#if anyone needs me i will simply be passing away. he brought two of his sons along with him. i will not survive

[himbeaux-on-ice]

@Canes: A young Caniac lost his ice cream, so Max Pacioretty decided to make it better ❤️

[milkloafy]

WE FIGHT AND MAKE UP — ALHAITHAM

⋆｡˚ ❀ summary: you and alhaitham get into a heated argument and give each other the cold shoulder. at night, you sleep on the couch and alhaitham comes out to find you. ⋆｡˚ ❀ contents: gn!reader, established relationship, fluff, kaveh cameo ⋆｡˚ ❀ wc: 0.9k+ ⋆｡˚ ❀ a/n: this little drabble has made me fall in love with alhaitham i am currently commissioning some selfship art as we speak i love this man pls enjoy if ur a fellow alhaitham lover :>

It wasn’t often you and Alhaitham truly fought. But the few times you did, it usually started with abnormally raised voices and ended in silent treatment that lasted late into the night.

At a certain point in time, the silent treatment would go on for so long, it became more like a battle of perseverance— Who would cave and speak to the other first?

You were stubborn, you had to admit, but Alhaitham could take it to a whole new level. Even when you tried to extend an olive branch, he would continue to keep to himself and draw out the silence between you.

You huffed as you wrapped a blanket around you. Kaveh had passed by your sorry state bundled up on the couch and wordlessly brought you a spare pillow and blanket. If there was anyone who understood Alhaitham’s stubbornness even more than you, it would have to be his roommate for years and former friend since the Akademiya, Kaveh. 

There was no explanation needed as Kaven patted you on the head before going back into his own room. 

Sighing, you laid down on the couch in the cold living room while Alhaitham was likely warm and cozy, snuggled up in bed without you. 

Dejected, you turned to your side and hugged the pillow Kaven gave. At this point, you were no longer even mad at Alhaitham. Sure, the two of you blew up on each other, but the heat simmered out and you were ready to make up and move on. 

It was too bad Alhaitham wasn’t, you thought to yourself, glaring at the cushion in front of you. 

You tossed and turned into the late of night, unable to get comfortable when your thoughts were focused on your boyfriend you were apparently still fighting with. Just as you were about to give up on sleep for the rest of the night, you heard a door creak open and the sound of footsteps coming from down the hall. 

Thinking it was only Kaveh again, you sat up and signed loudly, hugging your knees to your chest. 

“You’re still out here?”

Your spine straightened when you realized that voice was certainly not Kaveh. It was lower, deeper, much more familiar. Alhaitham.

Letting out an exhale, you shrugged without turning around to face him. “Where else would I go?”

Alhaitham sighed, walking around the sofa and taking a seat next to you, keeping a respectable distance away.

“You could go back to our bed,” he said quietly.

When you didn’t respond, he ran his hand through his hair in frustration.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You peered up at him with a look of reservation on your face.

“I’m sorry for letting you stay out here alone for so long,” he continued in a strained tone. 

You examined him, heart softening when you saw his tired and worn eyes, red skin at the edges. Although he hated showing it, you could easily see how much he was effected by this argument. 

“I’m really sorry. Won’t you come back to our room? I…miss you.”

Your resolve cracked after hearing those words. All you wanted for the past few hours was to make up. Now that he was the one holding up the peace flag, you toyed with the idea of making him grovel to make up for it. But a bigger part of you simply wanted to be in his arms again. 

“I miss you, too, Haith,” you said, moving closer to him. “I’m sorry for being so stubborn.”

Alhaitham gently took your hand into his and gave it a squeeze. “Perhaps we were both a little obstinate. But I love you too much to allow this stalemate to continue on.”

You nodded in agreement, burrowing your head into the crook of his neck. Breathing in deeply, you took in his familiar scent and let it warm your heart. 

“I hate the silent treatment,” you proclaimed, sniffling haughtily. “Let’s never do it again. I’m sorry for being a meanie.”

Alhaitham chuckled before planting a kiss on your forehead. “I was mean, too. I’m sorry for that. And you are forgiven.” He leaned his chin against the top of your head, not applying his full weight. “Now, let’s go to bed?”

“Yes, please.” You stood up slowly beside him. “I’m so tired. I can’t believe we were fighting for this loong over the existence of aliens!” 

He snorted, shaking his head in disbelief. “Our debates can get heated at times. But I enjoy that about us. Always being agreeable is too…mundane.” 

“I second that. But I just still can’t believe you don’t think aliens are real! In a world where gods and dragons exist… Aliens of all things are too farfetched?”

“Y/N,” he said in a warning tone.

You giggled, ruffling the top of his head with an exaggerated pat. “Okay, okay. Tonight, we make peace. I get it.”

“Mhm.” Alhaitham began walking to your room, holding your hand as you followed behind him. “Tonight, we make up. Tomorrow, we prepare our arguments and have a more structured debated.”

“Kaven can moderate the discussion,” you offered.

Alhaitham nodded. “I am agreeable to those terms. For now, please get in bed with me.”

You grinned at his pleas, closing the door behind you as you tackled him into a giant hug. “How about you kiss me first?”

Alhaitham smiled as he obliged, cupping your cheek in his warm hand. “As you wish, my love.”

[darthfighter]

stop whining

summary: you are presented with a high bounty you can collect named kai varis, he once was a former jedi. you conjure up a plan to reunite with a past lover to collect a bounty, but you are revisited with an old flame. will it light again as you two work together?

warnings: tension, violence, mandalorian!reader, character death, smut, oral (f!receiving), munch!qimir yup yup !!

word count: 5.7k

A/N: i powered through this for the beloved @nomarksonelegance who is undeniably my most loyal reader 😭 your support doesn’t go unnoticed. as well as @wooyoungsbxtch who encouraged me to write this <3 thanks for all the support bffs !!

100,000 credits. That's how much you would be rewarded if you captured this rogue Jedi. The credits that were displayed in front of you on the bounty hologram were like you were looking into the stars. You knew this price could get your foot out of the sinking sand taking you down. All your debts and needs. Especially those savory drinks you down whenever you earn enough credits to spend at Canto Bight.

Your memories start to resurface on that expensive planet. All the money that went down the drain, or especially the passionate nights between you and your partner. Your old partner, to be precise.

You and him had met once you confronted him on being a bounty. He was the hardest one to find or capture. Anyone who searched for him and succeeded, either returned empty handed, or simply never returned. You on the other hand had found him which turned into a heated brawl.

Although there was some similarity between the two of you. Neither of you knew it yet. Though at first glance people might think it was your similar attire. His helmet as well as yours. Your forearm is built of beskar to be able to block his lightsabers, like his forearm made of cortosis. The both of you built yourselves armor, but both of you deep down had something to cover internally. This, Qimir sensed. It’s why he didn’t kill you that day.

It’s why he lets you search for him repeatedly, and lets you encounter him more than once. Until you sense it too. Although you’re no Jedi. Unlike Qimir, or whatever he is. You eventually sense the familiarity with him. How he matched your violence, your anger, your rage. He resembled you, and you resembled him.

This brought you two to work together. Find criminals while maybe being criminals yourselves, but this was a hard life. It wasn’t easy. To get by in this universe was to make hard decisions or make mistakes.

Now you were both masked vigilantes in a way, working together. The two of you bounced off of each other well and it made you capture more bounties than you ever had, with the help of Qimir. He became a part of your life. To the point his voice would be in the back of your mind in his absence.

Then grew want. Your motive started to change. You ended up getting jobs you didn’t really need, but instead felt the need to be beside Qimir. The more jobs you took the closer the two of you grew.

It quickly went from gentle touches to tight lustful grips. From accompanying each other during meals to being able to taste the lingering drink on each other's lips.

Though over time, he started to become The Stranger everyone called him. He started to grow, in a way, grow away from you. Slowly become that stranger they all talked about. He grew more wants and needs that weren’t you. Even from the very beginning, he wanted a pupil. Someone to teach. Someone to become the power of two. The power you didn’t have. This causes heated arguments with voices rising and falling. You felt little, with little to offer. This led to you both parting ways.

It’s been a while since then, and in moments like now, you start to reminisce on the time together.

Although your mind stayed on him. This bounty was too perfect to pass up. Too perfect not to pursue. It was calling to you. The sight of the credits before you buzzed in your ears. You needed to succeed on this, and you knew just the right person to help make that happen.

–

Flying yourself to Qimir’s planet made you feel nothing but nostalgia. In a way it was overwhelming. The smell of the air to the sounds of the waves crashing. Just being on the planet made you feel all those feelings you once had while being here. All the memories made your eyes water.

Walking your way closer to the island made you feel less than. The reason being you have no idea if he’s really here, and you can’t exactly call out to the force to feel his presence. You just have to trust the fact he might be on this island.

You slowly shift yourself around the terrain and scan the area for any sign of his stature. The rocks tumble beneath your shoes. You start to walk alongside the shore with waves crashing beside you. You walk and walk, until you are met with him.

He’s tying a knot in a net with what seems to be his dinner inside, resting eternally.

The sight of him brings back all your feelings in an instant. Flowing through you from head to toe. It keeps you in place, frozen. Your armor stays completely still and unmoving, though your heart jumps at every chance it gets and bounces against your chestplate. You see him now, modulated from your helmet, and think of all the times you truly saw him. Unfiltered and true.

Without looking at you, he speaks between the distance “How much?” It’s monotone but assertive. There is no emotion behind it, just a simple question.

You respond to him, though your voice shakes more than you anticipated and your modulated voice from your helmet can’t cover it “100,000.”

There goes a moment of silence where neither of you say anything. The lingering amount of credits ring in his mind.

You look at him and take him in like the heat of the suns. Your body starts to panic internally at the realization about the situation you put yourself in. Going back to a man you have undeniable history with just for the sake of some credits. Or maybe it was you finding an excuse to see him.

Qimir uses his strength and hauls the net of food around his shoulder, still silent. He walks until he is a few steps in front of you, and stares at your helmet. He tries to find your eyes beneath it, scanning your visor. There is a split second he truly matches your gaze and it squeezes your heart. This makes the corner of his lip twitch into a smile. Qimir goes back to his trail and walks beside you, still saying nothing.

He was a man of few words, and whenever he did speak, he talked in a way like you were reading a book. Saying things like they were written, or like he rehearsed it. Never slurring or stuttering his words. He knew the exact words to say to get you convinced or to make you melt.

Though at this moment he remained unspoken, and you weren’t letting this trip go to waste.

“His name is Kai Varis.” You started to march towards him but leaving some distance behind him. You didn’t want to be close enough to breathe down his neck. “He once was a Jedi.” This makes him stop in his tracks.

“What happened?” He asked. His tone now wasn’t monotone, but rather curious.

“Fell into his feelings–” You walk a bit closer to him and continue on “Apparently he fell in love with a common girl. He was stationed out on a planet and fell in love with a farm girl. Maybe wanted to grow crops forever instead of his Jedi duties.” There was a hint of sarcasm in your speech, “I don't know! The point is, the Jedi council wouldn’t allow it. Revenge happened. Some Jedi died. They're trying to find him but are failing, so they’re setting out an award for whoever finds him.”

Qimir is still looking ahead, but once you stop talking, his head shifts slightly to the side. Almost like he wanted to turn and see you, but instead he continues walking on forward. “I'm assuming this isn’t an easy job.”

“I wouldn’t be asking you if it was easy.” You responded.

He walks and walks. Continues to walk. He walks even more, and still not conversing as much as you want. You are starting to grow more agitated and it makes your chest burn, you look into the distance at the suns, and you decide to set it straight “I’ll be on my ship until the suns set. If you don't make up your mind until the sky is black, I'm leaving.” You stop your pace and wait for an answer.

Still walking.

—

Sitting in the cockpit of your ship, you swivel your chair from side to side in anticipation. The last sun is almost set and it’s closing in on the horizon. The sky is growing darker, resembling the hope you have for Qimir’s company.

You start to feel like an idiot, now regretting coming here. If he does decide to not join you, the last encounter you two have is this short awkward offer instead of the true last time you saw each other. Your brain starts to reminisce on the warm embraces and passionate kisses, but you are shoved out your thoughts harshly by his gravely modulated voice coming from behind you.

“Happy now?”

You jump out of your seat a bit in surprise. While you were thinking back your memorable moments with Qimir, you missed the last bit of the sun falling in the distance. You turn to look at him, and the two of you stare at each other with your helmets on, almost like a standoff. Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you finally realize his teasing remark and shake your head moving your helmet side to side. You don’t say anything about it and instead turn your gaze to the dashboard, pushing switches and knobs to make it to your destination.

Qimir doesn’t sit in the chair beside you for takeoff, just stands in the corner with his arms stretched out in front of his leather poncho-like attire. When you finally make it to the sky, far enough, you push forward and set you and Qimir into hyperspace. The ship shifts with a force and the environment illuminates pure blue.

Without looking back to Qimir, you set him in on the scene. The planet you both are going to is a commonly known planet where fugitives hide out, in the hopes to get a hunch on this rogue Jedi. It’s a spread out community unlike others. So everyone has their privacy. The scenery is filled with trees so tall you might crack your neck trying to look at a whole tree.

You are met with quiet. Mentally you are hoping to Maker his silence is a sign he’s listening. So you let him be. Although you are left with you. You and your mind, and it starts to wander. On why he chose to come along last minute, why he’s not speaking as much as he used to with you, if there is a possibility he hates your guts, or if there is something he’s not telling you. You piece it together. After minutes of running around in your brain trying to put the puzzle together, you have a question.

“Are you coming along to not capture him, but teach him?” Your helmet looks back to him, and he turns to you, slightly shifting down as a yes. He doesn’t care about the bounty, he wants a pupil.

This makes your chest fill with steam and your blood boil. Both of your motives are different and you aren’t on the same page. You rise from your seat and stomp towards the exit, but before you can make your way out, Qimir softly (though it is deep and raspy with his helmet) says your name, and stretches out his arm to rest his hand on your forearm to stop you from leaving abruptly. Though you sadly ache for his real touch considering his hand is only on your armor piece on your arm, not really touching your skin like how you wish. No matter what you think, there will always be something in the way with you two.

Before he can say anything, you leave the cockpit to assess the situation.

—

Your mind finally settled on an option as you just went through your mental files of ideas. You stomped your way back into the cockpit with Qimir still in the corner, the force from the ship shifted as you exited out of hyperspace. The sight of the planet came into view making this situation become a reality. The reality is both of you having different motives. You know convincing Qimir won't be an option, you don't wanna waste your time. So you accept it.

“Whoever finds him first gets to decide what to do with him. I find him, I turn him in and get my reward. Or you get to him first and train him.” After your statement, you turn to him and see him remain unmoving. Until he nods his head down indicating a yes. This annoys you, even though you both agree on something, it's not what you wanted.

Once again the two of you are going your separate ways just like before, never moving or even thinking in sync. Always off balance.

Eventually you make your way to the overgrown trees of a planet and find a place to land your ship. You do so perfectly and start to gear yourself up. Whereas Qimir just has his helmet, coat, and lightsaber. You have your rifle strapped to your back, pistol on your hip, and cuffs onto your belt for when you capture him. You have more baggage, metaphorically and physically speaking. The heaviness on your shoulders was like a spitting image of how you felt on the inside.

As you both got off your ship, Qimir looked at you from the side, and wasted no time heading to find Kai Varis. He was determined, and so were you.

Obviously you went the opposite way as him in the hopes to be going towards the side Kai is really at.

At this moment, deep down secretly, you are furious. Furious for the reason being you both aren’t on the same page, and also being the fact you weren’t a Jedi yourself. Qimir always has an advantage. It was one of the reasons he was so good at finding bounties. Though slowly your ego started to rise. This was your job and you are good at it. You have no force to call out to in moments when you could use it. All you used was your brain and instincts. It has gotten you this far in life and that seemed like a good sign to you. As well as being able to fend for yourself, and especially defend yourself with pure agility. No extra bonus in the force. All you.

You’ll find Kai Varis.

You’ll definitely show to Qimir you don’t need him as much as he thinks. Even though deep down in your bones you craved him more than you’d like to admit. You wish at this moment you could take each individual bone in your body and clean them yourself, to get rid of his residue.

This wasn’t the moment to be thinking of Qimir. Kai should be your main focus right now, but Qimir lingered in the back of your mind. Infesting you like a parasite.

With every step you took wandering around the planet, your thoughts would focus on your mission with trying to find Kai, but Qimir would end up being the forefront no matter what. It started to frustrate you, causing more force to each of your steps.

Your helmet scanned the area and even highlighted every object around you, but your main focus was the ground to see if any shoe prints were made recently. After a few minutes, you see faded imprints of shoes in the dirt before you. The anticipation makes your heart leap, stinging inside of you.

You immediately dart towards the trail to find who it belongs to, only to be met with a campsite with what seems to be a traveler. He has a pot above the makeshift fire filling the air with smoke. He sees you, you and your armored stature. There is a sense of intimidation receding off of him. You slowly walk towards him, feeding into the intimidation. All you do before him is display the bounty on a hologram, and with your actions you ask if he has seen him. With no words, he raises his right hand and uses his pointer finger to point to the right of him. You nod your head down as a thank you, and immediately head that direction.

It took a bit of time to get another sign of Kai Varis. The suns started to set a bit more, illuminating a orange hue into the green leaves around you. The bright light shined through the trees, though you couldn't see much of the sight through your helmet. You imagined it looked quite nice. The next sign you saw was an empty food container next to a bush. You pick up the remnants of Kai and feel the warmth beneath your glove. Indicating he had been here recently. You scan the area with heavy breaths at the mere thought of getting close to catching him all on your own. His steps trace to the left of you, and you follow the trail.

The more you walk the more you see the trace appears more recent. You’re getting closer until you see a bright light shine through the trees. It’s a fireplace cracking in the distance with no one nearby. You cautiously walk towards the scene, finding remnants of a life lived at this site. With cans of food and a makeshift bed on the ground. Your neck goes from left to right repeatedly, until you come to the conclusion no one is near this area. Though they couldn’t have gone far, you thought.

Your heavy combat boots crunch below you as the twigs and leaves give you away, considering your weight is doubled by your heavy armor. You decide to bring out your pistol instead of your rifle because it makes more logical sense as you are on your toes and will most likely endure close combat soon. The pistol sticks to your palms like glue and your eyes are wide and open. Barely blinking in case you miss him.

Clashes of blue and red shine in the far forest.

Qimir found him first.

It was no surprise to you that he did, but it still stung your chest and made you irritated. You groan in an irritated manner and head towards the fight. Once you make it, Qimir’s anonymous alias is fighting against a once Jedi. They both move so fluidly like water. Both in sync, unlike you and Qimir.

In this moment you are on a ledge above them and decide to take charge from this distance. You put your pistol back in its holster with your heart racing more and more by the second. With shaky hands you reach towards your back and grab a hold of your sniper rifle. You switch the mode to stun mode, and finally see your trembling hands. You’ve had countless jobs just like this one, but this specific one just has too much at stake. Too much to lose. You tighten your hand into a forceful grip to bring yourself back to reality, and immediately get in position to strike from a far distance.

Your helmet aligns with the scope of your rifle to only have them move so fast you can barely keep track of them both, so you prepare. You prepare for where they will be. They seem to be moving to the right, so you aim more ahead of the right. The stakes are high, and you need to time this at the right second. With your finger on the trigger, you anxiously hold it until the right moment comes. You see Kai in your view and pull your trigger finger. The stun ray shoots through the air, missing him by just a second.

You failed.

Then Qimir and Kai’s attention gets sent to you. Their gaze pierces you like a knife and you feel frozen. Kai darts to you, now making you his target instead.

Qimir feels fear. Fear that you are now at risk more than he anticipated. With no hesitation he as well runs towards the fight.

Now, you rise to your feet and bolt the opposite way. Moving as fast as you can muster. You have no Jedi speed, so it's only a matter of time until both of them catch up to you.

From the left, Kai appears from behind a tree and sways his blue saber towards you, which you dodge. You are still holding your rifle and you have no time to set it back in place, and it's weighing you down. Kai strikes again to which you raise your rifle out of fear and block the attack. The rifle splits into two, falling to the floor becoming instantly useless. You have no time to mourn over your lost weapon, but instead reach for your last weapon.

You reach for your pistol out your holster and waste no seconds with aiming and shooting, to which Kai blocks every laser with his lightsaber.

You’ve fought many bounties and captured many, but none of them have ever been a Jedi. You feel little and at a loss. He has countless advantages on you, and he wastes no time using them.

With the force, Kai pulls your pistol out of your hand. He lunges towards you and you sway out of the way before the hot steaming blade can meet you, but you didn't anticipate for the blade to reach your leg. With a second attack immediately after his first, he slices your right leg swiftly.

From your stinging leg, to your stomach inhaling from the pain, to your throat brewing a loud screech, and finally to your mouth letting out a hurtful wail. You fall to the floor as the weight on your injured leg becomes too unbearable for you to stand on. You are weak and hurt. Defeated.

You know these are your last moments and you don't think of all your fond memories you had, or you don’t think about you're not ready to die. Your mind is blank, and all you do is stare at Kai Varis in front of you. He raises his saber to strike you, to finish you. You squeeze your eyes shut to face the impact of death and you hear the saber scream against skin, but it's not yours. Death never came. So you open your eyes to find a red saber impaling Kai.

Beneath your helmet, you open your eyes and see life wash away from Kai’s complexion. The red lightsaber disappears and Kai’s dead weight makes him fall to the floor harshly with a loud thud. Your eyes stay onto him, realizing the situation now at hand.

He’s dead, and the money went with him.

Your head snaps to Qimir, and you stare at each other with blank gazes against each other's helmets. You can't read his face, and he can’t read yours. But you use your tone to show your expression “What have you done!” Your loud voice echoes against the inside of your helmet and it hurts your ears. You can’t see what Qimir is looking like at the moment but his chest rises and falls at a rapid pace indicating he is breathing heavily. He’s not calm and neither are you. “Neither of us got what we wanted?!”

You attempt to rise to your feet to argue more thoroughly, but you crash back to the floor with your wound on your calf bringing you back down. Qimir offers a hand but you slap it away. You feel the sting of regret when you do so. You are harsh towards him even though deep down you are tender for him, but the stakes of this moment are too high for you to be fond of him like you always are. Your credits are washed down the drain, and you are only left empty handed and wounded. Not only that, you opened a deep wound in the process of all of this by bringing Qimir into this. Revisiting old flames.

Slowly and with ease you get back up putting more pressure into your left leg leaning the weight on that side. You limp your way back to your ship, refusing Qimir’s help in the process.

The closer you got to your ship the more you felt anguish below you. Your hairline was slick with sweat and heart thumping in adrenaline to keep you from passing out. The pain was unbearable and all you wanted to do was get off this Maker forsaken green planet. Slowly you made yourself climb up the rail with Qimir behind you. He was irritating you the more time he spent around you. Like an itch you couldn’t scratch.

Finally you made it to the cockpit and crashed onto the chair feeling the weight off your shoulders finally lifted. With all the energy you had left, you flew you and Qimir off the planet, and set out for hyperspace.

With a raspy voice you asked him “Can you grab the medkit?” But he doesn’t reply. Nor do you hear his footsteps recede away from you. He just stays. In your mind, you think why must he be doing everything to make you mad?

Instead of his steps going away, they go towards you. His hand reaches towards your chair and swivels you to face him. With tired eyes, you do so. You look at him with your head laying against the headrest, but you have to raise it up to follow him, keeping your gaze on him as he kneels down in front of you.

With a gentle touch, Qimir wraps his hand around your ankle to lift your right leg. You wince above him and he still remains silent. His fingertips barely touch your wound, and he asks "So the only reason you took this is for credits? Nothing else?" He lifts your leg higher making you gasp through your lungs and inhale. You are straining your voice when you reply to his question “What are you implying?”

“You know what.”

Qimir’s words are intimidating, and it doesn't help that his modulated helmet makes it more so. With the force, he is gentle, and heals you beneath his palm. A relief washes over you like a wave and the pain slips through your fingers like silk. It is wearing off, and breathing becomes a bit easier. By the time you look down to your leg, your red gashing wound is no more. Your skin is bare and open beneath your striped cloth on your pants, and Qimir starts to massage it. He kneads your flesh like dough and your physical memories of you two in moments like this become the forefront in your mind. The moments where his big hands would softly caress your skin in bare moments like these. Those moments would be rather passionate and heated.

Although right now you are in the opposite. Clothed head to toe, and even with your facial expressions hidden away from him. You in armor hiding away doesn't change the fact your cunt starts to pulsate beneath you just from his touch. The familiar touch you mourned.

His hand stays onto your calf while his other hand reaches for his helmet, which he slowly takes off. Everything you wondered about under there is revealed. You see his dark eyes with a hazy glow to them, his eyebrows closing together in concentration, and especially his slick lips already licked from his tongue from want.

You start to bite your lip in the hopes to not let your yearning seep through your teeth. You grip the arm rests beside you tightly and the leather stretches in the air. He hears this, and his eyes dart to your tenseness in front of him. This makes his lip twitch in a smirk but is quickly stripped away.

Qimir slowly lowers his head to your exposed leg, and kisses your now healed wound. His lips are soft against your skin and it takes all the strength you have to keep your mouth shut. You don’t want to moan, not this early, not with that simple kiss. It’s pathetic how unraveled he makes you. But he doesn't stop there, he continues up your leg still kissing it even through the cloth. He plants kisses up your inner knee, to your thigh, and finally inner thigh. Your hips buck in a jumpy twitch. Finally he presses one kiss on your core, and you exhale more than you anticipated but you inhale it as quick as it came out.

He doesn’t continue, just keeps his face in between your legs while his eyes scan your visor trying to find your eyes. His head shakes from side to side in a mental disagreement in his head and this makes his long black strands of hair in front of his face move fluidly.

His body rises towards you and he reaches towards your helmet to take it off. Once it's off you both examine each other's expressions. Eyes darting from inch to inch. The one word to explain Qimir’s gaze is satisfaction. The reaction you're giving him is the exact one he wants.

Qimir’s hand reaches towards your chin to hold it in place, as he presses a soft but long kiss onto your lips. You waste no time in reciprocating it from all the lost time you two have had. Your lips haven’t meshed with his in a long time, but you kiss like you had done so yesterday. Finally, you both are in sync. In a way, this is how you two fight.

Smacks from each other's lips fill the air and you start to taste the sweet taste you missed from his lips. You hum against him as you savor it. Just as you start to let yourself melt away under him, he removes himself from your lips. Your neck extends wanting more, but he lowers himself back in between your legs. With his tender hands, he tugs onto your waistband lowering it down. The ship's cold air reaches its way to your slowly exposed skin and sends shivers down your spine. Before you know it, you’re fully exposed to him and you feel like it's the first time all over again.

His mouth hangs open in desire. With the hand he has just used to heal you, he lightly touches your pussy, feeling the slickness of want. “Just credits? Nothing else?”

“Shut up.” You retort.

Qimir uses his pointer finger and his middle to gently message the sides of your cunt. With a fast warmth, he presses his flat tongue on your entrance and licks upwards towards your clit. You sigh loud inside the small cockpit and you finally let your moans escape your lips. While he kisses and sucks on your pussy.

The vibrations of his voice below you sends waves of pleasure through you. The main crash landing onto your clit. Your gloved hand reaches towards his hair and he groans against you the more you pull.

You missed this. You close your eyes shut to savor this moment. To keep it lasting. You start to focus on not finishing. You need to make this last as long as you can. Although you start to ride his face, moving your hips back and forth. This comes to you as a natural instinct, like you rehearsed it.

Then, you released the tight bite you had on your lip and spoke with heavy breaths “This doesn’t mean I forgive you.”

His lips unlatch from your cunt, and with a wet mouth he answers in a condescending tone “Stop whining about it.”

Shortly after he latches back onto you, wanting to savor and taste more of you.

Your stomach grows tight and as well as your gloves from your constant clutches on the armrest and Qimir’s locks. Your chestpiece rises and falls from your pants, and you’re getting close. Qimir no doubt senses this. He practically can sense anything with his force. So he repeatedly hums a low “Mhm” against you, sending you over the edge.

You unravel against him and your whole body gets tense. Your eyes then shut so tight your ears hum from the force from your eyes. Qimir’s mouth never leaves you and continues to run his tongue over you. Though the more you come down the more gentler he does so. He knows you. He especially knows your body, and he knows you like him to leave lingering kisses around you once you finish.

You can hear the sound of his soft kisses against your core and thighs, feeling the comfort beneath his actions. Finally you open your eyes to be met with the roof of the cockpit, until Qimir comes into view begging for another kiss. Which you gladly give him.

Both of you and Qimir’s lips move in sync and you taste yourself on him.

Once you stop kissing, you look into his eyes and assess the situation. The reason you both were brought together was to find a bounty, Qimir had different motives, you two went separate ways, found each other during combat, he saves you from Kai to only kill him in the process, losing the bounty as well as his wanted pupil, then you are injured, make your way back to the ship, to finally being eaten out by a man you have history with.

It’s complicated to say the least.

The jump out of hyperspace pulls you back into reality. To which he gently puts your pants back to where they were.

Qimir doesn’t rise from the ground. He stays crouching below you, with doe-like eyes looking back at you.

“You forgive me?” His voice is soft and sincere. No hint of teasing behind it. He’s serious about it. Considering he took months worth of pay that you would have received away from you.

Your hand reaches the side of his face, and you lean forward. With a healed leg and euphoric come down, you answer with a kiss.

[hirschkuh-im-traum]

Bloodlust

the plot is: it's becoming problematic to stay in the hotel for a hungry vampire like you, but alastor knows how to help you

part 1, part 2

words ≈ 8k

warnings: smut, blood and gore, so much blood, mention of animal death, biting and licking of blood and just licking, bj, kinda intoxication, hallucinations, size difference (reader is a short vampire), grammar or spelling mistakes

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

“I think you better not ban her from eating,” Commented Angel, not taking away his eyes from the screen of his phone.

“Angel, her food is blood. She tortures and kills to get it. ” Vaggie tiredly massaged her temples, “It goes against the rules of the Hotel, you can't hurt anyone.”

“Then why is she even here?” He threw up the lowest section of his arms, looking up at Vaggie.

“Because she needed it!” Charlie interrupted.

The princess would always remember how she met you. You came to the hotel late at night, when Charlie couldn't fall asleep, trying to find the answers to the questions of redemption. You rushed into the hall red-handed. Blood was on your face, hands, clothes. It dripped from your mouth and claws, staining the carpet. Your eyes were wide with fear, and you came up to the frightened princess, grabbed her hands with yours covered in blood and pronounced, stuttering, “You… can change me?”

You had just gone down to hell then. You didn't understand your nature, didn't know why you were always thirsty, didn’t know why you had insomnia. And you wanted to change, wanted to become yourself again. That's why after your first murdering, that you didn't even remember clearly, you ran to the place from the commercial. The place that promised you the second chance.

That first murdering was gross. That she-demon looked so… appetising. And it was your third day in hell, your hunger grew with every minute but you couldn't find any food that your organism wouldn't reject. But seeing her blushing chubby cheeks, that little pulsing vein on her neck, you thought that she was made just for your sharp fangs.

Greedy pouncing on her, you sank your teeth in her throat, squeezed her arms in your clawed grip, and you drank, drank, drank…

The first meal was messy. The body under your feet was barely recognizable, you were covered in her blood, as during the process you wanted to drink dry her every artery and vein, so you simply tore her body apart.

Your own savagery frightened you.

But two months had passed and you got used to your new essence. Blood was delicious. It was your life, your fare, drug and desire. You found decades of ways of making someone's blood run faster, so it would more easily slip past your lips through your throat right into your belly. You knew how to make a bite a torture or a bliss. Knew what type of blood was most delicious and from what part of the body it was the hottest.

The threat of eviction from the Hotel hung over you, as Niffty had found a dead stray cat under the stairs (you decided never feed on animals again, their blood was simply bad and smelly), and Vaggie with Charlie were the witnesses of something more horrible.

You had a strict conversation with them, when the girls gave an ultimatum — you had to stop killing or you'd be turned out of the Hotel.

Blood was your food, and only hot fresh blood could kill your hunger, so those plastic bags filled with blood of donors that Charlie brought from hospital were useless for you. And it caused even more anger from her girlfriend. All your words remained unheard. Vaggie looked at you with uncovered disgust and hate, Charlie with sorry and… fear.

Then you locked yourself in your room. You wouldn't leave this hotel. Just in two months it became your home. And not only the building was dear to your heart, the sinners you had found here became the thing you didn't want to lose. The prospect of leaving them seemed more terrifying than drinking cold blood from the plastic bags.

They all sat in silence for a while. The fourth day since you locked up in your room was drawing to a close, the setting sun illuminated the living room with an orange-red glow. You didn't go out, didn't speak with anyone, didn't eat. And the residents began to hear the weird sounds from your dwelling, as if an animal was raving in its cage: scratching against the walls, growls and cries, the sound of breaking furniture. But this wild noise was sounding for just three days. Today there was only silence. And it terrified the residents even more.

“It's okay to eat meat here, right?”

“Angel, she's a vampire. All she eats is blood. Fresh blood.” Her voice trembled, as she recalled how she once pointed to the smudged lipstick on your lip, and you smiled predatorily at her, licked your lip and thanked her, your eyes flashing red. Vaggie tired of explaining to everyone why exactly your diet was so… complicated. And she shivered every time explaining it. It was disgusting. This nature was disgusting. You were disgusting.

The expression of aversion on Vaggie’s face couldn't stay unnoticed from a pair of bright red eyes. The man who said not a single word during the meeting opened his mouth. The sound of atmospherics cut through tension in the air as a knife when he said,

“Why judge the girl for her diet? It would be better to help her, don't you think?”

All eyes looked at him.

“What do you mean?” Asked Charlie. Her doleful expression slightly lightened up with a hope. She didn’t want to lose you or any other resident, but she also had to protect her people. So she would listen to any advice. Even from a cannibal. Perhaps, he could know how to best combat voracious appetite.

“I mean, my dear, the only way to satisfy her hunger is to give her what she craves.” A mysterious smile played on his lips.

Vaggie prepared her spear, “I won't let you-”

“There's absolutely no need for such measures, my dear,” He said, standing up and pushing away the spear with his forefinger, “No one will be hurt, I promise. At least not of their free will.”

“Then how are you going t-”

“And that's, dear Charlie, only my worries!” And with these words he vanished in his shadow.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Alastor materialised in the hall and headed for your room. He wanted you to hear him coming. It could whet your appetite: hearing someone's steps, heartbeat, breath. As a predator you had a good hearing, and he wanted you to feel a living being. Maybe it could make you suffer from hunger a little more.

When you came, Alastor expected your failure. He didn't believe in redemption, but if it could work after all, for everyone it was more possible than for you. A gluttonous bloodthirsty creature like you could never find its way to heaven. And how entertaining it was to watch how bit by bit you understood this yourself. And how much fun Alastor had, watching your attempts to kill secretly, to retain your chance of staying in the hotel. And how you failed every time. Indeed why couldn't a vampire hide a body after her meal? Must be too excited after her dine to worry about the consequences.

But Alastor loved you accepting your nature. He loved the sight of your sharp fangs when you smiled; loved when you sniffed with your little nose, smelling blood when he returned from another slaughter; loved when you looked at the residents like at your prey; loved when you kept your hungry gaze on him for a little too long.

Oh, how ravishing you looked when Alastor caught you in the act of eating with your lips blooded and your eyes glowing with yet not satisfied desire.

But his favourite memory was the day before your voluntary shutting. He remembered how he suddenly felt someone's eyes on him and looked up from his book. You shamelessly stared at him, as if you were going to pounce on him right there. Your forefinger was placed between your teeth, and you bit into your own flesh, peering at him with a glassy stare absolutely lost in your thoughts. The tip of your pink tongue lewdly stuck out and caressed the pad of your finger. Alastor stared back at you, but you didn't dare to take your eyes away from him, until your fang sank into your flesh, and a little red pearl slipped down your hand. Only then you came out of your trance and quickly left the room, leaving Alastor with a whetting appetite.

He smelled your blood then. It was heavenly. Just a single drop was enough to make his mind blur and his mouth salivate.

Now he was heading to your room to take more and to give more. Oh, how perfectly starved you were now after several days of hunger. And he was ready to help you, but in exchange of course.

He stopped in front of your door, the dark wood with a pinned crucifixion on the surface. Everybody knew that any symbol of any religion couldn’t work on you, but you thought it'd be funny to hang a steel cross on the door of a vampire. After all, you were a little bit of a goth. Somehow the crucifixion got rusty where the lines crossed each other perpendicularly. With sharp tips of his claws Alastor touched the cross, and it slipped, now hanging upside down. Alastor smirked and knocked slowly at the door, though he didn't have to be invited to enter.

* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

You heard the steps coming closer and recognized them immediately by the time between each step, by their loudness, just by their clatter. The loud clops of Alastor’s heels sounded clear through the empty corridor, and the sound came closer. Then you heard his breath, slow and calm. Alastor stopped in front of your door, and his heartbeat echoed in your head, making your own pulse imitate his.

You ran to the door, although it was already locked. Three knocks on your door, cautious but demanding.

“Get out!” You could almost feel the heat of his body even through the door, his pulse became louder and louder in your head, driving you crazy. The feeling of hunger increased.

“That's me, darling,” You heard a tender voice from the other side.

“I know, go away! I can hurt you, Alastor,” Last words you pronounced quietly they were barely heard on the side of the door. But Alastor had as good hearing as you.

“Wouldn't that be lovely, dear?” His voice was low, and the words were imbued with something dark. You swallowed hard when you recognized hunger and anticipation in his tone. “Hurt me to take you pleasure?” Next moment you heard a dark chuckle behind your back and turned around, “I'm here to help you, dear.”

Your bedroom was in semi-darkness, for no lamp or candle were lit up, and the windows were curtained though not completely, so the only light coming to your dwelling was the scarlet light of hell pouring through the window right on your bed. But you and Alastor, had eyes made for hunting, and you saw each other perfectly in the dimly lit room.

Your skin was paler than usual and your lips seemed dry. Your almost insane eyes weakly shone with red when you looked at Alastor unbuttoning his coat.

“Wha-? What are you doing?”

Without taking his eyes from you, Alastor took off his coat and headed for your bed, unbuttoning the left cuff of his shirt.

“Preparing dinner for you,” He sat on the edge of your bed, one sleeve rolled up, showing his scarred skin.

His face was pale grey, but his hands were coloured in black right to his elbows, where it slowly changed into the greyish again. Thin and thick lines of white crossed his forearm mostly on the inner side, making you wonder whether he was the cause of them or the countless battles he took part in. 

You didn't notice how you creeped and sat nearby him. Alastor outstretched his forearm, softly smiling at you and lightening the dark with dim yellow. You almost wished your fangs could radiate the light like this. Where the black of his skin changed into the grey you saw a thin pulsing vein. Alastor saw your dark eyes lightened up brighter, and his own mouth watered with anticipation. Slowly, very slowly you lowered your head. You took a deep breath in, inhaling his scent and brushing your nose against his skin. But instead of sinking your fangs into his skin immediately you pressed your lips to this vein in a light kiss. You looked up at him, watching his emotions. He frowned, his crimson eyes flashed suddenly. You lowered your gaze and closed your eyes, preparing to taste him.

When your thin fangs sank into the flesh, Alastor gave a sigh. He didn't feel pain, just a quick prick and then a wave of pleasure, as you let your venom slip down your fangs into his vein. It took away the pain and affected your victims like a drug, making them want to give you more of them.

You kept your teeth inside of him for a few seconds, slightly rocking your head to make the holes from your bite wider. You slightly raised your head, but before Alastor could take his arm away, you pressed your mouth against the wound and began to suck. Your one hand grabbed his wrist, while the other one grabbed his shoulder.

You pressed your lips against the wound, sucking and swallowing his hot blood. It was a tad bitter and visсit, but still the taste was beyond all of your expectations, making you slightly moan against his skin.

When the first drops of blood splashed onto your tongue, you thought you would lose control, though these were the first drops of blood for the first time in several days and the most delicious you’ve ever tasted. You grabbed onto his arm, trying to keep yourself from biting deeper into his veins. You drank blood greedily, and despite its thickness it flowed into your throat easily. You held it in your mouth, basked your tongue in it, enjoying the unique taste astringent like alcohol. Venous blood is always more bitter than arterial one, but his blood had some other tint. This taste drove you crazy. Each drip of him had to be yours.

Alastor watched you closing to him, heard you softly moaning with pleasure, as if you were trying a delicious dish. To stay focused on your beautiful hair falling in heavy waves like curtains became struggling, as his thoughts became fuzzy. He felt his hand go numb, your lips pressed against his skin tighter and tighter.

A clawed hand harshly grabbed you by your hair and pulled back. A dark liquid dropped from your fangs on his hand and the bed, as Alastor tugged you back. Your teeth tore the tender skin of his forearm, and dark red drops stained the sheets. You swallowed the blood in your mouth, still being seized in Alastor's grip. Your eyes met Alastor’s and you gave him your sweetest smile. Your poison didn't work on him so easily. Of course, he was too powerful overlord for becoming a vampire's dish just after one drop of toxin.

His blood glistened on your white fangs, evoking strange envy in him. You had a taste of him, slaked your thirst even just a little, and he wanted the same. But he felt a tad dizzy and suspected that your fangs could produce something venomous that you instilled by drops in his vein. Naughty girl, how could you poison him? And you thought he wouldn't notice? How naive of you.

He grabbed your jaw roughly, when you tried to move closer to his forearm, “Ah ah ah. Not all at once, sweetheart,” He leaned to you, still holding your hair, “A bite for a bite,” He whispered against your wet lips and threw you on the mattress.

Shadowy tentacles squeezed your hands and held them on the sides of your head. Alastor leaned over you, pressing his weight against you, taking away any chance for you to make any move. He licked his lips, staring at your bare neck. Luckily for him, today you wore a strapless short black dress. He leaned so slowly to you, saying in low, “Let me just have a taste…”, and his long tongue slowly glided over your collarbone. It was hot, but the wet trails it left made you understand how cold the air around you was. His tongue went up your neck, then under your jaw and came back to where it started its trip.

Suddenly you felt sharp pain, as Alastor buried his sharp teeth in the curve between your neck and shoulder. You whined and arched your back, but he pinned you to the mattress, gripping you by your shoulders. His teeth were merciless compared to the fangs of a vampire. Your fangs were thin as needles, they sank into your victim easily, gently parting their flesh. Caressing the hands, back or temples of your victims, you made them forget about the pain, plus your intoxicating saliva. They surrendered to death with pleasure.

Alastor was rough. His bite gave you nothing but pain, and tears formed in your eyes. You wriggled under him, but he pressed you firmer against the bed. Harshly his teeth left you, and something wet and smooth touched your skin.

Alastor licked your sweet blood and salty sweat like an animal treating a wound of its mate. His tongue left bloody traces on the unwounded parts of your skin, and he licked them clean too. Every touch of his wet muscle brought you shiver. You tilted your head, giving Alastor more place to bite and lick, and rewarding yourself with his growl against your neck, “Good. Very good.” He wasn’t wrong. Your blood was the most delectable thing that’d touched his tongue. Sweet at first lick and bitter in aftertaste like dark chocolate.

The tip of his tongue went up your carotid, and he closed his eyes, feeling your pulse. You held your breath. If he wanted to, he could end your sinful afterlife right this moment, he could take his demon form and consume you with just one bite.

Your flesh is stuck in his teeth, your blood trickles down from the corner of his mouth, he licks his fingertips soaked with your juices, his eyes tracing all over your destroyed body in a search of untouched place…

The sinful delusion caused heat between your legs. Damn, could you be aroused in one step (bite) from death? Well... Why not? That was what you made your victims feel like, sucking their last drops of blood, as you poisoned them. No wonder the man whose taste you dreamt of since the day you met roused such feelings in you.

Alastor raised his head, making you sigh in relief. He licked away your tears, placing gentle pecks in the corner of your eyes.

Alastor straightened himself when the last drop of blood was licked away and you stopped bleeding. You were slightly dizzy. He drank much more blood than you did, and you were angry with this. You still were hungry and weak, and he made you even weaker. Alastor held you by your wrists, you hadn’t noticed when his tentacles disappeared. He looked down at you, admiring the marks he left on you. The sight of your own blood dripping down his chin, falling on your tights, made your heartbeat go faster.

With a seductive smile Alastor leaned over you again and loosened his bowtie with one hand. He undone several buttons of his shirt just enough to expose his neck and thin collarbone. His scent hit your nose, watering your mouth, you could see how his carotid artery pulsed in a rhythm that accompanied your own heartbeat. Your fangs grew bigger when he whispered, “How thirsty, how impatient you are, darling. You're even drooling,” With a dark chuckle he let his two fingers slide into your mouth, and you gasped in surprise. He cut his digits against your lower incisors, and you greedily licked the little drops from your teeth and captured his fingers with your lips. The tip of your tongue played with his fingertips, and you didn't mind when your tongue bled from the contact with his claws. You were so hungry and felt fuzzily, so you could accept a little act of self-cannibalism. 

Your fangs carved his fingers up again, and with a pop his fingers left your oral, making you frown displeased. Alastor stuck out his tongue, and you finally saw that inhumanly long red muscle, that turned you weaker than you even were. He licked his fingers red with yours and his blood, not taking his eyes from you. Oh, you wished you could taste this cocktail too. Though you poisoned Alastor, you felt like it was he who infected you.

“Alastor… need it.. Please…” Your voice was weak, the hunger teased with those few drops of his and your blood drove you insane, and you fought with your desire to assault him.

“I know, darling, I know.” He didn't move, still sitting atop and grinning down at you. Reckless girl. He came to you to help, voluntarily, but instead of taking what he gave you gladly and patiently, you drugged him with your venom like one of your prey. No, he wouldn't let you take it anymore. At least, not so easily.

“Alastor…” You pleaded, but he just slowly shook his head. The red light pouring down from the window illuminated his silhouette like an ominous halo. “Mm-mm. Darling, you're ungrateful. I was kind to you, and how did you treat me?” His claw slowly traced down from your chest to your belly, “With poison?” He felt how your venom ran through his veins. You ran through his vein, arousing foreign feeling in him. He felt like his mind was out from his shelf, hovering somewhere above, felt how his skin got warmer and his pulse became faster. How he hated you for infecting his mind, making him less conscious. And what was worse… Your bloody venom affected not only his mind but his body too. At least, he hoped it was because of the venom.

He could tear you apart right in your bed, drink all of your sweet blood, eat your tender meat up, and he knew some could even thank him for this. But watching you shifting your hips, rubbing your thighs against each other, he thought there would be no fun in a simple murdering of you. The sigh of your wet eyes looked so pleading and your weak voice made him think that he was not the only one under the spell. Could it be possible? Perhaps, the little of his blood made you so anticipating. This thought brought a wide predatory smile on his face. No, he wouldn’t end you, he’d rather make you face the consequences in a way suitable for a greedy little thing like you.

Your doe eyes filled with fear and then regret, “I-I'm sorry, Alastor... Sorry, I won't drug you again, I promise…” Your next mumbling confirmed his decision, “F-feed me… Alastor, please… feed me, I’ll be good…” Your plea was sweet and pitiful. But not enough.

Alastor leaned closer, ruby eyes half-lidded, lightening your face with red, “You can do better than that.”

“I-I beg you, Alastor… I need… you..?” He cocked a brow at you questioningly. Your throat was dry and you swallowed, “Only your blood is good, only you're so good, Alastor, I beg you,” Your eyes flashed and fangs grew bigger, but seeing how he leaned back from you, you bit your lower lip to blood, “Beg you, Alastor, let me have a little more of you.”

You were begging him? That was delicious indeed.

“See? That's not so hard to be a good vamp, dear.” You moaned with anticipation, your hands grabbing the edges of Alastor's shirt, not letting him go far from you. “Now now, dear, here's your treat.”

With the click of his fingers the candles near your bed lightened up, making the atmosphere in the room more gloomy but intimate. Weak flames shone in the eyes of you both, and you could see your own reflection in his widened pupils. Alastor’s face was two inches from yours, you slightly lifted your head just enough to brush your lips against his, and he captured your mouth.

The kiss was greedy, predatory, the kiss of two creatures wanting nothing more but to devour each other completely. His long tongue immediately went past your lips, going deeper than you expected, and brushing against your soft palate forward and back, making you moan in a mixture of fear and pleasure. Alastor showed plainly that he could eat you up right now. You bit into his lower lip, making him groan in your mouth, and causing a few savoury drops to fall into your oral. You held his face in your palms, and he held you by your neck with one hand and the one was on your crown.

Gaspingly you broke away from each other and stared at wonder. Alastor swallowed audibly, a thin stream of saliva mixed with blood trickled down his chin. You knew your mouth was in the same messy state, and you licked your lips still hot with his blood. Both of you smiled at the work made with your fangs and tongues.

Alastor leaned slowly, and the curve of his neck appeared just in front of your sharp teeth. He pronounced in law with a slightly trembling voice, “Ahh. Do it, dear. Now.”

But you didn't bite. His carotid artery pumped so near against your lips, you felt the heat of his body, his scent so strong and tempting. It was the smell of dirt and blood with a subtle pine scent.

You tilted your head away from the artery. You wouldn't bite here. It could be fatal.

Instead of biting you grazed his skin up with your fangs, avoiding all dangerous places and letting his blood spill without any harm for him. Alastor sighted when your soft tongue ran up against his throat. You did it slowlier than him, not spreading blood all over his skin, but licking clean, tilting your head up and down whilst your tongue caressed his skin.

“Mmm… Ah! Darling, it's tickling!” He said, when the tip of your tongue drew circles around the slit under his chin, collecting the red drops.

“Most people think we bite at the neck, but this bite is fatal,” You whispered against his skin. You slowly unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, and ran your fingers across his torso. The touch of your fingertips to his skin sent thrumming static from his chest that vibrated through your own body. “There's another lovely place to bite.”

You rolled over and changed the position, now you sat atop his pelvis, feeling how he swelled between his legs. You didn't take your eyes away from him, and he watched you going lower with your hands drawing circles around his chest, ribs, belly. You lay your palm on the middle of his chest and slightly left and felt his palpitation. It was beating like the bass drum, loud and hard. A melody you would choose to listen to forever. 

Tenderly you left a kiss against the place where his heart was beating, after the second kiss you felt his throb became uneven, and you looked up. Alastor looked at you with a strained smile, his eyebrow knitted and gaze was full of doubts. “Even without venom it won't hurt, I promise.” He still kept his eyes on you, when you slowly sank your fangs into his flesh, sending him a vision to relax in your grab.

You keep your fangs inside him for a while and slowly take them out with a deep sigh. Looking straight into his eyes, you come down slowly, tracing your fingertips along his body, and making him shift slightly under your touches. Alastor swallows, watching you undoing the belt and the buttons on his trousers. The rustle of cloth seems unrealistically loud. Your little palm releases his twitching cock, and he can’t help but tilt his head in admiration, seeing how small you seem now, when your fingers can barely close down around his organ. The dim red lights in the room barely illuminate your face, and it seems to Alastor some of the lights are dancing right in the air as fireflies. You bring your face closer to his cock and touch his tip dribbling with precum against your soft lips. Your eyes don’t leave his face, when you place tender kisses on the top of his member over and over again. Your cold fingers get warmer because of his own heat.

Alastor watches you pressing his cock to your soft cheek and tilting your head down, until your nose is buried in his pubic hair. He sighs, seeing your blush and feeling with his skin how your cold cheeks become warmer in shame. Then you lick upward with your tongue, causing a shiver down his spine, and when you come back to the tip, you wrap your tongue around his length, moving your head down. Your devilish tongue is long and strong enough to reach to the middle of his cock and to squeeze it, making Alastor hiss and claw the sheets, “Ahh.. Right. Take it, darling.”

Your flashing with lust eyes are still on him, when your thin fingers come to his balls, caressing them, while your opened mouth goes down along his organ. He wishes you'd put it already in your little mouth, but you always delay the moment, whetting his appetite.

You capture his balls one by one into your mouth and slightly suck, moaning. Alastor throws his head back, whispering your name, when you begin to stroke his cock in your palm. Your forefingers appear on his wet tip and draw circles around it, causing more white drops to dribble down. He aches, wanting to grab you by your hair and force you to take him whole already, but he only clutches tighter at the sheets.

The darkness seems to become denser as the hell's sun begins to hide behind the horizon, letting a pentagrammed moon take its place; the candles flash brighter, turning into blurred flares, as if he sees them through the fog. Two bright flames of your eyes turn out to be the only clear lights in the room, and he focuses his gaze on them. You softly moan and with a loud pop remove your mouth from his balls, bringing your face near your hand which holds his cock. The sight of you licking and biting your red glistening lips, as you watch how his dick moistens your fingers, makes his mind fuzzy. But the undoubted feeling of being touched, the realistic sigh of you and your hunger mixed with lust, chase away the thoughts that it was only a dream. You promised him not to use the venom again, and he believed you, because he hoped you were not so silly and reckless as to disobey him. And because he wanted you to take him. Maybe it was because of that venom, maybe not, but it was indubitable that he wanted you, and he wanted you to want him. So he would do anything to arouse your desire for him. He'd let you drink as much blood as you need, let you play with his body as you wish, let you suck his cock as you want it. Anything to satisfy your hunger.

And as you slowly bring your pretty mouth to his cock, as his tip lies on your tongue, as you embrace his length with your lips and go down so slowly, he closes his eyes in a bliss.

He feels the back of your throat and groans, his hand is on your crown and strokes your head, as you’re keeping to take him deeper. He throws his head back with a growl when you take him whole, and your nose’s buried in his hair again whilst his balls bump against your chin. You stay in this position without moving, and he can see only your crown and the pomegranate light pouring down from the windows on your back. Alastor begins to thrust slightly at the beginning, accelerating gradually, and you moan with his cock in your mouth. You begin to bob your head up and down his length, adjusting to his rhythm. Your tongue wraps around him, and your fingers caress the sensitive skin of his thighs.

“Ahhh, fuck!” The sound of static fills the room when he curses, as your fang accidentally touches his skin. He’s impatient, he wants you to taste different parts of him, to swallow not only his blood, so he shoves faster. And when he feels he’s coming closer, he pulls your head down, causing a whine from you, and doesn’t let you move. He makes several slow thrusts, his tip touches the deeper parts of your throat, and he hears another whimper from you, as you try to take the air through your nose and relax your throat. 

“Just a little more, dear, relax…”

With a final slow thrust he comes, and both of you moan: you, feeling a different intimate taste of him, and he, drowning in pleasure with a long-awaited release.

Both of you’ve satisfied your hunger.

Hot blood was pouring into your mouth as from a tap and you only managed to swallow. Alastor lay still under you, his breath was slowly and with every deep sight the crackling of static brushed your hearing. He didn't try to evade your bite, moreover he put his palm on your crown, pressing you closer and preventing you from taking your mouth away from him. Your hypnosis worked, it helped him to relax, to accept your desire as it was his and infected him with the same hunger. His fingers brushed your hair and scratched your scalp, he whispered “good” and called you “love”, when suddenly he became louder and more active. His hips moved in slow motions, bumping against your thighs. What was he dreaming through? You only knew your hypnosis could show something pleasant, so people you bite wouldn't fight against you. You guessed sometimes they could see something seductive, as their blood ran faster into your mouth, but you'd never seen such a reaction. Alastor was loud under your touches and sucks, and it seemed that the delusion you made him see, became more realistic in his mind. His curses and moans became louder, making you blush as you never thought that the radio demon could let such lewd noises escape his mouth. And when his blood ran faster through the two tiny holes you'd made, and you felt his hardness between your legs. You understood that the lecherous mirage came to its acme and would end soon.

These new sucks of blood were matchless, simply better than anything you'd tasted before. Just sprinkling on your tongue, this rich and bitter taste watered your mouth. Tasting his blood would become your new obsession. The heavy breath reaching your ears, blood you swallowed, his movements and mumble of nothings raised your feeling of euphoria, making the laughter escape your mouth.

You looked down at the hell's overlord moaning your name in the most obscene ways and thrusting his hips against your clothed core, and you felt you’d already become wet. His blood assuaged your hunger and thirst, but not your desire. Now a different type of hunger had assaulted you.

Alastor now lay still, with trembling eyelids and panting. The vision ended, and soon he’d open his eyes, realising that what he saw was a hallucination you’d sent. You couldn't let it happen, he couldn't know that you tricked him again.

You slipped down to his knees and undid his trousers, releasing his aching cock from the cloth. It appeared bigger than you thought, and you swallowed, when a scent reached your nostrils. The tint of his skin here was the same greyish colour as the most of his body, excepting the tip that had the deep black shade. Slick and smooth; only your middle finger could hardly touch your thumb when you wrapped your fingers around it, sliding your palm down and up. The hallucination had already made him so hard and ready, that you were afraid he'd come earlier than you brought him to your mouth. The sight of that thick vein pulsing under your fingertips couldn't escape from your gaze though you were full, so firstly you placed the tip of your tongue there.

Alastor opened his eyes and felt a caress below. Hadn’t it all ended?

He rose up on his elbows and looked down. Oh, you still were there, devouring him but now in a more innocent way, if such a word could be used in this situation. Your eyes were closed, and you left quick tender kisses all over his length; on his tip you slightly sucked in; going down, you stuck the edge of your tongue and licked his dick; descenting to the base of his cock you brushed your nose against his skin and breathed in his scent.

The scent drove you insane. It differed from what you inhaled around his neck before, this one was more savoury, and you couldn't help but take deeper breaths every time as you came down. But not only his scent. Placing kisses and licking his twitching cock, you appraised new taste. It didn't provoke your hunger, but made you feel heat between your thighs and hastened your heartbeat.

The black pulsing tip appeared between your plush lips again, and you felt a gaze on you. Looking up, you saw Alastor, eyeing at you. He covered his exposed fangs with his palm, but you saw through his fingers how long and crooked his smile was. Your heartbeat became faster, when you noticed how blood from the slit on his neck was still dribbling down his chest, belly and lower part of his abdomen, how this fluid red thread came closer to the organ now settled between your lips.

You let his cock slip past your soft lips, and you had to open your mouth wider to not hurt his sensitive organ with your sharp teeth. You moaned, sucking his cock and savouring the new taste. It was salty and musky, close to the smell swimming in the air you were breathing with now. The taste so unusual sent a quiver through your body and made you dizzy as if you were feverish.

The huge palm with long red claws cupped your cheek gently, and then it traced up to your crown. Alastor held his eyes on you, still covering his mouth, and now he bit into the knuckle of his thumb, fighting back a rude desire. His ears were pressed back to his scalp, hair slightly tousled, his grin was wicked and blood with saliva dripped down his fist. He seemed pleading and angry at the same time, and you would be a liar if you said you didn't like him like this.

The wax trickled down from the candles on the floor, whilst you licked up every salty drop of your tonight lover, the wind trembled the curtains and fanned your perspiring back, making your shiver in coolness of night, and every sound of trembling velvet drowned in the rustling static of Alastor’s hard breath. You bobbed your head up and down, up and down, and every slope was lower than previous. His warm palm caressed your cheek, sending a vibration through your body, then it slowly went upward, brushing your temple and forehead, until his long fingers buried in your hair to tug you up, so only the tip of his cock grazed your tongue and lips. 

You looked into each other's eyes. Your gazes pierced into your souls, facing only desire and greed. Two unsatisfied bloodlust creatures, yearning for something that was forbidden for both of you, and now found the way to satisfy your appetite.

You moaned with impatience against his dewy member, the want to lick him clear, to collect every drip of seed and blood and saliva that dribbled from his mouth now, was too strong, but he held you firmly, and you could only patiently wait for his command.

You wanted to plead “please”, but the moment when your lips touched his aching cock to pronounce the first letter of the word, he harshly pushed you down. As a muted whimper of you clanged in the dark bedroom, Alastor groaned, pressing you down to the base of his cock, as his seed flowed down your throat. You rolled your eyes back and moaned, letting the liquid glide down, subduing your desire.

“Ahh- ah! Ah, d-darling!” His palm slid to the nape of your neck, and you could finally make a move.

Alastor slightly started when you didn't let go of his member but went down once more again and again. Your eyes flashed in a different hue of bright pink, which he hadn't witnessed before, you were bobbing your head, sucking his semen and fondling his length with your small palm, which barely ringed round his member just like in his dream.

His dream?

You slipped his cock out of your mouth, a sticky white threat chained your lips and the tip of his organ. You caught it with your tongue and sent it into your pretty mouth. You kept your eyes on Alastor, licking your hand clean and sucking out what was under your claws, the prurient sound you made when you did this caused rose on his cheeks.

Your raspberry red tongue cleaned his length with several long slow licks and touched his abdomen. Slowly you began to crawl up with your opened mouth pressed against his skin. You felt him quivering under your lips as you went higher, wiping the remaining red liquid.

“Is this how you treat your every victim?” You heard soft static brushing your ears.

“No. Only you.” You whispered, glancing at him. Alastor finally seemed calm, you felt his muscles relaxed under your fingertips, he closed his lips in a soft smile, and looked at you from half closed eyes. Was it his release or a satisfied desire you didn’t know.

The air he evenly breathed out fanned your crown, when you put your head on his chest. You lay on him, bending your knees, so your legs embraced him by his sides, and you knew Alastor could feel with his bare skin what he had done with you even without touching you there. You wanted to continue and by the way Alastor's fingers drew lines around your skin, where the skirt of your dress rode up, you guessed he shared your need. But he was too exhausted. The venom, the hallucination, the orgasm, the blood he lost, all of this was too much for one night. And though your heart still palpitated too fast after all that sampled, you would give him rest. He gave you much more than you expected when he came to your bedroom.

The last candles burnt down, plunging you into the darkness. The light of the moon illuminated your bed, falling on you and Alastor. Several drops of blood were still present on his lips, you gave him a soft peck, and Alastor kissed you back weakly but tenderly.

“I won't leave this place," You whispered into his mouth.

“Of course not, darling. I won't let a sweet thing like you wander in hell all alone, and I won't let anything foul get into this lovely mouth of yours.”

You chuckled, burying your face in his chest. You were happy and grateful to know that finally someone didn't judge you but even helped you. But what else could you except from a demon like him? Why didn't you even try to ask him before? Perhaps, you were not sure he would let anyone take a piece of him into their stomach. It was too intimate.

But now...

You slightly lifted your head and asked with a mischievous smile, “Does that mean only you will feed me?”

“Why yes, my dear!" The words sounded cheerful and serious at the same time, "Since this night you can receive my blood only, and I will be the only one who'll receive yours. It's a deal, darling.”

“What? We didn't make a deal! We didn't even shake hands!”

“Sweetest,” He grabbed you by your chin, making you look straight into his eyes, “We drank each other's blood. That's more serious and intimate than shaking hands, don't you think?” His thumb slipped a red droplet into your mouth, and you nodded assent, chewing his digit, “I already have you inside of me, and you have me.”

You were bonded now. Alastor didn't offer you a deal, it wasn't necessary, he knew you both would come back to each other to satisfy another greedy desire. And you both were ready to give anything in return just for a single bite. No deal would have such power as the obsession that had taken hold of you.

You listened to his calm breath and heartbeat and thought. You sent him a hallucination, and this hallucination made him see… an interesting thing. And that thing developed into something more interesting. Did he really think this way of you? Did he really want not just your blood, but your body too? and would he like to have your soul? Oh, you were ready to give him everything if he asked. Blood, pain, soul, screams, body, love, hate. Even for free. What he gave you to taste was a worth price for your service to him.

And only the desirous part of you, the night, vampiric, ravening part of you, couldn't accept just an hour of pleasure. This part would not just take but give more to receive more in praise.

“If you want to know, the effect of the venom's over,” You said suddenly.

“Yes, I can feel it, dear,” He pronounced, gazing at you.

Why did you even say it? You wanted to be honest with him? But why? You'd never found it difficult to lie or to keep back, but now you felt uncomfortable, hiding the truth from the man in front of you. His look was sharp, and you knew Alastor wasn't the one who forgives liars (even if he himself wasn’t always frank). But not the consequences frightened you. You just didn't want to hide something from him. His red eyes and their rozy gleam hypnotised you, piercing into your soul. How could you lie, looking in these eyes?

“Darling, you better be veracious with me,” His grip on your hips tightened, and you gasped when his claws sank deeper into you soft skin. “Or do you want me to pull the truth out from you?” His razor-like teeth dangerously flashed in the darkness.

“Uh, no!” You nervously chuckled, rubbing the back of your neck before confessing him, “Well, when I bit you, you were very tensioned, and to help you to relax I… I made you see kind of a daydream, a vision.”

“A vision?” He tilted his head, smiling wider. Why did he look like he'd already known everything and just wanted to see you ashamed of your actions?

“Yes, a vision, but! I only made your mind see something you wanted to see, I couldn't influence your vision.” You added it, considering it was important to mention that you wern't responsible for the erotic scenes Alastor saw. But he wasn't impressed with your revelation.

“That is, you are not to blame for what I saw.”

You slowly nodded.

“Interesting.”

Suddenly the room was lit up by candlelight that appeared out of nowhere. The bedroom was illuminated brighter than before with black waxed candles, and now you could clearly see each other in the uneven orange glow.

Alastor lovingly tucked a lock of your hair by your ear, his thumb caressed your cheek. He brought your face closer to him, and you whispered as your voice failed you, “Don't you need a break..? You've lost so much blood-”

“What a nonsense, dear!” He purred into your ear, stroking your back. Shiver ran down your spine, when he pronounced, “The night has just begun!”

The sharp teeth sank into your neck.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･ ｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

@totespferd i know you've been waiting for this <3

author's note: i'm still learning to write this genre, and i hope it was not so bad, as my brain tries to convince me, and i'm ready to take advices ^_^

also! i wrote it, listening to the soundtracks of "only lovers left alive" (adore this movie), and i wrote the smut part whilst listening to the "sexual hallucinations" by in this moment (i fucking love maria brink), so you can listen to it too, it's a good horny song and suits well to the fic ( ͡ _ ͡°)ﾉ♡♡

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

✨️Bodhi durran ✨️ that's it.

BUT ALSO

Imagine him being the most amazing boyfriend. I don't know if you have seen lockwood and co on Netflix but that scene where lockwood dresses Lucy's wounds and is looking dead ass deep in her soul smiling, my god bodhi material.

To get to my point if you could write a one shot of bodhi finding out you're injured and going ballistic to anyone that let her out of their sight and got hurt and then finding you trying to wrap your wounds and instantly going all soft and helping I would be forever in your debt

Ps. If you haven't watched lockwod and co it's absolutely worth it.

I haven't watched the show so if this isn't exactly how you pictured this, I apologize✨🤍

Worries

"Where is she?", Bodhi yanked onto one of the recruits, who was in the same formation as you, shirt up. The poor lad looked like he was about to shit himself at best as he stumbled over words. The thing was... Bodhi was fun and games until he wasn't. And that wasn't part come a lot sooner than expected. Considering that the past weeks of him being a section leader had been rather calm. But that sorry fuck just had to show off. Had to break formation. Had to try to prove his piss poor ego and get you hurt.

"You're speechless all of a sudden?", Bodhi shook the guy in his grip, "Answer the goddamn question before you end up like a roasted chicken on the solstice table". You could hear a pin dropping in the background that's how silent the squad had gotten. "I think I saw her entering the building", some other recruit cut in. Bodhi narrowed his eyes, "You think or you saw?", shoving the quivering male he stepped aside sizing everyone up.

"You weak shits better listen and better listen well", he practically growled through gritted teeth. His first instinct was to run after you. He saw the blood gushing from your hand after the coalition. But he also knew his title. Causing a bigger scene than necessary would only turn heads your way. And neither of you needed that. Neither of you wanted to become a target leading to one another. "If any of you will ever do anything similar to what Marco did today", Bodhi grunted. Gods, he felt like Xaden. "I will skin you myself and believe me your dragons will smoke you alive. Dismissed", he practically roared as the recruits hurried away. Bodhi ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair.

"She is up in your room", the voice made Bodhi jolt slightly. Garrick was leaning against one of the pillars. "I passed her, she's fine, man", Garrick continued to speak since Bodhi just stood there, "You did well here too. More and more like our beloved Xaden every day". He knew it was a dig. The two cousins had been compared ever since their interactions were brought to the daylight. "Why don't you go fuck yourself", Bodhi grunted as he walked past his friend. "Gets boring after a while", Garrick chirped in return. Bodhi simply snarled but that of course earned a satisfied chuckle from Garrick.

"Show it to me", the sudden bag of the door practically hitting the wall and the raised voice made you drop the blood-soaked rag. You knew Bodhi was gonna find you eventually. Your dragon was practically counting the minutes for you ever since you had flown back first and dismounted. "Bodhi, it's okay", you tried to keep your voice calm. The wound wasn't all that bad it was the angle and the damaged tissue of the skin that caused it to bleed so much. "Don't you it's okay, me", he grunted, "Show me", his voice was lethal low. He never used that tone with you. It was his section leader's voice. The voice he gave a report in. But it never was showcased around the people he trusted and cared for.

"There's nothing to look at it's...", "I didn't ask, I gave you an order", he cut in, grabbing your upper arm gently so he could look at the damage himself. Bodhi's eyebrows knitted together for a moment, his jaw flexed. "Sit", he muttered motioning towards the bed. "Bodhi", you breathed out. "Baby, I swear to everything holy to me", he exhaled a shaky breath, "you either sit or I am carrying to the healer's wing and will put you on bed rest for a week". You huffed at his threat but you knew that he wasn't bluffing so you followed his orders.

Bodhi was so gentle as he carefully wiped away some of the blood before pressing a clean bandage on your cut, securing it in place. Make sure it's tight for a couple of hours before the bleeding slows down. He would redo it in a couple of hours. Wash it off with a salve he would go ask for. Then another bandage. Then... "Bodhi, I can hear you making plans in your head", you muttered. It was cute watching him fuss at times. It was his way of showing love but you also knew that his head was a wild space and it only took one bad thought to have it all spiraling out of control. "Does it hurt a lot? Do you need something for the pain?", he asked, his concerned eyes searching yours. "Start by giving me a hug and then sit down with me", you said softly, "I promise, I'm fine". You reached out for him, taking his hand into yours, squeezing it.

"I just hate seeing you hurt", Bodhi breathed out, his shoulders drooping. "The feeling is mutual but there are times we can't do anything about it", you reached to run your fingers through his messy curls. That now was completely out of control since he no doubt had been pulling at them. "Do we have a murder scene in the backyard?", you nudged your boyfriend's shoulder, making him snort. "Not yet but we might...", Bodhi exhaled, turning to face you.

"You promise you're okay?", you met his worried gaze but this time instead of answering him you just leaned in and kissed him. Slowly and tenderly. Letting him feel your love. "Good enough proof?", you asked when you two finally broke apart. "Not sure... maybe a couple more kisses", Bodhi thoughtfully nodded his head. You giggled slightly before cupping his face once more.

[once-upon-an-imagine]

Absolutely - Spencer Reid

A/N: I have absolutely NO idea where this came from and I know nobody asked for it but here it is xD number two of the story winners :) depending on how this story goes I might reopen the Criminal Minds fandom :D and I also want to thank @mycobrakai1972​ so much for your help, love :) 

Warnings: Spencer being an asshole (so he may be a bit OOC and it’s just in the beginning, but he apologizes :D) the reader stutters when she’s nervous and I think that’s it but always please let me know if I missed anything!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Criminal Minds :D gif isn’t mine :)  

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Absolutely 

This is the story of a girl Who cried a river and drowned the whole world And while she looks so sad in photographs I absolutely love her... when she smiles

It had all started as a shitty day.

"Good morning, Spencer" you smiled when he walked inside the break room.

"Morning" he replied, grumpily, making his way over to the coffee maker.

"Are you okay?" you asked, worried. It wasn't like Spencer to come in late. And you knew that if he was late, most likely he hadn't had breakfast. And you knew that if he hadn't had breakfast, it meant he had a headache.

"Yeah, I just have a headache" he confirmed your suspicion, pouring his coffee with sugar.

"Um... maybe you should eat something instead?" you suggested, knowing by experience that coffee would only make the headache worse and wondering if this was something that he should know, being a genius and all, or he simply didn't care. "I brought some banana muffins if you'd like one" you offered, grabbing the plate of muffins.

"I'm not hungry, thanks" he muttered, ignoring the grumble on his stomach. He loved your banana muffins.

"Oh, okay" you said, making Spencer feel slightly bad when your smile dropped. He had never declined one from you. "I also have some aspirin on my desk if you need-"

"I'm fine" he smiled firmly at you.

"Um, wait" you said before he could leave. You felt a little bad when you heard him sigh frustrated, but you still tried to smile at him. "Sorry, um... would you mind getting my mug down for me? Please?" you asked, pointing at the top shelf where he saw your mug. Spencer didn't say anything, but he placed his mug on the counter before he reached for yours and handed it to you.

"Why do you always put it on the top shelf?" he asked annoyed, not really waiting for a response as he left the room before you could even tell him it wasn't you who put it there or before you could even thank him.

You sighed, making yourself some coffee before you walked over to your desk, next to Spencer. He silently watched you offer the banana muffins to Derek, in front of you, and the rest of the team quickly came to get one. He heard his stomach grumble again. He didn't know why he had turned you down. He just wasn't in a good mood and really didn't want you to see him that way. He brushed it off, thinking maybe he could get one from you later, once his headache was over. Which was obviously getting worse with his coffee. But he knew it would pass.

Except it didn't. It had to be one of those long, horrible days filled with nothing else than boring paperwork. Morgan came over every ten minutes to go over something on his paperwork when Spencer fully knew it was because he wanted him to do it for him. He was too tired and fatigued to argue with him, so he would just correct what was needed and hand it back to him.

"Thanks, kid" Derek smiled, walking away from him. He had noticed you looking at him from time to time, but you quickly looked away when you were caught. "Hey, pretty girl" Spencer saw Derek walk over to you. "Is it okay if I take the last muffin?" he asked, pointing at the plate that only had one muffin left.

Spencer felt his leg shaking. He wanted to walk over there and said he didn't get a muffin earlier (skipping the part of you offering them to him before anyone else) and grab that last muffin. But he didn't. He saw you looking at him and he quickly went back to his work.

"Um... sure" he heard you say shyly as you looked back at Derek. "I don't think anyone else wants it" you replied.

"Thanks, doll. You're the best!" Morgan said, grabbing it, and walking away to the break room.

By lunchtime, everyone had picked up on Spencer's foul mood and had been avoiding him like the plague. It was unusual for the young genius to be so grumpy. But you imagined that him being late and disrupting his entire routine, not having had anything to eat, having a headache, and having to fix Morgan's mistakes, he was bound to explode at some point. Which is why everyone seemed to be tip-toeing around him.

When Penelope asked if you wanted to come to lunch with her and Morgan, you declined, saying that you were behind on your paperwork, which was a lie. You were almost done, and you wanted to help Reid with his since, you noticed he was actually behind, which was another odd thing to happen. But you could tell he wasn't being able to concentrate since he would press his hand to his forehead every few minutes, which meant his headache was getting worse. Once the bullpen was empty, you carefully approached Spencer and placed your hand on his shoulder, making him jump on his chair.

"Sorry, sorry, I... didn't mean to scare you" you apologized. "I just... wanted to know if you... um-"

"Yes?" he asked annoyed.

It was like you were delaying him on purpose. But in your head, this was your chance to get him to go to lunch with you. And maybe he could eat something, relax and you can give him the surprise you had brought for him.

"Would you want to go to have lunch with me? I n-noticed you haven't eaten anything a-and-"

"I can't. I need to finish this" he simply said, feeling even worse because of how deflated you became.

"Oh, well, I'm a-almost done with mine. I can help you i-if you'd like and just grab some sandwiches from-"

"That's okay. I can handle it" he told you.

"Oh, I d-didn't mean that-"

"Seriously, you should just go to lunch" he said, looking at you in a way he hadn't before. You felt a small pain in your heart and you decided to drop it.

"Um... o-okay" you said nervously. You walked over to your desk and opened your first drawer to take out a package of cookies. You at least had to try to get some food in him. "Hey, Spence, did you know that Fig Newtons are named after a town in Massachusetts and not after the scientist?" you asked with a small smile, walking back to him. Your smile instantly fell when he glared at you. He actually glared at you.

"Yes, I knew that" he lied. That was probably one of the very few things he didn't know. And he actually found it really interesting.

"Oh" you chuckled sadly. Of course, he knew. He's a fucking genius. "I just... thought it was an interesting fact" you muttered, placing the cookies on his desk. "Take a break and eat something, okay?"

You were gone before he could say anything else. Leaving him alone with the package of cookies in his hand.

The day was almost over. This was going to be your best opportunity. You opened your bottom drawer and saw the neatly wrapped book you had gotten for Spencer. He had barely acknowledged you for the rest of your shift. And now, that everyone else was gone, it was your last chance.

You saw Spencer coming back from the breakroom with his probably fifth cup of coffee and you noticed he didn't even wave goodbye to Emily and JJ who were just leaving. You took a deep breath and tried to convince yourself that this was still a good idea. You grabbed the gift, stood up, and slowly made your way towards his desk.

"Hey, uh, Spence-?" You startled him, making him jump a little and his coffee got on his shirt and some of the papers that he was working on. "Oh, my God! I'm so sorry, I-"

"What? What could you possibly need now?" he snapped, not even looking at you as he grabbed some napkins to clean himself and his desk up.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Oh no, of course you didn't. This is just classic of you. I mean, things just sort of happen around you and it's never your fault" he said, upset.

"S-Spencer, I get that you're upset, b-but I was just t-trying to-"

"Do you? Do you really get it because it doesn't seem that way! You have tried to annoy me all day!" he said, making your heart break into a million pieces. Spencer had never talked to you like this, or anyone else for that matter. His voice was full of anger. "Everyone else seemed to notice that I just wasn't in the mood to talk, but not you. Of course, you would still be here, trying to get my attention on something! You were really too much today! I just wanted to be left alone but you refused to just give me some peace! You can't just take a hint when you're being a lot, can you?"

The second the words left Spencer's mouth he felt like complete shit. He had no right to talk to you like that. Especially when you had tried all day to be nothing but nice to him. And when he turned around to face you and was ready to apologize, his heart shattered into a million pieces when he saw the wrapped present in your hands. You remembered. He was certain that everyone had forgotten. But not you. And he had just yelled at you. The look in your eyes was so broken, if anyone else had spoken to you that way, he would instantly want them dead. But it had been him. He had caused you that pain. Spencer could swear he saw the second the light in your eyes stopped. The light that was always there when you looked at him and now it was shut down. And it was all his fault.

"I j-just... uh-" you stuttered, something that Spencer hadn't seen you do in a very long time. "I w-was g-going to ask if you uh- n-nevermind" you said, quickly looking away from him and begging that the tears wouldn't fall from your eyes. "I'm s-sorry" you said, making him feel sick to his stomach. You were sorry. He snapped at you, and you were saying sorry. "Happy birthday, R-Reid" Reid. Not Spencer. Reid. You quickly placed the gift on his desk and left as fast as you could not noticing Spencer sighing and hitting his desk out of frustration. He was an idiot.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The next day, Spencer was the first one to come in. His leg kept bouncing up and down as he eyed your empty desk, waiting for you to arrive. However, he was interrupted when Penelope burst into the bullpen, heading out straight for Spencer's desk and making a fuzz about forgetting his birthday. She apologized endlessly and insisted that the whole team had to go out that night to make it up to him even if Spencer kept on insisting it wasn't a big deal.

He missed your entrance because everyone was surrounding his desk but he noticed when Penelope turned around to walk over to you.

"Hey, my favorite sugar plum" she smiled at you. "We're taking Spencer out to dinner because of his birthday" she explained. "Are you in?"

Spencer felt his heart racing, waiting for your answer. He desperately wanted you to come. Some part of him still hoped that you could forgive him for his previous behavior even though he knew he didn't deserve it.

"Oh" you smiled wearily and quickly looked in Spencer's direction. "I'm uh- I'm s-sorry, I can't t-today" you lied.

"Why not?" Penelope demanded. "This might be your chance to finally ask him out" she whispered so only you would hear.

"Yeah... I decided n-not to do that, Pen" you said, sadly. "I really d-don't think he's interested."

"Wait, did something happen?"

"No" you quickly said. "N-nothing happened I just... think it's best if I m-move on, you know? I'm gonna go get some coffee" you said, walking away before she could press into the matter any further.

Penelope turned to look at Spencer, who quickly pretended he wasn't just looking at that entire interaction and stood up to follow you.

"H-hey."

Spencer's voice startled you as you stood on the counter trying to reach for your mug. Because you jumped a little, you miscalculated where you placed your foot, making you stumble, miss the counter, fall to the ground, and hit your head.

"Shit!" you muttered under your breath.

"Oh my- shit!" he said, walking closer to you and kneeling down to help you. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay?"

"I'm f-fine" you said, bringing your hand up to your forehead.

"Why were you on the counter?" Spencer asked confused.

"D-Derek keeps putting my m-mug on the top shelf" you explained, making Spencer feel bad for thinking that it was you who placed it there so he would have to help reach for it.

"How do you know it's him?"

"I just heard him laugh about it with uh- Emily" you said as he helped you up.

"Well, that's mean, why don't you ask him to-?"

"It's fine, S-uh-Reid" you corrected yourself, missing the pain in Spencer's eyes when you didn't call him by his first name. "He only does it so-" you stopped midsentence. You know Derek did that so you would have to ask Spencer for help. They were all in on it. Even Hotch. You were sure. "N-nevermind" you finished.

"Um-" he said awkwardly before he easily reached out for your mug and offered it to you. "Here."

"Thank you" you said, quietly. You then moved over to make your coffee, hoping that Spencer would leave, but of course, he didn't.

"Um- listen, I wanted to apologize to you" he said, making you look back at him.

"You don't have to apologize, R-Reid" you told him.

"Yes, I do" he insisted. "I'm sorry I snapped at you" he said.

"Look, you were stressed, I g-get it. It happens. Honestly, don't worry about it. It's fine-" you said, trying to walk out of the break room, but he blocked your way.

"No, it's not fine" he told you. "While I appreciate you understanding that I was stressed, I still had no right to talk to you that way" he said, quietly. "Or said what I did-"

"It's o-okay" you insisted. And then, you said something that broke Spencer's heart even worse than it already was. "It's not like you're the f-first person to say it. I get it. I can be a lot" you told him.

Spencer was an excellent profiler. Everyone knew that. So, of course, he saw the way you were trying to brush it off as a casual comment. But your eyes were your biggest tell. And he knew that he had struck your weak spot.

"Hey, kids" you were grateful to hear Rossi coming in. "We got a new case. Conference room. Now" he instructed. Spencer sighed and looked at you before he walked out of the break room. "You okay, kid?" David asked, looking at you.

"Yeah" you nodded with a small smile. "Thank y-you."

"Don't mention it" he winked at you as you both made your way out and to the conference room.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The first thing Spencer noticed about the change in your behavior was your stutter. When you started in the BAU, this was the first thing he noticed about you. When you were so nervous to even speak out loud. He also noticed how it lessened once you started feeling more comfortable with the team.

And now, it was back. Not only that but because it was back, you became remarkably more silent. Because he knew this was something you didn't particularly like about yourself. He realized he hadn't paid as much attention to you as he should have. Because he had never really asked you about it, assuming you didn't like talking about the subject.

Also, now that you were not sitting next to him, as you usually did, it was the first time he noticed the way you took notes in your notebook. He saw that you took notes with different colors depending on which one on the team had made the observation. He wasn't sure if each color meant something to each person but he did see that his notes were purple and he wondered if it was a coincidence or if you knew that this was his favorite color.

On the flight, he noticed how quiet you were and that you did not talk unless you were spoken to. Mostly when Hotch would ask about your opinion on something, but other than that, you would only scribble away in your notebook. It killed him. He realized how much your input and your thoughts meant to him. You often participated a lot more even if it was just adding to someone else's comment. But now, it was as if you were almost afraid to speak again. And he knew it was his fault. And he also knew that he wasn't the only one who noticed.

The thing that surprised him the most was when you arrived to interrogate the family of the unsub's latest victim. While Emily and David went to the crime scene, Hotch assigned JJ and Derek to talk to the husband, Spencer and you were assigned to her son. When the kid's father informed you that he was deaf, you smiled kindly at him to let him know that you knew ASL. Spencer looked at you, surprised. He had no idea that you knew sign language. He turned to look at Hotch, who only nodded, meaning he probably knew and that's why he had assigned you to talk to the kid, and he followed you.

He watched you interact with the small scared boy who was about eight years old. Spencer saw his anxious face as the two of you entered the room and walked closer to him.

You knelt down to his level and placed your hand on the table, making him look up at you and you smiled kindly at him.

"Hello" you signed to him before spelling your name while also saying the words so Spencer would understand you. Spencer could tell you somehow felt more relaxed for some reason. "This is Dr. Reid" she introduced him. Spencer saw the boy look quickly at him and then back at you signaling quickly. You chuckled lightly. "No, he's a different kind of doctor" you informed him. "What's your name?" Spencer saw the young boy nervously sign his name and you smiled sweetly at him. "Luke?" you signed back. "Like Luke Skywalker?" you said, making a bright smile appear on the small boy who nodded happily. "You know, he was my favorite character in Star Wars. Dr. Reid made me watch them all" you signed to him.

"I did not" Spencer complained.

"Luke, do you mind if Dr. Reid and I ask you a few questions?" you signaled, ignoring Spencer's comment. Luke then signaled something to you that made you laugh, and it made Spencer realize how much he had missed your laugh. And he couldn't remember the last time you laughed with him.

"What?" he asked, curiously.

"He likes that your socks are different" you informed him, making Spencer smile at Luke.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Realistically this had been one of the shortest cases the team had in a very long time. Thankfully, you were able to catch the unsub on time, and in a couple of days, you were on the jet back home.

But for Spencer, this had felt like the longest case in his career. For some reason, it hadn't dawned on him, until now, how big was your part in his life. He had easily grown accustomed to you being there. Sitting next to him, talking to him about the latest movie you watched or the book he had recommended for you to read. Asking him to teach you to play chess. You were always there for him. He was only now acknowledging how much you actually meant to him. And he had screwed everything up.

"You haven't talked to her yet?" Spencer was snapped out of his thoughts by David, who sat next to him and he looked at him briefly before his eyes traveled back to you.

You were sitting by yourself in the back of the jet, with your headphones on. Aside from him and David, you were the only one that was awake. Even Hotch was at least resting his eyes, which rarely happened.

"She uh-" he cleared his throat. "She doesn't want to talk to me" he said sadly. "And I don't blame her" he told David.

"Well, that's where you apologize, genius" David informed him.

"You don't think I've tried?"

"That day in the break room? That was it?"

"Well, I just..." he sighed. "I don't even know what to tell her anymore. It's like she's a completely different person now" he said.

"So... this whole genius thing, does it not work when it comes to women?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're just realizing this. Now?"

"Realizing what?"

"That you're in love with her" David pointed out.

"What? I'm not- huh-" he chuckled. "I'm not in love with her... am I?"

"You tell me, kid. You're the one that has not been able to stop thinking about her and is desperately trying to get her to forgive you for... whatever it is you said to her" he explained.

"Yes, because it's the right thing to do. I upset her" Spencer said, trying to be logical.

"Yes, but you already apologized once. If it were me, or Hotch, or, Emily, would you still feel the need to apologize to us?"

"I've never said anything that hurtful to either of you. Or to anyone really" he insisted. "And the worst part is that she was just trying to be nice to me. She was the only one that remembered my birthday and all day she had tried to make me feel better" he explained.

"Well, that's what people do for the people they love" David told him.

"W-what?"

"You didn't know that either? You know, I'm starting to doubt if this whole genius is actually true" he laughed, making Spencer glare at him a little.

"She doesn't love me" he insisted. "We're just friends!"

"Uh-huh, so that's the only reason why she's always reading the books you recommend or watching the movies or the shows you like, so she has something to talk to you about" he started. "Or learning new fun facts to tell you about. And did you know that she's actually a really good baker? But for some reason, she only brings banana muffins into the bullpen. Correct me if I'm wrong but I believe the first time she brought them in, you casually mentioned that they were your favorite" he explained.

And suddenly, everything made sense to Spencer.

"Why didn't I realize this before?"

"My guess? You took it for granted" Rossi shrugged.

"Well, what do I do now? I just started noticing things that I didn't before. I didn't even know she knew sign language and she..." he looked at you with his eyes filled with sorrow.

"She started stuttering again" David pointed out, making Spencer look down at his lap, sadly. "Do you know why she stutters? Or why she knows ASL?"

"No" Spencer admitted.

"Well, you can maybe start by... asking her" David suggested.

"But isn't that intruding on her personal life?"

"Or... maybe... she would feel like you're finally taking an interest in her" he told him. "You know, as she has been with you all this time" he instructed, grabbing his book and going back to the page he had marked.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

"Hold the elevator!"

After landing, the team still went to the office to finish the case's paperwork. This time, Spencer was the first one to finish, while you were the last one. But he waited until you grabbed your things and made your way out. You held the door of the elevator, cursing a little at yourself for not letting it just close as Spencer walked inside.

"Hi" he said, with a small, awkward wave and you smiled at him. But it wasn't the same smile you always had whenever you saw him and it broke his heart.

"Hi" you said, quietly.

"Did you get to finish all your paperwork?" he asked and you simply nodded. "At least we have to morrow off" he smiled. "Do you have any plans?"

"Um... I don't know" you replied silently, looking down at your hands. Spencer felt a small pain in his heart. You were shutting him out.

"Could you please... look at me?" he said softly, waiting for you to do so but you kept your eyes on your legs. "Look, I am extremely sorry for what I said to you" he stated.

"It's f-fine-"

"No, it's not fine" he insisted before he pressed down the 'Stop' button and the elevator jumped a little before it completely came to a halt.

"S-Spencer, what are you doing?" you asked. He had no idea, but he was back to Spencer so he was not backing up now. "Don't you hate confined spaces?"

"Yes, I'm not particularly fond of them since I got stuck in one with Derek and-"

"Spencer!"

"Sorry, not the point! I need to talk to you, okay? I know you said it was fine but, what I said to you is it's not fine! Firstly, because I was an enormous jerk to you when you were only trying to make me feel better" he continued. "But mostly, because what I said wasn't true. It wasn't true at all! I know what being called something like that feels like. I know you've noticed how everyone reacts when I start rambling about my facts and you always listen to them and even ask me some questions about it even if you are not interested in them. And not just that day but, you've actually been doing this since I met you. And it is so stupid of me to not realize this until now, and I am so sorry and I am an idiot. I know I don't deserve it, but I really hope that you can forgive me. You can take as much time as you need. And I would love to get to know you better because you are honestly one of the most interesting people that I know. I didn't even know you knew ASL and if it wasn't for that and you being able to talk to that little kid, we might have not even been able to solve this case as quickly as we did. So, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for snapping at you and being an asshole to you. I'm sorry for not paying the attention that you deserve, I'm sorry for taking you for granted, and if you let me, and forgive me, which again, I know I don't deserve, I would really like to make it up to you" he rambled incredibly fast before he pressed the button again and the elevator started moving once more, arriving at your destination. "W-well, I guess that's it" he said, awkwardly as he exited the elevator. "I could walk you to your car if you'd like- or-" he sighed. "N-nevermind" he said, before he turned around and was about to walk away.

"Do you need a ride?" you asked, walking out of the elevator after Spencer and he stopped, looking back at you. "Um- I know that y-you didn't drive today a-and it's on m-my way-"

"I'd love one" Spencer blurted out. You nodded firmly, smiling and walking over to your car with him. The ride was silent. It was too silent for Spencer's liking, but you were slowly talking to him again and he was not going to ruin it by pushing you to talk more than you wanted to. He would take what he could get.

"M-my brother is deaf" you said, suddenly, making Spencer stop and look back at you. "My l-little brother" you continued. "That's why I know sign language" you explained, noticing the hopeful gaze in Spencer's eyes as he looked intently at you. "I learned since I was a kid. M-my dad and my two older brothers were... n-not very nice people" you told him. "After my m-mom passed away, I only talked to m-my little brother" you smiled sadly. "Eventually I s-stopped talking altogether. For years. When I started t-talking again, it came back with a stutter" you told Spencer. "It still comes out when I'm n-nervous" you said.

"I still think it is really impressive that you know ASL" Spencer told you, making a small smile appear on your face. "I'm sure your brother appreciated it too" he said.

"He does" you nodded. "He's actually coming in a f-few weeks to visit" you continued.

"That's great" Spencer said, feeling optimistic that you were opening up to him. "Maybe you can teach me ASL. I have always wanted to learn" he told you.

"Wow" you gasped, dramatically. "Something Dr. Spencer Reid doesn't know that I get to teach him?" you mocked, laughing a little, which was music to Spencer's ears as you parked in front of his home.

"Hey, um... I really don't want to push my luck here but... since we're off tomorrow if... you don't have any plans m-maybe you'd like to go to eat or something?" he asked, nervously. "I mean, if you're not busy. And if you want to, I understand if you prefer to-"

"Um... well" you said, feeling yourself smile at how sweet he looked nervous. "I'm... not doing anything right now. And I'm actually really hungry" you said, looking at him.

"Oh... OH!" Spencer smiled back at you, making you chuckle a little. "Um... would you like to go somewhere? Or we can order something and w-watch a movie" he suggested.

"Takeout and a movie sound nice" you said, turning the car off, and the two of you walked over to Spencer's apartment.

"So, um-" Spencer started, as you noticed he got closer to you and your hands suddenly linked and neither of you bothered to remove it. "Are Fig Newtons really named after a town in Massachusetts and not after the scientist?"

"I think so" you smiled. "I saw it on an episode of the Big Bang Theory."

The End

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

A/N: ahhh xD I hope you liked it! :D again, depending on how this goes I might reopen tje Criminal Minds fandom to write more for it :) so, let me know what you think!

[hearts4renaa]

DON’T BE A STRANGER.

summary: seeing him for the first time after the breakup. featuring kaeya and xiao. (separately)

contains: angst, post-breakup, one mention of the holiday season, gender neutral reader with the use of “you” as a pronoun

a/n: did you miss me? happy holidays from rena 🫶 listen to scott street by phoebe bridgers while reading

Nothing screamed holiday celebrations more than a couple drinks with friends at Angel’s Share, and that’s exactly what Kaeya did. Unfortunately, you had the same idea, sitting at the bar and sipping on a drink. The breakup was still fresh in your mind, and you just needed someone to talk to. Was your ex’s brother the best therapist? Probably not, but Diluc was the closest thing you had to a friend right now.

“It’s just…bad timing, you know?” You rant off to Diluc, who patiently listens as he polishes the plethora of cups in front of him. “I shouldn’t be this upset, I know, but-“ The bell above the door rings from behind you, and chatter of the new customers fills your ears. One of them chuckles, and you feel your shoulder tense at the familiar voice. It was Kaeya. Diluc shoots you a sympathetic look as Kaeya and his friends stride right by your seat to a table in the corner. You go silent as your eyes direct themselves to your cup, but in your peripheries, you can see the silhouette of the man you once called yours.

Even seeing someone who looks remote similar to him makes your heart ache, so actually seeing him brought upon a different kind of pain. You know it wasn’t anyone’s fault and that sometimes things just aren’t meant to be, but you’re confident that you’ll never love someone the way you loved him. You know you’ll look for him in everyone you meet, and that’s what really hurts. Most of all, you know that the two of you will probably never get back together; but a small part of you can’t help but hope. You shake your head to get out of your thoughts.

You down the rest of your drink, tapping the glass back down onto the bar. “I’m gonna head out.” You mutter to Diluc. He nods in understanding.

Diluc calls to you on the way out. “Y/N.” You turn back to listen to him. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Your throat tightens up, and you can’t conjure up a response. You nod, giving him a sad smile. Your eyes automatically drift to Kaeya’s table, and you find that he was already looking at you. He swirls around the drink in his left hand, not paying attention to the conversation of this colleagues.

He nods his head and gives you a small smile, and that’s how you know it’s really over.

—

The storms in Liyue haven’t been very kind to you lately. The thunder claps are booming, and the rain never seems to stop. You find yourself walking into Wangshu Inn, dripping from the rain. Verr Goldet waves cheerfully as you walk in. “Y/N!” She greets. “Here’s a towel. It’s pouring out there.” She tosses a plush white towel your way. You nod gratefully, placing the towel over your shoulders. “Head on upstairs,” She tells you. “Xiao might be up there.” You feel your stomach twist into knots. He didn’t tell her?

The two of you had been broken up for two weeks now, and almost every night, you tear up just thinking about it. He pushed you away, claimed he did it to protect you. That he was too dangerous, too troubled, too much of all the wrong things to be deserving of your affection. Xiao’s head told him it was for the better, but his heart was screaming for him to never let you go. You ultimately accepted his decision, and with a heavy heart, you said goodbye. You simply nod at the inn owner’s words, biting your tongue and heading upstairs. You weren’t really going all the way up to where Xiao normally was - instead, you figured you’d just find a table and sit until the storm passed. You found a little nook against a window and let your shoulders ease as you relished in the shelter from the storm. Your mind wanders as the rhythmic “pitter-patter” of the rain lulls you. I wonder if Xiao’s really here-

“What are you doing here?”

The voice makes you jump. You whip your head around, and you’re met with Xiao’s face. Your eyes widen, and your mind frantically searches for something to say, but you aren’t fast enough. Xiao keeps talking. “Didn’t I tell you that it was dangerous being around me?”

You swallow thickly and stand up from your seat. “It’s pouring out there.” You tell him matter-of-factly. “I’m waiting for the storm to pass.” Xiao’s face is emotionless as his eyes simply scan over your face. You notice the grip on his polearm get tighter. What you don’t know is the way Xiao bit the inside of his cheek. He was foolish for even hoping that you might have come back to him.

His heart takes control of him and he feels himself spewing words he doesn’t mean. “Good.” He spits out. “Mortals have no business being around an adepti. If it were a perfect world, we would have never met in the first place.” His words sting a little more than you’d like to admit. Xiao regrets the words as soon as they leave him mouth, and it felts painful for him to see the pain flash across your face. There is so much he wishes he could say to you. He turns away to leave, and you have to physically stop yourself from grabbing ahold of his cape.

“Xiao-“ His name falls from your lips before you can stop yourself. He doesn’t turn around, but he stops in his tracks. “Don’t be a stranger.” You whisper. He says nothing back. You blink, and he vanishes in an instant.

Only until after he leaves is when it really hits you: You will never say his name again.

[fictionalreads]

I Wish I Loved You Like I Miss You

A/N: A short little thing while I try to get past a block on the boxer AU. Hope y'all like it! Title is from After All These Years by Camila Cabello.

Masterlist

Fandom: Bad Boys

Pairing: Armando Aretas x Reader

Summary: Armando runs into you after your break-up.

Warnings ⚠️: Angst.

The barista calling out your name is what caught Armando’s attention. It wasn’t an uncommon name, but it was like he instinctually knew it was you. Looking up, he saw you walk to the counter to grab your coffee. Your hair was longer than it was the last time he saw you, reaching mid-back now. It was now black rather than the chestnut brown he was used to, still curly as ever. You looked leaner with more defined arm muscles, maybe you had finally started that boxing class you’d always said you wanted to try. You smiled at the barista in thanks and his breath was taken away at the way it still shined.

Your smile had always been his favorite thing about you.

He wasn’t prepared to see you. He had thought about what he’d do or say to you if he ever did see you again from time to time but there was never a concrete plan. In the beginning, he thought it was temporary, that you’d come back and he’d beg for your forgiveness and you’d take him back. There was no way a love like yours could just be over without trying to fix things. He’d been prepared to give you whatever you wanted, if only to have you back. After a while he realized you meant it when you said you were done. He had been angry at first, thinking you were just like everybody else in his life, quick to use him for what you wanted before leaving him behind like he wasn’t worth it. As time went by, he realized it wasn’t that you thought of him as not worth it, you simply valued yourself more.

He could understand you needing to put your own peace and happiness ahead of his, especially because he never considered your needs the way he should have.

So he decided he would leave you alone if he ever saw you again. He’d give you the thing you wanted most, the space from him to move on and find better. He owed you that much. But seeing you now, he couldn’t let you pass him without a word. He wasn’t sure how to approach you, how to start an apology that you didn’t need from him.

How to ask for closure from you when you’d already found your closure by leaving.

You checked to make sure you had everything before making your way through the small crowd in the shop. You didn’t get frustrated with anyone, simply said excuse me and waited for them to move, no anger if they moved slowly. He had about five seconds before he lost his window of opportunity, but it was like he was frozen. Overcome with emotions that he couldn’t untangle enough to put into words. Guilt and yearning at the forefront.

Four

He couldn’t help but think of all the ways he’d sabotaged the relationship. All the times he’d started arguments because he was scared, afraid you’d decide not to love him after all. When he’d decided for you that you couldn’t possibly love someone like him. All the times he pushed your patience, trying to see how far he could push you before you broke.

Three

He had thought he’d made his peace with losing you but seeing you now brought back all those old feelings he’d once carried around. Maybe he hadn’t moved on as much as he’d pushed it all down in an effort to forget, to dull the pain of loss, because he craved the feeling he would get when you smiled at him. He wanted you to look his way, to simply acknowledge he was there. He wanted to be the center of your attention once more, vowing he’d do better at making you his in return.

Two

As you got closer to him, he noticed a ring on your finger. One that meant you’d clearly moved on, found the person who was able to give you what you needed, who didn’t take your love for granted. Someone you didn’t have to make excuses for, someone who prioritized you. Someone who was ready for you. Was it fair of him to bring up the turmoil when you were happy now?

One

A/N: I thought about writing if Armando reaches out to her or not and the consequences of whatever choice he makes, but I kind of like that it's open ended. Don't forget to comment, like and reblog!

Taglist: @d4rno @yeahnohoneybye @nelo0wesker

@omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @bootlegroach

[cirtusmistress]

Hurricane

Authors Note: I wrote this about two years ago and posted it to AO3, and never cross-posted it to Tumblr. But given I want to get back into writing, I may as well start by posting what I got! So enjoy my first fic, two years late.

Ship ~ Brahms Heelshire x GN Reader

Tags ~ Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Reader is Competent, Storm prep, Brahms is Scared of Storms, Touch-Starved Brahms Heelshire, Reader Replaces Greta Evans, Minor Injuries, Doll Brahms Heelshire, One Shot, Gender-Neutral Pronouns

AO3 Crosspost

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“A storm? Like, a thunderstorm? Or is it worse?” You asked. You’d been working for the Heelshire’s for around two months now. And though they’d left you with very detailed instructions on how to care for their beloved son, they had never brought up things such as house care. Honestly, you hadn’t planned on staying this long. Not into Autumn.

“A full on hurricane.” Malcolm answered, setting the last of the grocery bags down. He continued, “The worst one we’ve had in years apparently. They’re predicting outages and downed trees. I can help you secure the windows and doors if you’d like?” He offered. A sweet gesture. An olive branch of friendship. But you knew better than to take it.

During your short time at the Heelshire estate, and caring for Brahms, you’d learned a great many things. The most crucial being that whenever someone stayed around too long and stole your attention away from the doll you cared for, there was hell to pay. In one instance you found the dining room in complete disarray after simply inviting Malcolm in for tea, during a rare social moment for you. The worst case was when a friend of yours stopped by. They were a globetrotter, and seeing as you already had residence found it simpler to just stay with you. A mistake. One night was enough to send Brahms into the worst tantrum you’d ever seen. Multiple rooms destroyed, a window had been broken, and he had stolen your friend's passport. Your friendship didn’t last long after that. After all, who was to believe that a doll could cause so much harm?

“Thank you, Malcolm, but I’ll be fine. I’ve dealt with a few storms in my life, I’ll manage.” You replied. Malcolm studied you for a moment. Likely trying to read you, sniff out any signs of dishonesty. But, there were none. Just that warm smile that could melt anyone's heart. He gave a sigh of defeat and nodded.

“If you say so. Just give me a call if you need anything. I’ll come check on you when the hurricane passes.” With that he gave you a wave and headed back to his truck. You muttered a soft thanks, finally returning to your chores.

Brahms sat in the kitchen where he’d been waiting. Like he was listening to your conversation. You’d grown used to this odd job of yours. Caring for a doll as if it were human. Though you’d always figured there was more to this situation then most believed. You’d heard of people using dolls to cope with loss, the concept wasn’t lost on you. But for a couple well into their later years? And there were just.. Too many small things. Even in the rules. Playing music loud, reading in a loud clear voice, leaving food in the freezer. Food which you knew was going missing.

But the biggest tell was an accident. It had been about a month into the job. You’d actually begun to believe Brahms was a child's spirit trapped in the doll. What with him moving around on his own, and leaving you little offerings, and once saying your goddamn name when he was upset. But then, just by accident as you were putting Brahms to bed, you hit your foot against the wall. It had hurt so badly you thought you’d broken a toe. But what stood out in your mind even now was the sound the wall made. It didn’t make the thud you knew from stubbing your toe time and time again in youth. The wall sounded hollow. There had been an echo. Now you knew some older houses had hollow walls. Normally the cavities between the two layers were used for insulation. But that echo.. That wasn’t a normal hollow wall.

After that you’d started paying closer attention to the house and Brahms as you went about your day. Watching and listening. Countless nights where you’d lay in bed and just listen. You’d hear shuffling, the rare footstep like someone had stumbled. Once you swore you heard breathing. You noticed how many rooms had large paintings or cabinets, your size or larger. For a while you thought you were going mad. There was no way in hell that an elderly couple had been keeping their son in the walls for twenty years. But then you learned of the Heelshire’s deaths. Suicides. So many things pointing to something you didn’t quite know how to feel about. On one hand, you were now basically the sole guardian of a doll who was actually a stand-in for the hypothetical twenty-eight year old man in the walls. On the other, Brahms was now completely alone after twenty years of isolation. Alone, save for you. Sweet, kind, loving you who treated a porcelain doll like a real boy. Who read to him every night and tucked him in with a kiss. You couldn’t just leave him. No matter what Brahms was.

“We’re in for a storm, Brahms. I guess that means we’re having a slumber party downstairs tonight.” You cortled, putting the last of the groceries away. You took note of how little perishables Malcolm had dropped off. Thinking ahead. You wouldn’t be able to cook for however long the power was gone, if it did go that was.

You turned back to the doll, scooping him up and taking him with you. You figured the downstairs office would be the safest place. The windows were relatively small and were less likely to break. It would do for your purposes. You sat Brahms in the corner and got to work moving the desk out of the way. You’d have to lay down blankets and things to sleep on. You doubted the old fashioned Heelshire’s were going to have something like an air mattress.

You spent a good hour doing basic storm prep. Dragging some old blankets and comforters out of wardrobes and laying them down on the floor. Filling up buckets and the tubs with water. Getting crossword puzzles and cards. By the time that was all done, it had begun to rain outside. The calm before the storm you supposed. The last thing on your storm checklist was lanterns. This was an old house, you were certain that the Heelshire’s would have oil lamps somewhere. Naturally the first place you wanted to check was the attic.. But you knew better. After all, if your theory was right you didn’t want to scare the poor man by invading his space. So you settled on checking the cellar first.

Only issue was, you really couldn’t bring Brahms. You knew he was never meant to be alone but taking a fragile doll into a dark cellar was too risky. He’d have to stay upstairs. You were hoping he wouldn’t be too upset.

“Brahms, I’m headed to the cellar. I’ll be quick, I promise.” You hummed. With that, you headed down alone. You had been right, it was dark and musty and damp. You started to wonder if there was mold down here. You flicked on the old dingy light which surprisingly still worked. You began digging through the clutter. Old things like furniture, clothes never worn since the sixties, even some art pieces. It was like a time capsule. You didn’t have time to walk through history though, you needed to find anything that could give light without the use of electricity. Lower and lower you went through the piles, until finally you found something. A pair of old oil lamps and a small can of oil to go with it. You muttered a soft thanks, pulling them out from beneath wicker chairs. But what was behind them gave you pause.

The bricks were singed. Dark burn marks that showed age. Your eyes followed the marks. The furniture in here had covered them, but now they were exposed after your rummaging. They flowed over the bricks going upwards. They almost looked beautiful. But that beauty hid a tragedy that plagued this home. You knew why they’d been hidden with so much clutter.

Your thoughts were interrupted when something crashed behind you, making you scream and jump. When you turned you saw one of the mirrored vanities stored away had been smashed. The mirror shards now littered the floor. And on the steps sat the Brahms doll, staring you down. It took you a moment to catch your breath, realizing your error. Brahms didn’t want you uncovering his painful memories. And he’d made sure you knew that. Gathering yourself, you pushed the lamps aside and began to put all that you’d moved back into its place. Covering those painful memories back up, letting them remain hidden and forgotten. Once finished you picked the lamps and the can up and approached Brahms. Kneeling to his height you gave an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry Brahms,” you spoke with such a genuine tone of sincerity, “I shouldn’t have snooped around. But look! I found the lamps we’ll need!” You held up the lamps, jostling them a little so they clinked together. Of course the doll remained frozen. But just faintly, almost missable under the sound of rain pouring down, you heard panting. Like someone coming down from a rage.

“I’ll clean up the shards, then we’ll head back upstairs, okay?” You’d started speaking to Brahms out loud more after you’d learned about the walls. Feeding your own delusions some would say. You held your word, starting to pick up the larger shards and resting them on top of the vanity. The smaller ones you just brushed away with some loose fabric you found. You didn’t really plan on coming back down here anyways, not after that outburst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You always found time moves slower when there was a storm. The day seemed to drag on as the storm became worse and worse. The wind had picked up and those raindrops just kept getting larger. It was loud, even on the bottom floor. You had settled on just simple sandwiches for dinner, making sure to put a ‘spare’ in the freezer. And after that you’d just settled in to do a crossword. It was.. Probably the first time in weeks where you felt safe. There was something about the dim lighting and blankets that just felt right. Secure. Warm. Brahms sat under the covers and you’d even given him a crossword book of his own. Slightly cruel, knowing he couldn’t move with you there with him. But at least you’d been talking to him. Funny, you always struggled talking with real people. But this doll turned you into a chatterbox. Maybe it was the simple fact no one was attempting to speak over you. Like someone was actually listening.

Your tranquility was disrupted by a large gust of wind, followed by a crash that made the manor shake. And what sounded like a scream. It had come from upstairs. Something inside you just knew. That crash was in the attic. You were running upstairs before you even had time to think. Up the stairs, and finding the attic ladder down. You were unsure if it had come undone itself or if someone had moved it. That didn’t matter as you climbed up. It was your first time in the attic but you didn’t get a chance to explore. A branch had flown off a tree and crashed through the wall, opening it up to the elements. You could only act, no time for clear thoughts. You grabbed a nearby blanket and started to desperately try to cover the hole, but another gale blew you back. There was nothing you could do to patch it right now, not unless you wanted to risk injury or worse, death.

Your rattled mind returned to the scream you had heard. Or at least you thought you had heard. Looking around you didn’t see a body but there was a bed up here. A tv, a sink.. Someone was living here. You didn’t have time to celebrate your theory being proven. Where was Brahms? Your eyes flitted around, finally landing back on the ladder. Somehow you had missed the very clear bloody handprint on it during your panic. But if Brahms was bleeding.. Oh God, how badly was he injured? Quickly you descended the steps, trying to find any sign of him. You were too panicked to even fear this man who was hiding from you for so long. All you knew somewhere in this house he was hurt and bleeding.

“Brahms?” You called, starting to check every room. Could he have climbed back into the walls? Fearing you discovering him? You checked everything on the top floor and worked down, calling his name in a more desperate tone with each exclamation. But finally you found him. Turning the corner back into the downstairs study. There he sat, in place of the doll. It wasn’t what you expected to see. The mask was shocking at first glance. You were momentarily stun locked. He was bigger than you anticipated, even sitting down. Finally you snapped out of it when he looked at you, and held out his bleeding hand. It had a sizable gash across the palm.

“It hurts,” He spoke in a child-like voice. The voice you’d heard months ago. His head drooped a touch as he spoke, “Can you fix it?” He asked. Finally, after another beat, you nodded. Your mouth felt dry. Too dry to speak. In the kitchen you found the first aid, and took it back with you. He hadn’t moved from his place on the makeshift bed. You knelt beside him, and carefully took his hand in yours. Up close you could see the burn scars that ran along his entire right side. Suddenly his outburst in the cellar made much more sense.. Carefully you applied some rubbing alcohol to the cut. That made Brahms whimper and pull his hand back. The look in his eyes behind that mask was murderous.

“I’m sorry, Brahms, but I have to.. To clean it.” You choke out. Your mouth is still far too dry. You hold your hand out for his again, giving him those warm eyes again. He would trust you wouldn’t he? After all, you had been the one to care for him all this time. He looked at your hand, then back to your face. For a moment Brahms almost seemed entranced by your eyes before conceding and resting his hand back in yours.

“Good boy..” You said, starting to clean the wound. He made a noise akin to that of a moan at your praise. You supposed you were the first person to touch him or give him praise in years. He was likely touch starved. Once the cut was clean, you grabbed the bandages and began to wrap his hand. He kept watching you. His breath was heavy behind that mask.

Finally you were done, and you let his hand go. Brahms examined your work, how carefully you’d wrapped him, and the cute little bow you’d tied it off with. As he studied his hand, you studied him. Despite the childish voice he put on, he was very much an adult. You could see his beard poking out from beneath the porcelain. He was actually rather handsome, you’d admit. The rain picked up again, and the lights began flickering. Brahms jumped and quickly moved closer to you. Before you knew it his head was hiding in your lap. Apparently he was afraid of the storm. Made sense, it had attacked him after all. Carefully you began to stroke his hair in an attempt to soothe him.

“We’ll be okay. Just a little wind and rain, that’s all. Maybe we can play cards? Or I can tell you a story?” You offered. Just trying to find anything to distract him from the weather outside damaging his home. Slowly he nodded, not lifting his head from your waist. Actually his grip seemed to grow tighter. You could feel him inhaling a little too deeply, and his hands started to squeeze your thighs as he held tight. You felt bad thinking how unsurprised that made you. But he had lived in the walls for twenty years.. And you were likely the first person he’d had stick around.

You settled back on to the makeshift mattress, Brahms never letting you go. He shuffled up a bit, so his face was resting against your chest. You kept stroking his hair, picking your brain for a story to tell. Something romantic as you had a wild feeling that was right up his alley. You recounted the story of Pride and Prejudice, not skipping any details of the classic story. Brahms seemed all too enthralled by the tale. He even began to kick his feet in the air when you recounted the climax between Elizabeth and the beloved Mr.Darcy. Just before you could finish though, the lights finally gave out. Brahms tensed up against you and again hugged you tight against him. You let out a wheeze. You needed to get the lamps but he seemed content just smothering you until the lights came back themselves. Finally you managed to sit up as he continued to cling like a baby koala.

“Brahms, sweetheart, I need to light the lamps.” You manage to get out. But that seems to make his grip tighter. He shakes his head, face pulling your shirt back and forth.

“No. No lamps. I don’t want any fire in the house.” He whimpered. Your heart broke a little. That night seemed to have never left Brahms.. You stroked his back soothingly before trailing your hands to cup his cheeks.

“Brahms, we need light. It’ll be okay, I can work an oil lamp-” You were cut off as Brahms slammed you back down against the floor. Even with the cushioning it knocked the air from your lungs. Your hands fell from his face beside yourself as his own gripped your shoulders.

“No fire in the house. Never again.” His voice was no longer that high falsetto. Instead it was deep, aggressive. He sounded his age. You gasped for air, before nodding. Tears had pricked your eyes. You felt a twinge of guilt as you questioned whether or not he’d hurt you.

Finally you found your voice again, “Okay Brahms. No lamps, I promise. Do you want another story?” You asked in a feeble attempt to calm him back down. Lucky for you it seemed to work. Brahms grip on your shoulders loosened, and he returned his head to your chest. He nodded and urged you on to tell your story.

A shaky sigh escaped you. You thanked your lucky stars that you could calm him so easily. As you began telling another story, the rain and wind outside crashed into the manor. You knew Brahms would never harm you. Not you. Not his caretaker. But you began to wonder. How long would this storm last? Suddenly, in the dark, the room no longer felt secure.

[adeliniel]

SFW alphabet | Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen

It's been 2 years since I wrote anything! Such a long pause for me. But Dune brought me back. Happy to write again!

Please, enjoy and let me know what you think^^

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

As a surprise for you he’s not that affectionate in public. Feyd might hold your hand or touch your shoulder, just to remind everyone who you belong to, but he doesn’t really need to prove anything to anyone. Things change dramatically when you two are in private. Feyd doesn’t talk much, he prefers to express himself through touching. Depending on the mood, it doesn’t always mean a nice, gentle touch. It can be rough and demanding, or light, almost teasing as well. But he tries to make sure that you’re on the same page and he’s not hurting you deliberately. 

B = Body (Their favorite body part of their partner, why? Do they like touch?)

Eyes. He likes how you look away, your cheeks red, when he stares you right in the eyes. He likes your tender gaze when he looks back at you with so much desire to be intimate, to share something only you two can understand.

Feyd is more into touching than talking. He knows his body well and he can express more with just a simple touch. He has an opinion that talking is just a wasted effort and that the body never lies, so why waste precious time when he can show you his true feelings right there simply using the body language.     

C = Courtship (What do they do to take your attention?)

Na Baron has such a famous and intriguing personality, he doesn't have to do much to attract your attention. People either want to know him, or prefer to stay as far away as possible to not get into trouble.

It’s you who one day caught yourself thinking about him more than usual. Wanting to have at least one more look at him, you started taking longer ways to your chambers, just in case Feyd is wandering around the station sometime late at night.  

D = Domestic (Are they the type to settle down with you? Are they willing to help with chores? What is your daily routine with them?)

Wherever he goes - you go with him. You are his family and Feyd has no intentions to leave you behind. You’re his wife and he wants you right beside him.

E = Espousal (Do they want to marry you eventually? Who proposes to who?)

Of course. That’s the only way he sees your future together. Not just tradition, not just necessity, but a way of confirming how serious and precious this relationship is. It was kind of mutual decision, Feyd did a proper proposal anyway.

(Although forget about kneeling, sweet words and typical "Will you marry me?", cause it wasn't even a question.

F = Fragile (How protective are they of you? If they are, how do they show this?)

Absolutely knows that you’re fully capable of defending yourself if needed, knows that you can stand up for yourself and would never interfere unless he senses a real danger. Feyd gets a great pleasure out of watching how independent and confident his darling is. And even more when he sees you putting his brother to his place (below you).

G = Gifts (What type of gifts do they give their s/o? Do they like receiving gifts?)

Feyd is not big on gifts. You already have so many things, everything you want is there, he feels like whatever he chooses, it won't be worth it. If only he could give you, say, a planet, that would make a great gift. Just enough to show you the depth of his feelings.

Nor is he huge on receiving presents. In fact, there’s nothing you can give him that he doesn’t already have. Wealth, power, glory and love - Feyd is blessed to have it all. The best gift you can give him - your full presence and loyalty. And an heir.  

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He didn’t really understand what’s so special about hugs at the start, but grew to kinda like them as the time passed. Although he likes physical touch and that’s how he usually shows affection, Feyd thinks that hugs are just a substitute for something more significant. He’d rather hold your hands or grip his hands around your neck. He will also definitely choose stroking, petting and/or choking over hugs.   

I = Intimacy (How romantic are they? Do they have problems with intimacy?) 

Not that Feyd has particular problems with intimacy, he just doesn’t know what to do. Playing with you is easy, but being present and real is challenging. It took a lot of time before he could put his smirk down and look you straight in the eyes with his heart wide open, showing his naked insecurities.  

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Jealousy is, probably, his biggest insecurity. He knows that he’s good, but sometimes he questions himself whether you find him good enough. Despite his power and status, Feyd knows that there are other men and he can’t help but compare himself to them.

Noone knows about it, even you for a long time, because he never talks about it. He never shows when he’s really jealous. He does play with you sometimes, pretending to punish you out of jealousy, but it is never the case of his real feelings. He keeps it all to himself.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

All that you can and can’t imagine. He starts slowly and then ends up biting your lips and tongue. He likes the power it gives him over you, likes the taste of your blood, he likes to dominate and to use his opportunities.

And more than that he loves that you reciprocate it, that you show your passion, you express your love and loyalty to him. He does like that it goes both ways. He likes to feel that both of you are alive and feeling.

Recently Feyd has discovered that pleasant feeling when you kiss the back of his neck. it gives him goosebumps and he can’t get over it.     

L = Love language (What’s their love language?)

Touch. He doesn’t need words to express his feelings when he can just touch you. Feyd uses his hands, mouth, tongue to love and punish you, to express his worries, anger, to be gentle or to be rude. Years of training made him a great master of his body and he’s convinced that his body language is way better than him talking.   

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s usually awake and gone long before you get up. But on those rare occasions when he doesn’t need to be anywhere early, he’d wake you up just because he’s bored.

N = Nicknames (What do they call you? What do you call them?)

Was happy when you moved from calling him Na-Baron to just simply calling him by his name. He finds it intimate enough and doesn’t see a point in creating nicknames. 

He tried to say “My love” a couple of times, but didn’t really feel into it, so he stopped.

O = Overture (How did everything start?)

Slowly and way less serious. Feyd mocked around quite a bit before actually growing feelings towards you. You didn’t expect much, considering the difference between your social positions, but the man of his power can do whatever he wants and choose whoever he desires. You felt you were lucky enough to fall in love with him before he approached you with his confession.

“Possessive” you thought, accepting Feyd’s invitation to visit him in his room that night.

(To your biggest surprise nothing sexual happened. Instead you met a deadly serious Na-Baron telling you about his plans to build a long-term relationship with you.)  

P = Pace (Are they fast-paced in a relationship? Or do they like to take things slow?)

Feyd is unexpectedly chill in the relationship. Apart from all the passion and desire, he smells a sense of security, he knows that you’re not playing around, that you’re not going anywhere, so there’s no need for drama. No need to rush when you have the eternity ahead to enjoy each other. 

Q = Queen/King (Who takes the initiative in relationships?)

Absolutely, 99%, he’s the lead. Even though he likes to play games, where he pretends to give you control over him and lets you dominate, it never goes beyond the bedroom door.

R = Remembrance (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The night when you first had sex. That tingling feeling of something completely new happening, so expected and desired. Exciting moment of mutual trust. Feyd’s fascination, seeing you wanting him just as much, feeling that you’re not afraid, even knowing who and how he is. Holding and having you all for himself, and even more than that - belonging.

 It was no vanilla, rather a night full of passion, a bit rough, but definitely long and enormously pleasant.

S = Salvage (What issues does this relationship help him to cope with?)

Feyd doesn’t have many insecurities, but for a long time he felt like he can’t find a suitable partner, and it made him feel like he’s lacking something significant in his power. A partner that’d be strong enough to put up with his character. Someone not just for breeding, but to show the world that he has it all.

Marrying you gave him more control over his social status and made his life complete. Love is a nice addition to it, but it also cured him from feeling not good enough.

T = Tiny (How are they around children?)

Children are not an option, they are an obligation, you knew it from the very beginning. But it doesn’t necessarily feel like a burden. It has to happen sooner or later, so Feyd is generally looking forward to it.

The idea of being able to create something all by himself, without his uncle’s or brother’s influence or power, makes him feel really proud of himself. And you.

U = Ulterior (What’s their secret?)

Quite rare, but he feels tired. Feyd doesn’t want anyone to know or see him like it. He’s afraid that it will affect the way others perceive him. And so he disappears. Sometimes for hours, sometimes for days.

It scared the shit out of you when it happened for the first time. You genuinely thought he died in a battle. But you got used to it with time, and learnt not to disturb him in moments like these.    

V = Vulnerable (How long until they can be vulnerable around their s/o? What are they like in this state?)

No surprise it takes quite a while. He’s longing to be seen and heard, but it also takes a lot out of him to start sharing. Not that he’s afraid of being ridiculed or betrayed (he’d simply kill you, if this happens). He worries that if he starts talking, he might not want to stop. Having someone loving and caring listening to him with no judgment is something completely new in Feyd’s experience. And for a long time he doesn't know how to address it. 

W = Wound (How do they feel about exposing their scars/injuries?)

Feyd is proud of his wounds and scars. His masochistic side induces him to mutilate himself, and the sadist inside of him prefers to do it right in front of you. Just to enjoy that look of confusion and disgust on your face. It really turns him on.

As much as that he likes when after this little play you take care of his wounds and cause him some more pain.      

X = Xtra (A random headcanon about your relationship)

Feyd LOVES to be spoiled and to have your undivided attention. Something he never had before. He wants it all, all the time. Whether he’s bragging about how good he’s at fighting, or just quietly lies on his stomach while you gently stroke his back, or complaining to you how hard it is to be a Baron, he wants your full attention to his persona right there, right now.

Y = Yearning (How well do they cope when their SO isn’t with them?)

It is a really rare occasion that you are apart from each other for more than a couple of hours. Usually you just don’t have anywhere else to be. Feyd is so used to having you around, he doesn’t even think that it can be different or that you’ll disappear. And if it ever happens, he’ll set the whole universe on fire just to get you back.     

Z = Zzz (How are nights spent with them?)

Feyd is actually a nice quiet sleeper. He doesn't snore or steal the blanket, doesn’t even take your side of the bed, even though he’s used to sleeping alone. Although being busy in his new role, he spends more and more time managing tasks and goes to sleep really late, so you do get lonely nights sometimes.   

Thank you for reading!

You can find more of my writings right here

[to-thelakes]

Reader and Luke not being together yet (even tho theyre both stupidly in love with the other (duh)) and reader falls asleep on Luke in the jet after a rough case!!

statistical anomaly

pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader

summary; after a case drags you to the jet late at night, you fall asleep on luke's shoulder but not before overhearing him talk about you

warnings; fluff, tired reader, team being absolute chaotic little gremlins, spencer reid (my beloved <3)

notes; i saw this and despite how ill i feel (nothing is new there, literally been dying for six months straight(not actually, just feels that way)), i was kicking my feet and giggling because STOP, i need this and want this in my life. so, i may have written a little drabble hehe, is it edited? no. is there mistakes? probably, i'm tired. but the thoughts of luke alvez never stop so enjoy

(also i made this before a case instead of after bc i just honestly, idk, i just did, so whoops but same vibes)

masterlist

It was late when you were called in for a case. You had just got home, texting Luke that you were home safe (like you always did) when Garcia called. She profusely apologised for calling you in so late but then asked you to come back. You did, without question. It wasn’t Garcia’s fault and there were lives to save; even if you were exhausted. 

A soft sigh escaped your lips as you settled into the jet. You were sat around the table. Luke was next to you and Emily and Reid were sat across from you. You all had the case files out, the laptop with Garcia on it was on the table too. Emily began to run you all through the case, preliminary discussions passing quickly without much of a word from you.

You were exhausted and your brain was lagging behind so you knew it was better to stay quiet for now. Once you were done, everyone slipped away into their own little group. Reid and Emily were discussing the case while you simply closed the case file. Luke glanced down at you.

“Everything okay?” He asked softly. You ran your hand across your face before you nodded your head but you weren’t convincing him or anyone. He gently took a hold of your wrist, resting it against the table, “Do you want a coffee?” He added after a moment. You shook your head.

“I’m fine, really,” You attempted to convince him but he wasn’t. He glanced around before his gaze returned to you, “Talk me through the background,” You requested. Luke looked at you for a moment and he eventually gave in to you. You were giving him the eyes and he couldn’t ever resist that. So, he began to read through the background that Garcia had managed to compile.

You really tried to listen but listening to Luke’s voice was calming you down. You felt the exhaustion seeping back in and you let your head rest against Luke’s arm. He - obviously - didn’t have a problem with it. Any excuse to have you close was good enough for him. He loved holding you, touching you, keeping you close.

“Did you get any of that?” He teased softly, noticing how your eyes had fallen closed. You mumbled something but he didn’t catch any of it. You were clearly exhausted and so he shuffled so that you could rest more comfortably against his shoulder, “I’ll wake you when the flight lands,” He whispered softly into your ear. You hummed happily in response before you let sleep take you.

It was hard for Emily and Reid not to notice. Reid was the first to suspect that there was something going on between the two of you but whenever he brought it up, he was shut down. But the rest of the team were catching on now.

“You know, a friendship, on average, takes 21.9 months to turn romantic,” Reid stated and Luke lifted his gaze up, cocking an eyebrow, “But you’ve been friends for nearly three years, so you’re both a statistical anomaly,” He added. Luke tried his best not to shift but it was clear that he was baffled by Reid’s sudden statistics.

“Reid,” Emily warned. It wasn’t that she didn’t want Reid to talk because she did enjoy hearing him but she didn’t want to make a situation out of this right now. They had other things to worry about.

“Nothing is going on between us,” Luke responded. A scoff escaped Emily’s lips involuntarily and Luke’s head snapped towards her, “I’m letting her sleep,” He defended. Emily tried to distract herself from this conversation by looking at the case file but she was still gonna be nosy.

“You let her touch you more than anyone else on the team. You also regularly watch her while she’s working and you’re much more engaged when she speaks and you’re more likely to defend her when one of us fights against her theories. You might not have something going on but you clearly love her and she loves you,” Reid stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Luke’s eyes widened and he glanced down at you before he looked back at Reid.

“How do you know that?” Luke asked, the emotions warring in his chest as he tilted his head to the side slightly.

“Oh, she told me,” A smile appeared on his face and you bit your lip as you still rested against Luke’s shoulder. You had been asleep for a little bit but Reid and Luke speaking had roused you from the brink. You had been silently listening but Reid noticed you begin to smirk slightly.

“Stop talking about me, please,” You mumbled, your tone thick was exhaustion. Luke’s eyes widened and Reid chuckled softly, “I’m trying to get some sleep.” Luke looked down at you and then back at Reid and he seemed completely dumb-founded. He was at a loss for words. It was cute and that is why you just let yourself settle back down and go back to sleep. You needed it.

<3

[sinkovia]

Black Market: III

Hitman Simon Riley x Doctor Fem!Reader

In desperate need of money to clear a million-dollar debt, you accept Simon's offer to become his personal doctor, earning twenty percent of each contract he completes. But as you plunge back into the black market, ghosts from your past emerge, threatening to unravel everything you've worked so hard to run away from.

Mention of sexual assault, mention of Simon Riley's canon backstory, light angst.

Masterlist - Black Market Masterlist

A few weeks passed and with thousands of dollars now sitting in your bank account, you began to reassess the deal you had made with Simon, realizing that it wasn't as terrible as you had initially thought. Slowly, you found yourself lowering your defenses and growing more at ease in his presence and the space around you.

Simon respected your wish to not accompany him on contracts, so you found yourself reluctantly harvesting organs from someone he had killed just minutes ago. It was a grim task, but you saw it as the least you could do for him being so cooperative with your demands.

As you worked, Simon leaned against the counter, watching you tear apart the insides of the man and carefully placing his organs into iced containers. "Thought you wanted to save lives? Here you are tearing into a man I only killed minutes ago," he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. You rolled your eyes at his comment.

"You offered me twenty thousand knowing I'm in desperate need of money. You're a sick man, Simon," you retorted, continuing your work without missing a beat. Simon simply smiled, crossing his muscular arms over his chest.

He looked at the dead man split in half on the table and then to you, marveling at your focused precision and fast hands as you expertly took him apart.

"You think you could've brought him back?" he asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice. You smiled as you took out the last part, carefully placing his heart in the ice chest and sealing the container shut. Then, you turned to Simon, your smile lingering.

"I know I could have," you replied confidently. "But he would have been brain dead."

With that, you took off your gloves and sighed before heading up the steps to your bedroom for a much-needed shower. Simon remained in the basement, his mind swirling with questions about you. He had never cared for anyone before; his life had revolved around accepting contracts and killing people for money. 

No socializing, no interests, no curiosity for other people. But you were different. There was something about you that intrigued him, something that made him want to peel back the layers and uncover your past.

Simon formed a plan in his head to extract any sliver of information from you that would allow him to delve into your history. He needed to know what made you such a skilled doctor at such a young age, considering that medical school takes years of study and experience to achieve the level of proficiency you display. 

You were lying in bed, engrossed in the book that Simon had so graciously bought for you when the savory aroma of garlic and herbs wafted into the room.

Your stomach grumbled in response, prompting you to abandon your reading and make your way to the kitchen. Simon looked up as he set two plates down on the dining table.

"Made you dinner to make up for earlier,"

You raised a skeptical eyebrow as you surveyed the meal before you, but your doubts vanished the moment you took the first bite. "Holy shit, I didn't think you knew how to cook like this," genuine surprise evident in your tone.

A smile tugged at Simon's lips at your reaction. "Wanted to be a cook when I was younger," he admitted casually.

Which hadn’t been a lie, when he was younger he dreamed of opening his own restaurant.

Your eyebrows raised at his revelation. You hadn't expected him to be so open about himself. Relaxing into your chair, you took a sip of wine before sharing a bit of your own past. "I wanted to be a florist."

Simon's interest was piqued, finally getting a glimpse into your backstory. "Florist to surgeon? Pretty different occupations," he remarked, taking a sip of his own wine.

You laughed as you finished your glass and reached for the bottle to pour yourself more. "From a cook to a hitman?" you teased lightly.

Simon grinned in response. "Fair enough.”

Curious about what had steered him away from his childhood dream, you prodded gently, "What steered you away?"

Simon's expression shifted briefly, a flicker of memories passing through his eyes as he glanced down at his plate. "Different circumstances,"

Reflecting on your own past, you nodded in understanding. "Yeah, me too," you murmured, the weight of shared experiences hanging in the air between you.

As the evening wore on and a few more glasses of wine were shared between you and Simon, you found yourself loosening up. Eventually, you began to vent about your past jobs, particularly about a hospital where the nurses were brain dead fucks. You launched into a rant about all of them, each one seemingly worse than the last.

Simon listened intently, his grin widening as he realized the wealth of information you were unwittingly providing him. With each complaint, he mentally cataloged the names and details, knowing that he now had enough clues to get a glimpse into your past.

That night as you slept upstairs, Simon delved into the depths of the internet, scouring through various websites until he stumbled upon a list of old employers associated with your previous job. It didn't take long for him to piece together the missing parts of your identity, and soon enough, he discovered your last name.

Simon navigated through the dark web, his fingers typing in your name with a mixture of curiosity. What he found made his stomach clench.

Before him lay a website, one he was all too familiar with, an organization specializing in sex work. As he scrolled through, he saw old listings featuring you, offering your services for hire. He glanced away when he clicked on a link and saw pictures of you dressed in scant clothing, your eyes reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and fear.

You were only a teenager, no older than seventeen.

His eyes read over an old listing offering a hefty reward for anyone who could locate and return you to them. 

It didn't even cross his mind to entertain the idea of betraying you. In his eyes, you were worth infinitely more than any sum of money or reward. As he sat there, reflecting on your past and the horrors you endured, he couldn't fathom the thought of dragging you back into that nightmarish world.

Your value to him went beyond any material gain, your skill as a doctor made you irreplaceable. And as someone who understood the pain of being used, he couldn't bear the thought of subjecting you to that kind of life again.

With a heavy sigh, he leaned back in his chair, everything suddenly made sense, your reluctance to work for him, your aversion to joining him on contracts.

He hadn't expected you to be remotely tied to the black market, let alone be a victim of it. He had unknowingly brought you back to a world you were desperately trying to escape.

You find yourself unable to sleep, plagued by a throbbing headache that refuses to go away. Desperate for relief, you make your way down to the basement in search of Advil, hoping it will alleviate the pounding in your head. As you reach the last step of the basement you see simon at his desk with his back turned toward you.

Your eyes glance at the computer screen and your heart plummets.

Images of your younger self, captured and exploited, sold into a life of servitude and suffering. The shock of seeing your own face reflected back at you in such a vulnerable state leaves you reeling, the pain in your head momentarily forgotten in the wake of this unwelcome intrusion into your past.

"Happy with what you found?" The words escaped your lips before you could stop them, your voice tinged with bitterness. Simon's startled expression told you he hadn't anticipated your arrival, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and guilt.

"Just wanted to know who you were… wanted to know why you didn’t want to work for me," he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of remorse.

You couldn't tear your gaze away from the screen, the images of your younger self serving as a painful reminder of the horrors you endured.

"Sometimes people want their lives and past to be private," you murmured, your words heavy with the weight of years of suffering and trauma.

Simon knew that feeling better than anyone.

"I'm sorry," Simon offered, his apology hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

"No, you're not," you muttered bitterly, turning away and ascending the steps. As you disappeared from view, he sighed heavily, sinking back into his chair.

“Fuckin hell.”

The next morning, you found Simon waiting for you with breakfast prepared, a silent acknowledgment of his attempt to bridge the gap between you. Awkwardly, you took your seat at the table, the tension between you thick as you both ate in silence. The weight of his invasion of your privacy hung heavily in the air.

But then, as if unable to bear the tension any longer, Simon spoke up, his voice carrying the weight of his own past.

"The reason I didn't pursue my dream as a kid was because I enlisted in the military… my captain sold me out and I was captured, tortured, and used... anything to break my will and force me into blind obedience to their commands."

"I escaped," he continued, "After being buried alive and digging my way out with the jaw of the rotting corpse I was buried with. I made it home, went to therapy, and fixed my family troubles."

As he spoke, you could feel the weight of his trauma, the scars etched into his very being. "My teammates were also captured, but they were brainwashed. When I returned home one night, I found my family dead, my former team being responsible for their deaths. I hunted them down with the help of the black market and killed them. Since then, I've remained in this line of work.."

You sat there in stunned silence, his words sinking in like heavy stones in a pond. Simon continued to eat as if what he had just revealed was just another fact of life.

In that moment, you realized he already knew so much about your past; perhaps it was time to lay it all bare. With a heavy heart, you met his gaze, finding a shared understanding in the depths of his eyes.

“I was seventeen when a few men broke into my house one night, dragged me and my parents into the living room, and made me watch as they tortured my dad and had their way with my mom before killing the both of them.”

Your focus shifted to the small droplets of water falling against the side of your cup, each one mirroring the weight of the memories you carried.

“I was sold around before I made my way to the organization you were looking at last night. There was a group of us, we were sold to different men for our services.” The room fell silent as you paused, your gaze dropping to your lap for a few moments.

Simon, ever perceptive, sensed your discomfort in revisiting those painful moments from your past. “You don't have to talk about it, love,” he said gently, his voice carrying an understanding tone. “I understand—”

“A lot of the girls were rebellious, so they would get taught lessons,” you cut him off, your voice carrying the weight of each painful memory.

“That's where I learned how to patch up the girls with very little supplies. The man in charge noticed, so he made me start patching up the men who worked for him.” You picked at the skin around your nails as you furrowed your brows. Simon’s gaze never left you, his eyes bouncing over your facial expressions.

“Their injuries weren’t just simple scratches and cuts. They would get stabbed, or shot, and when I failed to save one of them, he made me watch as he tortured one of the girls, killing her slowly as my punishment… It happened two more times after that. I wasn't a fucking surgeon, I didn't know what I was doing.” you recounted, your now fingers picking at the hem of the place mat, the memories still haunting you.

“My lack of skill resulted in the deaths of three girls. I spent five years there, playing doctor for him when he needed it and earning him money with my services. During one of my transports for a service, the car was attacked by one of their rivals, which allowed me to escape. Now I'm here.”

The weight of those years is heavy in your voice. The barriers between you seemed to dissolve, replaced by a shared understanding of the pain and suffering you both carried within you.

"I became skilled out of necessity; failure meant the death of innocent girls."

You took a deep breath before locking eyes with him. “I'm sorry about what happened to you and your family. You didn't deserve that."

You paused for a second before continuing, "I wish you never enlisted.” His brows furrowed as he studied your expression. “Why?”

“Because you’d be working at some restaurant, and I would have never met you or been dragged back into this business.” Simon exhaled deeply, leaning back in his chair.

“You're safe here. We're nowhere near Russia, and if someone tried to fulfill the contract, I’d be here to protect you.” You furrowed your brows, your voice tinged with confusion. “What contract?”

“There’s an eight hundred thousand dollar contract open to whoever can deliver you back to Finn.” Your expression twisted with disgust at the mention of his name, recalling the fear he instilled in you for years.

“When was the contract posted?” Simon shook his head. “Years ago.” You nodded slowly as you picked at your food with your fork.

“I'm sorry, for digging into your past and dragging you back into this, you didn’t deserve that. If you want to leave you can.”  You smiled and scoffed, “And pass up a free bodyguard, free five-star meals, and easy money? Yeah right.” Simon laughed and you smiled.

“Resourceful girl.”

“What can I say.” 

You finished off your breakfast with a comfortable silence and some light back and forth about a new contract Simon was thinking about accepting. Simon picked up both plates and rinsed them off before putting them in the dishwasher.

“A colleague of mine is coming in two weeks or so, he’s going to help me with a contract.” 

You hummed and nodded your head, “Where is he going to stay?”

Simon grabbed a bowl of fruit out of the fridge and started picking at it. “He’s staying here.” You furrowed your brows and leaned against the counter next to Simon, your arm grazing his slightly as you reached for a strawberry in the bowl.

He watched as you brought the plump strawberry to your lips, looking away before you glanced back up at him. “What’s he like?”

“Don’t worry, you're safe around him, he is Scottish though.” You lifted your brow as you looked up at him, “Is being Scottish bad?”

“Bastard will talk your ear off.” 

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[willowsnook]

Right Place, Right Time (last pt. LN)

pt. 1, pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4

@seasonswinter @drdbnkl2008 @jaematthews15

this is the longest one bc i needed to finish before i go on vacation :)

To say things were not going well was an understatement. On the outside it seemed like you were holding it together but on the inside you were barely staying afloat. You were going out less with your friends, keeping more to yourself at work, and drinking more. You'd watched both of the races since Austin, secretly happy to see that Lando was finishing outside of the top 5 both times. You had been staying off social media but one of your friends had let it slip that he had been fined a bunch for refusing to speak to media after both races.

You'd facetimed Lily a couple of times and she never brought him up but could tell that you were still sad about the situation. She still insisted you come to Vegas and you promised that you were still coming.

Lily was worried about both you and Lando. He was miserable, Oscar talked about it all the time. Moody in team meetings and refusing to hang out with anyone besides Max Fewtrell occasionally. She was a romantic, so she was hoping that you two would make up in Vegas and it would all magically work out in the end. There was one step already in motion that you were just about to tell her.

"So I have some news," you said over the phone, mindlessly picking at your nails. "And am hoping for some advice."

"Okay...what's up?" She said.

"So you know how I was telling you last week about being nervous for this meeting with my boss and her boss?"

"Yeah, what happened?"

"They offered me a new job." Lily squealed.

"That's so exciting, congratulations," she said. "I haven't necessarily accepted it yet," you said.

"Why not?" "The role would be managing the EMEA partner team, meaning I would have to move to the UK," you said and she was silent for a second.

"Oh," she finally said.

"Oh is right," you said sighing. "It's a great career opportunity but with where things stand with Lando I'm not sure if it's a good idea."

"I mean would you really be around him that much?"

"I guess not really but we'd still cross paths a lot."

"Hmm have you talked to him since October?"

"Nope."

"Maybe you guys should talk next week?," she suggested.

You actually had been planning on doing that, trying to make up and see if you could repair what happened but then your friends showed you some tabloid pictures, you changed your mind. You tried to not pay attention to any F1 gossip but you'd gone down a rabbit hole when it was reported that Lando was with a blonde girl while with Max F on a golf trip. Your suspicions were confirmed when you saw a pic him with her in his car. At first you cried for a good couple of hours and then you were livid. He's the one that was sooo into you.

"I don't think so," you said simply. "He's already moved on so it doesn't really matter."

"Well I think you should still take the job, don't let him take away something good."

--------- Vegas GP week, Friday -------------

You walked into the paddock with confidence radiating from you. You actually had passes for Red Bull's garage for the weekend thanks to Max but you thought it would be a bad look professionally to rep their merch so you had a cute Ferrari jacket in case you were cold.

"Ahh hermosa, did you wear that for me?" You laughed pulling Carlos into a hug. "Looks like you stole those jeans from Charles' closet though."

"I missed you buddy," you said and he smiled, throwing his arm around you as you walked through.

"I missed you too, not as bad as someone else though," he said and you stopped walking, crossing your arms over your chest.

"His new company seems to suit him just fine," you said and Carlos raised his eyebrows.

"Y/n I don-," you cut him off.

"I don't want to talk about him," you said and he nodded.

Speaking of the literal devil, your steps faltered as you saw him staring at you from across the path, ignoring the reporter trying to get his attention. He started to step towards you and Carlos but you watched Carlos shake his head and he stopped moving, looking deflated. You kept your eyes forward and let Carlos guide you towards Red Bull.

"Schatje!"

You smiled widely as Max picked you up twirling you around.

"I'm actually very upset with you," he said once he put you down and you looked at him quizzically.

"You're moving closer to me and you didn't say anything," he said and you nodded.

"You're moving?" Carlos asked raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, I got promoted to oversee all of our European partnerships so i'll be heading to the land of the British next month," you told him and he grinned.

"Congrats y/n, you deserve it." He said.

"Does Lando know?" Max asked.

"No, and I would prefer to keep it that way," you said firmly. Both boys nodded but gave each other a look. Carlos had to head back to Ferrari so you and Max headed into the garage. You watched his and Checo's practice session and then headed towards hospitality for lunch. Max walked you up there but then beckoned Daniel over to you.

"I have to go to a debrief but Daniel will keep you company," he told you and you rolled your eyes.

"I don't need a babysitter Max," you grumbled.

"We have a united front," he said before leaving you.

You didn't realize what he meant until later when it seemed like you had spent the day being passed from driver to driver keeping you away from anyone wearing Papaya. At one point you sat in silence with Fernando drinking coffee, both feeling awkward but it paid off. Lando had ended up in the same area and he saw his chance but Fernando abruptly stood up and Lando quickly turned on his heel.

At the end of the day you waited in the parking lot for Lily and squealed when you saw her and Oscar walking towards you. You gave her a big hug before moving to give Oscar one. When he pulled away he kept his arms on your shoulders shaking you.

"I am begging you y/n, please talk to him," he said. "I am going to kill him or myself by the end of this weekend if he doesn't stop."

"Just tell him to leave me alone," you said sourly and Oscar sighed. Lily slipped her arms through yours and you headed towards your car.

"I know you're with RB for the weekend but will you please keep me company tomorrow during qualifying?" Lily asked. You thought about it for a minute before agreeing.

The three of you piled into Oscar's car and drove you to the strip to find someplace for dinner. You got seated quickly at a nice restaurant thanks to Oscar's status and you had just opened the menu when someone slid into the 4th seat, across from you.

"Lando," Oscar said and you groaned.

"What?" He asked innocently. "I want to have dinner with my teammate, is that a crime?" You huffed and Lily gave you a sympathetic look.

"Nice jacket," he said causing you to finally meet your eyes. His expression was neutral and you kept yours the same.

"Thanks, it was a gift from Carlos," you replied.

"Lovely," he muttered looking down at his menu. "How have you been?"

"Fine."

"Good, good," he said awkwardly.

Oscar luckily jumped in at that point to take over the conversation. Lando kept trying to catch your eye but you refused to look at him and you could see him growing more frustrated. The waiter came back at the end asking how you guys wanted to split the check and Lando quickly motioned that the two of you were on one and Lily and Oscar on another. You huffed crossing your arms.

The four of you headed out of the restaurant, Lando close behind you.

"Ride with me back?" He asked hopefully.

"Absolutely not," you replied and he sighed.

"Are you going to keep avoiding me the rest of the weekend?" He asked.

"Hopefully for the rest of eternity," you said back.

"Baby please," he said and you whirled on him bringing your finger up to point.

"You don't get to call me that," you seethed and he gave you those sad puppy dog eyes. You caught up with Lily who didn't press about the situation, simply squeezing your hand in support.

----- Qualifying --------

You got to the McLaren garage early the next day to find Lily and unfortunately she was not the first person you saw.

"Come to wish me luck?" Lando said as you walked in, grabbing your attention.

"I quite literally am praying that you are out in Q1," you replied and he frowned. One of his engineers laughed, covering it up with a cough and he shot them a look. You found Lily sitting with a headset on and you joined her. The first round went by fast, both boys making it into Q2.

Q2 was going fine to start but you noticed that some of the engineers jumped in scrambling with anxiety. You furrowed your eyebrows and looked up just in time to watch Lando slam into the wall on turn 14. You gasped and grabbed Lily's hand instinctively, your other one going to cover your mouth. You heard his engineer repeatedly ask over the radio if he was okay and you let out a massive sigh of relief when he groaned out that he was.

You watched as he pulled himself out of the car, holding his side. He disappeared with the stewards and you fiddled with your hands nervously.

"I need to get some air," you told Lily pulling off the headset and heading back outside.

You lingered outside of the medical tent for a little bit before finally deciding to walk in. You saw Lando lying on a bed, clearly in pain waiting on a doctor to come over. You made your way over to him slowly and he reached his hand out to you when he noticed. You slipped your hand in his, bringing the other to run your hand through his hair. The doctor came in and wanted to check Lando's ribs so you helped him pull his suits off. Lando squeezed your hand hard, face grimacing as they felt around his ribs.

They ended up deciding that nothing was broken, just bruised and you walked back to the garage with Lando ,your hand still in his. His team surrounded him as you got back and you squeezed his hand as a goodbye before going to find Lily again.

------- Race Day ----------

Lando's POV

Lando was waiting around for the driver's parade talking to Oscar when Max and Carlos walked up.

"How are you feeling?" Carlos asked.

"Meh, it still hurts but it's survivable," he replied and the guys nodded.

"Heard you had a visitor in the medical tent," Oscar said and Lando blushed.

"I was very surprised to see her," he admitted and Oscar grinned.

"Guess you'll be seeing a lot of her soon too," Max said and both Oscar and Carlos snapped their heads towards him. "Oh fuck."

"What are you talking about?" Lando said confused. All three of them refused to look at him. "Guys?" Oscar sighed.

"She got promoted at Monster and is going to be based out of the UK starting next month," he said and Lando was shocked moving angrily towards him.

"Why didn't anyone fucking tell me that?" He demanded and Carlos stepped in.

"She asked us not to man," he said and Lando slumped back.

"I shouldn't be telling you this because Lily would kill me," Oscar started. "But she was planning on telling you and seeing if you guys could work things out but then the pictures of you and Magui came out and yeah."

"What do you mean pictures?" He asked. "We're just friends, nothing happened."

"Look all I know is that she was really upset and then decided that she didn't want to fix things anymore."

Lando was stunned. He had been with Magui once, and it was in a group. It's not like he could control that those were the pictures that were posted.

Y/n's POV

The race came and went, Oscar securing the win and you were in their hotel room getting ready for the celebration with Lily. Right now you could see her and Oscar whispering to each other, him looking over at you multiple times. Finally Lily came over fidgeting in front of you.

"Spit it out Lil," you said while applying lip gloss in the mirror.

"First I want to say that I didn't mention this earlier because you didn't want to talk about him and then it just never felt like it was going to change anything but after seeing you yesterday and how you reacted I think you should know," she said and you nodded for her to go on. "Nothing happened with that girl. She's one of Max's girlfriend's friends and they were hanging out in a group. I know the pictures looked bad but they weren't really anything."

You looked at her trying to figure out what to say and she continued.

"I know you still care about him. And I know he hurt you but you know how badly he feels about that. So I'm not saying you have to give him a chance romantically but don't let gossip that's not even true hold you back."

"it was much easier when I thought it was true," you smiled sadly at her and she pulled me into a hug.

"You'll figure it out."

You guys showed up at the club a little later, heading to the VIP section where pretty much the whole grid was. Being in Vegas overshadowed having a bad race for sure. Lando was talking with Max and when his eyes met yours you knew that he knew about the job. It all clicked why Lily felt like she had to tell you now. You looked away from Lando quickly following Lily to get a drink.

The next hour the tension between you and Lando grew considerably. The small touch on your back as he moved past you, him catching you staring multiple times, him hovering near you constantly...

Eventually you followed Carlos and Lily down to the dance floor and lost track of Lando. Oscar joined you a little later and you had the most fun that you had all weekend. You soon felt two hands on your waist and were pulled back into someone's chest to dance. You looked up to see Lando holding you, moving you to the music. Eventually you turned around in his arms, wrapping one arm around his neck. You were staring intensely at each other before he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"Can we talk?"

You nodded and let him pull you off the dance floor, heading back to your section. He found a quiet section in the corner and sat down in an armchair pulling you down to sit on his lap, his arms resting comfortably around your waist.

"This is how you want to talk," you teased and he smiled.

"Easier to hear you like this," he replied before settling into an awkward silence.

"I know-" "I know-" You both started and then stopped amused and he cleared his throat.

"Congratulations on your promotion," he said and you looked down rubbing circles on his arm with your thumb as you mumbled thanks.

"I'm not with that girl," Lando said and you looked back up at him. "She's just a friend."

"I wanted to tell you about the job," you blurted. "But I thought you had moved on because like you said 'you could get any girl you wanted'". He winced as you said this.

"I was upset, and I know it's not a good excuse but you were breaking my heart," he admitted. "Maybe I could get any girl I wanted but that wouldn't matter if I couldn't get you."

You felt butterflies in your stomach and you wrapped your arms around him, resting your head in his neck.

"I'm still going to be far away from you," you mumbled into him.

"A two-hour flight is nothing compared to fourteen," he said bringing a hand up to brush through your hair. "Plus it'd be easier during the season to come stay with you during the in betweens."

"I guess you're right," you agreed and he pulled your chin to look at him.

"I guess I am," he said before he leaned in connecting your lips. You deepened the kiss shifting to where you were straddling him, holding his face in both of your hands. You pulled back resting your head against his, both breathing hard.

"Please come back to my room with me," he begged and you laughed. "Funny business this time."

"You are so lame," you teased slipping off his lap.

"You love it," he said.

"I do," you reply bringing him in for one more short kiss.

The two of you moved out of the section and towards the door holding hands and you smiled as you caught Daniel looking from you to give Max a fist bump.

[lotties-ashwagandha]

RAPTURE

lottie matthews x reader, i cant remember word count but it's under 3k i think lmao sorry i promise you'll enjoy it however long it is. praise kink, jealous jealous jealous lottie <3

my fiiiirst ever nsfw fic omg omg

It was no secret for those who lived at the wellness center that you and Lottie were together. It was obvious in the way you were around each other almost constantly, how you substituted for each other when one of you got sick or simply needed a day of rest from teaching meditation classes and leading group therapy. It was obvious in the way you were always linked, her with a hand resting at your waist or you looping your arm around hers. Even for new arrivals it wasn’t hard to figure out, and most of them left you alone after seeing you together.

There were some, however, who couldn’t take a hint, or simply didn’t want to, like the man who stood in front of you.

Lottie was attempting to run him through the list of activities on his schedule as she did with all the new arrivals. She explained where he would be staying, what each class and activity consisted of, and where he could go to volunteer to help run the honey stand at the next farmer’s market.

It was obvious, however, that the last thing he was doing was listening. His eyes were glued to you as you looked over the information he had provided on his form and logged it all into the computer. You didn’t meet his gaze, but you could feel his eyes never leaving you, and to some degree it made you feel sick.

You noticed he left something blank on the form. You put your hand on Lottie’s shoulder and she paused her explanation of the beehives. “You left your phone number blank,” you said to the man.

“You guys took my phone, I didn’t think you needed my number,” he said, smirking. “Are you trying to get my number to call me when I leave this place?”

You scoffed, shaking your head.

“I wouldn’t mind if you did,” he continued, and you could feel Lottie fuming beside you. “We could go out for a drink sometime, as soon as you let me out of this purple jumpsuit. Unless you’re into that.”

You waited for Lottie to correct him as she did everyone. That it’s heliotrope, it’s not purple. But she never did. Her momentary silence had you turning to her, analyzing her features, and you could see that she was seething.

“You know what, I’ll leave the phone number part blank,” you muttered. “Hope I’ll never need it.”

Lottie slid the man’s schedule across the table to him. “If you find Lisa at the lake, she will explain the rest of your schedule,” she said, her voice level, almost calm. It only confirmed to you how furious she really was, and it made you oddly satisfied.

You almost wanted to laugh at all of it. It was so hard to irritate her, unless someone brought up her time in the wilderness. She could handle anything anyone brought to her, could maneuver every hardship at the wellness center with complete tranquility. But when it came to you, she was a completely different person. Someone could mindlessly brush your shoulder in passing and she would be on top of them, making sure they didn’t do or say anything that would suggest anything but innocence. She was watchful, protective in a sense, and as much as she would try to deny it, jealousy was her greatest fault.

The man receded, watching you as he backed away, and finally turned away to go find Lisa.

“You okay?” you asked, turning to Lottie with a smirk.

“Yes,” she said, a bit too enthusiastically. You could tell the man’s comments had bothered her, and it was only a matter of time before she either went after him or she–

“Can I talk to you in my office for a second?”

There it was. You knew her too well for this to be surprising, but you enjoyed it nonetheless.

You nodded and followed her to her office. Anticipation began to claw at you, you knew this game, she was more obvious than she thought she was.

Lottie shut the door of her office behind the two of you, and just as the lock clicked she was on top of you, shoving you up against the wall, her lips crashing into yours. Her hands snuck just under your shirt, finding your waist, and your skin caught fire at her touch. You could feel how tense she was, as if touching you was the only thing that grounded her.

She moved down to your neck, sucking what was sure to be bruises, nipping at your collarbones. You leaned your head back against the wall, giving her more access. The feeling of her lips on your neck sent shivers down your spine. You knew that anyone who saw you later, saw your neck, would know you were hers, and it only deepened the ache building between your legs.

“You’re mine,” she said, and you nodded, arching into her, wanting more. Lottie pulled her hands away from your waist, taking away all contact but still so close, lips hovering above yours, and you could hear your own heart beating wildly. “Say it.”

You met her gaze, saw the look in her eyes, like a storm, the sky tranquil and perfect until provoked. Fury like lightning but the thunder there always to soothe and subdue it, the land below tormented but beautiful, never neglected by the sky, for they are irrevocably connected.

“Say it,” she urged, and you smirked, leaning back against the wall. Her eyes made obvious her desperation, her desire, and part you wanted to toy with it, see how far she would go to get what she wanted. But you knew she needed it, needed to feel and make sure of the control she always had.

A storm, but you wanted it. You wanted her.

“Yours,” you breathed, leaning in to capture her lips with yours. Wanting more, needing more, for she was everything that mattered.

She moved back down to your neck, nipping at the skin. You wrapped your arms around her, grounding yourself, feeling the tension she was carrying melt away ever so slightly. In the heat of the storm, rain is despair, washed away from the clouds above and leaving them anew in bliss.

Without warning, Lottie slipped her knee between your thighs, and you gasped. The sudden pressure had your hips jerking, and your mind short-circuited, and everything was gone in the world except for her.

She made no effort to conceal her satisfaction at your reaction. A prideful smirk overcame her lips, and she watched you closely, seeming almost fascinated, playing the instrument of your body so perfectly as she had done a hundred times before yet still it was as if she was kissing you for the first time, seeing you for the first time.

“Tell me what you want, baby,” she whispered lowly, one of her hands coming up to rest at the base of your neck, and the slight pressure in her grip had your mind reeling, everything melting away, and all you could focus on was her hands, her words, her leg between yours.

“You,” you pleaded, fumbling with her shirt, and seeing your frustration she pulled it off, tossing it to the floor, and it was all you could do not to moan at the sight of her. “I want you.”

Satisfied, she kissed you again, and you melted into it — she paused only to pull your shirt over your head. She was intoxicating in every way, and you would’ve lived your whole life drunk on her and only her, for she was the sky and the sea and the stars — rapture, and you were witnessing the glory.

Lottie pulled you away from the wall, pushing you onto her desk, lips never leaving yours. She stood between your legs as she unclasped your bra and let it become part of the growing pile of clothes on the floor of her office. She kissed down your chest, hands running up and down your waist before being planted at your hips as she began to kiss your breasts. Leaving marks just because she could, because she was just as drunk on you as you were on her, and every sharp breath you took and every moan that escaped your lips sent her into euphoria.

Her lips around your nipple — rapture, heavy, setting fire to your skin. Your hands tangled in her hair, her eyes meeting yours, and under the lustful pressure of her gaze you could hardly breathe.

“You look so beautiful like this,” she murmured against your skin, and moved to kiss down your sternum. “My pretty girl.”

She pulled at the waistband of your pants, pulling them off of you. Her hands trailed down your thighs, caressing them, watching you as if in awe, wanting to memorize every inch and curve of your body.

“Fuck,” she murmured against your lips, hand slipping down your torso to feel the wetness between your thighs. “So wet for me, such a good girl.” At the sound of the moan that escaped your lips her breath hitched, and you could feel how she wanted this just as much as you did, wanted to hear the noises you made, wanted to elicit them.

She began to circle your clit. At the very same time you felt relief, finally receiving the touch you'd been craving, but after a moment you realized how much more you needed. “Lottie,” you whimpered, grabbing her wrist. “I need, I… please, just…”

You vaguely recognized the prideful smile pulling at her lips before she slipped a finger past your entrance, giving you a moment to adjust before adding another, working them languidly inside of you. You moaned into her mouth as she kissed you, overcome by the sensation of her fingers inside you, her tongue in your mouth, her other hand coming to rest at the base of your neck.

You knew anyone walking by Lottie’s office could hear you. You kept waiting for her to quiet you, to move her hand over your mouth or whisper in your ear that no one should hear, but she didn’t — and if anything it brought you closer to the edge, the prospect that at any moment everyone could know, know that you were hers, just as she wanted.

She scissored her fingers inside you. The heel of her hand pressed against your clit and you gasped, gripping her wrist tighter as she pumped her fingers inside you, sending you into ecstasy.

You clutched at the desk behind you, nails digging into the wood as you tightened around her fingers, burning pleasure shooting through you and making you shudder. It wasn't long before your release hit, and you came undone, your head falling to her shoulder as you rode out your high, white-hot fire burning through you as the coil in your abdomen finally released.

Lottie held you, running her hand up and down your back soothingly as you came down, whispering sweet nothings into your ear — and whispering that you were hers, only hers, and she alone could do this to you, have you over the edge so fast, and on her desk of all places. The sound of her voice grounded you, her words carving into your soul.

As you began to catch your breath you slumped into her, a moment of indulgence, letting her kiss your temple, rub your back. You let her touch bring you back to reality, and in the simple silence you found ecstasy of a different kind.

You raised your head, meeting her eyes for a moment before kissing her gently. The storm had passed, and these touches were of love.

Rapture.

“Yours,” you said against her lips, a small smile pulling at your own. You pulled away, taking her hands. You hadn’t noticed that she had taken her rings off, that they were on the desk beside you. Carefully you began to slip them back onto her fingers, knowing exactly which ring went on each finger, completely in sync with her in every way.

“Just so you know,” you said, grinning, “I would never be attracted to a man in a purple jumpsuit.”

“It’s heliotrope,” she said softly, though she, too, was smiling. “It’s not purple.”

You shook your head, sighing. “Even worse.”

Rapture, and together you witnessed the glory.

[a-heart-attack-ow]

The Arrangement. Part Eight

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight: Smut/unedited

The cameras flashed like lightning snaking across a dark sky. Blinding and magical all at the same time. I held the soup ladle with my left hand as I’d been instructed to, my massive black diamond ring on display to my audience. I smile widely, making sure to remember that the smile needs to reach my eyes to be believable. Before me was a line of homeless individuals waiting for me to serve them. I’d done work with the soup kitchens before, but this was the first time that I had photographers watching my every move. I try to focus on the people I’m serving, the camera flashing as daunting for them as it is for me. I recognize some of the faces of the people in line and I greet them accordingly, an action that makes the cameras flash in another quick frenzy. I serve the food and try to remain focused on the people I want to bring awareness to. I mentally remind myself that this is why I’m doing this. 

Well, one of the reasons why I’m doing this. Aside from keeping my in-laws happy and aiding their goal of making Colby Brock’s image better to the public. Aside from the fact that if I don’t do this my father could pay the price for my insubordination. 

Worse than he already had. 

I try to shake the thought from my head, my focus returning to my work. I try to remember all of the points that Sam had walked me through this morning. The angles I needed to stand at and the facial expressions I needed to maintain appearances. 

Appearances that couldn’t indicate the agony bubbling beneath the surface of my skin.

The true nature of the family I married into. The true nature of what my husband got up to on behalf of his family. My smile grows as I serve the last person in line, my eyes locking with the cameras. 

As if on command, I feel Colby’s hand on the small of my back as he joins me at my side, the sensation uncomfortable and alien after the past seven months since that night. Months that had made us strangers once more. Except when there was a camera pointed in our direction, then we had a show to put on. He kisses the side of my head, my eyes fluttering closed. My heart skips a beat when he does this, the spark still evident between the two of us. 

God I loved him. Despite everything I loved him. Despite the distance that had grown between us.

He feels it too. The spark. I can tell by the way that his fingertips lightly rub where his hand is resting on the small of my back. A small reassuring gesture. I open my eyes and look over at him, our gazes meeting. 

Suddenly, it feels like it’s just the two of us. The way that it should be.

I want to tell him I love him, but I don’t. Instead, I simply smile up at him and he smiles back. The rest of the event passes by in a blur and before I know it, he’s holding my hand and guiding me to the car. Making sure the cameras see that we’re holding hands. It’s not until we are in the car and he pulls away that we drop the act. His hands grip the wheel tightly as he drives, his eyes on the road ahead. 

I can feel he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He’s quiet. 

The way that he had been for the past seven months. Since that night.

Sure, we still fucked, but he seemed more reserved around me. More determined to only truly interact when he had to. He slept next to me every night and brought me along with him to his meetings with his associates, but I couldn’t place why he was so distant. I kept repeating that night in my head and I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong. He was just hot and cold and hard to read. 

Without realizing it, I’d been watching him for too long and he noticed. His jaw clenches and his eyes remain focused on the road ahead.

“There isn’t anyone watching us, you don’t have to pretend you care.” 

His words hurt and I can’t stop my eyes from watering. I couldn’t understand why he was so mad at me. I hadn’t done anything to warrant this response. I’d done what I was told the entire time we’d been together. This entire arranged marriage, I’d been good and now he was punishing me for something I wasn’t aware of.

I just couldn’t figure out what that something was. 

I hadn’t been unfaithful or strayed. All that had happened was my father got hurt by his parents and ever since then he was distant. The tears sting my eyes as I look down at my dress covered stomach. Down at the secret I’d been keeping from everyone for the last three weeks. 

I’m pregnant.

The removal of the I.U.D. had been a success and now I was carrying the heir to the Brock Family Estate. 

Just like I’d been told to.

The tears slip out silently as the weight of my situation hits me. I know that I needed to tell Colby, but I didn’t want to. Not when he’d been acting like this. I wasn’t even sure he’d be happy about the baby. 

Would he be upset that things were going to change? Would things get worse when they did? 

I tuck my hair behind my ear and remain silent as I break down in the passenger seat. I don’t know if he’s noticed, but I decide that I don’t care if he has. All I do is try to control my breathing as he pulls up to the gate outside of our house, buzzing security to let us inside. He parks the car in our driveway loop and I don’t wait for him to turn off the car before unbuckling and getting out of the vehicle. 

My feet move along the gravel of the driveway and up the thirteen marble stairs that lead up to our front door. I hear him turn off the car and get out. The sound of the car door slamming behind him the moment I reach the front door. I leave the door wide open for him, but I don’t make it too far into the house before I’m met by Sam’s sympathetic blue eyes. He sat on the steps of the grand staircase, waiting for an update on today’s events.  A look of confusion flashes over his face as he studies the tears escaping me. He glances behind me at Colby when the front door closes. 

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

He growls at Colby, standing up from the steps. The blonde brushes past me, his hands going for Colby’s black button up as he pulls his friend in close. I turn to face the two of them, my tear soaked face now evident to Colby. From the look on his face, he didn’t know I was crying, but now that he does an undetectable look flickers over his face. 

“Sam, please. He didn’t do anything to me. He just said something rude in the car. I’m sorry for getting upset.”

The words fall from my lips in a sad desperate tone. A tone that causes Sam to look over at me. His grip is still firm on Colby, who doesn’t move out of Sam’s grasp. 

“Don’t say sorry Emilia. This entire time that you’ve been here it’s always you apologizing for his behavior towards you. It’s fucked up and I’m tired of it…”

He pauses looking from me to his friend and adopted brother.

“... You’ve been treating her like shit since our parents hurt her father. As if it’s her fault or something, but if it's anyone’s fault it's yours. You’re supposed to protect her and you should’ve been the one to talk to mom and dad before anything happened to her dad in the first place. Instead, you ran away and did a delivery that any one of the guys could’ve done. You just didn’t want to step up.” 

Sam’s words hit hard to my husband and I can tell. It's in the way that he looks at Sam, the bitter look of disgust that overtakes his handsome face. My tears worsen at the words, my hand moving to my nonexistent baby bump. I can’t help but the feeling of heartbreak that I’m experiencing will kill me. Surely, I would shatter underneath all of this weight. 

“I’m pregnant.”

The words fall from my mouth in a gasp. Like a breath that had been held for too long. The desire to keep it a secret seemed to vanish under the tension I hadn’t been expected to feel today. The moment I speak, it’s like the air has been sucked out of the room. 

Two sets of eyes stare back at me in shock. Two mouths agape at the newest development. A sob escapes me as I look at Sam, my heart breaking at the look of kindness that he directs to me. Over the past seven months, Kris, Celina, and Sam had been my only friends at the house while my husband had chosen to ignore me. 

Until he wanted a fuck.

Even the other guys that worked with Colby had come by to visit. I’d become friends with Corey, Johnnie, Jake, and Nate. What would they all think when they found out? Would they look at me like Sam is right now? I hate to imagine how disabling that would be to experience. How their looks of sympathy might be the straw that breaks me completely. 

“When were you going to tell me?” Colby’s voice rasps in a mixture of frustration and disbelief. The tone of his voice is enough to make me want to snap and instantly I’m defensive. 

“I don’t know Colbs, considering you only truly talk to me now when there’s a camera stuck in our faces I wasn’t sure.”

His eyes narrow at my words. 

“What about last night when I was balls deep in you? Or this morning? You didn’t think to tell me then?”

There’s a smirk that finds the corner of his lips. The same smirk he wore whenever he talked about fucking me. A smirk that normally got me hot and bothered, but now made me want to slap him. This time I look at him with a clenched jaw, anger radiating through me. 

“Fuck you…”

The words come out in a broken sob. It had been years since I’d let myself get so angry that I cried.

“... All I’ve done is love you. Despite everything and every gut feeling that told me not to. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be the bright spot in this fucked up situation and for months you were. I thought maybe everything would be okay, but you took that from me the same night your parents chose to threaten me…”

Sam lets go of Colby and moves to my side, holding me against him as I break down, my knees wobbling. 

“... And the worst part is I’m still in love with you. Even though it’s clear you aren’t anymore. I don’t know what happened that night, but I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been mourning you and you didn’t even notice. I’ve been so alone even when you’re next to me and it's been agony.”

I stop speaking because I can’t say another word. I just crumble against Sam and his arms wrap around me as I sob against his chest.

 I hear him mutter something to Colby about ‘getting the fuck out of here’. 

But I can’t bring myself to care. 

I’m so tired of caring.

—

I fell asleep on the couch after spending hours crying into Sam’s lap, his fingers playing with my hair to soothe me. I don’t know how long I’d been out before I felt someone lift me from the couch, their arms strong as they held me tightly against them. The smell of his cologne is all that gives me the hint that it's Colby’s arms I’m in. Despite our arguing earlier, he gives my head a soft tender kiss. His grip on me tighter when he starts to take me up the stairs. It’s this softness that had made me fall in love with him in the first place, a softness that I’d been missing recently. 

“I got you darling.”

He whispers once he reaches the top of the stairs. I’m still out of it enough to be sleeping, but awake enough to know that he’s bringing me to our bedroom. Once we are inside, he lays me down on the bed and makes sure to pull the comforter up over me. I feel him brush the hair out of my face as he sighs. 

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I have to say this now or I won’t say it at all. The dinner with my parents was harder than I let on. Yeah I cried like a little bitch and you saw that, but it's the way my parents view me that really got under my skin. I have a history of messing up or not being enough of what my parents wanted me to be. I never worked hard enough, I never kept secrets well enough, and then I messed up with you. The thing that happened with your father should’ve been avoided, I should’ve done the talking that night we had dinner with my parents. They saw that you’d become someone I cared for, that I didn’t have you under control and in line with what they wanted you to be with me. So they hurt you to punish me. I am so sorry about that...” 

He pauses to take another deep breath.

“... That’s why I’ve been so distant. If they knew that I was keeping you in line and not letting my feelings for you cloud my judgment they wouldn’t hurt you again. But in doing that, I’ve hurt you and I honestly didn’t mean to do that. I am still in love with you Emilia. I’m so proud of you and your ability to keep your head up in all of this. I promise to be better about communicating and I promise to be a better husband. I promise to be the best dad I can be. I want a future with you, not just an image in front of a camera. I hope that you’ll let me do that. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

He finishes speaking without realizing I’ve opened my eyes. He’d been looking forward the entire time that he didn’t notice until he felt my gaze. A small smile finds his lips when our eyes meet.

A smile I don’t return. Instead I look at him blankly, my body still tired from the hysterics brought on by today. I’ve never cried as hard as I cried today. My heart hadn’t ever shattered as badly as it had today. A simple sorry wasn’t going to do it and I needed to stick to that. Even though the sight of him in only his black sweats causes my mind to wander for a second, desire laced deep within me despite it all. 

“This cycle needs to stop. The hot and cold bullshit has to stop. We are having a baby and I’m not going to allow this type of atmosphere for them. You’re either all in now or I’m not doing this anymore. I’ll have our child, but I’ll stay in my own room and keep up appearances for the sake of my father’s life. But if you don’t want us then I’m done.”

He listens to what I have to say, truly listens to every word and contemplates. Not even when I sit up in our bed and look at him does he speak. He really mulls it over and I do appreciate that. We’d both spoken more words to each other in the last few minutes than we had in months. 

I missed hearing him speak.

I shake the thought out of my head as he reaches for me, his hands pulling me onto his lap. I try not to meet his gaze as he does this, but it’s no use. He places a hand under my chin and focuses his attention on me. 

“I want us.” 

He speaks so softly that I almost can’t hear him. Like he’s afraid that he’s going to upset me again if he speaks any louder. I place my hands on his bare chest and breathe out a deep sigh as I trace the tattoo above his heart. He’d explained what it was to me once, a symbol that meant ‘protect your heart’ , something I thought was cute, but now I look at it and I wish that I’d done the same. My heart had been through the ringer for the last year.

Year.

The thought enters my head as I recall the date. One year ago today we’d been married. An anniversary that snuck up on us both with cruel irony.

“We’ve been married an entire year Mr. Brock.”

I state lifelessly as I swallow hard. He nods as if he already knew it, something that makes today worse. He had to choose today of all days to be an ass. 

“Has it all been bad, my darling wife?”

He asks. Eyes trained on me. 

“No, some of it has been good. But my husbands a real dick sometimes.”

I respond quickly, unable to stop myself from smiling when he feigns offense. He places his hands on either side of my waist and I can feel what direction we’re heading in. He bites down on his bottom lip and focuses on how my breathing hitches. Slight annoyance with my own body’s inability to chill the fuck out overtakes me briefly, before he places his lips to mine in caution. 

I don’t bother trying to fight how good he feels as he kisses me. Nor do I bother with the fact that he’s lifting up my dress, his hands finding my thighs. Instead, I lean into it, my hands on top of his as I help him unwrap me. He groans at the action, satisfied that I want him as badly as he wants me. But wanting Colby has never been an issue for me, which is how I’d ended up in this mess in the first place. I can feel him getting hard beneath me, harder as I grind myself against him. An action that practically causes him to growl in sexual frustration. He moves me off of his lap and into our bed, his body straddling mine. He keeps his attention on me as he slides my underwear down my legs and lifts my dress up. 

“I’m sorry I made you cry.”

He rasps, placing light kisses on the inside of my thighs. I lay there with my eyes fluttering closed as the sensation of him kissing further and further up my thigh fills me with anticipation. Anticipation that feels worth it the moment I feel his mouth against my aching core, his tongue dipping inside of my slick sex. The feeling of his mouth was always incredible, but today it felt even better. Today I could feel the extra care he was spending on me as if his tongue was trying to atone for his actions earlier. My back arches into the bed beneath me as his tongue works on me, soft whimpers escaping me with each flick of his mouth. He works on me for several minutes of indescribable pleasure, my head spinning the entire time. I hear him chuckle darkly to himself as he can feel me getting closer to the edge. 

“Come on baby, cum all over daddy’s tongue.”

He speaks in a lower register as he whispers the words against my needy sex. The invitation is all that I need to release, his tongue lapping up my orgasm with feverish need. A moan escapes my lips as I come down from my high. My hands grip the comforter I’m laying on top of as my chest heaves up and down. 

“Fuck, Colbs.”

I whimper as his mouth moves from me, his body suddenly straddling mine. In the darkness his pale blue eyes find me, his face serious as he studies me closely. I can tell he wants to say something, but that he’s unsure of what exactly to say. He knew words wouldn’t change my frustration. He needed his actions to reflect a change, but he wasn’t sure where to start. 

I didn’t know either.

But at this moment I make the executive decision to deal with all of that later. Instead I move my left hand to the back of his head, guiding his lips to mine. His breathing gets heavy, when I deepen the kiss and my fingers lace in his hair. Moments like this made me thankful for the electricity burning between the both of us. It was undeniable and magnetic. 

It had always been. Regardless of whatever else was happening at the time. 

A groan escapes him as my hips lift slightly, enough to cause friction between the two of us. I may have just came, but I was more than ready to feel him inside of me. 

It didn’t matter how many times we’d done this. Everytime felt like the first. 

The air around us is heated, our bodies needy for each other. I slowly move my hands from his hair, my fingertips ghosting along his toned body and down his chest. I reach his sweatpants, the pads of my fingers lightly toying with the fabric. I drag them down an action that causes him to chuckle. 

“You seem to know exactly what you want Mrs. Brock.”

He lets me drag the sweats down and to expose himself to me. A sight that I knew I wouldn’t ever get tired of seeing. For a moment he stares down at me in wonder, at the mess he’s made of me. The heap of uneven breaths and a look of desire in my eyes. I smile up at him, a smile he returns. 

“I’ll always want you, Colbs.”

My voice sounds more sentimental than I intended it to, but I meant every word. He knows I mean it as he looks down at me, his face sweet as he presses his lips back to mine. This kiss is slower, more cautious as if he’s trying to savor the moment. As we kiss, he aligns himself with me, the tip of his cock sliding in slowly. Another groan from him sounds against my lips as he allows himself to savor how tight I am around him. He breaks the kiss as he slowly starts to thrust inside of me, our eyes meeting once more. He’s so gentle as he fucks me, a slow satisfaction that I didn’t want to stop. 

We remain entwined in each other, his head leaning down to rest in the crook of my neck. Light kisses a trail along my collarbone as he continues moving in and out of me, my body moving with his in perfect rhythm. He marks me carefully, aware of where he’s leaving the marks. The gentle sucking of his lips sent shivers up my spine. He thrusts deeper and deeper inside of me and with each movement I feel the nerves of my stomach building up. I can feel him getting closer to the edge as he thrusts. 

“I’m going to cum Emilia, but I want you to cum with me too.”

He rasps against my skin, breath heated. I moan in response, unable to form a coherent word. As he thrusts once more, I feel myself spill over the edge at the same time he does. Filling me with his cum. 

We lay in heated silence as we try to catch our breaths, our bodies slowly coming down from their high. We remain entangled together as I feel his cock twitch inside of me one more time before he pulls out of me to lay at my side in our bed. His blue eyes remain on me as he studies me closely. 

“I really am sorry.”

Softly he speaks, his hand reaching out to tuck some of my hair behind my ear. I can hear how sorry he is, but again I need to see a change before I’ll fully believe him. 

“How do you feel about me being pregnant?”

I ask instead of responding to his ‘sorry’. I knew that we had to get pregnant because that’s what his parents wanted, but now that it was happening I didn’t know how he actually felt about it. We’d only briefly spoken about it prior to this moment. He sees the insecurity in my eyes and the uncertainty of this new chapter of our lives. 

“I’m excited. There’s no one else I would want to have children with, but…”

He hesitates, his brows furrowing as he chooses his words carefully. 

“...I’ve got to figure something out about my parents. I don’t want my parents to get their grubby hands on our child. They’re not going to do what they did to me to them. I have to figure out a way of standing up for us and what we need without them retaliating in some way.”

His fingertips run through my hair, his face full of thought. I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t worried about the same thing. If I hadn’t worried that somehow they’d retaliate if we did one thing they didn’t approve of with our child. 

How else would they hurt my father?

The thought dances in my head, spinning out of control for a second before Colby’s hand moves to my face, his thumb lightly tracing over my cheekbone. The worry must’ve been evident on my face. 

“I’ll take care of my parents. In the meantime, you are literally growing a human inside of you so I want you to just focus on that. I’ll do the heavy stuff with my family.”

He draws me in against him, my head resting against his chest as he kisses my forehead. After what had happened with my father I wasn’t sure if I could fully relax. 

I trusted that Colby wanted to do the right thing, but could we out smart his family when they always seemed to be two steps ahead?

I wasn’t sure if we would be able to.

But God, did I hope I was wrong. 

[unluckyhoneybee]

All the pretty girls (Pyotr Kochetkov)

Where Pyotr never cared when girls preferred Andrei until it was you.

Note: I thought it would be easier to do and understand if I did it like this, so this means they are speaking Russian.

Our Samuel here is Andrei. Andrei is handsome, charming, talented,... In this fic, from Pyotr's view, all the girls like Andrei. He doesn't care. Andrei is his best friend and he is happy for him. Until it comes to you, a mutual friend. Inspired in All the pretty girls by Kaleo.

Pyotr was sitting in the stool, in a VIPvfar from the dance floor. He had been sitting in that exact point for two hours. He wasn't tired nor drunk. He had stopped drinking a while ago. He didn't feel like it.

His bad mood had started a few days ago. At first he played it cool, he simply tried to think he was overreacting and he shouldn't be that angry. But tthen things got more serious and he became truly bothered.

When Pyotr arrived to the states, his English was more than worse. He wouldn't even say he had an English. Andrei had been his saviour in multiple times, so many that there weren't more fingers to count with. They bonded pretty quickly and soon they were great friends. Pyotr was so attached to his friend, they were flesh and bone. When they started going out with the rest of the team, Pyotr could barely communicate with anyone. So he was stuck next to Andrei and used his friend as a translator. The thing was, girls usually approached them. Both men were attractive and they both caught their eye. Some come to talk to Pyotr, but many (almost all of them) ended up going with Andrei. Pyotr didn't care. He didn't know them, it was just sex. He wouldn't ruin the best friendship he had in the states for a hook up, he was better than that. But then he met you.

You were friends with many of the guys. You were usually with them when they went out. Pyotr met you in a party, at someone's birthday. You were so nice and had a huge smile when Andrei introduced you. The goalie just all heart eyes since then. You were so kind and had so much patience with him. It was so surprising because the language barrier had been a huge issue for him when meeting people. No one wanted to try. But you did, you quickly assured Andrei that he could leave you with Pyotr, that you would manage well. Pyotr had never gotten a crush so fast.

Then he told Andrei and everything went wrong. The man who he believed to be his best friend, started to flirt and got closer than ever with the woman he had confessed to have feelings for. And Pyotr had never felt so broken and alone. He got some time away when he was sent to Chicago, he tried to get over you, to think of something else. But nothing worked because there were you, being as nice as always. There wasn't a day that passed without your text and to be honest, he needed them a lot. But when he came back and Andrei and you were even more closer, he brought you everytime he was with him and was always talking around you. All the pretty girls liked Andrei and he hadn't drawn the line with you, the one he knew his friend was in love with. He had to ask you to dance, to make you laugh, to flirt with you, all of it when Pyotr was right in front of him. It made him feel insecure in ways he had never felt.

But it couldn't be further from reality.

An older and way too drunk man had been watching you while you and Andrei danced. So when you had gone to the bar for a refill, Andrei had shielded you with his body. Pyotr didn't want to look, but he had seen Andre's arm around your waist and such a rage had filled him.

"I don't think he is okay, Andrei" You said to his ear.

Andrei sighed and caressed your back in a reassuring way.

"There is something off today" He agreed.

"Maybe I should go with him" You said and while pinching your lip. "Is everything right at home? Or with the team?"

"Yes, I mean, nothing happened." Andrei said trying to remember. "He tells me everything" But Pyotr had been dry and more distant recently.

"I'll go with him" You walked under Andrei's arm, who called your name and quickly followed you.

"All good, man?" Martin asked.

Pyotr looked at him and nodded. "Good"

"Are you sure? You look sad"

"No, good"

Martin patted him in the shoulder and walked away. When Pyotr turned his eyes back to the dance floor, you weren't there anymore.

"Hey, Pyotr" You appeared on his other side, taking him by surprise. You hand was on his shoulder and you had left a drink in front of his empty glass.

He was out of words, he couldn't speak, just look at you with big puppy eyes.

Andrei was there too, right behind you. It only made Pyotr's blood boil.

You sat and grabbed his hand and electricity ran through his skin.

"Is everything okay? Are you good?" As always, you spoke slow, loud and clear so he could understand.

Pyotr nodded and looked down.

"I brought you a drink, Andrei paid, but it's on me" You tried to joke.

You hated to see him so down. He was your fun and cheerful guy, he was the one who could always put a smile in your lips. He was the one you wanted to always be happy. But today, unlike other days, he had rejected your invitation to dance (or pull those silly moves of his that always made you laugh). He had been in that stool alone and you couldn't think about anything else. Luckily, Andrei had tried to distract you a bit.

Pyotr's eyes moved to Andrei.

"I thought you were different" He spat.

It took Andrei by surprise. He frowned and open his lips to speak, but he was too confused to say anything. When you saw his reaction, you knew that the goalie wasn't looking for a translation.

"Different? What do you mean?" Andrei tried to get closer, but Pyotr got up harshly. Some guys standing close turned to look, some of them got ready to jump if needed. The sudden tension could be cut with a knife and Pyotr was know for be quick when jumping into a fight.

"Different. My friend. A friend doesn't do this" Pyotr told him.

You were standing between them, your hand had fallen to your side and you couldn't be more puzzled. You didn't understand a single world, but you could see how angry Pyotr was.

"Man, I haven't done a thing"

"That's not what I see"

"Maybe you should look better"

"Maybe you should stop flirting with someone that is not yours"

"Who the fuck am I flirting with?"

"YN. I tell you and the first you do is go for her! You can have all the girls you want, but no! You go for-"

"Okay, I don't know what is going on between you two but it's over for now." you said pressing a hand to Pyotr's chest. You couldn't see them fight like this. "I don't know what is wrong with you but you are coming with me"

Pyotr looked down confused. He couldn't ask Andrei for a translation now, could he?

"You, me, out now" You said and grabbed his hand. "And you... I'll tell you once I've cleared everything"

You left hand in hand with Pyotr, pulling him out of the club and leaving Andrei with the others, who were curious about what had happened.

Outside, your ears rang for seconds because of the loud music. Pyotr moved his hand until it slipped form yours and started to walk. He needed a breath, he needed a minute alone.

"Hey, no" You said. Your heart was racing. This wasn't supposed to happen. You had gone out to have fun, to enjoy with your friends and maybe get to spend more time with the guy you liked. And now that guy was walking away from you after fighting his best friend. You saw him kick a pebble in the pavement and then he lifted his hand. "Stop!"

Pyotr froze.

"You will break your hand, stupid" You ran to him and stood between him an the traffic sign he was going to hit. He looked down at you and his hand fell. He felt so weak, he just wanted to go home and sleep until everything was forgotten. "What's wrong?" You gently grabbed his hand.

"Nothing"

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. "Pyotr"

He shook his head and tried to walk again, but you didn't let go of his hand so he just had to accept you were following to his car.

"I want home" He told you.

"I'm going with you"

"Alone"

"No way"

You were already on the passanger seat, so he could only nod and start driving home.

"What did-" You started.

You didn't need to finish. Pyotr couldn't keep everything on his chest any longer.

"Me speak now."

"O-okay"

"Andrei knows" He started. His breath was quick and he couldn't find the correct words. "And he- you- I tell him-"

"Shh. Slow, okay?"

It was so frustrating, he had never feel more trapped in his whole life. There were so many things to tell you but he didn't know how. His heart end up breaking completely.

"You better with Andrei. It better. I'm fine. You speak with him. No with me. You better with Andrei" He managed to say. His knuckles were white on the wheel and his lip was trembling.

You blinked slowly. "Better? How? When?" What did he mean?

"Girlfriend" He choked out.

You gasped and covered your mouth. It was all clicking in your mind. Oh no...

"I'm an idiot. I'm the worse, shit" You told to yourself.

He shot a quick glance and saw you brushing your eyes hard.

"Do you think Andrei and I are together? A couple?"

He shrugged. Maybe not yet, but probably soon.

"He- and you-" Pyotr took a deep breath. "Good couple"

How bad luck was if the guy you were in love with thought that you were dating someone else?

He stopped the car and you looked around. His flat.

"Should we go... Can I?" You pointed to the building and he nodded.

When he opened the door, you sat in the sofa and crossed your legs. You should tell him, he was so upset about it. You fully believed Andrei now.

"Pyotr?"

"mhn"

"Sit with me"

He had taken his shoes and hoodie off and was wearing now only the jeans and t-shirt.

When he sat, you opened your hand and he grabbed it, interlocking your fingers and sighing at the comfort they offered

"Listen carefully, yeah?"

He nodded.

"Andrei and I are not together" You had never felt more nervous in your life. "We haven't been and we won't be"

Pyotr blinked slowly. "No?"

"No. You understand, right?"

He nodded. You weren't daring and he was a prick.

"Andrei and you, not together"

"That's right. I don't like Andrei"

Pyotr frowned.

"Andrei like you"

You shook your head. Now that he was calmer, his puppy eyes and pout were actually cute.

"Andrei doesn't like me" You said. "Andrei is my friend. Just my friend"

His chest was moving slowly with deep breaths. He had fucked up big this time.

"I think Andrei like you when I-"

You moved a bit closer and he looked at you.

"I told Andrei I like you and he- now you and him together all time. You better with him. His English better"

You laughed loudly. "Oh shit"

"What?"

"I like you, Pyotr. Not Andrei. You." You said cupping his cheeks. "You. I'm in love with you"

Again, he was loss of words.

"Andrei and I have been together a lot recently because he was helping me"

He frowned.

"I wanted you to like me. And Andrei made me tag along to all the plans you made"

Pyotr was stunned. He was probably understanding wrong. Every word you said? No way he was right.

"Andrei and I got close because I like you, not because I like him"

Pyotr blinked slowly. "Me"

"Yes, you"

"Not Svech"

"Mhm" You affirmed.

Pyotr took a deep breath. "I fight Svech"

"Yeah, you will have to apologize for that"

"I'm stupid"

"A bit."

"You like me"

"I like you"

"Thanks"

You giggle.

"Thanks"

He nodded and laughed. "Nervous"

"Oh sweetheart, come here"

When you pulled him close, Pyotr felt light. The anger and fear was gone. His best friend wasn't awful and the woman he loved loved him back.

"Me- I thought you like Andrei more because all girls like Andrei more and my English is not good and you can speak to Andrei more-"

With a smile, you kissed his lips. It took him by surprise, yes, but he leaned in and kissed you back. It was a sign for you to climb on his lap. Pyotr groaned a bit and let his hands wander from your back to your waist, hips, back,... He wanted to feel you. He needed to feel you. And you were more than happy with it. Your kisses turned deeper and deeper and soon your hands were tangled on his hair and his under your clothes.

"I always liked you" You said pulling back. "A lot"

"Me too"

You smiled so sweetly and he pecked your lips.

"Pretty?"

"Me?"

"Yes, really pretty"

You kissed his cheek and Pyotr hugged you. Both of his arms wrapped around you so tightly. Then, he laughed and shook you a bit.

"Happy"

"Are you happy?"

You said while setting on his chest.

"the most happy"

"Happiest"

"What?"

You looked at him and brush his hair behind his ear. "You say happiest."

"Okay, I'm the happiest... Because... I am with you?"

"Yes" You nodded.

"And... Wait. One more. Sorry if not right"

"You know that is fine, Pyotr" You kissed him again.

He looked at you not believing completely that you were sitting on his lap and kissing him.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

"Ah!" You shouted and lifted your arms. "That was perfect!"

He threw his head back laughing.

"Want? Yes or no?"

"Of course I want, silly" You said kissing all over his face. "But you better call Andrei and say you are sorry"

He nodded and pulled his phone.

"Then you and me fuck?"

"Oh shit, Pyotr. Of course you know how to say that" You slapped his chest and got up. "Call Andrei" You told him with a smile.

Pyotr watched you walking to the kitchen and sighed. He was so lucky.

"YN" He called. You loved how your name sounded in that accent of his.

"Mhm"

"Love you"

All the pretty girls, Pt2.