you laugh at any of Johnny’s stories but John points to you once and Kyle catches a glimpse of a smile. The sun slips away into the trees as each of the men finishes their task. Once the bed is made and the mattress settled on the frame John and Kyle lift the dresser into place.

The three men who had built things collapsed onto the couch facing the back wall of windows into the woods. Simon is settled between John and Kyle an arm dropped around each of them. You are standing on the back porch, head tilted back as you look at the ink-dark sky. The coat and boots you wear are those picked up today. Kyle didn’t think to wonder where Johnny had gone until he bounced down the steps with a bright bundle of fabric over one shoulder as he shoved a beanie on his head.

“Where ya going, Johnny?” Simon pitches his voice to carry but not to shout.

“Gonna give our wife a gift,” he winks at his lovers and pops out the back door.

Simon tightens the arm around Kyle.

“He loves you. That won’t change if he chooses to love someone new as well,” John murmured.

Kyle looked over at John who lay his head fully on Simon, nose buried in the scent gland at his neck. John licks the length of the gland causing Simon to let out a short whine.

Glancing back out to the back porch Kyle watches Johnny settle a shawl across your shoulders and sees in your profile confusion, hesitance. When you look down and clutch the shawl tight to your chest Kyle could only call the look on your face concerned acceptance. Johnny grinned at you like the sun had risen.

“To bed Simon, I can feel you grumble. Your rut starts soon. Let Johnny get our wife settled and let Kyle and I get you into bed.” John pushes up from the couch pulling Simon with him.

Kyle stands as well, eyes drifting to you and Johnny one last time. Standing side by side the two stare at the stars. John calls him from his observations and Kyle starts up the stairs after his lovers. His other lover will arrive with time.

Broken Masterlist | Masterlist

@lucienofthelakes @gg-trini @talia-the-gemini @thriving-n-jiving @z-wantstowrite @asialovesyou09 @literallegendicon @canthavetoomuchchaos @reinekoya @jsptmoche @demothers-empty-blog @hbaasaad

[esote-rika]

Could I request Spencer with a really socially awkward reader(gn) who has to meet the team for the first time and just sort ends up hiding behind Spencer?

Feel free to ignore this if you're not up for it :)

Anon, thank you so much for this! I’m sorry it took a little long, but I hope you still enjoy it <3 Cute little drabble of Spencer being the best bf ever.

Contents: Mentions of alcohol, but otherwise, it’s just fluff!!! gn!reader.

Your hands are clammy when he takes them, a clear sign of your discomfort. Immediately, Spencer’s face softens, his features dappled pink and blue from the colorful lights of the bar. Neither of you drink, but his team is celebrating a case they successfully closed, and he’d mentioned it would be a good time to introduce you. The atmosphere is relaxed, after all, inhibitions dulled by alcohol and the knowledge of a job well done. 

For them, at least. You are operating under something entirely different. Nerves. Lots of it.

“You made it.” Spencer says brightly, before he wraps an arm around you and ushers you to their table. His team is all bright, welcoming smiles, and teasing remarks when they see you. You recognize them from the pictures, this group of people he’s come to know as his family. The cheeriest woman, Penelope Garcia walks up and gives you a big hug. Not expecting it, you stand there awkwardly, too busy wondering if you should return the gesture, but by the time you make up your mind, she’s already pulling away. 

Oops. You bite back a wince at your social blunder and manage a smile. 

“Spencer has told me all about you.” You say over the loud, thumping music. 

A chorus of replies. He spends all his time talking about you too, and You two are so cute, and I can’t believe Spence didn’t introduce you to us sooner! Lovely platitudes that you nod at. What exactly do you say to them beyond a thank you? Desperately, you wrack your brain for responses. Be witty, you chide yourself, charming. Make them like you.

But your words fail you in this moment, as they so often do. Small talk seems hollow, perfunctory instead of sincere, so you smile and nod politely as the comments continue around you. The more they go on about how it is to meet you, the more you seem to shrink into Spencer, smiling politely in response. You hope, desperately, that it's enough.

Once the initial round of introductions dies down, Spencer pulls you to a quieter table. The back of your neck is warm from all the attention, and you're worried his team may think you're being too clingy or antisocial. Surprisingly, his team doesn’t comment on it, moving on to get drinks and join the dance floor. Other people may have found it rude to retreat like this, but truthfully, you’re glad for the reprieve. 

Spencer’s hand is warm and heavy on your hip, pulling you tightly to his side. “Are you okay?”

You hum, nodding against his shoulder. “Your team’s nice.” 

“They are,” you feel his lips on your forehead, “But they can be a lot.”

You peak over his shoulder to look at the dance floor. Derek is in the middle of it with a few ladies, while JJ, Emily, and Penelope have their own little dance cluster. “They’re nice.” you repeat, “They just seemed excited.”

He chuckles, “Mhm, that’s because they’ve been wanting to meet you for weeks now.” 

You feel him pull back, and you have to fight back the urge to cling to him. He meets your gaze, brown eyes warm and glittering in the dim light. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’re not too overwhelmed?”

“I’m fine. I’m glad to have met them.”

He smiles, pleased that his reminders for his team had worked. He’d told them of your tendency to be awkward around new people and had asked them to accommodate it when they meet you. He’s just as nervous and eager for your introduction to be nice, but your comfort is of utmost importance to him. 

For a brief moment, he worried it wouldn’t work, but his team is gracious enough (and so excited over the fact that he has a relationship) that they’ve put on their best behavior and backed off immediately once they caught signs of your discomfort. You’re easy enough to read, and they’re highly trained profilers. 

“They already adore you.” he says, nose buried in your hair. 

You laugh, “You sure? I don’t know if I’ve made the best impression.”

“I’m sure.” his lips ghost across your hairline, “You weren’t even that bad. They’re used to so much worse.”

“Is that so?”

He nods, ducking down to press his lips to yours. “Need I remind you that they have to deal with me?”

Even more laughter escapes you, and you’re immediately put at ease, even more so than before. How could you not, when your boyfriend knows exactly what to say? Perhaps not to other people, but he’s so attuned to you and your needs that you just kiss him back in thanks.

[mapis-putellas]

𝑩𝒖𝒕𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒋𝒐𝒌𝒆/𝑩.𝒎𝒆𝒂𝒅

Autistic!reader. I tried my best to make this as realistic as possible. Hopefully it came out okay.

It was supposed to be a good day. A nice, relaxed afternoon with Beth and her friends; Leah, Kyra, Alessia, and Katie. Beth had convinced you it would be fun, saying they all liked you and wanted to get to know you better. You had been hesitant at first, the idea of socializing with a group of people you weren’t entirely comfortable with making your stomach twist in unease. But Beth’s insistence, paired with her reassuring smile, had eventually won you over.

It had started off well enough. You had sat next to Beth on the couch, her hand resting lightly on your thigh as the others chatted animatedly around you. Occasionally, they’d turn their attention to you, asking questions about your interests. At first, you answered earnestly, your voice soft but steady. Alessia asked about your favorite book, and you’d immediately launched into an enthusiastic explanation about the most recent book you’d read that had become your favourite.

After that, the questions kept coming, and you kept answering. And it was okay, at first. Until you started noticing a pattern. A pattern that made your stomach twist further. Every time you finished talking, both Leah and Katie, laughed.

At first, you thought they were laughing because they found your answers amusing or endearing. Beth always said your enthusiasm was one of her favorite things about you. But as the conversation continued, the laughter didn’t feel warm anymore. It felt pointed. Katie and Leah especially seemed to find every answer you gave funny, even when you weren’t trying to be.

Your confusion began to morph into something heavier; something cold and sharp that settled in your chest. You were used to people misunderstanding you or finding your honesty a little jarring. It wasn’t new. But this felt different. You weren’t sure why at first, but then it hit you: they weren’t laughing with you. They were laughing at you.

You felt the humiliation rise in your throat like bile. You weren’t stupid. Naïve, maybe. Socially awkward, definitely. But you weren’t stupid. And yet, the way they looked at you, the way they giggled and shared glances after every response you gave, made you feel small.

Beth hadn’t noticed. She was too busy chatting with Kyra about something else. You glanced at her, silently willing her to look your way and see the discomfort etched across your face. But she didn’t.

“I’m just going to the bathroom,” you murmured, standing abruptly.

No one seemed to notice except Beth, who glanced at you with a small smile. “You okay, love?”

You nodded quickly, not trusting your voice, and hurried down the hallway. Once you reached the bathroom, you shut the door behind you and leaned heavily against it for a second before beginning to pace.

The humiliation was suffocating now, and you couldn’t stop the way your hands flapped slightly at your sides as you tried to calm the storm brewing inside you. Your chest ached with frustration and hurt, and you felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

Beth had said they liked you. She’d promised they liked you. But clearly, that wasn’t true.

There was a soft knock at the door a few minutes later, and you froze.

“Love? It’s me.” Beth’s voice was gentle, but you didn’t respond. You didn’t trust yourself to speak.

The door creaked open slowly, and Beth stepped inside, her eyes immediately landing on you. Her expression shifted to one of concern as she took you in.

“Oh, babe,” she said softly, stepping closer.

You wanted to push her away, to tell her to leave you alone. You were mad at her. She’d lied to you. But when she wrapped her arms around you, the familiar pressure was grounding, and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning into her.

Beth leaned back against the sink, letting your weight rest against her as she held you tightly. One of her hands stroked your back in slow, soothing circles, while the other rested on the back of your head, cradling you gently.

“What happened?” she asked after a while, her voice low and careful. “Talk to me.”

For a moment, you didn’t say anything, focusing instead on grazing your fingers over the soft skin of her back. The repetitive motion calmed you, anchoring you as you tried to sort through your thoughts.

“They laughed at me,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Beth’s hand stilled against your back. “What?”

“Your friends.” You pulled back just enough to look at her, though your gaze didn’t meet hers. It hovered somewhere over her shoulder instead. “They were laughing at me. They think I’m stupid.”

Beth frowned, her eyes searching your face. “Why would you think that?”

“Because it’s true,” you said bluntly. “They laughed after every answer I gave. Even when I wasn’t trying to be funny.”

Beth’s arms tightened around you, her expression shifting to one of anger; not at you, but at the situation. “They don’t think you’re stupid,” she said firmly. “I promise you that.”

You shook your head, your hands still grazing over her skin. “You lied to me. You said they liked me.”

“They do like you,” Beth insisted.

“They don’t,” you replied, your voice breaking slightly. “If they did, they wouldn’t have laughed at me.”

Beth sighed, her forehead resting against yours as she tried to figure out what to say. “They’re just…they don’t know you like I do,” she said after a moment. “Sometimes people laugh because they don’t know how else to react. It doesn’t mean they think you’re stupid.”

You didn’t respond, your fingers continuing their gentle exploration of her back.

“I’m so sorry, love,” Beth whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I should’ve noticed. I should’ve said something.”

You shrugged slightly, still not meeting her gaze. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” she said, her voice firm but still gentle. “You shouldn’t have to feel like that. Not ever.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, so you stayed quiet. Beth’s hand moved to cup your cheek, tilting your head up slightly so you had no choice but to look at her.

“I love you,” she said, her blue eyes earnest. “And I think you’re brilliant. If they can’t see that, that’s their problem, not yours.”

Her words made your chest ache in a different way, and you felt your lip wobble slightly as you fought back tears. “I’m mad at you,” you said, your voice small.

Beth nodded. “I know.

“You lied to me.”

“I know,” she repeated. “And I’m sorry.”

You studied her for a moment, searching her face for any sign of insincerity. But there was nothing there.

“I just…I wanted you to feel comfortable,” Beth continued. “I didn’t think…I didn’t think they’d act like that.”

You nodded slowly, your fingers trailing up to her shoulder. “It’s okay. But I don’t think I want to hang out with them again.”

“Okay,” Beth said without hesitation. “You don’t have to.”

The weight in your chest eased slightly at her words, and you let out a small sigh as your lips quirked up into a tentative smile. “Thank you.”

Beth smiled softly, her thumb brushing over your cheek. “Anything for you, love.” Even though you were still a little mad at her, you couldn’t help but lean in and brush your lips against her own. Beth’s smile widened just slightly as she cupped your jaw to lightly coax you forward into a proper kiss. Your eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, your fingers toying with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck.

After a few quiet moments, you leaned back into her embrace, letting her warmth and steady presence soothe the lingering hurt. You pressed a kiss to her neck, feeling the way she squeezed you tightly in response.

After a while, she pulled back, pressing a playful kiss to your nose. You couldn’t help but smile in response, and Beth retuned it as she lead you back through to the bedroom with the promise she’d be back in just a few minutes, and you nod, curling up on her side of the bed with your book, just as you always did.

You trusted Beth to handle it. If there was one thing you knew about her, it was that she never let anyone disrespect you. But even that thought wasn’t enough to soothe the turmoil in your mind completely. But I would ease. It always did.

In the living room, Beth stood in front of her friends, her arms crossed over her chest, her lips pressed into a tight line. Alessia and Kyra sat quietly on the couch, their expressions uneasy, while Katie and Leah leaned back in their seats, clearly not expecting what was coming.

“I hope you’re happy with yourselves,” Beth began, her accent more pronounced in her frustration. “Do you have any idea how upset you made her?”

Leah tilted her head, a half-smile playing on her lips. “Come on, Beth. We were just joking around. It’s not that deep.”

Beth’s eyes narrowed. “Not that deep? Leah, she left the room practically in tears because of the way you two were laughing at her. How is that not deep?”

Katie leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. “We weren’t being mean. She’s just-well, she’s a bit literal, isn’t she? It’s not like we said anythin’ bad.”

“That’s not the point!” Beth snapped, her voice rising. “She’s literal because she’s autistic. Did either of you even stop to think about that? Or did you just decide to laugh at her for being different?”

The room went silent. Leah blinked, the words hitting her like a sudden gust of wind. Katie opened her mouth to respond but closed it again, for once unsure of what to say.

Kyra shifted uncomfortably, her gaze flicking between Beth and the others. “Beth, we didn’t mean to upset her. Alessia and I didn’t even say anything…”

“But you didn’t stop them, did you?” Beth shot back, her glare moving to Kyra and Alessia. “You sat there and let it happen. You know what those two are like. You could have said something, but you didn’t.”

Alessia’s cheeks flushed with guilt, and Kyra nodded solemnly, their silence a quiet admission of responsibility.

Beth turned her focus back to Katie and Leah, her voice colder now. “Because of the two of you, she doesn’t want to see any of you again. Do you realize how much that hurts her? How much that hurts me?”

Katie frowned, her arms crossing defensively. “She’s being a bit dramatic, don’t you think? It was just banter, Beth. She’ll get over it.”

Beth’s hand slammed against the back of a chair, startling all of them. “Don’t you dare call her dramatic,” she seethed. “Do you even hear yourselves? She’s not dramatic. She processes things differently. She doesn’t understand your so-called banter the way you think she does. And instead of making her feel included, you made her feel like a joke.”

Leah leaned forward, her voice softer now. “We didn’t know…about her being autistic. You’ve never mentioned it before.”

“I shouldn’t have to mention it!” Beth exclaimed, her voice breaking slightly. “You should treat her with respect regardless. But now that you do know, you better think long and hard about how you’re going to make this right.”

The weight of Beth’s words settled heavily in the room. Leah ran a hand through her hair, looking genuinely remorseful, while Katie’s defensive posture began to soften.

Beth took a deep breath, her shoulders dropping slightly. “I love you guys, but I also love her,” she said quietly but firmly. “And I will not tolerate anyone making her feel less than. If you can’t understand that, then you’re not welcome in our lives.”

The room remained silent as Beth turned on her heel and left, not sparing them another glance.

*

Tags:

@ceesimz @marysfics @girlgenius1111 @codiemarin @simp4panos @silentwolfsstuff @goldenempyrean @xxnaiaxx @liloandstitchstan @ktgoodmorning @chelseacult

[gpcwsl]

Alessia Russo x Reader

- Next step -

MasterList

Warnings: very suggestive, kissing, making out, no smut though.

The night was alive with celebration. The Lionesses had just secured their Euros victory, and the team had taken over a cozy corner bar to revel in their hard-earned success. Bottles of champagne were passed around, laughter echoed throughout the room, and fans cheered in admiration. But amidst all the excitement, Ella Toone had a new mission: to get her best friend, Alessia Russo, to loosen up and have some fun.

“Alessia, you’re basically married to the game at this point,” Ella said, slinging an arm around her friend’s shoulders as they both sat in the booth. “Tonight’s the night. You need to let loose and—” She paused dramatically, scanning the bar. “Find someone to hook up with.”

Alessia, who had been sipping her drink quietly, rolled her eyes. “Ella, I’m not in the mood for a hook-up right now.” She glanced over at her best friend, amused by her insistence. “And I’m certain I don’t need your help with that.”

“Oh, come on,” Ella grinned mischievously, her eyes darting to a figure sitting alone at the bar. “What about them? A little fun won’t hurt.”

Alessia followed her gaze to you, sitting casually at the bar with a drink in hand. You had a relaxed air about you, not engaging in the group frenzy of post-victory excitement but rather observing with a quiet smile.

“Ella,” Alessia warned, but Ella was already up, pushing her toward the bar.

“Just go say hi. They’re perfect for you. Trust me,” Ella said, her grin widening as she nudged her friend forward.

Alessia hesitated for a moment, then sighed, getting up and following her friend’s plan—albeit reluctantly.

You noticed her the moment she walked over. Alessia Russo—one of the stars of the tournament, effortlessly glowing, her presence commanding yet down-to-earth. You’d recognized her earlier, but you hadn’t expected her to come up to you.

“Hi,” Alessia said, her voice smooth and warm. “Mind if I join you for a drink?”

You smiled, motioning to the empty stool beside you. “Of course. Can’t say no to company, especially after such a big night.” You offered her a playful wink, not missing the fact that she’d taken a deep breath before sitting down.

“Yeah, I guess that was a pretty big win for us,” Alessia said, her fingers wrapping around her glass. She seemed a little out of her element but was determined not to show it.

“You’re Alessia Russo, right? I’ve been hearing your name a lot tonight.” You leaned in slightly, genuinely curious and enjoying the warmth of her energy.

Alessia laughed, her cheeks tinged with the slightest shade of pink. “That’s me. But no need to make it a big deal.” Her gaze held yours, and for a moment, there was a brief pause, a subtle tension forming between the two of you.

She tilted her head, her expression shifting as her eyes softened. “I didn’t expect you to be alone tonight.”

You chuckled, shrugging. “Sometimes it’s nice to watch the chaos from the sidelines.”

“Well, I’ll be honest,” she said, leaning in just a little closer, “it’s much more fun to be in the chaos, don’t you think?”

Before you could respond, she moved her glass aside, her hand coming to rest on the counter, her fingers brushing against yours. The touch was subtle but electric, sparking a sense of anticipation. You met her gaze again, now more intense, the playful smile still lingering on your lips.

“Maybe you’re right,” you said, your voice lowering slightly. “But chaos can be a little… dangerous, don’t you think?”

Alessia’s breath hitched at your words, her lips parting slightly as she looked at you. “Depends on what kind of danger you’re talking about.” Her voice was softer now, the playful teasing replaced by something deeper, more intrigued.

It didn’t take much more than that for the atmosphere to shift. With a single motion, you slid your hand over to hers, your fingers lightly grazing the back of her hand. The small touch sent a wave of warmth through you both, and Alessia’s smile widened, her eyes never leaving yours.

“You know, I think I can handle a little danger,” she murmured, her voice low and seductive.

Before you could respond, she leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was electric, sending a rush of desire through both of you. It started soft and tentative, but the more your lips moved together, the more urgent the kiss became.

You gently cupped her face, deepening the kiss, your heart racing as her hands slid up to your waist, pulling you closer. The world around you seemed to disappear, the noise of the bar fading into the background as you were consumed by the kiss.

When you finally pulled back for air, both of you were breathless, your lips tingling. Alessia’s hand rested on your thigh, her eyes filled with a mixture of amusement and something much more intense.

“Well, that escalated quickly,” you said, a grin tugging at your lips.

“Sometimes,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “you just need to throw yourself into it.” She gave you a sly smile. “Want to keep going?”

The tension between you was undeniable, and just as you were about to answer, you felt Ella’s eyes on you. She was standing a few steps away, clearly watching the whole interaction unfold, a teasing grin plastered across her face.

“Ella, stop staring,” Alessia groaned, turning slightly, but the playful smile never left her lips.

Ella raised her glass, giving you both an exaggerated thumbs-up. “I knew it. Go get ’em, Alessia,” she called, before turning back to the group, leaving you and Alessia to your moment.

Alessia rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress her smile. “She’s the worst.”

You chuckled, still captivated by her energy. “Don’t worry, I think she approves.”

With a smirk, Alessia leaned in again, this time brushing her lips against yours in a teasing kiss. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

The night at the bar was in full swing now, with the Lionesses continuing to celebrate their Euros victory in their usual chaotic, jubilant manner. The music was louder, the laughter was infectious, and everyone had long since loosened up, enjoying the euphoria of the win.

But amidst the celebration, Alessia and you found yourselves drifting into your own bubble, each touch and glance more charged than before. You both had drunk just enough to let go of any inhibitions, the alcohol loosening you up as your flirtation turned into something more heated, more urgent.

“You know,” Alessia slurred lightly, her words slightly unsteady as she leaned into you, “I don’t think I’ve ever been so impressed with a stranger before.”

You laughed softly, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You really don’t think I’m a stranger anymore, do you?”

She shrugged playfully, the tips of her fingers tracing a slow line along your arm, sending a shiver down your spine. “Not when you kiss like that. And definitely not when you look at me like that.”

You could feel the heat between you growing as her gaze dropped to your lips, lingering there. Every part of you wanted her, wanted to feel the electric tension that had been building between you since the moment you met.

“You’re making it hard to concentrate,” you said, voice low as you leaned in closer.

Her breath hitched as you brushed your lips against hers, the kiss slow and intoxicating, full of the need that had been building all night. The alcohol in your system made everything feel more intense, more urgent, but you both knew this wasn’t just a drunken whim.

This was real.

“Want to get out of here?” Alessia asked between kisses, her hands sliding up your back to pull you even closer.

Without saying another word, you grabbed her hand, leading her out of the bar. Neither of you cared about the stares or the noise—your focus was entirely on each other.

The cool night air hit your face as you stepped out into the street, your pulse racing. You didn’t even know where you were going, only that you needed to get somewhere quieter, somewhere you could have her all to yourself.

Alessia’s hand never left yours as she followed you, her body close enough to feel the heat radiating off her. The moment you found an empty alley, you stopped, turning to face her, your lips meeting hers again in a kiss that was hungry and desperate.

The world outside seemed to vanish. It was just the two of you now, your bodies pressed together as you kissed with abandon. Alessia’s hands slid down to your hips, pulling you into her as she let out a soft moan, the sound only spurring you on.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” she whispered, her voice low and thick with desire as she trailed kisses down your neck.

You leaned your head back, gasping as her lips moved to your skin. “Alessia,” you breathed, your hands gripping her shoulders as she kissed a trail lower, the heat between you growing stronger.

“Let’s get out of here,” she murmured, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, her hands trembling slightly as she brushed a strand of hair from your face.

You nodded, barely able to form words. All you could think about was how badly you wanted her, how everything about this moment felt so right.

When you finally made it to your flat, the door slammed shut behind you as Alessia wasted no time, her lips crashing into yours as soon as you stepped inside. Her hands were everywhere—your waist, your hips, your back—pulling you closer, pushing you further until there was no space left between you.

The kiss deepened, both of you frantic now, the alcohol heightening every touch, every sensation. Alessia’s hands slid beneath your clothes, her touch sending waves of heat through you, and you responded eagerly, your hands skimming down her body as you moved together.

In a blur of motion, you found yourselves in the bedroom. Clothes were discarded, both of you too eager to waste time. The moment you were both naked, Alessia hovered over you, her body pressing down against yours as she kissed you with such intensity that it left you breathless.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice a mixture of desire and concern as she looked down at you.

You pulled her closer, your lips brushing against hers as you whispered, “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

And with that, the world outside ceased to exist. There was only Alessia, only the heat of her body against yours, the rhythm of your movements, the quiet sounds of your breaths as you gave in to each other.

Every touch, every kiss, was a promise, an exploration of the connection between you. You had no idea how long the night lasted, only that when the two of you finally collapsed together, tangled in sheets, you felt completely whole.

The next morning, you woke up to Alessia lying beside you, her hand resting on your waist, her soft breath against your neck. For a moment, you just lay there, the warmth of the morning sun filtering through the window, everything feeling perfect, peaceful.

When Alessia stirred and woke up, she smiled softly at you, her blue eyes half-lidded but filled with affection. “You’re still here,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you replied, pulling her closer, your lips meeting in a lazy kiss.

She smiled, her hand caressing your cheek. “Good. Because I’m not done with you yet.”

The days that followed that wild night were just as intense, though quieter. There was something uniquely intimate about waking up next to Alessia every morning, tangled in the sheets, her body pressed against yours. It felt like the two of you had crossed an unspoken threshold, and now everything between you was raw and real—no barriers, just the connection you shared.

You spent the next week basking in that new, deepened intimacy. The two of you would get lost in each other’s arms, your kisses lingering, your hands exploring slowly as if you were both trying to memorize the feel of one another. Every touch was more meaningful, every kiss more passionate.

One evening, as you and Alessia curled up on the couch after a long day, she looked at you with a glint in her eye that made your stomach flip.

“Hey,” she said softly, turning to face you. “Do you want to go away again? Like, just the two of us. Somewhere quiet. I think we need more time like that.”

You smiled, your fingers brushing along the back of her hand. “I’d love that. A weekend away. Just you, me, and nothing else.”

Her lips curled into a smile, and she kissed you gently, the kind of kiss that felt like a promise. “Let’s do it. I want more moments with you—just us.”

The weekend getaway was exactly what the two of you needed. You found a secluded cabin in the countryside, away from the prying eyes of the city and the hectic schedule of daily life. The whole weekend felt like a secret, a shared space where no one could interrupt the quiet moments you carved out for each other.

Alessia loved the calm. You would spend your mornings wrapped up in blankets, drinking coffee together, talking about anything and everything. At night, you would find yourselves by the fire, the glow of the flames reflecting in her eyes as she looked at you with that softness you’d come to crave.

One evening, as you sat by the fire, Alessia’s hand resting lightly on your leg, she looked over at you with that familiar, intense gaze.

“I love these moments with you,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “It’s not just the sex, or the passion—it’s this—the quiet. The way I feel when it’s just you and me.”

You met her gaze, your heart swelling. “I love you, Alessia. I love everything about us, and I’m so grateful for this—everything we have.”

Without another word, she leaned in to kiss you, soft and slow, as if savoring the moment. Her fingers traced the outline of your jaw as she deepened the kiss, pulling you closer. Your bodies pressed together, the warmth from the fire mixing with the heat between you, and you couldn’t help but respond with equal urgency.

“You’re perfect,” Alessia murmured between kisses, her lips moving to your neck as you tilted your head to give her better access. “I never want to stop being close to you.”

“I don’t either,” you whispered, hands moving to her back, feeling the warmth of her skin under the fabric of her shirt.

Her breathing became faster as she kissed you again, her body pressing into yours as you both let go, letting the moment carry you away.

The following days felt like a dream. You explored the quiet countryside, taking long walks hand in hand, stopping by local markets and buying trinkets. But it was the nights that stood out the most, where Alessia would pull you close after a long day, and the two of you would fall into each other, bodies entangled, hearts racing, and love spilling out in every touch.

Each time she kissed you, each time her hands found your skin, it felt like an unspoken promise. There was no rush, no need to rush—just the simplicity of being with the person you loved, and sharing a love that was growing deeper, more intense with every passing day.

That night, after another quiet dinner by the fire, Alessia pulled you to your feet, her hands sliding under your shirt as she kissed you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“I want you,” she said, her voice low, almost growling in desire. “I need you. Right here, right now.”

You didn’t hesitate. The love and desire were so powerful, so overwhelming, that nothing else mattered.

You kissed her back with equal fervor, your hands roaming her body as she pulled you toward the bedroom, the passion between you both a silent language, saying everything that words couldn’t.

Once in the bedroom, you both stripped the last of your clothing off, your bodies bare and vulnerable but entirely consumed with each other. Alessia’s hands were everywhere, her kisses soft but desperate, her desire for you clear in every touch.

She pushed you gently onto the bed, her body following yours as she straddled you, her lips moving from your mouth down to your chest, her breath hot against your skin.

“Alessia…” you whispered, your voice trembling.

She looked up at you, her gaze dark and filled with need. “I want to feel you, feel every part of you,” she said, her voice almost a growl.

And then she moved, the two of you lost in each other as your bodies connected, moving together with a rhythm that felt natural, electric.

Each kiss, each movement was an act of devotion, the passion undeniable, your connection stronger than ever. There was no rush this time. It was just you and her, fully, deeply, and completely intertwined, both of you savoring every second.

The days after the getaway were quieter, but the bond between you and Alessia had deepened in ways words could never explain. The intimacy you shared wasn’t just physical—it was emotional, a connection that felt like it would last a lifetime.

And as you looked at her, your hand in hers, you knew this was only the beginning. Every moment you spent with her, every kiss, every touch, only made you fall deeper in love.

Life after the getaway was a whirlwind of domestic bliss. The quiet moments with Alessia, whether spent curled up on the couch or enjoying quiet dinners together, became more meaningful. You both reveled in the simplicity of being together, finding joy in the smallest of moments—whether it was watching Milo chase after his favorite toy or making each other laugh over the most ridiculous things.

But as the weeks passed, something began to shift. The casual conversation you’d had about a future together, a family, and the life you both dreamed of seemed to be inching closer to reality.

One evening, as you and Alessia were sitting on the balcony of your flat, sharing a glass of wine and looking out over the city skyline, the conversation took a turn.

“You know,” Alessia began, setting her glass down on the table, her fingers tracing the rim, “I’ve been thinking a lot about the future lately.”

You looked at her, intrigued. “What about it?”

She met your gaze, a slight smile tugging at her lips. “Well, I think I’m ready. You know, for the next step.”

Your heart skipped a beat, unsure if she meant what you thought she did. “What do you mean by ‘next step’?” you asked, your voice soft but hopeful.

Alessia chuckled, the sound low and rich. “I’m thinking about us—really thinking about us. About… starting a family.”

You froze, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding you. “Are you serious?”

Her eyes softened as she leaned closer to you, her hand resting gently on your knee. “I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

For a moment, there was only silence as you processed her words. It felt like your heart was swelling, the weight of the future you both wanted becoming clearer. You reached for her hand, holding it tightly.

“I want that too,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. “I want a family with you. More than anything.”

Alessia’s smile grew, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “I’ve never been more certain of anything. I think we’re ready.”

As the weeks passed, the conversations about starting a family grew more serious. You and Alessia found yourselves discussing practicalities—where you’d want to live, how many kids you imagined, what kind of life you’d want to create for them. But beyond the logistics, it was the love that filled every conversation. The deep, unshakable love you both shared made the idea of starting a family together feel like the most natural step in the world.

One night, as you lay in bed together, Alessia pulled you close, her fingers tracing gentle circles on your back.

“So,” she murmured, her voice low and full of affection, “do you think we’re ready?”

You turned in her arms, meeting her gaze. “I think we’re more than ready. We’ve built something beautiful together, Alessia. And now, we’re ready to grow it.”

Her smile was radiant, and she kissed you tenderly, her hand moving to your stomach as if already imagining the future. “I love you so much,” she whispered.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “And I can’t wait to see what comes next. Together.”

Several months later, you and Alessia were standing in the kitchen, preparing dinner together. It was a quiet evening, the kind where everything felt perfectly in place. As you chopped vegetables, you noticed Alessia stealing glances at you, a slight grin playing at the corner of her lips.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” you asked, laughing softly.

She raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “I’m just imagining our little one running around here in a few years. It’s going to be amazing, Y/N.”

Your heart fluttered at her words. “It’s going to be perfect,” you whispered, taking her hand in yours.

Alessia pulled you into her arms, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was filled with love and hope for the future. “I can’t wait to make this dream a reality.”

The next step was a small but significant one—visiting a fertility clinic to begin the process of trying for a baby. It wasn’t something either of you took lightly, but the decision felt right. You supported each other every step of the way, knowing that the journey ahead would require patience and understanding.

When the news came, when you finally saw those two pink lines on the test, the world seemed to stop for a moment. You were both overwhelmed with joy, knowing that you were about to embark on the greatest adventure of your lives.

“I’m going to be a mom,” Alessia whispered, her voice shaky with emotion as she held up the pregnancy test.

Tears filled your eyes as you pulled her into a tight embrace. “We’re going to be parents. Together.”

From that moment on, everything changed. You both began to prepare for the arrival of your child, from setting up a nursery to discussing names, to the tiny but significant moments that marked the beginning of your journey into parenthood. Every step was filled with anticipation and love.

One evening, as you both sat in the nursery, Alessia’s hand resting on your growing belly, she looked at you with a softness in her eyes that made your heart swell.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she said, her voice filled with awe. “We’re starting a family. It’s just… incredible.”

You smiled, your hand covering hers. “It’s incredible because it’s with you. We’ve built this life together, and now we’re going to build even more.”

She kissed you gently, her lips lingering as she whispered against your skin, “You’ve made all my dreams come true, Y/N. I can’t wait to see the next chapter of our story.”

And in that moment, you knew that no matter what the future held, you would face it together, with love, strength, and a family of your own to cherish.

[darnell-la]

Can you do dark!Logan being kinky and baby trapping you?

summary: Logan knew everything in the past, wouldn’t matter once he did his job, so he decided to go on a side mission to fulfill a dream he’s been dreaming about for years.

btw, this story was a bit rushed just like the rest that we will be posting soon. college has been kicking our main authors ass…

DO NOT READ IF CNC/SA TRIGGERS YOU!

———

Logan had woken up on a huge hotel bed, with a hand over him. The man was confused, not understanding what was going on until he remembered he was sent back in time.

Logan quickly got dressed, not wanting to wake up the women that were in his bed. His only thought was on y/n. He even remembered offering his room to these two women because he couldn’t have y/n.

Y/n was and still is dating Scott Summers. Logan couldn’t stand it. Scott had confronted Logan once, telling him and everyone how jealous Logan was of him because he had everything the lonely animalistic man wanted.

Logan couldn’t help but laugh when Scott thought he read him like a book. Logan could have any girl Scott wanted. He proved that by reeling in Jean.

Logan wanted y/n before anyone knew who she was. He was the first to see her, the first to talk to her, the first to make her laugh, and the first to make her upset. Logan hated the fact that they didn’t talk as much because of Scott.

“We can’t talk if you’re gonna keep flirting with me, Logan. I’m not Jean, and I’ll never be her,” y/n said years ago at a party after Logan pulled her into a bathroom.

“I know you’re not Jean. You’re better, and he knows that. He knew I wanted you, so he got you first,” Logan tried explaining to y/n, but she ended up leaving after apologizing. It wasn’t her problem or fault that Logan couldn’t commit.

Logan is currently outside of y/n’s house, debating on whether he should go through with this or not. He bought a basket, hoping he could sweet talk his way into her house, maybe even get her to take him and leave Scott.

“Hello?” Y/n asked in her sweet and soft voice as she opened the front door. “Logan- Hey, what are you doing here?” Y/n asked as she opened her door further, seeing a friendly face.

“Hey, just wanted to stop by. It’s been a few months, right?” Logan wanted to confirm to make sure his dates were right. “Yep — I do miss the team, though. Maybe I’ll visit next week,” y/n smiled.

“Could I maybe come in, and put this down?” Logan asked as he lifted the basket that he had put together for a good hour. “Yeah, of course,”

Y/n and Logan talked for a while, catching up on each other, but she couldn’t help but notice how flirty he was. She had told him not too long ago, that he needed to quit with it.

“Logan, it’s nice to meet you and all, but you can’t just come in here- In my house that Scott pays for, and flirt with me — I-I thought you came by to say congratulations on Scott’s sad mistake,” y/n giggled at the end of her sentence.

“Congratulations? To what?” Logan asked. “Didn’t Scott tell you as well as the others that I was pregnant? Well, at least I thought I was. Sadly, I was only two weeks late,”

Logan felt an instant pressure in his head. He’s never known anything about any close pregnancy. If his calculations are right, this would only be the first six months of Scott and y/n dating.

“Are you okay? Logan, hey,” y/n snapped her fingers in Logan’s face to get him back into reality. “You were almost pregnant? How? Why? When- I-“ Logan couldn’t keep himself from thinking.

It’s almost like Scott took no time to try and claim her — To try and claim what was his.

“Relax, I’m not actually pregnant. We’ve had our small talk, and we think it’s better to wait until it’s our one-year anniversary,” y/n smiled as she sat down on the living room couch.

“You haven’t even been with the man for a year, and you already had a pregnancy scare? Are you serious, y/n?” Logan asked in a tone y/n was surprised by. Why was he so upset?

“I mean, we’re around the age people start making a family, so-“ y/n went to continue, ur Logan cut her off with a loud sigh as he rubbed his hands all over his face. He’s never been this stressed in his life.

“You let him breed you? Are you- Fuckin’ hell, Bub,” Logan cussed as y/m scrunched her eyes. “Logan, what is your problem? Scott has been my boyfriend for months. Why do you care if he breeds me?” Y/n could barely repeat the word Logan had used.

The tall man snapped his neck to look at her. He was upset about how she could see how wrong this was. Opening her legs, and letting Scott go in raw within six months?

“You wouldn’t even kiss me when I tried. You wouldn’t touch me. You wouldn’t let me please you — I was willing to keep it slow and only go down on you, but you rejected me? For what? For Scott!?”

“Logan, it’s fine to leave,” y/n got up to show Logan out of her home, but instead of letting her, he pushed her back down on the couch. “No! No more running. I’m fuckin’ tired of this. Are you even happy? Do you seriously see more in him than me!?”

“Logan, please just leave. Scott will be back in half an hour, and-“ y/n tried getting up again, but this time, Logan pushed her down on her back and hovered over her.

“Then he can come home to a pretty sight if you bread right,” Logan growled before he began tugging at y/n’s leggings that he just knew Scott bought for her. All Scott did was buy things Logan would love seeing y/n in.

“Logan- Stop! Get off of me!” Y/n tried fighting, almost forgetting that Logan was a mutant and she wasn’t. He was automatically stronger than him. He didn’t even struggle.

“Gonna take it easy on you for right now, Bub, but when I get back to my future past, I’m gonna give you think kids you want,”

Y/n didn’t know what to say. He was all over the place. She’s never seen anything like this in Logan. She wanted to talk to him and ask him what was going on, but that left her mind when he got her leggings just under her ankles.

“Logan- Stop this! Get off of me, you can’t- You can’t fucking do this!” Y/n cried out, upset that Logan never got the idea. It’s not like y/n never saw anything in him.

Y/n just hated how he wanted women to chase him, and when he never got them to, he pushed until he got what he wanted. Today, he had to do more the seduce a woman with his looks and words.

“I can do whatever I want. Who’s gonna fuckin’ stop me, huh? You? Oh, you can’t lie, Bub. I smell how sweet you are from up here,” Logan chuckled as he pulled himself out of his jeans.

“You know, when I get back, the date will be set back before Scott met you, meaning, I get to have another chance. I could’ve waited to taste you, but as soon as you mentioned Scott impregnated you — God, that pissed me off,”

Logan held his cock as he pushed pushed into her. He knew his length would be the biggest she’d ever taken, and that only made him want to stretch her out more.

“L-Lo!” Y/n screamed as her back automatically arched. “Yeah, that’s it? Haven’t had a good cock since you’ve been with Scott, huh?” Logan asked as he continued pushing his cock through her lips.

“Logan!” Y/n cried loudly as he slammed himself all the way into her. “Take it, baby — I know you can,” Logan took his hands and pushed her waist into the couch, pinning her down so she couldn’t get away.

“Just look at you — You’re soaked and gripping me so tight,” Logan pounded away as y/n’s eyes rolled to the back of her head. She tried telling herself she couldn’t do this, but the way her body reacted made things so difficult.

“I bet you’ll love it when I fill you up, babe — No matter how much you say no, I know you’ll love it. You’ll love me,”

[xoxolilixx]

★𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙠𝙚𝙙 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙣𝙚★

𝙀𝙠𝙠𝙤 𝙭 𝙛𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

✩𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 - you help Ekko relax a little

✩𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙨 - Smut with plot, fingering, oral(reader receiving)

✩𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙧𝙨 𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚 - heyyyy😅 ik it's been a while, I kinda disappeared off the face of the earth, MY BADDDDD😁 I figured since I've been gone for a good second, I should come back with a treat, so here you are lovebugs❤️ I hope you guys like it🩷🌺

Sweat trickled down his forehead as he worked. He was hunched over his desk, hands aching and mind clouded as he continued his repairs to his hoverboard. It was late –3 am to be exact– and Ekko’s been sleepless since the battle on the bridge with Jinx. You were worried about him. You knew how stressful this was for him; between failing to save his former best friend and making sure everything stays afloat with the firelights, he was basically drowning in his work and stress. Ekko was a relatively calm person, but whenever you tried to talk to him about everything, he would just shut down and push you away, so you learned to give him space, but tonight you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m surprised you haven’t frozen to stone like that,” you spoke softly, not wanting to startle him. His workshop door was cracked open and all the lights except for the one that sat right above his desk were dimmed. “...you should be asleep,” he whispered, not looking up from his work. His voice was weary and tired, you could hear the stress in his voice, it made your heart crack. “So should you, love,” your voice stayed soft, calming. The last thing you wanted was to be another harsh thing in his life right now. “The bed misses you,” you joked softly as you came up behind him, your soft hands landing on his shoulders. They were tense, his whole body was, and the tenseness didn’t falter when you touched him like how it usually did. “I’ll be there soon,” he uttered. “How soon? By the end of the month? Because I haven’t seen you in bed in 3 weeks,” you were sincere with a half joking tone as your hands gently ran down his body as you hugged him from behind, “I miss you baby…just…come on for tonight, get some rest. It’ll be here in the morning- I’ll even come in and help you with it,” you pleaded softly, your lips against his neck as you eyed his work from his shoulder. You didn’t want him to open up before he was ready, you didn’t want to push his limits, and you didn’t want to bitch to him about how closed off he’s been, you just wanted him to get some rest.

He sighed at your words, his hands pausing their movements for just a small moment, “Just-...let me finish this up, okay?” he uttered, his tone slightly softer than before. You huffed as you felt him lean into your arm, planting a small kiss on your upper arm as he started working again. You knew him, he wasn’t going to come to bed any time soon, he would just magically find something else that needed his attention and forget all about getting rest. “You’re helpless, you know that?” you huffed out against the shell of his ear, “your whole workshop is gonna be renovated before you come to bed.” He could hear the slight irritation in your words as you removed your touch from him, it made him tense up more. He knew you were being patient with him, and knowing that he was making it harder for you somehow made him feel worse than the stress did.

“Wait,” he uttered out before you got too close to the door. You immediately turn around, as if it was a reflex, “yes Ekko?” “...c’here,” he uttered, his hands abandoning his work as he looked over his shoulder. You didn’t fight the urge to walk back over to him. Soon, you were standing in between his legs and his hands were on your hips. “I’m sorry baby,” he sighed, his hands giving a loving squeeze to your body. His stress seemed to melt away the more you were around him, and you loved that, but constantly trying to get him to melt was frustrating, so you wanted to milk this as much as you could.

“Prove it,” you huffed, feigning irritation as you crossed your arms. For the first time in a while, he cracked a smile, chuckling as he immediately picked up on your game. “You want me to prove that I’m sorry?” he chuckled, his hands running up your waist, pushing up your (his) shirt as he did so. “Yea,” you huffed, your act almost breaking as he tugged you down on his lap, making you straddle him. “And tell me princess, how do you want me to do that?” he smirked as your hands rested on his shoulders as his hand gently grabbed your chin, running his thumb across your bottom lip. “Surprise me,” you smiled, finally breaking your act. It felt like he was a magnet, slowly pulling you closer, the space in between you closing at a steady pace. “Surprise you, huh? I got you~” he uttered before pressing his lips into yours.

This was the quickest you’ve ever seen Ekko forget about a project. Your lips danced with his as his hands roamed your body, running from your waist to your hip down to your thighs before finally resting on your ass, his hands giving it a soft squeeze. Your hands weren't much different; running from his shoulders down his chest to his abs and then back up to his blonde locs. It didn't take long for all restraint to disappear once his tongue slipped into your mouth, a soft whine escaping your throat as he explored your mouth. You felt him smile into the kiss, making your heart melt. If this was all it took to get him to loosen up, you would’ve been tried this.

You felt him remove one of his hands off your body, reaching behind you to tug his hoverboard off the table and onto the floor, giving him space to grab your hips and lift you up onto the table. You stayed connected in a messy kiss as he gripped your thighs and toyed with the waistband of your night shorts. You finally broke away, strings of saliva connecting you both as you panted softly, trying to catch your breath as you smiled down at him as he tugged at your waistband, a smile on his face as while. “There we go~” you cooed, your soft hands cupping his cheeks, “Finally got you to smile f’me,” you giggled, his smile only growing bigger. “Who wouldn’t for you, baby?” he chuckled as he tugged down your waistband, silently signalling to you to lift your hips, which you happily obliged.

He pressed soft, wet kisses all along your jaw and neck as he tossed your shorts somewhere behind him, pushing your thick thighs apart, revealing the damp spot on your orange, lacy panties, bringing a smirk on his face. “All that for me?” he smirked slyly, gripping you by your thighs and tugging you closer to the edge of the table. “No one else but you,” you giggled. “You must have really missed me,” he chuckled before pressing a kiss into your lips, swallowing the soft moan you let out when the pad of his thumb pushed into your clit through the flimsy fabric. The pretty sounds continued to spill out as he drew tight circles into the little bud.

At some point, he slowly stood up, his lips still locked with yours and his fingers still moving. “Lay back f’me baby,” he muttered against your lips lowly, but you weren't giving much of a choice when he placed a hand on your stomach and gently pushed you back. A shiver went down your spine as he placed soft, wet kisses down your body, making his way between your thighs, sucking hickeys over top of the stretch marks on your inner thighs. You leaned up on your elbows, looking down your body and watching him work on your body, allowing your eyes to lock with his. God damn it, he was fucking gorgeous like this; in between your legs, looking up with hooded but loving eyes, blonde locs falling in his face just a little. A gasped escaped your lips as he kissed your clothed cunt before he tugged the messy fabric to the side. Ekko bit back a groan as he watched strings of your arousal fall from the fabric as your pussy shimmered under the dim lighting. His dick leaked in his pants a little at the sight. “You’re so fucking pretty~” he cooed softly, making your heart melt and your cheeks flush, but before you could even respond, his mouth was on your cunt, coaxing struggled whines and moans from you as the sound of him slurping and licking your core filled the room. Your fingers tangled in his locs, tugging his head deeper between your legs as your head lulled back, your hips grinding against his face as he gripped your thigh with one hand, tugging you impossibly closer to him as he slipped one of his long, thick fingers into your tight hole.

He ate you like a starved man, but honestly the way he’s been locked up in his workshop, you wouldn’t be surprised if he was one. He now had two fingers pumping in and out of you, curling perfectly against that one gummy spot inside of you as he slurped and sucked at your clit, the juices from your previous orgasm pooling in the palm of his hand and on his desk under you.

He reluctantly detached from your cunt after your third orgasm leaving you a panting and shaking mess in front of him as he smirked down at you. “How’s that for proof?” he smirked, earning a breathless giggle from you as he licked your juices off his now dripping hand. “Ya know, I came in here to try and help you un-stress~” you giggled. “Hm, then you did a amazing fucking job baby,” he chuckled lowly, leaning down to lock lips with you, allowing you to taste yourself on his lips.

“Lets go to bed~” he uttered, scooping you off his table, leaving a mess for him to clean up later.

[eddiesvixen]

Dirty Rotten Filthy Stinkin’ Rich - 𝗗.𝗥.𝗙.𝗦.𝗥

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 (𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗻𝗴) , 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝘂𝗯𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗻𝗰𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲 (𝗱𝗲𝘃𝗶𝗹’𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝘁𝘁𝘂𝗰𝗲)

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗻𝘁: 𝟱.𝟭𝗸

the sixth and final chapter of Open Til Midnight

The car ride is silent on your way home from the station. You’re sat in the backseat of Hopper’s truck with Eddie as he eats away at the meal Jonathan brought you. You didn’t have an appetite honestly. Nothing filled you mroe right now than the rage you feel for Larry.

That smug face he gave you, the accusatory tone he used against Eddie when those cops showed up. The way he looked at Hopper like he wasn’t worth a wad of gum on the sidewalk. You wanted to make that bastard pay.

Hopper drops you and Eddie off at his apartment.

“You two gonna be okay?” He looks back at the both of you, tired and defeated. You’ve never seen Hopper like this and that hurt’s you more.

“We’ll be fine.” You nod. “See you tomorrow.”

You hop out of the truck and go into Eddie’s apartment with him. He’s been awfully quiet and that worries you given how uncommon it is. You speak up.

“Do you want me to draw you a bath? Help you relax?”

He hesitates, not facing you. He hasn’t said a word since he watched you hand that cash in at the jailhouse for him. “Shower’s fine.” He walks off to the restroom.

You sigh and rub your eyes, fighting off how tired you are. Shutting down the car wash took Robin and Steve forever, leaving Chrissy to work the register alone while Jonathan brought the cash to you guys at the jailhouse. They didn’t count the cash and get Eddie out until 10, and now you’re home late 11.

‘Maybe he’s just tired.’

Bullshit.

You walk to the restroom door. “Eddie.”

There’s a gap of silence before he speaks up, his voice slightly shaky and that alone makes you wish you could break this door down.

“Yeah sweetheart?”

“Baby please let me in.” You place your hand to the knob. “Please.”

After a few seconds you hear the door unlock and when you open it you see him sitting on the lid of the toilet, eyes red and puffy from crying.

“Eddie.” You frown and hold onto him, standing between his legs.

He hugs you tightly and sobs into your shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

You frown and rub his back. “Eddie you have nothing to apologize for, yeah? Larry was a dick. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”

He sobs a bit and you feel that ache in your heart. You haven’t seen Eddie cry this hard since his 18th birthday. He couldn’t stop crying over his mom, he missed her the most that day. And he kept playing that record over and over again. So you rest your hand in his curls.

There are places I remember

All my life though some have changed

Some forever, not for better

Some have gone and some remain

He takes a deep breath and keeps his tight hold on you, his breathing trying to regain strength. You keep rubbing his shoulders and back, feeling the tension fade.

All these places had their moments

With lovers and friends I still can recall

Some are dead and some are living

In my life, I've loved them all

He looks up at you. He sighs and gently grips your hips. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You offer him a sympathetic grin as you move his curls back so you can see his eyes better.

“You’re not perfect, Eddie. You’re a freak, remember? We’re never gonna be accepted by these people. We don’t have to be accepted.. and I know that’s scary.” You sigh. “Eddie, i’m terrified. I’ve been scared out of my mind all week.”

You cup his face. “But Steve and Chrissy, Robin, Jonathan, Hopper.. even that old man at the car wash,” you huff a small laugh, “and especially you, Eddie. That’s why I keep going. Because I have you.”

He eyes dart between your eyes and he speaks in a soft tone, as if he’s afraid to talk. “I love you.”

You feel your heart warm and freeze at the same time. Sure, you’ve said it before, as friends. But you’re not just friends anymore. You answer back in the same soft tone.

“I love you too, Eddie.”

He stands up and cups your face, kissing you as if you’ll fade away if he lets go. You kiss him back and keep your gentle hold on him, given that he’s still trembling a bit.

When he finally pulls back he speaks lowly. “Sweetheart, I promise i’ll make this right.”

You shake your head. “Eddie, there’s nothing we can do. We don’t even know what’s gonna happen tomorrow.”

“I do.” He nods and sighs. “I overheard those officers talking while the clerk was counting my bail. I know where Larry’s gonna be for the opening.”

You raise a brow. “What?”

“He’s having a party with the rest of his big business buddies. Cutting a ribbon and everything, like some kind of ceremony.”

“And how do you know this?”

Eddie moves his hands to rest on your shoulders. “I heard them sweetheart. It’s gonna be a huge event.” He shakes his head. “Turns out I was right about the cops being on his payroll.”

You nod. “Well then we better make sure they know about Larry’s letters.”

“Have a feeling they already do.”

You frown, the weight of his words sinking in. "So what's our play? We can't just sit back and let them sweep this under the rug."

He grins with a mischievous glint in his eyes. The same glint you saw before he punched Larry. "But we wont. If they're so busy making a scene, we'll just have to steal the show."

You had so many questions and yet, that glint in Eddie’s eyes woke you up. All of the anger, sadness, worry, rage and anxiety you felt all week. Play it cool. Wrap things up. You nod.

“We’ll steal the show.”

~~~~~

“Are you out of your mind?” Steve says from behind Hopper’s desk.

“Just hear me out.” Eddie sits up in his chair. “Those assholes are about to drink and party up in their fancy suits while our family ship sinks. There’s gonna be an orange slip on the door and a big ass sign hanging over our store tonight. Do you really want that?”

“Of course not.” Steve sighs.

“So let us do this, just once.” You look at Steve with pleading eyes.

“You just got out of jail.” Steve points at Eddie, then you. “And you’re not even on the schedule today.”

“And yet here we are. Home.” Eddie sits back in his chair.

“Look… I hate this, okay? I’m losing my mind knowing this’ll be the last time I step foot in here. But Hopper left me in charge.”

“So,” Eddie shrugs, “where is he? We’ll distract him while you give us the paperwork.”

“Downtown.”

You both look at Steve and he regrets saying it as soon as he does.

“Why’s he downtown?” You sit up and Steve swallows a bit because he knows from the look in your eye and the bounce of Eddie’s knee, that you both already know.

He sighs. “Signing off the lease.”

There’s a moments silence before Eddie speaks up.

“How long?”

Steve looks confused. “What?”

“How long do we have until the lease has to be in?”

“He said ten.”

You and Eddie look at each other. “The ribbon cutting.”

“The what?”

“At the party, Steve.” You sit up, hands on the desk. “Larry’s gonna cut a ribbon and that’s when those signatures count. That’s when it’s final.”

Steve looks at the clock. “It’s 3pm, why’d you come here just now?” He stands up with Hopper’s store keys as you all walk over to his closet.

Eddie hides a smrik and shrugs. “Traffic.”

You shake your head and look away so Steve doesn’t see the laughter you’re hiding but it’s late. “You guys are gross.”

“Not letting my girl leave the house stressed and untouched, Harrington. Take my advice.”

“Eddie.” You blank stare him and he sighs.

“Right, time and place. Sorry sweetheart.” He wiggles his fingers and takes the folder from Steve.

“Look, let’s maybe not tell Hop about this? In case it all goes to shit?” Steve looks between you and Eddie.

“Scouts honor.” Eddie quips as the three of you sit and look through the folders.

They’re all here. 5 years of letters, contracts, signatures from Hopper and Larry. You had a wave of hope swarm in you that you hope won’t die out.

“If there’s gonna be that many people at this party you need to move now.” Steve holds up his car keys.

Eddie raises a brow. “And what are these for?”

“Drives faster.”

Eddie scoffs. “My van is faster than lightning.”

“Okay? My car looks better-“

You cut off Steve before the boys can waste any more time. “Save it. We’ll take your car Steve. Beisdes, we have to make a stop on the way.”

“We do?” Eddie gives you a contemplative look.

“Come on.” You grab his hand.

Steve yells. “Don’t scratch my car!”

“No promises!” Eddie yells back as he lets you pull him out to the car.

~~~~

“This is bullshit.” Eddie groans as he drives Steve’s car along the road.

“Come on it’s not so bad.”

“His car’s so small.” He huffs and looks over at you as you hide a laugh. “Oh this is funny?”

You smile. “We are on the mission of a lifetime and you’re worried about driving Steve’s bmw. This is the richest car we’ve ever been in.”

“Are you really disrespecting the van while she sits in the lot away from me?” He looks at you like you called him ugly.

“Babe all im saying is… this is kinda nice. Admit it, Steve’s car does drive very smoothly.”

“No shit, he can actually afford the best engine and his dad didn’t fuck the motor when he owned it.”

You grab Eddie’s hand and rest it on your knee. “Al left you a gift. She is the golden ride, the safe haven, okay?”

He grins and nods, squeezing your hand before resting his palm over yours on yours on your thigh. “Say it again, baby.”

You laugh. “Shut up.”

“Just wanna hear you say it again. You know how much it would mean to her.” He smirks and you sigh.

“She is the safe haven.”

“Damn sweetheart. You keep talking like that and all I hear is wedding bells.”

Your eyes widen and you look at him. He can’t believe he said it too but you grin. “Wow.”

“Is that a good wow?” His adam’s apple bobs and he shifts in the driver’s seat, his other hand tightening on the wheel.

You grin and squeeze the one resting on your thigh. “The best wow.”

He snorts. “Sap.”

You gasp and smile. “Asshole. Says the guy who wouldn’t let go of my hand at the Manowar show in ‘85.”

“Oh you’re bringing that up again? Didn’t want us to get separated by that mosh.” The tinge in his cheeks shows you that he’s lying.

“You’re the sap, Munson.”

“And what does that make you?” He quips back.

“The girl in love with you, idiot.” You smile and tilt your head to look at him.

“You can’t say things like that. Not today, okay? Can’t focus if my girl is consistently flirting with me.”

“Fine, but we’ll finish this talk later.” You nod and point. “There’s our exit.”

He takes the exit and drives into the lot of the strip mall. If you were going to crash a rich asshole’s party, you needed to get in first. And if you were gonna get in, you needed to look the part. Jewelry to your hair to your clothes and shoes.

But you’re not rich assholes, you’re record shop workers. Record shop workers with a left over thousand dollars from your hard work this past week. You walk into the shop with Eddie and you look around for anything that will suit your style the best it can.

You found the prettiest black dress that slits up to your thigh and you picked out some jewelry to fit in with the other trophy wives bound to be at the party. You’d fixes your hair up and touched up your makeup to a soft glam. The black stilettos on your feet made you feel like you were actually rich, but damn did you miss your boots.

Any worries about your outfit goes out the window when you walk out of the dressing room and see Eddie. The black button up with the top two unbuttoned, he had on these black slacks that made you see him in a different light.

He manages to speak after his jaw falls slack. “Oh baby..”

You smile. “Look at you.”

“Me? Sweetheart, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.” He reaches his hand out and you take it, allowing him to pull you closer, your hands resting on his shoulders.

“You brush your hair down?” You grin, eyeing over the low bun he managed to fit his curls into.

“Well I can’t show up with a giant mane, they’ll never let us in.” He hesitates. “It’s not bad is it?”

“It’s fine.” You grin as he cups your face.

“You’re like a princess. They’ll never see you coming baby, all sophisticated and sexy.” His hands rest on your ass and you giggle.

“Thought you said no distractions.”

“We can spare a minute.” He puckers his lips and you laugh.

“Nerd.”

He smirks. “59, 58, 57…”

You cut him off by pulling him in for a kiss. He smiles and squeezes your ass, humming as he feels you lick into his mouth. He shuts the door of the fitting room and grips your body closer.

You murmur against his lips. “Watch the dress.”

He hums and carefully loosens his grip on your ass. He kisses you for a bit longer before pulling back with a smile on his face. “Are you wearing that damn lip tint?”

That lip tint you wear to every concert, the one that left the cherry scent on his cheek after you kissed it in the photobooth after graduation senior year. He loves it so much and you love how his eyes widen when he licks his lips to taste it again.

“It is!”

You laugh and before you can respond, he kisses you again, tongue delving out to taste the cherry from your lips.

You laugh and pull back. “Stop, you’re gonna smear it.”

“Oh, too late for that.” He pokes his tongue out and you laugh.

You wipe the corners of your lips. “Minute’s over.”

He groans and sighs. “Right.” He pulls out the envelope of cash from his slacks. “I’ll pay and you start the car.”

You take the keys from him. “Okay.”

You walk separate ways but before he gets too far you pull him in and kiss him and smile, speaking in that sultry tone he loves so much.

“It’s called cherry bomb.” You grin.

“Cherry bomb. I will bulk these, just so you know.” He smirks and licks his lips again. “Go, before you make us late.”

~~~~~

City lights, busy streets and almost twenty parking lots later you and Eddie found yourselves in the elevator of the Languard suites. You stand there a bit nervous. There was bound to be so many people in rich suits and dresses, the people who would determine what happens to Empire tonight.

Eddie holds your hand. “I just want you to know.. if this goes south,” he sighs and gives your hand a gentle squeeze, “night shifts are open at the diner, and Jeffrey says we’re welcome.”

You wish you didn’t have to hear those words from Eddie’s lips. You nod and squeeze his hand in return. “Okay.”

You share a look. “And if it doesn’t go south,” you grin, “we’ll go back to Empire and party all night.”

He smiles. “After some alone time?”

You laugh at his eagerness. “After some alone time.”

The elevator dings and opens, you wrap your arm around his as you walk off and see into the main hall where the party takes place.

It’s very lively and full of rich people in the fanciest clothes. There’s a fountain and music played by a live orchestra. Waiters standing in every corner and everyone has a glass of their desired drinks in their hands.

Eddie leans in and murmurs in your ear. “Fancy was an understatement.”

You grin and speak back. “I think i’m gonna be sick.”

He laughs and your eyes scan the party. “That asshole’s gotta be somewhere in here.”

“Hors d'oeuvres?” A waiter says as he holds up a platter of.. fish bites?

“No thanks.” Eddie says and he grabs two glasses of champagne from the table. When the waiter leaves he looks are you with a disgusted expression. “The hell was that?”

“Fish, mushrooms? I can’t tell.” You both cringe.

You look at the clock. “It’s 7:29. Think they’ll cut the ribbon soon?”

Eddie looks across the room where the dark blue ribbon lies near the performers. “Maybe, but we made it in time.”

“So what now?” You look at him.

“Lets try to find something actually edible.” He tugs you along.

You don’t find much and of course you don’t go unnoticed. It seems everyone at this party knows each other and have businesses, so you and Eddie play along to your best attempts.

You two actually had a pretty solid story. A lovely young couple with a family business passed down from your lovely late Uncle Jim, with a successful rise in vinyl sales and bigger rise in production. Simple, typical, rich. The story sells for a while.

Unfortunately for you and Eddie, rich people talk and they talk fast. As the two of you mingle you hear someone approach you. You smell him, actually. That disturbing scent of old cedar and the smell that the dry cleaning leaves on his suits.

“Rest poor Uncle Jim’s soul.” Larry fixes his hair and looks over the both of you.

“Thought I heard slithering, sweetheart there is a snake in here.” Eddie wraps an arm around your waist.

“Nice party, Larry.” You hold onto Eddie.

“Do I need to call security? This is a private event.”

“Oh, but it’s a business event and until midnight we are business partners, right baby?” You look at Eddie and he smirks, proud to see his girl standing up to an ass like Larry.

“Oh absolutely. Even have it right here.” Eddie pulls out an envelope from his slacks and Larry’s face drops as the company around him sees his mood change.

“Have you lost your mind?” He glares at you both, “I will not be threatened by a bunch of little rebels from some pathetic small music store.”

“Pathetic?” You tilt your head, “and so which one of your properties got you enough money to afford an event like this?”

“Certainly not yours.” He glares at you both.

Eddie pulls out the paper from the envelope and smiles. “How about a little toast? Little speech?” He clears his throat before Larry can even speak. “It is with great pleasure that I sign into agreement with Jim Hopper as partners in ownership of lot 387-“

“That’s enough.” Larry demands as a few people around us catch focus.

Eddie keeps reading. “On the present date February 16, 1981 all rights of personal sales, clientele and ownership of the land belong to the persons arranged on any legal form.”

Eddie drops the paper at Larry’s feet and a lot more people focus in, murmuring to themselves.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“We know our rights.” You unfold another paper from the envelope as you walk around now. The music has stopped and everyone is focused in on you and Eddie.

“See this? This is the first certificate of full ownership for lot 387, where a community music store has rested for the past 8 years.” You hold up the certificate, “and your friend Larry here has scammed me and my family.”

You hold it up and a lot of people can’t believe their eyes. Larry grits his teeth before he speaks up. “No such thing has happened, the lot is not made for personal ownership.”

“Then why sell it to us?” Eddie speaks up.

Larry's face twitches but he quickly recovers as straightens his tie. "That was a leasing agreement not a purchase," he tries to talk smoothly but he falters at the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. "There's a difference."

You wave the certificate for the crowd to see. “The difference is Larry here, has had my boss, the most cooperative and honest man sign these fake certificates. Otherwise known as an incomplete certificate.”

“This ribbon.” Eddie says now standing in front of it, “will kill the past 8 years that me and my girlfriend and my friends have built up. The community it’s raised and the sales that have gotten you all to this very room. All gone and for what? A bookstore? Something special to so many kids and families. Gone.”

Larry clenches his jaw, his face turning red.

"This isn't some charity case. Business is business and I have done my part."

"Business?" Eddie scoff. "Scamming hard working people and kicking them to the curb is business to you?"

“How much?” A woman in a fancy dress speaks up.

You look at her a bit confused so she rephrases. “Larry never told us how much he’d be making once he made his big sell tonight so how much is it?”

“Ten thousand.” You look at the woman then Larry. “And we almost had it too. Until we saw that the licenses were actually all in his name.”

Another man speaks up. “That’s just ridiculous.”

You nod. “And yet here we are, being ever so kind to you Larry. Not asking for money or land or anything from you.”

“Then why are you here?” If looks could kill you and Eddie would be melted and six feet under.

“We want our home.” Eddie says simply, tossing all of the papers to the floor. The crowd of business owners in the room watch closely as you and Eddie face Larry.

“No more business agreements, no certificates, no partnerships. We want it to ourselves. The land, the lot, the building. Where it’s always been, but ours.”

There’s moments silence before Larry take a step closer. “And if I say no?”

You tilt your head, meeting his cold stare. "Then we take this to court. Every little trick, every fake contract, every loophole you exploited." You take a step forward standing by Eddie. "You might win, the man always wins right? But it'll cost you. Reputation, clients, everything you worked so hard for. Everyone here who’s celebrating, do you think they’ll have your back when it all goes away?”

The room falls into the silence. For every man, there’s a man he must answer to. And as you look around the room you know you’re right. No one would risk all of this for anyone else, not me or Larry or anyone.

Eddie chimes in in a kinder tone. "Or... you sign it over. No lawsuits, no bad press. Just a clean break. We walk away with what's ours and you’ll never see us again. Nobody needs to know.”

You nod and look around the room. Nobody needs to know. You don’t know much about rich people or what deals they make and you don’t know how far this will get you and Eddie as he extends his hand.

So many eyes on the three of you. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest and your head swirling with thoughts. You can’t believe your eyes when you see Larry shake Eddie’s hand.

“Nobody needs to know.”

~~~~

You can’t stop staring at the papers in front of you. You’ve been reading them since they got here. The font, the title after your name. The amount of money following it.

Certificate of ownership, Jim Hopper.

Your name lies underneath with the title Co Owner.

Certificates and licenses under your names. The ownership of Empire Records is one hundred percent yours. You had people making offers at the party after finding out about Empire and how much money the store had brought for Larry’s career but you wanted it as your own. And now you look at the papers, rightfully yours.

“It’s not going anywhere you know.” Eddie smirks from behind you, smiling as he brings in your coffee.

You share a quick kiss, smirking when you pull away. “I just can’t believe it.”

“Yeah? Well, I told you you’re the favorite.” He lifts your lanyard, the title of assistant manager underneath your name.

“You’re my favorite.” You reach up from your seat and kiss him.

He murmurs against your lips. “Sap.”

You smile. “Shut up.”

You keep kissing until you hear the fake gags at the door from Steve and Chrissy. You both flip them off before pulling back.

“Can you two please keep that at home, it’s like watching two snakes slither into each other’s mouths.” Steve cringes dramatically.

You smile. “Technically this is my office, my rules.”

“Besides,” Eddie kisses you one last time before standing straight. “If I can’t kiss my girlfriend here i’ll think of somewhere else. Bathroom, back room, the van..”

Your eyes widen. “Eddie!”

Chrissy gasps. “You said those pillows were in the back for sleeping!”

“They are.” He smirks. “After we eat, have a little joint, then-“

“Eddie.” You give him that look and he shuts up.

“Anyways,” Steve pipes up, “customers are outside. Are the doors ready to open?”

Everyone looks at you. You smile. “We’re all set.”

The customers flood in and the store is in great business. There’s people coming in to listen to music, but records and even some acknowledge your help wanted sign. Now that you’re co owner, there’s more help needed on the sales floor. And you’re relieved to see so many people come in.

You order new deliveries for more records and check the booths. Managerly duties come easy to you since you’ve been here for so long, and you can’t help but admire all of your own hard work.

All of the money you raised, how determined you were to keep this place. Shutting down the corporate and keeping your families home. There’s a gentle hand on your shoulder.

Robin smirks. “Miss boss manager lady.”

You groan. “Rob come on. No big titles okay, im still me.”

“Someone needs your help.”

You raise a brow. “They asked for a manager?”

“Mhm. Right in the back room.” She nods, feigning seriousness.

“Okay um, ill be right back.” You walk down the stairs from the booths to the back room and you smile at the sight in front of you.

Eddie stands by the sofa, a rose in his mouth and a cupcake on the table. The room is dark and lit by a few tea candles. He smiles and wiggles his brows, whatever he’s trying to say to you is muffled by the rose.

“What?” You smile.

He chuckles and holds his hand out for you to take. Once you do he pulls you into his body and grins as you take the rose.

“Where’s your shirt?”

He rolls his eyes playfully. “That’s your first question, really?”

You smile. “Well someone could walk in.”

“Thought you liked pda.” He challenges you, pulling you onto his lap on the sofa as you sit on his left thigh.

“I do, but this is our first solo opening.”

“Exactly.” He smiles and hands you the cupcake. “Congratulations baby.”

You take the cupcake from his hand, feeling the warmth of his body beneath you. The dim lighting from the candles casts a soft glow around you both making the moment feel even more intimate.

"Congratulations to you too," you grin before taking a small bite of the cupcake. "Mmm, did you pick these out?"

He smirks, running a hand down your back. "Of course. You like it?”

You smile. “Try for yourself.” You drag your finger in the frosting, spreading a bit onto his nose.

He blinks in surprise before letting out a low chuckle. "Oh you think you're funny huh?"

You giggle, leaning back slightly as he pretends to be offended. "Just wanted to share." You say it in one but Eddie’s no dummy.

He swipes his thumb across his nose, licking the frosting off with a slow smirk. "Cute. But now you owe me."

You raise a brow and before you can react his fingers graze your chin, tilting your face as he kisses you soft and slow at first, then deeper as he tastes the sugar on your lips from his. Your fingers curl against his bare shoulder, the warmth of his skin grounding you in the moment.

When he pulls back his eyes gleam with mischief. "Definitely sweeter that way."

You smile. “Teasing me while were in the middle of our first shift?”

“Teasing? Sweetheart it’s like 8pm, I should at least get ten minutes.”

You play at his curls and kiss him one last time. “I could fire you now.”

He clutches his chest. “Maliciously cruel princess how you break my heart.”

You giggle at his dramatic attitude and tap his chest. “Something I could never do.”

He holds your hand to his chest and speaks softly. “Always knew you’d find a way.”

You speak in a tone to match his own. “Couldn’t have done it without you all.”

His thumb brushes over your knuckles, his smirk softening into something more sincere. "Well i'm not going anywhere so you're stuck with me."

"Good," you murmur, giving his hand before finally pulling away. "Now get back to work before I actually fire you."

He sighs dramatically but stands, stretching before shooting you a wink. "Yes boss."

He pulls on his shirt and heads toward the front, you take a moment to glance around the reality of the night settling in. Your first solo opening. Something you've dreamed of for so long and somehow it feels even better sharing it with him.

With Steve and Jonathan and the girls, for Hopper, for your customers. You saved Empire from hell and woth the help of everyone you did it for including yourself, you knew that everyday would feel like today and even better.

taglist: @pupwrites @sheneedsrocknroll92 @koshkahhh @kthomps914 @definitionwanderlust @veravee-blog @losingmygrasponreality @ironmusictrash @littlemissholy @bastardstevie

author’s note: thank you so much for reading Open Til Midnight. this has been fun to write and i hope its been fun to read. please reblog or share with a friend, zoe ♥️

[slcmml]

teacher! charlie & reader — me + you = ♡

i don’t know who agrees with me on this, but i’ve been onto math teacher! charlie & english teacher! reader since dinosaurs went extinct..

♡ i’m thinking a middle school setting.. eighth grade, perhaps. you’re across the hall from each other, but don’t talk too often. not much apart from the shy waves in the morning and small talk while waiting outside of your classrooms to greet your students.

♡ well, that was until charlie started having computer issues. now, don’t get me wrong, he’s a very intelligent man! but he fucking hates these school issued chromebooks they’ve handed out to students.

♡ he usually assigns most work on paper since it’s math, but the school asked for him to start using ixl or fucking khan academy, i don’t know. something online that students can access in case they lose their papers.

♡ but you? you used chromebooks all the time! you weren’t cruel enough to make your students write their papers by hand!

♡ none of charlie’s students could figure out what was wrong with the chromebooks, and neither could he, so he went across the hall to get some help (all embarrassed too.. so cute).

“hi! sorry to interrupt, but i’m having trouble getting my students chromebooks to work? do you think you could help?”

♡ of course, being a nice person, you invite him into your classroom and happily help the man. you explain to him why it was broken and how to fix it etc (he wasn’t listening btw, was staring at you the entire time, he thinks you’re so beautiful).

♡ and after that interaction, charlie tries to talk to you more. (YOU’RE SOOOOO BEAUTIFUL HE JUST WANTS TO BE AROUND YOU) in the break room, he’ll ask how your classes are going, and at lunch, he’ll stop by to see what you’re doing, and even at the end of the day, he’ll check up on you to make sure you don’t stay at the school too late.

♡ his students do not fail to notice this. in fact, they encourage it. “but mr dalgeish, my chomebook is broken! can you please ask them to fix it? i want to finish my work so i don’t have to do it at home!” how could he turn down an opportunity to see you?

♡ he tells his class to keep a low volume while he leaves the room for a moment, walking over to your classroom with his student’s chromebook before knocking.

“hello. sorry, again, for interrupting. i’m not quite sure what’s wrong with this chromebook… could you help?” “oh, don’t worry about it! of course i’ll help!”

♡ you start to take a liking to mr dalgeish too.. he’s quite cute, isn’t he? :) he seems so nervous to talk to you outside of the routine good mornings, which you adore.

“so, uh, how was your weekend?” “it was nice! i got to relax and not worry about grading, so what more could i ask for?” “haha, yeah, i, uh, i agree!”

♡ your students probably get so sick of you both. smiling at him while he stumbles over his words like an idiot. one of his students probably try to stage a note, but it’s so obvious that it’s from said student LMAO.

‘dear beautiful english teacher please date me - mr d’

♡ you put a note on his desk with the note from the student attached.

‘so mr d, do you know what this is about?’

♡ oh GOD. he’s so embarrassed. he spends THIRTY minutes of class lecturing them on how that was unprofessional and inappropriate.

♡ talks to you at some point during lunch break.

“i’m so sorry about them—they can get really out of hand and they really like to meddle in other people’s business which is an entirely different conversation—” “charlie, it’s fine.” “i-it’s fine? ‘charlie’?” “oh, is that okay? i mean, i thought—” “no, no, no, it’s more than okay. i like it.” JUST KISS ALREADY.

♡ so. much. fucking. tension. YOU’RE BOTH TEETERING ON FRIENDS/MORE THAN FRIENDS AND IT ANNOYS EVERYONE.

♡ i can assure you right now, if you or charlie don’t make a move, your students or even a fucking coworker will do it for you. (enter: teacher! jschlatt and teacher! ted nivison)

© slcmml

[hermesserpent-stuff]

Look. i love creed. but he is messy to write. he never knows what he wants exactly.

logan and him are AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Remy opens the door the the brotherhood house and makes it three steps in before he is tackled to the ground. Remy yelps and is slammed with a wall of aggression, worry and… possessiveness.? Is that even an emotion?? His brain spins as he hears sniffing and growling beside his ear.

Oh.

Sabretooth. Who… apparently doesn't like the smell of Logan. 

“Why do you stink of the runt?”

Sabretooth growls and before Remy can form a reply to the fangs that are near his ears, Logan is growling.

“Maybe because I drove him home, Creed.”

Remy feels anxiety and rage leaking from Logan and his brain feels very assaulted by the large waves of emotions that crash against him. 

“Maybe we all calm down, non?”

Remy tries to get out, squirming a bit. Sabretooth pins him a little more firmly and Remy goes still. He is not wiggling prey. He is not being strapped to a table. He is pinned by Sabretooth, who he sort of knows, and not by mental powers from a vile scientist. He takes a deep shuddering breath while the two ferals keep growling deep. he needs to achieve calm or he's gonna spark again.

Remy begins to hum, long and low. He fills his mind with his brother's singing and piano playing. He lets his body relax, letting go of all his tension. Sabretooth makes a snuffling noise. 

“Sabretooth, I'm fine. I had a bad day at school and Logan found me in the aftermath of my powers gettin’ loose. He brought me home. Don't claw him up for bringin’ me back.”

Remy says carefully and calmly. Sabretooth meets his eyes and sniffs again. Sabretooth slowly shifts back. 

“Fine.”

Remy sits up but stays sitting, looking at Logan. Logan is still tensed, ready to fight.

“Logan, do you gotta be growlin’? You stepped into his territory. Invited by me, mais he wouldn't know that.”

The teen starts swiping at the dirt clinging to his clothing. He feels a flash of confusion from both but they both back down a bit. Remy nods to himself.

“Fine.”

Logan huffs.

“Perfect.”

Remy chirps back and slowly rises up. His back hurts a bit from hitting the ground so hard.

“Did you have to tackle me so hard homme?”

Remy asks, rubbing his back. Sabretooth looks a little contrite in his eyes but gives a huffy snort. 

“Don't come home smelling like an enemy then.”

“Fair enough. You catch anythin’ today?”

Remy starts to walk towards the house. 

Logan interrupts before Sabretooth can speak. 

“Kid… Are you okay? Really?”

Remy scrunches up his nose and turns, one hand on a hip. He can see Logan looking over the old house that is a bit battered. A bit in disrepair. Remy can feel judgment rolling off of Logan. Sabretooth puffs up a bit.

“I'm fine Logan. You don't gotta be askin’ that every time you see me. Im fine. Mon petits are fine. Everythin’ is fine and I need to take a nap.”

He gently puts a hand on Sabretooth’s arm. He hopes the man will not snap at him. Sabretooth shifts a bit so that Remy is now safely behind him. Remy blinks at this. What? 

“Leave runt.”

Logan looks at Sabretooth and steps back just a small bit. Enough to be a concession but not a submission. 

“We need to talk Creed.”

Sabretooth snarls. Remy crosses his arms. 

“I'd rather fight.”

Sabretooth shifts forwards and Remy makes a noise.

“Don't you dare be fightin’ near the house!! We got a hard enough time with accidental powers goin’ off!”

Remy says, letting his irritation be heard loudly. 

“Victor.”

Logan says head bending slightly. 

Sabretooth huffs and bends his head slightly. 

“Fine. We’re just gonna talk, pup. Go inside.”

Sabretooth steps towards Logan and Remy isn't sure what is swirling off of both of them.

“Sabre’ooth?”

He asks, hesitating a little. He is not going to leave the person helping him feed the household alone with a potential enemy. Sabretooth turns his head and chuffs at him. 

“I caught some rabbits and left them in the kitchen. I'll come help you after I talk to Jimmy here.”

Remy slowly nods.

“I'm trustin’ you. Yell if it comes to blows. I’ll fight with you.”

He says, touching Sabretooth’s arm and then walking inside. 

--

Creed is a little pleased with the last thing Remy says and finds himself surprised at that. Huh. Seems like he has a pack now. One of the main reasons for his panic and rage when smelling Logan’s scent mixed with Remy’s was worry that something had happened to the pup that had taken pretty good care of him. Creed finds that he likes being looked after and having someone eat his hunts and appreciate them. And Creed knows that he hates sharing. So Logan daring to be around Creed’s newly forming pack is annoying. 

“What do you want runt?”

He growls. Logan huffs but gestures away from the house.

“Show me your territory boundaries. You are planning to stay long-term, arent you?”

The words are clipped and tense. 

[jjtheresidentbaby]

regressuary day 1: bathing/washing

» for @regressuary & link to bingo card here

» cg!vi & rg!caitlyn & cg!ekko | on my ao3 | wrd count: 2.1k+

» summary: vi finds cait beaten in an alleyway without an explanation as to why and has to care for her, thankfully ekko shows up to help

» tags: arcane agere, set sometime in season 1, hurt/comfort, injuries & blood, other enforcers hurting cait, mentioned undercity & piltover conflict, slight baby talk, nicknames

Vi scoops Caitlyn into her arms carefully, swallowing hard when she hears Cait whine in pain before clinging herself to Vi as tight as she can.

Vi isn’t sure what happened that left Caitlyn in the state she’s in: her enforcer uniform torn, scrapes at her knees, blood on her knuckles, a bruise blooming over her left eye and a split lip on her right. It’s obvious she’s been fighting, Vi just wish she knew who and why.

“Let’s get you home.” She starts the trek from the hidden alleyway towards the Kiramman property but is quickly stopped when Cait lifts her head with a shake.

“Can’t go home.” Caitlyn more mumbles than anything which worries Vi, did she hit her head? Should Vi be taking her to a doctor rather than home for some at-home-patchwork?

“Did you bump your head honey?” Truly Vi doesn’t know why she takes the soft and gentle tone with Cait when nine times out of ten they’re pretty brash with one another, but it seems to help Caitlyn relax a little.

“No jus’ my face got hurt.” Under the streetlights Vi is able to see how nasty the bruise she has really is. It’ll take weeks for that thing to fade and Vi thinks she’ll start to feel her own face ache if she keeps staring.

“Okay, I’ll talk you to my place.” Not that she really wants to take Cait in her enforcer uniform down to the Undercity but she doesn’t see any other option.

-

It’s rough to get to the lanes with Cait cradled in Vi’s arms but she manages somehow and only gets a couple winces from Cait. They haven’t been talking back and forth and that’s worrying Vi so she’s been trying to fill the silence on her own.

“One day I’ll talk you into eating the food down here, it’s better than it looks.” There’s so many people out tonight and every few steps Vi almost knocks into someone. It’s making her buzz with anxious energy.

“Oh and I’ll show you where me and Ekko used to train as kids, you’ll like it there. Would you wanna do that cupcake?” The nickname sounds far too dainty coming from Vi’s mouth right now, Cait nuzzles her face in further to Vi’s neck with a small nod, only making Vi more nervous. Caitlyn has never been this quiet around Vi, even when they were about to talk to the Councilors she was muttering about what to say and what not to.

“Vi?” The redhead stops in her tracks at the voice calling her name from in front of her- as if they just summoned him, it’s Ekko. At least it’s not someone looking to settle a decade old score.

“Hey Ekko.” Protectively Vi tugs Cait closer despite knowing fully well that Ekko is everything but a threat.

“I heard you were walking through the lanes carrying an enforcer around.” Ekko smirks a little as he crosses his arms and Vi falters to reply.

“Who told you that? I haven’t been down here that long.” Anyone could’ve told Ekko and the Undercity moves so quickly it’s really a useless line of questioning.

“When someone has a beaten enforcer held in their arms like a baby, it gets around pretty fast. So, you and Caitlyn get into a fight or something?” A scowl appears on Vi’s face, nearly disgusted by the thought of her doing this to Cait. Ekko just shakes his head at the expression.

“I found her like this, I don’t know what happened.” They start to walk again, Ekko leading Vi towards the path that will bring them to the firelights base, which she’s thankful for. It’ll be safer for Cait to be there than the rickety old apartment Vi’s been staying in.

“You just found her? How did you know she was hurt?”

“I didn’t. I… I was going to see if she’d let me crash for the night but she wasn’t home when I snuck in so I thought she was on patrol for the night and that’s when I found her. Nobody else was around and she hasn’t said anything about what happened.” Part of Vi thinks the other enforcers did this, Cait said she was having problems with a couple of them the last time Vi stayed over. If it’s true, she doubts Cait will want to give them up. That job means so much to her.

“You guys can stay with us tonight. I have a place you can clean her up and patch those wounds.” There’s definitely more Ekko wants to say but he’s holding back, probably because they’re still in public, Vi can’t blame him. She feels unnerved walking around like this even if nobody’s said anything to them or done more than shoot Vi a strange look.

“Thanks Ekko.”

-

The firelights base is just as lively and inviting as the first time Vi came in here: people buzzing around with smiles on their faces, fresh air wafting into Vi’s senses in a much nicer way than the lingering smog in the lanes, and most of all, this bass feels safe. Vi doesn’t see a single weapon around or even an angry face seeing Caitlyn’s enforcer uniform when they pass groups of people.

“I’ll go grab some water, you can untangle her from you.” There’s half a chuckle that Vi rolls her eyes at. Cait still hasn’t moved so much as an inch away from Vi, maybe Ekko’s right about untangling her being its own task.

“Hey cupcake we’re safe in here, you can take a bath and I’ll patch you up.” Gently Vi wraps a hand around the back of Cait’s head, still using the other to hold Cait up.

“Mhm.” Is the muffled reply she gets and Caitlyn’s hands gripping Vi’s jacket harder.

“Is that so? Well Ekko is being very nice by letting us use his bath, don’t you think we should oh I don’t know… actually use it?” Her voice falls to the one she’d pull out when Powder was being fussy about something when they were younger: all soft and playful teasing, nothing harsh that could make the kid feel worse. Which is funny to think about, considering Cait is not a kid and is far from it but- Vi thinks she needs to be babied a little right now.

“Hur’s.” It’s slurred and young sounding, Vi sucks in a breath. She hates seeing Cait like this when she’s usually so strong and put together.

“Oh honey. The bath will help it not hurt, okay? I’ll clean you up nice and good.” It’s not necessarily a lie but Vi isn’t sure if patching Cait’s wounds will cause less pain than what she’s already in. It has to be done though.

“That’s it little one.” Slowly, almost like she’s afraid Vi is going to disappear into thin air if she’s too far away, Caitlyn lets go of her and Vi’s able to sit her up on a chair next to the unfilled bath.

Cait looks even smaller than before. Her arms are tucked into her chest instantly, big doe eyes staring up at Vi in waiting with a wet blink, shoulders hunched together, and Vi swears there’s even a pout in her bottom lip. It makes Vi want to pull her right back up to her chest and apologize for ever putting her down until she’s blue in the face.

“Hey you got her down.” Thankfully Ekko comes back into the room with buckets of water before Vi can act on gut instinct alone and have to start the process of getting Cait to let go of her all over again.

“That should warm up quickly.” Ekko kneels on the floor for a minute, flipping a switch so some type of heating system beneath the tub starts up. Vi makes a mental note to ask how he came up with that later on.

“Stay.” Before Ekko can walk past the girls and leave them alone, Cait reaches a hand out to stop his wrist.

The room pauses for a beat until Caitlyn’s face falls and she instantly reels her hand back as if it’s been burned. Her cheeks flush in embarrassment but Ekko only smiles softly, kneeling beside the chair and taking Cait’s trembling hand into his own.

“That’s alright princess, I can stay.” He assures and gives a kiss to the top of Cait’s hand. Vi feels something like happiness swell in her chest seeing the only family she’s really got interacting in good faith. With how Cait and Powder interacted before… she’s more than grateful Ekko is being kind to Caitlyn even under the circumstances.

-

“Do you think you can talk blue?” Ekko is busy distracting Cait where she sits in the tub while Vi tends to the wound on the back of her shoulders. Vi can’t tell what the slice is from or how Caitlyn hasn’t been crying in pain from it. It’s long and thick, maybe a sword? But it’s not deep enough to hit anything major but still has crimson blood dribbling down it slowly.

“I can talk, m’big.” A short laugh comes from Ekko and he reaches to brush some hair off Cait’s face. Him and Vi had a quick conversation as Cait undressed about Caitlyn possibly being in a younger headspace than normal, Vi is only starting to believe Ekko’s theory more and more.

“That’s good. Do you know who did this to you?” A small whimper comes from Cait’s chest, Vi isn’t sure if it’s because she’s pressing antiseptic to her wound or because of Ekko’s question.

“It’s alright sweetheart, I’m almost done.” She murmurs just incase it is the pain causing Cait to shrink in on herself.

“And we won’t tell anyone you don’t want us to if you tell us who hurt you.” Ekko glances behind Cait’s shoulder to share a stern look with Vi- no they won’t tell anyone about who hurt Caitlyn, they won’t need to, they’ll be able to handle whoever it is on their own.

“Was the other enforcers.” ‘Enforcers’ comes out in a mumbled lisp with a sniffle that only makes the rage that quickly starts to simmer in Vi burn hotter.

“They don’t like me ‘cause I’m not like them.” From the angle Vi is leaning over the tub at, she can see how Ekko rubs his thumb at Cait’s cheek while simultaneously clenching his jaw so hard Vi can almost hear them grinding together.

“What do you mean you’re not like them?” Cait shrugs and looks away from Ekko, hands moving the water around her anxiously. She hesitates for a moment before going to speak again.

“I like you guys. I care bout you.” They don’t like her because she’s friends with people from the Undercity, because she actually gives a damn about what happens down here.

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of, and you don’t deserve to get hurt for it. I’m sorry that they did that.” Vi leans herself to press her cheek to the top of Caitlyn’s shoulder where the cut doesn’t reach, Cait easily drops her head atop Vi’s, getting Vi’s hair and face wet in the process but it doesn’t matter.

“Do you know their names?” The gears turning in Ekko’s head are practically as audible as his teeth grinding, Vi can’t wait to hear what he’s planning to do to those bastards.

“Mhm. Uh Johnny, Charlotte and um.. Triv? I don’t know them very well. I fought back but..” She trails off and lifts her hands out of the water, her busted knuckles still red with the dried blood that hasn’t fully washed away.

“You did amazing baby, you did everything you could outnumbered like that.” Vi shifts to press a quick kiss to Cait’s damp skin. She really is proud of Cait for fighting back against the other enforcers, she knows it couldn’t have been easy.

“I stay the night?” One of Caitlyn’s hands reaches to rub clumsily at her eyes before she yawns all small and childish.

“Of course you can. I’ll go get some clothes for you and Vi can dry you off.” Ekko stands and grabs a towel to hand Vi before disappearing out of the room.

Vi almost expects Ekko to go off right then and there and track those enforcers down to get them back for hurting Cait but he comes back quickly with some clothes and blankets. It’s not til Cait is asleep and Professor Heimerdinger is sat by her bed that Ekko and Vi go up to Piltover to defend Caitlyn. They return out of breath and a little bruised up but before Cait wakes up. The three of them spend the rest of the night snuggled up together and safe.

[1-800-adore-me]

| "Did I do good, honey?"

🍎 nsfw warning (18+) + tags: baby fever Caleb, dirty talk, inappropriate usage of evol abilities, edging (Caleb to you), fingering, cunninglingus, praise kink, pet names (pipsqueak, princess, baby girl, sweetheart, honey…), squirting, biting, grinding  ( porn without plot | words: around 3.9k ) (AN: caleb would totally be into the fantasy of breeding you and having loving baby making sex. unfortunately no breeding for this fic but hopefully for the next one <3 caleb is just having his boydinner)

After Caleb finally confirmed his availability to hang out with you for the day, you decided that you wanted to try out a cafe with him. You told him that Tara mentioned it having the “most tastiest” lattes that Linkon had to offer and the pastries were to die for. Considering how excited you looked when you were telling him this, how could he ever say no to those giant puppy eyes of yours? 

When you both arrived at the cafe, it was bustling with business. There was a line of people waiting outside of the cafe and there was a sense of apprehension coming from you. Are we going to wait forever? Should we just head back? I don’t want Caleb to feel like he’s wasting time waiting with me here…

As if he could sense your apprehension, Caleb patted your head with that soft smile that you were oh so familiar with. “It seems busy but hey, I wouldn’t mind waiting in line so long as this pipsqueak here can.” He’d chuckle, a delicate sound that was sent straight to your heart. “Don’t tell me that you’re so hungry that you can’t wait in line, hm?”

You frowned and playfully hit his arm. “As if! Come on, let’s hurry up before more people crowd up and take our spots then!” 

Even though you were smaller than him, the amount of strength that you had when you grabbed his hand and dragged him to the line was akin to a thousand men. He let out an amused chuckle as he allowed you to do so, taking in any opportunity to feel your skin on his. The way your fingers locked perfectly with his made his heart flutter as it made him think back to the olden days where you were so clingy and needy for him to the point where you begged him to take you everywhere he went. 

After waiting in line for what felt like hours, the both of you finally arrived inside the cafe. It had an inviting and warm atmosphere that quickly dissolved any sense of frustration building up inside of you. Once it was finally Caleb’s and your turn to order, you both decided on 2 slices of apple pie and 2 lattes. After the both of you had gotten your orders, you decided to head out. The inside of the cafe, although it looked cozy and sweet to relax in, was beginning to feel cramped with the amount of people endlessly pouring in. The original plan included the both of you spending the afternoon there but considering that it was only going to get busier, perhaps it wouldn’t be a good idea to linger long. After a quick discussion, it was a better idea to just head back home for the day and watch movies as you enjoy your treats. Although it sounded mundane, today felt like a good day to be lazy. 

Suddenly, a young girl grabbed the hem of your skirt. You looked down at her with a confused expression on your face, yet you held a warm smile towards her. Caleb stopped in his tracks, offering the small girl the same expression as well. 

“Hello there, little one! Did you need something from me?” You say, now turning around to fully face her as you crouched down to her height. Her warm brown eyes observed your face for a moment, her fingers twiddling with each other. She seemed quite shy. 

She hesitated before she spoke. “Miss… What do you have there? I saw that you ordered something that looked yummy but I don’t know what it is. Can you tell me?” Her eyes averted from yours for a moment before focusing them on you again as she pointed at the bag held in Caleb’s hand. 

You let out a soft chuckle, as if her question was something peculiar. All of this nervousness to ask you what kind of goodies you bought? You patted her head as if to reassure her that she could relax around you. By magic, you could feel her shoulders relaxing. 

“Well, why don’t I show you instead?” You say as you rummaged through the paper bag that Caleb was holding in his hand and showed her a box of 1 apple slice inside. “It’s an apple pie! This kind mister and I used to eat a lot of these when we were little like you and we heard that this cafe makes really good pies!” You handed it to her as she hesitantly accepted it - although confusion was written on her face. “Why don’t you have my slice then? We bought 2 so I can always share the other slice with him!”

The young girl’s eyes suddenly widened as her expression brightened up. She looked down at the box you just gave her and let out an adorable chuckle. “Are you sure, miss? I don’t want to take away your food!”

You furiously shook your head as you quickly got up. “Don’t fret about it! Like I said, I can just share with this mister right here!” You tapped Caleb’s chest, earning yourself a soft laughter from him. “You wouldn’t mind at all, right?” He looks at her and smiles, nodding. 

“You heard her! Don’t worry about us, little missy!” He’d pat her head as well before looking at you. “Should we head on then? I don’t want our pie to get cold if we take too long to go back home.” Although there was his usual gentleness in his tone, there was something off - as if he was in a rush. You raised an eyebrow at him but thought nothing of it. You were also anticipating spending the day with him after all. Perhaps he felt the same way. 

Both of you waved at the younger girl as you walked away. She shouted an adorable ‘Thank you!’ before she scurried away to find her parents. Caleb’s eyes lingered on the both of you for a moment before returning his attention on you. But something was different about his expression. He looked like he was distracted by something. You snapped your fingers in front of him in order to catch his attention. 

“Are you okay, Caleb? Distracted by something?” You said, giving him a teasing smile. “Don’t tell me that you’re upset that you have to share with me. If you really want to, we can head back to the cafe and wait another 200 years so you don’t get grumpy!” 

He laughed - his familiar, comforting gaze now on you. “Oh, pipsqueak. If we waited any longer in there, I might’ve had to hold you back from stealing the pastries and running off! Trust me, I don’t mind sharing with you at all. After all, didn’t I use to share all of my pie slices with you when we were younger? Gran would scold me all the time, saying that I shouldn’t give you everything I had!”

The two of you exchanged comforting nostalgic memories as you continued your way back home. Yet, you would notice that there was still a distracted expression on his face. Did I say something wrong? Did I upset him? You decided that you would ask him about it later. Right now, you just enjoyed the playful dynamic that you had going on with him. 

When the both of you finally reached home, he set the bag down on the table as you grabbed the blankets and pillows needed for the evening’s session. After you both changed into your comfortable homebody outfits, you snuggled against his broad chest as he put an arm around you. The television was playing some romcom movie that you two thought sounded interesting - although, your attention was directed towards something else other than the screen. 

“Caleb?” You gently called his attention. His eyes immediately turned from the screen to you. 

“Hm? What is it, pipsqueak?” He replied in a gentle tone, matching yours. 

“What’s been bothering you?” Your eyebrows lightly knitted together. “Ever since the cafe, you seem… distracted. Did something happen?” You put a hand on his cheek and he laid his own hand on yours, deepening the skinship. He turned his face into your hand and smiled into it, laying a brief kiss on you. 

He gave a small hum. “I had an interesting thought, that’s all.” His tone was more playful now as he couldn’t help holding back that teasing grin he always had. 

You let out a groan, although it was a much more exaggerated one. “Tell me now! What is it that’s bothering you? Is it something that I can help with?” 

His eyes slightly averted from yours for a moment before focusing his gaze on your body - then onto your eyes again. Something changed in his eyes - something more akin to hunger. He laid another kiss on your fingers, then onto the back of your hand. 

“You were being so kind to that little girl… You’re so gentle when you talk to kids. Makes me want to give you one.” He whispered ever so gently as he snaked his hand underneath the blankets and laid it on your stomach. He rubbed tiny circles around as he laughed. 

“You would be good, wouldn’t you? I think about it sometimes… Me coming home to a tiny little you running around the house, causing a ruckus as we all laugh together.” His face inched closer to yours and that’s when you realized how hot your cheeks felt at the implications he was getting at. His beautiful, gorgeous eyes were intense to look into and you looked away for a moment, feeling like you would get lost in them if you stared for too long. 

He didn’t stop talking. He continued with that low, husky voice of his now as his hands began travelling lower. “Wouldn’t you agree? Wouldn’t you like being pregnant with my baby? I’ll give you one, yeah? I know that you get lonely sometimes when I’m off on a mission so… I’ll give you a baby, hm? How does that sound, honey?” The only reason why he stopped talking was because his lips were busy on your neck, kissing and suckling on your soft skin. You let out a soft moan as you tilted your neck, granting him more access to it. 

“Remember when we were kids and you said you wanted a big family when you grew up? 4 or more kids so they could all be friends with each other?” He was now licking your collarbones as he watched colorful bruises start to form on your skin. “You still want 4 babies, hm? I can give them to you if you’d like, yeah?”

Caleb’s naughty hands now dug past the hem of your shorts and his long, rugged fingers began rubbing your entrance through your panties. You could already feel yourself getting damp from the quick contact of his digits. Then he began rubbing your already hard clit with his thumb. Your clit, in response, was pulsing against his large digit. 

“C-Caleb…! Aaah…!” You let out a breathy sigh. You grabbed his face and began kissing him now - locking your mouths together as you allowed your tongue to explore his. There was a sweet and bitter taste in his mouth as he had just recently drank his latte while the both of you were watching the movie. With his other hand that wasn’t busy pleasing you, he put it behind your head to deepen your kiss. Obscene noises of wet moans filled the room and it was the only thing that you could hear in your ears. Whatever was playing on the screen now was just background noises that you couldn’t even bother giving your attention to anymore. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to feel everything that was happening. 

Your panties were getting damper and damper by the second, the fabric getting thinner and transparent now because of your slick. His gentle touches in contrast to how ferociously he was making out with you sent butterflies in your stomach. You couldn’t hold back a moan into his mouth, which made him grin. 

“Caleb, please…! Touch me more!” You begged him as you broke away from his lips. A thin strand of saliva was the only connection from your separation and you held back the urge to lick your lips - lest you’d lose the only thing keeping you both together. His lips were wet and bruised and so were yours. You took off your panties, discarding them somewhere in the room. “Put your fingers inside, please! I need you right now, I need you so much!” 

His breath hitched. His eyes were looking everywhere at you now, drinking in your desperation. Then, he chuckled - a sound that was rich and deep. “But should I?” He said, now taking away his hand from your wet and aching sex. “What if I don’t, hm? I’m the only one who can satisfy you, my love.” He licked one of his fingers that was covered in your slick. “And if I can’t satisfy you… are you going to cry? I can just leave you like this and walk away.” He’d chuckle. 

As if he said something offensive, you jumped onto his lap and began grinding on his propped up knee. You didn’t care if your wet slick dirtied his pants, you needed to relieve your throbbing or else you’d go insane. When you soon realized that it wasn’t enough, you forcefully grabbed the hand that was pleasuring you and moved it back to your cunt. Then, you began grinding on it as well. The soft flesh of his hands felt better than his pants, you believe. 

“Can’t you see how much I need you, Caleb?” You pleaded as you tried to entice something out of him with your pathetic cries.. “I’ve… I’ve always needed you. I need you in my life, Caleb. You’re the only one who can satisfy me. Please? Please?” You now leaned forward and began kissing his neck, mimicking what he did to you earlier. He let out a satisfied sigh as he tilted his neck, which you began nipping and suckling at. The wet sounds of your kisses and his pleased sighs made your head swirl. 

“When did you learn how to get so naughty, hm? Was it because of me?” Just when you thought your pleas fell on deaf ears, you felt one of his fingers enter you. You were so wet that his fingers could easily allow themselves in without resistance. You let out a breathy moan next to his ear as you felt another finger slip itself in. 

As his fingers fucked you, his other hand started to rub your clit as well. Overwhelmed by the stimulation of having both your hole and your bundle of nerves being pleasured, your hips began trying to move away. But just when you tried to move around, the gravity around you forced you to keep still. 

- Caleb’s evol, you quickly realized. 

You let out a frustrated and quiet sob as you were now being tortured with how good it felt. It was overwhelming, painful, and oh so good at the same time. Tears began falling from your eyes as the only thing you could do was continue holding onto him and moan pitifully into his ear. You could feel more slick travel down your thighs as he continued ravishing you with no hint of stopping. He licked your tears away and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, cooing you as he slipped in a third finger. Even though you were dripping with wet slick, the intrusion of a third finger began feeling like it was too much. You let out a choked moan as you wept. 

“N-No more, Caleb. It’s too much- I’m too full…!” You pleaded. 

He gently shushed you as he nibbled on your ear. “You’re doing so good for me, honey. You’re taking my fingers so well. Do you like them that much, princess? You like it when I fuck you so hard that you can do nothing but cry?” You hear him chuckle as he holds you closer to him. “You were always a crybaby, my love. I wonder if our baby will be a crybaby like you too?” 

The image of you being big and round with his child was enough to send you over the moon. You could feel your thighs shaking as you prepared to release yourself onto his hands. You could feel the buildup of your climax getting bigger in your abdomen and just when you could feel yourself cum, you couldn’t. 

Because he took his hands away. 

“Ah- wha-!” You cried out as your climax was disturbed. Your frustrated and aching cunt throbbed at the absence of his long fingers. Caleb released his evol and you collapsed onto him, your knees weak from the sudden introduction of gravity again. He held you tightly against his chest as he laid another kiss on your forehead. Then, he set you down on the sofa with you laying down on your back. Dazed and frustrated from your lack of climax, you allowed him to move you however he’d like. You were suddenly aware of how huge and wide his sofa was.

Caleb looked at you with an innocent smile on his face. “I suddenly had a thought that maybe I was being too mean to you if I just made you cum on my fingers. I mean, wouldn’t you much rather prefer to cum in my mouth instead, honey?” 

He spread your legs open with his hands, revealing the tasteful fruit that he couldn’t wait to consume. He went down to your cunt, smelling the musky aromatic smell as he observed your abused pussy. Your poor, swelled up clit was throbbing at how close his breath felt and your entrance that was soaked in your mouth-watering slick was shining beautifully from the sunlight cascading on you from the window. Caleb rubbed your thigh as he began kissing your inner thighs, each sensation sending electric shocks to you. You couldn’t hold back the quiet whimpers escaping from your lips. 

Then, he bit down on the flesh. You let out a loud moan, your hands clutching the blankets that you were laid on. You could feel him suckling on the abused skin now as he tried to deepen the mark, before moving away from it. Then, he repeated the same thing to your other inner thigh. Your clit and pussy throbbed from the painful sensation yet you could feel yourself leaking more juices. You cried out again and began thrusting your hips upwards. 

“Aaanh…Ah- Ah…! Caleb…!” You whined. “Hurry up already!”

He kissed your thighs. “Getting impatient, are we? How come you could handle waiting what felt like forever in line for the cafe but you can’t even be patient with me right now?” His stupid playful tone made you want to punch him. You let out a sound of frustration before gasping as you felt him lick your clit. 

Soon, he began suckling on the small bud of nerves as he began fingering you again with two this time to start. - ‘You can handle two this time, right? You’re always so eager to take my fingers, baby. I’ll treat you good, yeah. You’re getting my fingers so fucking wet, honey.’ You opened your legs wider, allowing him full access to your cunt. Your head was thrown back as you felt his fingers curve upwards, stimulating your sensitive spot. It was scary at this point how well he knew how to break you with just a few fingers. You were being unravelled by him and he continued to consume every fiber of your being without hesitation. It also didn’t help how Caleb’s eyes never left yours as he drank up every face of pleasure you made. You averted your eyes a few times before succumbing to looking into his eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in those beautiful violets and your own numbing pleasure. 

The wet sounds of his fingers fucking your tender hole was loud, as well as his moans enjoying his dinner. - ‘Princess, you taste so good… Mmm, could eat you for hours, honey. You’re being so good to me, baby.’ Your hole and your clit were never left alone as they were always receiving attention from Caleb. When he moved his mouth to your entrance and allowed his tongue to explore your soft insides, drinking up any slick that dared to leave your sobbing cunt, his fingers worked their magic in playing with your clit. And if he was attacking your clit with his soft tongue, his fingers would relentlessly fill you up. 

You could feel yourself getting closer by the second. You tried to not let it show on your face but the man who was giving you the world was Caleb - the person who always knew what you were feeling. The embarrassing sounds that you were making also became louder and more erotic, as well as how your legs were shaking - signalling how close your climax was coming. 

“Oouhh..! A-Ahhn..! C-Caleb! I’m gonna cum! Caleb, Caleb…!” You started chanting his name as if it was the only thing tying you down to staying conscious. He quickly grabbed one of your hands with his as he continued to eat you out, moaning into your cunt as he did so. - “Cum for me, baby. Give it all to me, sweetie. Give me all of you.” As you were riding out your orgasm, you tightly held onto his hand as he suckled your swollen clit and lapped up your pussy like a starved man. You began squirting, getting it all over his face and the sofa underneath you. Caleb watched you orgasm as he drank everything you - oh so graciously - offered him. After your climax, you whimpered as you felt him cleaning you up with his tongue - he licked your thighs and your swollen pussy, trying his best to get every nook and cranny that was still blessed with your juices. 

Feeling worn out from your intense orgasm, the only thing you could do was lay down and look up at the ceiling. Hell, even trying to look at Caleb was too much work. After he was done cleaning you up, he laid down next to you and snuggled with you as if nothing happened. 

“I’ll run a bath for you in a little bit, princess. But I want to cuddle first. I missed you, honey.” He said as he nuzzled his cheek against yours. You let out an exhausted sigh and gave him a peck on the forehead as you ran your hand through his soft brown locks. “Did I do good, honey? Did you feel good?” 

You chuckled. “What do you think? You could’ve done better.” You joked as you rolled your eyes. He was quiet for a moment before leaning into your ear, his breath feeling hot against it. 

“You think so? Want me to make you feel better right now then?” He said, then kissed  the shell of your ear. 

Your cheeks flushed a bright pink. You playfully pushed his face away. “I was just joking! I can’t even move right now, Caleb!” “So, you do admit that I made you feel good.” He chuckled as he pinched your nose. You scrunch your nose as you roll your eyes again, nodding. 

“I guess. Now carry me to the bathroom and put me in the tub, handsome.” 

When Caleb effortlessly lifted you up bridal style, he gently laid you in the tub after he removed all of your clothes and turned on the water. He hummed to himself as he ran his hand through the water, making sure that the temperature was just right for you. He had an obvious and huge tent in his pants, along with the wet spot from your leaky cunt from earlier as well at the top of his pants. You lick your lips as your mouth watered at the idea of taking him whole. 

You grab his arm and pull him down to your height. “Since you treated me well, how about I return the favor?” You whispered in his ear. 

He looked at you for a moment before grinning as he started to take off his clothes. “If  you’re offering, who am I to reject then, my love?”

[cweeming]

⠀⠀⠀ ࣪⠀⠀𓏵⠀⠀ ׅ　 7592 (𝑗𝑢𝑚𝑝𝑠𝑡𝑦𝑙𝑒 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡). ⠀⠀ྀི

⠀⠀⠀⠀♰⠀ 𓈒 ⠀𝑚𝑢𝑠𝑖𝑐 (🇧🇦/𝑓𝑜𝑙𝑘 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡).⠀ ﾉ⠀𝑡𝑥𝑡 (🇯🇵 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡). ✙

it were the afternoon, you and Logan hanging out. he had a mission to look out for, while you were kicking back and relaxing.

you sat on the couch, phone in hand. there wear earphones in your ears, and the music were turned up so you couldn't hear anything. Logan stood infront of the mirror on the wall a few feet away, back turned to you. he were grooming himself, making sure his kitty ears were in tact. he couldn't help but slow down when he began to hear the music coming from your phone. this again. his eyes narrowed, as he caught a glimpse of your sitting form in the mirror. he's told you countless times not to turn up the volume too loud, how you'd go deaf. but, you never learned.

"that oughta give you a headache." he called out, continuing to groom himself. fully expecting a response, not knowing you couldn't hear him. after none came, he stopped and called out to you again. maybe you were ignoring him, not wanting to listen to 'ole Logan and his old wives tales. "I ain't saying you can't do what you're doing, but I also ain't denying there'll be consequences in store for you." again, no response. he turned around in your direction to look at you, seeing you on your phone. what could possibly be preventing you from answering him?

you'd have the scare of your life when Logan suddenly towered over you. "Logan!" you nearly shrieked, throwing your phone and hitting him square in the face. "you- you're going to give me a damn heart attack." he chuckled, you pulling your earphones out of your ears and tossing them aside. "well, princess. being distracted doesn't exactly help prevent that from happening."

he stood up and grabbed your phone that landed beside you on the couch. "called out to you twice, and you ain't responded once. there ain't nothin' important on this phone to prevent you from talking." then, he smirked. "I don't suppose, you're crushing on the latest celebrity?"

you didn't exactly calm down, a small blush appearing on your cheeks while you shook lightly. "I'm just teasin'," he'd speak before you had the chance to answer, reaching out and ruffling your hair.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀── ⟢ ・⸝⸝

a few minutes go by. Logan's sitting next to you, scrolling thru your phone. "so... I noticed you had your earphones on you." he glanced at you sideways. "mind telling me what's going on there?"

you shifted uncomfortably. you didn't like being confronted, especially when it came to your secret interests. "uh... nothing." you shifted a bit to the side, turning away from him. "it's nothing."

it seemed as though you were preparing to leave. so, he grabbed ahold of you.

"nothin' ain't cuttin' it, princess." he sneered, the smugness present in his tone. ugh. it were hard putting up with him sometimes. you released a sigh, plopping back onto the couch like jello.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀...

as he continued to browse thru your phone, he managed to come across a music app. you waited patiently to have your phone returned, arms crossed over your chest.

"chizutorimack?.." he had a good look at the name, as well as the icon itself. you thought nothing of it, paying him no attention.

until you heard the app open, a soft chime coming to life. your eyes widened, head slowly turning in his direction. you knew right then and there, you couldn't let this man proceed.

"give me back my phone!" with a now demanding tone, you attempted to wrestle the phone out of his hands, failing miserably as he managed to block your small form. you sat back, crossing your arms over your chest as you stared at him like a hawk.

"easy now, princess." his eyes remained glued to your phone screen, beginning to read off what he saw in the app. "7592, music, txt... heh. well, I never took my princess for a music enthusiast." he looked over at you, a small smile playing on his lips. you released an annoyed breath, hair getting into your eyes. atleast you could lie more thoroughly with an attitude.

"firstly," you began, tucking the hair behind your ear. "you really need to keep your claws off what's not yours." you swatted at your phone to get it back, but he simply smiled, raising his arm higher into the air. how he loved to tease you. "and second, it's not a music app. I. . . that's just where I get my inspiration from. for every day life."

he saw right thru your bullshit. "I think I could take you up on that offer, princess." he reached over for the earphones that were still plugged into the phone. "you let old Logan here get a taste of what the common folk listen to, and I'll return your phone. how does that sound?"

terrible. your heart began to pick up. the judgement is going to be absolutely unreal. "u-uhm, actually... there's swearing. and themes of sex and violence."

he simply fanned his hand at you. he's well over 200 years old, and has definitely seen a lot worse. "y' know, I do need to brush up on my own collection. after all, a mutant needs to keep himself busy when he's not always around the house." he put in one earpod, before doing the same with the other. "go on, princess. what album do you recommend I listen to, first?"

you hesitated. usually, you'd keep these things to yourself, locked away from the world. but, with Logan... there were never a day where he seemed uncurious. so, you chose your favorite playlist that you created, albeit in a very shy manner.

"u-um... try the 7592 playlist."

in the end, he loved it. the other 2 playlists, including. so much so, he constantly kept your phone on him days at a time so he could keep himself in the mood. maybe it's time to put a passcode on the lockscreen?

[smgsyndicate]

Some Things Lost

Rain Ghoul Centric Amnesia Fic

Featuring Poly Ghouls Omega, Aether, Dewdrop, Mountain, and Rain

Before Phantom era

Small warnings for medical talk + amnesia + GAYYY + mentions an IV like . Once lmao

Idk if I want to finish this but if you wanna see more let me know :)

It's eyes opened in a flash, pupils dilating to accommodate the blinding white of the walls surrounding it. It - .. no, he couldn't stop a hiss of pain from slipping through his teeth, arms weak and shaking as they struggle to support his weight as he sits up. Cerulean eyes squeeze shut, trying to block out the light and the mounting headache seemingly caused by them.

"No- no- hey, slow down there. You're going to hurt yourself more." A soothing voice to his right said. The eyes opened again, body relaxing once they took in the space that's now dimly lit. He looked over to who was speaking, a tall and built quintessence ghoul, worriedly looking at him as if he would fade away in a moments notice. The being tilted his head, not sure what's quite going on. Unintelligently, he mumbles a small pained, "ow.."

The quint tries to fight down a chuckle but ultimately fails, a small but genuine smile gracing his features. It thinks the ghoul's smile is pretty. It suits him. He blinks, focusing back in as the bigger ghoul... Is he a ghoul too? Is he even a he? .. They blink . Again . Eyes focusing once again on the quint. "Rain, come on... That's it, there you go. Stay present. Stay here with me, okay?"

It lets out a small sound of confusion, head tilting. "Rain? It's raining? .. I like the rain I think ... But I'm definitely not moving. My head hurts." They mumble, hand moving to try and touch their head. The ghoul looks more worried than before, gently catching his hand and moving it away from his head. "No- no Rain, you can't touch that. Your bandages need to stay on for at least another day... Do you know who I am?"

'Rain' takes the moment to really study the other's features. A strong and large build, but not particularly muscular. Something tells him the other is very comfortable to lay on and is a great source of warmth, but when he tries to chase the train of thought, he winces in pain as his headache stabs back in defiance. A name draws blank in his mind, nothing familiar.

It slowly shakes it's head no, looking down in shame. It's eyes widen at the sight of plain white sheets and something sticking out of its arm. The smell of chemical is more distinct and it can identify the annoying insistent beeping of some machine. They look at there arm, seeing it connected through an IV to some sort of fluid.

The IV starts to feel itchy, so they try and pull it out only for the quintessence ghoul to stop them with a panicked noise. "Okay ... I think you have some sort of amnesia... But it's hard to tell what kind at this very moment, so I .." He frowns, sighing with an emotional shake in his voice. "We're going to take care of you Rain. We will help you relearn and hopefully get your memories back. You ... You were in a bad accident, but you're going to be okay. It's.. it's going to be okay."

They feel bad, a hesitant and remorseful expression on their face as if they want to ask a question. The other ghoul fights back their own emotions, trying to appear put together. "What do you want to ask?" It feels something on their head lower in embarrassment and they meekly ask, "Am.. I Rain?"

If it thought things couldn't feel worse, it was just proven wrong. The heart shattering expression on the other's face made it backpedal on its words. "Oh- I uhm. I was just joking! I ..." They fumbled over their words, trying to figure out how to make it better. The quint just took their hands in his, shaking his head silently to request them to stop speaking. "No, it's okay. You don't need to lie. If anything, I need you to tell the truth. .. Let's do quick introductions then, how about that?"

It nodded, hoping this ghoul could explain more about what's happening and why they're in the infirmary wing instead of their room. They hiss, trying to grip at their head as a stabbing pain starts up again. How did they know this was an infirmary and not a hospital? They have a room here? The quintessence ghoul quickly moves their hand away from their head, making gentle shushing sounds and soothing coos.

"Shh.. hey... It's okay.. it's okay... Don't try and force yourself to remember... It'll make it worse.." The other says apologetically. It makes their head hurt more. Why is he sorry? "Alright, I'll go first. My name is Aether, and I'm a quintessence ghoul. We are in a band together, which I play rhythm guitar for. I like the colour purple and astronomy. Your turn, if you're comfortable?" The ghoul nods slightly, 'Aether's' encouraging and hopeful tone spurring them on.

"My name is .. Rain ... And I . I'm in a band. I like the colour azure.. and ... My favourite song is Con Clavi?" Rain says with hesitation. Aether's proud and happy smile makes his tail wag, glad to know that he made the other happy. "Yes! Good job, Rain! You're also a water ghoul and you also play bass! Does that sound familiar?" The bigger ghoul's tail wags a bit as well, the basic memory inclining that it's not all memories, just sporadically missing pieces.

Rain shrugs with a small nod. "I guess? I don't know.." He mumbles self consciously, hands finding their way to the thin white sheets and rubbing them between his fingers anxiously. Aether's eyes soften when he catches the movement, tone gentler than before when he speaks. "It's alright. We will help you. It's going to be alright."

The whole situation feels like reliving a memory for Aether, having been the main one to guide Rain through the confusing life on Earth after his initial summoning. He sees himself and his role in the pack as a protector and a caretaker, happy to be that for his fellow ghouls that he loves and cares for so much. Right now, he sees that timid but oh so fierce water ghoul that once stood trembling but claws readied in middle of the summoning circle.

He struggles to see the confident but subdued personality he's come to grow used to as Rain got more comfortable being in this strange moral realm. Still, Aether manages a smile. "I'll leave you to rest then, but I'll be nearby. Call me, or press that button if you need anything, alright?" Rain looks thoughtful before nodding, honestly just thankful to have a moment to himself to try and process everything he's just been told.

As Aether goes to move away he hesitates before pushing a stray hair from Rain's bangs out of his face, kissing him lightly on the temple before stepping away with a longing and sorrowful expression. He exits the room, closing the door and pausing there before his breathing hitches and the first wave of tears roll down his cheeks.

The quintessence ghoul wipes them away with his arm angrily, upset at himself for mourning someone who can still be saved. Rain's not... Gone.. He's just... ... Aether's breathing stutters and he lets his weight rest against the door, slowly sliding to the floor with silent sobs. His water ghoul is still there, he just has to help him remember... But it's so.. painful watching someone revert to a husk of their former self.

Omega, one of the older quintessence ghouls in the ministry, was doing his rounds in the infirmary. He had heard about the situation with Rain and his injuries but hadn't learned the full extent. He went to check up on the newest water ghoul, eyes widening in alarm upon finding the crying quint. He rushes over, dropping to his knees next to Aether, quickly wrapping the smaller ghoul in a hug.

The position was awkward and definitely not super comfortable, but it was comforting and that's enough. Aether's silent cries became ugly sobs, crying into his mentor's chest while Omega tried to calm him down, running his fingers through his hair and lacing his touch with quintessence.

The ex-guitarist's mind raced with probabilities and statistics. The damage couldn't have been so severe as to kill Rain, could it? But the normally put-together quint in his arms suggested otherwise. "What's going on, nova?" He asked softly, knowing he needed the space to vent. Aether finally seemed to catch his breath, sniffling and using the heel of his palm to wipe the tears from his eyes.

New ones grew back in the old one's place, but he didn't seem to care. "Not... Not here." He whispered, voice breaking with the flood of emotions. Omega just nodded gently, helping the other to his feet. The rhythm ghouls make their way to the small office tucked away in the corner of the infirmary wing.

Aether lets himself fall into the chair, fighting back the tears again so he can explain to Omega what's going on. He takes a deep breath and steels himself, preparing to elaborate. "As you may know, better than anyone, some people in the clergy weren't so happy with Copia becoming Papa..." Omega winces, lips twitching into a frown as he remembers the gruesome dethroning of his Papa.

Aether brushes his tail against Omega's leg apologetically, a silent understanding lingering between them for a few moments. "There was a ... A trap. Set up for Copia. But Rain..." Aether closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the chair, hands gripping the arm rests as he tries to think of his next words. "Rain took the hit instead." He lets out a breath, a small whine slipping out alongside it. "No one knows if it was on purpose or not. He's, thankfully, going to be okay but.. his memory is all messed up and now there's a whole investigation going on, trying to figure out who's trying to hurt Papa and-"

Omega cuts him off with a hug, one that Aether easily leans into. His shoulders shake with the weight of his cries as he lets Omega comfort him again in such a short amount of time. "I'm sorry-" The older quint cuts him off quickly.

"Don't be. You have nothing to apologize for. Grieving for what you've lost does not make you weak, as long as you remember to cherish what you currently have. Dead flowers cause the moon to weep, but it's the new rain mixed with the compost that allows the new flora to flourish, in turn feeding the fauna. Everything will work out just fine, starlight."

Aether can't fight a smile from forming on his face, a wet laugh leaving him. "Where did all that just come from?" Omega stammers for a moment, flustered a bit but laughin along with him. "I thought it was a good metaphor! I thought I did great!" He says defensively, but his tone is so light and the large smile tells Aether he wasn't actually offended.

"It was. You did great, Megs." Aether says genuinely, vulnerability slipping into his tone as the laughter subsides. Aether gently holds Omega's face in his hands, gently pulling him closer for a quick kiss. "Thank you... I needed to hear that I think." Omega flushes, always shy under affection. "Uh.. yeah... No problem..."

The shy behaviour from his mentor is enough to lift the rhythm guitarist's spirits again. "I could use a second opinion, if you have a moment? I'm suspecting some retrograde amnesia, but I haven't tested if he remembers our conversation from earlier. He had difficulties remembering things about himself and me. He even said his favourite song was Con Clavi Con Dio! Can you believe it?" He said with a slight edge of hysteria in his voice.

Omega can't help the small chuckle at Aether's exasperation at the favourite song choice, but is mentally revising all the medical knowledge he has aqquired. While the exasperation is mostly for show, it was worrying to hear since anyone who had been around the bassist long enough knew that his favourite song was by far Prime Mover.

On one of his very few interactions alone with the quiet ghoul, he had been witness to a long winded explanation on why the bass line in particular was one of his favourites to play and how the drum track lined up in such a way that it was fun to perform as well. It's one of his favourite memories he has of the water ghoul, having thoroughly enjoyed that conversation.

"Well, let me see the patient." Omega says in his best professional voice, cracking a smile when Aether laughs at him. The closer they get to Rain's room, the more Aether's tail lowers with anxiety. Omega intertwines his tail with Aether's, pressing a kiss to his cheek in what he hopes is a reassuring gesture. When they're outside the door, they can hear voices from inside. Aether's eyebrows furrow as he opens the door, eyes wide in surprise as he sees Mountain speaking to a clearly confused and distraught Rain.

"And you're so stupid for that. I mean, honestly! Taking a hit like that? You're lucky I wasn't there or that sibling of sin would've been dead five times over, and then some. Papa should have body guards anyways! Why did you take the hit? Or, did they sneak up on you? How! You're a ghoul! A damn smart one too! You're luck you're so pretty or else I'd ... I'm not sure, but stop worrying me so much I-" Aether clears his throat, hand resting on the taller ghoul's shoulder.

Mountain growls at Aether before it dies off in his throat as he sees the serious look on the normally joyful quint. The guitarist moves away from Mountain, heading over to the bed where Rain still sits, looking confused and slightly scared. "Hey, Rain. Remember me?" The bassist nods, a small but nervous smile on his face. "Y. Yeah... Uhm.. Whats going on?" He says sheepishly, eyeing the tall drummer with caution.

The Earth ghoul has the right to look offended, going to retort playfully as he normally would, but Omega shakes his head discouragingly at him, mouthing for him to keep quiet for now. Aether sits on the chair next to the bed, humming as he thinks of where to start. "Well.. this is Mountain, say hello Mountain." The drummer looks on in quiet confusion before saying a quiet greeting.

Aether smiles encouragingly at that, chuckling slightly at Rain's shy wave. "And my name is Omega." The older quint introduces, nodding in a respectful way as a greeting. Rain nods at that. "I know." Aether blinks in surprise. "You remember Omega?" Rain looks at Aether in confusion. "Of course! He taught Dew bass, remember? Then Dew taught me." He said confidently, as if Aether was the one misremembering things.

While it's true that Omega taught Dewdrop and then Dew taught Rain, it didn't make sense why he would remember Dew and Omega but not Mountain and Aether. Mountain's eyes widen as he realizes the situation. "He.. Can't remember everything?" Omega nods solemnly, moving to hold the Earth ghoul's hand comfortingly. "Not quite. But we're trying to fix it... Though that doesn't explain why he knows me but not you two."

Rain looks between the ghouls, staring at their joined hands. He feels a sting of emotion, something akin to anger or... Jealousy? He grips his head, hissing as his headache flares. Aether gently soothes him into laying down again, trying to ease the pain with traces of his element. "It's alright, like I said, don't push yourself too hard. We don't want you to permanently damage your brain."

The water ghoul's eyes widen. "I can do that?" He asks softly, voice laced with real fear. Aether curses under his breath, quickly shaking his head. "No! No, you can't. I just.. I was trying to get you to calm down." He says rushedly. Rain relaxes marginally at that, but still bites at his lip anxiously. "Now to figure out what's going on with your memory patterns.."

"I might have an idea." Mountain suggests. Aether looks at the drummer with a look of confusion. The quint has way more medical knowledge than the other, there's no way he could figure it out but Rather couldn't. "Well... Go on then." Omega encourages, intrigued.

"He doesn't remember me or Aether, but he remembers you and Dew, right?" The other ghouls nod in agreement, not sure where this is leading. "But he can form new memories and is just struggling with the past.." He continues. Aether's gets impatient, anxiety mounting. "Please just get to the point."

Mountain puts his hand up defensively, the other still laced with Omega's. "Okay, okay.." He takes a breath. "I could be wrong, but he might only remember the older era ghouls." Aether looks at him with a deadpan expression. Mountain is quick to elaborate. "He said he remembers Dew, but that doesn't mean he knows him after the element change... Do you see where I'm going with this?"

Omega's eyes widen as he processes the new information, running over the idea in his mind. "He knows Dew but only as a water ghoul, when me and him were in the band together. That's why he mentioned learning bass from him, because the water element is linked to the instrument!" Mountain nods in agreement. "We could call for Dew and test that theory-" "No."

Mountain looks over at Aether in confusion. "Wha-" "I said no." Aether's fist clenches as he takes a breath to calm down. "I love Dew, but we remember how he was to Rain after the change." Omega frowns, speaking up on his own thoughts. "Aren't they close now?" Rain looks on, lost as he tried to follow the conversation about him as if he's not right there. "Yes but.. what if Rain just remembers him when he was an asshole? I can't subject him to that right now! He's much too fragile in this state and-"

Rain clears his throat, the sound quieter than he wished for it to be, but he supposes it's fine since it made the quint pause. "I'm able to think for myself, you know. I don't know how you know me but if Dew is there, I'd like to talk to him. He was the best teacher I could ever ask for- ... No offence, Megalodon." He says sheepishly, using the old nickname for Omega in hopes it wouldn't upset the other rhythm guitarist.

Omega frowns slightly at the meek behaviour, not used to the shy Rain. He tries a placating smile, hoping to ease Rain's anxiety. "None taken." He says truthfully, not minding in the slightest.

The way Rain talks about Omega and Dew makes Aether believe his memories must be somewhere right before the element change, since Dew was still a water ghoul when teaching Rain bass. It was only after the change where Dew felt aggression towards the newer summon, redirecting the pain to anger.

Aether sighs, resting his head in his hands and closing his eyes to steady his thoughts. Would it be better to try and jog his memory or try and avoid it? The rhythm guitarist hasn't dealt with any amnesia or brain trauma patients, the territory unfamiliar and terrifying. Especially since it's someone so close to him.

However, Rain did have a point. Even if Aether wanted to keep Dew away, Rain is still in charge of his own life and his physical health doesn't seem to be at risk by allowing him to see the ex-bassist. With a reluctant frown, he texts Dew that Rain is awake and wants to see him. The quint makes sure to specifically warn Dew that the injured water ghoul may not have any recent memories of him, and may not even be aware of the element transition.

The read receipt pops up, showing that the fire ghoul is either reading the text or has already read it. The typing bubbles pop up for a few moments before disappearing and reappearing again. Aether's grip on the phone is tight and nervous, Omega coming over to gently run his fingers through the smaller quint's hair reassuringly.

Rain looks to Mountain with a pleading expression. "So.. I can see him?" The earth ghoul nods, moving over to the side of the bed and nudging Aether's foot with his to silently make him move so Mountain can have the chair next to the bed. "Yeah. We're just waiting on him to text back and let us know when he'll be here-" The door is slammed open and Dew pants lightly as if he just ran here. "... Well, I guess he's here now." Mountain says with amusement.

Aether looks at his phone, making sure he didn't miss a text. The typing bubbles never turned into words, making the quint look at Dew in confusion. The fire ghoul waves him off, pushing past him and Omega to get to the bed. He hops onto the end of the mattress, looking at the water ghoul with what seems to be a nonchalant expression, but Omega can see that he's heavily scanning the bassist for injuries and signs of distress

"So, you made it out alive, huh?" Dew says teasingly, trying to guage how Rain is doing based on the response. A flicker of recognition sparks in those cerulean eyes, a real and genuine smile on his face for the first time since Mountain has visited. "Of course I did. I can't die that easily. This is the skin of a killer, Bella!" He says with fake seriousness, a laugh bubbling from his throat before he can stop it.

Mountain's tail wags a little at hearing the cute little squeaks in his packmate's laugh, happy to hear he's feeling better. Even if Rain has no memory of Mountain, the Earth ghoul would rather have the bassist happy and content over anything else in the whole world. Nothing is more important to Mountain than his pack's wellbeing.

Omega looks between Dew and Rain with a confused expression, blinking incredulously. "You.. remember watching Twilight, but not Aether." Rain goes to retort but pauses, brows furrowing in confusion and concentration. "I .. I don't know? It just felt natural.." He mumbles, his joyful demeanor diminishing almost instantly.

Mountain frowns, trying to think of a way to cheer him up again. Dew beats him to it. "Maybe your half of a brain will start working once you get some food in you. Have you eaten yet? I mean, I know I call you fish stick for a reason but you seriously need some meat on your bones or something." Rain huffs and clicks at him with indignation. "Coming from you? That's rich! ... But uhm. Yeah, I'm starving." He says shyly at the end.

Omega grabs Aether's hand and guides him to the door. "I'll get some food started for you guys then, okay? Rain, you should be all clear to go. Just make sure you're with someone so if something happens you have help.. Come on, supernova." He says gently, guiding the emotionally drained quint out of the room with him. Rain makes a displeased cringing face at Omega's words, hissing out what seems to be a mocking impression under his breath. He's clearly displeased about how fragile everyone is treating him.

Dew chuckles and stretches dramatically, resting on top of the water ghoul. "Relax. They just care about you, that's all. They're stupid idiots who don't understand your strength, sure, but they're also incredibly worried about you... Or somethin, I dunno." He says genuinely for a moment before throwing back on his causal persona. Mountain rolls his eyes, watching as the fire ghoul slowly applies more pressure by laying on top of the now squirming water ghoul who pushes weakly at him with laughter.

The drummer scruffs the back of Dew's shirt, hauling him off the giggling bassist. "Thanks, M!" He chirps out happily, tail wagging as he taunts the restrained guitarist. "Watch yourself, Rain. I'm planning my revenge." Dewdrop growls out, but his tail wags playfully just as much. He squirms more until Mountain puts him down. "Behave." The taller ghoul says with a teasing tone.

Mountain's eyes dart over to Rain as the bassist tries to move off the bed. He gently moves Dew out of the way, helping the injured ghoul to his feet and carefully removing the IV for him. He double checks that Rain is alright and can stand on his own, before taking a step back. .. he then steps forward again and triple checks, his worry for his packmate overtaking his logic. "Dude, he's fine. See?" The fire ghoul throws a pillow at Rain, watching as the bassist blinks in shock for a moment before trying to lunge at the other.

The Earth ghoul sighs, but it's just for show. He smiles as he quietly asks Rain if he can carry him, the water ghoul looking at him hesitantly before nodding and wrapping his arms around the drummer's neck as he's picked up. Dew takes the time to be a little nuisance, poking at Rain until Mountain glares at him with enough of a threat to make him back off with a self satisfied smirk.

"Don't worry, dragonfly. No one will hurt you when I'm here."

[leannlyre]

bloodsucker- fame-fucker- bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire

[icewindandboringhorror]

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